Kristy - A Sissy Slave

It was dark. It was also very stuffy. I've been through so much in who knows how much time and have changed in many ways. I hardly have any meaningful memories of my life before everything began.

I last remember my age as 19. I've not been outside too often, or even seen a watch, or anything else to give me some sense of time. I was swept up, bundled up, dragged off into the abyss... - Or so it felt! I had no family and no friends when I moved to a new town in the hopes of starting a new life.

My thoughts begin to trail off when I think of the past as though it's just of zero importance. I used to get sad when I thought of the past, before what's happening now. Before what has happened in what has seemed like oceans of time that I've blindly crossed as a captive.

That's what I know I am - A captive.

I was a slender young man, with long dirty blonde hair, dark blue eyes, and stood only 5'7" in height and weighing just shy of 115 lbs. I can remember being called all kinds of names by other kids as I grew up. I have been told I have very feminine mannerisms. The way I move, gesture with my hands, even standing still. Most people, especially throughout my school years, assumed I was gay. I didn't think so. I always fostered attraction for the opposite sex.

Eventually I met and began to see a woman about 5 years older than me who one day got me to 'dress up' for her in her clothes and makeup. As it turns out, I was really good at being a girl and I began to take a sense of pride in that. When her and I parted ways, I dressed up for myself when I had absolute privacy. I loved the feel of a girls clothes. The soft, stretchy, and almost silky feel of a long maxi-dress covering my smooth slender features was a feeling I craved every day. The feel of lacy underwear, satin thong panties, silky bra's and slips, and sheer stockings bring incredible euphoric sensations that I cannot equate to anything else I've ever experienced.

There I go! My thoughts elude me and I'm suddenly reminded of where I am presently and the situation I'm in.

I am dressed in a black, tight, and stretchy PVC mini-dress. It's backless and the straps come from the chest and meet around the very base and back of my neck. My hair has been dyed black, cut short around the sides a little and then much shorter in the back. My hair is long around front and hangs around my face. At it's longest it hangs around 3 inches from the sides of my chin and jaw-line and gets shorter going back, as previously described.

My ears are now pierced numerous times from the lobes and along the edges to the near top. Nothing fancy. I at least get some choice in the style of earrings I must wear and lastly, my tongue is pierced with your basic metal ball-stud. This is somewhat new and only fully healed recently, I think.

My makeup a dark smokey style with shades of dark blue to black. My liner is black as is my mascara and the way it's done is to make my eyes seem bigger and more round. More.. Innocent in a way. I have dark red lipstick that's almost black. My nails naturally long, and manicured to have a slight point to each nail. The black glossy nail polish clashes strongly with my naturally white, porcelain skin tone.

I am completely hairless save for what I have on my head. I always shaved and was saving up for the laser hair removal treatment before things went crazy. Eventually, after my capture, I was 'refined'. Part of that 'refinement' revolved around removal of any hair through the very treat I wanted to get. Eventually, well quite recently, I was put on hormones and already can see a difference in the way my body distributes fat, making me appear even more femme.

Under the dress I wear a black stretch-lace bralette. The straps follow the dress and go around the back of my neck and not over my shoulders. My... breasts are, for now, a set of some very life-like gel-filled synthetic skin breasts that have been adhered to the contours of my body as to not look entirely disproportionate. They used a chemical that has the bonding power of cement but you can't even tell as they, move, sit, and even bounce like the real deal. The gel and even the 'skin' take on my body heat and now feel what I imagine real ones would feel like. My boobs are somewhere around a 34 b - cute, perky, and perfect for my frame. My nipples a soft pink in color but are visible through the stretchy lace of my bra.

Around my waist, under the somewhat clingy dress, I have on a very smooth, black, seamless satin thong and a garter belt of black stretchy satin and lace. The garters attach to thigh-high, sheer black , PVC-topped stockings. With those come the shoes. Black, glossy, 8-inch stiletto heels.

During my refinement and training I was forced to wear this lovely little chastity device that kept my 'sissy clitty' locked away. Eventually I was put on the honor system and the device was removed.. for now.

