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"Don't worry, my dear, it's just a little speech therapy, that's all. You should be proud to be such a fast learner. Now, as for that punishment..." My heart stopped. I was tied to a chair in a room with a mysterious stranger that could make me a foreigner in my sleep. I was on the verge of tears imagining what he could do to me while I was awake. I was helpless, but strangely, not hopeless. Stupidly, I hoped for another miracle...maybe he would decide I didn't have to be punished...but of course that was a futile hope...or so I thought. "Now you don't have to be punished. It's really up to you. Here at the Harrow House, we pride ourselves in only training the perfect sissies, and no amount of drugs, surgery, or hypnosis can make a perfect sissy if she doesn't want to put in the effort. So, Belle, the question you have to ask yourself is, do I want to be a perfect sissy? If you do, go to room 101 after this and accept your punishment. If not, go take a nap until you hear the next bell signaling the start of your maid duties. The decision is entirely yours."
The moment he finished talking my bonds snapped open. I told myself it was a remote controlled latch, but I wasn't convinced. I didn't even have the courage to turn around, too afraid of what I'd see, or worse, wouldn't. I heard his voice so clearly, I would have hated to find there was no one there. Instead I bolted out of the room and down the hall, running anywhere as long as it was away from that voice. I was already half way there before I noticed I was running towards room 101. What was I thinking? I didn't want to be punished...did I? Of course I didn't...but I did want to be the perfect sissy...so I found myself tentatively knocking on the door to room 101, cursing my conscience and their cruel games, terrified of what I'd see when I opened the door...trying to tell myself it couldn't possible be as bad as I imagined it would be. I was wrong...it was worse...
"Belle, it's a pleasure to see you. Both because we've been apart to long and because I'm proud to see you finally taking responsibility for your mistakes. We'll make a good sissy slave out of you yet." I was speechless, staring in shock at my step-brother, Darius, as cold and cruel as Dirk was passionate and selfish. His sharp features accentuated his cold, piercing stare, only his burning red hair gave any hint of warmth, and even that was cut close to his scalp. He towered over me as the tallest member of his family, and with me only a little over five feet, he cut quite the imposing figure. I looked away, hoping to find something less terrifying to look at, but all I saw were walls lines with all manner of torture devices. Spiked paddles, whips, chastity devices, and in the corner, a portable generator with prongs for electrocuting naughty little sissies. Once I saw that my heart sunk...I knew without a doubt, that would be the punishment he chose. I wanted to be brave, wanted to be a good gurl and take my punishment, but I couldn't stop from blubbering, "I'm suh suh sorry! Puh puh please forgive me!"
Darius wore an expression between mock concern and boredom. "But of course you're sorry, Belle, otherwise you wouldn't have volunteered for punishment. Only, and I'm sure this isn't the case, I hope you don't think an apology is currency you can use to buy your way out of punishment. Because as a slave, you don't have any currency, any control, the only real choice you have is how hard you're willing to work to surrender completely...what you're willing to sacrifice to be the perfect slave." The guilt grew more and more vicious as his words sank into me, and the more my shame fed, the hungrier it got. It got to the point that punishment seemed like the easy way out compared to living with the hollow hurt of knowing I was a failure as a sissy. "In fact, since this is your first time being disciplined, I'm going to let you pick what device I use to serve your just desserts. I promise I will use whatever you select, and I won't administer it more harshly if you choose the easy way out."
This was the cruelest cut. Not only did they let me choose to be tortured or to 'get away with' only being eaten alive by guilt, now he was forcing me to pick the my own poison. It was like he said, it wasn't a real choice. I had no control over what I picked. I could either pick something slightly less diabolical and suffer the sting of shame and being racked by regret...or I could pick the most painful punishment possible and work my hardest to surrender completely. So it was with no small amount of pride, and an even greater sense of abject terror, that I wheeled the electroshock device over to the middle of the room right next to a table adorned with leather restraints. "Pleez, Monsieur Darius, pleez punish me with zis."
