Spencer's Transformation

"Of course," Mistress said. "Slave, put your head sideways and face the camera. Cheek on the floor." The sole of her foot moved onto my other cheek.

"Lovely," Arabella said. "Pout, slave." I pouted and the camera clicked and whirred.

"Now stand to the left of your Mistress and lift your dress at the front to we can get a good shot of your deformity in its prison," Arabella said. I did as I was told. "No, eyes down more, and look ashamed. You have plenty to be ashamed about, don't you. Better." Click, whir. "Back on your knees and suck your Mistress' fingers..."

"...look up at the camera and drool." Click, whir. "Good. Dee, are you willing to have a photo taken of your slave with its nose and its tongue up your ass? You'll have to stand up for that one."

"Sounds good," Mistress said. "Something first though." She withdrew the heel of her mule from my anus. "Lick it clean, slave."

I turned and licked. I couldn't taste any shit. Taking an enema every morning and evening was keeping my ass pretty clean, and the heel hadn't gone all that deep anyway.

Mistress waited for me to finish, then stood, lifted the back of her coat and turned to smirk at the camera. I rose to my knees and shuffled into position.

"Perfect." Click, whir. "Maybe lean forwards a little, Dee?" Click, whir.

"You know," Earl said, "maybe a transparent maid's uniform would do well for this? I've seen them in that yellow see through stuff the German fetish magazines are big on."

"When would have been a good time to mention that, Earl?" Mistress said. She pulled her coat closed around her and I heard the camera again. "Before we started doing this, maybe?"

"It's a fair point," Arabella said. "With a translucent dress it wouldn't need to keep pulling its skirt up to show its nasty little clitty, would it?"

"Perhaps for another occasion," Mistress said. "I want one last photo of me with my foot on it's face. Standing up this time. On your back slave, and look towards the camera." I did as I was told. "Skirt up, just so we can see that pathetic little excuse for a dick of yours." I adjusted myself. "Raise one knee a little, slave," Arabella said. I did that as well. Maybe it made the way I'd adjusted my skirt look more natural. Mistress put her foot on my cheek. Her weight wasn't on it. I opened my mouth. Click, whir.

"Flutter your eyelashes a bit, slave," Arabella said. I did and heard three clicks and whirs in a row. "Now imagine there's a big fat cock in your mouth and suck it with your eyes closed. yes, like that." Click, whir. "Now try to look frightened." Click, whir. "Is that the last of the film, slave?"

I stayed still, as Arabella was obviously talking to her own slave, Helga. "Just about, Mistress," she said. "Two exposures left."

I have an idea for two last photos," Mistress said. She took her foot off my head and waved a dismissive hand. "Out of shot, insect." I stood up and backed away.

Mistress took a couple of steps towards the camera. "Nice for a full length shot?" she asked. Helga looked up from the viewfinder.

"Perhaps a step closer, please, Miss Deanna?" she said. Mistress took another step. "Thank you, Miss Deanna," Helga said. Mistress held her coat closed, covering herself. Arabella laughed out loud. "I can guess the second shot," she said. I heard Earl chuckle. Mistress frowned.

"Fucksakes, ya'll," she said, countrying up her delivery for comic effect. "Trynna look Dominant, here."

"You haven't had any trouble so far, Dee," Arabella said. "Ready?"

Mistress nodded, then presumably put on the expression she wanted. I heard the camera's shutter and its motor-drive. She held her coat open for the last photo, and that one was just a click.

"I think you'll have some nice shots for your website there, Dee," Arabella said.

"I better," Deanna said. She went to her bag, which was sitting on the whipping bench with her clothes and the carrier bag she'd put her current ensemble in on the way down here. I was a little surprised when she took the key to the padlocks on my shoes ankle straps and threw them to me. "Okay, slave, strip. It's time for your video with Helga."

I unlocked my ankle straps and undressed. That came as a bit of a surprise. Helga removed the small SLR from the tripod and replaced it with a video camera, then stepped out into the middle of the floor space.

"You're going to make out," Arabella told me. "French kissing, dry humping, the works. Wrap yourselves around each other like Saran wrap and swallow each other's tongues. This is the fee for using my dungeon for your Mistress' photo-shoot, and you have an interest in it as well. Your Mistress will be very unimpressed if you don't deliver, is that clear?"