If I get off without permission or am caught trying to, I get 10 strokes on the soles of my feet with a wicked little cane. My 'sissy clitty' or clit, as I must now refer that part of my body to, is for this occasion, tucked and pushed in with the rest of my anatomy down there. I was never really considered 'well endowed' so it's pretty easy to 'tuck' and is completely unnoticeable even when wearing stretchy skin-tight panties. I was told that it will get smaller as the hormones run their course. Oh, well...

I wear on my wrists, at ALL times, thick black leather bondage bracelets. They are a couple layers of strong, reinforced leather, with nothing soft underneath where they are pressed against my skin. They were specially tailored to my size as my wrists are very dainty. They are fastened by two sturdy stainless steel buckles and have matching stainless steel loops on top, bottom, and sides of each bracelet. My wrists are bound securely behind my back by a padlock thats threaded through a steel loop on each bracelet. Secured around my neck very SNUG is a thick and VERY strong leather collar. It has loops in the same fashion as the bracelets, only mere buckles do not lock and secure it around my neck. Its straps were replaced with a steel locking mechanism that's compact, yet sturdy, and requires a key to unlock.

'The collar ALWAYS stays on...' echoes through my mind instinctively when I think about the collar. It's on so tight! It took TIME to learn how to adjust to it.

I sit on my knees, which are SPREAD far apart and planted firmly in the thick and oddly SOFT carpeting that covers the walls and ceiling as well. It's extremely dark in here. Not just because of the windowless interior but also due to the black leather strap with black-velvet insides, wrapped and secured around my head covering my eyes. To make my situation more uncomfortable, a thick red rubber ball is firmly situated in my mouth and secured firmly by leather straps attached to the sides of the ball and meeting at the back of my head. The ball feels like it's going into my throat, and the straps dig uncomfortably into my skin. It strains my jaw painfully and the burning from the strain never eases.

To keep me still, and my posture optimal in the eyes of my captors, a length of black nylon rope is secured to a steel anchor in the floor behind me. The rope is pulled taught goes up to a steel loop in the wall behind me but high up, at just before where wall becomes ceiling. The rope is threaded through that loop high up behind me, and back down to and threaded through a steel loop on each of my bracelets. This lifts my arms upward as they are bound together at the wrists behind my back, forcing me to bend my upper body forward and causing terrible strain. A strain I can NEVER get used to.

Thick tendrils of clear saliva stretch and hang gracefully from the edges of the red rubber ball-gag and around my bottom lip and sides of my mouth. They extend and break at different lengths. My saliva has been oozing slowly from my mouth and to the floor like this for some time.

I am sitting like this, not in some hole in ground somewhere, but rather inside the back of a van. I was told nothing other than being instructed to sit, bend, and 'shut the fuck up'. I've never been here before. Panic races through my mind, and a cold icy black pit rests within my stomach. It's hot where I sit... But it feels like my blood has turned into icy rivers inside my body. I could MAYBE try to move or shift my knees.. -but I was told...

"... stay put! Don't you fucking move a muscle." the somewhat deep, angry and authoritative voice barked at me. " I don't need to remind you what will happen if you disobey." each word traveled fast into my mind, instinctively making my back arch more firmly, as if trying to stay even more still.

Even after those last words I can feel the breath of the man bellowing against the soft skin of my cheeks. It reeked of alcohol and disgusted me as much as it terrified me. The man barking at me, from what I've heard him called, is 'Brennerdt' or simply, 'Bren'. A thick man of average height with brown, unkempt , and messy hair. He had thick jowls almost like pig, and his eyes sat deep in his face giving him little dark circles around them. His eyes are a faded brown like his hair. The man is just.. Thick! His pot-belly and the hair on his arms and body make him look almost like a gorilla. A stinking, drinking, alcoholic, short-fused gorilla. He is VERY mean, short, and impatient with me. When he gets really hammered... He's sadistic.

I feel the vehicle turn and go from a smooth to gravel road that's uneven and bumpy even worse. A loud thump on the other side of the wall next to me, coming from the direction of the driver snaps me out of my thoughts. A rectangular view-port covered by a metal slat, slides open and a more calm, yet equally authoritative voice sounds from within "Wake up, bitch. We're almost there..." The view port swiftly slams shut. The other man is a colorful character named Hockstetter, 'the guys' call him 'Hock' for short.