His eyes lit up ever so slightly, a firefly at the bottom of a deep, dry well. "I have to admit...I'm not sure what to say. Here I had this whole speech prepared about how you are only cheating yourself by picking the smallest paddle on the wall. It was on the tip of my tongue...I practically tripped on it. But you picked out the worst of the worst. I can't use that just for being tardy to one lesson...it's just not proportional." I went through a whole gamut of emotions. I was beaming with pride to see him stunned speechless...I was horrified to think of how awful it must be if even HE thought it was too much...but most of all, I was ashamed that I was getting away with all the sins he didn't know about.
"Buh buh but, zere was more. I was also late to ze gym. And last night, I came weezout permission...so meeny times I experience zee petit de morte, even weeth Monsieur Dirk. Pleez, punish me weeth the worst you have." Confessions fell from my lips like lead weights, leaving me feeling relieved, but hollow...it was soon filled with an oppressive dread...
"Well..." any spark in him fizzled out as his tone went ice cold, "I'd say you deserve this after all. Get on the table, once this current runs through you, you'll be hopping like a frog on fire. So let's get you tied down so you won't break your cute little neck." I got up on the table and laid down with all the enthusiasm of an autopsy patient. Darius strapped me down tight, the leather biting into my soft, sensitive skin, the minor pain serving as a portent of things to come. If a little discomfort was so difficult for a spoiled sissy like me to endure, then how would I endure actual torture? "Electroshock therapy has been used since the 1930s to treat severe depression. It's said to create a sensation of euphoria after the current completes its circuit through the nervous system. Of course, it is usually administered to an anesthetized patient, so that might not happen in your case." Darius had the professional demeanor of Dr Kevorkian, and I didn't bother trying to look for compassion or mercy in his eyes as he applied the electrodes to my forehead. He told me once that he was the kindest Master in the Harrow House...that he gave us what we would never dream of asking for, but what we desperately needed. I wondered if this was what he had in mind...and then I realized it was exactly what he had in mind. The machine came to life with a steady hum, that must be what the demons hummed in Hell.
"Since this is your first time being punished, I'll keep the voltage relatively low. And I'll only shock you three times. But don't you dare beg me to stop. This isn't the worst I can do to you, not by far. This is just the worst thing you can imagine...and if you live your entire life without learning what I can imagine, you can die happy." I nodded mutely, biting down on the rubber bit he put in my mouth so I wouldn't chew my tongue off. I closed my eyes and tried to think happy thoughts...
"GUH UH GRRGLE BHHH!" My blood was replaced by hellfire as the current ran through me. My body trashed against the straps as if trying desperately to escape the pain inside it...and I didn't blame it. Nothing I had felt before had prepared me for this...this was PAIN...real PAIN...the kind the brain draws inspiration from when processing minor inconveniences like being grudge fucked without lube...this was pure, undiluted...perfect. But unlike most perfect moments, it seemed all too permanent. Even after the machine returned to its low hum, I could feel the fire pumping in my veins, each breath taking fresh agony into my lungs and breathing out jagged despair. Still...I didn't beg, but I'm not sure if that's just because I was in too much pain to speak...
"GAAAAH UURRRH FGGHH EEEEEEE!" I hoped that wasn't electrocutedese for 'please stop', but if it was, then apparently Darius wasn't fluent. At least it wasn't worse than before, but that's like being in the shallow end of the Lake of Fire. Reality warped and time wrapped around me, closing in on me and holding me down. The PAIN just wouldn't end, and it started to feel like it had no beginning either. I couldn't remember what not being in excruciating, thrashing torment felt like...and I was convinced I never would. This really was Hell, they just took their time warming up my room...
Reality came back to me in gasps, then sobs...when the PAIN finally started to sweat out of me, leaving only a heavy hurt that covered me in a warm blanket, I began crying...tears of joy...tears of relief. I'd made it, I had been delivered from Hell...and one day, maybe a decade from then, maybe I'd even be able to feel good again. But anything less than that pristine Pain was practically hedonistic pleasure in comparison. Then my brain stitched itself back together and remembered how to count..."Well that's two...and I have to say, I didn't think you'd make it past one. I was looking forward to seeing the look on your face when you found out what hurts worse than this...but I suppose this is a pleasant disappointment. I tell you what...as a reward, I'll let you skip the last jolt if you think you've been punished enough."
