Made to Obey Ch. 11

As we left Bowser's office, I opened the door and let the women leave first, then turned around to see Bowser smiling at me and playing an imaginary cricket shot, smashing the ball for six.

You might imagine I'd be quite satisfied with this outcome and I suppose to some extent I was. It just seemed so unfair though that Bowser had got off relatively scot-free, whereas I was being punished -- losing out on having sex with my wife for one thing -- by being even further under the control of the Gifford women.

For the next few weeks, the subject of my fraud never really figured; things were just too busy on the work front. The foundations for the various buildings had been dug, the concrete laid and, together with Max and Donna, I helped project manage things. Once things had started to go relatively smoothly though, smooth enough for Donna to take most of the responsibility, Ruth sat me down one evening after I'd changed into my nightie and informed me that, in order to help me come to terms with the "real" Carla, she had booked me in to an intensive, six-week course with a sex therapist; one especially recommended to her by Geraldine.

A sex therapist who, apparently, had a wealth of experience dealing with men who struggled with their sexual identity. I didn't feel this applied to me but didn't argue; maybe by attending this course, Ruth would allow me to have sex once again with her. At this time, she was just allowing me to masturbate once a fortnight and even this she said was very generous on her part.

I did wonder sometimes if I should perhaps adopt Bowser's approach and be a little more assertive, aggressive even, but Ruth and the Gifford women had the pictures and the film clips that I didn't want anyone else to see, least of all my brother or his family.

On the first day of my six-week course, an expensive people-carrier driven by a large, muscular, well-dressed man wearing a dark suit and sunglasses called to take me to the place where my sex-therapist was based. Ruth handed him a small envelope and wished me good luck, warning me I must obey everything the therapist ordered me to do. I was dressed in my work clothes (i.e. male jacket, trousers and shirt) but still had my chastity cage fitted over which I wore a rather nice pair of skimpy pink briefs with little flowers printed on them.

The driver -- Norman -- ushered me into the rear of the vehicle, where there was another passenger, a pretty young lady of about 19. She smiled and introduced herself as Jasmine. She wore a hoodie bearing the logo of the local University and tight blue jeans with the fashionable rips about the knees. I could tell she had a lovely figure even though her top kept things well hidden. I wondered if her panties were as nice as mine.

"I'm studying education at Uni," she explained, "but have a temporary job outside of term time. Norman's dropping me off there. Where are you off to?"

Asking this question suggested to me that Norman was just giving her a lift, perhaps she lived near to him and he knew she worked near where I was being taken.

"Oh, I'm off to see a medical expert," I explained.

After travelling for maybe 20 minutes, we pulled up outside a large, detached house standing in its own grounds. Jasmine got out with me and Norman and I hoped that her temporary work wasn't with the sex-therapist who was "treating" me. Naively, I thought that my therapy would probably involve me answering lots of questions about my childhood, relationship with my mother, was I bullied at school -- that sort of thing, and maybe looking at various ink-blot patterns and being asked to say what I saw in them, although six weeks did seem rather a long time for this; perhaps it was six weeks if necessary. Once this therapist knew I was a real, masculine chap with a high sex-drive who'd been blackmailed into femininity, we could finish the course early, maybe in a couple of days.

Jasmine, to my relief, walked off to the rear of the building. Norman ordered me to follow him through the front door. I noticed the name on the brass plate at the front "Mrs. L. Johnson", followed by various letters, suggesting she had professional qualifications. Once inside, Norman led me to a door which required him to enter a code before we could enter. It was a smart, well-furnished waiting-room with high oak wainscotting, not unlike one you might expect at a private dentist or similar. Norman told me to take a seat at the large desk, which I did. He then went over and stood against the wall by the entrance door, as though there to stop me escaping.

Mrs. Johnson entered shortly after from a door at the side of the room. About 45, straight black shoulder length hair and about 5ft 10ins, she was dressed in a tight, red, figure-hugging dress, black stockings and red high-heeled shoes. Her make-up made was very well applied, long black eyelashes above gorgeous green eyes and sensuous lips a similar shade of red as her dress and shoes.

