The Making of Brii Jones

My project for the day was to clean the office. It proved to be very difficult with the nails. Plus with all the sorting, I saw them so much, it was hypnotic in nature...but I found I was getting used to them. It was also strange, but I began to feel comfortable in the yoga pants. I made and cleaned up dinner again. Angie sent me off to watch porn in just my thong again. In the middle of another really good video, I heard her shout, "Get me a drink, now!" I rushed to the kitchen, got her a glass of water, and took it to her in the bedroom. I looked over and saw her computer screen. Angie was connected to what I was watching! For some reason, I was still mortified. "I set this up a few nights ago. I'm tolerating this for research purposes only. To see what makes you tick," she said. "Get out of here!"

The next morning, I went ahead and made breakfast. It was just what I did now. Angie instructed me to open the previous day's package. It was a long blond wig with directions on how to secure it, and make it look natural. This gave me a whole new set of problems, as it was difficult to fix my hair in any sort of manner because of the nails. Angie texted me and told me I still had to work out, and told me to put my hair in a ponytail. I grabbed a rubber band, and after a bit of a struggle, got it into some sort of ponytail, just to get it off my neck. The work out was still really strange. I twisted and turned into all the yoga positions, but each time, my new hair would flip into my face or at the very least, tap my neck. It felt so weird. My workout was again interrupted by the doorbell. I knew better than to ignore it, so I answered it.

It was not the regular guy, but rather a female who was probably in her late twenties. Her name tag said "Meghan," and she'd done a few things to make the standard brown uniform a bit less drab and formless. As such, I could tell she had a great body. Her shorts were a bit short, and she wore tall brown boots with no visible socks. The button up brown shirt was clearly cut for a woman, and while it covered her boobs, it made no secret about the fact that she had a good sized set. Her brown hair was in a ponytail and went through the back of her hat.

"George was right, you do look pretty," she said. I blushed, and signed the screen. "Have a good day, Brian," she said cheerfully.

"You too," I said, and closed the door.

I showered and put on a thong, clean sweat shorts and a spaghetti strap tank top, as that's all I had left. I threw in a load of laundry. Then I fixed and cleaned up dinner. Angie tossed me a baby doll, and told me to let down my hair. That's when I realized there was a problem! That stupid rubber band would not come out! I tugged and tugged, and it really began to hurt, because of how the wig was fastened to my head.

"What the fuck is taking you so long?" she growled. She came over to investigate. "Oh you silly girl, you can't use a rubber band, you have to use a hair tie." She got a pair of scissors and carefully clipped it. It was the first time she'd been a little kind to me.

"Thank you, Angie," I said.

"That's MISTRESS Angie," she corrected me.

"Thank you Mistress Angie," I corrected myself.

"Look at how cute you are," she continued, as she ran her hands through my long blonde hair. "Long blonde hair, smooth silky baby doll caressing your smooth, hairless body, long pink fingernails, and pink toenails...you're a good little sissy," she said.

"Thank you Mistress Angie," I replied.

"You've been very good," she said, and I saw her take out a key and dangle it in front of me. "I'm not letting you out tonight, but if you keep up the good work..." she trailed off. "Right now, I need my sissy to go get a full night's sleep, so shoo!" she said and motioned to the door. It was a great move on her part, to restore some hope for me.

Next few days were quiet. No deliveries. I began to get into a routine with my workouts, laundry, meal preparation, cleaning, and organizing different areas of the house. I got used to the long hair and nails, and just kind of forgot about them. It was like they had always been there, and were a part of me. Very early on, I discovered that if I tried to pee standing up, it would make a big mess because my cock was caged. So one day I sat down to pee, and that had become normal for me as well. My world started to become very small: it is the house. That night when I brought her a snack, she saw me brush my hair back behind my ear, and she smiled.

Next day was Friday. I did my daily workout, and went to the refrigerator to get my food. I noticed there was only lettuce and shakes to eat/drink. Meghan delivered several more packages. We had a little small talk, and I was not quite so embarrassed. Angie texted me and directed me to open the packages. Every single box contained shoes! Not just any shoes, but very high heels. Platform high heels, like strippers wear! Angie must have been sifting more closely through my searches, these were my favorite! There were a few pair that was six inches, several were seven inches, and a few were even eight inches high!

