Secrets of The New World Order Ch. 06

Women have a better grasp on reality...men ARE weak and illogical, interested only in money and pussy...women understand fairness for all-peace and tranquility-improving the lives of ALL citizens and not the privileged few...

And then I thought about my Mistresses at work-something is going on there-all these strong and intelligent women in one company is more than a coincidence-they are there for a specific purpose-some other reason than simply running a corporation.

I felt my heart and spirits soar...YES, I am a pantyboy-sissy to these women, and YES-they are far Superior to me and my small mind...AND YES-I want to be on their side when they achieve whatever end-results they are planning.

I not only WANT to serve and obey them-I am proud they have included me in their world!

"Zip-up, boy!" I heard Sarah say to me; I hadn't noticed we'd arrived at the mall and she'd parked the car.

"Yes, Mistress Sarah," I responded.

I walked tall beside Sarah, matching her stride-for-stride as she purposefully walked thru the mall. I noted and took great pride in all the admiring glances she received from men and women alike.

She had an air of confidence about her...not arrogance, but a true sense of herself as a strong woman in these days of male domination. I'd never felt so fortunate to be her boyfriend.

Then I saw where we were going...she was leading me directly to the lingerie store, and my small-minded fears and insecurities gripped me with panic.

The store was crowded with women, I didn't see any other males. I stayed beside Sarah as she marched straight to the area that was stocked with hundreds of pairs of panties. I felt my face begin to flush...I had a feeling something I was not going to like was about to take place.

I stood beside her as she went thru the huge piles of underwear...and then it happened, she found panties she liked, handed them to me and said, "Hold them up and show me what they'd look like on you!"

That's when I almost lost it—-tears came to my eyes as my face burned with shame.

"Hurry-up, boy-we don't have all day!" she scolded me.

"I—I'm sorry, Mistress Sarah," I said as low as possible so the women around us wouldn't hear me.

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU, PANTYBOY-WHAT DID YOU SAY?" she said forcefully, and I saw delight in her eyes; she was going to enjoy my embarrassment.

The women around us heard her loud and clear and spun their heads to stare at us. My heart sank as I realized there was no way out of this-I was trapped in my 'Inside Universe' and had to accept my role.

"I'm, uh, sorry, Mistress Sarah..." I mumbled then slowly held the panties up to my waist and I heard women giggling all around me.

"Oh, isn't he precious!" I heard a woman say.

Another woman spoke directly to Sarah. "He's the cutest little thing-is he trained?"

Sarah smiled and said, "Not fully trained, but we're working on it!"

"Good for you, girl!" replied the woman.

"SARAH—nice to see you, dear!" said a voice I immediately recognized; a voice that made me shrink and cringe with fear.

It was Mistress Sandra, the third most powerful woman at work...the only woman there who used strictly girls for her pleasure...she was my only Mistress who had yet to take advantage of my mouth and hands.

"Sandra, a pleasure to see you-a beautiful Sunday, is it not?" said Sarah. I was always impressed how grown-up my girlfriend acted when dealing with the other women. She turned to me and said, "Johnny, say 'hi' to Mistress Sandra!"

I turned towards the woman remembering a warning from Mistress to void eye contact with her...I looked down at her feet and said, "Good afternoon, Mistress Sandra."

There was another round of laughter from the women around us, and it occurred to me what was going on here.

Much like the day in accounting when Caroline had humiliated me and her co-workers cheered her on, I was again caught in my 'Inside Universe'...the only place where women feel free to express themselves openly without fear of criticism or retribution from men.

It is a daunting universe for a male to find himself trapped; a universe where women will extract revenge on anyone with a penis for their subjugation by The New World Order.

While women have a great capacity for love and understanding, they also possess elephant-like memories of male wrong-doing, and their inherent cruelty can rear its ugly head at any time with little, or no provocation at all.

I heard my girlfriend explain with a sigh, "I'm tired of my pantyboy soiling and staining my underwear with his filthy spunk...it's time he wore his own panties!"

She gave me a pair of ultra-sheer, pink panties and said, "Hold these up for us to see, boy!"

"Y-Yes, Mistress Sarah," I said. It was now about obeying my girlfriend so she wouldn't appear weak in front of other women.

More laughter came from the women as I held the panties before me. The soft and sensuous feel of the material in my hands caused my prick to twitch and jump. I hoped no one noticed.

"Sarah, dear..." I heard the scary woman say, "...it's difficult to see whether they fit him or not without him trying them on..."

