Fourth Slave

"Would you help me remove this hood please sir?" she said, more clearly this time. She was now sort of leaning on her bum on the cross with her legs straight and I could see her flexing her toes in her shoes to regain circulation in them.

I approached her and leant across her, feeling her body heat. I unbuckled the neck and reached behind to feel a lacing. Fortunately, I recognised the feel of a double bow and with a slight lean forward I could unravel it. My chest was against her upper arm and her left breast and I felt her left hand circle my waist. It felt good and my heart skipped as the rubber skirt also brushed my trouser leg. Once the lacing was loose, I was able to grasp the hood. I felt her breath on my left arm as I eased the now loose but bulky hood forwards. I felt silky hair on my fingers and the hood slid off to reveal a tangle of lovely auburn hair. Her eye make up was badly smeared and she had obviously been crying with pain. Nevertheless the make up was expertly done but now very glazed and runny due to the heat build up in the hood. She had fine features though and our eyes met. I couldn't help but smile and she ruefully smiled back.

"I must look a mess", she said and I saw her eyes seek out a mirror. Not finding one she craned around but it was plain that she did not yet have control of her legs and her hands were suffering as well. I sought out and pushed the pager button and within seconds a female Slaveria member of staff was in the room with us.

"Can you take this slave to somewhere where she can redo her make up, please?", I instructed, "and make sure you help her as she is a bit pins and needles at the moment."

"Yes of course, sir", said the Slaveria staff girl, "come along, you", this last to the slave who was still moving arms and legs to regain circulation. She leant heavily on the staff girl's broad shoulders ( I have noticed that Slaveria staff are always less attractive than the slaves are ) and tottered out of the back door. As she did so, I noticed a transparent blouse draped over a chair and picked it up.

"Before you go", I said,"can you put this on before you come back and remove the dildo as well." I handed the latex garment to the slave who used her spare hand to take it and I saw her nod in agreement.

"Of course, sir, I would love to." More of that slightly bassy feminine tone. I felt my heart skip again.

I suppose I must have waited about fifteen minutes. During that time I read and re-read the sheet I had been given. Apart from the unusual information that she was a transvestite and a volunteer to slavery through Slaveria there was little clue as to who she was. No age or name at all and just a one line in description of needs as being a 'committed full time transvestite looking for a good lifelong home in return for all domestic and sexual duties'. It was telling that the sex was lumped under 'duties' rather than 'wants' or 'needs' or even the more sterile 'services'. I knew how carefully Slaveria helped their slaves offer themselves to buyers and how they helped them compile these sheets so that word was not picked lightly. I wonder what sexual duties she saw herself being asked for.

The door opened and in walked the slave. Her hair and make up were immaculate and she was wearing the top as asked. I could plainly see her underwear and the shiny, tight corset under the translucent rubber. She looked an absolute picture, not at all slave like, more like a rubber fanatics wet dream. Once again my heart skipped. I just couldn't resist and went over to her and pecked her on the lips to feel her luscious full lips meet mine and transfer a tiny amount of her gloss and lipstick to my lips. I just had to lick my own lips and she saw me do that and smiled. With that, she took my hand for support and dropped to her knees and her head bowed.

"Thank you, sir for releasing me and honouring me by your interest in me as a slave". More of that musical bassy voice. I didn't release her hand either and she didn't try to pull it away. At least the one I was holding was warm and quite delicate with long fingers and nails all clear varnished.

"What is your name", I asked.

"I have no name, sir", she replied, "and will take whatever name you give me. I do not wish to cloud my future with anything from the past, sir. At the moment sir, I am slave 7," she continued.

"Very well slave 7 and how old are you?" I asked.

A brief pause and then "I am 47 sir, I hope that is not too old for you, sir." This one is a bit gushy, I thought, a bit eager, perhaps close to her shelf date.

" No that age is good, I am older than that anyway", I replied, "and I am aware of your desire for 'lifelong' slavery. So, no turning back then for either of us, is that what you want?" This last was a probe. These slaves knew the score. If their Master or Mistress tired of them they were toast. The whole thing was quite fragile for them.

