Spencer's Transformation

I left the kitchen and went into the bathroom. However much the idea of showing my submission by eating swill like a pig appealed intellectually, it still felt good to brush my teeth and swill my mouth out with mouthwash. I stripped off, removed the butt-plug I'd been wearing under my fishnets all night and gave myself an enema. I wondered if I'd be required to take an enema every morning and every night while on tour. I squirted the enema out of my ass, showered, redid my makeup and then took my clothes to the box room.

The box room was next door to the master bedroom. I could hear the tubular bed frame creaking and two voices moaning. Knowing what was going on, but not being able to watch was almost unbearable. I knelt down in front of the dildo fixed to the full length mirror on the inside of the door, kissed its tip and began to suck it. Tonight I was determined to keep practicing until the noise from the bedroom stopped. Maybe I'd repeat my morning session with the dildo I kept for anal training as well.

I met the eyes of the sissy in the mirror as I sucked the dildo deep into my mouth, and gave the pathetic insect the same look of sneering contempt that everybody else did. I deserved it. I felt my throat open and was able to suck the dildo deep enough to press my lips to the molded balls on its base without gagging.

***

The intercom on the wall buzzed around eleven. I'd risen at my usual time, done my anal training, eaten a breakfast of muesli yogurt and fruit out of my bowl on the floor, taken an enema plugged my anus and showered. After that I'd been at a loose end. I'd done some more oral training but couldn't concentrate. Finally I'd dressed in my maid's uniform, sat quietly in a corner and brooded. After a while I realized I was crying as my eyes burned and tears ran down my face. At least I wasn't sniffling or sobbing. I waited until I'd finished and then redid my makeup and fixed my hair. By then it was about ten. I was bored, frustrated, more than a little heartbroken and terrified that this might make me act bratty enough to earn some sort of horrible slave punishment.

"Coffee," Mistress' voice said. Apart from the intercom, the box room contained a wardrobe and chest of drawers, a vanity table, a rug on the floor for me to sleep on, and a small bookcase full of texts I was supposed to be studying. 'How to be a slave' guides, mostly. Just looking at the book case this morning had made my gut twist. There was an alarm clock on top of the chest of drawers. Normally I woke up an hour or so before my Mistress wanted rousing, went through my routine then brought her coffee and woke her by worshiping her feet. I couldn't do that today, of course, though the idea of sucking Kara's toes definitely appealed. "Kara takes hers white with no sugar."

I knew that. "Very good, Milady," I said. "Will Miss Kara be staying for breakfast?" There was a brief pause.

"No, girl, and I will see her off before having mine."

Pleased to have something to do at last I checked my appearance and went to the kitchen. I made the two coffees took the tray to the bedroom, and knocked. "Enter," Mistress said.

I entered. Mistress and Kara were sitting up in bed. They seemed less touchy feely today. Maybe sobering up had something to do with that. Mistress had love-bites on her neck and one on top of her right breast. Kara's neck and breasts were unmarked and she looked very smug. They both had epically disheveled "just been fucked" hair and radiant satiated glows to their complexions. I hoped that I was keeping my face as impassive as it felt. Of course, that might be a problem. Mistress had told me several times that she felt my poker face looked too haughty to suit a slave who was supposed to be completely submissive. I certainly didn't feel haughty, but it was hard not to imagine Kara biting down on my Mistress to mark her flesh. My blue balls were aching harder than my heart now, at least. I wondered whether marking Mistress had been her own idea or Kara's. She knew I had noticed and was daring me to say anything. I knew that I was standing on incredibly thin ice as they took their coffee and prayed that Kara liked hers. For all I knew, Mistress was hoping that I would react and betray myself so that she had an excuse to discipline or punish me in front of Kara. Not that she needed an excuse, of course.

"Fetch Kara's shoes and bag, girl," Mistress said.

"Yes, Milady," I said, curtsied and backed out of the door.

Later, Mistress gestured to her plate and stood up, looking at me with eyes cold with contempt. "Clean this up," she said. She'd pulled on a housecoat and still wore her anklet.

"Yes, Milady," I said. She smiled a cold smile and slapped me across the face hard.

"Clean this up, slave," she said.

"Yes, Mistress," I said. "Would you like me to strip?"

