Making Himself Useful

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Don finds Jane - but she no longer needs a husband.
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Don closed his motel room behind him, threw his car keys onto the bed and slumped onto the room's saggy couch. He was exhausted. It was the end of another frustrating day. He walked into the bathroom and ran water into a glass. He drank it down in two gulps and looked at himself in the mirror. He shook his head and poured another glass which he took into the living area. He took out a file from his holdall and not for the first time re-read the divorce papers which had landed through his letter box just over a week ago.

'Irreconcilable differences', the papers read. Irreconcilable from what he wondered. He'd not seen or heard from his wife, Jane, in over four months. He'd got a brief letter from her a week or so after the date of her interview telling him that she was really busy and that she'd be in touch. In touch! The whole tone of the letter was like they were drinking buddies rather than soul mates, lovers and life partners. He'd contacted her parents but they just told him to let her work it out for herself. And then the divorce papers had arrived.

Don Jackson had tried contacting his wife at Stemford Bio but he never made it passed the reception desk. He'd written to Jane at the company, having no other address for her, but his letters had been unanswered. So here he was in the Waylon Motel in Stemford hoping that if he was actually on the doorstep he might just get to see and speak with his wife. He had gone to Stemford Bio earlier that day, but after a few hours in the visitor's area waiting patiently he had been shown the door by a burly security guard by the name of Barbra. Even the police didn't seem all that bothered. The station officer, Yancy Holden, had told him that Miss Watson, the Stemford Bio CEO, was not a kidnapper and that she was sure that his wife be in touch shortly.

Don threw the papers onto the coffee table at the sound of a knock at his door. He opened the door to find a police officer on the landing. A woman officer.

"Don Jackson?" the officer enquired.

"Yes." Without warning the officer sprayed a substance into Don's face. Don reached to close the door, but whatever the substance was it was quick acting and he found himself clutching at air instead. He stumbled back into the room and fell to the floor.

He slept restlessly. Images. People? Noises. More sleep. Strange sensations. Voices. Jane? Sleep. Sleep was good. He hid in his dreams. Wonderful dreams. New images. Jane.

Don opened his eyes.

He was no longer in his motel room.

He struggled to gather his senses. His breathing felt laboured. He looked around the room. There were no windows. The lights were from overheads. His breathing still felt asthmatic. He put his hand to his chest.

"Christ!!!" As if he had been struck by an electric charge he removed his hand from his chest. He threw back the duvet and leapt out of the bed. The shock of his experience and the sudden motion brought him crumbling to his feet. He lay there for a moment and then gathered himself. He dragged himself to his knees. His bed wear caught as he knelt. His knee was caught on the hem. The hem? He struggled to his feet and found his way back to the bed. He sat on the edge of the bed as his head began to dance a jig over which he had no control. His mind still cloudy he examined himself. A nightie. He was wearing a nightie. Even worse, he was wearing a baby doll nightie. It was the kind of lingerie that Jane would wear on special occasions. But what was that on his chest? He once more ran his hand over his chest and as quickly he removed his hand again, but this time noticing that he was aware of the sensations from his chest as he touched it. Once more he felt for his chest and this time slowly, tentatively traced the outline threw the lingerie. Familiar feelings began to sweep through him. His hand found a distended nipple and a charge ran through his body as he brushed passed it. He ripped the flimsy nightie from his torso. Shock struck him again as he looked down upon two firm and fairly sizeable breasts. He now ran both hands over their shape and tweaked their nipples. A sharp bolt of pleasure ripped through his body. He tweaked each of his nipples once more so as to revisit the pleasure.

What the hell was happening to him?

His right hand continued to pull and tweak at his right nipple whilst he reached for his cock which was encased within a pair of matching panties. He pulled it free of the flimsy material and began to stroke his hard on with a fervour. He was lost in a new place of ecstasy when he was suddenly shaken back to his sense.

"And what the hell do you think you are doing?"

Don froze with his right hand still on his nipple and his left wrapped around his hard on.

It was Jane.

"Jane?"

"What the hell are you doing? You should be beyond this by now. You are like a little child. Have you learnt nothing since you've been here?"

