Consent Ch. 06

Jack was trying to take all this in. "Jesus! What's waist training by the way?" he said, as he held out his left hand for Johanna to begin his nails.

"All you have to remember is 23 hours a day. You'll be corseted for 23 hours every day, slowly increasing the tightness until your waist is where I want it. Then we maintain it there."

"What's my waist now?"

"Twenty eight inches."

"What do you want it to be?"

"Twenty-two to twenty-four."

He looked down at his torso and then looked into one of the mirrors around the room. "Is that even possible?"

"It'll take weeks, perhaps months, but I'll get you there. I've decided you'll look best with D cups for your bra, and I'm going to order small paste-on silicone hip enhancers to fill in that funny narrow spot between the top of your femur and your hip bone, so the corset rounds the top of your hips nicely. I'll have you passing in public within a month or two."

"Public? I didn't do very well in the elevator yesterday. That scares me."

"Good," Johanna said with a smile. God he loved her dimples.

Then they fell silent. It felt good to have his nails done like this. It was like a hand massage, and occasionally his eyes drooped and his head jerked downward in micro-sleeps. Finally she was done and he held his hands out, with new gel fingernails, sleek and freshly painted bright red, glistening in the stark light of his cell. He felt a thrill of change, of permanence in his reconstruction. His hands were unrecognizable as Jack's, perfectly suited for Jackie. He waved them around to dry the enamel polish as he had seen many women do.

"Now your eyebrows. You're not going to like this; I guarantee it."

She was right. It was agony, but he persevered until the end of eternity when she said she was done.

"I've scheduled electrolysis for next week, so your eyebrows will be permanently arched and narrow like this. For now, this is okay though."

Over the next hour or so, Johanna applied makeup to his face while explaining what she was doing and the reasons for it. Sometimes she would remove it all and get him to do it himself, occasionally with laughable results. But in the end, his face was completed and a short dark wig was placed over his head and brushed out. His lipstick tasted vaguely like cherry and his eyelids were heavy with mascara as he stared at himself in the mirror for the first time as a reasonable likeness of a woman.

"My God!" he whispered, "Oh my...I can't fucking believe this!"

Johanna's thoughts were way ahead of the present, so she ignored him and said, "Now, today I want you to put on a girdle, garter belt and nylons, along with your bra and breast forms."

"Yes ma'am," he said quietly.

"Get dressed. When I come back, I'll lock your bondage mittens on again and take you out for some play time."

"Yes ma'am," he answered again, his voice trembling with excitement. His penis was already at half mast, and instinctively he briefly held it with his right hand, clumsily digging his unfamiliar nails into it, causing an involuntary gasp to escape his lips. He couldn't wait to get dressed.

Afterward, dressed as instructed, his hands were inserted into the rubber mitts and locked behind his back. The new nails were digging into his palms within the bondage mittens. Now completely helpless again, Jack asked what he was going to be doing today. He was curious because Johanna was not dressed in dominatrix gear as before; she was simply dressed in a black skirt and loosely fitting blouse, with taupe colored hose and sensible heels.

"Let's just say you'll be an ornament, perhaps a useful one," Johanna said with a smile. Then she led him away, a leash attached to his steel collar.

Today she took him to the first room in the dungeon, the one just inside the large airtight door at the entrance to the former bomb shelter, the room that seemed to be a lounge of some sort. Three other ladies were seated on sofas and chairs, all of them dressed in conventional vanilla attire, one in a dress, and the others in Lulu Lemon types of exercise wear. Coffee steamed in mugs on a coffee table, and the room was filled with its aroma.

One of them said, "Ah, so this is the surprise you were talking about!"

"Ladies, my new slave, Jaqueline. She'll be at our service for the day."

Jack, helpless as he was, was mortified. This didn't seem like a dungeon, and the women weren't even dressed for domination and abuse. For all intents and purposes, the room seemed normal. Except for him. He felt like he was in someone's living room. To make matters even more humiliating, they didn't even acknowledge that his bondage was unusual; it was simply expected that a slave should be presented in this way. And of course, his penis grew and throbbed inside his girdle.

