The Marriage of Martin Hastings Ch. 01

Dark Tales of Forced Feminization

Volume One

Written by: Rikki, Illustrated by: Annabelle B.

"The Martin Hastings Saga" is a work of erotic fantasy/fiction in three distinct pieces and is not based on any beliefs/realities or are any of the characters based on person's alive or dead. This story contains elements of b/d, s/m, forced femininity, and some explicit scenes of gay sexual activity, some non consentual in nature. The story is meant to be a piece of erotic literature for entertainment purposes only, about a straight man who is forced to become another man's crossdressed wife.

Book One

"The Marriage of Martin Hastings"

Chapter One

"A New Reality"

Marriage has many different rituals, cultural influences and laws attached to it that are unique to certain places around the world. Each one is taken very seriously. There are the traditional husband and wife marriages (man and a woman), same sex marriages (two men or two women), then there are the arranged marriages (families that decide who the spouses will be), along with ceremonial customs, practices and traditions that are handed down through time for the celebration and consummation of these joyous ocasions.

But..........What "IF" these customs, all of these laws and these rituals were somehow all accepted practices in a single place, and socially accepted by the locals. What would that look like? It's not so much as where in the world such a situation could happen or exist, but maybe it is more a question of WHEN in the future that in an environment of sexual equality for all, such an unintended consequence of marriage could befall a very unfortunate few.

Meet Martin Hastings. His families wealth is unquestioned. So how did he get caught up in this unbelievable situation in the first place? His story begins here.................

The door opened slowly. Martin was assisted into the doorway and stood there wearing a white knee length terry cloth robe tied at the waist. A white towel was wrapped around the young man's freshly shampooed hair and tucked securely in back. His feet were in a pair of white flat terry cloth open toe house shoes revealing he had ten freshly polished red toenails. His hands were cuffed in front of him hooked to a chain around his waist as his ankles were manacled together also with a length of chain to make walking possible but somewhat difficult. Running was out of the question. His nails had just been done and were expertly styled in a glamour length and painted the same red as his toenails. His toenails had been done by a young girl who found her task very amusing. She had never done nails on a man before, well at least not in a serious manner like this.

Martin had just been bathed and shaved from head to toe and though he had fought with the men that were holding him in his somewhat sedated state he was no challenge for them. He had felt so humiliated and violated by the woman who had shaved all his pubic hair, and handled his penis and balls, moving them about as needed to accomplish her task. She did it as if she had every right to touch and handle him as she saw fit, despite strong objections from him. He felt somehow uncoordinated and weak now. The task had been completed despite his vehement objections.

Martin couldn't help but take note of the chair in the middle of the room. It was a styling chair used by hairdressers with chrome arms and stand, and the cushions were all a vivid pink color. A very pretty chair. The back of the chair was heart shaped, and almost too Barbie to be real, and much too pretty for a young man to sit in. But that's where the innocence ended.

Martin pulled back against the grip of the two that were escorting him as they tried to force him into the room. The chair was a mass of hanging black leather straps not much bigger than belts. They hung silently, but very intimidatingly, waiting for Martin to be seated so he could be securely affixed to the chair and the straps could serve the function for which they were intended. Allowing them to do as they pleased with Martin without any interference from him.

A woman stood beside the chair with a pink cape over her arm, her hand resting on the back of the chair, as she patiently waited for Martin to be seated.

"Good morning Martin. I trust your morning has not been too difficult? I see you are ready to have your hair done." She stepped away from the chair.

"So if you would please just have a seat in the styling chair I'll get you strapped in and we can get started," the woman said with a gesture of her hand.

"What kind of chair is that? What's it for?" Martin said looking at the straps hanging from the chair. He resisted their efforts as he was forced closer to it.

"It's a styling chair, I need to do your hair. Please have a seat."

"No!" Martin said as he pushed back against the men who were now forcing him forward to the chair. Martin began to twist and try to pull his arms away from them, as he was forcibly lead toward the menacing looking styling chair. Martin twisted suddenly breaking free of the grips two men had on him and pushed himself to the floor.