Don looked at his wife. A feeling of uncertainty ran over him. Yes, this was his wife. He knew her face, and yet there was something he couldn't quite place. Images clouded his mind. Jane stared at him and Don began to feel uncomfortable. Don tried to look away from her gaze but couldn't manage to do so.

"Well my sweet, are you going to answer me?" Don continued to stare, but his mouth had now taken on a slack jaw stance. Jane walked towards him and picked up the tattered and discarded night wear. "Oh my dear and you always looked so pretty in this."

Always? What did she mean?

"Oh look at you. You're making a mess of your panties. You can hardly stay like that. Not if you're going out. Now can you? I think we need to get you dressed." Jane began to head towards a wardrobe which sat off one of the walls.

"Jane - what's happened to me? Who's done this to me?"

Jane let out a cold laugh. "Oh my sweet, I think it is more what you have done to yourself." Don said nothing. The feeling of unease growing within him. He innocently placed his hands across his well endowed chest and remained seated on the edge of the bed, as Jane, his wife, busied herself selecting items from the racks in the wardrobe. But as he thought about Jane as his wife his mind once again became clouded. An image of his wife dressed in a white coat slapping him across the face. His right hand momentarily reached for his right cheek, before returning to clasp his bosom.

"And what did I do precisely?" Jane did not turn towards Don when she responded.

"Why you persisted in your obsession. You were so insistent on staying her with me that we felt we should reward your wishes by allowing you to stay in Stemford. Obviously for this to happen we had to make some changes. To stay in Stemford you had to be properly suited to your new role and your new life. The good people of Stemford don't believe in hangers on and scroungers. And therefore you had to be appropriately prepared and conditioned to your new life. Obviously the fact that we are still having this kind of conversation and the way you have acted today is proof my sweet that you're conditioning hasn't yet completed. But not to worry Dr Harrison believes that after another visit with some of your friends and an extended spell of visual therapy you will be ready to come home with me. I always find though that the difficult ones tend to work out better in the long term".

"Now these should be about right", Jane said walking back towards the bed. "I think you will look very pretty in these. Before long you will be experienced enough to choose your own outfits. But as we are to meet some friends shortly we can hardly have you choosing something that will be inappropriate".

Inappropriate for what, Don though to himself.

Don watched as Jane laid out the clothes on the bed. The clothes were women's clothes!

"Hey hang on. What's going on here?"

"What's going on is that you have an important appointment and if you don't get a wiggle on you will be late my sweet. "Now hurry up and get dressed." Don remained on the edge of the bed merely staring at the items. "Does my precious little darling need dressing? Rightly you should be waiting on me, but I suppose I can play nursey just one more time" Don didn't respond but watched as Jane began to select certain items from the bed and fuss around him.

"Now my dear on your feet and let's get started. Hmm, I think we'd best get rid of these first of all. How slutty of you to soil your panties." Don stood and Jane drew the panties down Don's legs before he stepped out of them.

His arms will still covering his breasts as Jane placed a white silk basque around his middle. "Oh come on silly, you can't leave your arms there we'll never get this on." Don removed his arms. As Jane came closer to him with the lingerie he felt a tingle of anticipation, but he didn't know why. As Jane began to fix the basque around his torso the feeling of deja vu returned.

"The drugs and surgery have enhanced your figure, but we still have to give nature a helping hand my sweet. Now, breathe in." Drugs what drugs? He wanted to ask, but as soon as one part of him thought about the question another discarded it. Far too serious. At the end of the day if the drugs made him feel good that was all that mattered surely.

Don breathed in and suddenly felt intense pressure on his midriff. Worse was to come when he tried to breathe out. He caught his breathe and suddenly found himself feeling light headed. He began to fall to the ground but Jane slapped him across the face. His previous memory came back to him again. Memories of Jane, and other women, slapping him across the face. Shouting at him. Belittling him. De-humanising him.