"She has a penis," one lady said, with only mild curiosity, "Is she fully trained, or are you training her now?"

"I just got him the other day. He's, uh...she's consented to be my slave and I'm working on defining her role and her limits." To Jackie, she said, "You consented to be my slave, didn't you dear?"

"Yes ma'am."

Now they got more curious. An older lady, perhaps in her late forties or early fifties, the one in the black dress, got up slowly and came to inspect him. She was tall, thin and still attractive, despite her age, and she stood in front of him staring into his eyes. She touched his face, just along his jaw line, then ran her long fingernails down and over his lipstick and into his mouth. He didn't know what to do, so he reflexively closed his mouth on her fingers and sucked like a whore.

She smiled and pulled her fingers out, moving down to Jackie's breasts. "And are these real?" she said, her voice a sultry contralto.

"No ma'am." He swore he could feel her fingers as if his breasts were real, and he closed his eyes in the fantasy of that.

"Will they be at some point?" She touched his stomach.

"Ma'am? I, uh...n..." he stuttered. The question pulled him from fantasy into reality, forcing him to consider something that he had never really considered.

Johanna's voice came from behind him. "Yes, of course," she said, "I have him scheduled for February if all goes well with his training."

The older lady smiled again at the shocked look on Jackie's face. Then she said, "Good. Very good. You'll make a very good trannie slave, Jaqueline. Johanna is a good owner; you be good to her."

Jack's heart was beating very fast and his mouth was dry. Breasts? February? "Yes ma'am," he said. Then to Johanna he simply said, "Breasts? As in implants?"

Johanna looked at him as if he were insane and said, "Of course! I want a trannie that's as real as possible. Get used to the idea."

"But I never consented to..."

Johanna cut him off. "You know you have. You want this. You want all of this. And look at you; your erection betrays you. It's what you want." She shrugged and walked out of the room, leaving the three women to run their hands over him and even lightly rub his penis.

He should have left at this point, but there were two reasons he didn't: he didn't want to, and his desires kept him there, not really two reasons, but each a shade different.

Johanna returned, wheeling some sexual furniture that he had not seen before. She helped him get on his knees and then pushed his chest down upon a padded bench, like a footstool but with straps that were now tightened over his back underneath his bound arms, so he couldn't get up. Next, she unlocked his wrists and bound his upper arms to the front legs of the bench, and his knees to the back legs.

The next item was as bizarre as it gets. One could describe it best as being similar to a wood lathe on wheels. The wheels squeaked as it was positioned so that he faced one end of it, with the other facing his rear end.

"Wait! What the hell is this?" he asked with alarm, but there was no response. He couldn't move a muscle and knew that he was about to be an amusing ornament to those present. He couldn't tell what was going on behind him but he heard all the women exclaim things like: "Wow!" "Brilliant device!" and other equally mysterious statements.

Johanna took advantage of his hind-blindness by positioning the device pointed directly at his available anal opening. Pulling his girdle down and his anal plug out, she attached a large artificial penis onto the end of the "lathe", lathered it and his opening with lubricant, and started turning the crank. She watched with delight as it approached the spot in slow motion, like a space docking exercise. The tip slipped into him before he even knew what was happening, as its predecessor had enabled the ease of penetration.

Jack squealed as the intrusion slipped inexorably into him with every crank of the handle. He was hoping for, and waiting for, the relief of sphincter closure over a much smaller diameter shank of the artificial device, as he was accustomed to that with the anal plugs. But that relief never came. Instead he was simply skewered with a very realistic penis about eight inches long. He gasped and screamed but couldn't avoid the onslaught, which only stopped when the penetration was complete.

"Please ma'am!" he yelled, "What is that? It hurts!"

Johanna was now in front of him and she knelt down to comfort him. "It won't hurt for long. You'll get used to it. And after the day is out, you won't even know it's there. You'll see. The point is that you do what I want. Is that clear?"

"Oh God, please!"

She turned the crank one more full turn. "Any more complaints and it goes tighter."

"Oh God! Oh Jesus! Yes...oh jeez, yes ma'am." There was no escape.

