To the Manor Bound Ch. 03

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Francine's training continues in the East Wing.
5.4k words
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Part 3 of the 5 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 09/04/2013
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Nikki258
Nikki258
128 Followers

[So I finally got around to finishing chapter three, apologies for the delay. As with the other two chapters this includes forced feminisation, BDSM, and non-con, so it might not be your cup of tea. Regardless do comment and email me to let me know what you think, or just to say hello!]

*****

Chapter 3 -- Three Weeks after Transformation

"Now it is very important at this stage not to lose eye-contact. I know that it will be your first instinct to look down and admire the cock that you are sucking, but you need to remember why you are doing this: it is about your master's pleasure, not yours, and he will most assuredly enjoy seeing the pleading in your eyes."

Peter's eyes were not pleading: they were starting to glaze over as the video moved on to the most pleasurable ways in which to use the tongue on the head of a cock. He was now nearing the end of his third week's training with Lord Madison and he had recently moved into a new phase of education. After being instructed in most of the anachronistic methods which Lord Madison demanded he used to prepare and maintain his household he was beginning to be trained in the correct ways in which to please the master of the house.

It had been three days now since the door to the East Wing -- the former "Hambleton Manor Private Reformatory School for Wayward Young Ladies" -- had been re-opened. The classrooms were still more or less intact, with rows of hard wooden chairs attached to simple wooden desks, their surfaces still etched with 40 year old graffiti -- 'Kitty loves fisting', 'Ms Keenwell has a cock', and 'Charlotte N.'s breath smells of my pussy' were among the least obscene.

The glee in Lord Madison's face was barely contained as he watched the young sissy strip out of his lacy maid's outfit and into his new schoolgirl's uniform, though in truth it was scarcely more than a scrap of cloth pretending to be a shirt that left Peter's new breasts half falling out of the bottom and half bursting out at the top, and a pleated skirt that was closer in size to a large belt.

The current instructional video was just one of many specially commissioned by Lord Madison. It was close to three hours in length and went into minute detail about blowjobs, their practice and their history -- "Though this latter section may seem of little practical use to you now it may one day prove to be useful young sissy, as you may be expected to converse with a superior during post-coital relaxation, and this is one of the few topics which will be considered appropriate for you," the tape explained.

The man giving the instructional course was not Lord Madison himself, but a man in his late fifties with tufty white hair and a bit of a paunch who introduced himself as 'Professor van Buren'. He would occasionally demonstrate certain aspects of the lecture with a slightly misty-eyed young bimbo he referred to as 'Bobbi'.

Peter did wonder briefly at one point as to why, if the videos were newly produced, why they would occasionally flicker with black and static. Of course, were he able to unchain himself from his desk, if he paused the DVD at the correct moment he might see one of the interstitial, subliminal hypnotic messages Lord Madison had had implanted throughout the training, including,

'YOU LOVE TO SUCK COCK'

'MASTER KNOWS BEST'

and simply, 'OBEY'

But he knew he could not afford to look away for a second; the examination his Lordship would give him when he returned would quickly tell how closely he'd been paying attention. Peter shifted uncomfortably on his chair at the very thought. His arse was still striped with bright crimson marks from the caning he had received the previous afternoon after failing to achieve a passing grade in an examination on the correct manner in which to address various dignities who may visit Hambleton Manor: "No, no, no, you ditzy little slut. A bishop is 'Your Excellency', an archbishop is 'Your Grace'. If you're going to make the silly mistakes of a schoolgirl then you'll need to be punished like one. Skirt up, bend over, hands on the desk, count them and thank me as we go, ONE! . . . "

That his arse was lying bare against the rough wood of the school chair was not helping Peter overcome the discomfort, nor was the fact that he was required to keep his soft silk panties tight around his ankles with his legs spread as part of his punishment.

Trying to find a modicum of comfort by shifting around on his chair though only served to remind him of the new, larger buttplug that was firmly stuck between his tight little cheeks. Peter blushed a little as he remembered how Lord Madison had snuck up behind him when he had been washing up, pinning his body against the sink, and thrust a hand under his maid's skirt, before bringing it back with a finger coated in the pre-cum that was dripping from Peter's tightly bound cock.

"Well I'm glad to see that you're making friends with your little plug Francine, in fact, since you're enjoying it so much I'll let you keep it in as a reward for completing this little chore. No, no, there's no need to thank me now, consider it noblesse oblige and all that." And with that he stuck his finger, still glistening with pre-cum into Peter's lipstick painted mouth and ordered him to lick it clean, "After all, I'm sure I'll think of a way for you to thank me later."

That had been two plugs ago. It seemed as though as soon as he was finally growing used to the size of the one he was wearing then his Lordship would bring out an incrementally bigger one.

