My First Feminization Pt. 03

Startled by a hand sliding under my arm, I jump. The shock brings me out of my sex-induced haze and I realise that they are helping me up, off the cushions, onto my feet. Slowly I tune in to the fact that they're actually talking to me as they pull.

"You poor dear," a gentle voice says "they just left you here, didn't they? No one picks up after themselves here. Just have their fun and wander off somewhere else."

I'm on my feet now, and turn my head toward the sound of the voice. Leading me across the floor, the voice continues to chat. "I don't know how they thought you were going to get up from there. Arms bound, discarded in a pile of cushions, tut tut. Very inconsiderate." My instructions were clear, so I hold my tongue, despite a desperate urge to ask who she is. It does sound like a woman, but her words conjure up an image of an experienced 'maid' who has seen it all, and cleaned up after most of it. Almost like a scolding school teacher, though I dare say the target of her complaints are nowhere nearby.

Sounds from the party are fainter now. We've gone out of the main room. I don't recall a door opening, so maybe it's an alcove. In any case, my companion pauses her commentary at a sigh from someone else nearby.

"They do make quite a mess, don't they, Miss Scarlet?" the new voice says.

"Mmmmhmmm, they do indeed, dear" comes the reply from my elbow, apparently my new friend is Miss Scarlet.

I hadn't stopped to think before now, but I probably look somewhat disheveled. There's been no attempt to contain my cum, my boots may be splattered. Are my panties wet too? I hope I didn't stain anything! Without consciously choosing to I have adopted my new self. Concerned about my clothes, my boots. My makeup, no doubt smeared across my face after that luscious pussy came all over it. I wince at the thought, embarrassed that my makeup might not be in order, that it might not be flawless, that I might not look my best.

"Enjoying yourself dearie?" asks Miss Scarlet. I nod silently in reply, which prompts her to chuckle. "Some of them learn quicker than others, hmm? This one's not silly, is she, Miss White."

A snort comes from the evidently unimpressed Miss White. She's in front of me. I presume it's her with her hands on my legs, pulling my boots down, and off. Her fingers don't quite feel real, probably wearing gloves, I guess.

Another pair of hands is removing the wig and earrings. Panic paralyses me at the thought that it might be over, that I'm being cleaned up to be sent home. I'm not ready for this to end yet! I adored the hours I've spent all dressed up, all dolled up, as a service sissy maid. It felt so right to have that other sissy sucking my cock, so overwhelmingly great. He was good at it, that's for sure. As the sensations of that blowjob replay in my mind I can feel my cock begin to harden again. I hadn't really noticed that it had gone soft, but the sensation of a growing erection is unmistakable. Even the application of wipes to my face, cold, used roughly, unpleasantly roughly in fact, could not distract me from my mental reenactment.

A hard slap on my left butt cheek jolts me back to reality with an audible gasp. Stinging pain lingers as a third voice fills my ears.

"Cleaning this one down, are we ladies?" says a very male sounding person.

"Yes, sir" replies Miss White. Her manner is deferential, without being subservient. Perhaps he is a party guest. "We're just about to wipe her off and select another ensemble for her to parade."

I can feel my cheeks become pink as I am once again embarrassed, this time to realise I am standing naked, save for my ever-present hood, hairless and with one of the largest hard-on's I've had in a long time. I bow my head slightly, knowing even as I do that I can't hide.

Fingers lift my chin. His voice is close, gentle, insistent "Don't do that..." he tells me "Sorry, what's your name?"

My voice is a little shaky as I answer him "My, my name is Charlotte, sir." No idea if I should be calling him 'sir' or not, but it seemed fitting after hearing Miss White.

"Thank you, Charlotte. You need not feel embarrassed here. This is the place where you can let your wildest imagination loose. Here is where sexual fantasies can become realities." His enthusiasm is clear, and slightly infectious, though I can't shake the feeling that he's reading from a tourist brochure. "It's all about fun, here."

Warm fingertips brush the head of my cock, then drift along the length of it. I can feel my body tense involuntarily. His fingers are making the lightest of contact, but the sensation sends chills throughout my body. I can hear his voice again, this time I can also feel his breath against my ear "You look like you're a lot of fun, and you have a lovely package here."

I smirk as he calls my cock a 'package'. I've just been shaved from the neck down and dressed up as a woman and he's using euphemisms. I wipe the smirk away quickly, though, hoping I don't get caught. I know my place here, and it certainly isn't mocking the sighted guests!

His caress continues to send tingles through me in waves, his breathing warm against my ear, though he says nothing more. So focussed on his strokes I don't realise that I am no longer bound and could move. I just stand in that one spot, arms by my sides, breathing becoming heavier as the gentle attention gets me more and more wound up.