"Not yet," she said. "I like you looking like that, and want to get some more photos before you change. Maybe it's time to clean the bathroom. I can get some film of you scrubbing the floor."

"Yes, Mistress," I said. I added her breakfast things to the dishwasher and switched it on as it was more or less full now.

"Did you enjoy yesterday's meal?"

"I enjoyed not enjoying it, Mistress," I said.

"Good. I've thought of a nice little refinement to your dietary rules. From now on, every time you eat, I want you to fish something out of the kitchen waste and add it to your meal. Nothing that breaks your rules of course. But having a little garbage in every meal should make your status very clear, shouldn't it?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"How does it feel to be a cuckold? As good as you expected?"

This was it, I felt the ice break under my feet and plummeted into cold, dark water I'd never escape from.

"Am I allowed to say that I don't know yet, Mistress? That I'm still trying to grasp it and can't quite understand what's happened yet?"

"No, you are not. I consider that evasive and unhelpful. If you can't provide a pithy description, you may ramble."

"Yes, Mistress," I said. "Thank you, Mistress."

She didn't look amused. "Well?"

"It hurts, Mistress," I said. "It hurts terribly. It hurts far worse than the ache in my balls or the pain in my cock. I'm very jealous. I didn't believe I could possibly be this jealous. I know I shall have to learn to relish and enjoy the pain and jealousy, but I'm not there yet. I spent hours crying this morning."

"Oh, poor, pathetic little insect," Mistress said. There wasn't even a hint of sympathy or even empathy in her voice, and the smirk on her face as she said it frightened me. "Stupid pathetic little sissy slave. You are very right to be jealous. I knew you were a pathetic lover as a man, or something passing itself off as one, but I thought you at least had a saving grace in your oral skills. Those are nothing next to Kara, though. Nothing. You will never be able to perform cunnilingus as well as she does, and she's more into cock than pussy. How does that make you feel?"

"It makes me feel pathetic, Mistress," I said.

"Good. You are completely pathetic, and you will be a far better slave when you're constantly aware of that. For now, you may remove my anklet. I have a lot to think about after last night as well."

"Yes, Mistress," I said. I got down on all fours and hurried to obey.

"After you've put that away, get the camera. We can record some more footage of your transformation. This was nothing, really, and you're acting like it's a big deal. As you say, you're pathetic."

"Yes, Mistress," I said. "Thank you Mistress." I hurried away to her jewel box with the anklet. It felt far hotter than her body heat could possibly make it, and just holding it hurt my hand like all of the bones had dissolves and the chain charm and key were all heavy as lead and sharp as razors.

***

I spent the whole of the second band meeting I attended as Mistress' slave kneeling at her feet. She snapped her fingers a few times to make sure I was paying attention, and petted my head like a dog, which gave me an incredible feeling. The way Earl and Kara were looking at me felt good as well. Amused but concerned from sympathy from Kara and prurient interest from Earl. For all I knew, that was a straight reversal of the way the two of them used to regard me. Kara and Mistress had exchanged a smug glance, but neither of them had said anything. I wondered if Arabella and Earl knew that they'd fucked.

Mistress wore a sort of gothic western sundress in purple with a black trim and white platform raver calf boots with round toes in some deliberately artificial looking glossy synthetic. I wondered whether the fact that her dress and footwear didn't match counted as dressing down. For my part, I was wearing my rubber maid dress and fishnets again, but this time with a pair of courts with open toes, padlocked ankle straps and six inch heels. The heels were murderous and made me glad to be spending the meeting on my knees. I'd made my face up carefully and wore my hair in a braid coiled on top of my head. The fact that I was more dressed up that Mistress felt a little wrong. She had brought a carrier bag when we arrived and I'd taken it down to Arabella's cellar, so I knew that she'd be changing when the meeting was over.

After buying her ranch house with the proceeds of the horror film soundtrack she'd played on for Jack Alhazred, Arabella had converted the cellar into a dungeon. I'd never been down there before, and just looking at the furniture had made my flesh tingle. I'd left the large reinforced carrier bag Mistress had brought with us on a whipping bench and left, quickly. It was an extremely impressive space, and I could see why Mistress had wanted to take some photos for the blog here.

