White Trash

The best sissy transformation story I ever read :

White Trash
By The Scallywags

I’ve been a cross-dresser since about age thirteen. It’s not something I’m
proud of. I’d like to stop, but it’s like a d**g and its sleazy allure soon
drags me back from my latest attempt at abstinence. This time, with
horrific consequences.

Me? Well I’m a white male, a lot shorter than I’d ideally like at 5′ 6”
and weighing in at about 145 pounds. I’ve never been one for sports and
have always steered well clear of v******e of any sort. With my height and
build I know I’d soon get the shit kicked out of me!

I’m a freelance web site designer, nothing too big, just designing and
supporting web sites for local businesses, which I publish on my web
server. It does have the benefit that I get to work from home. I live alone
in a medium sized two-bedroom house, with an office in the den, in a middle
class neighborhood. My neighbors are typically older retired people, mostly
now widowed but still living in the same houses they had shared for thirty
years or more. My house has a secluded patio and a nice size pool at the
very back in what I `thought’ to be a private location, behind the
garage. I say `thought’ because recent events have proven me wrong.

About two months back, I was enjoying a long weekend of kicking back, and
indulging my fantasy about being dressed as a woman. In these fantasies, I
am forced, by some unseen Master or Mistress, to dress up in panties,
stockings, a brassiere (stuffed with two water filled condoms) skirt,
blouse, heels and jewelry, but no makeup. And then I am `instructed’ to go
about my house performing ordinary chores that inevitably involve lots of
bending over and stretching which causes my scanty clothing to reveal more
than its designer’s intended. That’s it really. Nothing too wild or
crazy. I’ve tried indulging in a little anal experimentation with butt
plugs and others, but found it painful and so rarely bother now. To make
the fantasy more exciting I’ll usually try to involve a mild risk of
exposure to people outside this secret life of mine. Again, nothing too
daring, I’ll put mail outside my front door very late at night, or run
about the kitchen scantily clad in broad daylight, always safely behind
closed windows and screens mind. I enjoy sitting out on my patio in the
evenings-dying light while smoking a joint and drinking, in a very delicate
and lady like manner, a glass of red wine. The weekend all this changed
was a scorcher, the thermometer on my shady, partially covered, patio was
reading over 100 degrees Fahrenheit, and the air-conditioned was having
serious trouble from stopping the inside temperature from matching it.
Even dressed only in a skimpy sundress and panties, I was
sweltering. Inevitably, my thoughts turned to my pool. I had a dazzling
little turquoise and yellow thong bikini I had been dying to be brave
enough to use for weeks. I decided today was the day!

As I walked out to the pool, I was careful to walk quietly in my four-inch
heeled white slip-on sandals, and to keep the hem of the oversized T-shirt
I was wearing pulled down over my scantily clad buns. Keeping close to the
cover provided by the side of the house I wiggled my way out to the pool.

Within minutes I was floating, lost deep in thought, on my back letting the
cool water caress me. A sound from behind the thin bamboo fence, separating
me from the family living in the house behind mine, suddenly broke my
daydream and sent me scurrying to seek shelter up against the side of the
pool nearest the fence. My reasoning was that I would be hidden from any
prying eyes hidden behind the sunlit fence.

This was bad. The family that live behind me are the typical `bad apples’
you get trying to spoil every idyllic neighborhood. They were the ones with
the two snarling and constantly barking dogs, the ones who set off their
own fireworks every July fourth, regardless of the realistic danger of
their unkempt tinderbox garden going up in flames, and taking mine with
it. These were the neighbors who held fierce shouting matches at full
volume at any time of the day, the ones who played loud acid house music
late in to the night while laughing, hollering and carrying on with no
regard for anyone around them. In other words, they were the local white
trash, and I had them as neighbors with the very real risk of one of them
playing peek-a-boo with me while dressed in a fashion I had no wish to be
ever seen in.

I held myself breathlessly at the edge of the pool, after a few seconds
that seemed to last forever, I heard the sounds of someone moving away from
the fence. Had they been watching me? They gave no indication of having
seen me as I heard their kitchen door screen slam shut. All was quiet. I
was alone again. Should I get out and scurry back to the cover and security
of my house? Or should I go with my feelings that it was nothing and
continue with my original plan and do a spot of sunbathing? I decided to
hang out in the pool a few minutes longer, listening for any evidence there
was still anybody out there. I waited, ears straining, what I thought to
be a suitable period for caution and then climbed out and jumped quickly in
to my hammock, my water filled breasts swinging wildly within the miniscule
support of my bikini top. I decided I wanted that ultimate of female
attributes, tan lines from a sexy bikini. Nothing too obvious, just the
exciting thong bikini border of paler skin against the faintest hint of the
gold of a tan.

I relaxed in the sun, the adrenaline high of my recent brush with danger
and the effects of a hectic workweek draining off as I slipped in to a warm
and comfortable sleep.

Part 2. Caught:

My deep and sexy dream filled sleep was shattered by the realization that a
shadow had moved suddenly over my face, I was no longer awake. With a
start, I sat up, sending my latex breasts in to rapid movement within my
bikini. My eyes opened with terror to the malevolent grins of the two sons
of my neighbors. I was caught.

“Well lookey what we have here Jim!” smirked the older brother Sam. “Looks
like we got us a died in the wool faggot. All dressed up in it’s sexiest
bikini.”

Jim just smiled maniacally, displaying an overfull mouth of discolored
teeth. Some type of `snarf’ sound escaped his throat as his brother
continued. “Yes Jim, we have captured ourselves our own personal faggot,
fairy slave!”

His use of the word `slave’ broke my terror filled trance. I realized this
could quickly get out of hand, “Now hang on a minute…”

“Shut the fuck up faggot! You just keep your cock sucking mouth clamped
tightly shut if you know what’s good for you” shouted Sam.

The sheer v******e of his face and body language as he screamed at me, his
face coming close enough that some spittle from his angry words splashed
out on to my upturned face beneath him, convinced me to shut up and back
down away from him.

Seeing me so obviously back down calmed Sam as he realized I had conceded a
lot of ground, or face, to him already. “That’s it, there’s a good little
sissy, keep it clamped tightly shut as your new Master…”

I again bridled at his choice of words, but my only protest was to try and
sit up, and he quickly stopped this, and any verbal complaint I had
planned, by reaching behind my head and grabbing a large handful of my long
brown hair. He pulled my head up until it was back within spitting range of
his furious, anger twisted, mouth.

“Now listen here you little sissy faggot cunt, and listen fucking good
while I tell you how it’s going to be around here. From now on, your
perverted little faggot ass is mine. Mine to do with as I please. Do you
understand cunt? Am I making myself clear?

I could only nod my spittle-covered face in abject terror. Sam was a good
eight inches and nearly two hundred pound bigger than I, there was no way I
could beat him physically. I realized my only option was to do as he said,
no matter how… no matter how sick, depraved, disgusting or humiliating it
was. Until such time as I could extricate myself from this mess without any
danger of real and serious bodily harm I was very unfortunately his to do
with as he planned. Short of possibly dying, I had no alternative. I was
fucked.

“Good, now listen carefully while we tell you your new roll and a few new
rules you’re going to start living by. First, you are now my property. This
means you do exactly what I tell you, when I tell you, and with your
sexiest smile on.

Secondly, the same is true for my dear younger brother here. Whatever he
tells you, you do.

Thirdly, we have full control and access over you and everything you
own. Your house, your clothes, your car, everything. Is that clear? Are you
keeping up you sissy faggot? Go on tell me that the sissy faggot
understands and agrees to comply with everything I’ve said so far”

Tears were welling up in the corner of my eyes as the bleak future promised
by his, no by my new orders, was so clearly painted. I resolved not to let
them see me cry, it would serve me on purpose, and would only serve to
emphasis their hold and superiority over me at this time. I followed the
only course open to me. “Yes… yes, I agree.”

“Not good enough cunt. I told you to tell me the sissy faggot understands
and complies with everything Master Sam has said. . In fact beg me! Go on,
beg me to let the sissy faggot do everything Master Sam and Master Jim
want, beg me to use and abuse you and all your stuff. Go on cunt, beg me”

God, was he going to make everything such a degrading ordeal? I had no
choice; I was completely outmaneuvered both physically and mentally. My
only choice was to go ahead and submit to his twisted demands, or face at
the very least a really bad beating, possibly even long lasting physical
harm.

I folded, even as I realized I was giving way to this bullying youth the
last vestiges of my masculinity. I looked up at his overbearing physical
presence and begged him. “Please Master Sam,” I said, trying to down play
my natural English accent, “please Master Jim, let this little Sissy Faggot
be your slave. Please use little Sissy Faggot’s property, car, clothes as
you see fit.”

An evil grin was evident on both their faces as Sam did not let up “That’s’
good cunt, keep on begging us, but do it in a girly voice, you know with a
lisp and a high sexy voice. Let us hear your little English school girl
voice.”

Blushing deeply now with shame, I complied and forced my voice to my best
impression of a little girl as I continued, “please Massster Ssssam and
Massster Jim, let me be you ssspecial ssslave ssisssy?”

They both fell about laughing as I continued begging for the very last
thing I could ever possibly want.

“Oh that’s great cunt, that was brilliant, you sound like a stuck up Daffy
Duck! Tell you what, loose the lisp, but from now on you will only ever use
that voice, stress that stupid accent, and keep it nice and high, you
understand?

Still blushing furiously, I nodded my agreement.

“Good. Now back to the rules. Where were we Jim?”

“Four.” The speed and clarity of Jim’s answer startled me, and it dawned on
me that he was not the idiot neighbor I had taken him for all this time.

“Good. Fourth rule. You will dress at all times in the manner which Jim and
I will outline in a minute. Now we know you have some cushy job working
from home,” my surprise at their knowledge of my habits showed on my face
judging from the smile it elicited on Sam’s as he continued, “so that means
you can wear what we tell you, all the time. I mean when you are working,
sleeping, eating or even fucking! You will at all times wear exactly what
we say. If you need to change, you’ll have to come and see us for
permission. Now is that part clear?”

The full consequences of my capture and surrender were now becoming
painfully obvious. He wanted to run my life according to his sick and
perverted fantasy twenty-four hours a day, and seven day a week. Still I
had no option. I could only agree to obey him in every little humiliating
details and just hope a chance of escape presented itself to me later.

“Yes Master Sam, I agree to do exactly, to wear exactly, and to act exactly
as you tell me, and to only change my clothes with permission from you or
Master Jim.”

“There’s a good little cunt… we need a new name for you! Do you have a
name you call yourself when you’re dressed up as a little cock sucking
faggot?” My eyes dived to the ground in shame, I inadvertently telling him
what he wanted to hear. “You do! I know it! Go on tell us what it is. Tell
us what you call yourself while you act out your sick dreams.”

“Candy.” I mumbled.

“What? I can’t hear you bitch.”

“Candy, Candy Row.” I said clearly.

“Candy Row, what kind of…”

“As in Randy Cow.” His brother Jim quickly worked out. “It’s a
`spoonerism’, you swap the first letter of each word. Candy Row, Randy
Cow.”

“OK. So Candy Row, our little Randy Cow, it is. Rule five. You will always
refer to yourself in the third person. So rather than saying `Please Master
Jim, please may I suck your dick?’ you will say `Please Master Jim, may
Candy suck you big dick?’ You got that?”

“Yes, I under…”

“THEN DO IT!” he screamed at me, causing me to involuntarily shudder as I
backed away from his fury.

“Sorry Master Sam, Candy is sorry. Candy agrees to and understands
everything you have told me… I mean her.” I hastily replied.

Sam let out a long breath as some of the anger drained from his tense
face. “That’s better. This is only going to be as hard as you make it. Me?
Personally, I hope you fight and struggle every step of the way. That way I
get to savor every little nuance of your shame and suffering.”

His words chilled me to the bone. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was
going to make it as hard and uncomfortable for me as he knew how.

“Good, now we digress, back to your new rules. Number… six,” his brother
prompted again, “rule number six is that you will smile your prettiest
smile AT ALL TIMES! No matter how degraded, humiliated or sick you feel,
you will always have a sexy little smile pasted on your pretty little
face. Comprend^Â?”

Again I was forced to politely answer my Master, before he continued, the
rule making apparently over. “So why don’t you stay here sunning your
little ass? I think you front is well done,” I realized with another start
that I had slept in the sun much longer than I had planned, my whole front
and face had caught a great deal more sun than I had planned.

“Here we’ll make sure you stay nice and tight.” This last was said as he
produced a roll of silver duct tape from a previously unnoticed duffel at
his feet. Both boys forcibly rolled me over on to my front and proceed to
bind me, none to gently, to the hammock frame. When finished, I was bound
securely, spread-eagled face down, in the full heat of the sun. Sam
continued. “So let’s get some sun on your dainty little ass.

Sam carefully made sure that my bikini top and thong bottom was in the
correct position to join the tan lines on my front, slapped both my ass
cheeks really hard, and then commented. “Right then, you stay here sunning
your self Candy, while Jim and I go and have a good look around your house”

And so I was left. I don’t know how long I remained bound tightly to my
hammock; it must have been close to two hours. I can tell you that for when
they eventually came back out to the pool, I was dying. The sun was really
hot on my back, exposed ass cheeks, and legs. I was sweltering and ready to
give them anything, I was so thirsty and hot, I would have gladly agreed to
anything they ordered, or even politely asked. I was fried.

“Hey Candy, you ready to come in and get changed for a little shopping?”
Called Sam from the cool depths of my pool as they splashed around mere
inches from my torment.

“Yes please Master Sam. Candy’s ready to go in and get changed now.” I
eagerly replied my smile almost sincere now. Anything to be released from
the stare of the sun.

“Good girl, well why don’t you cool down in here a minute, after that we’ll
go and get you changed and then it’s off to the shops. Hope you have
plenty of money Candy, because we have quite a little shopping spree ahead
of us. But then, all girls love to shop for pretty things, and I bet a
little cock sucking faggot like you is no different Candy? Isn’t that true”

“Yes Master Sam, Candy likes to go shopping for pretty things.”

I was released, stripped naked to show off my new, unmistakably obvious,
tan lines, and provide them with a great opportunity to taunt me about the
small size of my male equipment.

“Look!” called Sam as I climbed in to the delicious coolness of my pool,
“that’s not really big enough to be a dick, it’s more like an oversized
clit! Hey Candy, I can see your Peter-Clit!” I realized it was obviously
about to get worse.

Part 3. Changing:

As I entered my bedroom, it was obvious the brothers had been busy
here. Every drawer was open, so was my wardrobe and every cupboard. There
was a large pile of my clothing stuffed in to several garbage bags just
outside the door. With horror I looked in to my wardrobe and my worse fears
were confirmed as I looked upon my collection of Candy’s clothes. They had
bagged everything masculine thing I owned, and replaced it with all my
skirts, dresses, and blouses. A quick look in to the still open drawers
confirmed the same story; all my jockey shorts were gone, replaced with all
my dainty panties and lacey brassieres. My socks were gone in place of
stocking, garter belts and tights. T-shirts were now my collection of tight
fitting cropped tops, bodysuits, and camisoles and my jewelry was cluttered
on top of my dresser.

My reverie was short lived as Same pushed me on to my bed, now resplendent
in my pink satin sheets I had been saving for a special day, “There you go
Candy, we thought we’d tidy up a little. You won’t be needing all those
ugly masculine clothes and things, so we’re taking those, after all, be a
shame to waste them wouldn’t it?”

“Yes Master Sam.” I smiled as sweetly as I could as I watched them load up
several thousand dollars of good suits, shirts and other clothing.

“Good, now we’ve also moved all your pretty clothes in here for you. Your
pretty undies are all stashed away, and your lovely jewelry is out for
you. Now where’s your makeup?”

“Oh I don’t… I mean, Candy doesn’t wear any make up Master Sam.”

“No? Well we’ll soon see to that. Now Master Jim has picked out something
pretty for you to wear on our trip to the mall and I’ll pick out some
jewelry for you to wear also. What are you waiting for, your clothes are on
the bed. Get changed.”

Please don’t make him be serious? He was, I could see that anger starting
to rise up in him as he watched me watching him. I knew what was coming and
was frightened. I moved quickly to do as he ordered me.

I picked up the butt plug and proceeded to lube it up well with the
thoughtfully provided jar of Vaseline. It was not the first time I had
forced this rather large penis shaped plug up my ass, but the last time was
many months ago and I had stretched my anus very little recently. It was
definitely the first time I had ever had to insert it in front of two
men. Knowing, and shying from, the consequences of refusal, I lubed the
plug well before trying to gingerly slide it up my light hole. After a
minute Sam exploded with anger at my slow progress and grabbed my wrist and
pulled me to him as he sat in my bedroom chair. He roughly forced me over
his lap and then grabbed the butt plug and forced it straight up my
defenseless butt, slapping it fully home with the palm of his right hand. I
screamed as the widest part was forced through my over stretched sphincter
muscle.

Not satisfied that I was in enough pain, and still fueled with his anger at
my perceived reluctance to follow his orders, Sam laid in to spanking my
unprotected ass with his oversized and callused hand. I couldn’t believe
the pain that he was generating in my buttocks! In under a minute, my plan
to never let them see me cry was washed away with the tears that ran freely
down my cheeks. I was sobbing, screaming and begging for him to stop. Only
when I finally promised, swearing upon all manner of deities, promises and
threats, to obey his every spoken word, did he relent and stop his hand
hammering down on my derriere.

He then turned me over and without pausing, forced my small testicles back
up in to their cavity, it was extremely uncomfortable.

As I climbed down from his lap I caught a glimpse of my bottom in the
wardrobe door mirror. It was almost scarlet and was currently burning like
hell from the evil combination of a brutal spanking, and a developing case
of sunburn. Worse, my front view revealed only a small penis, sans balls,
hanging limply and pathetically down.

I was heading for clothes lay out on my bed when Jim announced “Oh that
won’t do. Not at all. We’re going to have to do something about all that
body hair.”

I looked down upon the sparse covering of body hair I was rather proud
of. “Your right Bro.” Agreed Sam. “It’s into the shower with you young Miss
Candy Row. You’re gonna have to shave every last mother hair from that puny
body of yours. Off to the shower you go. But here, no need to go naked is
there?” He through me the most translucent peignoir I had ever owned. This
thing was transparent, only the merest hint of baby blush pink tinted its
shimmering nylon lace. I slipped it on as instructed, for once not even
noticing the silky texture of the robe. My pair of pink satin fur trimmed
mules completed my attire for the seemingly long walk of twenty feet to my
bathroom. My ass was still glowing, fiercely, and the butt plug up my ass
was as uncomfortable as I remembered it to be.

Here, I was instructed to remove the robe and slippers and stand beneath
scalding jets of water and remove every last hair from my body, save those
on my eyebrows, eyelashes and head. When I returned to my bedroom, once
again resplendent in peignoir and four-inch pink shoes, I had been
thoroughly inspected for any single body hair. Further fun had been cruelly
made of my small penis, now even more pathetic looking, sans its
neighborhood pubic forest.