She was attractive without being glamorous yet had a stern demeanour about her. I could have imagined her as a governess at a boys boarding school, the one who they'd all secretly toss themselves off over. She smiled and sat down opposite me, reaching for some notes and scanning them briefly before returning her gaze to me.

"Carl, Carla. Welcome. I've spoken at length with your wife, she's told me all about your reluctance to come to terms with your female persona; your submissive, feminine self. In this course, we're going to put your claim to be a heterosexual man to the test. In my experience, most men like you can't accept they're really more like a woman; not macho at all. They see it as some sort of failure..."

"But I got blackmailed, forced into..." I interrupted.

"Be quite Carla. You'll only speak when asked to, do you understand? And you must always address me as 'Mrs Johnson'. Failure to will be punished. Now, stand up and undress yourself, take your shoes and socks off too."

I was about to say something like "Go fuck yourself", in the manner that Bowser might, but before I could gather my courage, Norman had moved towards me and grabbed an arm, pulling me up.

"Do as Mrs Johnson says Carla, or I'll have to strip you and I might be a little rough, know what I mean?"

Shyly, I stripped down to my panties, not sure whether to leave these on.

"And those too," Mrs Johnson nodded towards my underwear. I reluctantly peeled them off and left them on top of my other clothes, placing my hands over my caged dick.

"Norman..." Mrs Johnson called him over to her. He walked to the desk and handed her the small envelope which Ruth had given him. From this she extracted the key to my chastity device lock.

Just then, the door through which Mrs Johnson entered opened and in walked Jasmine, now dressed in a white silk Basque that just about managed to contain her eye-catching breasts, with white hold-up stockings and white high heeled shoes. She looked ravishing. It had been almost a fortnight since Ruth had last allowed me to jerk-off, so despite the strange, intimidating circumstances I found myself in, my dick -- hidden behind my hands - started to show signs of excitement.

Mrs Johnson handed Jasmine the key.

"Unlock Carla's device please. Carla, this young lady is my apprentice. You must do whatever she asks you to -- without hesitation, understand?"

"Yes Mrs Johnson."

"Furthermore, you must always address her as 'Young Mistress Jasmine' got it?"

"Yes Mrs Johnson."

"Now, lift your arms up so she can unlock you."

Young Mistress Jasmine smiled at me as she approached, then knelt down to unlock my cage. My cock was now leaking a little and stood out like a mini-arm as it was set free.

Mrs Johnson came over to me and stood beside Young Mistress Jasmine, both inspecting my face, frame and cock.

"Turn around and spread your legs out a couple of feet Carla," the younger lady ordered me.

"Yes Young Mistress Jasmine," I whimpered and did as I was told. Both the women then stooped and pushed and pulled my bottom cheeks around. I felt like some animal being inspected at an auction. My dick was now getting tremendously horny.

"Take him away for preparation Jasmine, Norman -- you go with them."

Young Mistress Jasmine curled her finger at me as she walked towards the door, ushering me to follow and, at the same time casting a glance at my proud, uncaged member.

"Try and keep that under control Carla," she said. "You don't want to have to clean up any mess now do you?"

"No, Young Mistress Jasmine."

I was led into a room rather like a Doctor's surgery and made to put on a pair of white, frilly panties but no chastity device which surprised me.

"Now Carla, sit down there and sit up straight and still, understand? Don't move until I tell you, okay?"

"Yes Young Mistress Jasmine." I was trying desperately not to have an involuntary ejaculation in my new panties but what followed soon took away all thoughts of that. Young Mistress Jasmine swiftly rubbed some kind of liquid on my ear-lobes and then produced an ear-piercing gun. Reminding me to sit quite still again, she pierced both my ears, the pain, despite my lobes having been numbed, turned my stiff dick quite flaccid. Shortly after, when my ears had been mopped with a little cotton-wool and some sort of antiseptic, small studs were placed in them and I was instructed to rotate the studs every so often.

Next, on being told to stand, Young Mistress Jasmine fitted a suction -cup like device to each of my nipples. These were quite painful, but I was told I must wear them all the time whilst at Mrs Johnson's and that I'd soon get used to them (which I did). Finally, Young Miss Jasmine shaved all my pubic hair off, smacking my dick hard whenever it started to get aroused and then removed all the hairs from between my bum cheeks. Soon after that, Mrs Johnson came in to inspect her protégé's work, expressing her approval as she pulled my cheeks apart again.