"STOP IT," he screamed at them. "What is wrong with you people?" He struggled with the two handlers, as the stylist stood patiently at the chair waiting for him to be placed in the chair so she could begin a beauty process on him that would normally be reserved only for women.

Martin was pulled to his feet and once again. He looked over his shoulder at the chair as he was turned with his back to the chair. They attempted to seat him in the chair once again only to have Martin kick at the chair trying to push himself away.

"NO!! LET GO OF ME!!!" he yelled while twisting and freeing himself from their grip. Martin tried to run to the door only to have the 18" chain between his ankles cause him to trip and fall to the floor again. This time the handlers pinned him face down and secured his ankles together.

"OWWW! You're hurting me damn it," he groaned. Martin lay face down, while his ankles were pulled together and tied with a short length of rope. The rope was purposely pulled extremely tight to make a point of who was in charge and to limit his movements.

"OWWW....That's too tight," he screamed out. "Don't do this to me," Martin pleaded, tears welling up in his eyes They rolled Martin over on the floor and sat him up into a seated position. Turning him so his back was to the chair now, the two attendants took hold of Martin's arms and his legs.

"Damn it...... STOP!! Don't put me in that chair," he yelled as he was now lifted off the floor and seated in the chair. His waist and chest were tightly strapped immediately, his arms were then released and secured to the arms of the chair. The chain then removed from his waist. He looked to the woman waiting to attend him. A cape over her arm as she continued to wait patiently as if he was just a woman in for her afternoon hair appointment settling into the seat. She made eye contact with him but showed no emotions or sympathy at all for his ordeal.

"WHAT DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND? I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS!!" he yelled again.

"It'll be ok Martin. Please just try and relax," the woman said softly, gently patting him on the shoulder.

"STOP IT!" Martin yelled out as the rope and then his manacles on his ankles were taken off. His legs were spread wide to the side of the chair and each ankle fastened to the foot rest. A strap at the seat secured him just above the knees. Martin jerked at his bonds unable to get any movement.

"Please let me go," his voice trailed off as the final straps were pulled tight in effect now securing Martin's body to the chair and his destiny.

"Martin. Please get hold of yourself," the woman said walking in front of the chair to face him. "We have a lot of work to do, so please just try and compose yourself. I know this is difficult, but try and relax," she said.

"I don't understand. Why are you doing all this to me?" he pleaded and shook his head violently.

"Martin," she said softly again trying to settle him down as he struggled against the restraints.

"Let me go," he said as he twisted even more in vain.

"Aren't you comfortable?" the woman asked as she flung out the styling cape and wrapped around his neck.

"No I'm not comfortable you stupid bitch. Do I look comfortable to you?"

She pumped the foot pump and the chair was now raised to a height that the woman could work on Martin's hair more easily. She looked in the mirror at Martin and smiled.

"Hello Martin, my name is Leanne, and I will be in charge of getting you ready for your wedding," she said spinning the chair around one time very quickly and then stopping it just to show him she was in control.

"What are you going to do to me?" he asked staring at her in the mirror now helpless to stop whatever plans she had for him.

"Well first, I'm going to get your hair set and get you under the dryer. So we need to put you in curlers," she said taking the towel away from his head.

"Why?" he said watching her prepare things. "Don't you put curlers in my hair like I'm some kind of fag," he said jerking his head about as she tried to comb his wet hair.

"You don't seem very happy right now Martin. What's wrong?" she asked looking as if she cared about his answer.

"What's wrong? What's wrong? Are you serious lady? I've been kidnapped and I'm being held against my will. Look at me, I've been violated and shaved. Look what you perverts did. You then painted my nails red," he said spreading his fingers so she could see the long red nails he was wearing. "You don't see anything wrong with this? Especially since I said NO!" he raged.

"I'm sorry you weren't consulted Martin. Are you not happy with the color of the nail polish that I selected for you? I actually like that particular shade of red. I think your toes and fingernails look very nice. Brittany did a beautiful job with your manicure and pedicure," she said as she went back to combing his hair."