" I cannot turn back, sir", this said with eye contact, "but you are my Master. If you wish to dispose of me, I cannot object or show emotion about that. I serve who owns me. Only death releases me from slavery, sir, I know that. Sorry,sir I should not look at you without permission."

Her head bowed as she realised her error although, for me it was not an error. I like to see character as it means that I am in charge of something that is valuable and making an effort to please me. Doreen was a past-master at this; serving but not servile. Of course I would not reveal this to slave 7 at this point. It was none of her business but at least she seemed to understand how permanent this was for her and the eye contact told me that she was quite sure about her path. Again I idly wondered about her shelf life. This too made both of us on edge, me not wishing to see a good potential slave wasted, literally in the American sense, and for her to miss the opportunity to serve me and survive.

"Hmmm. OK slave 7, I see the word 'duty' is used in both the domestic sense and the sexual sense. Why do you use the word 'duty' with the word 'sex'. Can you explain that to me, why you used that word?"

Another pause and this time I saw the head come up and her eyes met mine. She adjusted her kneel and I heard the rubber rustle. Again my heart skipped. Her eyes dropped again but I saw a glint in hers and it wasn't a hostile one, more one of respect that I had read her profile and noticed things on it. This girl had been interviewed before!

"Well I think sir that I wanted to convey that, since I am not a real female, I would need to be careful to make sure that my owner found me both sexually attractive and willing so that is why I put the word 'duty' on there."

Her eyes flicked back to mine. This girl was as much interviewing me as I was her. Once again my heart skipped. This girl was getting to me and I was having difficulty keeping my eyes off her. I was a bit wary of TV's as I have said but she didn't know that. Slaveria were just as coy about buyer's details as they were about slaves. I had obviously challenged my reasons for taking the first TV and where it had gone wrong but had been snowed by the subsequent acquisition of Doreen and then after her, the sexually charged Samantha. Certainly, after all that experience I was in a quandary as to which direction I really wanted to take now. It had been a very long time though since I had had this much heart skipping and I felt quite warm towards slave 7. She was ticking boxes. Our eyes met again and she must have seen what I was feeling. I saw the flash of warmth in hers before they dropped again. I decided to drop a stone in the pond.

"So describe what sexual duties you expect to perform for me," I said and I saw a quick grimace pass across her face. I felt sure she knew I was testing her, probing her, making sure she was truly a slave in everything not just sexual favour.

"Whatever sir desi........no wait, that is not what I want to say," she stopped and I could see she was gathering her thoughts. "It is my duty to be a sexual person for my Master. I must concentrate on discovering what he wants me to do, how he wants me to dress and what he wants me to say in order to be sexy for him, to be attractive for him. He will know what I can do for him physically and if he wants that because he finds me attractive then I am complete and have fulfilled my duty to him sexually."

Then came something heartfelt, her tone changed and I heard the following words. " I know I am not a real woman, I am a man and my Master is not gay. I will need to be extra special and continuously so for my Master to want me and I will be extra careful to ensure that my Master is not challenged in any way. I am his slave and his pleasure is my only goal and I will dedicate my life to pleasing my Master in any way possible. I know this will not be easy but I have chosen this path and cannot go back, don't want to go back to what I was. I want to be bought by you Master as your slave so I can start to learn how to please you and you alone for as long as you want me." I heard the choke in the last sentence and felt the same too.

"Stand up, slave 7," I said and she dutifully rose. "Look at me", I commanded and our eyes met. I moved forward and stroked her rubber costume. I walked round her and her head craned after me and met me as I walked round her caressing her rustling and squeaking rubber.

As I reached the front again, still running my hands over her body, she sighed audibly almost a purr and then she looked at me and whispered "Please buy me Master, I want to be yours."

" Put yourself against the cross again, slave 7 and I will bind you to it as you were when I came in. No hood though and keep your blouse on." She moved over to the cross, spread her legs and leant back. I slowly put the straps back on her and she watched me do it. I didn't make them as tight as they had been but she was well secured. Her eyes followed me as I walked to and fro. "Wait there" and with that I left to go into the office to ask how much slave 7 was fetching at the moment.