I curtsied, one leg still in my fishnets which were all I hadn't finished taking off since I was told to strip.

"Yes, Ma'am," I said. "Thank you for your indulgence."

"I want an extravagant display of young love. After you've made out a while, You can eat a banana out of Helga's pussy and lick her feet. She's going to suck your toes and rim you as well, and you get to return the favor. Just follow her lead, as enthusiastically as you can. I'm sure it'll get your boipussy twitching and pulsing ready for Earl."

I got rid of the fishnets, stepped into Helga's arms and waited for my cue. My penis twitched painfully as she ground her pussy against me while we waited for Earl to adjust the video camera to his and Arabella's satisfaction, and she ran her split tongue down either side of my nose. Her teeth weren't in, of course. I fingered her pussy and confirmed that she didn't have a clitoris. Maybe her labia had been trimmed down as well.

"Okay, we're good to go. Action, you crazy kids!" Earl said, and Helga and I started sucking face. Her split tongue felt really weird in my mouth, and I ran my own tongue around her naked gums. It wasn't a wet kiss, but we moaned and groped and fondled each other. Helga's enormous silicone stuffed breasts dug into my chest and I could feel her hands stroking my balls as I squeezed her buttocks. The notion of eating a banana out of her pussy and going down on a woman with no clitoris felt really abusive and unpleasant in ways that the fact it wasn't my decision didn't help any. Of course, Helga may well have felt the same way about licking my balls. Helga, I was sure, was every bit as enthusiastically lesbian as her owner, and was probably the sort of fundamentalist gap lapper who saw making out with something that still had a dick even if it wasn't really a man any more as a lot more defiling and degrading than anything her Mistress did to her. She stood on her toes as I butterfly kissed my way down her throat and chest to suck her nipples. There was a long, thick double ended dildo waiting for us to go down on all fours and shove it up each other's assholes. Mistress and Arabella had been firm that they wanted it to completely disappear and our buttocks to touch. That was a foot of rubber cock each. I didn't think that was really fair, as being butt-fucked would do a lot more for me than it would for Helga.

Earl's penis in my anus felt really good. I could feel my last shreds of masculinity wither and shrivel away as Mistress watched me pant and moan as he fucked my ass. If he was just a little bigger, I was sure I could have come. He couldn't quite reach my prostate. I bore down as hard as I could to squeeze his penis as he drove into me. I just hoped that he felt he was getting his money's worth. He'd already lasted a lot longer doing this than he had in my mouth, which was hardly surprising.

We were doing this outside in the yard. Arabella was willing to tolerate a blow job in her house, but all male sodomy was beyond the pale and she'd told us to take it outside. I was on my hands and knees, naked apart from my device and could still taste the banana I'd eaten out of Helga. Going down on her mutilated, bone dry pussy had been one of the strangest experiences I'd ever had.

Mistress, back in her boots and dress, but still wearing the latex gloves, crouched in front of me and lifted my chin, looking into my eyes. "Are you enjoying being butt-fucked?" she said.

"Yes, Mistress," I admitted.

"Earl has paid to fuck your ass because he knows that you're gay. As a faggot and a whore, do you feel you have any right to object to being cuckolded?"

"No, Mistress."

"Remember that. You're gay now. I don't think you were ever really straight, and the idea that you needed coercing or forcing into doing this is laughable. You're loving this, I can see that in your face. Now, tell me what you are. I'm sure Earl will enjoy hearing that as well."

"I'm a sissy faggot, Mistress," I said.

"And why is that?"

"Because I love cock, Mistress. I love sucking cock, and I love cock up my ass."

"Good. I'll see to it that you get a lot of cock in England. I might even arrange something before then. Won't that be nice?"

"Yes, Mistress," I said. I felt Earl's cock pulse and squirt inside me. The feeling of his semen spraying into the bend in my colon was really weird.

Earl withdrew and I licked his penis clean before he put it away. Mistress smiled indulgently then strode over to the Toyota and opened the trunk. "In," she said. I got in. She didn't warn me to mind my fingers as she closed the lid on me. There was a brief pause as Earl said something I didn't catch over the noise of the lock catching and the trunk slamming down.

"Because, Earl, I don't want the little fag's ass oozing come on the seat on the way home. No offense."

Earl laughed, which must mean that he found that more funny than offensive.