Suddenly a part of Don wanted to hit Jane. He struggled with the thought. A pent up anger, not new, building, had been there for a while. How long had he been here? How long had he been like this? What was he becoming? He felt weak, unable to fight back. A fear struck Don and he felt suddenly very scared and alone. He felt his eyes begin to well with tears. "Aw, did I hurt the sissy?" Sissy? Don found the word familiar, almost welcoming. The rhetorical question gained no answer as Jane, his mistress, tied off the corset's laces.

The basque barely contained Don's breasts which were thrust upward by the tightness of the article.

"Now for those lovely legs of yours. Sit on the bed my dear." Don sat on the bed as instructed. His............mistress began to pull the sheer material of the first stocking along his leg. The lightness of the sheer material shimmering against the overhead lights. The sensation of the material against his smooth legs - why were his legs smooth? - electrified other parts of his body and he began to feel his cock twitch and harden once more. By the time his mistress had covered his second leg in nylon his cock was producing pre-cum.

Don was made to stand once more and his mistress attached his stockings to the suspenders which hung from his basque. As each suspender was attached Don felt the basque drag down on his breasts electrifying his nipples and his cock. With the last of the six suspenders attached Don felt encased in a strange sensual world. His cock continued to leak pre cum, a fact which wasn't lost on his mistress.

"Oh my sweet, your excitement really must be controlled. This is not some petty fantasy anymore. This is everyday dressing. You can't go getting wet every time you dress. You will only get to come when instructed in future. Do you understand?" Don nodded. "You will only make a mess on your pretty panties and we'd hate for people to think that you are bigger slut than you already are." He watched as the mistress ran her finger over the end of his cock and lifted off the pre cum before placing the finger into his mouth and placed her finger and thumb over Don's nose. He almost gagged and began to panic. Don sucked at his mistress's finger tasting a familiar taste. A taste he knew. A salty taste. He knew, and liked this taste. Why? He watched as the mistress released his nose and withdrew her finger. She inspected it and noticed that it was clean. "Good girl."

Don's attention was momentarily diverted as he saw his mistress next produce a pair of white silk hi legged panties. Without hesitation Don stepped into the garment before him. The thrill as the material played off against his stocking clad legs making his cock twitch once more, but he remembered his instructions and ensured that his excitement was not transferred to his now reducing member as the panties were brought up his legs.

Don stayed in the same spot but watched as the mistress went back to the bed to fetch another article of clothing. A flower white flower patterned satin summer dress was brought before Don, and once again he stepped into the article knowingly and waited as his mistress zipped him into the satin outfit.

He stood, head bowed, as his mistress gave Don a basic inspection. "Now my sweet, we must heighten your features accordingly if you are to be going out. We must always look our best, we never know who we will be entertaining, and you will be entertaining many people in your new life."

Don was taken towards the vanity table and sat in front of the mirror. He looked up and the face that stared back at him looked vaguely familiar. His hairless face had high cheekbones and his eyeline was well plucked. And he had a lovely head of auburn curls. He gave his head a gentle shake and giggled at the way the curls bounced around his shoulders. He was quite pretty.

After his mistress had applied her professional touch to Don's features he was beside himself with joy at how pretty he looked. Masscara, some foundation and a red lip-gloss had given his features a heightened sense of femininity. He looked back at his reflection. Was this really him? His face powdered and made up, his cleavage bursting out of his bodice top. He felt his cock twitch once again.

"Put these on." It was his mistress's voice. In her hands was a pair of white patent leather four inch stiletto heel shoes. Don looked at the shoes hesitantly for a moment. "Put them on!" His mistress said more firmly. Don did as he was told slipping each of the shoes over his stocking feet.

"Stand up and let me take a look at you." Don did as instructed. He stood as his mistress inspected him thoroughly. "Don't you look pretty? Take a look in the mirror and tell me what you see and think." Don walked to a full mirror which hung off the wall beside the wardrobe and looked at the reflection. The image which reflected back at him was certainly feminine. And that image was him. With its full cleavage and well made up facial features.

"Well? What do you see?"

"I see me."

"And what are you?"

"I'm a woman." Don felt his mistress slap him firmly across his left cheek.

