Red Swallow Ch. 06

"Argh, motherfucker!" Dustin thought. "Perfume? How could he have gotten in here?"

Again, he scanned his small apartment to try to figure out where Carl could have planted a camera. Security in his apartment building was horrible, almost non-existent.

Dustin decided that playing along for now would be the best course of action. He stripped and went to the bathroom, where he found an unfamiliar, brand new bottle of perfume sitting on his bathroom counter. Carl must have planted it while he was out? How was he doing this?

He sprayed the perfume over his whole body and made sure to spray some onto his bottom and over his anus. Dustin applied a smooth scented skin cream onto his skin for good measure. As he pampered himself, he calmed down somewhat as the lovely, sultry feelings that he usually felt when indulging in these feminine activities returned.

He turned away from the mirror to see his backside and try and observe the plug nestled inside him. He could just see base. Dustin gripped his bottom and spread his butt cheeks to get a better view of the plug and was able to see his sphincter securely clenched around the tiny base of the plug.

Dustin took a moment to marvel at the sensation of the plug filling him in such a satisfying way, and then shook his head in irritation for having these thoughts.

Returning to his bedroom he pulled on a fresh pair of emerald green satin panties and slipped back into a tight long-sleeve t-shirt and denim pleated mini-skirt. Just then, the distinctive tone of the slave app chimed on his phone.

Dustin and opened the Slave app and was treated to a close-up picture of Carl's smooth, 7-inch cock.

The app chimed again and Dustin read the accompanying text.

-Your dinner tonight! Ha Ha! -

"What a jackass," Dustin thought, though a curious feeling curled through his tummy.

More messages stared to arrive and he scrolled down and read further.

- Ok Slave, enough fun and games, follow these instructions exactly -

- Go to the Greystone Hotel on 72nd and Holter. Check into room 503 by 4:00pm -

- Take nothing but your phone and photo ID with you -

- You will be given further instructions. Do not be late. You know what will happen if you are -

- Oh, and take off the skirt and put on your jeans. Everyone needs to see what a sissy boy you are -

"That's it! This ends now!" Dustin exclaimed. He started stomping around his small apartment, looking for the camera, or whatever it was Carl was using for surveillance on him.

Desk and office area... nothing.

Bed, dresser, wardrobe, nothing.

Kitchen, nothing.

Dustin was at his wits end, when he looked... up. There, in the dark corner where the kitchen wall met the ceiling, was a small, unobtrusive, square webcam. No bigger than his thumb, it was a common commercial model with a built-in power pack and transmitter.

"A-ha! Got you, asshole!" Dustin cried. He grabbed a chair from the kitchen table to climb up and pull down the webcam. He reached for the webcam to pull it off and throw it to the ground...

And that was when the Stinger hit.

Dustin fell off the chair and hit the floor hard. His whole body locked up and spasmed as the electrical currents shot through him. It was far worse than the taste that Master had given him earlier in the day.

After what seemed like ten lifetimes, it ended. All Dustin could do was lay on the floor, gasping. As his senses came back to him, he realized that his phone was chiming at him.

- That was a small taste of what I will do to you if you defy me, even in the slightest, one more time -

- Get your ass to the Greystone. If you are late, you'll be punished worse than this -

- You don't have much time left to waste... tick tock, tick tock -

Dustin looked at the time. It was 3:30. A freezing wave of terror shot through him; he wasn't going to make it! He jumped up and switched his skirt for the jeans. He grabbed his ID, phone, and keys, and ran outside.

Luckily, he found an auto-taxi on the street outside his building. He leapt into the autonomous vehicle, and hurriedly typed in the address, his glossy black nails dancing across the touch-screen.

As Dustin settled back in the taxi and it pulled away, he tried to compose his thoughts. Carl had really boxed him in. But, as he calmed down, he realized that he was alone in the taxi, and there couldn't be any cameras. He could try and remove the Stinger one more time and get out of this predicament.

Just as he resolved to do that, his phone chimed. Dustin opened the app, and a message popped up.

- I bet I know what you're thinking. No cameras in the taxi, right -

- Well, I have other ways to punish you, my little cock-hungry sissy -

- If you don't show up at the Greystone as instructed, this will be sent to everyone at work -

The next message was a picture; a picture of Desiree being pounded in the ass by an anonymous man. It was obviously Carl fucking Desiree at COBALT. But the angle was such that Carl was anonymous, while Desiree's face was turned perfectly towards the camera, very recognizable, with a look of pure ecstasy on her face.

