tagTranssexuals & CrossdressersInvited to Interview

Invited to Interview

byVramborne©

'You are invited to interview. The Narrows, 7pm, do not be late.

-Master Green and Mistress White'

It didn't say how I should dress. It didn't tell me how I'd know who they were. They'd seen some pictures of me, sure, but I'd always blurred out my face. I sat on my bed staring at the screen in indecision watching the clock tick towards five.

Should I go en femme? That was the big question. I didn't pass, but that wouldn't be a problem at the Narrows. It was a kink-friendly area. I'd be safe between there and my flat. But that word... interview. It was so formal, so resolute. Master Green and Mistress White were not playing around in the kink scene. They were offering me the chance to become their slave and they meant to do it right. If I went en femme like some silly sissy who just wants to play dress up games I could risk losing their interest.

On the other hand if they want a silly sissy and I go there dressed like I'm interviewing to become an assistant manager I could lose their interest even worse. It felt like an impossible bind. I had no way of knowing what they expected. More than once they'd seen me naked, I realised with an electric stirring in my abdomen. They'd never seen my face, but they'd seen me playing with my toys online.

I compromised. Step one, I stripped naked and began to shave off every last scrap of body hair. I'd been blessed with soft, downy hair but I still kept it shaved. A good sissy was as smooth as a girl and I wanted to be a very, very good sissy. As I went I checked myself in the mirror, trying to catch any wayward hair in the light.

Step two, moisturise. I poured moisturiser into my hands and massaged it into my skin. Everywhere needed to be soft, pink and feminine, from head to toe. I massaged it into my toes, one by one, along the lengths of my feet and round my ankle, then up and down my legs until they were smooth as polished glass. Then it was round my clitty and between the folds of my scrotum taking care not to get hard. No sense risking accidents, but it was so difficult not to stiffen against my hand thinking about what lay ahead. Before I could stop myself I had my hands running up and down my clitty, desperate for release. Waves of pleasure built up, rolling heat and electricity emaminating from my clitty. I was so close...

"No!" I slapped my hands down on the bed and fell backwards onto them, holding them down until the waves of desire passed over me. If I was going to pass this interview and become the slave of Master Green and Mistress White I needed to be as desperate and horny as possible. And there was the unthinkable. What if I chickened out? When a silly sissy cums she almost always regrets what she just did. I might blow my one shot at happiness if I blew this load.

I waited until my clitty was soft and girly again and then finished moisturising everywhere I could reach.

I chose a pair of cotton panties for the interview. They were bubblegum pink with an irresistable silk trim and a little bow right above my clitty. I never felt quite so feminine as when I first slipped into a pair of panties. Next I picked up a matching bra and slipped it on. It was only an A-cup and there was nothing there to fill it, but a sissy is a sissy and a sissy must wear her correct underwear. With the right shirt over the top there was no way to know I was wearing it at all.

The last sissy item I put on was a pair of solid black stockings with a satin trim. I rolled them up my soft legs up to my thighs, taking extra care to make sure every seam was straight. With shoes and jeans on no-one would think they were anything but regular socks. But I knew, and the thrill was electric.

Over the top of it all I put on a pair of black trousers and a button-down shirt. After a few moments more indecision I pulled a thin sweater on over that despite the heat. I didn't think you could see the bra straps, but I wanted to be sure.

Now if Master Green and Mistress White were disappointed all they'd need to do was ask and I could rip off my number, unbutton my shirt and slide off my trousers and I'd be an instant sissy slut.

Finally, make up. I leant in close to the mirror and ummed and aahed over how much I could get away with in boys clothes without looking silly. I didn't want to go through all this work into getting the perfect balance and then arrive looking like a painted whore. At the same time I knew if I didn't wear any it'd be as bad as not wearing my panties.

I brushed over my face with some foundation and applied a light blush. With luck, anyone who caught it would think I was just a little out of breath, but those I allowed to get close would see the truth. I slid a stick of mascara and a ruby red lipstick into my pocket. Just in case.