***

The cane hissed through the air as Mistress flourished it. "I don't want you to think this is a punishment, slave," she said. "You haven't done anything wrong, or wrong enough to need correction anyway. I just want to cane you. I don't need any reason other than that, do I, slave?"

"No, Mistress," I said.

"Spread your legs, no a little more than that. Good. Grab your ankles."

I did as I was told. As usual during daylight hours at home, I was wearing a waspie corset and high heels. It had been less than a week, but I thought the corsets might be starting to reduce my waist a little. The cane brushed across my buttocks, running from one to the other with a gentle, stroking pressure. I couldn't stop myself shivering.

"That's okay, slave. You can shiver and wriggle and twitch while I do that. Shake that ass for me."

I wiggled my bottom. I felt her finger on my bottom now, probing between my buttocks.

"You have a nice, tight little bottom, slave. I'm sure it'll look great with some welts. This time I am going to take some before and after pictures. A cane is a lot more painful than a crop or a paddle, and I'm going to aim where it'll really hurt. Just here."

The cane hit my bottom, but not with a full stroke of the cane. Instead Mistress pressed it, quickly and firmly but softly into the creases where the tops of my thighs joined my buttocks. I shivered again. The cane left me, and I heard a whir as a camera extended its lens and a couple of clicks.

"Before we begin," Mistress said. "Get up and take your shoes off. If I hurt you enough, you might break a heel or scuff the floor shuffling your feet. And I plan to hurt you a lot."

I straightened up and took my shoes off. Mistress took them from me and put them to one side.

"Back down. Legs spread, hands on ankles. Wiggle some more." The camera clicked again, then beeped. Mistress was filming as well as taking still photos. I shook my ass from side to side until the camera beeped again and she told me to stop. "Lovely. It's a progression, you see? A collaboration. As you become more comfortable with slavery, with unthinking obedience and total submission, I have to become more Dominant. Colder. Harsher. Crueler."

The cane hissed and I flinched, but it didn't touch me. "I'm going to really hurt you. I intend to draw blood and turn your ass into hamburger. Afterwards, you're going to kiss my feet and thank me, and before..." she trailed off and I knew exactly which of her smiles she was smiling when she continued. "Well, what does a slave do before a caning?"

"It begs, Mistress," I said. "An obedient slave begs for discipline."

"That's right," Mistress said. "I'm waiting, slave."

"Please cane your worthless slave, Mistress," I said. "Please beat it until it screams and cries. Please hurt it and show it its place."

"With pleasure, slave."

My whole body was tensed up, but the first stroke still made me squeal. It felt like the cane had sliced through my buttocks like a knife.

"Thank you, Mistress," I gasped. "Please strike me again."

Mistress giggled. "Oh, we can forget that. I know they do that in all the videos on the pay-sites, but that's for show. I plan to have you incapable of speech by the time you've taken twelve strokes."

It only took her eight strokes to reduce me to tears. I wasn't sure how many it took her to draw blood. I felt very faint when she finally stopped and took a few more pictures and then had me wiggle my bloody, welted and bruised ass for her a second time.

***

Mistress sat at the Mac Book with a smug look on her face. I'd told her the password to my account and she was examining my bookmarks on Safari. I wondered if she knew how to check my history to find the websites that I hadn't bookmarked.

Mercifully, she seemed indulgent about that, so far at least. "The nice thing about Macs and Keychain," she said, "is that I can log into your email and other stuff as you with just your account password. It remembers all that stuff. Of course, I think you should write down all of your usernames and passwords for me."

"Yes, Mistress," I said.

"There's a manuscript book and a pen on top of the desk in the corner. Write down all of your online passwords and account names. Any that don't match what I find on here you're going to regret, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Mistress," I said.

"When I accept you as my full time, permanent slave," Mistress said, "I'll change all of the passwords anyway. You don't need an online presence, except as my slave and property. But it'll give it more of a sense of occasion if we wait until then."

I went to the desk and picked up the pocket notepad and Cross ballpoint, then looked at Mistress. She smiled a cold, contemptuous smirk.

"Don't worry, I won't make you sit down on a chair to do that. I'm sure my sissy slave's poor girly bottom is still awfully sore. Kneel at my feet, where you belong and fill it out. Don't forget anything, either."