Now I was forced to don the clothing Master Jim… `I must stop myself
thinking of them as `Masters.” My outfit comprised of an a****l print and
black lace bra, a tiny turquoise thong I had been meaning to throw out for
years, due to its too small size. A brilliant red garter belt, a pair of
seamed black stockings, a hooped white mini skirt made from almost
transparent nylon, a pink angora sweater, and my six inch platform
stilettos made from clear plastic completed the wanton attire laid out on
my bed for me.

I was mortified at the prospect of my being seen dressed like this in a
public place like the mall. Once again, I desperately reviewed my options,
hoping against hope that I had somehow missed a way out in my previous
assessments. Unfortunately, none presented themselves to me, so I was left
with on choice but to start putting on the sluttish apparel awaiting me.

With considerable discomfort I worked the miniscule G-string panties up my
legs and in to place around my newly denuded privates, with my penis tucked
back the profile was entirely feminine with my balls stuffed uncomfortably
out of sight. The tribal brassier was next, repacked with my ever jiggling
latex breasts.

I was briefly scolded when I failed to slide the stockings up my legs in a
sufficiently `sissy like’ manner, and was careful there after to live the
roll of Sam’s sissy. Once the seams were straight to Sam and Jim’s
satisfaction, I attached them to the six oversized garters on the belt. The
slip like skirt was next, it’s lack of opaqueness and the tight way it
clung to my still throbbing ass, served to do little to disguise the
presence of my bright turquoise thong and bright red garter belt. Even my
recently tanned thighs were clearly visible.

Sam’s continuos mean looks in my direction convinced me that I had better
get a move on. I quickly slipped the angora sweater over my head, once
again failing to notice a favored texture, but not failing to notice the
way the dark a****l print of my bra was clearly visible through the tightly
stretched fine and fuzzy wool.

As I worked the towering shoes on to my reluctant feet and stood teetering
atop their ridiculous six-inch heels, I realized how exposed I felt dressed
like this. Even here with the two men forcing me to dress in this fashion,
the transparent nature of my skirt, my slutty stockings and garters so
clearly visible, with my bright pink wool sweater snugly hugging my body
wherever it touched, and it touched everywhere. I felt like I was wearing
nothing.

My feeling of insecurity wasn’t helped by Sam’s choice of the jewelry I was
to wear. My largest gold hoop earrings – a full four inches in diameter,
every jangling bracelet I owned, and his finishing touch, when his brother
breathlessly returned, a red studded collar, fresh from the neck of their
bitch Doberman, complete with jangling tags.

“There we go Miss Candy, all dressed up and ready for your big shopping
adventure! Shall we go?”

A final peek in the mirror confirmed my worse fears, an androgynous looking
person, of decidedly uncertain gender, dressed as an obviously lower end
street walker, stared back at me.

Part 4. Coffee in the mall:

Of course I had to drive to the mall, my plug seemingly to stuff my butt
like I was constantly having an enormous bowel movement.

The two boys enjoying playing with every gadget my white Jeep Wrangler had
to offer, thus ensuring we drew more than our fair share of attention much
to my ever increasing horror. Sam directed me to pull off the freeway and
head to the Galleria. With shock I realized that my girlfriend Sherri and
many of our friends used the Galleria to shop and as a meeting place.
“Please Master Sam, can’t Candy go shopping somewhere else?” I pleaded.

Sam picked up on my reluctance immediately. “Oh so there’s some reason you
would rather not go to the Galleria Candy?

Come on, tell Master Sam”

What could I do? “Well, it’s just that I know… I mean Candy knows a lot
of people who go there… including my girlfriend… Sherri… ”

“Well silly” replied Sam in an annoyingly patronizing manner “tell me where
they go, and perhaps we can avoid those places.”

I was so thankful that I blurted out the names of the coffee shop and other
stores I knew Sherri and our friends frequented.

I should have known better than to even think Sam had a compassionate bone
in his body. “You hear that Jimbo, looks like we’re going to have to have
one of those lardy-dah coffee drinks. You see cunt” he said turning back to
me “everyone’s going to see you as a sissy cock-sucker sooner or
later. Haven’t you worked it out yet? This is for keeps, I’m planning on
making your new position a permanent one! So we might as well go in there
now and get it started. I’m sure there’s a whole list of people we gotta
let know about Pasadena’s new official sissy slut!”

We pulled in to the mall and Sam instructed me to park as far away from the
mall as was possible. Of course, that way I would have to put on my show as
we walked down town to get to the mall. `Would it ever end?’ I asked myself
once again.

As we left the parking structure Sam and the now seemingly emboldened Jim,
gave me strict instructions on how I was to deport myself. Not
surprisingly, this comprised of me swinging my ass and breasts about as
much as decency and the laws of gravity would permit. By the time we
entered the Galleria I was strutting my stuff like a veteran hooker, and
drawing an uncomfortable amount of stares from people perplexed by the
androgynous specimen sashaying itself towards the mall.

Once in the mall I was directed to walk precisely five paces behind the two
men, who kept shooting dagger like looks at me if my poise ever belied
anything other than a tart. We proceeded to walk from one end of the mall,
stopping from time to time somewhere inconvenient like right outside the
gentlemen’s toilets, and then back again. The entire time my cheeks were
burning bright red with shame. I would have hidden my face if I had not
already tried, been caught, and warned of the consequences if my head was
anything but held high. My shoulders were to be held rigidly back to
further accentuate my pink wool encased and swirling breasts. My steps were
to small, ensuring the tortuous heels were noisy upon mall tile floors, and
my hips swung lewdly from side to side as I dutifully followed behind my
Masters.

When at last we made it back to where we had entered, Sam informed us it
was time for a refreshing coffee at my friends favored hang out. Cringing
physically, I followed Sam and Jim into the familiar, and once secure,
interior of `The Golden Bean’. A furtive look around revealed no one I
knew, and so I relaxed enough to dutifully follow Sam’s loud orders and to
`be a good slave and fetch us some of those fancy coffees’. I was sure to
`be a good slave’ and get myself a super-sized cup of regular.

Standing in line was nerve wracking as I expected to be recognized at any
moment. Still no one shouted my real name out. Sure I got a lot of strange
looks, and even heard one man refer to me as a “fucking faggot”, my face
erupted in to a deep red blush.

I was grateful to be able to return to the relative sanctuary of the table
the boys had secured. Of course my seat was facing, and directly in front
of the main entrance, ensuring I would be the first thing anybody saw as
they entered the coffee shop. That and the fact that the hard stool served
to further ram my uncomfortable butt plug even further home made sure I was
anything but relaxed.

I dutifully drained my voluminous coffee, and even made it half way trough
the refill I was instructed to purchase, before it happened.

The way I quickly thrust my head into the cover of my arms was enough to
alert Jim that they had hit pay dirt and somebody I knew had just
entered. “Looks like Miss Candy has a friend in the house” he joked.

“Who is it?” hissed Sam.

Reluctantly I told them, “That great big muscle bound guy by the cakes,
he’s some kind of friend of Sherri’s”

“Well then, don’t you think you should go over and say `Hi’? Be sure to use
your new girly voice like we practiced earlier cunt.”

No. He couldn’t be serious? Could he? He didn’t really expect me to go over
to that jock, dressed like this, and strike up a conversation? Please God,
NO!

“Well go on then Candy, go up to the nice man and say Hi. Oh, and be sure
to make sure he knows who you are, you know mention Sherri’s name a few
times to be sure. In fact go on and invite him over to join us, that way we
can be sure he knows all about you. Well go on then, go get him!”

I was forced up out of seat, the ferocity of Sam’s voice had made sure that
all heads were turned in our direction, and were now, thanks to Sam, openly
staring at me. Fighting back waves of nausea, I fought to remain conscious
as I made my blushing way to… what was his name? Dave, Denn, no Don, that
was it Don.

His eyes were locked on to me as I made my way over to him. As quietly as
possible, I dug myself still deeper in to the mire”

Hello Don, how you doing buddy?” I asked in my almost falsetto little girl
voice.

Whether it was my accent or something else that triggered his recognition I
will never know, but his eyes lit up in recognition and surprise.

“It’s… it’s Alan isn’t it? Alan Borne?”

“Yes” I was once again blushing furiously “So. Ahh… well, so how you
been? You look good.”

“Yeah” he stammered, “so do you, I mean a little different from when last I
saw you…”

“Yes well,” I tried to bravely push on, but there was something about Don’s
stare that frightened me a little. I pushed on regardless, “we were
wondering, that is, ah, my two friends over there” I pointed to where Sam
and Jim were listening in enthusiastically “were wondering if you would
like to join us?

“Yeah sure, I’d like to know what all this is about. Believe me, I have a
vested interest” His last comments, and the quick nature of his acceptance
did nothing to dispel my feelings of uneasiness. “Let me get a coffee and
I’ll come join you and `your two friends”.

Of course I should have guessed how it was going to go. My luck wasn’t
exactly sky rocketing at present. Turns out Don had been trying to get
inside the panties of my lovely girlfriend Sherri, and with recent success
I was horrified to learn. He saw this as a perfect opportunity to demolish
my reputation with the woman I was in love with, and at the same time get a
little revenge for the two years he was convinced I had stolen from him by
dating Sherri. Don reveled in telling the brothers and I that Sherri had
finally despaired at the tiny size of my penis, and so had gone to Don for
`some real loving’.

I was distraught. On top of all the indignities heaped on top of me
already, I had now been revealed as a little sissy faggot to the man who
was fucking my girlfriend, and now I had three Masters!

I was dispatched to go loiter outside the gents, “But under no
circumstances was I to use them.” I dutifully loitered, drawing a wide
selection of reactions ranging from hate and contempt, through pity, and on
to lust! Yes, I distinctly remember two different men looking at me in a
decidedly unpleasant sexual manner. Meanwhile the brothers and Don plotted
and planned further injustices upon me.

By the time the three men had completed their discussions, exchanged
numbers and just generally leered at me, I was beginning to feel the
effects of over twenty fluid ounces of coffee and was beginning to squirm a
little.

Sam as always, missed nothing. “What’s the matter there Miss Candy? You
look a little uncomfortable.”

“I need… “A quick ferocious glare made me see my error, “I mean Candy
needs to pee Master Sam.”

“Well that’s too bad then, you should have gone before we left home. Come
on, we’ve got loads of shopping to do. Bring your credit cards cunt, let’s
go.” And so I wobbled and jangled along after them.

Part 5. The Salon:

Our first stop was at a salon I knew Sherri used occasionally. I knew this
because I had spent some time waiting for her here. I was known.

Once inside Sam wasted no time on pleasantries, he strolled up to the
counted and demanded that “Can someone take care of this sissy here right
now!”

I cringed ands felt my face flame red again. A young girl I had never met,
thankfully, came to see what the fuss was all about, “Can I help you…”
again the pause due to my uncertain looking sex, “men, is it?”

“Yes, we’re all men, though to be honest I think my friend Alan here,”
waving to me as I stood rooted to the spot in shame and humiliation. He
continued, “I think Alan, or Candy as he likes to be called, Candy would
like to get a full perm, color, manicure and pedicure. Isn’t that right
Candy?” His openly hostile glare once again told me of the futility in
arguing with him.

“Yes please Miss.” I answered in my now familiar feeling little girly
voice; “Can you please fit Candy in?” I was desperately hoping they would
be too busy on this hot Saturday afternoon.

“Well yes, it’s pretty quiet here for a Saturday, I think Gloria can help
you now.”

Gloria, I recognized the name immediately from some only half listened to
conversation I’d had with Sherri about her stylist. Gloria was Sherri’s
stylist, and friend.

The brothers Grimm followed me through to the work area where Gloria and
one other girl were chatting to themselves in an empty salon. As we
approached I could see she didn’t recognize me, after all it is quite a
leap to go from normal man, to androgynous slut.

The young lady from the front was quick to explain my situation to Gloria,
whose eyebrows rose accordingly. She looked at me with renewed interest,
just as Sam blew away the final veil of recognition, “Hello there, this
young man Alan, wants a big blonde curly hair do. We are talking big
hair. Isn’t that right Alan? You want something more befitting your new
status in life, something more in keeping with your new role of Candy the
cock sucking sissy sex slave?”

Again I was forced to totally demean myself and ask for something I had
absolutely no desire for. “Yes please Gloria.”

But Gloria wasn’t listening, the use of my real first name, coupled with my
unmistakable accent, had caused her to lean forward and to stare in to my
eyes. “I know you! You’re Alan. Sherri’s… boyfriend? I knew Sherri said
you were a little pathetic at times, but I had no idea it was this
pathetic!”

Ow! Even now, it hurt to hear the lady I thought was in love with me had
been telling her friends, even her hair stylist, that I `was a little
pathetic’.

Gloria suddenly seemed very enthusiastic to help in my humiliation. “Well
then Alan, why don’t you step out of your cute little stockings and we go
get your hair washed while your friends here” this was said with a look of
pretty intense lust directed at Sam, “tell Monica what it is exactly `you’
want done.” With that, she allowed me two minutes to hastily remove my
stockings, not bothering to tell me why, then grabbed my wrist, with more
force than was necessary, and dragged me towards the hair washing stations
at the rear of the store.

Once again I found myself careening along with no say in my future, I was
not enjoying this at all. Once in among the wash stations Gloria let me
know exactly what she thought of me. “I can’t believe how pathetic you are,
no wonder Sherri’s been looking else where for some decent sex. Oh yes
Alan, or didn’t I hear you called Candy back there?” My down turned eyes
confirmed her answer. “Well Miss Candy, I cannot wait to see Sherri and
tell her how pathetic little you is being forced to flounce around the mall
in your slutty little clothes, forced by two teenagers at that. They aren’t
even real men!” She erupted in laughter as she viciously yanked my head
back under the hot water and proceeded to lather my hair.

It was with mounting regret that I lamented my decision to let my hair grow
out. Although up to a little over four hours ago I’d thought it kinda cool
in a grunge way, I was now regretting it badly. Gloria had a lot to work
with, and I desperately feared what was being discussed back in the salon.

Once my hair had been shampooed and conditioned, I was lead back in to the
salon.

“Hey Gloria, we thought you might like to use Lisa’s station? She’s not
here, and you have to admit it has the best view!” this last comment was
met with gales of laughter from all, but me. I realized the source of their
laughter when I was made to sit in the chair immediately next to the large
glass windows that comprised the front of the store.

“Hey look Candy. Look what we made for you!” Sam was holding a piece of
white cardboard, twenty inches high and nearly three feet in width. Written
in large, eye-catching, and bold text was the legend: SEE A MAN BE
TRANSFORMED IN TO A SISSY BEFORE YOUR VERY EYES!

Again I could only marvel at what terrible injustices could make a man such
a sadistic bastard. He never missed an opportunity to make a terrible
ordeal even worse. Sam was a natural sadist, but not just the stupid
violent kind; no he was a meticulous and intelligent natural psychological
bully. With much laughter, Sam taped the billboard in to place in the
window right next to me. Worse, as Gloria and Monica started work on me,
Sam and Jim went outside to first stare, but then to actively get people to
watch my ordeal from a few feet from where I burned with shame.

Gloria and Monica went to work on me. Pulling out all the stops as my hair
was soaked with an array of evil smelling chemicals, both my toes and
fingers were fussed over, all unseen by me as I was ordered to keep my eyes
tightly close during the entire procedure. All I knew was that it felt like
my toes were painted; my fingernails had something glued to them before
being sprayed with something involving a small compressor and airgun. I was
guided, with my eyes still screwed shut, to a chair with a hair dryer over
it. Once the hair dryer was positioned over my head, blocking out all
sounds from outside, I felt it being moved. Strongly believing Sam’s threat
of making me give blowjobs out in the nearby crowded mall toilets, I opted
to follow his orders and not sneak a peak. If I had I would have been
mortified to learn that they had actually wheeled me outside the store.
Little known to me, I was providing free entertainment as I sat there,
oblivious to everything but the loud hum of the hairdryer. Sam’s sign was
now prominently taped to the chair besides me.

For over an hour I sat there as streams of people, mostly strangers but
probably one or two people whom new me personally, walked by, or worse
stopped to study the ridiculous spectacle I was unwillingly providing.

Finally Gloria decided I was `done’ so I was wheeled back inside and helped
back to the window side chair. Gloria now set about piercing my
ears. Apparently it had been decided that I should have each ear pierced
three times! Gloria loved her work. I could hear how much enjoyment I was
providing her each time I grunted when she finally stopped toying with me
and pierced another of the holes. “Oh you are such a sissy Candy, even
little school girls make less of a fuss than you are”. I decided against
pointing out that most of these little treasures she was describing to me,
were probably here of their own volition, and probably only had two holes
at a time!

Monica fixed three pair of gold studs in place while lecturing me on how to
take care of them, and not to wear anything too large for about a
week. Meanwhile Gloria was putting the finishing touches to my `new’ hair,
which I had yet to catch a glimpse of, as she yanked on a comb, pulling and
twisting my hair and head all over my head.

Finally! They were done. I was told I could open my eyes. The first thing I
saw, once my eyes adjusted to the glare, was a crowd of about nine people
all staring and smiling, their eyes a mixture of pity, lust and disgust, at
me in the chair now facing outside the salon. Sam then spun my chair around
with a fanfare call of “Ta-Raaa!”

I couldn’t believe my eyes. The face was still unmistakably mine, but that
was all you could say. My still vaguely recognizably masculine face was
framed, no surrounded, by a mass of brilliant platinum blond tresses. The
slightest movement of my head resulted in a gorgeous eruption of light and
cascading platinum curls. It was gorgeous, if only it wasn’t on me, I mean,
if only it wasn’t my hair!

“Check out your nails!” cried a delighted Sam.

For some reason I looked at my toenails first, they are brilliantly
candy-pink colored. Immediately I see my new fingernails from the corner of
my eye. In mounting horror I hold them up for closer inspection. They are
horrendous! Each nail continues from where my natural nail finished a
repulsive full half an inch. Worse, on each vivid pink nail is a mildly
pornographic image of a woman holding a different suggestive pose on each
nail. Closer inspection reveals that the accurately sprayed rendering is of
me. The enormous platinum locks confirm that it is intended to be me lying
holding my legs wide open up in the air. It is me on all fours with a hand
`fondling’ my ass, it’s me sucking on the large dildo, and it’s me holding
my enormous breasts up for review. I’m way too shocked to think to comment
on the amazing detail on each nail, and my eyes are only pulled from my
nails by catching myself brushing back a stray lock of hair that fell over
my eyes. I realize with a start what an obviously feminine reflex it is.

Jim, of course, also does not fail to recognize it as such. “Did you see
that?” he shouts, “Did you see her brush her bangs from her eyes? Man, that
is such a sissy thing to do!”

Unfortunately Gloria had also seen me do it and quickly joined Sam in
turning the screws down a little tighter on my rapidly decreasing
masculinity.