A price was quoted and I knew that Slaveria prices were non negotiable from previous experience. I also knew that it was two years since my last purchase and I was not an idle browser I had no idea what the Slaveria pricing structure was. I did know that the price was only slightly more than I got for Samantha and I could afford it. I just had to clear this reluctance based on previous experience. I returned to slave 7 with determined tread. She looked at me impassively spread-eagled as she was, her rubber skirt stretched again, the blouse sticking to her arms. She looked vulnerable.

"Look", I said brusquely, "I have reservations about you and whether you are really what I want. I have had a TV before and that didn't work so, this is what I am going to do. I am going to release you and we are going to an interview room. Whilst we are there you will cease to address me as 'sir' or 'Master'. My name is David and I want to know your femme name and your real given first name please."

I quickly undid the straps and after a brief rub and a quick stretch of the legs she looked at me and said "Thank you David for returning and my given name is Brian and my femme name was Briony but I would want to be renamed by you if you buy me." Then she looked straight into my eyes and said, "I am serious about this, I think you and I have connected and I want you to own me and I will be your slave for life." I saw her eyes moisten. "I really have nothing to go back to, my life as Brian is over and although Briony is a success story I want to break away from the TV world. I am inexperienced with men but I know what I want to be and this is why I volunteered for here."

We reached an interview room as she finished speaking and I held the door and ushered her in. I had asked Slaveria for a bottle of wine and two glasses and they were on a coffee table.

"Sit down Brian", I said and I saw the momentary shock cross her face. I addressed her as such deliberately. I had to flush out all her secrets and corners. I had to make sure that she didn't bring issues or bags and baggage with her if I purchased her.

"What are you running from, Brian," I asked and once again I saw her wince. She took a large gulp from her wine.

"As I said, my life as Brian and no wisecracks about the Life of Brian please, I have heard them all, is really behind me now. I was married once and as you have discovered I have a very small penis. She knew this when we married but she was overweight and no oil painting and had, she said, never been with a man anyway so had no comparison. The sex was awful but neither of us knew why. I could come OK but she never did. Anyway, she did get pregnant but because she was so overweight she miscarried and was diagnosed with a dodgy womb and had a hysterectomy so that was that."

"We carried on more out of habit than love and then she started dressing up a lot more and then lost a lot of weight. I just knew that she was getting her sex elsewhere and she used to stop out late at night saying that she had to work late. She certainly was earning a great deal but then so was I. Eventually I got to work from home so I had quite a bit of time to myself. Then I found that the wife and I were roughly the same size so her clothes fitted me and she had recently invested a lot in brand new lingerie and sexy outerwear."

" It all started with her leaving a new dress she had bought hanging on the wardrobe and, as one does, I just idly wondered what it would feel like to wear such a fabulous dress. I knew she was going to be gone all day and most of the night as well so I had plenty of spare time. My home work project was slightly ahead of schedule so I was a bit spare that day. I had stayed in bed until she went to work and was sipping tea looking at this beautiful red dress on its hangar. I knew she wasn't going to wear it today or tonight so what would be the hurt for me to see what it looked like on. She had long since stopped taking any notice in what I thought anyway.

I had a shower and shave and towelled myself off. Once I was completely dry I took the dress with shivering fingers and stepped into it as I had seen her do many times. It slid up over my hips really easily and felt really flimsy against my skin. I put my arms through the armholes and reached behind me for the zip. The feeling as that zip ran smoothly up my back and the dress material hugged my naked skin was indescribable and the sheer thrill was mind blowing. I even walked about feeling the dress move with me and cling to my legs. Then I saw myself in the mirror."

