And When I Return Ch. 02-04

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Rules of Engagement of feminization training established.
2.2k words
4.36
52.9k
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Part 2 of the 12 part series

Updated 10/29/2022
Created 01/11/2015
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sublocked
sublocked
694 Followers

Diane was sipping her coffee, clearing the cobwebs and waiting for her toasted English muffins. The smell of burnt muffin crumbs filled the air with an invisible, not unpleasant scent. The morning sun had not yet reached that side of the house, and the kitchen was cool by summer standards. Sleep had flattened her countenance, made it ordinary, attractive but ordinary, and although there were no ancient hills and valleys on her face, there were signs and traces of their development, like little brooks, dry in the early to mid summer of her life. Though waterless, laughter deepened them spontaneously and frequently. Her fingernails were long and glassy hard, burgundy in color, setting off her tousled and long auburn hair, and they tapped aimlessly on the table. She pulled her housecoat toward her neck.

Fiona busied herself at the sink and counter, but she was notably in a different state of attire, fully made up, with a dark uniform-like dress of faux leather and associated extremely high heels. Her blond hair was short and deliberately thinned, framing her face, an attempt perhaps to hide the fact that her average frame was above average in weight. There was a softness to her that clearly developed through a lack of exercise. The heels seemed to strain with the weight. But she was attractive. At least to Diane, and that's all that mattered.

They had been married now for almost a year, and Fiona had insisted upon being called Diane's slave, as it was her fantasy to be one and to serve. Diane was fine with that and adjusted her role to include orders instead of requests, mild beatings instead of angry admonishment. She was waited upon hand and foot, both domestically and sexually.

Diane's phone lit up and buzzed, vibrating on the table before her. She read Jason's text and smiled.

"He'll be here in an hour," she said to Fiona, "Get out my blackest and meanest corset, match some stockings, and polish the domme boots for me please."

"Yes ma'am," Fiona replied, "And you'll need me to lace the corset up nice and tight?"

"And the boots too, yes. I'll be the woman of his dreams."

They both giggled and Fiona raced away saying, "Here's your muffin. I'll get your stuff ready and wait for you in the bedroom."

Diane smiled and picked up the muffin to take a bite. She ate in silence, planning her day, and in fact, the next two weeks.

CHAPTER 3

The initial excitement rush that he had experienced when he texted Mistress Diane had diminished as he drove into the countryside. The sun was up behind him, and there was mist in the hollows. The density of buildings declined ahead of him as he drove, and a contented monotony descended upon him, thoughtless and calm, and yet with a deep undercurrent of echoing excitement, like faint pepper in a Cabernet.

Orangeville was larger than he had thought, the sign saying almost 30,000 people, and his directions to Mistress Diane's place took him through the centre of the town. He smiled to himself, wondering how many people harbored secrets like his. He stopped at street lights and glanced at others. Was that woman a lesbian? What fetish did that man have? Or could it be that almost everyone else simply thought of sex as a conjugal arrangement within a loving relationship, skin on skin, fantasies only of body parts? He hoped not.

Feeling smug within his secrets, he almost missed the sign on the other side of town: "Amaranth Road, TL Line, right lane". Mistress Diane had said that she lived on an acreage, and now the sidewalks disappeared, replaced by gravel shoulders and ditches with dairy farms scattered about. Three kilometers to go. The road became gravel only, and the dust of it swirled behind him as he searched for the house with two small red barns.

His first impression was one of simplicity. He stopped at the end of the driveway with his heart pounding in his chest. He felt like his life was about to change irreversibly and he wanted a cigarette for the first time in ten years.

"I can't believe I'm fucking doing this!" he said out loud.

His phone vibrated. The text said, "If that is you at the end of the road, come on in. We have fresh coffee for you sweetie."

Jason took a deep breath and drove slowly up the narrow inclined lane, more than a lane actually, as it was paved. There was a large uncluttered lawn at the front of the ranch style house on the left. The barns were not really barns, but out-buildings, each with access to the central paved yard, one with an oversize garage door for vehicles larger than a car. The second was next to, and slightly behind, the house. It did not appear to have any openings to the yard, and no windows either, its function a mystery for now.

He brought the car to a stop near a side door of the large seventies-vintage house, a long single storey house with a six foot high wooden fence running between it and the second "barn".

The door of the house opened and he held his breath as he opened his own door to stand nervously beside the car. There were smells of horses and hay in the air.

CHAPTER 4

Diane and Fiona always got excited when a new trainee arrived. They were both giggling like little girls while peering through the curtains at this latest addition to their stable getting out of his car. He was visibly nervous and his movements were awkward, manlike and direct. But his slight body size, narrow, long hands and narrow face portrayed an enormous feminine promise.

Diane reached the car first and offered her hand, saying, "Jason? It's good to finally meet you after all our secret, disgustingly perverted little visits in chat rooms and texting." She stood back and made the motions of observing his overall demeanor and said, "Initial observations suggest you'll do fine, very fine in fact."

Jason's knees were shaking and the butterflies in his tummy felt like they might burst from his mouth, but he was genuinely gratified by her welcome. She was dressed in a burgundy bath robe, but had knee high black leather boots laced tightly on her legs, an odd combination which begged for answers on what else she was wearing that was hidden. He said, "Great to meet you too." Glancing furtively at various parts of her, he blurted out, "You're very beautiful. Better than your picture." Then he stuttered, "Look, I'm not used to this, at least not away from home, not in front of, not out, umm..."

Diane smiled and interrupted his stammering, "No need to worry with me. I have a stable of people like you who come to visit us regularly. And I don't care whether you're straight or gay, perverted or not. My only concern is to train you to be a woman. Being gay would be easier, but it's not essential. In fact all of my clients are straight."

