The Club of Fools Ch. 08

Jason closed his gaping jaw and found his voice. "What? Jesus, this is NOT happening. No way...this can't...umm, no. Wait a minute; there's been a misunderstanding, I...? What do you mean, transition?"

Stephanie approached him for the first time. She was actually dressed in white like a nurse and she held a large syringe in her right hand. She said, "Transition...you know, transgender. We bought you to be a trannie prostitute. There's a high demand for that around the world. The hormones start now. In a few months, you'll be unrecognizable as a male. Then, and only then, will we even consider letting you leave this cell. Now, keep your head still. This will feel like a bee sting."

She bent over him. That's when he felt the needle enter his neck and the hot flash of hormone break loose into his male body, raiding the maleness, raping and pillaging it all. He screamed but kept his head still. His body however convulsed in desperation but there was no escape from the sleep sack.

"This, this...is not...real. This, oh Jesus...this can't...be...it's not real." He closed his eyes and expected that when he opened them, a different scene would present itself. Joanie and Stephanie were still there, looking at him strangely.

"Noo!" he screamed.

"Jason, please be quiet, or we'll have to gag you again. Is that what you want? Just get hold of yourself and understand that there's no escape. You might as well relax and enjoy the transition."

"No," he gasped, "What the hell is going on here? I'm Jason Steele. I'm a lawyer. I can't be taking female hormones. This is a nightmare! No, it's a trick, right? Please say it's a trick. Please." He was almost in tears.

Joanie laid her hand on his chest and reassured him, "No, it's no trick. I know it's hard to understand, you know, the first time you're sold, but I paid a lot of money for you and I have plans for you. By the way, you're not a lawyer any more. In fact, you're officially missing. Soon, you'll be presumed dead. And that won't really matter, because that will be true, won't it? The hormones will change you; your body will change; your breasts will grow, and your hips will get larger. Your body hair will stop growing, and for the first few months you'll become very emotional, crying a lot, but that's normal."

"Normal?" Jason said, exasperated. "Nothing about this is normal!" He tried to squirm, but only lumps appeared in the sleep sack where his elbows or hands or knees pressured it. He stopped, out of breath because of the corset's constriction underneath it all.

He continued, "You know of course, that if what you're saying is true, this is way past any of my fantasies, and I have never, ever consented to this. It's against the law, and you'll go to jail for a very long time when I get out of here. And I WILL get out, you know. You can't keep me chained forever."

Joanie, clearly the dominant one of the two, smiled and said, "Well, actually I can. There are many ways. First off, you may not notice, but your chain is shortened at the moment because one of the links is locked to another d-ring outside your cell. Even if you were out of your sack right now, you'd be secured to your spot. When we leave you, we'll unlock that second lock so you can roam freely in your cell, still tethered within your cell. When we return, we'll secure that second lock so we can enter your cell safely and administer whatever we want to administer."

"That's just stupid," Jason said, "I wouldn't let you lock it up again." He smiled in his small victory.

Joanie shrugged and said, "No problem. Then you don't eat. Your choice. But, considering my investment in you, there will be consequences. See those guns on the wall over there? Tranquilizer guns. Wake up to severe bondage. You get my meaning?"

He glanced at the wall. There were indeed two rifles there. He looked back at Joanie in dismay. They would tranquilize him like an animal at a zoo?

While he contemplated that, Joanie nodded to Stephanie and said, "Okay, get him out of this sack."

The slow process of his release from the cocoon felt like he was being allowed to expand. Degree by degree, the tightness diminished until he laid there unzipped but needing help removing his sweaty arms from the internal sleeves. They felt strange, stiff, and useless. He was told to stand up while the corset and bra were removed. The steel collar was heavy at the base of his neck, and when the bra was removed, his breasts flopped down slightly, a weight transition to his chest.

He thought of escape, but the reality of such an attempt would only be that he had overcome the women or just one of them, but was still chained by the neck. What good would that do? And he felt so weakened at the moment. It reminded him of the movie "Finding Nemo" when the fish escaped the dentist's crazed daughter, only to find themselves bobbing in the sea inside sealed plastic bags, saying, "Now what?"