The last thing I did was pull a wig on over my hair. I always kept my hair short. It was easier than waiting for it to grow out. The stupid sticky-uppy blond hair disappeared for a beautiful brunette bob. It was not so feminine as to turn me into a girl on its own so it didn't ruin the male facade I had put on over my girly sissy self, but this was the wig I wore in most of my pictures. This was the hair Master Green and Mistress White knew. If they were going to recognise me in the Narrows, I'd need something the same as the photographs.

Standing back from the mirror and checking myself over it didn't look too bad. With the proper trousers and button down shirt it was formal enough to suggest I was taking the interview seriously, but the wig and the makeup set me a little bit androgynous. And with my hidden secrets, I squirmed with pleasure; I could be their sissy slut in seconds of asking.

And not a moment too soon, I gulped as I checked the time. I slid into a pair of shoes, grabbed my keys, and fled towards the narrows as fast as I could.

*****

I pushed my way into the Narrows. The bar was crowded. The heat of the summer had got into the crowd and everywhere I looked I could see flesh. Men unbuttoned their shirts; women bared their taut tummies and wore their scantiest shorts they could get away with. I found myself wishing I could join them. Rip off my shirt and my stupid sweater and men's trousers and go join them.

But no, I had to find Master Green and Mistress White. How I could find two people I'd never met before in a crowd like this I had no idea but I had to try.

"This way, sissy." A heavy hand dropped onto my shoulder and steered me towards a booth in the corner of the bar. I looked up, and further up, and further up. The man steering me had to be at least two metres tall. I felt myself go weak at the knees realising how with just three little words he had taken complete possession of me and led me through the crowd. Was this Master Green?

As we approached the booth I felt the pressure of his fingers increase on my shoulder. I slid into the booth seat. The man sat down opposite me. The table was so small and he was so tall his legs slid up against mine, sending sparks running up and down my spine. The man was a god. He had cheekbones I could hang clothes off, a dimpled chin and sharp, grey eyes. His hair was brown and longer than I expected, but not long. It reminded me of the dashing television stars that had saved the day back in the seventies. He wore a white shirt with thin blue lines running up and down it. He'd rolled the sleeves up in the heat to show off his muscular forearms and the top buttons of his shirt hung loose. I couldn't help but lick my lips at the thought of this man.

"Five minutes early," he noted, checking a chunky wristwatch. "Fifteen would have been better."

"I'm sorry.... Master Green." Master Green ignored my apology and made no effort to correct me. My heart skipped a beat. Mistress White could be a bitchy four-hundred pound land-whale and I'd still want to be her slave if it meant I got to make love to this god on Earth. Master Green turned his head to the bar and began to move around the table, his legs stroking against mine as he moved. I turned to follow his gaze.

A woman all in black was approaching the table carrying a wine bottle and three glasses. She had a river of black hair that almost seemed to flow into her black dress. Despite the heat her dress sleeves carried all the way down to her wrists and ankles but it was slashed to the thigh. Her skin was creamy white and almost seemed to shine out from the slash in her dress. As she settled into the booth I could see her nails, long, perfect ovals coated with thick, pitch black varnish. Her lips were plump and painted black, and her eyes were smoking. She could have walked out of a black and white movie. I'd guess she was maybe ten years older than me, but her skin was so smooth and white and perfect she could say she just turned twenty and I wouldn't doubt her.

"Mistress White?" I asked.

"Not such a dumb sissy," She pushed a wine glass towards me and filled it with a heavy red. She poured a glass for herself and Master White as well. "Drink." She ordered. The word seemed to echo around my head and down into my spine. My hand moved of its own accord, before my brain had a chance to realise how stupid I was being. I stopped the glass at my lips and stared at Mistress White. "There's nothing wrong with it, sissy," Mistress White rolled her eyes and drank deeply from her own glass. "See? Now drink."

I sipped at the wine. It was thick and sweet, and the alcohol felt so warm as it ran down my throat.

"This interview is to ascertain our compatibility," Master Green said, inspecting his wine against the light. He sipped it like a Victorian gentleman. "Mistress White and I do not believe in simply playing this game. We do not want a play partner. We want a slave." He turned his eyes on me. "We want you." My clitty stirred with desire. "But we're not going to look before we leap. For this conversation, you, Mistress White and I are equals. You are not going to act as if you are already our slave, and you are not going to lie. You are going to be truthful, and honest, and above all, you are going to be yourself. Is that understood?"