Now a similar device was aimed at his mouth. His eyes revealed the horrible understanding of what was about to happen.

"No. Please...no!"

No lubrication was necessary at this end. She cranked the device until the tip of the realistic looking penis pushed against his lips and face. He tried to escape it by shutting his mouth and turning his head to the side, but she laughed as she pinched his nose. This forced him to breathe through his mouth but it didn't solve the angle of his head. So she pulled his ear and the penis entered his mouth, crank after crank until he couldn't move his head, nor could he pull his head back.

"There. You can't win this Jackie. You're skewered...a cock in your mouth and one in your ass, and you can't move. In fact, I told you that you would be an ornament. Not quite so. You'll be useful, and I now declare you a footstool. Ladies?"

He was in front of the sofa, and he felt four feet land on his back while they all laughed. "Well done Johanna! Brilliant! Can we play with him as well? Because I see he is surprisingly erect below his "table top". The older lady was astute in her observations, and Jack struggled to extricate himself from the embarrassment of being aroused by this. It was worse than the humiliation itself.

"Later," Johanna said, "he will suffer for a while first. Then you can give him an orgasm so he feels this humiliation on the satiated side of fantasy, a truly humiliating event. He'll learn to associate these feelings with orgasm and become imprinted by it. It's exactly what you taught me Gwen."

The older lady, Gwen, was crouched down in front of Jackie and running her fingers lightly over the mascara on his eyelashes while holding a coffee in the other hand. He blinked and squirmed and groaned. That's when he noticed Louise again. Who the hell was that woman? She always showed up with the fucking video camera.

Something warm was set upon his back.

"You're a very useful slave. A footstool and a coffee table...and if we choose, orifices for sexual gratification. But you aren't human. You have to understand that. You are important only in how you serve; that is all." Those words of ultimate humiliation from Gwen angered him and he made a last ditch effort at a supreme struggle. It lasted about fifteen seconds before he became still and whimpered.

Johanna watched and marvelled at Gwen's abilities in domination. She was truly the best, and she was grateful that she herself had been trained by her, as were the other girls invited today for a formal "breaking in" of this new slave. It was truly perfection in Femdom.

Suddenly she saw something that could be very bad for Jackie. The coffee cup wobbled and the coffee level raced rhythmically to opposite sides of the cup as Jackie struggled. She felt obliged to warn him.

"Jackie! If you spill the coffee, it will not turn out well for you! You have to understand that you are a piece of furniture today, nothing more, nothing less. Furniture does not spill coffee; people do. And you cannot be a person today...at least not without consequences. Stop moving!"

Jack listened, but he had crossed the anger threshold. He was furious, and well removed from sexual fantasy when he rippled his back muscles as the only protest left to him. When he felt the hot liquid on his back, he didn't care. He heard the cup hit the floor and break, and then he heard the admonishments of the women in the room. It was universal, and they were outraged.

"How dare you!" said one.

"You little shit!" said another.

Gwen just calmly said, "Get the riding crop and the flogger please. This girl needs to learn a lesson."

Surprisingly Johanna spoke up in his defence. "I don't think you need to do that Gwen. The duration of this will be enough to punish him."

Gwen was kneeling once again and staring into Jack's eyes. She slapped his face, once with a forehand, and once with a backhand. He squealed, but his eyes betrayed fear, as it was apparent that one did not cross this woman.

She repeated her request, only louder, and with a supplemental request. "Get a flogger, riding crop, and a bamboo cane! Now!"

Johanna knew that tone, and she ran away quickly to get the implements.

Gwen started slowly with the flogger so that it didn't hurt at first. Then she speeded it up and increased the severity until Jack was making guttural sounds, a cross between squeals and groans, as his upper buttocks turned crimson.

"Jackie," Gwen said, "you are a slave, nothing more. Suck that cock! Suck it!"

Now the flogger was replaced by the riding crop, and it descended over and over again, creating reddish streaks on the already reddened glutes. He instinctively did as he was told, pulling his head back as far as he could, then forward, working the penis as if it was real. With each suck, he squealed in vain.

She kneeled in front of him again and tilted her head as she asked him, "Did that hurt?"