"Obviously, the feelings were not matched by what I saw. My body hair protruding from the cleavage. The slackness of the material around the bust, my leg hair and my tatty white feet were a real downer. Nevertheless the feelings were still there as long as I didn't look in the mirror or allow anyone to see me to mirror in their eyes what I really looked like. So without further ado and still in the dress, I logged onto the Internet and Googled up a few relevant transvestite sites. Some of these guys looked really good dressed and I absorbed all that I read. I am quite slim so that was not an issue but it was plain that the body hair would have to go. I wondered whether the wife would even notice.

It became clear that I needed to try some lingerie so I divested the dress and hung it carefully where I had found it and went raiding the wife's lingerie drawer. I was very careful not to disturb too much and went looking at the bottom of the drawer by lifting up the top layer. In there I found all sorts of matching sets and, in particular a red satin set of bra knickers and suspenders. I also found a red pair of nylons still in their unopened packet and the sales slip still attached showing they were about a year old. Safe enough not to be missed, I thought."

"It took me ages to put all this stuff on as I was unfamiliar with actually doing it but had watched the missus often enough to try and guess what to do. It all fitted me perfectly except for the gaping bra. I had spotted an article on the Internet about that and a pair of ankle socks and a pair of knee high socks were carefully rolled into quite acceptable breasts."

"Once the lingerie was on and adjusted to fit I re-donned the dress. This time it was explosive. My little dick became uncontrollable and as it slid against the satin I was sure I was going to cum and ruin the new dress. I managed to prevent that and sure enough my penis went back to being small so I tucked it between my legs and the tight panties held it there."

"I was in heaven and Briony was born that very day."

"I was determined to be the very best cross dresser as I felt so powerful dressed that I just knew that I wanted this. I wasn't even bothered about the wife finding out but I baulked at the idea of showing her, at least until I was proficient. I was also sure that I had to have my own stuff as filching hers was not an option. I made a note of all the sizes and started ordering on the Internet."

"Then fate intervened. A few days after this, my wife and her boss were killed outright in a terrible car crash.

I was numbed and Briony took a back seat whilst I absorbed the shock. Although we were drifting apart, I would not have wished such a terrible end on her. I did wonder if the boss was also her new lover but it was now just speculation anyway.

I organised the funeral and there was no family, only friends and work colleagues of hers. It highlighted just how alone I had become since opting to work from home. All my work colleagues had drifted off so I had no-one to invite. Both of us were single children and our respective parents were now dead.

The life insurance dutifully paid out. I had a year's wages from her firm and I had taken out a 'loss of spouse' policy on both of us that was really a whole life policy so cover expired when we were 60 and only paid out on the death of one of us before that age. It was quite cheap and the payout was huge and I became pretty wealthy overnight.

When I came home from the funeral I think I felt that a door had closed on a part of my life and that I was now facing a new and very different future. I shaved completely, applied glue to my newly acquired prosthetic breasts and dressed as Briony straight away and stayed up most of the night perfecting her make up. Later, in the early hours, I donned a beautiful nightie and went to bed. I slept very little. In the morning, I resigned my job and sent in the completed work that I had. I spent all day as Briony and felt quite calm but still cried a lot as Brian's identity slowly slipped away with my grief. I don't think Brian would have grieved as much as Briony did."

" I had a couple of phone calls from women who worked with my wife and I think they were fishing for a relationship as all of them asked me out for a drink. I politely declined. In all cases I took the calls as Briony."

"I did however make contact with and invite round a couple of TV's that I met on the Internet in TV chat rooms and both of them were complimentary about Briony and I did actually venture out with them on TV nights out. I did so enjoy the glamour of it and quickly became very femme in my actions by watching the best of them and copying them. I also had some professional voice coaching."

"At the same time I was warned by one almost non descript TV in one of the bars, not to become a drag act. I couldn't see what she meant and I invited her round to the house to show me. We delved into my late wife's wardrobe and she re-dressed me in tights and plain skirts and tops and less flashy jewellery. Then we both climbed into a taxi and went to Tescos to shop for food and toiletries. Nobody turned an eye and it was perfectly normal except for the men eyeing the pair of us but not in a salacious way. It actually felt normal and I think Brian finally 'died' that day. The other TV and I became firm friends, Elisabeth is her name and I learned a lot about blending in from her."