"Well done Jasmine. Now, let's all have a cup of tea to reward Carla for being a brave girl as she had her ears pierced."

Norman went off to make the brew. I was too flabbergasted to know what to say to either of them. I was relieved that my new panties hid my dick from view, but wanted to ask if I could put some more clothes on, yet didn't think I had the authority to.

The tea, when it came, tasted slightly funny. When Mrs Johnson saw me grimacing as I tried to swallow it, she explained that they would be adding a small amount of the female hormone Oestrogen to my diet to encourage breast growth and discourage hair growth. I looked horrified but she assured me that it wasn't enough to stop my getting an erection or ejaculating. This was a relief, I mean, a man needed to be able to get a hard-on! I drank my tea as ordered.

Still dressed only in white panties, I was then taken to a small room in which there was a rather large armchair facing a large television screen. Young Mistress Jasmine told me to sit down and then proceeded -- watched over by Norman in case I resisted -- to fit me with something not unlike boxing gloves! I couldn't untie them and they were clearly fitted to stop me jerking off.

Before leaving me alone in the room, she switched the screen on and, for the next hour, I had to watch non-stop footage of sissies sucking dick or being screwed by men; of scantily clad, attractive women taunting the viewer by holding sexy panties up to the camera and saying how much sissies liked wearing them -- that sort of thing.

Most of the sissies were very pretty it had to be said, and watching them being fucked with their cocks waving stiff and free as their lovers rode them did kind of turn me on. Sometimes there would be footage of sissies in pretty lingerie being fucked or pegged whilst wearing chastity devices or pegging themselves with dildos and suchlike.

I'm sure my reaction to this porn was being monitored by some secret camera. My dick did start to get excited after a while but, even though it was uncaged, the gloves made sure I couldn't jerk off. I guessed Mrs Johnson wanted me to come unaided whilst watching all this; to prove I was turned on by it; to make me get an appetite for being serviced as a sissy. I was determined to frustrate her though; determined not to come. I was heterosexual after all: I'd show her who was boss.

Anyway, the reason I'd an erection was surely due to my dick being uncaged after so long (and I admit, the feel of the panties on it).

As my first day at Mrs Johnson's ended, I was allowed to dress back into the clothes I arrived in. My dick was once again caged, but this time not with the padlock that it had on originally, but a smaller pink- coloured one. Mrs Johnson handed the key to it to Norman to give to Ruth when he dropped me off. Norman also gave Ruth a small bottle of liquid which I learnt contained more of the female hormones I was to be given together with instructions on dosage.

During the first few weeks, my training at Mrs Johnson's consisted mainly in her or Young Mistress Jasmine teaching me how to apply make-up, do my hair, paint my finger and toenails, walk wearing high-heels in a ladylike way, get in and out of cars and stand up after being seated without exposing my knickers, how to wash and iron ladies' clothes, and how to bake. I was a quick learner having already had some experience of many of these things.

Quite some time was spent trying to teach me to talk in a less masculine voice and every day included a session where I had to watch porn when dressed just in panties but with my hands in the boxing-glove-like mittens. The porn was always of the same sort, sissies sucking cock or being screwed or caged sissies being fucked or pegged. I always had an erection during these sessions but, when asked by Mrs Johnson if this was because I found the thought of being taken by a "proper" man erotic, I denied this, saying it was just because my dick was uncaged and I hadn't come for a quite a while.

I'd noticed too over these weeks that my breasts had started to grow slightly, the result of the hormones no doubt plus my nipples were now bigger with the areolas taking on the enlarged cupola look similar to those on Miss Penny's tits. (Surely Miss Penny wasn't a male who'd had his genitals removed and a vagina formed!). Young Mistress Jasmine was pleased with this development and allowed me to start wearing a training-bra which I wore over the nipple suction cups I wore during the day. My ear piercings were now painless and I was given earrings to wear whilst in my lessons.

Ruth too was very pleased with my progress and was especially delighted when Mrs Johnson informed her my breasts were now developing and that I was able to wear a small bra. They were both keen to ensure that my hormone intake did not stop me from getting a hard-on and every day my excitement at watching the sissy porn was monitored. I tried really hard when watching this to remain flaccid so that Mrs Johnson would think that sissy-sex didn't turn me on and that maybe the hormone dosage should be reduced, but I never quite succeeded.