“You know Candy, I think you’re enjoying this. I think you like being made
to look like a hot sissy slut. I suppose that way you figure you’ll be able
to attract lots of me, then you can suck on their big hard cocks, and let
them fuck you up your tight little virgin sissy-pussy. Is that what you
think Candy? Go on tell your Auntie Gloria. Tell Auntie Gloria that’s what
you think and that’s what you want to do, go on tell Auntie!”

Sam threatened to back hand me as I started to lower my head in shame,
planning to mumble some response, “Now you tell your nice Auntie Gloria
what she wants, and you make sure you do it loud and clear, and in your
best voice.”

I again avoided pain by giving him what he wanted, my pride. “Yes Auntie
Gloria. Thank you so much for making Candy look such a sissy slut, now
Candy can attract lots of men. Then Candy can suck on their big hard cocks
and let them fuck Candy up her virgin sissy-pussy.”

“Now then Candy,” interrupted Sam, “your sissy-pussy’s not really a virgin
is it? Tell Auntie Gloria why not.”

Being sure to maintain an acceptable pose and volume, I told them all what
I thought Sam wanted me to say. “No, that’s right Master Sam,” this
elicited more laughter from the girls and those spectators still close
enough to hear, “Candy currently has a large butt plug up her virgin
sissy-pussy.”

“And who’s plug is it Candy?” quizzed an evilly smiling Sam.

“It’s Candy’s butt plug Master Sam.”

“And you have many more toys, don’t you Candy. Tell us exactly what toys
you own.”

God this was so hard to do. “Candy has two vibrators, one eight inches long
and shaped exactly like a big black cock, the other is much smaller and is
silver. Candy also owns three butt plugs shaped like penises. One small,
the medium one is in Candy’s sissy-pussy now, and one even larger one. And
Candy also owns a string of beads, and a vibrating artificial vagina.”

“Oh that must be for you to practice licking pussy on!” roared Sam.

After much more humiliating recitals of my peculiar sexual peccadilloes as
I was `permitted’ to supply a further show highlight, by putting my seamed
stockings back on, in clear view of the main mall walkway. Sam and Jim
temporarily tired of poking fun at me so ordered that I pay Gloria and
Monica, being sure to tip them each handsomely. We were on our way back in
to the mall.

Part 6. Made Up:

Our next port of call was at the cosmetics counter of a large department
store.

“How can I help you… you… young men?” she guessed as she studied me
closely for evidence of my true gender.

“Well thank you Miss. The truth is my sissy friend Alan, I’m sorry, I mean
my sissy faggot friend Candy here, needs to buy a complete set of make
up. Everything from lip-gloss to eyelashes, to blusher, to that tan muck
you spread all over the face… you know? The works.”

The girl could only stare incredulously at me. “Is that true?” she asked in
amazement, “I mean do you, do you really want me to help you choose out a
complete set of cosmetics for you?”

“Yes” I mumbled, and then as Sam shot me another look, louder, “Yes please
Miss, Candy would love for you to help her choose some makeup.”

“Well OK then… ahh, what look do you want?”

Sam interrupted her “Oh we think something really vampish. You know
something like those women in that movie `Boogey Nights’. You seen that
one?”

“Well… yes I have, but that was based in the seventies, it’s an awfully
slutty look, perhaps we could…”

Sam cut her short again “Yes that’s what she, I mean HE, wants. You want to
look really slutty don’t you Candy? You know. Tell the nice young lady how
you want to be a real slut so that you can attract all the men. Go on tell
her.”

This was continuously getting worse. Now I had to ask a perfect stranger to
advise me on the right cosmetics to make me look a complete slut. “Yes
please Miss, Candy wants to look really slutty to attract all the men.”

“Oh and Candy, be sure to hold your sign up where everybody can see it” he
passed me my billboard.

The sales assistant hesitated briefly before she realized the commission
available from such a sale and her tone became cold and courteous. After
all, it meant nothing to her who bought the stuff; “OK, then walk this
way… uh Miss Candy” she sneered.

I was led to a high chair besides the `Wet `n’ Wild’ cosmetics
stand. Figures Sam would deliberately pick out the booth with the most
garish selection seemingly specifically targeted at rambunctious teenagers
seeking to shock the establishment through wearing too much loud cosmetics.

I climbed up upon the seat, being sure to position my sign clearly upon my
lap as instructed, trying to ignore the comments and stares of the
passersby. I couldn’t help both rejoicing on the relief the chair provided
my feet and cursing the damned butt plug forced deep up inside me again. I
realized that once again I had been maneuvered to the seat most publicly
situated. As the sales lady plied my face and carried on a running
commentary about what each lotion, creme and ointment would do for my
complexion, and how best to apply them, Sam and Jim took off for another
part of the store. As Abigail, I learned from her badge, smothered my
smooth face with a base of something unpleasant smelling, I thought about
escape. This was the first time I had been allowed out of the brother’s
sight, if I was to run, it would have to be now, but where? Sam had my car
and house keys, and my wallet. I had no where to go, and no way to get
there. I realized that once again I had no choice but to play along with
them, and just hope I escaped or they lost interest, before any lasting
damage was done to my body or my mental state. So I sat still and Abigail
did her job.

Finally, Abigail was finishing up her masterpiece, having plucked my
eyebrows back in to thin high arches, having glued enormously thick and
heavy false eyelashes to both the top and bottom natural lashes. She had
meticulously traced a pouting outline with a dark lipliner around my lips,
before filling in the spaces with a dazzling scarlet lipstick, which was
then smothered in a sickly tasting gloss. My blue eyes were high lighted by
the combination of the thick masscared eyelashes, dark blue kohl pencil
outlining, complete with a large Egyptian tick at the far corners. The
shimmering eyelids above them also further accentuated them. A combination
of bright blue, pink and brown eyeshadow, all three were heavily dosed with
gold glitter, served to light up my eyes. A too heavy brush of pink blush
completed my transformation from happy man, to sultry reluctant sissy. And
all this was framed by my dazzlingly eye-catching mass of tightly curled
and flowing platinum blond tresses. There was no way you could look in to
my face and think anything other than sexy looking slut. All trace of Alan
Borne was gone.

The return of Sam and Jim coincided with Abigail bagging way too many pots,
jars, tubes, sticks and bottles of makeup in to two full size plastic
bags. There were lipsticks ranging from pale pink, through blood red to
mauve, nail polish including turquoise and lime green, and eyeshadow in
almost every garish color known to man.

Sam handed me back my wallet, commenting “We must get you a pretty purse
Candy, that way you’ll have somewhere to carry your makeup, pocket book and
toys…” The last part worried me, toys?

“Here.” He said as he passed me another full carrier bag, “we got you some
perfume. You’d better put some on now.” He opened the bag and removed a
large bottle of Coco, by Chanel. “This has always been a favorite of
mine. Here you go.” And with that he proceeded to drench me in the sickly
perfume, applying way too much.

Stinking like brothel I paid Abigail, I was horrified to find that the
total for my makeover and carry out was in excess of $450!

Worse, Sam insisted I give Abigail a $30 tip. This could get expensive for
me real quick; it wasn’t like I was rolling in cash to start with.

Ignoring my pleas to let me please use the bathroom, we set off back in to
the mall at a dizzying pace. To keep up, and still walk in a manner
approved by my young Masters, I had to practically jog along behind them
with tiny little mincing steps. The effect was spectacular, my heels rained
out a staccato beat on the hard tile floor, and my breasts were jumping up
and down all over the place. Such was the way they were bouncing,
practically unfettered, inside my tight pink sweater, there was a very real
threat of my accidentally ejecting a water filled condom out from my
visible bra and on to the floor for everyone to see.

Part 7. Clothes:

My bladder was full to overflowing, and I was finally able to persuade Jim
to let me go to the bathroom. I had not realized that he had purposefully
waited for the mall’s busiest lunch period, and was shocked when he refused
me entry to the gents, where I was heading on autopilot. Where you think
you’re going Candy? That’s your bathroom over there.” He was pointing to
the long line outside the ladies toilets.

I was forced to stand inline, never having felt more an imposter in my
life, and enter that sacrilegious area off limits to every man. As I stood
waiting patiently inline, I could hear the thinly veiled comments as to my
`disgusting’ state of dress, and questions as to what kind of slut would
dress like that for a trip to a crowded mall. I could not get out of there
quick enough, and was actually relieved to get back to Jim and Sam.

We moved on to a large store which appeared to specialize in clothes and
accessories for teenage girls, while Sam escorted me to a young bored
looking sales assistant, Jim went off to check out the stores collection of
jewelry. Heaving the two heavy bags of cosmetics with me, I moved to stand
the approved distance behind Master Jim as he addressed the
assistant. “Hello Miss. I wonder if you would be so kind as to help my
friend Alan, say hello Alan, say hello to… ” He leaned over the counter
to read her name tag, “say hello to Vivica.”

“Hello Vivica.”

Vivica’s mouth dropped open in amazement as she stared open mouthed as this
vision of blond beauty was revealed to be a man! Her pretty face changed,
instantly, in to a sneer of contempt. “You pervert! What are you? Sick or
something?”

“Well yes he is Vivica” interrupted Sam, “You see he gets off being treated
really badly by strangers in public places. Isn’t that true Candy, tell the
nice Miss Vivica how you love it when someone like her treats you like the
piece of shit you are. Tell her how happy you’d be if she would dress you
like the little slut you long to be, and be sure to mention what a big
tipper you are.”

“Yes, it’s true Miss Vivica, Candy would love it if you would be so kind as
to help me pick out some dresses…”

“Go on Candy” hissed Sam.

“Please Miss Vivica, help dress Candy like the little slut she wants so
badly to be, you can treat me like shit.” I practically begged the bitch.

Her face lit up as she realized what an opportunity for my total
humiliation she was being presented with. “Well, since you asked so nicely
Candy, I would be happy to make your shopping experience a living
hell. Come on slut, let’s go get you dressed.”

For the next fifty minutes I was forced to parade in and out of the
dressing rooms in a fantastic collection of lingerie, catsuits, micro-mini
skirts and dresses, tube tops, incredibly tight Capri pants and hot pants.
With every item, no matter how small or revealing, and I knew for a fact
that Miss Vivica was showing me nothing of an evenly vaguely conservative
nature, every little item had to be worn outside the changing room for a
public display. Each piece of clothing was modeled for the purposes of
further degrading me, and for the pleasure of Sam, Jim, Vivica, and any
passersby’s. I was forced to twirl, bend over, sit with my legs crossed,
uncrossing and recrossing them time and time again, any position that would
possibly cause me any more humiliation. Then it was back to the changing
room for the next skimpy little outfit, as Sam and Jim told Vivica which
items I would be buying, all to frequently ordering the item in a size
smaller than that which I had already had trouble squeezing myself into.

As the `sweet Miss Vivica’ was folding my purchases prior to packing them
in to yet more bags for me to carry, she commented to Sam, “You know I have
a friend who would be most interested in meeting young Miss `Thing’ here?”

“Really” I could tell Sam’ interest was piqued.

“Yeah, his names Tyrone and he takes great pleasure in little sissies like
Candy here. Mind you, I should warn you he’s over six foot-six and three
hundred pounds.”

“Oh that’s OK, I think it important that Candy here broadens her horizons!”

“Good then. Here let me get Candy’s number, I’ll have Ty call her. He can
introduce her around the LA DOM/sub scene… as well as a very personal
introduction to over eleven inches of solid Negro man meat!”

While I reeled in horror at her words, both Sam and Jim thought it
hysterically funny. “What do you say to that Candy, looks like `Y’o gonna
be some big ol’ Nigger’s bitch’. Just think of it, a hulking great black
man holding you tightly and forcing his enormous manhood up your little
sissy-pussy. We gotta get you home so that we can move you up a size in
plugs.”

“Maybe we ought to stop off on the way and pick up a few other toys for
little Miss Candy!” jeered Jim.

With this new threat hanging over my head, I was made to give Vivica my
home and business numbers so she could pass them on to her friend Tyrone.

My next pleasure was the shoe shop in the center of the mall. As we entered
a young man, more a boy really, came over to ask how he could help us. Sam
explained that I was here to buy some `come-fuck-me-pumps’. The boy’s eyes
nearly popped out of his sockets as he checked me out in my tiny little
costume.

He regained his composure enough to have me sit and measure my feet, all
the while sneaking not too conspicuous glances up my long legs. He
disappeared to the back of the store to fetch some shoes and Sam took this
opportunity to order me “I want you to flirt with the k**, you know let him
see right up your skirt, and use your feet to feel his dick up.”

He returned carrying three boxes and proceeded to fit me with the most
hideously heeled shoes I had ever seen. These comprised of one pair with
towering six inch heels covered with rhinestones, another pair of six
inchers in black patent leather with an ankle strap with a large gold
buckle, and a final pair of red leather Mules with a paltry five inch heel.

I obediently allowed him an uninterrupted view up my long legs, past my
bright red garter belt and all the way to my tiny turquoise G-string. As he
fitted the first of the shoes, the red Mules, I obediently slid my other
foot down to his crotch, trying to ignore the fact that my skirt
consequently slid further up my thighs. He jumped as my black nylon clad
foot found his growing erection and proceeded to massage it through the
shiny polyester of his pants.

Each pair had to be tried on and modeled by me before young Pete would
slowly remove them and fit the next pair, all the while massaging my nylon
clad foot as I rubbed his tool with my painted toes. When we finally left,
with all three pairs, Pete was sporting an embarrassing dark spot and I had
a damp foot and bright red face.

Finally, we were done shopping. Struggling under the load of bags
containing over $1,900 of skirts, dresses, blouses, lingerie, shoes and
cosmetics, and with my billboard sign taped to my sleazily gyrating ass, I
wiggled my way after my tormentors, out to the car park.

Part 8. Eric & Porn:

True to his word, Jim made us stop at a large adult shop about two miles
from my house. I was forced to go inside, look everything over, while being
sure to bend over in a most provocative manner, with the brothers looking
on. I then had to purchase ten explicit magazines which covered such
delightful subjects as inter-racial sex (Sam though this would be good
studying for my upcoming date with Tyrone), b********y, female domination,
cock and ball torture and gay sex. Plus, I had to ask the clerk to advise
on which were their biggest butt plugs and vibrators, and buy two of each.

The clerk was a total pig who kept making thinly veiled comments as to how
he could take care of the blond goddess before him, meaning I wouldn’t need
to buy the toys with him around.

The brothers held a quick conference and while Jim dragged me around to
select from the stores comprehensive collection of whips, paddles,
handcuffs, nipple clamps, restraints and pathetically skimpy fantasy wear,
Sam held a whispered conversation with the clerk.

Finally, my arms over flowing with toys, clothes and restraints, Jim led me
to the check out where I was forced to fork over my credit card again for
another four hundred dollar plus spree. Worse, the clerk insisted on
checking my ID, and reading my name, address and telephone number out loud
for the other shifty looking customers to snigger at.

If I thought my humiliation in this store was over, I was mistaken. “Why
don’t you ask the nice man, Eric here,” Gesturing to fat slob of a clerk,
“to show you how to use this?” Sneered Sam as he selected an enormous black
butt plug from my purchases. “This one looks suitable to get you prepared
for your forthcoming dates with big black Tyrone!”

“Yeah, right on!” sleazed little brother Jim, ” and while your at it, why
don’t you get him to help you put these on too?” He handed me an enormous
pair of incredibly life like silicone breasts. One side was smooth where it
fitted against the wearers chest, but the other must have been close to a
`D’ cup, complete with an impressively jutting nipple, half an inch in
diameter, close to an inch in length. The flesh coloring, including the
aureole and nipples were very life like. Sam also selected me a change of
clothing, the pathetically inadequate pink French maids outfit I had just
purchased for a mere $170. I was mortified, not only would I have to dress
up like some little school boys fantasy French maid, but I would have to
force this gigantic black plug up my ass, all the while receiving most
unwanted assistance from this fetid pig of a clerk.

“Please Master’s, don’t make me… don’t make Candy do this, please!” I was
begging Sam and Jim, but I could already see it was to no avail. I had no
choice but to comply.

“Please Eric, would you please be so kind as to help me?”

“Well of course Candy, it would be my pleasure to assist you.” He replied
with heavily faked sincerity. “Come with me, we don’t have a changing room,
but we can use one of the peep show booths.”

As I made my way, teetering upon my high heels behind his corpulent ass,
Sam called after us, “Be sure to show Eric your gratitude Candy. I’ll be
questioning him about your behavior when you get back.” Great, I thought,
what new indignity would this involve?

Eric found us a clear booth and switched on a video using his master
passkey. The screen lit up to show two young ladies taking `on’ a
horse. Eric positioned his considerable bulk in to the one seat, leaving me
to stand on a floor that was sticky with fluids, of which I had no wish to
know their origins.

“Go on then Candy. Sam’s told me all about you, how you like to dress up as
a little slut so that you can make men lust after you and then suck their
cocks. I’m looking forwards to you getting to be real intimate with my
cock. But first, why don’t you slip in to something more uncomfortable.”

I was then forced in to the most degrading strip tease imaginable. As more
and more of my flesh was revealed Eric ran his hands all over my body,
apparently not giving a damn about my true gender. Finally I was naked;
Eric took great delight in having me fondle my “tiny clitty” for him. He
insisted that I writhe around in a “Seductive” manner as I fondled myself
and watched the movie and he fondled my ass. Despite the incredible
feelings of revulsion at what had, and was continuing, to happen to me, I
eventually erupted in an orgasm, shooting my seed over the floor.

Eric then insisted I sit on the mucky floor while he prepared the adhesive
for my new breasts, and I massaged his revolting erection through his dirty
trousers. Such was my level of repulsion as my sleazily manicured hands
slid up and down his polyester encased manhood, that I failed to notice
that he was using Super Glue to coat the back of the silicone
monstrosities.

“Here you go Candy, time for a little augmentation. Be a good little sissy
and kneel for a mo.”

With my hands still stroking his revolting cock and my face bearing my
almost permanent smile, I did as I was bid. He carefully positioned both
breasts at one, quickly positioning them and holding them firmly in
place. Within thirty seconds he was able to let go and let them hang
free. Their weight surprised me as the dropped, I could feel the adhesive
pulling at my natural chest and as I straightened my back I was amazed at
how lifelike they looked as they jiggled and swung below me. With my back
held straight they still jutted straight out from my chest, looking like
twin torpedoes. I now had breasts, complete with silver dollar sized areola
and nipples that appeared permanently aroused as they jutted forth a full
three quarters of an inch long and nearly a half wide. I looked like a
character from a Japanese Hentai cartoon.

“There. Now you got you some real tits!” laughed Eric as he pulled and
cupped them. “Make `em bounce for me!” So I jumped up and down on the spot,
and bent over and wiggled my chest in his face. I was amazed at how life
like they looked, but hated their heavy weight and apparent decision making
ability as I swear they never Stayed still.

“Now lets see about getting your ass stretched out for your `big’ date.”
Laughed Eric, for some reason he thought this double- entenrde hilarious.