"Holy shit, NO!" Dustin thought, and bit his lip hard. Carl loved to use these little spy-cams, apparently.

- I have been doing some research into your background, my sissy cock-slave. I might even send this picture to your grandmother back home in Iowa -

Dustin hung his head. He saw no way out. "I really hate this fucking guy," he thought.

- Master, I promise I will do as I am told - Dustin typed his reply into the Slave app.

- Good girl - replied Carl. - Who owns you? -

- Master Carl owns me - Dustin typed, cringing.

- Completely? -

-Yes Master, completely-

**

The taxi pulled up to the Greystone Hotel. It was an old stone building on an awkward corner in a quiet neighborhood, sitting between two streets that merged into one.

Dustin pulled out his phone to tap the touch-screen and pay for the ride, but the display showed that payment had already been provided. Must have been Carl - he had really planned this out.

Dustin felt and acted like he was in a trance as he exited the cab and walked up the four, rain dampened steps to the narrow glass doors of the hotel. Thunder rumbled through the streets, and the waning afternoon light had almost a green tinge to it, filtering through the clouds. This was possibly the most surreal day of Dustin's life. And he was about to go further down the rabbit hole...

He walked inside into a small but beautiful lobby. Everything seemed to be made of highly polished wood and gleaming dark green metal trim - from the floors to the walls to the counter and the mail cubbies behind the older gentlemen manning the front desk.

It was completely empty except for the clerk behind the front desk. And quiet. The only sound was the ticking of a large, antique clock on the wall.

Dustin slowly walked over to the front desk, and the clerk slowly raised his head. He looked to be a 60-some years old gentleman, very elegant, like from a time gone past - wearing a charcoal suit and waistcoat with a crimson tie.

Before Dustin could say anything, he smiled gently and said, "Good evening, Miss Desiree. We have been expecting you. Room 503 is waiting for you; please take the lift to your left."

This was getting more surreal by the minute. Dustin thanked the gentleman, and moved to the elevator.

Upstairs, the feel of the hotel continued. Dustin felt as if she had stepped into a period piece - maybe from the 1950s. It was hard to tell. It felt a little like he was in an old John Wick movie - one of the original series, with Keanu Reeves, not the remakes.

The 5th floor hallway has similarly appointed as the lobby, and his sneakers squeaked a bit on the glossy wooden floors. Abruptly, he became aware of his appearance - jeans, t-shirt, sneakers - and felt ridiculous. The setting was getting to him, and Desiree began to emerge. She imagined that an elegant gown would be more appropriate for this décor...this setting.

She came to room 503. For a moment, Dustin asserted himself in his mind and he thought "What in the actual fuck am I doing here?!" And then Desiree resumed control. Realizing she had not been given a key, she knocked on the door.

The door to room 503 creaked open. Desiree was presented with a handsome, Rubenesque woman, probably in her mid 40s. She was pretty, with her voluminous blonde hair pulled up into a large bun, wearing what appeared to be a stylist's outfit or hospital scrubs.

Desiree thought that she looked like the type of person who always insisted on speaking to the manager to complain.

The woman slowly looked Desiree up and down.

"Well," she said. "It is about time you showed up! Get in here, and let's get started! We have a lot of work to do."

Desiree entered the room. It was large, with an enormous king-sized, four-poster bed with a canopy at the far end. Closer to Desiree was a vanity table with chairs on opposite sides, facing each other.

"My name is Karen," said the lady. "I've been hired to make you presentable tonight, though I don't usually work with... well, sissies," she said, with scorn in her tone.

"But you do have some redeeming features, so you may not be a total loss. I will do my best, but I absolutely will not be held responsible if you look deplorable! I can only do so much with the canvas I am given! You tell Carl I said that!"

Desiree's head was still swimming from what was going on, but she did feel like she should be insulted by this tirade. Before she could think further on it, Karen was pulling her into the room and slamming the door shut.

"Alright, first we will get you into your outfit for the evening. Then, I will do your face and hair. This will take a while, but you must be ready by 8:00. So let's go!"