Her next text read: I've seen the stories and movies. Put on your PJs (which meant baby doll), then shoes, you can choose. Lock the shoes on your feet. I had them mail the key separately. I looked in the bottom of the box, and saw locks. I put on my white baby doll, and a pair of the six inch white heels, and locked them into place. I took a few wobbly steps. The girls made it look so easy, but it certainly was not! I walked around, trying to get used to them. My legs and calves cramped up within five minutes, and my feet started to get sore. Angie demanded proof, so I sent her a picture.

For some reason, as I fought with the shoes, I also had to fight with my stomach. I had terrible stomach cramping, and had to go to the bathroom quite a bit. Once she got home, she kept me on my feet. Angie mocked me for clomping, told me to get it right. I made dinner, but didn't get any this time. My feet were very sore by this point, and I had to go upstairs, which was just terrible! Brushed hair back and put my hands behind my back as I waited for her instruction. "I can see your brain is starting to be rewired," she commented. "I mean, your appearance is more feminine, of course. But, your mannerisms and movements are more feminine as well. I wobbled a bit on my heels as I stood there, as my feet were so tired and sore from the shoes. "I see you're not enjoying the shoes," she commented. "What's wrong? All your leather clad dominatrices wear those. Yeah, right. They wear those for four and a half minutes while they pound some slave's ass. Then they take them off. It's all part of the fantasy they create! Maybe we can find some more videos of slaves who have to wear them all day, like you do, that would be fun," Angie laughed. "The fantasy is much different when it's a reality," she continued.

"While we're on the topic, I've been doing some research. I got tired of watching your videos, they are all basically the same," she said dismissively. Some 'poor fool' gets it in the ass from some leather clad bitch. Like anyone's buying that. He loves it, and probably just loves being paid for it. She's always wearing some ridiculous leather outfit and really high heeled shoes, blah blah blah. My research is from a real dominatrix. I came across an interesting article called "Feminizing your Male." I already have the basics down, as you can see, but there's an interesting section called "Anal Training your Bitch." We're going to start doing that," she informed me. "It's something I want to do. It fascinates me. It will humiliate you, and cause you some discomfort. Go downstairs and take care of this," she said as she tossed me an enema. I must have had a look of recognition on my face. "Yes, that was the lack of food, the extra shakes, etc. It's all a plan, sweetie. I don't want to deal with the details, like some do, on this one, go take care of it downstairs and call me when it's done."

I went into our downstairs bathroom, and opened the enema kit. The directions were pretty simple, and I went ahead and cleaned myself, as she had directed me. The process was pretty gross, and did not turn me on at all. Some people like that sort of thing, but it wasn't really my thing. Once completed, I walked back into the living room.

Angie came down with a short, black, cotton skirt and black tank, and backpack. She went over to my computer and pulled up the article. Then she started taking things out of the backpack. OMG! There was lube and several dildos and butt plugs. "I also don't really want to use my hand or fingers," she said, "so I'm not going to do that. You are going to be taking it up the ass frequently with increasingly larger objects," she continued. You will be uncomfortable, but my goal is to train you, not damage you. Despite what you may think right now, I do care for you. That's why I'm punishing you, to correct you. I'm also doing this to get rid of my anger. This is going to be fun for me. If I do this wrong, and I ruin my new toy, I no longer get to enjoy it. So, in a business sense, training you correctly is protecting my long term interest, which is my continued enjoyment of your ass."

"Get over my lap," she told me. "It's says here start with lube, I did that," she said, as I felt the lube running into my ass crack. "It says here start slowly," she read as she took a small dildo out of the bag. I felt pressure on my sphincter, but it refused to give way. Until this point it had been a "one way" orifice. She slowly pushed it until it passed the entrance of my previously virgin asshole.

"OMG!!!! OMGGGGG!!!! OWWWWW!!!" I screamed. She patted my ass and continued to push.

"There, there," she whispered. "You'll take it. You love it!" she exclaimed. Once I calmed down, it wasn't bad. It was just the initial shock and anxiety that had me worried. It really was not very big at all. Mistress Angie worked slowly and used plenty of lube. She worked it in and out for a bit. Then she pushed it in one last time and fixed my thong string so that it held the small plug in place. "Stand up and do a little strut for me," she said. I stood up and took a step.