Relieved to be able to quit bouncing all over the place, or rubbing his
dick through his pants, I was never the less revolted as I was made to
remove my existing butt plug. To my horror Eric then forced it in to my
mouth, and then turned me around to allow him access to my vaguely still
virginal asshole. After a few painful attempts at forcing it up dry, Eric
relented and let me remove the much smaller one from my mouth. I thought I
was getting away with it – wrong.

He made me kneel in front of him and practice my `oral technique’ on the
enormous black plug. This thing was six inches in length, and at its widest
over two inches in diameter, like the last one it was shaped as a realistic
penis, complete with glans and veins. I could barely get my mouth around it
and left traces of my scarlet lipstick around its glistening head as I
followed orders and kissed and licked it before taking it whole in to my
mouth. Eric delighted in him holding it while enjoying watching me bob up
and down on it as he slowly worked it deeper and deeper down my stretched
throat. Finally, after coming very close to gagging a few times, I was able
to accommodate it fully. He then sawed it in and out of my mouth while
moving my head around to enjoy the spectacle from all different
angles. That was the easy bit.

Eric told me to be sure to lube it well with saliva as `I knew where it was
going next’. After spreading as much saliva over the repulsive latex toy, I
turned around as told, and reached back to pull my ass cheeks wide apart.

“Oh such pretty nails Candy. I’d love to see you in all those poses. Did
you pick out the designs yourself?”

Any answer I might have had was lost as he screwed the ass plug fully
home. My scream must have woken the dead as I felt the widest part slip
past my sphincter. God, I felt so stuffed, so full, so incredibly
stretched.

Satisfied with progress so far, Eric decided it was time for me to put on a
little show for him, for the next ten minutes I was forced to jump up and
down to make my new mammoth breasts leap all over the place. I was then
ordered on to all fours so that he could use the toe of his shoe to force
my plug fully home, while making my pendulous breasts swung violently
beneath me as I grunted with the pain he caused me on the filthy floor.

Finally it was time for me to get dressed. With much `help’ from Eric, I
was squeezed in to the miniscule French maid’s outfit. The uniform
comprised of a big fluffy flared petticoat that served to push the white
lace trimmed hem of the pathetic little pink dress up until it was over 45
degree above my thighs. Black fishnet stocking were clipped to the white
garter belt, and a pair of hideously frilly white and pink, rumba style
panties encased my still sore buttocks. The shiny pink satin dress itself
was incredibly revealing and was designed so that a bra could not be worn,
my new breasts were proudly displayed on a built in shelf, the lacey bib of
the dress barely rising to cover `my’ aureole. My new nipples were proudly
jutting through the stretchy white lace. A little lace bib, which ties with
a large flouncey bow in back, lace headdress, and lacey fingerless gloves,
all in white, completed my attire.

With my platform shoes back in place, Eric had me practice my `maids walk’
within the tight confines of the booth. This involved me holding my hand
down by my hips, with my fingers held up and out from me, and walking with
quick little steps, never extending my gait beyond eight inches. The result
was that my breasts jiggled maniacally all over the place and the hem of my
dress kept flipping up to reveal a generous view of my stocking tops,
thighs and even my frilly panty clad derriere.

My next `treat’ was to squeeze in to the small chair next to Eric, and
while his hand roamed freely all over my body, mine returned to rubbing his
stiff little dick through his shiny pants. We watched the disgusting movie
in this manner for a little while, Eric all the while commenting and
questioning on what was happening on screen.

“See the size of that horses dick Candy, do you think your boyfriends will
be that big?’ Or “I bet you can’t wait until you get to suck on a real
dick. I can tell you’re a natural cock sucker from the way you sucked on
that big ol’ butt plug.” His words made me remember that I was still
expected to show Eric my `gratitude’.

I think Eric remembered this about the same time I did. “Well I tell you
what Miss Candy, why don’t you help yourself right now?

Go on, have at it!” this last was said while looking down at his hard cock.

Groaning with humiliation and fighting a strong urge to puke, I slip to my
knees in front of him. Please God no, please don’t make me have to do
this. But God was busy elsewhere as I found my long fingernails reaching
out and inexpertly puling down his fly. Eric let out his own little groan
as my warm fingers reached in to his shorts and released his horrid penis
in to the flickering lights of the peep show booth.

Once free from its confines, I was alarmed to see it was not as small as I
had hoped. In truth it was a little over six inches tall, but easily as
wide as the plug currently painfully stretching my poor asshole. I ran my
pink finger nailed hands up and down its length, attempting to postpone the
inevitable, and also shocked to see how entirely feminine my small gloved
hands did indeed look wrapped around Eric’s thick tool.

Inevitably, Eric confirmed I could delay no longer. “Go on then Candy, kiss
my beauty, plant a big wet smacker right on its eye. Then lets see that
lovely tongue of yours dancing around my knob head.”

Crying inside I did as instructed and lowered my head to plant a long,
slow, kiss on the top of his glans, spreading his pre-cum with my
lips. Then fighting back the nausea, I proceeded to run my tongue up and
down, and all around its length and crown. My saliva glistened like sliver
in the reflected light from the screen behind me, and there were traces of
my bright red lipstick all over it’s length. Taking a handful of my long
flowing hair, Eric decided to set me a more suitable pace and proceeded to
force my mouth down over his engorged cock. My screams quickly became
stifled moans as his glans forced its way into my mouth and down my
throat. Maintaining his painful handful of my platinum curls Eric set the
pace as he forced my head up and down his dick. I could not believe the
combination of revulsion, humiliation and pain as his seemingly monstrous
dick slid up and down my throat. I was actually sucking, no deep throating
a man! Sure, it was totally against my will, but that didn’t alter the fact
that in the space of one day, I had allowed myself to be changed from a man
into a totally submissive sissy. A sissy who was even now having her face
fucked while dressed in enormous fake boobs. A skimpy, little, totally
revealing, fetish costume, while kneeling in a combination of mine and
countless perverts congealed semen, and in a porno shops peepshow booth to
boot!

Eric released his grip on my hair and quietly instructed me how he wanted
it done, “That’s it, hold your throat open, keep your teeth well back
unless you want to loose them. Stop every now and lick and kiss my balls,
you can fondle them while your deep throating me. You can even slip one of
those sexy nails up my butt if you like,” I did not like, “Go on let me
hear how much you’re enjoying yourself, let’s here some good moaning! And
while you’re at it, show me those gorgeous new tits of yours.”

Again I had no choice but to ignore my better judgement and comply with his
every demand. I eased down the tiny lace bib of my pink dress and let my
enormous new breasts free from their scanty and inadequate prison. They
flopped all over the place as I maintained my furious pace bobbing up and
down in his disgusting lap. Soon I was moaning and cooing sexy
encouragement to `my lover’ as I shuddered with revulsion which Eric
mistook for real pleasure as I rained kissed down upon his hairy sweaty
smelling testicles. “Oh you like this baby, don’t you? That’s it suck my
balls, suck my balls. Ah yes, Wow! I can see you love this Candy you slut,
tell me how good it feels.”

So, as I was sliding one saliva slippery white gloved hand up and down his
shaft while I slurped away furiously on the head of his dick, and my other
hand cupped and gently squeezed his balls, I told him between mouthfuls of
his disgusting manhood. “Yes baby, Candy loves the feel of your stiff cock
in her mouth.”

One moment I would have one of his gross testicles in my mouth and the next
I would have his pubic hair on my lips and nose as I took his entire length
in my throat. Eric liked to reach down and fondle his visible hardness
within my grossly distended and stretched throat, further adding to my
natural gag reflex. This only served to further stimulate the fat bastard
as my throat contracted tightly around the thick cock he was feeding in and
out of my mouth.

Anything, I would do anything to make him cum quickly and this torment
stop. Sure enough, after about fifteen minutes of my total humiliation I
felt him tense, he then grabbed my hair again to spear his dick down my
throat as he started to gush his hot salty jism inside of me. I struggled
to get his dick out of my throat and Eric allowed me to lift my head, never
releasing his grip on my hair, until his cum was shooting in to my mouth. I
couldn’t believe how much there was, immediately it started overflowing my
mouth and running down my chin. This appeared to give Eric an idea and he
pulled his still spurting dick from my mouth and proceeded to ejaculate his
remaining seed all over my face, neck and breasts.

I was dripping with the evil stuff. It gummed up my left eye as it mixed
with the mascara and served to make my eye water. It ran in rivulets down
my chin and neck and large globs of it had settled on the bodice of my pink
uniform, forming dark circles with creamy white centers. I was a total
mess, and totally wigged out at what I had just been forced to endure.

“Wow, that was great Candy, you are a natural cock sucker, that was a truly
great blow job. You have along and illustrious career ahead of you young
sissy.”

Surprisingly, his praise did little to lift my spirits.

“Now clean the old chap up, kiss him goodbye, for now I hope, and tuck him
back up.”

And so I was forced to lick any remaining traces of his jism from his
deflating penis.

“Why don’t you tell me and our viewers how much you enjoyed that, and how
you love the taste of my cum.” He added.

So while slurping noisily on his disgusting pecker I moaned in my most
sultry impression of a sexy little slut, “Oh that was great Eric, `kiss,
kiss, slurp, slurp’ thank you so much for letting Candy feast upon your
magnificent dick, `slurp, slurp’. You are such a great lover Eric, you
rule!” I was getting unknowingly good at telling these lies; “I just love
to suck your big cock… `kiss, kiss, slurp,’ and drink down your delicious
sperm, `slurp, slurp, ‘I love the taste of jism.”

He interrupted me to tell me, “While your doing such a good job, show us
how much you really love it by rubbing it into your tits, shoulders and
neck.”

Us? Viewers? Was there something he had omitted to tell me? I wondered as I
worked his now cool sperm in to my exposed flesh, both my gloves were
already ruined and caked with his spunk.

All the while I was apparently delighting in telling the fat slob what a
great little sissy cocksucker I was. How I loved to dress up like a real
sexy slut, like a whore, because that’s what I was, what I wanted to be, a
cum drinking whore. All the better to attract more of the type of men I
loved, the type that loved to abuse and debase me, loved to fill the mouth
and sissy-pussy of a little faggot slut like me. How once I had those men,
how I just loved to suck and fuck them so that I could drink down gallons,
and massage in loads of their lovely jism in to every square inch my tanned
little sissy body.

I realized now that we were definitely being watched, somehow, and that I
was being forced to really play it up to my invisible audience.

As a parting shot Eric decided to make me act out my new name, or rather
the spoonerism of my name. He forced me to climb back down on to all fours,
and then to `moo’ like a Randy Cow, in-between telling him what a `sissy
ho’ I was.

>From somewhere, I found yet more shame. I found enough to make me blush to
my roots as I crawled around the filthy floor, my tits swinging wildly blow
me going, Moo! Come fuck this sissy whore, Moo! Moo! I love to suck hard
dick. Moo! Moo!”

Part 9. Video

Without giving me a chance to clean myself up a little, Eric dragged me
from the booth and back in to the storefront proper. I was amazed to see
nearly twenty men all standing around one of the large TV displays to one
side of the wall. My entrance caused a whooping great roar of approval, I
think it was this, coupled to my relief that my ordeal was over, that made
me smile at their cheer. Unfortunately it was immediately followed by hoots
of derision aimed at my appearance.

Sam grabbed my wrist and led me over to a mirror and I was horrified at the
site that met me. Bad enough to have been forced to get made-up, dressed
and coifed like a total slut, but this?

My reflection told a sordid tale.

My left eye was a disaster zone of a large congealed glob of Eric’s thick
jism, grungy mascara, and a thick black smear where my tears had carried
mascara like a river carried sludge. Two other snail trails of Eric’s sperm
where clearly visible in my bangs, and my lipstick was smeared all over my
mouth. Those, coupled to the dark semen stains on my skimpy top, were
enough to tell the tale by themselves.

But that wasn’t enough for Sam. “And look over here. You’re a regular film
star!”

And there, dazzlingly displayed on a crystal clear 32-inch color screen,
there displayed for the twenty disgusting perverts present, was I.

They had rewound the tape to the point where I took down the bib of my
dress for Eric’s approval, as my head bobbed furiously up and down in his
lap. The hidden microphone was positioned just right to hear my moans as I
apparently effortlessly slid his length up and down his shaft, yet Eric’s
directions were no more than vaguely heard muttering. My cries reached the
listener clearly as I heard myself tell “my baby” how much I enjoyed his
dick in my mouth. A remote control zoom had been used to zoom in on my
mouth and throat as Eric drove his bone down my throat. You could clearly
make out the profile of his tool as my throat and neck stretched to
accommodate its girth.

I was forced to stand there, practically dripping with Eric’s filthy
discharge, and watch and listen as I proved just what a cum drinking little
slut I was. Throughout all of the tape I watched there was never a hint
that I was being forced to commit any of these gross acts against my
will. Thanks to Eric’s, unheard onscreen, direction, and the fear of Sam’s
reprisals for bad behavior, I appeared to be a compliant and, God-forbid,
willing participant!

I had presented my tormentors with yet another ready-made tool for my
successful blackmail. I had dug myself still deeper in tot a seemingly
already bottomless pit. Worse still, they even had twenty witnesses to the
fact that I was smiling as I came out to meet my public. No jury in the
world would ever be convinced that I had been forced to participate against
my will, after all, I was supposed to be a man, capable of sticking up for
myself. No, I could almost hear them calling me the guilty one now; Their
lawyers would verbally twist my motive for my every action. Like Eric
forcing me to masturbate while facing the camera. I knew I was squirming
with shame, but to anyone lese, it could only be lust that made me gyrate
my hips onscreen, as I apparently willingly ran my gloved hand up and down
my little penis, my pink talons glistening with my saliva. I could just
see the jury staring intently at the screen, or me, as they watched me
squeezing and stroking myself until I was seen to ejaculate all over the
floor while moaning loudly.

Sam was twenty steps ahead of me, every step of the way. As I saw my
onscreen-self rubbing Eric’s sperm in to my pores, and heard myself telling
everyone how I `loved to dress up like a slut to attract men so I could
suck and fuck…’ It was just too much for me. I fainted.

Of course they just left me in a disgusting heap on the equally filthy
floor while they all made plans for the editing, copying and distribution
of my very first pornographic feature film.

Part 10. Homecoming:

I awoke slowly, and prayed that it had all been a terrible nightmare until
the realization that it was dark, and I was in the back seat of my parked
car… alone, made me realize it was indeed real life. But perhaps here was
an opportunity to run. I had long ago realized that I had to get away from
the brothers if I was to ever live a normal life again. Hoping against hope
that they had nipped out from the car thinking I was out cold for the
count, I slowly raised my head above the front seats.

I was home. I was in my car, parked on my drive… and as far as I could
see, I was alone.

Gingerly, I opened the car door and climbed slowly out. The cool night air
on my near naked and denuded legs reminded me of my poor state of
undress. My breasts were still swinging free from the minor confinement of
the maid’s dress I still wore, I hastily tucked them back in, unthinking of
the fact that I was acting in a most feminine way. Not bothering with any
more details of my ridiculous clothing, but quickly checking my car for
keys – no luck, I quickly jiggled my way to my front door.

I turned the doorknob slowly, and entered my own house as quietly as a
church mouse. What had mere hours ago represented my personal sanctuary,
now seemed a place where further degradation could easily take place.

All appeared to be OK, I could here no body else in the house, and so
slowly slipped in to my hall and locked the door behind me. The front room
was entirely dark, but that was OK as I planned to head directly to my
bathroom to try and wash away the shame, humiliation and filth, the past
day had bought me. I was totally unprepared for the infernal racket made by
me unwittingly tripping an unseen wire attached to four saucepans on the
nearby dining room table. In a futile attempt to lessen the cacophony of
pans, I dived to the floor in a most unlady like manner.

Just then Sam switched the light on. I was caught like a deer in a car
headlight, as I lay sprawled on my floor.

“Well, well. Look what the cats dragged in! Back from a night of whoring
your way around town are you? Do you know it’s gone three in the morning?”

“No. No, I… I mean Candy has been sleeping in the car… sorry…” I
stammered in some type of unjustified defense. “Sorry Master Sam, Candy’s
sorry for waking you…” What did he want from me?

“A likely story. We cam home and watched your video again. We’ve seen just
how you love to suck cocks and cover yourself with jism. Eric said you’re a
natural born cocksucker.

“Get yourself in the shower, then hurry up and get your pretty little sissy
ass in to your bedroom. I’ll be waiting in there. Oh and be sure to put
your butt-plug back in, there’s a big new tube of KY in the drawer.”

I cried for nearly half an hour. Great big racking sobs as I grew to
realize that his had not been a one-day ordeal. Sam fully intended to keep
up my degradation for as long as it amused him. Only then would he let me
be.

Eventually Sam hammered on the door and told me to “quit your whinging and
whining in there or I’ll really give you good reason to cry.”

I did my best to pull my shattered nervous system back in to some type of
order. I peeled off the cum-encrusted dress, apron and head gear. Removed
my injurious heels, slipped out of my stockings and garter belt and
unbuttoned the gloves thick with Eric’s cum and the filth from the booth
floor. I climbed in to the shower and surrendered myself to the blissful
massage of the hot water.

As I toweled myself dry, I inspected the job Eric had done in attaching my
pendulous silicone breasts. It was a fantastic job, there was no trace of a
seam at their edge, and no amount of my pulling them would budge then a
fraction of an inch. A look in the mirror confirmed that I had gotten the
worse of the days ravages from my face. I used some gentle hand lotion to
remove the remainder of Abigail and Eric’s ministrations from my eyes and
lips. Other than the shimmering mass of platinum tresses I was now having
to blow dry, and an enormous pair of very real looking breasts, I looked
almost normal. How long would it take Sam to correct that?

After tending to my new big hairstyle, I used antiseptic to clean my six
ear studs, then painfully slipped the newly washed and lubricated latex
dick of a plug back up my already severely distended sphincter as
instructed.

I eventually entered `my’ bedroom in a most ladylike manner, with one arm
held crossed across my spectacular cleavage, the other over my hairless
genitals.

Sam looked up from my bed where he was lying, still fully dressed, reading
a catalog and laughed as I sheepishly entered the room. “Oh look at you
Miss Candy. Don’t you look a pathetic site? Still after today, you’re going
to be a star to a whole new kind of pervert. Yes Siree, after your
performance today, you are gonna have the sicko’s and the weirdo’s coming
at you from all directions. But don’t you worry Miss Candy, we’ll look
after you, and we’ll make sure you give your public what they demand!

We’re going to make us a whole load of films of you sucking dick and
getting royally fucked up your ass. You realize we’re going to make you a
full-blown porno star Miss Candy. Aren’t you a lucky little sissy? Aren’t
you so lucky to have Jim and I looking out for your faggot interests?”

I could only hang my head in shame as I answered him “Yes Master Sam, Candy
is such a lucky little sissy to have strong Master Sam and Jim looking out
for her. Candy’s such a lucky little faggot. Thank you Master Sam.”

“There now Candy” he softened his sneer, “come on over here and see what
Master Sam has for you to wear.”