Karen started by making Desiree bathe yet again. Desiree protested that she'd just done so a few hours prior, but Karen was having none of it and into the bath Desiree went. She luxuriated for a bit as Karen had added moisturizing oil to the water, but Karen was soon pulling her out, drying her, and applying lotion all over her body. Desiree's skin had never been so soft.

After drying, Desiree stood naked and feeling a little ridiculous in the large bathroom. Karen threw a pair of red thong panties at her. Desiree pushed her testicles up into her inguinal canal and tucked her penis back between her legs and put on the panties.

Karen smirked, "I see you have experience. Have you been a sissy long?"

Karen didn't wait for an answer as she moved on to rubbing liberal amounts of talcum powder all over Desiree's body. She beckoned Desiree back into the bedroom, to the vanity table where a set of enormous silicone breast forms sat.

"Come here and stand still," Karen instructed.

"Wow, what do we need those for?" Desiree breathed.

"Because I was told to give you DD's," replied Karen. "Though I think they may look a little large on your frame. I don't know why Carl wanted you so big, but he paid and that's what you'll get," she said, eyeing Desiree critically.

"I see you are already almost an A-cup. How long have you been on hormones?"

"What? Hormones? I... what do you mean? I'm not on hormones..." Desiree stammered.

Karen just snorted in derision and turned to the vanity table. She applied some adhesive to Desiree's chest and pressed each breast form into place. She then helped Desiree into a snug black bra. "That adhesive will dry shortly and as soon as it does, we can remove that bra," she said.

"Ok, and then what?" Desiree asked as Karen blended the edges of the breast forms into her skin with makeup. She already knew all this. The weight of the larger forms was very pronounced however, much more than she was normally used to.

"The piece de resistance, uh... mademoiselle?" Karen said, with a hint of a sneer. She moved to the bed and held up a sleeveless, wine-colored latex cat suit, with a heart-shaped cutout at the bosom.

Desiree's mind stopped working for a moment. The sight of the sultry, glossy latex cat suit was stunning, and it was having a curious effect on her. She found her breath was coming fast and shallow. She had not worn latex since the experience with Carl at COBALT, and she was having mixed reactions to it, both positive and negative. Her head swam a little.

"Come on now," Karen snapped. "I don't have all night to cater to Carl's little boy toy!"

Desiree was angered when Karen referred to her that way but she moved towards Karen and the cat suit anyway.

Karen helped her through the laborious process of squeezing into the latex garment. First, she applied more talcum powder to her legs. She then rolled up each leg of the suit, and slowly guided them up Desiree's legs. This took some time, patience, and pulling and smoothing the fabric. But eventually they were up to her mid-section.

There was a lot of jumping and stretching to get the garment on; it seemed to fit much more snugly, and be made of a heavier, higher quality material than her previous cat suit. Desiree was amused - and a little excited - by how the enormous breast forms bounced and jiggled with her movements.

After Karen pulled the suit up to Desiree's tummy, she finally removed the bra. The adhesive had set, and the silicon breast forms were fully secured and moving naturally on her chest.

Karen helped Desiree pull the cat suit over her mountainous bosom. The cat suit collar was snapped shut at the throat, with the cut-out revealing an impressive amount of cleavage.

"Wait, you're not done yet," said Karen. She brought out a pair of black latex opera gloves and helped Desiree into them. Then she zipped her into black, knee-high boots with a 6" heel and 2" platform.

"Well, you are almost presentable," Karen grudgingly admitted. "I have to say, you are not completely hideous but there is still much to do!"

Truthfully Karen was impressed. The boy's skin tone and condition were soft and feminine; his hair was well cared for and healthy. But despite these attributes she needed to keep the young man under her control. She had a lot to do and didn't need any delays.

Over the next two hours or so, Karen masterfully applied Desiree's makeup. She created a deep, smoky-eyed look with shades of red and purple that matched the cat suit, and made Desiree look like she had walked off of a lingerie runway show in Milan.

Desiree's hair was past her shoulders and a beautiful blonde color. But Karen announced that wasn't what Carl wanted that evening. She sprayed down Desiree's hair and swept it under a net, then applied a thick, curly, fiery red wig. Desiree preferred her own hair, but she had to admit, the color worked and she looked hot.

"So, it looks like we are finished?" Desiree asked.