"Ooohhhhh,oooooo!!" I cooed. I took another step, and was very aware of the plug in my ass, that's for sure! It just felt so full!

"How does it feel slut?" Mistress Angie asked. "Does it feel good to finally have something in your slutty ass?"

"Mistress, it just feels so strange....like so full," I answered truthfully.

"Keep walking," she told me. I walked gingerly around the living room, in part due to the heels, and of course because of the new invader in my ass. "It feels so full?" she mocked me. "Sweetie, that's just the beginner plug, that's nothing. Take a look at this!" she said, as she waved a much bigger, thicker one in my direction. My eyes must have gotten really wide because she laughed, "I have no intention of going this big...unless you really piss me off," she reassured me.

It was still really uncomfortable to walk, so I reached back and spread my ass cheeks and swung my hips side-to-side a few times to hopefully seat the plug a bit better, and get more comfortable. Then I took a few more steps, and it was a bit better.

"You're still not walking like a lady," Mistress Angie scolded me. "Take smaller steps, go heel to toe, and definitely move your hips, put a little wiggle in it!" she told me.

After a brief pause to gather myself, I listened to her words, and began to practice them. After another five or ten minutes, I'd gotten the hang of it, and she was right! When I did it that way, it wasn't uncomfortable. I mean, I was still in skyscraper heels, that I was not used to, and had spent the last several hours walking incorrectly in, and I still had a plug in my ass for the first time, but other than that, I didn't feel the stabbing pain in my ass or feet when I took a step. Once I learned to step with one foot, roll my hips, step with other foot, roll my hips, and repeat, I felt good. I felt sexy!

"There you go, sissy!" Mistress clapped. "I think we're done for tonight. As much as I want to have you sleep in that plug, it's not a good idea for the first little bit," she said. "Come over here and bend over," she commanded. "On second thought, I don't want to touch that," she said with disgust, so I pulled it out myself. "Go wash that nasty thing and then you may sleep on the couch," she told me. I came back, and Mistress was still there. The look on my face must have given me away, as I looked down at my feet. "No, no, sweetie, you're sleeping in those shoes, you love them so much!" she laughed. I staggered across the living room flopped down on the couch, thankful to be off my feet. The silk of the baby doll and the leather of the couch felt good on my skin, and I soon drifted off to sleep.

The next morning I awoke to the sound of Mistress Angie's voice. "If you want your shoes unlocked, get up here now!" she yelled. I jumped up off the couch as quickly as I could. Pain immediately shot through my legs and my calves cramped horribly, but I powered through it and got upstairs in record time. Those things HAD to come off! True to her word, she gave me the key and I unlocked and removed the shoes. A black pair of yoga pants awaited me, so I pulled those up my legs and over my ass. I looked around, and did not see any kind of top. Mistress Angie tossed me one of her pink sports bras. I put it on without question, and she started the workout DVD and lay down on the bed to watch me. "Nice ass, bitch," she commented as I bent down. "I love how flexible you are, that will certainly come in handy later," she warned. "You do have some work to do in that area. That sports bra looks good on you, but you don't really fill it out, we might have to do something about that," she continued.

After my workout, I showered and she said she had a surprise for me on the bed. It was a French Maid outfit! There were stay-up, black fishnet thigh highs, a black Victoria's Secret Bombshell bra, a black g-string, thong, and the black six inch platform heels. I sat down on the bed, took off my current thong, and put on the black one. Next, I carefully rolled the fishnets up my legs. The bra cups looked pretty big, so I checked the tag. It was a 36-DD! That seemed a bit unnecessary, not that my opinion mattered. I slid the straps up my arms and tried to fasten the clasps behind me back, but to no avail. I have no idea who women do that! So, I spun it around, did the clasp in front of me, and then spun it back around and put my arms through the straps.

The dress itself was a mixture of satin and lace, which I pulled down over my head. I put my arms into the short, ruffled sleeves and adjusted the underwire and lace front so that it lined up with my bra. Next, I smoothed the short satin skirt down as best I could. Last, I fixed the choker around my neck, the decorative cuffs around my wrists, and pinned the small hat to my head. I grabbed the feather duster and was ready to go!