"Yes Master Green."

"As I said, for this conversation we are equals," Master Green couldn't hide the disappointment from his voice.

"Sorry, I just... I... OK." I looked down at the ground, my cheeks blazing with embarrassment. To try and hide it I took a gulp of wine. Anything to avoid thinking.

"Let's explain just what we mean by slave," Mistress White reached across the table and took my hand in hers. Her skin felt so soft I could almost imagine my stupid male hands falling through her soft, silky fingers. "If you are successful and become our slave, you will cook for us, you will clean for us and you will service us sexually. You'll suck cock and eat pussy, you'll take it in the ass from both of us, and if you're a good girl we'll let you squirt. For our part, we'll keep a roof over your head, keep you fed and clothed, and we'll help you become the girl you were always meant to be. Is that something you would like?"

"That... that would be like a dream," I smiled and I hoped Mistress White thought it was sweet.

"Think it through carefully," Master Green warned. "You would be our slave. This would not be a game that ends once we're all spent. You will have no freedom save what we give you. You will have no luxury save what we give you. You will have no clothes save what we give you. This will be your life until you die. Is that what you want?"

"It's all I've ever wanted," I said. "For years, all I've ever wanted was to be told what to do. To be told what to do and to do it well." Master Green's hard grey eyes were impossible to understand. They were like staring into deep space. "And I want to make people happy. I don't want it to just be some weekend hobby in between days at the office. I don't want it to fade as I get older. I want to serve for life."

Master Green grunted and rested his chin against his fist. I couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not. Mistress White squeezed my hand.

"How old are you sweetie?"

"Twenty-one."

"And what's your name? Your birth name?" Mistress White's lips parted into a smile I couldn't say no to.

"Daniel," I said and shivered with shame. "I didn't want you to know that. I... I want to be Susan. I wanted you to always know me as Susan."

"Don't worry, you'll always be Suzie to us, sissy," Mistress White patted my hand and then let go. She leaned in conspiratorially. "Now tell me, is your clitty safely locked away?"

"No," I shook my head.

"Naughty girl," Mistress White wagged her finger. "You can believe that'll change."

"Have you served a master or mistress before?" Master Green cut in.

"I served Mistress Kathleen for six months," I said. Master Green's eyes turned to Mistress White. She shook her head almost imperceptibly.

"We don't know Mistress Kathleen."

"She is... she was my girlfriend," I said and brought my hands around the wine glass. I looked down at my fingers. They were stupid and male. I didn't even give them a clear coat before I came out. I was such a stupid sissy. "She helped me find Susan inside me. She made me realise I was born to serve."

"And when did she release you from her service?"

"She told me to get bent about a month ago," I said and tried to smile. "Mistress Kathleen... she didn't want to be my mistress full time. I think... I think she got a little scared by how much I craved her control."

"Have you ever been fucked in the asshole?" Master Green's question seemed to come from nowhere, said in the same level voice as if he asked about the weather.

"Er... Mistress Kathleen would make me take a strap on. I've never had the honour of having a man... enter me."

"Did you cum?"

"No. I never learnt to cum from my ass."

"More likely your young mistress always took pity on you and let you fuck her the old fashioned way."

"No, Susan was never allowed to make love to Mistress Kathleen," I trembled. "Susan was never even allowed to think about it."

"Hmm, perhaps she was less useless than I thought," Master Green turned away, staring into the middle distance and sipped his wine.

"Are you properly dressed under that shirt?" Mistress White asked, pointing at my chest.

"Yes. I only go out without a bra if I think-"

"Well let's see it then," Mistress White kicked me gently.

"What?"

"Do you expect me to take your word for it? Take off your top!" Mistress White insisted. It was like when she ordered me to drink, the firm voice of command. I couldn't disobey. I reached down to the edges of my shirt and thin sweater and rolled it up.

"All the way off, sissy." Master Green's voice alone could have made me orgasm. He wasn't even looking at me, but knew I was going to try and escape without taking the shirt off.

With a pull I lifted the shirt up over my head, pulled my arms out of it and bundled it up into a ball on my tummy. I shrank around it.

"Ooh," Mistress White's excitement at seeing my bra made me smile but I flinched as Mr Green's big hands reached down to my shirt. I felt powerless to stop him pluck it out of my hands and take it away.