There wasn't all that much to discuss for the meeting anyway. We'd booked a three day rehearsal slot at The Quiet Zone. To my surprise, the fact that I was silenced and no longer entitled to an opinion about set lists hadn't led to anybody insisting on doing any songs with ridiculous fancy basslines. Kara did mention, again, that she fancied us doing a version of Mainlines by the Doctors Of Madness. She'd had an idea that covering that stupidly overlong art glam number would be interesting for a while. Arabella seemed to be warming to the notion, as it would give her a chance to show off her chops on the fiddle, but it was dismissed for this tour which suited me fine. Quite apart from the fact that it wouldn't really fit in with anything else we were planning to play the moaning cockney yowl it was sang in wouldn't really suit Arabella's high, clear and powerful counter tenor. Kara just seemed happy that we'd be taking a shot at it during the rehearsals.

When the meeting ended, Kara was the only band member who left. Mistress petted my head again, looked Earl in the eyes and said "You can pay for its mouth this time, Earl. I've been training its oral skills and it might be able to deep throat you now."

"What a difference a week makes," Earl said with a smile. "How about its ass? is that still off limits?"

"No, that's being trained as well. What are you offering?"

"Twenty dollars for both?" Earl said. The ache in my blue balls suddenly doubled, and I felt the cage around my penis tighten painfully as it tried to stiffen. It wasn't standing on a street corner in a micro skirt and heels, but I was still being whored. This had been a deep, dark fantasy I'd almost hidden from for a long time.

"Try again," Mistress said. "Twenty gets you a blow job."

Earl didn't quite wince, but I suspected a nellier gay man might have pouted a little at that.

"Fair enough," he said. I felt an obscure pride at hearing that. Mistress' hand moved on my head, petting me like an animal. "If it does a good job, I might pay for the other after we're done with your photo-shoot."

"And filming," Arabella reminded him. That was a surprise. Mistress had just told me that we were renting her dungeon to take some photos for the blog. Nothing had been said about filming. It really wasn't my place to sneer at my betters, but I still found the fact that Arabella and Earl were going to filming whatever went on amusing. I was the best photographer in the band, having taken a few photography courses in art school, and even first encountering Arabella when I got paid by a blink and you'll miss it alt.rock magazine for some early shots of Jasmine and the Jackalopes. I'd turned down freelance work at Lizard when I joined Lux Aeturnum.

"That as well," Earl said. I wondered if he was taking part in the filming as well.

"Well, let's get this out of the way first," Mistress said. "Slave, kiss Earl's boots and ask if you can fellate him."

Earl was wearing a pair of cowboy boots with silver toe caps. I went down on all fours in front of where he was sitting and kissed them. "May I please suck your cock, sir?" I said. Earl stood up, took his wallet out of his pocket and put four five dollar bills on the table.

"You may," he said. He unfastened his belt, waist button and flies and pushed his jeans down. He'd gone commando underneath, and was only semi erect. I rose to my knees and began to kiss his glans and massage his penis and balls to get his interest. It soon swelled up to a respectable size. Despite the fact that I was now a girly cross-dressing sissy with a penis that was officially too small to be any use to anybody, I had an idea that Earl, at full extension, wasn't any bigger than I was, or had been if it had started to shrink inside its cage.

I took Earl into my mouth and began to suck. Bigger than me or not, he was still a lot smaller than the dildo I'd been practicing on, and I hardly gagged at all as I took him all the way into my mouth. I cupped his balls as I worked his shaft, sliding his penis in and out of my mouth, and sucking hard on the glans while teasing the slit on the end with my tongue at its most withdrawn and swallowing to get it deeper into me as my lips reached its base. He seemed very happy with my technique, and I soon felt his penis spurt and spasm in my mouth. I waited until he'd finished then removed my mouth from it, swallowed and gave it a last kiss.

"Your slave is definitely learning," Earl told Mistress, and I felt a glow of pride, along with my usual submissive buzz from being talked about like I wasn't there. "I can tell it's been practicing on a dildo not real cocks, though. Ever thought of putting it in a glory hole to get some practice? It could earn you some pocket money doing that as well."

"We're not going to have the time for that with getting ready for the tour," Mistress said, "but it has crossed my mind and it's something I'll definitely look into when we're back. Any you'd recommend locally?"

"I'll send you a list," Earl said.

"Any cheats to eliminate its gag reflex? That'll help with its diet as well making it a better cocksucker."