"It's not the color you bimbo," Martin's aggravation growing, "It's the fact that my nails are painted. Men don't wear red nail polish in case you weren't unaware." Martin became so tongue tied in his frustrations he couldn't argue his point intelligently. He looked away and waited a moment as he regained some of his composure.

"Why are you doing this to me? What did I do to you?" he asked watching while she pulled a tray full of different color curlers next to the chair.

"Do to me? Oh Martin, you didn't do anything to me. tit's your wedding day. You are getting married and I'm here to help you get ready for the ceremony."

"I'm not getting married, I told you people that earlier. You have got the wrong man obviously. Why are you trying to humiliate me like this?"

"Humiliate you? Oh there's nothing humiliating about getting your hair set and styled Martin. It should be an enjoyable experience for you," she said taking a roller from the tray. "Being pampered and fussed over by women doing your hair and nails to make you look handsome, while you sit back and just relax allowing them to work their magic on you. Any woman would be jealous of you right now."

"Handsome? Don't you dare put those things in my hair," he said looking at them out of the corner of his eye.

Leanne laughed.

"But I have to put you in curlers Martin, it's the only way to curl your hair, and we do want lots of curls in your hair for this afternoon don't we?" she said now finishing the combing in of the setting gel.

"No we don't. You can stop all this nonsense right now. I'm not doing this."

"Oh yes you are," she said as she pulled up a strand of hair and picked up a brush roller to begin Martin's hair set. He jerked his head and the strand fell free from her fingers.

"I'm going to need a little help in here," Leanne said walking to the door and asking a large female attendant come in for a moment. She approached Martin and grabbed the hair just at the back of Martin's neck and then secured his chin with her other hand. She pulled and gripped him tight holding his head still.

"OUCH!" he grunted as his hair was pulled.

"I just don't want curlers in my hair. You're humiliating me. Let go of me."

His hair was pulled even tighter by the female attendant.

"Oww! You're hurting me," he snarled as his hair was being pulled to keep him cooperative.

As Martin watched in the mirror, Leanne pulled up a strand of hair with the comb and he tried once again to prevent the curler from being placed in his hair. A quick pull of his hair by the attendant made him squeal out once again. It was hopeless.

"OOWWW! OK. I'll be still just stop pulling my hair. You beast."

Leanne nodded to the woman and he felt her grip loosen on his chin and hair and the she stepped away from the chair. She moved back and stood by the wall watching in case her services were needed again.

Leanne put the first curler in Martin's hair. He pulled at his restraints as the second curler was rolled into his hair. Though he was sitting still for her, he still had so much pent up anger inside him. The brush type rollers Leanne was using reminded Martin of the curlers his grandmother and aunts used to wear in their hair in the evenings to bed, or to the grocery store draped by a flowered head scarf, as if the scarf made for a better appearance while in public than seeing the curlers. It was was just too humiliating for him to see himself now being forced into wearing the same curler look on his head as they did.

"I can't deal with this Leanne."

"Try and relax. You're doing fine Martin. I will have your hair set in curlers momentarily. Just be patient, then I will get you under the dryer," Leanne said.

"Men don't do this you crazy bitch. I don't want my hair put in curlers. Stop tormenting me. I'm a man not a woman damn it," he growled as the curlers kept being rolled in his hair one after the other at a swift steady pace.

"I know you're a man Martin. I never said you weren't."

"Then why? This is disgusting," he said and then watched as his head filled with hair curlers. "Why are you treating me like I'm a woman? I don't like this."

"I'm not treating you like a woman Martin. You are getting married today. Your hair needs to be done first," Leanne smiled and stopped for a moment.

"Curlers? Nails painted? That's not perverted in your eyes?"

"I see you haven't been filled in on all the details of your marriage." Leanne said laying down the comb and giving Martin her full attention now.

"I guess that's not unusual in this type of an arranged marriage. They always seem to wait till the very last minute to inform the soon to be spouse. The one who might be inclined to panic at the idea of having the decision of marriage being made for them and then having to honor that decision that is. Less time to think about it and fret over the small things and the inevitable."

"What things? Like being forced to marry to a complete stranger? Hell yeah I'm upset. Who wouldn't be upset. What if I don't like this woman? Ever think of that? Of course you didn't. What does she look like, and why couldn't she get a husband on her own?"