Almost without taking a breath, she added, "Jason, this is my wife Fiona, and yes she's a woman, and yes we are a lesbian couple. Thought I'd just get that out of the way."

That set him stammering again, "Yes, pleased to meet you Mrs. Uh, Ms. Umm, should I call you Fiona then?"

Fiona looked questioningly at Diane and asked submissively, "Is that okay ma'am?"

Diane laughed and answered, "Of course not! You'll call her ma'am, and you call me ma'am as well, is that clear? I forgot to tell you that Fiona is also my symbolic slave. It's a relationship that we worked out a few years ago and it suits the both of us."

Jason was starting to sweat from awkwardness. This was truly weird.

"All right then, let's get your stuff into your room and then we can get all the rules of engagement established, shall we?"

The girls watched as Jason took two suitcases out of the trunk and then looked at them expectantly, waiting for instructions or directions. They led him in and when they entered the plain side door of the house, Jason was underwhelmed by the décor and feel of the place. The entrance was like a porch, and shoes and boots were lined up on one wall. A broom was in one corner, a shovel in another, and a fly swatter stained by numerous deaths hung by the exit to the main part of the house. The next room was the kitchen, and that's where things changed. It was fully renovated, with granite countertops, ceramic tile floors, and dark mahogany cabinets.

A large window looked out over a large private back yard with numerous large shade trees. A cobblestone walkway twisted and turned throughout, with flower beds and the odd water feature creating an inviting area to escape the heat of the day. The windowless barn was to the right of the view, although he could see a door to that mysterious building now.

The centre of the house was a hallway with a cherry hardwood floor, from which all the rooms emanated. He passed a dining room, living room, and several bedrooms, and perhaps an office on his way. His was the last on the right, a feminine room, pink or rose the dominant colors. In contrast, black and white pictures of dominatrices occupied strategic positions on the walls. There was a simple double bed with a floral quilt, and four steel posts stood from each corner, the purpose of which was unknown to him, as the bed was not attractive in any way.

"Put your bags on the bed and show me all your things." Soon the bed was strewn with male and female attire.

"What's this? What are all these?" she asked (almost yelled) pointing out some pants, male underwear and socks etc. She didn't wait for a reply, continuing, "Fiona, take all this outside and put it in the barn. No male clothes come into this house. Ever."

This caught Jason's attention. "Wait! What? Hey, that only leaves me with my female stuff." And he swept his arm over the bed where all the skirts and blouses and girly underwear lay about.

"And that brings us to this next phase of your stay: the rules," Diane said. "First of all, the instructions are that you'll be either nude or dressed as a woman for the next two weeks. You will call us either "ma'am" or "Mistress Diane" or "Mistress Fiona". You are to be told exactly what you must do and you must obey completely."

Jason listened, slightly puzzled. It almost sounded like she had outside instructions. Was this part of some larger organization that trained men to be feminine? Was there a rulebook?

Diane continued, "After we get acquainted over coffee, we'll come back to your room and get started. Two weeks is a very short time to make the necessary modifications to help you to pass as female, too short actually. You'll need to come back again, but we'll talk about that later. The first thing, of course, will be to get you out of those clothes and immediately feminize your body the best we can."

Once back in the kitchen and seated, Diane began, "You've dreamed of this for a very long time, haven't you?" Not waiting for or expecting an answer, she said, "You're going to get full training to pass as a woman; you're going to be used as a sexual object by me and Fiona; you're going to be immobilized and enclosed by bizarre latex rubber suits. All this, your fetishes, all the time. So what are your thoughts right now?" She smiled comfortably.

She stood up and came closer to him. She caressed his face gently. His breathing became ragged and he smelled leather and perfume. Provocatively, she slowly pulled the bathrobe away from her neck, revealing first her large breasts pushed up mercilessly by leather cups, the tops of her areoles just visible. Further revealing brought his gaze to the corset below the cups. Her waist was pinched tightly and yet she appeared to be comfortable. The robe dropped on the floor as she got up to add some more milk to her coffee.

Jason couldn't help but gasp at her figure and the gorgeous leather corset laced tightly up the back that encased it. His mouth parted slightly as she returned but he was speechless.

She read his thoughts. "Yes," she whispered, "Yes, you'll have the corseting too. It's so tight. You'll like that won't you?"

Jason tilted his head, silenced and adrift in fantasy. "Oh my God! I've never had the guts to buy a corset," he whispered breathlessly.

She stood back from him.

She kept her eyes on his and said with a sultry voice, "Yes, I know. Welcome to the Hotel California. You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave. You know that, don't you? I love that song, and especially those lines."

The quote from the Eagles song had hypnotized him. He pulled his eyes away in submission. And arousal. How had she done that?

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5 Comments
Tootight1Tootight1almost 6 years ago
good so far

She obviously hadn't informed him of her assistant, and to me, that would have been a red flag. I would have thought that the rules would have been established before he committed to spending 2 weeks with them. Another red flag.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 9 years ago
Promising

I await further installments with interest.

thruholewizardthruholewizardabout 9 years ago
More !

ok what is next

PikerwulfPikerwulfabout 9 years ago
How interesting!

I have been to Orangeville many times to visit old Hi School friends and my Godson. Was tickled to read the narative. I swear I could picture the drive in my minds eye. O. The story is beginning to develop nicely too! If you need help with editing/proof reading don't be shy.

kuk4yookuk4yooabout 9 years ago
Ahhh!

Luvved This Sunblocked! Great details. Orangeville. Amaranth Road. Excitement is building. Is there more?

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