"There's no quick and easy fix for that. One really easy thing to do to make it a better cocksucker though, is just pierce its tongue. If it's still allowed to lick your pussy that might be something you'd enjoy as well."

Mistress looked at me appraisingly. "That's a good idea," she said.

"I'm sure this fascinating," Arabella said "but perhaps we should be getting on?"

Earl looked chastened. "Sorry, Bella" he said, and turned back to Mistress. "Do you want to go downstairs and get changed, Dee? Give us a call when you're ready to start."

"Of course. Slave? Heel. You can help me change. You're dressed as a maid, so maybe you should try to act like one rather than a desperate teenager."

I stood and curtsied. "Yes, Mistress," I said. "Sorry, Mistress." I followed her to the kitchen and down into the cellar.

Mistress' costume for the photo session was more a matter of undressing than dressing. I was stunned by how little she was wearing when we finished. The white latex opera gloves and stockings were tricky to get into place properly, and I spent a lot of time squeezing air bubbles up from her fingers and up the length of her arms to the cuff below her armpits. We used water based lubricant rather than talc to help the gloves and stockings on. Mistress wore her anklet around her right ankle over the latex, which I knew meant she was advertising a willingness to be ridden bareback. I wondered if an image of her like that going on the blog would mean that she was available to any viewer who took her fancy, and shivered.

We'd registered the blog and set up an account on blogspot, but all there really was so far was a placeholder front page, and a date for the "grand opening" a month after our return from touring the UK with Cathexis. The title "Breaking My Husband" had already been claimed, so Mistress had opted for "Destroying My Husband" instead. The placeholder page was dominated by two full length photos of me side by side: one a video still of me onstage from the first Lo Illorna video, in tight PVC jeans, Blundstones and a silk shirt, all black, miming with a Fender Mustang bass guitar. I'd had my hair in an Eton flop at the time. The other was a photo of me Arabella had taken of me before we left for the band meeting I came out at a week ago: sheer body stocking, high heels with padlocked ankle straps, tape on my nipples, chastity device exposed through the open crotch. Quite a contrast. The band and myself were both named, and there were links to the band site both ways. I wondered how to go about suggesting that Mistress replaced the body stocking photo with one of me dressed as a maid.

Once the stockings and gloves were adjusted to Mistress' satisfaction, she finished off her outfit with a fur coat and a pair of open toed mules with kitten heels, also in white. The coat was a short one in fun fur, just long enough to cover her ass and her crotch if it was closed, though she wore it open, baring her breasts and pussy. The final touch was a gold chain around her waist.

Arabella seemed impressed by Mistress' look when she, Helga and Earl were invited to join us in the cellar. There was already a tripod set up facing the throne Mistress sat in with her legs parted and her hands on her knees looking imperious. To my surprise, Helga took up the place behind the camera on top of the tripod. I heard a click and a whir. Proper film, rather than a digital camera. Mistress shifted her position slightly for a few more exposures, crossing her legs, forming Bond villain steeple with her fingers with her elbows resting on the arm rests, leaning back and looking down slightly at the camera. All classic Dominatrix cliches.

Then I was ordered into shot. "Okay, slave," Arabella said. "Kneel between your Mistress' legs facing the camera. Head lower. Like that, yes." Another click and whir.

"Obey Miss Arabella, her slave and Earl as you would me when they give you instructions until we're done here, slave, is that clear?"

"Yes, Mistress," I said.

"Okay, let's get one of your slave kissing your feet Dee. I know you want one with your feet on its head, but it'd be nice to get a good one of it kissing your right foot that shoes your anklet. Insect, if you move to your Mistress' right and go down on all fours? Yes. Now kiss her toes, no, from there. back up a bit and stretched your neck and your back down. Better." Click, whir. "Again, but lick don't kiss. There." Click, whir. "Tongue out further, slave. That's your main sex organ now, isn't it? Better." Click, whir.

"One of it sucking the heel might be good?" Earl suggested. Mistress laughed. I heard the camera click and whir again as Helga captured her reaction.

"I like that," she said and lifted her foot. I shuffled forwards a little and sucked her heel with my eyes closed, treating it like I had Earl's cock. I felt the charm or key on her anklet brush my face as the camera clicked and whirred.

"We should get a few of you with your heel up its ass as well as in its mouth, Dee," Arabella said. "Show Earl what he's thinking about paying for."