Making Francesca Ch. 01

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A panty wearing man is transformed.
3.1k words
4.34
90.1k
40

Part 1 of the 7 part series

Updated 10/07/2022
Created 07/17/2011
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Spango
Spango
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Author's note: I originally posted this story on another site under the title "Kidnapped and Sissified" a few years ago. I have decided to pull it out, dust it off, do a little editing, slap on a new title that I like better and share it with you fine folks here. Enjoy.


Frank was an ordinary guy in his mid-twenties; of average height and build, loved college football on Saturday afternoons and meeting his friends at a local bar after work on Fridays to shoot some pool. However, he did have one not so ordinary secret. Ever since a college girlfriend had convinced him to wear her panties during sex one night, he had harbored a desire to wear other lacy things but had never had the guts to bring it up in any of his subsequent relationships. He did occasionally wear a pair of panties under his street clothes though. As it turned out, this would lead to the fulfillment of his secret desire and so much more.

One Friday morning as he was getting ready for work, Frank noticed that he was out of clean underwear. Not wanting to wear a pair of dirty boxers, or go "commando", he decided to wear a pair of his panties, figuring no one would notice. Since he was doing something naughty anyway, he chose a black lacy thong with a little pearl affixed to a tiny bow on the center of the waistband. As he left the house for work, he felt a tiny bit self conscious through most of the morning, but as no one even looked at him strange, not to mention said anything, he calmed down around lunch time and by the end of the day had actually forgotten that he was wearing women's underwear. Normally on Fridays he would go home after work and change before meeting his friends at the bar, but this week he had to stay late at the office to finish up a project that was to be presented first thing Monday morning.

Once he got to the bar his friends had already had a few beers each, so Frank, playing catch-up, downed a couple of shots and chugged his first beer. The evening progressed normally. The guys shot pool, made lewd comments about the women in the bar, and flirted with the waitresses. There was a new waitress at the bar that Friday who caught Frank's eye. She was a tall, slender redhead with green eyes that completely captivated Frank whenever she came around their table. Frank was so mesmerized by her eyes that he was drinking way to fast just so she would come back to their table and take the next order. Unsurprisingly, he was soon quite drunk and eventually staggered to the men's room, his bladder nearly bursting. Had he not been so drunk, he might have remembered the thong he was wearing, and would have used one of the stalls, but as it was he stepped up to the urinal, whipped it out and started peeing without a thought. A few seconds later, another guy walked up to the urinal next him, glanced over at Frank and said "Hi".

Frank, quite taken aback by this obvious breach of men's room etiquette, mumbled, "Uh, yeah, Hi."

After a few seconds, the other guy finished and as he turned to leave, said with a wink, "By the way nice panties."

At first Frank was dumbfounded, but realization soon found its way into Frank's alcohol soaked brain, quickly followed by fear. Frank's first thought was that he needed to get out of bar and go home before that guy could tell everyone about his secret. His plan was rudely interrupted by a sudden urge to vomit. While he was hanging his head over the porcelain throne, his friend Will came into the men's room looking for him.

"There you are, you drunk bastard. I think you've had enough for one night pal," Will chuckled as he saw Frank bending over the toilet seemingly trying to vomit up his spleen, "As soon as you finish yakkin' up your guts, you are settling your tab, and taking a cab home."

Once Frank was reasonably sure he was done puking, he and Will went back out into the bar. Will flagged down a waitress and asked for Frank's check. A couple of minutes later, the new waitress came over with the check, and Frank handed her his credit card to pay up. When she brought the card and receipt back, she winked and gave him an odd grin. Will led Frank outside the bar where a cab was waiting just for drunks like Frank to leave, poured him into the taxi, and gave the driver Frank's address. As the taxi was pulling up to Frank's house, he reached into his pocket to get out cash to pay the fare. The credit card receipt from the bar fell on the floor of cab, and as he leaned over to pick it up, Frank noticed it had writing on it. Holding it up to the window so he could see it better in the glow of the streetlight, Frank saw it read, "Frank, I think you might just be my kind of man... Celia."