I heard women's voices enthusiastically agree: "Yes, he must try them on" and "Oooo, yes-I've never seen a real pantyboy before" and "Make him do it for us girl" and "I bet he looks lovely in pink"...

"What a marvelous idea, Sandra!" I heard my girlfriend say. And then to me she loudly said, "Go to that dressing room over there, boy-take off all of your clothes and put these on and come out and model them for us!"

"Y-Yes, Mistress Sarah," I replied with tears welling in my eyes.

She leaned in close and spoke so only I could hear her: "...and when you come out of the dressing room-you'd better have an erection!"

"Yes, Mistress Sarah," I said in a whisper.

Before I left the dressing room, I stared at myself in the mirror. These panties were much smaller and fit tighter than Sarah's. And I loved the feel of wearing them so much my boner pushed out the waistband in front, totally exposing myself to anyone who glanced downward.

I chuckled sardonically to myself. The only problem I would have had was if Sarah had ordered me NOT to have an erection!

I took a deep breath then forced my mind to go blank. I had discovered early on that to survive extreme humiliation, I had the ability to rise above the situation...to look down on what was taking place and pretend it was someone else performing acts of supreme embarrassment...I called it my 'safe place'-where I could escape and retain a semblance of dignity and self-respect.

I searched out my Sarah when I left the dressing room hands-on-hips; she smiled appreciatively when she saw me slowly saunter towards the growing group of women.

We locked eyes-I saw her love for me and my heart swelled with gratitude and pride.

The women giggled and some even applauded...I listened to their remarks like they were talking about someone else.

"Oh my, what a sissy-is he a faggot, too?" and "Oh look-he's shaved 'down there'!

and "What a tiny dick-you don't let him stick that itty-bitty thing inside you, dear, do you?"

Before I could reach Sarah, the women surrounded me and ran their hands over my hairless body. A couple of them brazenly squeezed my prick thru the panties...one of them went so far as to reach into the tented-open waistband and take my balls into her hand.

"My goodness, the boy has 'hamster balls'" and "My twelve-year-old has a bigger prick than that!"

One woman noticed the fading purple streaks on my buttocks from the last spanking Sarah had given me.

"Good girl-you spank him when he's naughty!" and "I'd love to take the little sissy over my knees!"

The women were becoming excited and plucked panties from the piles and demanded, "Have him try these on" and "Make the sissy wear the red lace ones" and "Have him wear a garter belt and stockings!"

Sarah took from one woman a pair of white, frilly lace panties, and was telling me to go to the dressing room to put them on.

"NO-NO-MAKE HIM CHANGE HERE IN FRONT OF US!"

Other women chimed in: "Yeah, let's see the little faggot naked!" and "I've never felt a hairless dick and balls-let me feel him!"

When I obediently stripped off the pink panties to slip into the white ones, the women took advantage of my nudity and grabbed my prick, and squeezed my balls...my prick was throbbing, and the semen in my balls was beginning to boil from all the touching.

I began to panic-Sarah was not about to give me permission to cum, and I was getting dangerously close to shooting a load and embarrass not only myself, but my girlfriend , as well.

The lace panties felt so good I had to close my eyes and 'will' myself not to climax.

Hands everywhere-stroking my breasts-pinching my nipples-feeling my smooth legs and thighs-massaging my panty-encased buttocks.

"Have him try these on..." I heard Mistress Sandra tell Sarah.

Sarah handed me sheer, red panties and I removed the white ones and slid the red ones up my legs. It took total determination and effort to not climax.

My mind was lost in a fog of desire and lust so strong I saw only stars dancing before my half-closed eyes.

Then I heard Mistress Sandra say, "Kitten, why don't you take his nasty little dinky in your hand!"

Kitten? I'd heard her name before-she was Mistress Sandra's 'slavegirl!

I heard a soft voice say, "If you so desire, my Mistress!"

I opened my eyes and saw 'Kitten' approach me...the women parted to allow her access to me as if they too understood the power and danger of Mistress Sandra.

Oh my God, she's gorgeous, I thought, when I saw Kitten for the first time. The prettiest little redhead I'd ever seen! She was dressed provocatively in a tube top that barely contained her shapely breasts and showed-off her milky white belly, and the tiniest of mini-skirts that did nothing to hide her smooth, and shapely legs.

And then I noticed what appeared to be a dog collar fastened around her neck. My heart went out to her-I could only imagine the horrors she suffered at the hands of Mistress Sandra.