With much dread I moved in to the room so as to see what he was pointing
at. I recognized the baby doll nightie from when I had modeled it in the
store for Vivica and them. It was the miniscule little diaphanous number,
fabricated from the most translucent powder blue nylon, edged with fluffy
pink synthetic fur. It came with matching, equally transparent, G-string
panties.

I demurely slipped on the filmy nightie, its pink fur hem stopped just at
my hips, with my tightly clad little penis and balls clearly visible in the
silky confines of the light blue panties.

Sam beckoned me over to join him on the bed. I moved nervously, partly from
fear of setting him off in to one of his rages and partly from
ordinary… I don’t know, but they were like `first time’ nerves. “Come
over here sweet Miss Candy, come end join Master Sam on his bed.” I noticed
the beds change of ownership but said nothing as I teetered atop my mule
slipper to join him in bed.

“I think it’s time you showed me, your Master Sam, exactly how good a
little cock sucker you are? Would you like that Candy?

Would you like to please me by sucking my dick until I come in your mouth?”
he said as he lay aside the `Frederick’s of Hollywood’ catalog he’d been
reading.

As I climbed on to the bed, feeling the fur lined hem slide further up over
my derriere as I did so, I again told him what he wanted to hear. “Oh yes
please Master Sam, please let Candy give you a great blow job, just like
she did for Eric. Please let Candy take you in her mouth and let you shoot
your delicious sperms in to my open mouth. Please.”

“OK. Since you asked me so nicely.” He laughed, “I’ll do you the honor of
letting you suck my dick. But only after you go in to the bathroom and
apply some nice thick lipstick. They’re all in the left hand drawer.”

I obediently returned to the bathroom and checked the drawer he’d
mentioned. Sure enough, there were all the cosmetics I’d bought from
Abigail. I grabbed the nearest lipstick; a shocking pink number I read was
entitled `Lust.’ I snorted at the lack of irony. I carefully applied the
lipstick as I had earlier been lectured. The result was a vivid gash. I
looked every piece the two-bit whore Sam was making me.

I returned to the bedroom and once again found myself crawling forward to
be `permitted the honor’ of sucking another mans cock. Sam was not in to
helping me at all; he just lay there and made me climb up to him to fumble
with his jeans buttons with my hideously pornographic long pink nails. Once
I had eventually peeled them back, I then had to slowly pry around to find
the opening in his white boxer shorts. Once access had been gained, I
gently, almost involuntarily tenderly, lifted the sleeping monster from
within. It wasn’t sleeping for long! As soon as I got my pink talons around
it, it literally reared its ugly head. It practically leapt in my hand.

“See” laughed Sam, “it’s happy to see you!”

I actually giggled at the ridiculous nature of this comment. I for one was
most definitely not happy to see it!

Following the recipe that had worked so well with Eric, I proceeded to
slowly lower my head until my mouth was directly over his glans. I was so
close that I couldn’t quite focus on the glistening jewel of pre-cum that
was weeping from the monsters single eye.

Sam was big.

His erection had grown at an alarming rate.

It was now closing on seven plus inches as fighting my revulsion I softly
planted my first lipstick smudge kiss on his silken glans. As I closed my
eyes in complete shame I slipped my tongue out and let it slide around the
base of his helmet. Sam let out a long sigh as I bought my tongue ever so
slowly over a sensitive part. Mentally I girded my loins as I slowly
slipped my hot mouth over his tip, my breasts shifting forward in the silky
confinement of my baby-doll nightie as I leant forward to accommodate his
length in my mouth.

Sam loved it, but I was loathing every second of it. Swallowing in disgust
and preparation, I kept telling myself, over and over and over again,
`You’re doing the right thing. It’s the only way.’ I slipped his now
eight-inch plus dick into my mouth and eased it down my throat until my
nose was buried in his musty pubic hair.

“Damned girl! Eric was right, you are good. Damned good.”

I realized with horror that some deep part of me was actually relishing his
praise. Had my self-esteem already sunk so low that someone could force me
to perform such a vile act, totally against my will, and his telling me
what a good job I was doing would somehow make some sick part of me happy?
Had I really sunk that low so quickly?

Apparently so, for as I commenced sliding his tool in and out of, and up
and down my stretched throat, his moans, gasps, and sighs did make me feel
good. I felt the weakest urge to please him. Some part of me had betrayed
me, betrayed me badly, for I now felt that in some way he was my Master. As
I worked my lips all over his penis, scrotum and even dangerously close to
his ass the feelings of revulsion where in no way lessened. I still had to
force myself to repeatedly deep throat him, to caress his repulsive
testicles, but somehow the will to fight was diminished. I in no way, shape
or form condoned or in any wanted this new vile role I was forced to play,
but in some weird way I knew it was my dues.

Sam was quite possibly aware of this subtle shift in our relationship. I
can easily believe that he set out with this goal in mind from the very
start, such was the depth of his depravity revealed. He just lay back, with
a self-satisfied smirk on his rugged face, as I went to work on his
erection. I noisily cooed and slurped up and down his dick. When it wasn’t
physically in my mouth, lies about how happy I was to be `feasting’ on his
`massive manhood’. At last, I felt his muscles tense as his orgasm
approached. He grabbed two large handfuls of my hair and forced my mouth
all the way down until my lips were crushed against his pelvis and his
coarse pubic hair was forced up my nose. I had to force my eyes wide open
in a valiant attempt not to sneeze. Luckily, as he started to release his
load deep in my throat his grip on my head relaxed and I was able to lift
my head a little. I was careful not to lift out too much so as to prevent
his steaming cum from oozing out the side of my bright pink mouth. Instead
I kept his crown buried half way down my still tight throat as I milked the
last of his jism from his still throbbing testicles.

“Man, that was amazing. Eric is right, you have a real talent for this
shit.” He reached down and slapped me, hard, on my scantily clad ass stuck
up high in the air beside him. “I think we got to capitalize on all your
talents bitch. I think we can peddle your ass for some good cash.”

I was permitted to sleep in my own bed. As long as I lay spooned closely up
against my Master, snuggled up with my hairless arm resting on his hip and
my manicured hand stuck down the front of his boxers as I lay there gently
caressing his penis and balls.

Just as I was slipping in to a nightmare filled c***, Sam dropped two final
bombshells on my battered psyche. “Oh by the way, I promised Jim he could
pop your cherry tomorrow. And you’ve just made another chapter in the Candy
Row video series, I taped your wonderful performance just now.”

Part 11. A New Day:

I alone awoke with sunlight streaming through my d****s. A new day had
arrived. I immediately remembered my current predicament, and strained my
ears through the silence of my house for signs of life. I could detect
none.

I climbed from between the pink satin sheets, feeling them to be debased
after last nights-forced performance. My new breasts caught me by surprise
as they shifted suddenly as I stood, they strained the gauzy nylon of my
baby doll nightie before settling down to a rhythmic sway as I walked to my
bathroom.

I was alone. A note taped to the bathroom mirror confirmed as much. It
read”

`Dear Candy.

Thank you for such a fun filled day yesterday. We have gone out to make
some arrangements, but will be back later.

Please be sure to shave all over, be dressed in the clothes and things laid
out for you on the spare bed, and wearing full `battle dress’ make up. Go
to the store to fetch the items on the list in the kitchen, and be on all
fours by your front door when we return. Or else…

Just in case you think of trying anything stupid, just know that you will
be watched at all times.

Love,

Masters Sam & Jim’

There was no time, and I had no idea what the time was now. I hurried back
to my bedroom, my unsupported breasts bouncing wildly around so badly I had
to restrain them with my hands. The clock on my nightstand said 10:27. But
I still had no idea when they had left. I decided to hurry up and get ready
for their imminent return.

I tore off my baby doll and panties, eased the plug from my now
well-stretched butt, and leapt in to the shower. I carefully shaved and
quickly washed myself all over, paying particular attention to any areas I
felt particularly violated, such as my mouth and ass. God! My ass! Sam had
promised Jim he could fuck me up my ass today! Still, no time to worry
about that now, I had more pressing concerns.

I darted in to my spare bedroom and stopped dead in my tracks.

Laid out on the bed was every pervert’s dream of what a sexy little
schoolgirl should wear. The uniform comprised of a white starched cotton
blouse, visibly a size or two too small for my new breasts, a blue pleated
mini-skirt, and white ankle socks, complete with pink trim. The underwear
was not standard school issue. It comprised of a matching set of shiny
fluorescent lime green panties and demi bra, both trimmed with frilly
yellow lace. Shoes were provided in the shape of my three inch heeled black
patent leather Mary Jane’s, with large gold buckles. A large pink bow was
for under my collar, and two matching smaller ribbons were, I guessed, for
my hair.

Realizing I was wasting time by standing there gawking, I quickly moved to
put on the costume. I slipped easily in to the panties, being careful to
pull back my dick and balls in to the cotton gusset, and managed to load my
impressive twin set in to the inadequate cups of the bra. There would be a
very real danger of my spilling out today. I struggled in to the stiff
white and slightly transparent blouse. It was as I’d guessed earlier, too
small and I struggled to do up the buttons. My work was made easier by the
fact that some kind sole, Sam I guessed, has cut off the top three buttons,
I was only able to do up the front so far as to barely cover my nipples, my
breast tops were clearly displayed. Even so, the danger of spillage was a
little relieved.

I slipped on the skirt, noticing how if I turned around quickly the hem
flew up to reveal my charms hidden beneath. Thankfully, the white socks
were standard issue. I bent to pick up the shoes, and barely managed to
catch my silicone monsters as they fell out of my bra and blouse. I stuffed
them back in, then picked the shoes up by bending my knees. Once they were
on, I slipped the neck bow over my head, carefully positioning it with the
large flouncey bow in front, directly below my cleavage. It took me several
goes to get the pig tails right. My shoulder length hair, now resplendent
with its platinum curls would not cooperate with my inexperienced hands, my
half-inch pornographic nails not helping.

I took the cosmetics Sam had left out on the dresser with me in to the
bathroom. A pale base hid any evidence of my originally sparse facial hair
and a light pink blush gave me the desired girlish complexion. My eyes were
another story. Sam had left out another set of false eyelashes, not as big
as yesterdays, but definitely conspicuous, especially when coated with the
glutinous black mascara. Prior to fitting them over my already dark lashes,
I used a black kohl pencil to encircle my eyes, and finished them off with
the three different eyeshadow I had been left.

My lips I did as Abigail had lectured me. I used the dark red lipliner, and
then filled in over my lips with the creamy pale pink lipstick.

I gave myself a liberal dousing with the cheap smelling perfume provided,
and I put on the minimal jewelry Sam had left out, my ears were left
adorned with the six simple gold studs. Three bracelets jangled loudly on
each wrist, and my mothers old gold crucifix on a simple gold chain around
my neck, hanging deep in my cloyingly perfumed cleavage.

I was ready for my dreaded trip to my local store, another place I was well
known. Stopping to look in the mirror, I saw exactly what I had dreaded I’d
see: A sleazy looking slut dressed as a schoolgirl.

My boobs continued their incessant jiggling as I walked down the stairs,
adopting the preferred rhythmic sway of my hips that appeared to make me
unmistakably cry out to be fucked. I choked back a sob as I realized that,
but then quickly remembered that even now I could be being watched. After
all, Sam had apparently hooked up a camera in my bedroom last night. Lord
knows while I was passed out in the car how long they had here? What time
were we in the porn shop?

I had no idea. So reasoned it was far better to live by their rules than
face their punishment.

I forced my head up and my shoulders back and continued my lurid ass
shaking, tit swinging way down my stairs.

I located the list in the kitchen and was not overly surprised to see that
it included: Two dozen condoms (each to be a different type or style). Two
large cucumbers (make sure they are the biggest they have – ask if you have
to!), an eggplant, two dozen eggs, four cans of whipped cream, two bottles
of Hershey’s chocolate sauce covered the foodstuffs.

Assorted other items included: a box of large tampons, a pack of adult
incontinence diapers, a list of baby products, twelve D size and
twenty-four AA batteries, a length of clothes line, five packets of
clothespins. Also a tube of super-glue, a pack of rubber bands, a leash and
matching dog collar for me – red with rhinestones and a tag reading: “Candy
Row Sissy Slut Sex Slave Tel (626) 555-3898”) There was a final note
telling me to start my shopping at the local Wal-Mart and get `the other
stuff’ to feed three to five people for the next few nights, and to be sure
to ask five separate clerks for help. I was also ordered to make absolutely
certain I engaged anybody I recognized in conversation, and was to ask at
least four different men if they thought I was pretty, and to be polite to
anyone who wanted to speak, or do anything else, to me. It also mentioned
`being free with my cards’?

Realizing I had no alternative, I stuffed the two pieces of provided gum in
my pink lipped mouth and headed for my front door only to find another
little indignity awaiting me there.

A brown leather school satchel. I picked it up and found it to be heavy. I
sling it over my shoulder, threading the thick leather strap between my
breast, and open it to inspect the mysterious contents.

I groan inwardly as I see it is packed with the two vibrators I bought
yesterday, A phallic butt plug, a tube of KY Jelly, several lollipops, a
pack of `Bubblicious’ bubble gum, and a small purse. I opened the purse to
find my credit card, my ID and a pack of home printed business cards, now I
see! The cards comprise of some disgusting text, and a slightly blurry
image of me, sucking some unseen mans dick (but I know it’s Eric from our
session yesterday), as he ejaculates in my face – tasteful.

~ Candy Row ~ Super Slutty Sissy Slave
I’m at your service and no act is too demeaning Call me, 24 hrs a day, 7
days a week:
Tel: (626) 555 3988

As I attempt to get all `my worldly goods’ back in to the satchel I note
that the zipper has been tampered with, making it impossible for me to
close it to prying eyes. Oh well.

I search all over for my car keys, before finally noticing that my car is
gone from my driveway. I will have to walk to Wall Mart, a good three
quarter of a mile away.

As I leave my house, the mailman immediately accosts me as he stops by to
deliver my mail. I can see he doesn’t recognize me, as he studies the
deliciously clad vixen chewing gum in front of him.

“Oh, Hello Miss. I’m Dave, Alan’s mailman. And who might you be?”

Fuck, what am I to do, I decide to do as I have been told. “Yes Hello
Dave. It’s me, Alan. I have decided to fulfill my fantasies and live out my
life as a little sissy slave. I”m now called Candy Row, here…” I say as
I reach around in my bag, giving Dave AN eyeful of the big black vibrator
that pops its `head’ out the top of my bag. Blushing furiously, I push it
back down and retrieve my purse and produce one of my lovely new cards for
him, “Ah, here you go, here’s one of my new cards.”

He studied the card, then studies the card again, dumbstruck. “Are you for
real?” he finally stutters.

Damn, I wanted this to be brief. “Why, of course I am sugar” I reply in a
voice that I know Sam would approve of.

“I mean” he continues to stutter, “Is it true what it says on this card?”

Unable to help dropping my head in shame I reply, “Yes, yes it is. There’s
no act I consider too demeaning for me to perform. Especially if it would
make you happy…” I tail off, sure I’ve already said far too much.

“Well then.” He’s still not too sure what to say.

“OK great” I reply, “Look, I have to go get some shopping…” he catches my
drift and moves to continue up the path to my front door.

“Well then, I think I’ll have a kiss and a quick feel of your boobs then!”
With that he dumps his bag and grabs me around the waist. Before I can
think of a complaint, he has forced his foul tobacco flavored tongue deep
in to my mouth. Fighting off my natural revulsion, I do as the good little
sissy slave I am being trained to do should. I yield to him. I let him
slide his foul tongue around inside my mouth and down my throat, while his
hands grope my unfeeling latex breasts. He holds me in this manner for over
a minute, then throws me away from him so that I fall, hard, on my ass.

Without a thought for my well being he grabs his bag and caries on about
his job. As he passes me on the way back down my drive he throws a quick
comment at me. “I’ll be calling you soon then you fucking sissy.”

Aghast at the continuous dreadful turns my life keeps taking, I pick myself
up and dust the worst of the dirt from my clothes. One of my breasts is
completely out of my blouse and brassier, and bears Dave’s grubby finger
prints from his rough squeezing. I tuck it back in to my too small brassier
and after waiting to make sure Dave has moved on, I continue out my
driveway on to the street.

No sooner than I turn the corner, than I am greeted by my neighbor,
Mr. Morris, who sneers at me “You disgusting pervert. You’re a fucking
fairy, a faggot. In my day we would have run you and your kind out of
town. Give me one of those cards you filthy cocksucker. I saw what you did
for the mailman, maybe me and my friends can use you!” he laughs evilly as
I am once again forced to fumble in my satchel. This time the butt plug
falls out, causing further hilarity for the evil Mr. Morris.

“You just wait until the next neighborhood watch meeting,” he leers, “I’ll
make sure everyone knows exactly what kind of degenerate you are.” Oh
great, now the whole street will know of my new status.

I quickly teeter my way down the street, my ass and tits swinging
furiously, away from my vile neighbor and revolting mailman.

My luck does not improve as on the way to Wall Mart I am accosted six
times. Twice by women disgusted by my sluttish appearance, and four times
by men attracted by my scanty costume, I give away three more cards and
remember to ask one of the men if he thinks I’m pretty. His answer, though
disgusting, appears to confirm he does.

Part 12. Wall Mart:

I push a large cart around Wall Mart and collect everything on the
list. Halfway through my shopping trip, it dawns on me that there is no way
on earth I can carry all this shopping home by myself. I am going to have
to make at least two trips!

I try to keep my eyes down turned each time I have to ask for assistance,
careful to maintain my approved English schoolgirl voice and
accent. “Excuse me Mister, can you tell Candy where I can find the pet
section?” I ask a young Hispanic k** in a Wal- Mart uniform.

He stops and looks me up and down carefully. “Yeah, well surely little
sister. Let me show you. Personal like.” He stops what he is doing and
leads me towards the back of the enormous store.

“What exactly are you looking for? He asks, reasonable enough.

“Candy needs to buy a pretty red collar and leash.” I reply, unthinking of
the consequences.

“Oh is Candy your dog?”

“Ummm, no… I’m Candy… it’s for me.” I quietly reply.

He stops and turns around to stare at me in a new light “No shit? You one
of those submissive types Seni¢rita?”

I again find myself staring intensely at the floor as I reply, “Yes, my
Master sent me to buy all manner of… humiliating things, including a red,
diamond studded, dog collar.”

His eyebrows rise at my confession. “Well come on then little sister, let’s
go get your shopping done!”

He gallantly waves me by him, the hand that he then attaches to my
be-skirted buttock is not so gallant. He proceeds to use his right hand,
glued firmly to my ass, to steer me through the store to the pets
department. “Here you go Miss Submissive, all the dog collars you could
ever need.”

I thank him, remembering to ask him if he thinks I’m pretty, and hope he’ll
leave me, but Rafael is enjoying himself. He proceeds to pick out collars
and then has me try them on in plain view. I draw a number of hostile
glares as I do so. We eventually find one that fits Sam’s description
perfectly, Rafael decides that I should keep it on as it looks so
good. What can I do?