Frank awoke the next morning with a splitting headache and a raging boner mostly trapped in the lacy black thong he still had on from the night before. As he staggered to the bathroom, he noticed through his bedroom window that his car was not in the driveway and after a momentary flash of panic that someone had stolen his car, the events of the night before started to creep in through the fog of his hangover. He recalled taking a taxi home so he was reassured that his car was indeed not stolen, but rather still downtown at the bar. He also recalled the man who commented on his choice of undergarment and another flash of panic swept over him, but since he did not know the guy, he once again assured himself nothing bad was going to happen. Mostly though, he remembered the somewhat cryptic note Celia, the new waitress, had written on his credit card receipt. Thinking about her did absolutely nothing to reduce his morning wood. By the time he got to the toilet, his hard on was sticking straight up against his stomach and he realized that only way to relieve his bladder was to sit down. As he sat there pissing like the proverbial racehorse, he continued to wonder just what Celia had meant in her note. Sitting there wearing only panties and a t-shirt with his cock pushed between his legs, he wondered if that was what those women who did not shave their legs looked like. After he finished peeing, Frank stripped down and jumped in the shower. Once he was done showering, he was stilling feeling the effects of the hangover as he stumbled back to his bedroom to get dressed. Since he still did not have any clean male underwear, he again decided to wear another pair of his secret collection of panties, picking out a purple satin French cut pair.

Deciding to call one of his buddies who lived nearby to see if he could get a ride over to pick up his car, he headed down to the living room to use the phone. As he walked down the stairs, the doorbell rang. Wondering whom it might be, Frank opened the door to find out it was the man from the men's room the night before. Before he could say a word, the man held out his hand and zapped Frank with the Taser he held. As he was lapsing into unconsciousness, Frank saw two other men back a van into his driveway and up to his garage door.

When Frank regained consciousness, the pounding in his head made it difficult to remember anything, and the bright light wherever he was forced him to keep his eyes closed. A strange tightness in his chest and abdomen made it hard to breath. Slowly he remembered the man at his door and being shocked senseless and for the first time in his life he was truly afraid. As he took stock of his situation, he became aware that his arms were stretched over his head, cuffed to the wall he was leaning against. He felt cuffs on his ankles as well and his legs seemed to be spread apart a bit past shoulder width. He also noticed a dull ache in both of his ear lobes and his nipples. Forcing his eyes open despite the bright light, he began to take stock of his new environment. At first all he could make out was that he seemed to be in a basement and that the light was coming in through a window directly across from him. As his vision cleared, what he saw did absolutely nothing to ease the knot of fear growing in his gut. In fact, it caused a growth spurt in that little knot until it was approaching a sense of full on dread. What Frank saw was a full-fledged, very well appointed S&M dungeon. On the walls various paddles and whips were meticulously hung amid other items that Frank's mind would not allow him to begin to image their use. In the middle of the room there was an authentic medieval rack and the area under the stairs had been turned into a jail cell with a large dog carrier next to it. There were large eyebolts in the rafters and a few sported long metal bars hung from chains.

With much trepidation, Frank turned from his inspection of the dungeon in which he found himself captive, and slowly lowered his head to look at his body. Again what he saw only served to further feed his fear. The pink corset firmly wrapped about him quickly explained the tightness in his torso. On his legs were pink thigh high stockings topped by a wide band of lavender hued lace and attached to the corset by garter straps. He saw that his ankles were attached to the wall by a pair of wide leather cuffs with a chain tightly stretched between them. He also saw that he was wearing pink open toed high heel shoes and his toes were painted in a shade to match the lace on his stockings. Covering his crotch was a pair of lavender lace thong panties with side ties. The top of the corset came to just below his chest so he was able to see the reason for the pain in his nipples. Both were pierced though with small silver loop attached to each other by a fine linked silver chain that swayed as he moved about. He also noticed that, as far as he could see, all of his body hair had been removed. Moving his hands about in the restraints, he was able to discern that he was sporting long, fake fingernails that matched the color of his toenails. As he was taking stock of his predicament, he heard a door open, and someone starting to descend the stairs.

The first thing Frank saw of his captor was a pair of leather boots topped by leather pants as the person began descending the stairs. A new wave of fear swept of him, but also came the realization that he might get some answers as to why he was bound to the wall of a dungeon dressed in lingerie and just who had bound him there. As his captor descended the stairs further, Frank became aware it was a man, and soon saw that he was the same man who first saw his panties in the bar and then later zapped him at his front door. Getting his first really good look at him, Frank noticed that he was about 6 feet tall, and while not heavily muscled, he certainly looked like he could hold his own. He was dressed in a loose fitting black satin shirt, with black leather pants and black boots. He also wore a black leather collar affixed with a small silver lock.

"Ah, I see you have finally come around", the man said as he approached Frank, "I hope you aren't too uncomfortable, but we couldn't just leave you free to wander about down here, now could we?."

"Who are you and why am I here?" Frank asked in as calm a voice as he could manage, deciding it best not to anger the man since he was quite powerless at the moment.

The man chuckled quietly to himself and then replied, "Who we are you will learn in due time sweetie, and as to why you are here, I would think it is obvious. You are here to realize your full potential as a sissy shemale slut."

"But I don't want to be a sissy shemale slut and besides, what could possibly make you think that anyway?" responded Frank, this time with slightly more forcefulness.