Joanie said, "Victoria told us the breasts can last a few days between reapplying them, so leave them alone. We'll have to endure the fake ones for a while until the hormones take effect and you get your breast implants to augment the small breasts you'll grow naturally. Jason, your enema equipment is in your bathroom. Please remove your anal plug, do your enema, re-insert the plug and have a shower. Shave your body too please. And do your makeup. In other words just resume your regular routines. Study your surroundings; this is your only view for a very, very long time. We'll be back later."

Jason closed his eyes as they locked the cell door. Then he felt a slight tug on his neck chain as the secondary lock outside the cell was disengaged, allowing him the freedom of his cell. They left the large room, slamming the considerable weight of the door with a resounding thud. The room was much larger than his cell, and as he surveyed it for the first time, he realized it was a BDSM dungeon. There were no windows, and the walls were concrete, softened with its bright red paint and numerous heavy curtains and mirrors. Various pieces of bondage furniture adorned the area, as well as numerous hoods, muzzles, straightjackets, whips and floggers. Mechanical winches were along the walls and their cables went through numerous pulleys on the ceiling which he noted was also made of concrete. The curtains gave the room a strange and eerie silence, a deadening of all sound, like a bomb shelter.

This was real. Somehow, this was real. He had been sold. He had been injected with a first dose of female hormones, and he was chained. This felt like a cheap transsexual fantasy novel, one where a guy who had no urge to be a woman, was forcibly and irreversibly turned into one. As he moved into the bath area, his chain rattled on the floor. This was crazy, he thought, but it was real. That was the problem; the craziness was that it was real.

Timing was everything, he thought. He would escape this, but now was not the time. There would be an opening; he didn't know when, but there would be a time. There had to be a time.

He pulled his anal plug out and washed it thoroughly, noting how empty he felt now when the plug was out; it seemed to be important somehow; it filled him up both emotionally and physically. He gave himself an enema as instructed and waited for the effects before expelling. He did it again and later stepped into the shower where he soaped himself up and reinserted the plug. Without even thinking, he shaved his underarms, arms, and legs, like he had done daily for the past few weeks. The water thundered down on his breasts, and he stood staring down at them, mesmerized by the bouncing water drops. When he finished the shower, he toweled off and went to one of the bureaus where he found a pair of panties to wear so he could sit at the vanity hygienically. His face was strange to him, with arched feminine eyebrows, and obviously waterproof mascara which had lengthened his eyelashes to abnormal dimensions. He could have sworn that the hormones were working already, as his chin seemed narrower, and his skin felt and looked softer, but he knew that was impossible.

Oh my God, he thought; he was fantasizing that. He shuddered. If he was going to escape, he had to think in other ways; he couldn't be liking this; he just could not be liking this.

Testing his bondage, he grabbed his collar and chain, pulling on the chain so that it was taut on the d-ring on the bar of the cell. He pulled hard; he yanked hard again, and he caught a glance of himself in the mirror once more. There was no escape. He was locked to a d-ring within a locked jail cell in some unknown address in a strange city with two women who claimed to own him. He was finally reconciled to the fact that this was real. Was this how people mysteriously disappeared, he wondered? No trace of foul play, just a missing person who eventually became "presumed dead"? And could they actually change his hormonal makeup over time that he would grow breasts, lose his body hair, all that stuff?

His penis twitched to life again with that thought. Nothing to fear except fear itself. But in this case, there was nothing to fear except fantasy. He quivered and tried to think of something else.

He sighed and tried to do his makeup, failing miserably, so he sat on the bed and waited. He was going to have to get used to waiting, he realized. For a very long time. His breasts weighed heavily on his chest, both physically and symbolically, and to reduce the strain on his pectoral area he went to the bureau again to find a bra.

He could have ripped the breasts off in a more believable protest to the situation he was in, but instead he donned the bra, fastened it behind his back, and leaned forward to adjust himself in the cups. He was led by his own fantasies, like he had a ring through his nose. It was a pragmatic response to his secret desires. It never occurred to him that his addiction to this was the reason he was here.

He laid on the bed, comfortable in his panties and bra, and slept. This time he knew he was sleeping, in contrast to the la-la land of his sensory deprivation.