I strutted confidently into the living room, where Mistress Angie was seated on the couch with a small, chunky black butt plug in her hand. "Holy shit!" she exclaimed as she looked me up and down. "Do a little spin," she said. "From the back you really could be a girl," she said. "In fact, except for the face and the complete lack of tits...I'd be fooled," she continued.

"Thank you Mistress Angie," I said.

"You need to curtsey when you address me in your French Maid outfit," she said.

"Yes Mistress Angie," I curtseyed. Without being told, I folded myself over her lap.

"Very good, I see you're learning," she said with approval. "One more thing, though. I need you to present me your ass." I looked back at her with a questioning look. "I need you to reach back with your long, pink fingernails, raise your skirt, pull your thong to the side and spread your ass for me," she clarified. I reached back, and did as she had instructed. My butt felt much firmer, probably because of the yoga. "Look at your nice tight yoga butt," Mistress Angie observed. "Look at your long, feminine, pink nails spreading your tight, girlish, yoga butt for your Mistress, very cute," she continued. "Keep it spread," she said as I felt lube run between my ass cheeks. I looked back, and was thankful to see that she had lubed the small, chunky, black butt plug in her hand. A bit of pressure, and I felt the tip pop past my sphincter!

"MISTRESS ANGIE, ughhhh!!!" I screamed. My ass was still sore, and I thought it was too soon since my initial penetration to have to take it up the ass again. "It hurts. It hurts!!"

"Do shut up, slut!" she reprimanded me. "I know what I'm doing. I've read the articles Of course it fucking hurts. I'm sticking something up your ass, and your ass isn't trained yet. That's what we're doing. I am training your ass. It's like when you train anything else, it will hurt at first. You need to fucking deal with it!" She worked the plug most of the way into my ass, then withdrew it most of the way. She added more lube, and pushed it a little further. Mistress repeated this until the plug was buried to the base in my poor ass. Undeterred by my low level moaning, Mistress worked it in and out for several minutes, until she finally pushed it all the way in one last time, and left it in place. Then she adjusted the thong back up my ass, fixed the strings on my hips, and flipped my skirt back down.

"That should help, but you'll have to concentrate to keep that in while you work," she said. The weekly chores had to be done, and I set to work as she rested. I still had to dust, vacuum, do the laundry and all those things proved to be MUCH harder with a plug in my ass and six inch heels locked on my feet! Just as I'd gotten used to the long hair, and nails, she added more things! OMG! Angie came up behind me while I stirred dinner, and thankfully pulled out the butt plug. She really had to pull to get it out, though "What a greedy ass you have," Mistress Angie laughed. "It did NOT want to give up that plug! Guess it just loves being full of cock," she said. After dinner we did some more anal work. This time it was on the couch, and the porn movie was on our main television. When she was done, she tossed me aside, and I fell asleep exhausted.

Sunday, I woke up and got breakfast. I wore the same outfit as the day before, and was thankful that today was my day off of workouts. Today I had to hang out the laundry and take out trash! First of all, both of those things turned out to be very difficult to do with the shoes. Our backyard was private, so I knew I would not been seen doing laundry, but it rush to be outside dressed like that. The trash was a different story. I ducked out the side door and dropped it in the can as fast as I could, OMG! Ironing was also difficult. At that point, it was time for nightly anal work again. That night she picked the movie, and as always, when she was done, she tossed me aside and let me sleep.

The next few weeks were basically the same. Sometimes there were deliveries, sometimes projects, always chores, and always workouts. I noticed that she was spending more time watching movies, like when I was making dinner or doing other chores. I think they were starting to rewire her brain as well. I also noticed myself getting stronger and losing weight, but despite the workouts I felt I was getting softer in the butt, hips, and very much so in the chest. It was to the point where it was uncomfortable when working out. I suspected the shakes. So I mentioned it to her during our nightly anal work that it was hard to workout. "I see what you mean," she said as she looked down my shirt." I've noticed too, that the hormones are taking effect nicely." There are female hormones in your shakes. You have no reaction to that? I see you're starting to accept your new position in life."