"When I saw your panties that night at the bar, I knew you were what we thought you were. The Mistress has had her eye on you for some quite time. How she knows which ones to pick, I will never know, but as yet she has never been wrong. She has been monitoring your web traffic for the last few months. If you don't want to be a sissy shemale slut, then why have been going to sites devoted to them and reading stories about men being turned into them? We also know that those panties you wear were bought online from a store catering to sissies. No, darling, you are the one who is wrong about your desires and soon you will come to understand that. If not, then your training will very hard, and I for one don't want that to happen. Sadly that is not up to me as I do as she orders."

"Now listen here you, you bastard, I don't know who you and this Mistress are, but I do not want to be a sissy shemale slut. I like women, and always have. I have no desire to do anything with men and that is final," Frank said, nearly yelling.

"You would be wise not to raise your voice, especially in front of the Mistress," the man returned as he gestured at the walls covered with implements of pain, "Do you think that all of this is for mere decoration? In time you will not only enjoy pleasing men with your mouth and your ass, but you will be begging for it."

"I will never suck a cock or allow one up my ass. I'm not gay, never have been, and never will be," Frank uttered through clenched teeth.

"Oh, don't worry about that since it not gay for a woman to want to service the needs of men, and once we are finished with you, that is what you will be. With one notable exception that is," the man answered as he began to caress Frank's panty clad cock thought the lace.

As if to betray its owner, Frank's manhood started to stiffen under the panties until it was protruding through the leg hole. Try as he might, Frank just could not get it to go down, even after he conjured up the memory of the time, as a teenage, he accidentally saw his great-grandmother getting out of the shower. In fact the more he tried to stop it, the harder it got.

"I see someone here knows what the truth really is," the man teased, "but where are my manners, I bet you really need to pee."

With that he stopped fondling Frank, and walked across the room to a set of drawers, opened one and removed a urinal bottle of the type hospitals use for patients who can not get out of bed. While the strange man was getting the bottle, Frank realized that, yes indeed he did need to pee but he decided that he was not going allow himself to be forced into anything by this man. As the man walked back across the room, unscrewing the cap of the bottle, he said to Frank, "After we are done with this, I have something to show you that may just start to change you mind."

He pulled Frank's still stiff member out of the panties, and placed it into the neck of the bottle. Frank tried to resist the urge he felt and was doing a good job of it until the man started to rub his belly through the corset, putting pressure on Frank's swollen bladder.

"Now be a good girl, and just let it flow. Don't be embarrassed. After all this isn't the first time I've seen you pee, and besides it will make you feel better," the man cooed as he continued to rub Frank's belly through the satin of the corset.

Try as he might to be contrary, Frank soon found himself pissing into the bottle like a fire hose. "Now isn't that better? I know you feel like a good girl now," the man asked in a voice one uses with a child, "Now I promised to show you something, and I am a man of my word."

Leaving Frank for a moment, the man walked behind a curtain stretched along the far wall of the basement, and returned pushing a full-length mirror until it stood directly in front of Frank. At first Frank tried not to look at himself in the mirror as the man stood patiently to the side. Soon however, curiosity got the better of him and Frank turned his head toward the mirror. What he saw nearly took his breath away. There he was, but he barely recognized himself. He knew it was him shackled to the wall wearing a corset, stockings, panties and high heels, but had he not known better he would have sworn it was someone else. Once again his cock, which had started to deflate, betrayed him, spring to full attention with a drop of pre-cum forming at the tip. While Frank was staring dumbstruck at his reflection, he failed to notice the man pull a syringe out of his breast pocket, and push it into Frank's very exposed ass cheek. Feeling the slight prick of the needle, Frank quickly looked away from the mirror and down at his side.

"Wha, what was that that?" Frank stammered, his earlier fear rushing back.

"Just a little something to help you grow some nice breasts mixed with something to help you rest," Frank heard the man reply as his head began to nod forward and the room was swallowed by blackness.

Spango
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7 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousabout 3 years ago
The man

I want the man to fondle me while I’m dressed up instead xx

AnonymousAnonymousabout 3 years ago
Beautiful

I wish I was Frank ❤️ Everything about this is so sexy xx love it

BrendaNWBrendaNWabout 8 years ago
interesting start

A good start ... hate to see coercion but it is intereresting to see how he progresses.. I would find it exciting to find myself in his place.. not knowing what with happen and be scared to think I may want it...

AnonymousAnonymousabout 11 years ago
This is my fantasy!

This story held my attention. I am also a writer and many similar stories are too long and uninteresting. I wish I was Frank but would be secretly excited at what my future will be. I hope to tread the sequel sometime. Love, Brian.

pampywampypampywampyalmost 12 years ago
hi

luv ur story so far p[lease please continue

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