My bottom was definitely still sore. The bruises from my first caning were still there, and I had no idea how long the welts would last. I knelt at Mistress feet and began to write, hoping that I'd remember everything. This was the first time I'd ever written down my paypal password anywhere.

"Looking at some of your bookmarks on the pron sites, you want me to be a lot harsher with you, don't you?"

"Yes, Mistress," I said. I did, but maybe not as harsh as most of the porn I'd looked at. She was seeing a list that massively favored various flavors of femdom.

"Well, I shall certainly try. Is your hard drive, or any of your little USB sticks password protected?"

"No, Mistress."

"Go fetch, then. I shall look through those then. I'm sure they're full of hints on how you expect to be treated as a slave, aren't they?"

"Yes, Mistress," I said. If I'd had warning about what I'd be going into, I might have wiped some of that stuff. They were full of porn that I didn't want to keep on the Mac's hard drive. Some of it was really vicious, the text files in particular. I got the hard drive and the thumb drives and put them in front of her on the coffee table. My heart skipped a beat as she connected the hard drive's firewire line to the Mac Book and looked at the files and folders on it.

"Wow," Mistress said. "So much expense and effort to preserve this sort of vile filth. You really are scum, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Well, you don't need any of this any more. I will certainly never allow you to masturbate again, and if I sell you on, I doubt anybody else who'd think a piece of shit like you is worth owning would either, Kiss my feet and beg me to wipe it."

I kissed Mistress' feet. They were bare in the house, and the feel of her skin and toenails under my lips made my cock twitch in its prison.

"Please wipe that hard drive and thumb drives, Mistress," I said. "They show your slave's dishonesty and lack of respect in fantasizing about women who are not its Goddess."

Mistress smile and stroked my cheek. "Perhaps later," she said, "after I've studied this and worked out how to apply your sordid fantasies. Aren't I good, indulgent slave owner? I'm going to find stuff on here to humor you with."

My blood ran cold. There was a castration video on there somewhere, among a load of CBT clips. Stories about abducted wimps being turned into Kajiras by Goreans who thought sissies were better cocksuckers than girls who were born female. Videos from at least half a dozen pay sites showing appalling (and mostly faked) abuses of male "slaves". For some reason, the thought of Mistress looking through the lesbian S&M videos scared me even more than the awful stuff in the femdom videos being done to me. A misogynistic attitude probably wasn't submissive enough to suit my new role, and having masturbated over other women was now probably unforgivable. The stories were worrying as well: they didn't have to pretend to be realistic and often described physical transformations and modifications that weren't possible or legal.

Mistress worked the Mac Book's track-pad. I couldn't hear anything from the speakers, so I assumed she was looking at a text file, not a video. "Oh, slave," she said. "You have no idea how much you're going to regret saving all of this vile shit."

I was sure Mistress was right, but I already regretted it immensely.

"But of course, it will give me some useful hints about what you want and expect as a slave, won't it? I'm sure that there's nothing in any of this that you won't welcome being done to you, and the nastier a story it is, the more arousing you find it."

The smile Mistress was wearing was the coldest I'd ever seen her face. It was all I could do not to start crying looking at it.

"As my slave, you exist for my pleasure, not your own. But I'm not an ogre. I'm quite willing to let you enact some of the fantasies you've preserved here, if they sound amusing or fun. Think about how generous and indulgent I am to humor a slave like that."

I was unable to think of anything else as I watched her work her way through the hard drive wiping most of what was on there but saving some files for further reference. Her smile grew colder and colder and I prayed that she was just teasing to psych me out. If so, it was working brilliantly.

It was also pushing me deeper and deeper into subspace. Watching Mistress destroy a collection that had taken years to build up might have had something to do with it. After she'd wiped most of what was on the hard drive, she started in on the sticks.

"Are these just over spill, slave, or is there stuff on them so foul that you didn't want to mix it with the rest?"

I took a deep breath before answering. "A little of both, Mistress," I said. She arranged the thumb drives into a row on the coffee table next to the laptop.

"Break them down for me, insect," she said.

"The two sixty four gig Kingstons were stuff that wouldn't fit on the USB drive. I was thinking of getting another. The no name rubber one," her hand move and rested a finger on a drive with a squared off white rubber casing and a cap, "Yes, Mistress, that's the one. That's a four gig drive and it's full of text stories. I wiped all of those off the hard drive after I put them on that."