Hock is more collected and calculative than his colleague. He is also sober most of the time which makes him more predictable. This doesn't mean he's more lenient. He's just as impatient, cruel, and mean as Brennerdt. He is just more stable. Hock is a tall man who is built more muscular than Bren but with a little fat thrown in. His features a little more sculpted, his head is shaved, presumably because he's losing his hair, and his knuckles on his powerful hands, are dinged and worn with scars. The man used his fists to settle many disputes no doubt. The thing that really scared me most was his eyes. Hock's eyes were like dark, angry slits that sat above pronounced cheekbones. Whenever he looks at me, it's as if his are drilling holes through my head. He terrifies me!

The vehicle comes to a stop and my 'minders' exit the cab together. They come around both sides of the van, and I can mildly make out the sound of crickets, lots of crickets, and the soft shallow crunch of gravel beneath the feet of the two men. I take a deep breath, hoping the bumpy road or all the turns made during the journey didn't inadvertently shift me a little. These two are surprisingly observant... Especially with me. If I had to guess, they aren't happy with who and what I am and that they have been tasked by The Master to cart me around and babysit me.

Even though I think they hate me... They are very grabby with me, especially when I was given boobs. They love to make up reasons to punish me so they can justify their excessive use of force with me. Man-handling, groping, sometimes smacking, and other times just tying me up in a stressful position and leaving me in the dark for however long I'm never sure. This on top of the usual whipping, caning, and being tied up in very uncomfortable and painful positions and being degraded and humiliated, to boot. They spit on me, and sometimes purposely make a mess while I'm cleaning up or cooking just to punish me. It happens constantly. They've NEVER been particularly nice to me and call me nearly every degrading and foul thing they can think of.

They aren't allowed to fuck me, however. The Master was very specific about that. Everyone feared The Master and-!

-I hear the locks being worked on the doors and suddenly the doors swing open. The cool nights air and symphony of chirping crickets would signal it's night time. The two men stand at each open door looking in. I can FEEL their piercing gaze at me.

"What do you think, Bren?" Hock says before taking a drag off his cigarette then flicking it off into the distance.

"You know what I think? - I don't give a fuck if she didn't move. I'm gonna say she did. I'm gonna PUNISH her." He says with a sadistic ring to his voice, then snorts obnoxiously and spits on the ground beside him.

"Well, let's get this shit over with so we can chop it up with the boys and maybe grab a couple beers before we have to go back." Bren said, running his fingers back through his greasy hair, before turning to face me inside the van.

I begin trembling a little then more and more as the two men climb into the van and start fiddling with my restraints. When they are done my wrists are free of the anchoring rope in the van but they are bound together behind my back still. A black leather leash, thick and long, is latched onto my collar. Bren coils the leash around one hand, close to where it latches to my collar. He holds the rest of the length in a large loop with his free hand as he pulls me forward. Hock uses one hand to clamp my already tightly bound wrists in a vice-like grip and grips my shoulder with the other.

"Bend! ...More! Bend over more! -fuck!" Hock barks at me from behind. Each word he barks from behind me is accompanied by a jostling with either of his hands clamped onto me as they were.

I can barely keep my balance as my whole body is so stiff, my legs are pins and needles, and the heels just make it worse. If I fall, they'll do something to me. If I take too long, they might just be mean. I take my chances and try to go easy. Eventually I feel Bren's hands clamp my slender waist and lift me out and set me down on the gravel surface. Already I can tell, walking on this will be lovely! Just lovely!

They begin to move me after Hock shuts the doors of the van. Bren leads me by a taught and steady pull of the leash. Hock lights another cigarette and then catches up, clamping his arm around my upper arm.

"She fuckin drooled the whole way, man. There's a puddle in that carpet." Hock says while blowing a thick white puff of smoke.

"Yeah. We should ding her stupid ass for that too. Fuck I need another fuckin drink!" He says with a spiteful and irritated tone.

I hear the distinct sounds of some massive party nearby. It's getting louder as we approach. The laughing, loud music, and obnoxiously loud conversations speckled with obscenities and other inaudible shouting sends cold chills down my spine. More so when I realize the braying of laughter, shouting, and drunken banter are all men. I hear not one female in the whole cacophony of drunken chaos coming from up ahead. I start to shiver and squirm while twisting and pulling at my restraints. This only encourages Bren to hustle me to the stairs leading to the entrance and start picking at me again.