"Woman? Oh no, no Martin. You will not be marrying a woman. You are being married to another man. Actually you are going to be the new male bride of Baron Vargos."

"Male bride?" Martin was stunned at her statement.

"That's right Martin. I'm going to do your hair up in a elegant updo with curls and bows. We'll get your face made up pretty. That will include lipstick. Then you'll be dressed in your wedding dress and a pair of high heels."

"HELL NO! You think I'm going to just sit here and let you dress me up like a woman and marry a man? Is that what this is all about? I absolutely refuse to marry a man," he said as he watched the final curlers go in his hair. His frustrations grew from the fact he couldn't move and the fact she just kept doing as she pleased with him and he couldn't stop them.

"Oh Martin, the Baron is a very fine catch. Do you realize how many women have been vying for his attentions for years," she said with a giggle. "And now you have captured his heart, and you two are going to be married this afternoon."

"NO! That can't be. Listen Leanne, I'M NOT GAY!" he yelled out. "You can't do this to me without my consent, and I say no way. I will not consent to this." The security woman who stood by the wall, had a smirk on her face as she watched with some amusement the gradual forced transformation of this reluctant young male bride to be.

"Your consent? Your consent was given by your family. It's an arranged marriage Martin. This has been arranged by the two families. It is a perfectly legal, though I grant you it is a bit unusual for a man or even a woman of your age to be having a marriage arranged for them."

"My family would never have agreed to this type of thing. Arranged marriages are for women anyway, men don't get placed in arranged marriages. You're lying."

"Well that's a bit sexist isn't it Martin? Good for the girls but not the guys? I'm afraid you are wrong. You are to be wed today in a same sex ceremony Martin. These arranged marriages are not very common I grant you, especially same sex marriages which are very rare indeed, but they are as legal as any other marriage."

"I am not a woman. I don't appreciate being treated like this."

"Oh, I know you're not a woman Martin. We are not trying to make you feel like a woman here, but we are preparing and dressing you as a bride, which is what you are. Men can be brides too Martin."

"You're crazy lady. I can't do that. I don't want to be dressed like a girl."

"Please try and understand, it's not up to you Martin. Having you dressed in women's attire and being powdered, painted and perfumed is your husband's desire, and that's why we are doing this."

"I don't care what he wants. I'm the one being violated and humiliated here. What about my feelings? I've never met this man. What gives him the right to degrade my masculinity like this?"

"Please Mr. Hastings you are over reacting sir."

"OVER REACTING? Look at me. I didn't consent to being made to look like a fool."

"Your husband will be the one who makes such decisions for you from now on. The unfortunate thing about some arranged marriages is that often the bride not only marries an unwanted husband but also loses her right to self determination and expression."

"This is insane."

"I'm sorry Martin, but you will have to persuade your husband to change his mind if you don't want to wear women's clothes. I'm just doing as I'm instructed. In the mean time though, you will be dressed as a bride and wear a beautiful wedding dress today for the ceremony. I will have it brought in on a dress stand and have it placed in front of you so you can admire it while you are under the dryer," she said.

"Don't force me to do this Leanne. For god's sakes I'm not a fag. Get someone else, I'm sure there are plenty of perverts out there that are just like you guys that would love to do this, but I'm not one of them. Pick someone else."

"The Baron picked you."

Leanne said nothing else but looked at Martin in the mirror as she unsnapped the cape and removed it. Martin noticed a grin that broke out on the face of the female attendant who was standing next to the wall watching.

"What are you smiling at bitch? Enjoying the view you pervert? Something turning you on here? Need to go rub your pussy against some guys leg for awhile?" he sneered at her. She never changed her expression and continued to watch.

Leanne brought the hair dryer and pulled the elastic band around Martin's curlers so the soft bonnet with the bright blue floral designs covered his head. There was a three foot length of hose that hooked to the main unit. Leanne switched it on high heat and adjusted the bonnet slightly. The bonnet inflated into a nice mushroom shape on his head, and there Martin sat humiliated with his hair in curlers now being dried under a dryer.