Over an exhausting period of time, the collar at his neck grew weightless, the chain all the freedom he needed. The injections continued. Every time he saw the women, he was injected again. He didn't need to shave any longer. Then the soreness started as his breasts grew. His skin became soft and his hair was long and they styled it for him. He never found that moment when he could make his escape. Then with a horror, he realized something fundamental to his psychology.

He didn't want to escape.

He awoke in absolute blackness. What an odd dream that was. Nothing seemed real to him any longer. He felt the steel collar at his neck and panicked, but could not move in the darkness for fear of falling and hurting himself. Feeling his breasts, he calmed himself.

Odd, he thought. Strange thoughts and feelings he was having. He slept again.

Jason awoke bathed in bright light and he squinted in it, sitting up abruptly on the bed. Before he could react further, he felt someone pull his chain so hard that he had to follow, off balance and awkward. When he regained his senses, it was too late; the secondary lock had been secured and his mobility had been reduced to almost zero.

Just then two other females entered the cell. He hadn't seen them before. Each of them had tight latex full hood masks on and they stood staring at him with their hands on their hips, fully corseted in black, and wearing stiletto boots laced up past the knee, a dominatrix fantasy straight out of an erotic novel.

One of the women caused his heart to race. There was an aura to her, or was it the smell of the leather corsets, or those eyes, he thought, so deep, so beautiful...

So familiar.

Jodi spoke for the first time. "Quite a mind fuck, huh?"

Her voice was light and airy, not ominous and sinister like his new owners. He was confused. Dreaming again, he thought.

But after a few moments of focus, Jason's face became a dynamic map of emotions as his jaw dropped and his eyes went wide, first with astonishment, then with relief. "Oh my God," he said, "I've been fucked over pretty good, haven't I? Are you saying I haven't been sold then? Please say that's so."

Jodi measured his emotions and then answered, "Well, technically you haven't been sold."

"Thank God! Wait, what do you mean by that? Please...I've had enough shocks lately."

"Well, the good news is that Joanie and Stephanie don't own you; they're friends of Victoria's...good actresses too, don't you think?"

Jason looked puzzled. "Okay. There's bad news?"

Jodi smiled and said, "Well, you've sort of, like, been given to somebody else."

Jason looked at Victoria and said, "Given away? What's going on here?" His annoyance was obvious.

"To me," Jodi added, "I own you now."

Jason was tired. Fatigue, stress, and reality dulled the blade of fantasy. "You? You mean... Wait, I'm confused here. And you keep talking about ownership. Look, I know I'm submissive and all that, but this mind-fuck (as you called it) sort of woke me up to something. I realize you must think I'm really stupid for letting this happen to me, but you can't "own" someone. Period. It's a fantasy to some, but reality is quite different, believe me. I know that now. I don't "belong" to anybody."

Jodi stepped toward him so that her face was inches from his. She said gently, but firmly, "Actually, yes, you do. You belong to me. I own you. And I intend to make it permanent."

Jason risked punishment and lost his temper. "Okay, you know I enjoy these fetishes of mine, and I like to be forced to do things sexually. We both get that. It's a "given". But this mind-fuck has made me a little short-tempered, you know? You don't "own" me, okay? Fuck you! Look, I'm feeling a bit shaky right now. Get me out of this fucking collar, give me my clothes, and let me get the fuck out of here."

Jodi was impressed. He was a man after all. He was risking losing all the realization of his fantasies and he was prepared to go back to normality, sweet vanilla, no fudge. This made it more fun. She smirked, knowing she still held the hammer, and simply said, "No."

She had called his bluff. Then she said, "Put this corset on. I'll tighten it for you." She held it out for him. It was a thing of beauty, red with black lace, and he reached for it out of fantasy rather than rebellion. He wrapped it around his waist and fastened the busk while the laces were snugged up from behind by Jodi. After a few minutes of pulling and tugging, he was transformed once again, breathless and high on fantasy once again. He felt ashamed that he succumbed so easily. Jodi merely smiled.

Now what, he thought? He continued to feign anger. "Jodi, you don't understand; this has to stop. Now."

