Made Into His Girl

Chapter 1

"Well done, ladies." I liked to end each day in the Evening and After Six department at Harvey Nichols on an upbeat note. Sales hadn't gone especially well for a Thursday but the shop floor assistants never took well to criticism, especially Mrs Robinson -- who had made it very clear that even though I was assistant manager I was not to call her Janet. I supposed that was fair, Mrs Robinson was in her forties and it must grate to have to answer to someone twenty years her junior. The other two, Sarah and Jill, treated me with a little more respect. Something I expected a lot more of when I was promoted to manager now that Samantha Cox had moved on to bigger and better things.

"Bye, Luke!" Jill waved on her way out. We'd been an item for a few weeks. It hadn't lasted but we finished as friends. At twenty-four I'd had only had a handful of girlfriends and all of those relationships had fizzled out, much like the one with Jill had. The passion swiftly spent and replaced by something more comfortable but insufficient to keep a young woman's interest.

The assistants left me to close up the department and turn off the till. I always enjoyed this time of day when the great department store emptied. The security guards would make their rounds soon and the cleaners had already started on the ground floor. But for a good quarter of an hour I'd be alone among the rows of hangers, all of them glittering with cocktail dresses and evening gowns, ranging from the expensive to the eye-watering. There was no Primark mass-selling here. The assistants offered one-on-one advice in cultured tones, attempting to persuade rich women to part with small fortunes in order to walk out with an armful of taffeta and lace, gold lamé, silk, satin, and/or sequins with the name of an appropriately upmarket designer on the label.

I liked to wander among the dresses. Sometimes in the blind spot where CCTV couldn't quite reach I'd hold a gown against myself and imagine how it might fit. At five foot eight I was below average height for a man and above average height for a woman. Being naturally slim I always felt that I'd actually do a better job of wearing the clothes we sold than most of the women who ended up buying them.

I ran my hands over a classic little black dress. With the right accessories and some lacy black underwear it would serve in most circumstances. Especially if the girl wearing it looked like she'd been poured into it.

"Luke, right?" A man's voice behind me.

I dropped the dress guiltily and spun round. "Uh..."

"Jake." The tall, dark haired man held out his hand. His jacket couldn't hide the broad shoulders and wide chest underneath. "Jake Sullivan. They told me I might find you here."

"They?" I had no idea what was going on and found the man's intense, dark-eyed stare disconcerting. I took his outstretched hand and shook it. There seemed nothing else to do.

"Samantha, actually." He had one of those firm, alpha male handshakes. "Samantha was the one who told me where to find you. I'm the new manager."

"Oh." I extricated myself from his grip. "The new--" I'd been so certain I would just move up into Samantha's place. I'd thought the fact that nobody even mentioned it meant they weren't interviewing. The truth seemed to be that I'd not even been considered. Too young, I thought bitterly. But this Jake Sullivan was younger than Samantha. Mid-thirties at most, and I couldn't help resenting him immediately with his handsome confidence and white smile. I very much doubted he knew one end of a cocktail dress from the other though.

"Awkward." Jake smiled knowingly. "Nobody told you, huh?"

I shook my head, numbly. I still could really believe they hadn't even told me.

"Sorry about that." Jake clapped a hand to my shoulder. "Come get a drink with me. Let's smooth this over. What do you say? Start off on the right foot."

"Uh..." It was the last thing I wanted but there seemed no graceful way to refuse.

"That's sorted then." And Jake steered me towards the exit. One of those annoyingly take-charge types that always seemed to fill management roles. And as so often in my life I let myself be steered.

Chapter 2

Traffic was the curse of London, even this far into the congestion charge zone. On the other hand one of the blessings was that you never really needed a car. Jake chatted easily about his recent move from Harrods as he led the way across the high street away from Knightsbridge tube station and Hyde Park to what appeared to be an exclusive little pub that I'd never noticed, nestled at the feet of a grand terrace. It even had a doorman!

The dim interior was cosy and seemed to be a cross between wine bar and traditional pub, with the music turned down to a level at which quiet conversations could be enjoyed. I noted that the place was mostly occupied by well-dressed couples, many of them older than either of us.

"Grab a seat." Jake nodded to an empty niche in the corner. "I'll get the drinks in."