Before I can stop him, Rafael grabs my list and studies it. He breaks out
in laughter when he reads what the tag is to say. He steers me over, this
time his hand is under my skirt, resting lightly on my vivid green pantied
fleshy bottom, to the pet tag engraver. He proceeds to enter the text,
reading it out in a loud voice for all to hear, and then shows me the
finished tag.

It is a large red aluminum love heart with my name, new occupation, and
telephone number (I see Rafael has already noted it) engraved in silver
text. Rafael gently fits it to the ring in my new collar, adding a little
silver bell, and we’re off for the next item on the list, his hand again
hot on my cool flesh, and my new tags jingling noisily at my throat.

We must have looked a weird sight. Me, jiggling along in my revealing
little schoolgirl’s outfit, my grubby boobs barely staying in my still
white blouse, and a cat collar jangling noisily around my neck, and Rafael
with his hand on my butt, his fingers now working their way under the lacey
edge of my panties. I was beginning to sweat, what would he do when he
found all was not as it appeared down there’?

We moved from aisle to aisle picking up clothespins and rope, rubber
bands, and Super Glue. Rafael got a real kick out of the adult diapers, he
forced me to also get a set of pink rubber panties, with “sweet little
duckies” on them, though I was sure they would be way too small for me.

He also loved helping me pick out the condoms, loudly commenting, “Here you
go Miss, these babies are extra large and ribbed!” or “How about these,
they’ve got an end on them just like a babies hand.” And “Oh you have to
have these as well, they glow in the dark. Ideal for a little night time
nookie, don’t you think Miss?”

As he intended, I was mortified, especially by the smiles of the inevitable
gaggle spectators who paused to stare and laugh as they walked by, their
wanton smiles told me exactly what they would like to do with
me. Surprisingly, I wasn’t very keen to do it with this bunch of degenerate
shoppers.

As we moved through the food department, picking up the necessary articles
towards the checkout, Rafael’s probing fingers reached my plug stretched
anus. “Whooee! What do you have here Miss?”

I decided this had gone on far enough. “Look, thank you for your help, but
I really have to get going…” My words were cut off as Rafael started to
twist and wriggle the plug in my poor ass. I started to squirm with the
discomfort he was causing me, he totally mistook my reaction, but it lead
him too a conclusion. “Oh you like that, don’t you Miss? You like it when I
slide it in and out so slowly. You like it so much that perhaps you got
yourself a little prostrate action going? Rafael may be a little slow on
the uptake, but I’m thinking that maybe you got a little pee-pee down there
too? Is that right `Miss’? Do you got a little pee-pee clit?”

God! Did he have to talk so loud? Several people were now hanging around
near us, trying to look really interested in the shelves contents, as they
listened in to my interrogation.

“Yes” I whispered.

“I’m sorry, I’m a little deaf, you’re going to have to speak up a bit.” He
laughingly replied.

“Yes.” I replied again, this time loud enough to satisfy the spectators who
now looked at me with disgust.

Rafael was not satisfied that he’d just wrung a very painful truth from
me. “Yes, what?”

What did he want, I had no alternative but to try and cover all the
bases. “Yes Master Rafael, Candy, that’s me, is really a boy. Candy is
really a big sissy dressed as a sexy schoolgirl.”

“Well why would you want to go and do that?” Fair enough question, but I
hated having to answer him. “Because Candy wants to attract plenty of
men.”

He paused.

“Why?”

Now I knew he was in on it. He must be some pal of Sam or Jim’s. The
bastards. Dropping my head in shame I replied as evenly as I could manage,
“So that Candy can suck and fuck them.”

“Pardon Miss… Or is it Mister? I don’t think I heard you right, did you
say `so that you can suck and fuck them’?” The crowd was enjoying my
complete humiliation immensely. “Yes I… Yes, Candy did” I answered.

“Well I can sure see how you could pleasure all these men with those pretty
little pink lips of yours, but fuck them? How’d you do that”? He replied
while watching me closely, grinning as I squirmed before him. He knew, I
knew he was in-cahoots with Sam.

“In Candy’s ass, in her boy-pussy.”

“Oh I see, is that why you have this butt plug stuffed up your… boy
pussy?” he laughed. “Tell why it’s there.”

Damn his eyes! “To help stretch Candy’s boy-pussy so she can take big dicks
up it. Silly.” That last part was my own addition as I tried to perhaps
hide behind the character I was being forced to play. The only way I could
see to hopefully contain this situation before it got totally out of hand,
was to play along. Make them think that I was a willing participant. My
reasoning? I think that obvious victims are more likely to be victimized
further, where as a willing participant would, again hopefully, have some
say in their action and participation.

Rafael was about to turn that theory completely about face. “Do you like
sucking and fucking Candy?”

Dropping deeper in to the little schoolgirl slut persona I replied “Yes
Master Rafael, Candy likes to suck dick, but she’s still a virgin in her
boy-pussy. Master Sam says Master Jim is going to `pop Candy’s cherry’
today.”

“Well isn’t that special. How about you come out back and show Rafael” and
then he terrified me by pointing to the hungry looking spectators, ” and a
few of my friends here, just how much you like to suck our dicks then?”

No! This couldn’t be happening to me, here? Not in a public store during
business hours? Please… no…

Rafael kept looking expectantly at me, as if his glaring would make my
decision any easier.

“Well…” I started to say, when he interrupted me.

“Go on Candy ” he reached for my tags, I shied away from his touch which
made him smile a thin cruel smile that told me it was going to happen
whether I wanted it or not. And I definitely didn’t. He read from the red
love heart hanging from my red diamond doggy collar, “Surely a `super
slutty sissy slave’ for whom `no act is too degrading’, surely a little
slut dressed like you would just love to come on back to the store room and
suck all our cocks. Think of all that lovely spunk!”

I was trapped again, my earlier act of eager participant had now painted me
well and truly in to a corner. I had no way out other than to agree to
further degrading humiliation.

“OK.” I drew in a deep breath, forced myself to smile and decided to get it
all over with. “Yes please Master Rafael, I would love to come back with
you and suck all your lovely hard cocks.”

“That’s the spirit Candy, now let’s go get you comfortable. I’ve an idea
you’re in for a long morning!” he laughed, once again placing his hand on
my defenseless derriere, this time flipping my little skirt up over my
bottom. This gave those following an unimpeded view of my panty clad
buttocks, and affording Rafael greater access to the butt plug, still
jutting from my anus, which he now used like some kind of joystick as he
steered me back through the large and crowded store.

We moved, a strange procession with me, my pantied ass clearly showing,
pushing my overflowing cart in front of me, down a long corridor and out
through a plastic hang curtain and in to the massive storeroom behind.

As soon as we hit the employees break room, Rafael was on me, and my
shopping discarded in one corner. Immediately Rafael (`call me Rafi’)
grabbed one of my beribboned pigtails and pulled my mouth over his. He
positioned my arms over his shoulders and roughly persuaded me to hug him
back. Once I did this, it left both his hands free to grope and m***** my
body at will.

His hand were all over me and in a matter of seconds I felt my blouse being
ripped open, no attempt was made to undo the buttons. Instead it was worked
roughly over my shoulders and used to pin my arms securely at my sides, and
to push my shoulder back to make me push my distended breasts further out.

As Rafael’s hands squeezed and kneaded my silicone spectaculars, a process
quite painful to me as the adhesive pulled hard on my natural chest below,
I felt another pair of hands forcing my skirt down over my hips. In under a
minute I was standing there dressed only in my Mary Jane shoes,
ankle-socks, panties and bra.

There now appeared to be at least four pairs of hands roaming all over my
body, squeezing my breasts and buttocks, slipping one, two or even three
fingers between my pink lips, sliding up and down my legs and smooth tummy
and back. I felt my bra and panties soon go the way of my other
clothing. Despite my abhorrence at what I was being made to do, I was
disgusted to find myself feeling aroused, a fact others were not long to
notice also.

“Hey look at it’s tiny pecker, I think it’s enjoying itself’ cried one man
of at least sixty years age just before he removed one shoe and sock and
started to suck upon my painted toes, noisily. “Do you like it sweet
Candy, do you like the prospect of sucking our…” he looked around the
break room, “Do you like the idea of sucking seven hard cocks? Do you like
the feel of all these masculine hands caressing your sissy slut body, do
you like it Candy? Cooed Rafi.

Not fair, that was tow questions, but his look told me what my answer was
to be. “Oh yes Master Rafi, Candy loves the feel of all these muscular
hands all over her girly body, and she loves the thought of all those hard
cocks she can suck on. Oh yes Candy loves it.”

“Good little sissy faggot.” He laughed, before continuing “OK then since
you are such a good little sissy, you can suck my dick.”

With that he unzipped his fly and pulled out his penis. It was big! Even
limp it weighed in at a whopping ten inched in length and a good five
inches in circumference. As I stared up at it in awe, I realized that my
manicured hand had reached out of its own volition and was now encircling
the b**st before my eyes.

Even as the other twelve hands continued to grope me, reaching down to
force the butt plug in and out of my now distended rear, I couldn’t take my
eyes of Rafi’s monster cock.

“Oh, I see you like what you see young Miss Candy. Go on then, you can
touch, but real gentle with it, cause it bites!” he laughed at his own
joke. But I was lost in some far off place, all I could see was Rafi’s
enormous penis twitching in my hand. I was lost to all else, I never
noticed one of the spectators produce a disposable 35mm film camera and
start snapping away, nor did I see the others rummaging through the
contents of `my’ satchel.

Following Rafi’s inevitable instructions, I reached out and took his
monster dick in both hands as it slowly pumped to its full, turgid,
length. It was too big for my little hands, its head poked up two inches
above my two handed grip, and I could not encircle my hands around it, such
was its girth.

As Rafi grabbed a pigtail and forced my head down towards his cock, I
snapped back in to reality. At that same moment, someone quickly yanked out
my butt plug with a resounding `Pop!’ I opened my mouth to scream, and Rafi
chose that moment to impale my mouth on his monster’s head.

With one vicious thrust he was clear halfway down my throat. I threw my
hands to his hips, hoping to persuade him to ease off, but just at that
moment someone started to work the enormous vibrator up my defenseless, and
only recently vacated, anus.

I screamed again, allowing Rafi ample opportunity to ram the rest of his
length down my throat. I was truly skewered, held between Rafi’s giant cock
sliding in and out of my mouth, my lipstick already smeared all over my
face, and the giant black latex vibrator, purring a slow rhythm up my well
and truly violated ass.

They forced me to squat, Rafi’s dick still violating my mouth and throat as
it forced its way down my too tight larynx. As I shifted back on my
haunches to keep my balance, I forced the damned vibrator further up my
ass. My squeal of displeasure was lost on Rafi’s meat monster.

My peripheral vision showed more dicks waiting for their chance at my
mouth. I felt Rafael’s pace speed up and the next thing I know, he was
soaking my tonsils and beyond with his hot cum. The second he withdrew, a
fresh dick was pushed in my mouth and slid down my cum lubricated
throat. Rafi or one of the others would bark a command for me to follow,
“Bounce up and down on your ass to push your dildo in deeper, you pervert.”
Or ” Lie down on your back and play with those enormous tits of yours”.

And so it went on for close to two hours, I had no idea how many dicks I
sucked that morning, I would have to guess it was in the order of twelve,
though whether some were second timers, or each one a `newby’, I had no
idea. Of course I knew the name of every one of them after Rafi suggested
they all sign their names over my breasts. So I had to lie still while each
man took his turn to use the blue fiber-tip pen and write some witticism,
before signing somewhere on my torpedo like, and now cum- covered, breasts.
Finally, I was left alone on the filthy floor, bathed in a combination of
sweat, dirt, saliva, and, predominantly, cum. I managed to climb to my
feet, eased the giant vibrator from my ass, obediently replacing the
slightly smaller plug, and set about trying to find my clothes.

My blouse was easy to find, trouble was, it had been used as a rag to clean
up the men’s’ penises. It was soaked to the point of being almost
transparent. I wasted a futile few minutes trying to locate my bra before
wrapping myself in my blouse as best I could with only one button
remaining. My graffiti covered breasts were plentifully displayed for all
to see.

I found my panties, also cum covered and worked them coldly up my long legs
before slipping my skirt, now torn open to the waistband, back on,
collecting my shopping, I made my way back in to the store.

The looks I received were a combination of humor from those involved in my
defilement, and utter disgust from the other shoppers. There was no way on
earth I was coming back here today, so I decided to leave with the cart and
make my way home.

Out in the daylight, my cum drenched blouse was totally transparent. My
unfettered breasts were totally revealed with the bright blue graffiti
clearly eligible and my latex nipples protruding almost proudly through the
thin material. Perched upon my four inch heels I jiggled my way home,
trying to ignore the car horns, wolf whistles and obscene comments that
accompanied my every step.

Part 13 Art:

As I finally made it back to my house I was horrified to see my car back on
my driveway. They were home. As I passed my jeep I was not too thrilled to
see it had been modified. It had been sprayed a very bright pink and both
doors had been removed, leaving the cabin open to the elements, worse, the
rear mounted spare tire now sported a matching pink cover proclaiming in
big turquoise letters ringed in dark blue: SLUT MOBILE My plain black seat
covers had been replaced with bright pink synthetic tiger skin. Ignoring
this latest liberty I hurried to get inside and face the music for my not
being in position, on all fours, when Sam and Jim returned, I knew there
would be trouble in store. As I entered the doorway Sam’s fierce look told
me I was not wrong.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“I’m sorry Master Sam, Candy got delayed at the store by Rafi and…” I
gestured to my sorry state as way of an explanation.

“I don’t give a fuck what your story is, you were told to be here when we
got home and you failed. That means you must be punished, do you
understand?”

What choice did I have? “Yes Master. Candy is sorry…”

He interrupted me again. “What ever slut. Go and get cleaned up. No before
you do, let’s get a few pictures of you as you are, I’ll get your camera
while you go wait by the pool.”

And so I had to spend half an hour posing in all manner of degrading poses,
constantly adopting the obligatory `sexy smile’ while Sam snapped away,
ensuring he captured every nuance of my degradation. As a final insult he
made me wank off while he snapped close ups of my lust filled face as my
little weenie jetted a small amount of cum which I then proceeded to feed
into my abused mouth with my hideously long pink nails. Finally, I got to
suck Sam off while he triggered the camera with a remote control device. I
had lost track of the number of dicks I had been forced to suck today, but
knew Sam was not finished with me yet.

I was ordered to go shower and change in to the new outfit laid out on my
bed.

I scrubbed and scoured as best I could but could not erase the marker from
my breasts or the humiliation from my pores. Finally I felt I was as clean
as could be expected under the circumstances and moved to find the latest
pathetic costume I was to wear. It did not disappoint.

Continuing the role playing game, a nurse’s uniform lay on the bed. Not
proper nurses uniform of course, but a revealing little number with a
hemline way too high to be called decent. Sighing inwardly I donned the
white lingerie, comprising of white bra, panties, garter belt and
stockings. As I slipped into the too tight dress Sam entered the room to
demand more photographs for my burgeoning album of humiliation. My
nameplate described me as `Nurse Candy Cock Sucker’. With a stethoscope
around my neck and a paper nurse’s headdress in position I was once more
forced in to a variety of lewd and disgusting poses for the camera’s
all-seeing eye.

Teetering upon five inch heeled white stiletto’s I was led out to my newly
sprayed car.

As we drove along I fully appreciated his reasoning behind removing the
Wrangler’s doors. The hem of my dress was constantly lifted by the breeze,
and after being admonished by Sam, I was made to leave it alone, thus
providing motorists with an uninhibited view of my white stockings,
garters, thighs and long shapely legs.

We drove in to a rough area of town and parked outside a strip mall
containing a seedy looking bar and a tattoo shop. This did not look good.

Practically dragging me, Sam forced me in to the tattoo shop where an evil
looking guy in biker garb greeted him.

“Hi Sam, this the cock sucker you were telling me about?”

“Yeah Red, this `her’” he answered.

“Great then, let’s get started. You bought the artwork? And you still want
the full works?”

Sam smiled his evil grin at me as he answered “Yeah, definitely the full
works for Miss Candy here.”

Without any attempt at explaining what `the full works’ was I was forced in
to a dilapidated looking chair and Red quickly moved to tie my arms to the
chair arms, before tying my head to the tall chair back. I was held
immobile and could only look on in abject horror as Red moved his needle
gun to my face. For the next hour I cried very real tears as I felt first
my lips, then my cheeks and finally my eyes being subjected to a million
needle pricks. I had no doubt what was being done to me, Sam had arranged
for me to have permanent makeup applied. At last Red and Sam were
satisfied, but my horror did not end there as I was temporarily released,
only to be retied in the chair with my ass stuck way up in the air. Red
lifted the short hem of my skirt, pulled down my thong panties and
proceeded to copy some design of Sam’s on to my defenseless derriere.

Satisfied with his work there, he moved to my ankle and after unclipping
and removing my white seamed stocking, he proceeded to ring it with his
gun.

Finally I was released and led over to a mirror. Fresh tears flowed as I
stared in horror at my reflection. My face had now permanently been made to
look totally whorish.

Bright red outlined my lips in a hideous, supposedly sexy, pout, bright
pink rouge appeared to have been applied heavily to my cheek bones and my
eyes were lined with thick black lines. The effect around my eyes was the
most startling, the thick black lines, totally encircling my eyes and
ending at each end in a pronounced tick, making my blue eyes look really
promiscuous and enticing. Even without another drop of cosmetics my face
would forever look wanton and totally feminine.

Sam was keen to draw my attention to my left buttock, there for all the
world to see was a pretty good likeness of me proclaiming to everybody I
was a `Sissy Slut’ and would be happy `Fuck & Suck’. Worse, I noticed, the
nearly four inch round tattoo was positioned on the lower part of my
shapely buttock, so as to be visible when I wore anything other than a long
skirt or pants, two items I had little doubt I would never be allowed to
wear.

The final aberration was in the shape of a chain of handcuffs, dildo’s,
daises and roses circling my right ankle. Again, the unwritten message was
plain to read.

Sam thanked Red and barely gave me time to slip back in to my stocking,
shoes and panties before he dragged me out the door. I feared we would be
headed in to the nearby bar but instead we got back in to the car with me
drawing a few lewd comments as I struggled to climb up in to the high jeep
without flashing too much thigh and panties.

We were soon on our way to another appointment. This one turned out to be
to a small office in a medical plaza, the brass plate on the door
proclaiming it to be the offices of Dr. Leon Ngonge.

Dr. Leon, a large and powerfully built black man, was also a friend of
Sam’s and without a word in my direction proceeded to talk quietly with Sam
as to his exact requirements. He then turned to me, directed me to sit in
the comfortable leather backed chair and then started to quietly talk to me
in his soothing monotone. After the ravages of the day, I soon felt myself
slipping in to a deep sleep. I have no idea how long I slept, but I awoke
with a start to see Dr. Ngonge and Sam staring at me with slightly evil
smiles upon their faces. I hurriedly carried out a thorough inspection of
what the latest indignities I had been unwillingly subject to but could
find no evidence of any wrongdoing.