Just when I thought I'd finally seen the depths of Darius' inhumanity, he found a way to go lower...making me choose whether I'd take one more trip to Hell or live in sin instead. My brain was recovering rapidly, screaming an articulate treatise on the benefits of not being electrocuted...but my conscience was whispering unintelligibly, telling me I'd regret it until the end of my days...that I was only cheating myself. I closed my eyes and saw Isabella smiling down on me, she was so proud of me for being strong, and I was so close..."Oui, Isabella, un more time..."
A cleansing fire...the flaming sword of an archangel, cutting me down...burning me to a cinder...but after an eternity of PAIN...I felt a different kind of fire. It wasn't destructive, it was alive, pulsing...a womb...I rose from it like a phoenix, my wings unfettered from the weight of my guilt...I soared. Flying closer and closer to the welcoming warmth of the sun...closer to the angel hiding behind my eyes...my Isabella...when I finally opened them...I was in Darius' arms. He was brushing my matted hair from my scalp and telling me how proud he was of me. "the bloody nose. When I saw that, I knew...there was hope for you yet. But this...it's too early to say...but in my professional opinion, you could become a perfect sissy."
"Thank you, Monsieur Darius. I leev to pleez." I beamed up at him, feeling a bit of that euphoria he mentioned earlier. For a moment, I allowed myself to believe he was telling the truth, that he only wanted what was best for me, that I could become the perfect sissy. But then I looked into his eyes, and I remembered that he didn't care what happened to me, as long as he got to see me squirm. I flinched at his caress, recoiling from the tender fingers that turned the knob on the electroshock machine. A slight smile flickered on his face...he got what he wanted from me...the flinch...
"Well...I'd better untie you so you can get dressed and get ready for work. We don't want you being late again, now do we?" Darius undid the straps and I slid off the table standing on stiff, barely responsive legs. I made my way to the door each step I took a little easier than the last, my muscles starting to relax...more importantly, each step was a step further away from Darius. I wasn't sure whether he wanted me to believe he was trying to make me into the best sissy I could be and just couldn't help but terrify me, or if he was trying to terrify me and making me the best sissy I could be was a happy accident. Either way, I was grateful for the lesson, mostly because I learned never to have another one. Still...a nagging part of me told me I'd come crawling back if I was a bad little sissy again. It was better than the guilt...and it was the only way to stay on Isabella's good graces...
I ran back to the shower and blasted myself with ice cold water, not even waiting for it to warm up. I shivered under the steady stream, but I was glad for the incentive to soap up and scrub off all my my sweat in a hurry. Besides, it reduced the temptation to spend time I didn't have 'thoroughly cleaning' my more sensitive dirty bits. Instead, I cleaned up, dried off, and tore off to the sissy wardrobe room at record speed. I was out of breath by the time I made it, but this time I didn't let that stop me. I wasn't going to be late this time. I was going to get dressed, go upstairs and be the best little sissy maid they had ever seen. And no one was going to stop me..."Ooh just the sissy I was looking for. I was hoping I could make squirties before going upstairs to pway."...except maybe Bambi.
"Pleez, Bambi..." I saw her cherubic features grow positively demonic and I remembered my place, "I mean Miz'ress Bambi...oops...I mean Maman." As if some one pulled a string, her face snapped back to her usual empty smile. "Please, I can't be late to work. I just want to get dressed and go. Pleez, I promeez to make it up later, just pleez let me go."
"EE! You sound so kewt! I've got my very own widdle French dolly!" After her initial giddiness, I saw Bambi thinking over my simple request with the intensity you'd expect for a zen koan. You could practically hear gears grinding until she finally came back with, "Tell you what...I'll fuck you, AND help you get dressed. Cuz let's be rilly rill, without me you won't find diddly poo." She had a point...the so called Wardrobe Room was more like a warehouse of uniforms, outfits, lingerie, and accessories. Row after row of racks filled with hanging plastic bags and underneath them, labeled cabinets. With Bambi's hair trigger cum reflex it would be quicker than looking for it myself, and it would give me an opportunity to prove I could hold off from cumming before my Master...or Mistress...or Mommy did.
"Alright but..." I didn't get time to finish my caveat before Bambi took me by the arm and dragged me down the rows until she got to row 'M' for Maid and walked down to 'F' for French. She fumbled with a few bags and finally took one down marked 'X'...I was already regretting letting her pick my outfit...