I went and sat behind the small table Jake had indicated. I watched him at the bar and admired the cut of his suit, clearly tailored to his athletic frame. A couple in the booth opposite drew my attention. Roxy Music's Avalon was playing softly in the background and the pair were holding hands, deep in each other's eyes, a young woman and an older man. Though now I looked closely, I was no longer entirely sure that the young woman really was a woman at all. Unlike most of the clientele she was in jeans and a T-shirt, sporting a nose ring and yellow nail varnish while her partner was in shirt and tie. It was just something about her, no single thing I could put my finger on, just a combination: something about her throat, shoulders, short hair... There wasn't any doubt about the couple in the next booth though, the two men had just kissed.

"Enjoying the view?" Jake smiled and set down our drinks: his a Stella Artois in a tall glass, and a glass of red wine that he placed before me though I hadn't even said what I wanted.

Suddenly my heart began to pound. Did Jake think I was gay? Was my new boss hitting on me? I didn't know if I should say something or if I'd just misunderstood the situation entirely.

"Relax." Jake sat opposite me with another easy smile.

I reached for the wine I hadn't asked for and sipped. Mainly so I didn't have to say anything. I wasn't gay. Though people often assumed I was -- working in the Evening and After Six department selling dresses didn't help with that.

I wasn't gay. I'd gone to a boys-only school so I'd been a late starter with girls. There'd been that time on the school ski trip when my best friend and I had held each other's stiff little cocks in bed. But we'd been thirteen and it hadn't meant anything, even if I did still masturbate to the memory a few times every month.

Jake took a swig of his lager and looked at me expectantly.

"I..."My mouth was dry even after the wine. And despite the denial I was trying to utter, I could feel an unwelcome tightness in my Y-fronts. The last thing I needed now was an inappropriate erection. "I'm not..."

"Not what?" A tall, elegant woman sat herself beside me, seeming to appear from nowhere. She was blonde, long hair tumbling over bare shoulders, beautifully made up, full breasts straining the capacity of a little black dress rather similar to the one I'd been handling when Jake first found me.

"I..." I met her blue eyes and discovered I couldn't stammer out even a single word.

"Leave the poor boy alone, Sissy." Jake laughed. "Luke, this is my sister, Sissy. I was meeting her here anyway. Sissy, meet Luke."

"Pleased to meet you, Ms Sullivan." I found my voice and immediately regretted sounding so formal.

"Mrs." Sissy smiled and held out her hand to display a gold wedding band. "Six months now. Mrs Small. I haven't got tired of saying it yet." She grinned and exchanged a playful look with her brother. "And you're Luke Lacey. Jake's told me so much about you."

"He has?" I glanced at Jake, bewildered. "We've only just met. I had no idea--"

"She's joking." Jake sipped his beer. "But I have mentioned you. I do like to do my research and Samantha's staff reports are quite thorough. Plus I came through the department several times this week, incognito, and watched all of you in action. You're running a tight ship, Luke. It will be a pleasure to take the helm."

I wasn't sure my ship had been particularly tight. Mrs Robinson might have even said it was rudderless, but still, the idea of Jake just stepping into the role of captain so easily was one that would take some getting used to. Even so, sandwiched between the man and his sister, both of them full of smooth conversation, I soon began to feel more at ease with the idea. They were both the sort of confident, good looking people that I always felt rather out of my depth with. The fact they were being so nice was very gratifying, though I wasn't really holding up my end of the conversation. I grasped my wineglass like it was a life-raft. And Sissy soon brought a fresh bottle to the table so she could keep me topped up.

By the time Jake suggested leaving I was quite drunk and had no idea what the hour was. Sissy pulled me to my feet and put her arm around me for mutual support. She was about my height and smelled delicious. Her blonde hair tickled my face and neck. "Come on, let's get you home, Luke."

Outside it had grown dark though the air still held some of the day's warmth. An Uber was waiting for us at the curb and we all climbed into the back seat.

"You're coming with me?" I asked, confused.

"No, silly, you're coming with us." Sissy took my hand and held it in her lap.

"The evening's young," Jake said. "Time for a nightcap at least. You can get a cab from my place later."