It was only when I spoke that I found the first thing wrong. My voice was
now soft and sultry, no matter how I tried to clear my voice, it
remained… well… wantonly sexy.

Not giving me time to fathom out how this had been done Sam told me it was
time to leave, but first I must pay the good doctor. Of course I had no
doubts as to exactly how this payment was to be made, and so almost
automatically slipped to my white stocking clad knees in front of
Dr. Ngonge.

Brushing my long blonde hair from my eyes, I had my first encounter with a
black penis. As I proceeded to slide the man’s large monster in and out of
my now experienced throat I was surprised to hear myself making all sort of
moans and groans of encouragement and lust. Anybody looking on would draw
the obvious conclusion that I was thoroughly enjoying taking this
disgusting nine-inch black penis in and out of my red lipstick coated
mouth. I fought with all my might to stop these involuntary sighs, whimpers
and cries of ecstasy, but could not stop them from laving my mouth. In fact
the nearer Dr. Ngonge got to his orgasm, the more excited my cries became
until I was practically screaming as he shot an enormous quantity of warm
and sickly jism down my throat and in to my mouth.

Anyone looking in would be convinced that I had experienced an earth
shattering orgasm at the same time as the good Doctor did!

I paused from cleaning the black monster to pose for Sam to snap yet
another humiliating photo before gently kissing the large purple helmet and
lovingly replacing it in the Doctor’s fly.

What was happening to me, I honestly felt that I was inside another person
with no control of their actions. This feeling was further heightened as we
left the office and I realized that I was walking like a total tramp. I was
all tits and ass as I sashayed my way out of the door and down to the
jeep. My hips were swinging lewdly as I delicately placed one stiletto foot
directly in front of the other, causing my breasts to swing lewdly as they
stained the front of my skimpy uniform. With no voluntary mental effort, I
pulled my shoulders fully back to ensure the silicone monstrosities
protruded as far as possible.

As we reached the car I happened to see a sign listing the various
residents of the offices and all became clearer for there in large letters
was a sign proclaiming: Dr. Leon Ngonge – Hypnother****t and Behavioral
Modification.

I had been hypnotized. Hypnotized to act and move like a wanton slut I
realized as I found myself obviously checking out a passing guy and even
smiling at him when he caught me doing so, and then horror of horrors I
licked my lips in a most sexually inviting manner.

The good Doctor and Sam were the only ones who knew what other horrors now
lay dormant in my psyche, but I was already well aware that I had been
transformed in to every mans dream version of a harlot. I now talked,
walked and worse of all acted like the slut Sam wanted me to be, any trace
of my original masculinity was fast vanishing.

Even as I climbed back in to the jeep further changes in my movement became
obvious. No longer did I try and hurry to minimize the exposure of my
bottom and bare thigh tops, instead I languidly slipped, with much feminine
grace in to my seat affording the one passerby a generous view of my newly
tattooed bottom and stocking tops. Sam could not wipe the grin from his
face as mine burned bright red with shame.

14 Dinner:

We returned home with me affording the early evening traffic an uninhibited
view as the breeze in the open cabin continually lifted my skimpy uniform’s
hemline. I was now powerless to prevent my dress from billowing up and
found myself returning the lust filled stares from the occupants of the
other traffic stalled cars as they greedily eyed my long white stocking
clad legs and exposed thighs.

At last we made it back to the relative safety of my home. Jim was waiting
for us and Sam was only to happy to make me demonstrate my new found
grace. I was made to walk up and down my driveway, clearly visible from the
street, my hips gyrating in the gait so favored by hookers the world
over. The exaggerated sway of my hips had my breasts straining the material
of my white brassier and starched uniform as they swung and bounced
indecently, thrust forward by my holding my shoulders back.

Sam revealed another new degradation when he threw the keys to my car on
the floor and ordered me to pick them up. Instead of modestly bending my
knees I found myself automatically keeping my legs stiff and bending down
from my hips, ensuring the hem of my uniform rode up to reveal my panties,
garters and worse, my new tattoo. Jim was doubled up laughing, “What else
does she do?” he cried through his tears.

Sam was not planning to reveal all the hidden commands to me in one go, so
replied to his brother, “Well let’s just say that we’ve planted a few
automatic responses to key words in young Candy’s brain.”

“Like what? What do you mean?” badgered Jim.

“Well when she hears certain words our Miss Candy will find herself obeying
specific imbedded instructions. The best part is the words are pretty
common and likely to crop up in regular conversation. So one minute she’ll
be chatting away and the next she’ll be overcome with an irresistible
desire to start removing her clothes. Or perhaps she’ll succumb to a
totally irresistible urge to suck someone’s cock, let them fuck her up the
ass, or just simply start wildly flirting with everyone in site!”

My jaw dropped at the implication of his words. He had programmed me so
that I would never be safe while in anyone’s company. If he was telling the
truth, and the evidence thus far gave me no reason to doubt him, any
conversation could turn me in to some sort of sex starved exhibitionist
bimbo.

“What else, what else?” laughed Jim.

“Well there’s the minor part of her being completely unable to reject any
advances. If any body, man or woman, starts even mildly flirting with sweet
Miss Candy she will find it impossible not to respond in kind.” Sam’s smile
was one hundred percent evil as he continued, “Then there’s her dress
sense, from now on Candy will just love to dress in the sexiest and
revealing clothes available. If you give her the choice of jeans and a
sweatshirt over some skimpy little hot pants suit or revealing skirt and
tube top, she will automatically choose the sexiest costume. Never anything
virginal or innocent, oh no, our little slut will always favor stockings
and garters over pantyhose, bright colored lingerie over white or plane
colors. She will always be sure that her bra is visible through, and color
clashes with, her top, skirts will always be as tight and short as
possible, as will every article of her clothing. If she is ever in any
doubt she will come and visit us rather than ever be seen in anything
unrevealing or non-sexy. Oh and she will always want to be made up like the
sexy little slut she now is. Come on, let’s test her”

His words chilled me to my bones as I realized this was how I would
apparently choose to dress and act from now on. To all intents and purposes
I would appear to be the slut he was transforming me into.

Unfazed by me visible reaction Sam continued as he led me back in to the
house “Yes our little sissy here will become a real clothes horse, spending
all her spare cash on sexy and revealing costumes so that she can please
her men and women.”

I was unable to hold back the tears any longer, “Why are you doing this to
Candy? Please… show some compassion…” I choked in my sexy new voice.

Sam turned on me in a rage. “I’ll tell you why, didn’t you ever stop to
think that we could hear you and your stuck up friends cavorting around in
your pool? We heard you refer to us as white trash scum, but I don’t
suppose you ever cared, you certainly didn’t show any compassion. Sure we
may not be as well off as you and your friends, but we still don’t like
having our noses ground in the dirt. Well now you get to find out what it’s
like to be real white trash! You see I don’t give a fuck what happens to
you. We’re gonna have some real fun letting all your so called friends see
what a little cock sucking bimbo you’ve become. We’re gonna have a real
hoot holding loads of degraded parties in your lovely house, with you
providing all the entertainment. We’re gonna spend all your cash setting
you up as a right little freak, a chick with a dick. I’m gonna personally
make you a star little Miss Candy. I’ve been speaking with a friend of mine
and he says there’s a whole load of money to be made from magazine pictures
and videos of a sick little submissive transsexual like we’re gonna make
you. You see we’re gonna get some powerful new hormones from a mutual
friend of ours and before very long you’re gonna have real tits, bigger
even than the plastic ones your sporting now!”

No! Please god no, the man was outlining a life of sick and disgusting
debauchery, a life where I would be forced in to mans foulest sewer as some
kind of sick freak.

We enter the house and Sam hands me my credit card, the phone and the
Frederick’s of Hollywood catalog he was reading last night. “Here you go,
why don’t you buy yourself some nice clothes. You can pick out five items,
anything you like, they have jeans, T-shirts and even men’s clothes. So go
ahead, order what you like.”

The moment of truth, is it true that I will pick out only the dirtiest
clothes, or can I salvage a little decency?

Twenty minutes later and I know he was speaking the truth. I have just
ordered an almost transparent pink `Marabou’ fur trimmed baby doll nightie
with matching bikini, a fake leather black miniskirt, a pair of bright red
patent leather thigh boots, a black corset with detachable garters and
shoulder straps, and a figure hugging blue mini-dress with a zipper all the
way down the front. Sam also had me order a pair of telephones covered in
more pink Marabou synthetic fur. Worse of all, I have just added another
$600 to my credit card bill.

Sam and Jim are besides themselves as they listen to me ordering the horrid
clothes, all the time talking in my sexiest voice, with my face showing
total dismay as I act against my own volition. This is getting really bad.

Satisfied that I am now realizing the total futility of trying to fight
them, Sam orders me in to my bedroom and tells me to pick out something
sexy for my evening with his brother. Again I try and fight my own actions,
and again I am defeated as I pick out a sexy little a****l print
mini-dress, with seamed black stockings and a bright yellow combination of
thong, shelf bra and garter belt. Dressed like the total slut I have now
become, I choose a pair of red patent six-inch `come-fuck-me pumps,
complete with gold ankle straps, before dousing myself in a liberal dose of
Coco and applying way too much makeup to my pretty face. The finished
result is one hot chick dressed in a total `come fuck me’ costume. As a
final reminder of the delights in store for me, Sam has me inset the
largest butt plug. I am amazed at how relatively easily it slides up my
distended bottom. Only yesterday, there was no way on earth it would even
begin top fit me.

Sam loads my purse with my ID and credit cards, a wad of my new `business’
cards, the large vibrator, four of the tampons I bought at Wal Mart
earlier, plus six condoms. I am forced to wear my new collar, complete with
tag and bell, and then have the new experience of having to wear earrings
in my newly pierced ears.

Sam has decided to ignore Monica’s advise and fits a large pair of four
inch diameter gold hoops through the lowest holes, a pair of small silver
bells through the next, and large fake diamond studs in the top holes. The
result is every movement of my head causes them all to jangle loudly
together. A total of ten bracelets complete my attire for my date with Jim,
I am ready.

As I study my reflection, I see that the hem of my dress barely covers my
stocking tops and my considerable cleavage atop the shelf bra is wantonly
displayed. The bright yellow bra straps are clearly visible below the black
spaghetti straps of my dress, and the heavy assortment of earrings pull
painfully on my ears.

Sam leads me teetering atop the ridiculous heels, yet still maintaining the
lurid gait out to the front room where Jim sits watching a copy of my video
while rubbing his erection. I am shocked to see he is only wearing jeans
and an old T-shirt as I had assumed he would also dress up for our date.

“You ready bro?” asks Sam.

Smiling as he studies his date for the evening he replies, “Oh yeah! This
is gonna be a blast man.” Somehow I doubt I will share that opinion.

“Well go to it then. Remember the phrase I told you to ensure the bitch
follows your every command?”

“Yeah, no sweat. Candy and I are going to have a real fun night. Don’t wait
up Sam.” Again I doubt I will find it much fun tonight.

We pose for a few photographs, with Jim pawing me all over as Sam snaps
away and I unknowingly adopt the obligatory sexy smile, then Sam gives me
the car keys and out the door we go.

Once again I endured the show I provided as the open cab allowed all others
to view my saucily displayed charms. Jim issued directions and I felt my
heart sink as we pulled in to the local bowling alley. Tonight was the
bowling league I belonged to. Yet again my situation had plummeted from
humiliating to down right unbearable as I realized I would be forced to
parade around in front of a horny bunch of guys, many of who new me
personally.

Joe was smirking as he made me go up to the front desk and reserve a time,
using my real name, ad requesting they call us when our lane was free as we
would be in the bar and dining room.

Following obediently behind Joe we made our way in to the bar. “Tell me who
you know in here.” Whispered Joe. Knowing I had no choice, I pointed out a
group of six men clustered around a large table.

“Well let’s go and say Hi to them shall we?” he laughed.

We moved to their table with Jim making, as I knew he would, the
introductions. “You gents mind if we join you? I think you all know Candy
here?”

Of course they were happy for an obvious slut like me to join their beer
fueled meeting, though none of them recognized me.

My oldest friend Mike Aspen was the first to point this out. “Please, ” he
said as he gallantly pulled out a chair for me to sit upon, “though I don’t
think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting you Candy?”

Jim was quick to present them the coup d’^Âtat, “Oh I’m sorry, you
probably know her better as Alan Borne!”

Six jaws simultaneously hit the table. “Alan? Alan Borne, is that really
you?” asked Frank.

With my face burning crimson through my thick makeup I could only nod my
head in shame.

Three of my one time friends got up and left in disgust immediately, but
the three remaining proceeded to grill me as to what I was doing parading
around dressed like, and now sounding and acting, like such a whore.

Fighting back my shame and humiliation, I proceeded to tell them the story
I had been drilled to tell. “Well, I’ve always been a sissy cross-dresser
in private, but Master Jim here, and his brother Master Sam, have kindly
helped me come out of the closet and face what I really am.”

“And what is that exactly?” asked Mike with a rather unwelcome gleam in his
eye.

I paused, not wanting to tell them the awful lies I knew Jim would make me
tell. A hard look from Jim persuaded me to continue. I dropped my eyes to
the table as I told my friends in my now familiar sexy inflection, “Well
you see I’m really turned on by men. I really just want to be a slut who
sucks cocks and gets my men off doing what ever they want to and with me.
That’s why I like to dress and act like this, I’m hoping to attract lots of
men to take home and make out with.”

At this point Frank and Bill decided he’d heard enough and with a look of
disgust in my direction, left to join the others. Mike however, much to my
dismay, was enthralled.

“Well Alan, or didn’t you say it is Candy now? Well Candy, I think it’s
very brave of you to come down here and announce to all of us what a
fucking pervert you are. Who’d have guessed it?” Well, I’m off to bowl now,
but don’t worry, I’ll be in touch with you. I think you and I are going to
have some fun together.”

It was my turn for the jaw to drop. This was one of my oldest friends
believing the crock I had been forced to spill, and worse, threatening to
partake in my ever-continuing debasement.

Mike left us also, leaving Jim with a large grin on his face. “Well that
went well I think” How could he say that? Before I could voice, all be it
sexily, my opinion, he continued. “You know, I think it’s time to try out
one of those hidden hypnotic auto- suggestion commands Sam and Leon
programmed you with, don’t you?”

Oh no, what now? His words appeared perfectly normal as he asked me,
“Candy, would you like a drink?”

Unbeknown to me, the word `drink’ triggered the flirt instruction buried in
my cerebellum. Even as I heard myself asking for rum and coke, a drink I
had never before tried, as I was almost totally teetotal, I felt my whole
attitude towards Jim change. Somehow he now appeared to me as a really
warm, protective and interesting person. I felt that I really wanted to be
with him, to please him and to do anything he wanted for him.

His ordering me up to the bar to order my rum and coke and a Dr. Pepper for
himself interrupted my realization.

I could feel the eyes upon me, some with hatred coming from my ex-friends,
but many more following the progress of my ass and tits as I sleazed my way
up to the bar. It amazed me how quickly service was obtained when you were
dressed like a centerfold model and I was soon on my way back to Jim with
drinks in hand. As I passed one table I was alarmed almost to the point of
dropping the drinks when one old codger slipped a hand up my dress and
pinched my buttock painfully.

Back at the table I gave Jim his drink and was horrified to find myself all
over him. My arm slipped around his neck as I snuggled up close to him and
engaged him in conversation like he was the most fascinating person I had
ever met. Jim loved it as I laughed at the stupidest of his jokes and
generally hung on his every word. I was totally unaware of the disgusted
looks my once close group of friends were shooting my way as I practically
climbed all over Jim, only Mike looked at me with something other than
hatred.

I was oblivious to this as Jim gently took my left hand and pulled it down
on to the crotch of his pants. My mind screamed at my body to stop, but my
actions were not my own as I felt myself licking my dazzling red lips,
looking longingly in to his eyes, while my hand involuntarily started to
gently caress his stiffening member through his denims. When Jim turned his
face to mine I was drawn inexplicably to his lips and allowed his tongue
easy access to the warm interior of my mouth. Although my mind was
repulsed, my body appeared all too willing as we melded together in a long
and passionate embrace.

Even when the waiter came over to take our orders for dinner, a burger and
fries for Jim and a salad for the apparently figure conscious me, I
remained hanging over him while I squeezed and stroked his now turgid
member.

Problems arose when the waiter innocently asked me if I would care for
another drink? I now felt hopelessly attracted to him also and made sexy
eyes at him as I requested a second rum and coke. So now, here I was a
teetotal male, getting more inebriated by the moment while operating under
hypnotic commands to be very turned on by anyone using the word `drink’ in
a bar!

I stared at the waiter’s average butt as if it was the sexiest I’d sever
seen, while continuing to fondle Jim’s penis through his pants. Noticing my
arousal at the waiter’s use of the magic word, Jim decided to raise the
ante on me.

Using another of my embedded commands he asked me, “Candy, do you like to
suck through a straw or sip from a glass?”

I was suddenly over come with an irresistible urge to suck Jim’s penis. It
didn’t matter that we were in a public place. With a wickedly slutty grin
upon my face, I slowly slid beneath the covered table. Luckily the long
tablecloth prevented anyone from seeing me under there, though I know
several people saw me sliding down.

Once down I eagerly unzipped Jim’s fly and proceeded to feast upon his hard
cock as if it was the first meal I had in weeks. Still my mind cried out
for me to stop my disgusting actions, but my body was under someone else’s
command and I was powerless to resist. Even the arrival of the waiter with
our food did not interrupt my loud slurping upon Jim’s dick.

Jim decided that it was too private down under the tablecloth, so
unbeknownst to me he slowly pulled the tablecloth towards him. This
obviously resulted in the edge of the cloth facing the crowded bar lifting
slowly up to reveal my shapely and tanned ass and legs below, only when the
top of the table was visible to him did he put the heavy ashtray on it to
hold it in place.

I was still blissfully unaware that I was providing such an obviously
pornographic show to all in the bar, worse, as the table cloth had slid up
it had snagged the hem of my tiny dress enough to lift it up over my ass. I
was now clearly visible to all and sundry, my vivid yellow thong and garter
belt, holding up my back seemed stockings, my freshly tattooed ass and
bobbing head clearly on show for all to see. I was far too preoccupied
feasting on Jim’s ramrod stiff cock to have the faintest idea. The hypnotic
commands buried in my subconscious meant that all my energies were focussed
entirely on running my tongue over Jim’s glans, or letting it fill my mouth
as my tongue danced on his sensitive underside and my red lips were
stretched around his nearly six inch circumference cock. Ensuring his
entire length slid easily up and down my distended throat was of the utmost
importance to me, despite my silently crying mind, as was sucking and
slurping noisily upon his testicles.