She walked right up to my face with the slightest of smiles playing across her pouty, full lips. She looked like an angel...then she boldly grasped my panty-encased boner and squeezed and stroked it so hard and fast I knew I was doomed—I knew I was about to make a spectacle of myself by cumming in my panties in front of all of these women, and worse yet, Mistress Sarah had not given me permission.

At the very moment my balls contracted and my body stiffened, she leaned in close to me and said so only I could hear her: "Cum in your panties you worthless, tiny-dicked, panty-wearing, sissy-faggot, pathetic excuse of a boy -if I owned you I'd lock your puny balls and dick in a cage and never let you cum again!"

She released her grip on my exploding prick and backed away leaving me alone-the center of attention as my body lurched and jumped and bucked as spurt-after-spurt of hot semen shot from my slit and soaked the entire surface of the red panties.

The women had suddenly become silent when my orgasm began, but as the last of the spasms shook my body, they became animated, and excitedly shouted lewd obscenities at me.

It was all I could do to keep my mind in my 'safe place.'

When it was over, I knew there was only one recourse for my failure to control myself-I fell to my knees and kissed my girlfriends shoes.

"I'm so sorry, Mistress Sarah-please forgive me, Mistress Sarah...I deserve a spanking for disobeying you, Mistress Sarah!"

I continued apologizing and kissing her shoes, but I distinctly heard Mistress Sandra say to my girlfriend, "Tsk-tsk-the sissyboy has a long way to go in his training, Sarah, he humiliated you before all these women...I trust he'll be properly punished tonight!"

And my girlfriend replied with a chill in her voice I'd never heard before, "I promise you, Sandra, after I use the leather strap on him, he'll wish he were never born!"

Mistress Sandra walked away followed closely by Kitten. I breathed a sigh of relief they were gone, but the specter of a belt-whipping loomed large in my mind.

Sarah had given the saleslady a dozen pairs of panties that would snugly fit me and I thought our shopping was finished-wrong-to my consternation I followed Sarah to the 'Brassiere Bar.'

"Sweetie," she said to me, "...wearing panties is one thing, but wearing a brassiere all day will give you a constant reminder of who you are...by the time I'm done with you, you will know exactly what kind of boy you are..."

She found a small stock of size 32-A's and had me try on a red lace one that matched the color of my cum-soaked panties. It was the strangest sensation to feel the soft cups clinging to the contours of my breasts; my nipples hardened as I reached behind me to fasten the clasps.

The few remaining women around us giggled and complimented my girlfriend.

"You go girl-make that sissy as femmie as you can!" and "Damn-I wish I had a little boy I could dress up like a girl!"

There were a half-dozen bra's in my size in stock, but the saleslady assured Sarah another shipment was due in a few days, and when she carried the bra's to the front counter I figured we were finally finished...wrong again!

To my chagrin I found us standing before flimsy, see-thru negligees. Sarah quickly found my size, and collected six of them in different colors. She made me hold them up in front of me-two seconds after I felt the sheer material in my hands I sprung another boner.

"What a little slut!" remarked one woman pointing at my erection. I couldn't tell for sure, but the woman's hand appeared to be furtively rubbing her crotch.

When I found myself staring at lacy garter belts my heart sank. I thought, my girlfriend really is turning me into a sissy!

Six garter belts later, with six pairs of sheer, nylon stockings, Sarah sent me to the dressing room to get ready for the trip home. When I was dressed, and returned to the checkout counter, Sarah handed me several bags to carry, and we finally left the store.

"Sweetie," she said in the car, "...I won't use the belt on you when we get home-I'll use the cane instead...but remember this-ALWAYS be very careful around Mistress Sandra...if it were up to her, she'd have your balls removed-she'd rather have you a eunich instead of a sissy!"

OH MY GOD...

"T-Thank you, Mistress Sarah-Yes, Mistress Sarah, I'll be VERY careful around her!"

My sweet, sweet Sarah put her right arm around me as she drove and pulled me closer to her. At the first stop light, she had me kiss her...she stroked my hair and face and cooed into my ear, "You are the sweetest boy-I know you will make me a proud and happy woman!"

"Yes, I will, Mistress Sarah-I love you, Mistress Sarah!" I replied.

I laid my head against her shoulder. We drove home in silence. I had been forbidden to clean myself and the strong odor from my wet panties wafted up into our faces.