And off we went. Where I had no idea, but it didn't take long so the flat must have cost a bomb. Nowhere close to Knightsbridge was even remotely affordable on my salary and I severely doubted that Jake's would cover local rents either. Nonetheless I was soon sitting in a comfortable chesterfield armchair in a spacious fifth floor apartment with yet another glass of expensive Merlot in my hand.

Jake had vanished into the kitchen promising a marvellous cheeseboard, and Sissy had perched her perfect bottom, which her sheer black dress seemed to accentuate rather than hide, on the arm of my chair.

"I think I'm drunk," I slurred. The room had started to rotate slowly.

Sissy reached out and stroked her hand over my hair. "Don't worry about it, baby girl."

"Baby?" I objected, looking up at her.

She slipped down from the chair's arm and turned towards me, her red mouth smiling. "Baby," she confirmed and began to unbutton my trousers.

"What are you--"

"Lift up, silly." She tugged at them.

I lifted up. And found myself surprised when she hauled down both my trousers and underpants in one smooth motion, leaving my erection to spring up between my shirttails.

"Oh, how sweet!" Sissy reached out and took my cock in her hand.

I'd always been rather embarrassed by the four and a half inches god had given me. I consoled myself by saying that it was only a little under the average five inches or so, and that half of all men had smaller than average penises. That was the very definition of average. Even so, it felt bad to be under average.

"Sweet?" It wasn't exactly what a man wanted to hear in such circumstances. Then I came to my senses. "Jake! He'll come back!"

"Sssshhh." Sissy covered the problem effectively, hiding it in her red-nailed hand, squeezing gently. Already fear and embarrassment were making me go soft. She bent her head, golden hair falling over my thighs, and glanced up roguishly before steering my wilting cock into her painted mouth.

"Oh god..." A wonderful warmth filled me, my cock tingling as she sucked it smoothly in, sealing her lips around the base.

I made a half-hearted attempt to get up but she reached out and pinned my wrist to the arm of the chair, all without looking up from her task. She sucked firmly but gently, moving her head up and down so that her lips slid from the base to the head of my cock, almost releasing me before sucking me back in again. At the top of each motion she swirled her warm, soft tongue around the very tip, sending strange tingles through me. She had no problem accommodating the length of it, and used her spare hand to hold both of my balls in a grip tight enough to tell me I was going nowhere until she was done.

For several minutes I sat back, alternately gazing at the ceiling and at the top of her golden head while gasping softly as the pleasure built. Then I saw Jake, leaning against the doorjamb with a bowl-glass of whiskey in one hand and an amused smile on his handsome face. Startled, I tried to get out of the chair once more. Sissy wasn't having it. She tightened her grip on my testicles and kept me pinned where she wanted me. Horrified, I locked eyes with Jake.

"Better let her have what she wants," he said, grinning. "Sissy usually gets what she wants, and right now she really wants to taste your last one."

"My ... uh ... my last ... oh." I wanted to ask: my last what? But Sissy's relentless sucking combined with Jake watching me with his dark eyes was having the desired effect. I didn't want to but it seemed they both wanted it, and helplessly I began to orgasm, my hips twitching, thrusting me into Sissy's mouth as I spurted several days' worth of sperm at the back of her throat and emptied my balls into her. "Oh God." I put my hands on her head and knotted my fingers in her hair. "God."

I expected Sissy to come up for air but she stayed there a full minute longer, sucking hard on my softening cock as if determined to extract every last drop. By the time she finally raised her smiling face to me and let my limp lipstick-smeared penis slip from her mouth I was feeling even more dizzy than I'd been when she started.

"Thank you," I managed.

Chapter 3

I woke with a pounding head and it took me a few minutes to work out I was at home in my own bed. I remembered the "thank you" and nothing past that. Thank you -- I groaned -- what a stupid thing to have said.

While my headache demanded that I stay in bed and keep my eyes shut tight my overfull bladder had very different opinions and expressed them still more loudly. Moaning, I staggered to the bathroom. Too dizzy and weak to perform standing up I pulled my trousers and pants down around my knees and sat heavily on the cold plastic seat.