My new friend moves, I can no longer hear his breath. He hasn't moved far, though, as his tender featherlight finger brushes never miss a beat. Then a familiar sensation flows over the head of my poor teased cock - his breath envelopes it, though still only contact from the fingers. A mixed gasp and moan falls out of my now open mouth as I feel the attention of yet more fingers on my balls. His other hand, perhaps. The touch measured perfectly, exciting me, stimulating me, making me tremble with unsatisfied longing. I so want to feel some tongue against my skin, or the full firm grasp of a palm wrapped around my now throbbing cock.

Still he teases, playing with me as only an experienced practitioner can. Again I want to beg, plead with him to grab me properly, to lick me, let me fuck something. I just want more! Yet I remain silent. Hoping obedience to the rules will yield results.

Some of the fingertips begin to slide, lubricated by the precum that feels like it's free flowing from the tip of my cock. The new sensation heightens the pleasure torture level. I whimper, we've been through this before, just after I was dressed first. Teased and toyed with to the brink of orgasm but no further. I don't know that I can do it again, not even for a 'ruined' orgasm. I'm still whimpering, an almost silent cry for relief.

"Back" he says, but I am too lost in the delicious desperation to cum to comply. I can feel my hips moving, a futile effort to improve the contact. I moan in relief as a hand wraps fully around my cock, my hips reflexively trying to thrust into it, again to no avail. Experienced hands know just how to maintain control. Another instruction "Close your mouth!"

A puzzling request, I hadn't realised it was particularly open. The confusion is short lived, however, as that hand encircling my shaft begins to slowly stroke the full length. Rubbing over the slick head and then back against my balls. An initially slow movement that quickens as it goes, building up speed like a freight train downhill. It feels so good it overwhelms me. All my sounds stop, aside from heavy and now ragged breathing.

Pressure on my cock increases, the hand tightening it's grip at the same time as I feel finger nails digging into my balls, a peculiar mixing of pain into the building pleasure that I'd not felt before. It felt good. So good, in fact that I came, and came hard. The stroking along my shaft continued as my cum sprayed out of me, milking every last drop out. My body was shaking and I almost stumbled over as the intensity of my orgasm washed through me. Fortunately I caught myself and remained upright, albeit a bit trembly.

Then I heard "Clean that cock off!" coming from my mystery male friend.

"Yes Master" came the soft reply from a woman who appeared to be in front of me. Much more delicate fingers lifted my thick and sticky cock, with a slick hot tongue lapping the oh-so-sensitive head clean. I moaned again, the sensation was unexpected, and just the other side of pleasurable. My cock spasmed one last time, spurting the very last of my cum into her mouth as she gently, but methodically, licked me clean. I was thankful this didn't appear to be her first time either, as she stopped before the stimulation became unbearable. I've heard of post-orgasm torture, but this is as close as I've been to it. I'm not sure how I'd cope!

"Thank you, ladies." the kind man said, and that was the last I heard of him. He said no more to me, and I presume went back to the party with his female sub. For my part, I sighed, satiated, exhausted and well empty.

"If you're quite done?" Miss White said sharply. She clearly stood aside while the fun was going on, but equally clearly was not impressed that her task had been interrupted.

I open my mouth to apologise, but am cut short by Miss Scarlet "She wasn't really asking you, dear." Blushing, I close my mouth. Of course she wasn't actually asking me that.

They help me into a bra, I can feel it has a lacy pattern on the cups, soft to the touch. Then they slip in some breast forms to fill the cups out properly. I step into some similarly lacy and, I presume, matching panties. Actually, now they're on, it's a g-string, the back feeling new between my butt cheeks, a constant reminder of the new persona I have here.

Then stockings, one on each leg, and a garter belt to hold them in place. A pair of heels, which I am pleased to discover are easier to walk in than the boots. Shorter heels I guess, don't feel so unstable. The final piece of clothing is a long dress that I feel brushing against my ankles at the bottom. My chest feels bare too, along with my back, so plunging necklines showing a lot of skin. I feel pretty, though I have no idea what colours I am wearing.

Light makeup this time, quick to apply, though still with lipstick. Studs in my ears, and a long pendant necklace with some sort of stone at the end of the chain. This dressing is much more relaxed, while still being swift and efficient. My hands aren't restrained, so I can feel things. They don't seem to mind me touching my ears, fondling my pendant, smoothing my dress down over my hips and thighs. Or at least, they don't stop me. The final piece of the combo is another wig, this one with hair that reaches my shoulder-blades, long and flowing, straight, I decide, by touch.

One of them takes my hand and guides me into a spin. I hear Miss White say "Good enough." though as much to herself as anyone else. Then to me "Off you go, try to keep this outfit a bit tidier!".

There's a hand on my arm, guiding me out again. The murmur of the party grows in volume and clarity. As we walk I can hear Miss White and Miss Scarlet talking behind me, I seem to have a new escort. I straighten my shoulders, standing taller. Onward for more adventure!