"You are not a woman and will never be a woman. You are not worthy of being a proper woman". His mistress suddenly grabbed a hold of his cock through his dress. "This is why you are not a woman. You are weak. This", she said as she intensified her grip, "proves your weakness. But you are indeed feminine. And so you will remain until the day you die". She released his cock and grasped him by the face instead. Directing his face back to the mirror.

"What do you see?" Tears began to well in Don's eyes. His mind was confused. He wanted so much to please his mistress but did not know how to answer her question.

"What do you see?" The question more forceful this time. Don's mascara was beginning to create little tracks on his cheeks as his tears began to grow in volume.

"A s....ss....ss.....s.........." His tears were now uncontrollable and he began to convulse. Once again his mistress slapped him hard across the right cheek.

"WHAT DO YOU SEE?"

"A.....a.....ss......sissy."

"Who is the sissy?"

"I...I....I am."

"Yes, good girl", the mistress said now stroking Don's face. His mistress walked to the door and inserted a swipe card. An electronic mechanism sounded and the door opened. "Come on Donna, your friends are waiting for you."

Don..na paused for a second, wiping the tears from her eyes, and then turned to the door walking unhindered in the four inch heels. Walking like she had always worn four inch heels. As she walked she swished her rear in a very girlie sexy way. She could feel the draw of the suspenders on her stocking clad legs and the basque straining against the size of her breasts. But she knew she was sexy because she felt very sexy. Very feminine. She walked towards her mistress. Her mistress who knew she must serve because her mistress was powerful and she, Donna, was weak.

Her mistress followed a few steps behind her as Donna walked down a series of corridors until she stopped at one particular door. Without prompting, without directing, she had made her way to this room. Almost as if she had been here many times before.

Her mistress inserted her swipe card and the door opened. Donna's mistress stood to one side and allowed Donna to enter the room. The door closed behind her. She looked around suddenly and noticed that her mistress was no longer there. Donna became scared. She noticed that there were two other women in the room. Donna remained by the door's entrance motionless. A voice came over the speaker system. It was her mistress.

"Donna, your friends are here to play with you. You like to play with your friends. It makes you feel good. Remember?" Donna remained motionless. "Paula has a surprise for you Donna. You like surprises. Why don't you see what Paula has for you?"

A blonde haired woman dressed in a black satin dress stood a few feet before Donna. The woman smiled and Donna walked toward her. "It's so good to see you again Donna." As Donna approached her Paula began to lift her skirt up her nylon clad thighs. By the time Donna was close by Paula, Donna could see the pale of her friend's thighs above the black lace of the stockings. Donna was transfixed by her friend's beauty and by the slight bulge in the front of Paula's black satin panties. That feeling of deja vu and uncertainty came over Donna once more as Donna hesitantly reached forward towards Paula's panties and rested her hand on the bulge.

She looked up into Paula's eyes. Paula smiled back at her and nodded. Donna went to her knees and slowly freed the bulge from its seductive trappings. She moved her head forward and licked the head of Paula's cock with the tip of her tongue. Paula's pre cum aroused Donna's senses, she knew that taste. Not as salty as her own pre cum, but a taste which was very welcoming and familiar.

Donna began to lick along the shaft of Paula's cock, taking a nip at her ball bag before re-tracing her way back to the head of the shaft. Donna inserted the cock into her mouth and began to give one of the many blow jobs that she had given to Paula since Donna's incarceration many months ago. As Donna began to gather pace Paula was finding it harder to remain on her feet and grabbed the back of Donna's head to steady her.

Donna was at a steady pace when she felt a pair of hands on her hips. She removed Paula's cock from her mouth and looked over her shoulder. Behind her stood a tall dark haired woman dressed in a leather halter neck outfit with a large dildo strapped to her waist. The woman positioned Donna so that Donna was on all fours and then lifted Donna's skirt over her hips before lowering her panties. Donna had already returned to savouring Paula's cock by the time the woman entered Donna's anus with the dildo. Donna hardly flinched as the woman placed her hands on Donna's hips and began to rid her hole. Months of anal penetration had widened Donna's sphincter thus increasing her tolerance to pain.

With both her face and anus being rhythmically fucked Donna began to feel her cock stirring but the words of her mistress rang through her mind. Donna knew only to come when her mistress instructed.

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