I reached down to aim my cock at the water ... and found nothing. Somewhat panicked I tried again, staring bleary eyed down between my legs and feeling for what should be there. Unexpectedly my fingers grazed metal and pulling back my hand in shock I found myself starting at a small perforated metal cap no bigger than my biggest toenail right where my cock should be. The surprise started my overdue waterworks and urine began to jet from the hole in the middle of the metal cap, with extra sprinkling out through the smaller holes for good measure. A whole night's worth splashed out of me while I stared in amazement. I reached down and examined myself. A steel ring encircled the base of my penis tightly, running under my balls. A metal rod secured the cap to the ring, which seemed to be locked in place. There appeared to be no way my whole penis could be hidden beneath that small cap, even given its modest size -- there'd hardly be less room under a button.

"I'm not having this nonsense!" I reached down and tried to jerk the whole affair loose. Immediately an excruciating pain brought me off the toilet and onto my knees with a cry of agony. Was the thing glued on? What had they done to me? Where was my cock?

In a panic, still with my trousers around my knees and with my inner thighs wet with sprayed pee I half-ran half-hobbled back to my bed to find my phone. It lay on my bedside table under a handwritten note.

'Don't be cross, Lukey. Jake's number's on your phone. Love Sissy.'

My first thought was to phone the police but I quickly revised that, imaging just how the conversation would go. I jabbed at the screen and found Jake's number. Infuriatingly it rang for a full five minutes before he picked up and it was five minutes that felt like an hour. I hung on expecting it to go to voicemail any moment and then eventually:

"Lukey." His smooth, cultured voice totally unperturbed. "Good of you to call."

"What have you done?" I shouted. "I can't get this thing off!"

"Well don't try, silly."

"You glued it on!" I sounded shrill, even to myself. "It hurts when I pull it!"

"Listen," he said calmly. "You're wearing a chastity device. There's a steel tube an inch deep in your urethra. You can't possibly take it off without the key. The whole thing is stainless steel. Sissy put it on you for a joke, to make sure you came back. Come over tonight and she'll unlock you. And don't be a silly girl. She likes you. We both do."

"Where the hell is my cock?" I shouted at him.

"Relax. It's squashed up under the cap. A lot of men can squash up to almost nothing."

I looked down. It really did look like almost nothing. Just my balls there and a small silver dome where my cock should be.

"I should go to the police," I growled, trying to deepen my voice. "You drugged me!"

"They'll want to see it." Jake sounded amused. "They'll take photos and you can be damn sure those will get shared around! And they won't be able to get it off. They'll call the fire brigade, who will also want to take pictures for training purposes. They'll figure out that it's hardened steel and that it will heat up if they try to cut it. And that won't feel good at all, especially not on the tube that goes inside... Then they'll send you to the hospital, and a young doctor will tell you there's nothing she can do without the key. Plus, I have video of you agreeing to Sissy locking you in. So, Lukey, get your backside into work, and tonight I'll take you to Sissy and she can--"

"Did she shave me?" I interrupted, only now noticing with shock that I hadn't a single pubic hair left. Even my balls were entirely smooth and rather more pink than normal.

"What can I say? She's very thorough." He put the phone down.

I arrived late at work with my headache pounding. The chastity device felt odd, uncomfortable, the tube inside me stung a little and I walked a little awkwardly even though I really didn't need to.

Jake was in the middle of a welcome meeting with Mrs Robinson, Jill, and Sarah ahead of the main doors downstairs opening to customers. He called Mrs Robinson "Janet" and she didn't bat an eye. Sarah and Jill looked at me sympathetically, as if they assumed I'd got drunk the night before because I'd missed out on the manager position. My scowling at Jake probably reinforced the notion. Mrs Robinson just arched an eyebrow at me and gave a small smile.

I paid hardly any attention to Jake's introduction, the talk of his time at Harrods, even praise for what he'd seen during his anonymous visits washed over me. I couldn't believe what had happened. I couldn't remember what had happened. I remembered how expertly Sissy had sucked the come out of me and a tiny tingle ran through my cock. It became tight in the little dome and I felt the tube inside me more distinctly. And ... that was it. I couldn't get hard, there was no space to grow. Sissy had complete control of my erections. Nothing was happening down there without her say so.

Bad temperedly -- and somewhat aroused without the least chance to do anything about it -- I went about my day. To add insult to injury the wine had given me a bad stomach and I spent the first two thirds of the day making constant runs to the toilet where I was forced to contemplate my steel imprisonment while it seemed like everything I'd ever eaten fell out of me.