"Sit up straight," he ordered. "Be proud of what you are."

I straightened my back, pushed my shoulders back and stuck out my chest. I felt like such a joke. Such a stupid fucking sissy, surrounded by all these young, attractive heteros who were about to burst into laughter at any second.

No-one laughed. No-one cared. Some people looked. I could feel their eyes like hot laser points running over my skin but... but no-one cared. I was in a bra in public and no-one cared.

"Very nice," Mistress White smiled showing off her startlingly white teeth. "The pink silk is a nice touch. Oh Suzie, you were born to be a sissy." Her eyes ran over me like a tiger eyeing up an antelope. They lowered to below the table. "And I assume a good girl like you is properly attired below?"

"Stockings and panties mm," I struggled to restrain myself from calling her mistress. They'd won. I could feel they had won. I was theirs already. I reached a hand towards my fly.

"Relax Suzie, I'm not going to ask you to strip down to your panties here," Mistress White waved her hand and laughed. "No matter how hot you would look sitting there in panties and stockings like a whore."

I shivered with pleasure at her suggestion.

"What is your plan if we decide not to take you on as a slave?" Master Green's question tore the world out from under me.

"I... er... well... I studied archaeology at university," I stammered. "I'd... I'd probably try to get a Masters or a research position."

"Would that be Daniel, or Susan?" It felt like pure ice was streaming out of Master Green's eyes. Had I already failed him?

"Daniel... probably. I... I haven't come out to my parents and I am not sure I actually... I..." I struggled to put into words the feeling deep down in my soul. "I'm not Daniel, but I'm not a woman either. I'm a sissy. Sissies don't become archaeologists, they become slaves."

Master Green smiled. It was like the sun came out. The ice in his eyes melted instantly, and suddenly seemed as warm as a summer's sky. As if reward for passing the test, he pushed my shirt back into my arms. I pulled the shirt on, but left the sweater sitting on the table. If people saw the bra straps, who cares, they'd seen the bra itself.

"Have you ever kissed a man?" Mistress White asked.

"No."

"Do you want to?"

"Of course."

"See that guy?" Mistress White pointed to one of the barmen who was walking around collecting glasses. He was a little taller than me, but not tall, with dark curly brown hair and a thick dark goatee. "He's been sneaking peaks at you since you took your shirt off. Oh, he sneaks peaks at the cleavage around him, but he keeps looking at you. He wants you." She stroked my leg with her foot and then kicked it gently. "Go and beg him for a kiss."

"What?"

"Go on. Cross that threshold. You want to kiss a man, and there's a man who wants you. Go beg him for a kiss."

My eyes flashed from Mistress White to Master Green. They both wanted me to do this. They wanted to watch their slave go kiss another man. I could feel it. I could feel it in my bones that this was the final test. If I did this, I'd be theirs, forever and ever. Daniel could be dead and buried and Sissy Susan would live eternal in their service.

I plucked up my courage, steeled myself and lifted the wine glass to drain it. Master Green stopped me with just one finger.

"Courage comes from within," he said. "Go get your kiss."

I slid out of the booth and walked over to the barman. I tried to put a little sway into my hips. I tried to curl my hair around my finger. I licked my lips and tried to look as seductive as possible. I could only imagine how stupid I looked, but I was a stupid sissy slut.

"Hey there," I leant against the barman as he leant down to pick up the empty glasses. His muscles were like iron rods under his clothes.

"Er, hey," the barman picked up all the glasses and dumped them in his tray. He tried to move away from me, but I followed him as if I was stuck in his orbit.

"We caught you, you know," I said. This time as I brushed against him I helped him pick up the glasses. "Peeping at me."

"I wasn't peeping," he paused in picking up the glasses as his brain tried to find a good excuse. "I was-"

"Oh, I don't mind," I reached out my hand towards the last glass just as he did. My hand landed on his. "In fact, it was... it was kinda sexy."

"Look, what do you want?" the barman pulled his hand away from mine. His eyes looked around at the crowd. He was embarrassed, but it was obvious this was what he wanted. He wanted me the same way Master Green wanted me. This little barman wanted a sissy slut at his feet.

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