I put on the ruffled belt...the white lace tickling the top of my ass and the black silk soft on my hands...and then I realized it wasn't a belt...it was a skirt. Bambi giggled as she handed me some panties to cover my almost completely exposed ass...it was a thong of course, black silk hugged my smooth balls and hard little clit as I pulled them on, the back riding up my ass, nestled frustratingly between my ample cheeks. My legs were a little more dressed...I slid up thigh high silk stockings, black with white ruffles at the top, which looked rather fetching in my stilettos. It was strange, I had been walking around naked this entire time, but the moment I put clothes on, I started feeling exposed...and I liked it. Teasing glimpses of flesh were even more alluring than the unwrapped package. Bambi helped me into a matching corset, tying the strings so tight I could barely breath...but it was worth it to look breathtaking. It was overwhelming, ever layer I added accentuated my transformation. Before when I wore an outfit like this it was kinky, like a game of dirty dress up. But now, it was like they were a second skin, like they where more me than I was...the me I was wanted the be...the me I was becoming. And I looked very becoming in the peasant blouse, cut just low enough to see the tops of my nipples. My outfit was completed with a dainty little bonnet nestled in my flowing blond hair, and I felt complete...whole. I was a little relieved that Bambi wanted some quickie action after all...I needed some relief...
Apparently Bambi needed release just as badly...she pounced on me leaving a trail of lusty giggles as she tackled me to the floor, covering my face in soft kisses. I was already starting to squirm, her teasing left me tingling all the way down to my toes. I moaned wetly, which she took as an invitation to dart her tongue in and out of my mouth quickly, flicking the tip of my tongue of with hers. She lifted her skirt tickling my thighs as she spread my legs and lined her clit up with my sissy hole. I thought I might drown in softness, or go mad as I was tortured with tickles...when Bambi finally gave me something hard..."giggle I can't tell you how ha ha happy I am to finally have a Fwench Maid to pway with." I was getting a good idea, what with her rapid, rabbity thrusts and giggly grunts...
The good news was I didn't have to worry about cumming first...Bambi cooed as she filled me with her sissy spunk...that was also the bad news. I also didn't have to worry about being late she even had time to cuddle into me and snuggle for a few minutes...I stroked her bright pink hair as I marveled that this delicate creature made me her bitch. She wasn't really such a bad gurl...just a bit of brat. The blare of the alarm cut through the fog and sent us scurrying off to our next appointments. She giggled as she bounced away, but I was too nervous to laugh. I ran as fast as I could down the winding corridors, wondering how I knew where to go, how I even knew what the alarms meant for me, and Bambi knew where they were signaling her to go.
I saw the hanging cages in the foyer as I approached the door, and I shivered, knowing it was only a matter of time before I'd be locked in one, on display for the customers. But I pushed it out of my head...I had more important things to worry about. Like, what exactly was a sissy maid supposed to do? After all, none of the other sissies had real jobs. They were just window dressing. They didn't really expect me to clean did they? In this outfit?
Whatever they had planned, it had to be better than the basement, I longed for the natural light and familiar feel of my former home...I opened the door and made my way up only to find my old butler...and I mean old...waiting for me. One look at Jeeves' stern face and I knew I was in for trouble. I tried to be friendly, "Bonjour, Jeeves, eet is good to see you again. I look forward to working wiz you." But I guess we were never friends to begin with...
"Don't you, 'bonjour me', you faux French fop! And don't call me Jeeves! My name is Percival, you never bothered to learn it when you were Master of the house, but now that you're just another sissy slave, you will call me SIR! And one more thing you better get crystal clear. You work for FOR me, not 'wiz' me!" I'd never seen Jeeves...I mean Percival...I mean Sir so angry. Then again, I barely ever saw him back when I lived upstairs. I considered the servants beneath me, and the only time I paid them any mind was when I wanted them to complete some menial task I was too lazy to do myself. I guess it didn't endear me to the staff...and now I was beneath them...the thought was a little frightening...and frighteningly exciting. The thrill soon wore off..."Now don't think this is some kinky game. I had to let one of my best cleaners go because they figured they could save money by making you clean. She had two kids. I hope your sick little sex kicks are worth putting her out of work."