"No, I understand perfectly. It's you that doesn't understand. You've been on a journey of increasing awareness over the past few weeks and you've grown to understand yourself and accept yourself as who you are. You can't go back and you know it. And you also know you're not in control; your fantasies are...and I am your fantasy." She walked toward him, ever closer, until her face was inches in front of his. With confidence and firmness, she whispered, "You won't be freed. You can't even free yourself psychologically."

He smelled her, the leather and perfume and the pheromones converging in front of him like a conquering army. Transfixed, he leaned his head forward to touch his lips on hers, but the chain and collar held him back. The clank of the chain seemed to wake him up. "Jodi!" he yelled, exasperated, "For fuck's sake, stop this!"

She held her ground and stared him directly in the eye. "I want to marry you," she said, "I want to own you. In owning you I will love you. I'm making ownership of Jason Steele a permanent thing."

If there was ever a statement that demonstrated "take the wind out of your sails", this was it. Jason recoiled in shock and squinted as if trying to calculate a difficult math equation. Many moments passed and there was silence in the cell. He glanced at the two of them, facial expressions blanked by the latex masks, with only their eyes flashing the truth of the situation.

"You, you want to get, to get married? To, to me? What? Why?" he stuttered.

He softened and said, "Jodi, look at me; you could have anyone you want. I'm a submissive cross dresser who likes being fucked in the ass. I've completely fallen apart. I've had female hormones injected for Christ's sake! You don't want me."

Jodi gave her best impression of Mona Lisa and said with amusement, "Saline water, not hormones. Not yet anyway. That was a mind-fuck; this is real. And I'm a dominant woman who likes to feminize men and fuck them in the ass. And even though you seem to think you've fallen apart, have you? Have you really? Your life was lies and secrets before, and now ask yourself these questions: were you happy then? Are you happy now?"

Jason's face became chameleon-like, not in color, but in changing expressions, as he struggled with the questions. "Jesus Christ!" he mumbled, "Oh fuck!" Even though it wasn't apparent to those present, it became clear in his mind suddenly that he was happy; he needed this, the adventure of it, the uncertainty of it, the sheer outrageousness of it. He needed to be owned by this woman. He had to have it.

"I'm so confused right now, I can't answer..., jeez, I don't know. I can't answer those questions right now," he said.

"You just did. And you know it," Jodi said, "Think about it while you put these on." She handed him a pair of sheer red hose which he pulled up over his shaved legs and attached to the corset garters. High-heeled sandal shoes were laid in front of him, which he also did up, with straps buckled around his ankles.

"Oh my God," he said, "I fucking get it. There isn't any way...is there? Oh my God!"

Jason's thoughts began to galvanize him now, after the initial shock of Jodi's proclamation of marriage. "So, let me get this straight," he said, glancing at Victoria, "Victoria has "given" me to you. My God, okay, I can't believe I'm saying this...Jesus...but I've sort of, you know, been fantasizing that you owned me. But that's just fantasy, right? Fantasy in this case never becomes real. It can't." He paused for a few moments and then added, "I'm totally fucked, aren't I? And you know why I'm fucked? Because I've never been so turned on in all my life...that's why." He paused again and as an afterthought, "What about the videos?"

Victoria piped up, "I'll still have them. Insurance."

"Insurance? Why? I thought I "belonged" to Jodi now."

Jodi explained, "Well, there's a catch. You see, insurance is money, and there's money involved. There won't be a pre-nup' agreement. I'll be part of your family and entitled to what I need, half of your trust fund, all that stuff, if you choose to divorce me. Mind you, with all your fantasies realized, why would you want to leave me anyway? You do understand, don't you?"

"I'm beginning to," he said slowly. Certain videos were on his mind. He could have sworn his corset tightened.

"Okay then. Jason, from what Vickie tells me, your peripheral fantasies include being forced to participate in your prime fantasies. So, in line with that, I'm not asking; I'm telling you what's going to happen. I WILL marry you and you WILL promise obey me until death do we part. In return I promise to love you, dominate you, bind you, feminize you, and treat you as you would want to be treated for the rest of your life. You see? All your fantasies mesh with mine. It's a perfect union."

Jason said thoughtfully, "I see." His eyes softened and glazed, almost with tears as he bowed his head downward in submission and whispered, "I'm okay with that Jodi. I know I'm crazy, but I'm okay with that."