Not waiting for an answer, she said, "That was the warmup. NO slave should EVER disobey his mistress. EVER! Is that clear?" To Johanna she said, "Remove the penis from his mouth."

She glared at him. "Now...is that clear?"

"Please," he panted, "please stop ma'am. Jesus it hurts!"

"Not the right answer!"

The bamboo cane came down with a thud on his already wounded upper buttocks. As she pulled up to strike again a red stripe appeared. He screamed. He wanted to say that he understood, but the cane came down upon him too fast in succession, only allowing the screams to escape his mouth.

A slight pause.

"Please!" he gasped.

"Wrong answer!"

His buttocks became a mess of stripes and welts, just short of bleeding, and he descended into continuous moans and groans, with tears streaming down his face. She stopped again and returned to her position in front of him.

"Well?" she said.

"Please Mistress, please...I promise to obey you. Please stop!"

"Not good enough! You have to obey all that are above you...all of us, and especially Mistress Johanna!" And she got up to deliver more blows.

But before she could he screamed out, "I am a slave. I'll obey all of you! I'm sorry...I'm so sorry! Please!"

Gwen put the cane down and positioned herself in front of him again, this time speaking gently. "Very well Jaqueline. Open your mouth please."

The penis was re-inserted and secured in Jackie's mouth and Gwen sat back down on the sofa, placing her feet on his back as if nothing had happened. Jackie struggled to breathe through his nose because of his outbreak of tears, but he was silent and beaten.

"It's 2:00. Since the slave spilled my coffee, I want some wine. Would you get some please Johanna?"

Johanna, as well as the other two women, were staring at Jackie's mutilated ass in awe. It should have been bleeding, but the beating had been so expertly administered that there was no open flesh...at least not yet. The welts were high and time would tell.

"Yes ma'am," Johanna said as she rushed away.

Even in Jack's shocked state, he was amazed to hear his owner speak in a subservient way. He correctly placed himself as the lowliest of the low based on that, and determined to do one of two things: either remove his consent to this whole thing with Johanna, or agree to obey her from now on. For now the second option was paramount and necessary, so he concentrated on that.

The wine glasses were placed on his back all afternoon and he stayed as still as he could. Not one drop was spilled.

At 5:00 Gwen removed his mouth penis and brought him to orgasm while he repeated over and over again, "I will obey my mistress. I am a slave. I must become a woman. I am a woman."

She caught his ejaculate in her wine glass and held it to his lips to drink. He drank the salty mix and swallowed as the penis was returned to his mouth.

The women partied till midnight, pausing only to allow Jackie to devour a protein drink at 9:00. It was his only sustenance since breakfast and his head swam with weakness and lack of clarity. It was intentional, as his will to resist his psychological changes diminished quickly. He was brought to two more climaxes through the evening, and as he was returned to his cell, all he could remember was the orgasms and his service to them. They were linked.

His buttocks now bore the scars of disobedience, not cruelty, as he didn't see it any other way now. If he had been obedient, the beating wouldn't have happened. It was his fault and he decided to be obedient to avoid that punishment in the future.

As he lay on his stomach on the bed with his hands cuffed behind his back once more for the night, he tried to remember what the other choice was...to obey or to...something...what was it? There was something else he had told himself to remember, a decision he had to make, but it was gone. The pain killers that Johanna had given him started their work.

So tired. So sore. Never again. He wondered what tomorrow would bring.

So tired. One thing for sure, this was serious and he had to treat it that way. As unbelievable as it seemed, he came to realize that this was it; he was a slave, and there wasn't a fucking thing he could do about it. So many bridges burned now, nothing to go back to. She had him.

He must obey. It was his only path to...something...anything really...was it happiness? Breasts. He was to have breast implants. Jesus! He was to be a transsexual prostitute.

So comfortable. Delirium crept in.

How would he serve her tomorrow he wondered? Now the pain killers kicked in harder and he floated away, happy in his choices, happy that he had no more choices to make. Nothing hurt anymore and he slept deeply and dreamlessly.

For the first time in his life, he was content amid all his pain.