"Not just yet," Karen responded as she took a bottle of silicone latex polish and a hand towel. "After I wipe away all the talcum powder from the suit and polish you up, there is still one more thing." She pointed to another garment sitting on the bed - a shiny, black latex corset.

Desiree blanched as she knew how painful corsets could be, and she anticipated that Karen would take pleasure in squeezing her into it. Karen rubbed Desiree's latex cat suit all over with the polish and towel until the suit positively shone.

Finally, Karen positioned the corset around Desiree's latex-covered mid-section, and expertly sealed her into it, mercilessly tightening the laces. Just as Desiree expected, Karen seemed to enjoy that part, humming to herself as she worked.

Finally, precisely at 9:00 pm, Karen announced that she was finished. Desiree felt a pang of disappointment, followed by a mix of apprehension and excitement as to what the hell was to come next.

Karen started to pack up her equipment. "Um, what do I do next?" Desiree asked.

"Um, I don't know, sissy." Karen mocked. "I got paid to make you look a certain way, and I did that. Now I'm getting out of here. I can't imagine why you do this, but... well, whatever. I'm sure the money is good."

"Wow," Desiree thought to herself. "Fuck you."

Karen finished gathering her things and left the room. Desiree went to the full-length mirror and examined herself.

She had never seen herself dressed this way. Her previous cat suit looked tame in comparison. In the mirror was a stunning woman with flaming red hair reaching nearly to her derriere, encased in a merlot-colored latex cat suit, with a waspish waist held in by a shiny black corset that accentuated her hips and generous bosom.

To top it off, she was teetering on knee-high, shiny black boots that elevated her from 5'5" to 5'11". As she pulled down the black gloves, she felt like there was nothing she couldn't do at that moment, no man she couldn't seduce and bend to her will. It felt amazing.

Desiree's phone chimed. She wrenched her gaze away from her image in the mirror, and picked up her phone.

- Karen tells me you were a good girl. You will be rewarded for that. There is a coat and purse in the wardrobe. Take them, and be downstairs in 10 minutes. -

Desiree was beyond questioning Master's orders. She went to the wardrobe, and found a black leather trench-coat and black patent leather purse, with a fine silver chain for a strap. She inventoried the contents of the purse - a large bottle of lube, a package of wipes, a bottle of perfume, and makeup for touching up her face.

She dropped her phone and ID into the purse, and started to walk to the door. Without warning, the butt plug started vibrating and pulsing even before she reached the room's exit.

Desiree stopped and put both latex-encased hands on the vanity table to support herself. The butt plug was stimulating her prostate, and she was developing a strong, warm sensation throughout her pelvis. All she could do was try not to fall down as the plug pulsed and vibrated.

She remained there for several minutes as her legs weakened and started to tremble. Just as she thought she would collapse, the vibrating stopped, the butt plug went dormant.

Desiree's phone chimed.

- I hope you are learning now. If you do what I want, I am very generous with rewards. -

Desiree composed herself and tottered downstairs to the lobby. The elderly gentleman was still behind the desk, and he smiled and touched his cap as Desiree sauntered past. The large butt plug was having a collateral effect of making her walk in a more exaggeratedly feminine manner.

His eyes showed no surprise; he knew she was the androgynous young man who had entered hours before, but he was so courteous and civil... Desiree really liked him.

Desiree exited the Greystone hotel into the evening air and a fine drizzle. Immediately in front of her, she saw a large black town car parked at the base of the stairs, with the driver standing by the open door for her.

She carefully dashed over to the car in her heels, and got in. As she settled into the thick, black leather seats the driver entered the front and started the car.

"Where are we going?" Desiree asked. "Where is Carl?"

The driver's eyes briefly met her gaze in the rear-view mirror, but he said nothing as the electric engine engaged and the car slowly glided away from the curb.

**

Desiree allowed herself to relax a little as town car cruised through the Manhattan streets. She was glad that it was a cool evening as the latex suit was definitely keeping her warm.

Before long, the car pulled up to a hotel and Desiree saw the people coming and going. Desiree knew of this place by reputation only - it was a popular spot for the senior level directors in Adam's firm, and other glitterati of the New York financial world.

It had a great bar, La Parisienne, originally built in the 1920s and was an establishment known to cater to the wealthiest in the city from time to time.