"C'mon, shit-wit. Don't be shy! They will all LOVE you." He taunts, while his words dribble with sarcasm.

There's some guys out front, who upon noticing me, start whistling and howling. They move to open the door for us and get a closer look at me. I can SMELL the booze on them as they open the doors, and hold them open. One even takes the opportunity to slap my ass making me jump slightly. Bren and Hock have a small chuckle at my reaction.

"Damn, Bren! What's the occasion? She's hot!" One of the men says while he eyes my body.

Hock gets in between us and in his authoritative tone he tells the man, "No way, buddy! Hands off the merch! Now, kick rocks! " He says while hooking his thumb over his shoulder.

"Man, if I had to pull that duty I'd be fucking that bitch six ways to Sunday." One of the two men says and is met with an "mmm-hmm!" by the other.

When we enter I'm overwhelmed by the pal of cigarette and cigar smoke hanging in a dense grey cloud over the large room with vaulted ceilings. I'm greeted with cat calls and degrading remarks as my minders push through what seemed like a veritable sea of people in the main room. The place, I would later see, is like one of those sort of all-in-one town hall/cafeteria/rec. area for loggers in the woods. It conjures images of caricatures of lumberjacks in flannel shirts, and thick beards stuffing themselves with pancakes before hoisting axes and hacking down tree's the size of skyscrapers.

As we make our way through the crowd I'm treated to random gropes on my body and smacks on my ass. I'm trying to squirm and writhe away from the sea of hands probing me but its completely futile. For once, I'm actually glad my minders are here. If they let me go or just weren't here at all I could be torn to shreds.

"Awww, Bren I think she LIKES you!" Hock says while giving me a shove forward making me stumble against the stinking gorilla holding my leash.

"Quit screwin around!" Bren shouts as he pushes me back then jerks forward on my leash.

We leave the main hall and come to a single door. Hock raps on the door with the bottom of his fist. Someone eventually responds and opens the door a crack. Hock leans in, exchanges words with the shadowy figure on the other side and the door swings open. I'm escorted in and the door slams shut and locks behind us with a series of metallic clinks and clanks.

Hock stops me, grabs me by my hair and through gritted teeth he says into my ear, "DON'T fuck this up. You do what they WANT. If I hear any complaints, you will suffer!" His words send chills down my spine. I nod nervously as he steps back a bit.

"GET on your knees, dumb-shit! Don't move until instructed otherwise!" Hock barks in his usual charming tone.

I nod nervously and begin to move my legs apart and sink to my knees as directed. My back is straight, shoulders back, and chest perked out. I do this instinctively due to all the conditioning and training I've been put through over time. My drooling from the gag begins to drip on my dress and between my boobs a little. Ugh.

Hock and Bren begin to 'talk business' with one of the guys in the room.The man they are talking to is simply called Jackson. I'm overwhelmed by the feeling of being not just watched but assaulted by the eyes of others somewhere in the room and I bow my head slightly and wait patiently.

I start feeling anticipation... Not bad anticipation, but a part of me is actually becoming a little excited. The attention I've gotten thus far is like nothing I've felt before. It was scary at first but for some reason I felt enticed. Is this natural? Or the result of my often brutal, heavy-handed, and strict training regimens? I guess time will tell very soon.

As I sit on my knees, drooling from the gag, I hear Hock and Bren wrap up their little conversation and begin to take their leave. As Bren leaves the room, Hock walks around behind me, unfastens my blindfold, and removes it.

I'm blinded by the light in the room and instinctively squint and look away at first until my eyes adjust. It's actually not that bright in here, after all. When I open my eyes and my view comes to focus, Hock is leaving the room and pulls the door shut behind him. No 'Goodbye!' or 'Have fun!'... Thus is my life.

The man he was talking to walks past me, locks the door, and comes around to the front of me. He takes a hold of my leash where it latches to my collar and starts pulling upward, telling me to stand. As I stand I notice there are indeed other men in here. Six in total with regards to the man who has taken charge of me tonight.