I was allowed to jerk-off every Friday before being driven home but I had to do this with the sissy porn on the screen. Young Mistress Jasmine watched me and reported back to Mrs Johnson on whether I'd managed to come or not: I always did, I was just so desperate to empty my balls before being caged again.

Ruth came along with me one morning to Mrs Johnson and I was made to make myself up and dress in a very sexy short black skirt, tight see-through white blouse with white bra visible underneath, black seamed stockings and suspender belt, shiny black high-heeled shoes that were fastened by straps above the ankle and a very small pair of white satin panties that had a black bow and lace trimmings.

My nails were of course painted and I wore a pair of pendant earrings and a matching necklace. When I saw myself in the full-length mirror, I couldn't help but think that the Carl Henley of last year would have been quite turned on by the woman he now saw in his reflection; I did have lovely legs, so well suited to wearing stockings. I had my chastity device on at first, and I was made to walk up and down the room, watched by Ruth, Mrs Johnson, Young Mistress Jasmine and Norman. The three women pronounced themselves very happy with my appearance and progress.

Young Mistress Jasmine then told me to adopt various poses that involved lifting my skirt up to expose my stocking tops and panties or lowering my panties to show my caged dick. When doing this, the other two women filmed me. Later on, my cage was removed and similar poses were struck -- the women were very pleased to see that the hormone treatment had not suppressed my ability to get an erection.

I heard Ruth tell Mrs Johnson that she was going to send some of these pictures to her friend Maggy in the U.S.A. Finally, they took pictures of me with my blouse undone and bra removed, my hands clasped behind my head making my new, cute little breasts and prominent nipples jut out from the blouse. When they'd finished with all this, I was to be rewarded by having an extra wank before Ruth left and I returned to my training. I came in buckets, pleased to be able to relieve myself and pleased that I was still getting erections -- that would show these bossy women I was still a man beneath all this silk and make-up!

With just over a week to go though, I received a nasty surprise. During a session watching porn, I saw a figure I recognised being pegged whilst wearing a chastity device and purple silk crotchless panties: it was me! Being pegged by Miss Penny. It dawned on me that my humiliation at the hands of that bitch must now be on the internet. What the fuck was this all about?

Before leaving for home that day, I decided to man-up and ask Mrs Johnson just what was going on. She laughed and told me ask my wife; she'd explain. So I did.

After I'd done the washing up after tea and changed into my light-blue baby-doll nightie and panties, I asked her whilst we were watching some not particularly interesting show on TV.

"Excuse me ma'am," I started a little nervously, not sure if the new, more feminine voice I had been told I must now use all the time was satisfactory. Ruth turned her gaze towards me and smiled, encouraging me to continue.

"Today ma'am, at Mrs Johnson's, on the porn I'm being made to watch, there was footage of me and Miss Penny when, you know, she 'pegged' me. I thought my punishment was being kept private, within just a small circle. This suggests that that's no longer the case."

Ruth gave me a sympathetic smile, as though the thought of having to explain all this was rather like a parent telling a slow-learning child something.

"Oh Carla. Look dear, don't get upset. It was private and would have been kept private, but remember, you defrauded someone of a large sum of money. How do you think we can repay that?"

I looked confused, so Ruth elaborated.

"I'm in marketing, right? So, together with Penny and Mrs Johnson, we've decided to sell footage of your new sex lifer to online porn viewers. You wouldn't believe how many people are willing to pay to watch that kind of stuff. Don't worry though, your identity is totally anonymous. Anyway, we've set up a dedicated web-site devoted to your transformation and submission. So far, we've had about 3,500 paying viewers. This is all going towards your making good what you stole -- minus expenses such as Mrs Johnson's fees; she's very pricey."

She then turned back to face the television again, assuming she'd answered my query satisfactorily.

"But ma'am, excuse me, but how much money do I need to generate, to earn, before I've repaid my debt?"

"Well Carla, at least £140,000 after interest's been added mother reckons. Don't worry your little head about it though, we're keeping a record and will tell you when you've repaid it."