With my yellow thong clad ass waving delectably in the air, and my silicone
breasts nearly spilling from the flimsy dress I wore, I threw myself at the
task of bringing Jim off. I was not to know that Sam and Dr. Ngonge had
used their collective experiences to effectively program me to become the
ultimate cocksucker. Nor was I to know that even as I was giving my all to
bring Jim off, frantically forcing his seven inch tool up and down my
throat, he was casually handing out my new `business’ cards to all and
sundry, while inviting them to take photographs and reminding them to be
sure to check out my new tattoo.

At last I felt Jim start to buck his hips and seconds later the first of
many spurts of hot man juice splashed against the back of my throat and
down to my hungry stomach. Still totally unaware of the enthralled audience
drinking in my every action, I obediently proceeded to swallow every last
drop.

The first hint I had that anything was this far astray was when I gulped
down the last of Jim’s semen, carefully licked his deflating cock clean,
kissed the tip of his glans before lovingly placing it back in his
jeans. As I climbed back up from under the table I was astounded, and
furiously humiliated, to be greeted by a loud round of applause! My face
burnt the hottest scarlet imaginable as I realized the twenty or so people
in the restaurant had viewed my completely-degraded performance. Jim made
me move in front of our table and curtsey to `my fans’, making me lift the
hem of my mini-dress as I did so, providing them all a glimpse of the front
of my yellow thong and garters.

Fortunately, I was then allowed to eat the little salad Jim had ordered for
me, it did little to ease my hunger, though as Jim commented loudly enough
for all to see, “I’m surprised you’re still hungry after that `protein
shake’ you so obviously just enjoyed.”

15 Bowling:

Just then I heard my name, Alan Borne, being blasted over the paging
system, lane 7 was ready and it was time to bowl.

I bolted down the last of my salad, along with another rum and coke from
the ever so good-looking waiter, and off we went.

Jim took control as we went to the front counter to change our shoes, my
relief at stepping out of the hideous heels was short lived as I looked at
the couple we would be bowling with. Sherri and Don – my girlfriend and the
man she has been boffing behind my back.

We walked to join them on lane 7, me still walking like a seasoned
streetwalker despite the flat bowling shoes I wore now. Sherri didn’t see
us coming, but Don did and was quick to point me out to Sherri. Any hopes I
might have harbored about Sherri helping me were crushed by the malicious
smile that lit up her face as she watched me saunter over behind Jim.

“Well ,well, well.” she smiled at me “Will you look at the little
cocksucking, tit flashing, whore walking little sissy faggot.”

“Sherri, it’s not as it looks…” I started, but she cut me off.

“Oh I know exactly how it is, Don, Sam and Jim have been good enough to
fill me on in all the little details of your secret cross- dressing. Did
you know that Sam and Jim have been videotaping you doing it for the past
year?”

This was certainly news to me as my expression plainly told Sherri. “No. I
though not. Well they have, and now it seems they’re helping you live out
your fantasies for real.”

I tried to interrupt here “No, darling that’s…”

Don’t you dare `Darling’ me you disgusting faggot!” she screamed, adding to
my feeling of discomfort as more people stared at us, “There is no way in
hell I will have anything more to do with you as a man, you pathetic little
perverted cock sucker. Yes, I saw you in there, now don’t try telling me
you were not enjoying giving Jim a blowjob. I saw you, I saw the contented
look on your face. You’re sick Alan, a sick and twisted cocksucking
pervert. If you want to live out your life as some type of slut, then so be
it, I won’t try to stop you, I’ll even help you. But do not expect me to
keep on seeing you.” Her mood turned nasty as her rant against me
progressed, “I’m afraid your pathetic little dick has failed to satisfy me
for some time now, that is why I’ve been seeing Don. I have needs and you
obviously cannot fill them. I can see why now. You’re more interested in
sucking dicks than pleasing a woman.”

Her words stung me to the core of my being. “No… No Sherri… No.” I
stammered.

“Oh shut up Alan, or I hear you prefer Candy now, look at you, you sashay
around and dress like a total slut. I doubt the rest of the women in here
combined have as much makeup on as you do! Why you even talk like a fucking
slut! You and I are through. I’ve thrown all your stuff out and I’ll be
round to pick up the few things of mine I left at your house, providing
you’re not using them of course? From now on our relationship will be
severely different, the boys have told me how you enjoy being the little
sissy submissive, and I’ve always fancied trying my hand at playing the
dominatrix. So from now on sweet little Candy, you will refer to me as
Mistress Sherri and Don will be Master Don, and you will do exactly what we
order. Is that clear?”

“But Sherri…”

“I SAID IS THAT CLEAR?” She screamed, ensuring the few people who were not
laughing as they eavesdropped in on my humiliation soon were.

“Yes Mistress Sherri.” I mumbled. Now even the woman I had loved was
joining in.

“I can’t hear you Alan. Yes what?” Sherri said, loudly for the assembled
audience.

“Yes Mistress Sherri, Yes Master Don.” I replied loud and clear, drawing
amazed and amused looks from those around me who suddenly realized I was
Alan, “Candy will do exactly what you order me to do.”

“Good, then lets get bowling shall we?”

Of course the whole bowling thing was just another means to further torment
me. First my name was entered on the big overhead score board as `Cock
Sucker’, and then I had the dubious pleasure of trying to bowl with my evil
looking long finger nails and pathetically short dress. There was no way on
earth this could be achieved without affording everyone an uninterrupted
view of my stocking tops, bright yellow garter belt and tiny thong panties,
as well as regular exposure of my humiliatingly tattooed bottom.

On two separate occasions I was approached and asked if the advertisement
on my left buttock was true? Jim whispered the magic phrase to me, “Candy
slut obey” and I obediently followed the guy to the gents toilets, sank to
my knees on the filthy floor, and give a blow job to a total stranger. The
last time he insisted on coming between my tits, resulting in an excess of
slimy sperm staining my skimpy dress and congealing cold and damp around my
breasts, stomach and yellow bra. This of course was immensely amusing to
Sherri, Don and Jim who made me scoop up the excess with my long pink nails
and then feed it in to my mouth for all to see and laugh at.

Don loved my newfound submissive behavior and enjoyed pretending to teach
me how to bowl. This entailed him standing right up behind me, close enough
that I could feel his erection pressing in to my bottom, and then having me
bend over, revealing all, and going through the motions of a simple bowling
delivery with his hand positioned on my buttock below my hemline. Normally
I was a competent bowler, but my long nails were very painful in the tight
holes, the effects of as many as eight strong rum and cokes, and my skimpy
attire were all too distracting for me to concentrate. So again and again
Don was able to rub up against me, an act Sherri thought most funny, while
all the time making me look a complete airhead.

As the game drew to a close Sherri took me off to the ladies toilets and
forced me to give her a very thorough oral seeing to, lasting a full
half-hour. When we finally left the cubicle, my make up was ruined by her
juices and having had her slide all over my now sore face. Sherri refused
to let me clean up, and as an added ignominy tucked the short hem of my
dress in to the waistband of my yellow panties.

I drew yet more glances, both of hatred and craving, as we walked out the
toilets and into the crowded bowling alley. I was still unable to walk with
anything other than my lascivious gait, and now with my bottom totally
exposed, felt even more a lowlife than before.

Finally it was time to leave. I was made to French kiss Don and Sherri a
long and hard goodnight, Don’s hands taking liberties with my available
flesh. As we went to part company, Sherri called Jim back and handed him
some type of leather pouch containing I know not what, but I felt sure I
would find out soon enough.

16 My Cherry:

When we arrived home, Sam was there to inquire how our evening had
been. Jim recounted the events with much laughter from the brothers and
shame from me. Sam was especially keen to hear that the hypnotic
programming had been such a success. He was also very interested in what
Sherri had handed to Jim. He took the pouch and unzipped it revealing a
sheet of paper and four hypodermic needles.

After reading the paper, he turned to me and said “Guess what cunt? Your
ex-girlfriend has come through with the hormones!”

It was another slap in the face to hear that the woman I once thought loved
me was aiding and abetting in my abject humiliation, my face reflected my
horror as Sam continued. “She says here that these are still very
experimental, actually she says they’ve only been tested on cattle so far!
But apparently they should work wonders on you. She thinks they’ll give you
the tits, hips and ass of a really stacked tart in less than two weeks!
Well let’s give them a go shall we?”

I cowered away as he approached, sending a fine stream of clear fluid
shooting from the wicked looking needle of a large hypodermic. Seeing me
retreat, Jim quickly grabbed me and held me still as Sam slid the plunger
home and the evil fluid coursing into my body through the vein in my arm.

Sam continued reading, “Sherri thinks we should start to see results as
early as tomorrow. It also appears that young Miss Candy will start eating
like a horse and sleeping a lot of the time. Well that’s fine by us, I have
a lot of organizing to do. You have no idea how hard we’re working on your
behalf Candy. I think the very least you can do is take my little brother
off and show him just how grateful you are. Don’t you?

This was it. The moment I had been dreading the past 24 hours. Jim wasted
no time and grabbed my wrist and dragged me towards my bedroom. As we
entered I saw that Sam had indeed been busy, every last trace of
masculinity had been removed from my bedroom. The walls were now covered
with pictures of scantily clad men, there were flowers, candles and teddy
bears on every surface, and my bed had been replaced with a four-poster
trimmed with pink and white lace. It was some kind of nightmarish version
of a little girl’s bedroom.

Jim ordered me to shower and then dress in the miniscule little baby doll
nightie, at least I was able to remove the hated butt plug from my now well
stretched sphincter.

Following orders I stepped from the shower and proceeded to brush out my
long blond hair until the static crackled and it shimmered around my face
like a halo. I applied miniscule makeup, just enough really to cover my
permanent tattooed cosmetics, slipped the nightie over my head and
unencumbered breasts, missing for once the accompanying panties, slipped in
the Marabou mules and teetered back in to bedroom.

Jim was siting up naked in bed, already sporting a sizeable erection. I
blushed and looked away as I caught sight of it, realizing how much more
intimate I was about to come with it. I noticed the video camera was set up
on the tripod to capture all of the action about to happen on the bed.

Signaling for me to join him on the bed, I slinked my away across the room
and climbed up next to him, unknowingly licking my red lips as I had been
programmed to. Jim pulled me to him in a long drawn out kiss, I felt myself
unwittingly melt in to his body, all the while my brain was screaming at me
to stop, to no avail.

“Why don’t you slide on down and pay my dick a little attention Candy?”
whispered Jim as he broke off the probing of my mouth with his long
tongue. Amenably I did as told and slid slowly down until my face was
hovering over his erection.

I was now deprived of hypnotic direction and so was only too well aware of
exactly what I was doing, but still had no choice as I showered little
kissed up and down his length and all over the monster’s glans. Upon the
word from Jim, I took the tip in to my hot mouth and sucked hard,
skillfully running my tongue over the sensitive underside. Jim let out a
small moan as I took his entire length down my throat and began slowly deep
throating his tool.

After about five minutes of this Jim said, “Candy, lube my tip well with
your spit as I want you to climb on top now.” This was really it, I was
about to loose my virginity.

I slathered his helmet with as much of my spit as would stick and then
climbed up, lowered myself on to my haunches and slowly lowered myself
until I could feel the tip of his monster at my most private of places. Jim
had me positioned so that I was looking at both him and the video
camera. He held up his hands so that I had something to brace myself with
and with a final whispered command of “Smile nicely for the folk’s back
home!” I lowered myself on to his erection with a smile that lied that I
was loving this.

I was immediately glad of the saliva I had applied as I felt his glans
slide in to my distended anus, stretching it further than ever before. It
felt like the moment when a long period of constipation ends with a massive
movement, and yet still it continued to slide into my colon. I unknowingly
opened my mouth into a soundless `O’ as it slid fully home. My bottom was
now filled with real live man cock.

Jim used his hands, which I tightly grasped, to signal to me to start
sliding up and down his length. As disgusted as I was, the motion of his
penis against my prostrate aroused me and my small penis hardened
noticeably. “Oh you like this don’t you Candy? Tell me how you like it,
tell Master Jim how you love his big hard cock up your boy-pussy.”

Whispered Jim, careful to keep his voice off the video soundtrack I
noticed.

And so, once again, I was forced to take on the role of willing participant
as I moaned and cried, “Oh yes Master Jim, your hard cock feels so good in
Candy’s boy-pussy.” Jim continued to prompt me, unseen from the video’s
camera careful location, my script as I slid up and down his slippery
dick. “Oh baby, Candy just loves your big hard cock, she loves to slide up
and down your manly love pole.” And “Give it to me Master Jim, give Candy
the hard fucking the naughty little cum craving sissy slut deserves.

Jim then had me take my pathetic little penis between my long pink talons
and stroke myself until my own orgasm approached. Using the remote control
to zoom the camera in, he was careful to catch all the action of my
inadequate little spurt of cum as his own, much larger, cock sawed in and
out of my tight ass. “OH baby, oh baby”, I cried in a near scream as I
jettisoned a tea spoon of pale liquid into my hand, “It feels so good! Your
dick feels so good stretching my tight little boy-pussy. Come on lover give
it to Candy, shoot your load right up her. Fuck this little slut hard.” I
dutifully followed his impromptu script, hating every vile word I was
forced to cry and scream out loud while feeding my own semen into my mouth
from my hand.

I was repositioned on all fours, allowing Jim easy access to my bottom, he
immediately started thrusting his hard cock in and out of me at a frantic
pace, causing my breasts to swing crazily beneath me for the cameras all
seeing eye. I was moved around the bed to give alternating views of his
cock stretching and slamming in and out of my ever so sore butt. Or of my
face seemingly enraptured by his butt fucking me as I cried out unfelt
encouragement, and of my pendulous tits undulating wildly below, almost
giving me black eyes from their insane motion.

Jim finally did as I begged him and gripped my hips hard as he thrust up to
deliver his load high in to my colon. I could feel the warmth of his sperm
as it coated the inside of me, and still I obediently thrust forwards and
backwards on his tool. All the while I was crying out “Oh yeah baby, shoot
your hot load up my boy-pussy, give Candy your jism, fuck her hard.” to him
and the video’s benefit.

It was done. I felt like the last vestige of my diminished masculinity had
been taken from me with my anal virginity. Worse, I had orgasmed, signaling
I was perhaps more accepting of my new role than I liked.

Jim didn’t care, for he had me lick his fouled penis clean of any trace of
me. I was made to slide one of the oversize tampons up my wounded anus, `o
prevent me ruining my pink satin sheets, before snuggling up lovingly to
him and telling the camera just how much I had enjoyed it all. “That was
great Master Jim”, I still continued to smile lovingly at the camera,
“thank you so much for taking Candy’s cherry, you really are the greatest
lover, thank you for fucking this bad little sissy slut. Candy just loves
your hard cock, thank you.”

I was finally permitted to end the longest day of my life by snuggling up
nice and tightly with the man who had just fucked me up the ass while
filming it and making me beg for it.

17 A New Me:

I awoke, alone, around three in the afternoon. I was incredibly sore around
my ass, and my nipples were itching like crazy. A fact made infinitely
worse by my not being able to reach them below my silicone prosthetics. I
thought I should get up, but instead snuggled back down to sleep. I did not
reawaken until it was dusk outside and there were voices in the house.

I sleepily crawled from my bed, tugging the hem of my baby doll as far over
my hips as it would go, slipped no my peignoir and mules and left the
bedroom.

Sam entered as I was in the kitchen, tucking in to a plate of pancakes
smothered with butter and maple syrup. He observed me stuffing the fatty
foods in my mouth before he commented and laughed. “Damn girl, you look
like shit. Though I’m not surprised after the performance you gave Jim last
night.”

I blushed as I remembered the humiliations I had endured last night. Sam
thought it most amusing. “Yeah I watched your video this morning, you
really got off on being fucked up the ol’ shitter didn’t you?”

I knew he would not believe the truth, so told him what he wanted to
hear. “Yeas Master Sam, Candy likes being fucked up her shitter.”

“Well” he smiled, “We’ll just have to make sure you get plenty of
opportunities to do it then, won’t we?”

Why did he have to make everything a question, I dutifully answered him,
“Yes Master Sam, thank you, Candy would like that.”

He noticed me playing with my plastic breasts. “What’s the matter there
girl, you itching, or are you just itching for more anal action?”

“Its Candy’s breasts Master, they’re itching really badly.” I replied
quickly.

“Well that must be the effects of your darling Sherri’s hormones. Let me
have a look, take off your clothes.”

Without as second thought I stripped off in my kitchen, right in front of
the window, and let Sam inspect my spectacular breasts. “Let me get the
solvent and we’ll see how your real titties are coming on.”

He disappeared to return shortly with an aerosol can. He liberally sprayed
my chest with a foul smelling spray, and after a few seconds the plastic
monstrosities dropped off my real chest. I instantly went to scratch them
and was surprised how sensitive they were. Worse, they were already
noticeably bigger. They were now swollen, not quite an `A’ cup, but getting
there, the nipples were also noticeably thicker.

“Damn!” laughed Sam, “Sherri was right, they’re already grown.” Here, it’s
time for your second dose, this time we’ll try it direct to the proper
areas.”

I was then forced to endure a total of six shots from one big
hypodermic. The first two were into my nipples, the next two in to each
buttock, and the last two into both testicles. Almost immediately I was
bone tired and had to be helped back to bed.

This went on for four days, all I did was sleep until my ravenous appetite
woke me, and once satiated by the food provided in my bed, I returned to
sleep some more. I have vague recollections of Sam administering more
injections through my sleepy haze, but cannot be sure.

Eventually I awoke, and did not immediately return to sleep, I wolfed down
all the cakes, donuts and ice cream that was beside my bed. I finally felt
able to leave the bed. I staggered weakly to my feet, slipped on the
requisite feminine garments and left my bedroom. I was surprised that
someone had reattached the plastic breasts to me while I slept and so
walked, in my obligatory whore’s style in to my front room.

I was also surprised at the wolf whistles that Sam and Jim greeted my
arrival with. That is I was surprised until Sam pointed out that my breasts
were now real!

I was horrified and immediately grabbed the monstrosities with both hands,
it was true. I now had two enormous and very real, warm and sensitive
breasts. Sam and Jim came over to inspect them with me and soon had me
naked to inspect for other changes as they ran their hands all over my
body.

I was led back to the full mirror in my bedroom to see for myself the
damage they had wrought on me. I was totally aghast. There, staring back
at me, was a one hundred percent feminine reflection. Enormous breasts,
measuring in at 36 D, capped with two proudly protruding nipples,
surrounded by three inch diameter aureoles hung and danced from my
chest. My hips had visibly contracted, while my ass had grown. I had
noticeably lost a lot of weight, and that which I had retained had been
relocated to all the right spots – for a woman that is.

Every last trace of my masculinity, bar one – my tiny penis, further
reduced by the hormones – was gone. Replaced by an incredibly feminine and
sexy hourglass figure. They had done it. I was now completely, and
according to Sam irrevocably, Candy Row, the sissy slut sex slave.

Copyright: The [email protected]
December 2000

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