She kissed me again; her lips were soft and pliant; I could feel her trembling body and knew she was aroused; from experience, once she used the cane on me, she'd have me kneeling between her beautiful legs until she became exhausted by her orgasms.

Mary Jane was slightly nervous, but thrilled to be on an airplane for the first time in her life. It wasn't just any airplane, it was the corporate jet and not only was Mr. Mellon on board, but Mr. Pynchon, the most powerful man in Region Eight, as well.

As she stared at the rushing runway outside her window, she felt Miss Bevis take her hand and squeeze; she squeezed her back. Even though she didn't like the way Miss Bevis ordered her around, the girl was smart enough to know not to anger the woman, who had considerable power of her own.

At least I'm not at Happy Burger anymore having to suck-off that pimply-faced asshole three-times-a-day, she thought.

"Finish your water before we take off, dear," the older woman told Mary Jane.

"Yes, ma'am," she replied and obediently gulped down the last few swallows from the water bottle.

She felt a surge of adrenaline rush thru her body as the wheels rose from the runway and the Lear jet darted upwards. She found herself squeezing Miss Bevis' hand harder.

She stared down at Flowerton and watched until it disappeared behind them. The plane kept going higher and higher; she watched in rapt amazement as they soared above the puffy, white clouds. She released Miss Bevis' hand only when the plane leveled out.

Miss Bevis gave her another bottle of water and said, "Drink this-you need to stay hydrated on airplanes."

She wasn't the least bit thirsty, but heeded the older woman's advice.

Ahead of them in the front of the plane, Pynchon and Mellon sat across from one another in comfortable cloth sofas. They sipped Bloody Mary's as they casually chatted.

Mellon complained to Pynchon: "I don't know why we have to go to New York City for a meeting-you guys send out directives and we follow them-we don't need a face-to-face-just tell us what you want and we'll do it!"

"The Baron thought it best to keep this as quiet as possible," replied Pynchon. "...the next step is the most critical one in the entire plan...we need everyone on the same page, and absolute secrecy is of the uppermost importance! It is essential the media sells this plan to the sheeple-they must buy into the notion that national security is at stake-that their very lives depend upon obeying our instructions!"

Pynchon took a swallow of his beverage, smiled, and added, "Besides old man, Rupert promised we both could have some 'quality time' with his star newswoman, Megyn-I'm getting a hard-on just thinking about the blonde slut! Which reminds me..."

Mellon nodded knowingly and said to his Chief of Security several rows away, "PRESTON-tell Bevis she has fifteen-minutes!"

The large woman jumped to her feet and said, "Yes, Mr. Mellon-immediately!"

The sight of Ms. Preston lumbering down the aisle caused Mary Jane's heart to skip a beat. The woman was 6'2" and at least two-hundred pounds of muscle and reeked of danger. To the small girl, she looked as big as King Kong-with a face to match.

The woman spoke brusquely to Miss Bevis: "You have fifteen-minutes, Bevis!"

"Oh, uh, yes, okay, Ms Preston!" she stammered.

It made Mary Jane uncomfortable watching the older woman cower before Ms. Preston...she didn't think Miss Bevis was afraid of anyone.

"Finish the water, dear," she told Mary Jane.

"I'm not thirsty, Miss Bevis, and I really have to pee!" she said.

"Sweetie-"

The look on the older woman's face scared the girl and she tipped the bottle and guzzled the remaining water.

"C'mon, dear, let's get comfortable..." she said to Mary Jane as she took the girl's hand and led her to a plush chair across the aisle. "Sit on my lap, cutie, and give me a kiss!"

The girl kissed her mentor all the while squeezing and straining to hold in her pee. Once the crisis passed, she began to enjoy the older woman's lips on hers, and her hands unbuttoning her blouse to free her pert breasts.

The older woman removed the girls bra; caressed and kneaded the girls firm, round globes and pinched her nipples into proud points.

"Sweetie..." began the older woman, "...it's a three-hour flight to New York, and the men want some entertainment to pass the time-you know how quickly men get bored and distracted-they have the attention span of gnats!"

Mary Jane giggled then sighed...she loved the way Miss Bevis stroked her flesh, but she couldn't help wonder what her role in the men's 'entertainment' would be.

"Sweetie..." she continued, "...do you remember last week when I taught you the 'Puppy Girl Game'?"

The tiny hairs on the back of Mary Jane's neck stood straight-a violent shiver raced up and down her spine.