The DVD commentary broke back through his clouded mind and brought Peter back to the here and now, "At this point, if your hands are not bound, then you should begin to pay attention to your Master's balls," the professor continued, "remember to simply caress gently them at first."

It was an hour and a half later, after 'Bobbi' had just taken her fifth load of cum directly to the face following some intensive training circle blowjob orgy training, that Lord Madison re-entered the classroom. His shirtsleeves were rolled up neatly past his elbows, and, whilst his waistcoat was still buttoned tightly, his jacket was tidily folded over one arm.

"Well Francine, do you think the good Professor here has taught you anything?" He leant on the large widescreen television as he turned it off with a flick of his fingers.

"Yes Lord Madison, I think so," Peter chimed back, still a hint of sarcasm in his voice, though Peter was learning to hide it deeper and deeper inside. It was simply 'Lord Madison' though; at this stage it was almost automatic for him to call his Lordship by his title. Peter tried to recall what his given name was but the fact was gone from his mind: he was now simply Lord Madison.

"Well I'm sure we'll find out for certain later on," He said, picking up a meter ruler from the desk and giving it a playful little bend and a menacing little swish through the air. "We shall find out later on because you've more pressing duties to attend to this afternoon," He looked around the classroom and out into the corridor, "Quite frankly this place is in the most intolerable state of disarray, Francine you've been slacking far too much in your domestic duties so I'm going to be monitoring you today as you begin your rounds on the East Wing."

After freeing Peter's shackles from the desk where they were bound, but keeping them tightly locked to his wrists, Lord Madison presented his young sissy maid with a choice of three maid's uniforms and instructed him to pick out the one he thought prettiest. "After all, you're going to be cleaning with an audience today and I don't want my maid to look frumpy," he explained.

Blushing fiercely, Peter pointed out a light pink satin and yellow gingham uniform with a matching duster, which he was shortly afterwards zipped tightly into, though the hemline was far shorter than he first anticipated and it rode a little higher up Peters smooth, milk-white thighs with every step he took.

"Let's see if you can manage without the leash this time, follow me."

Peter hesitated for a moment before trotting off after Lord Madison, still tottering a little on his high heels but now starting to be able to display a little more grace on them. He caught up with his Lordship at the far end of the corridor where he was leaning against a supply cupboard door. Leaning against the door frame Lord Madison swung the door open to the supply closet

"Now I know you've never had to clean this wing before Francine, and frankly it shows, but I think we're going to do things a little differently here. You're starting to get slack with your training young lady, and I simply will not brook such indolence, I'm going to have to start combining the separate strands of your instruction in order to complete your transformation into my sissy maid."

Peter interrupted, "What are you tal-"

His Lordship cut him off abruptly, "I know that this is a lot for your silly little mind to take in sissy, but I'm sure you'll come to agree that it's the only way for you to progress. And don't worry, I won't forget to add on a further 10 punishment spanks tonight for that little outburst."

Peter bit his bottom lip, tasting the fruity wax of his lipstick. He'd been doing well in avoiding further canings so far, in spite of how much he wanted to scream in Lord Madison's face at the unfairness of his treatment he didn't want to risk another night sleeping on his stomach with his bare arse burning against his ruffled, pink silk duvet cover. The flimsy little negligée his Lordship "allowed him" to sleep in barely came down past his navel, making his cock bounce up and down as he gave his required curtsey to his Lordship goodnight.

Lord Madison reached into the closet and pulled out a familiar looking penis gag - modelled after his own dick, but reduced in size - but on the front there was a screw threaded indentation.

"Give it a kiss and open wide Francine," Lord Madison smirked as he moved the tip of the plastic cock close to Peters face.

Still blushing deeply in spite of how often this ritual had happened to him since he had first arrived, Peter gave the head a little peck and then open his mouth wide, now knowing how much he needed to be able to relax to take it in.

"Mmmph, glurghen umph," Peter started trying to shake his head as the tip brushed lightly against the back of his throat.

"Now, now, no biting Francine; you know the rules, besides you're going to have to keep it in to perform your cleaning duties, observe," Lord Madison lifted a mop head from a shelf inside the closet and, lifting it up to Peter's face, slowly screwed it into place on the front of the gag, turning Peter into a living, breathing mop.

The smell of stale water directly underneath Peter's nose was almost nauseating in its persistence, as wherever he turned his head the mop would follow. Instinctively he lifted his hands to remove it but was stopped before he could even touch it by his Lordship's firm grasp.

"Always looking for the easy way out sissy, tsk tsk." He grinned and pulled Peter's hands down behind his back, pulling him closer as he did. "I can see that I'm going to have to impress upon you once more the standards that I require of my personal staff."

His Lordship started undoing the thick ribbons that held Peter's corseted dress in place, but stopped after the first handful of eyelets, letting out just enough slack that Peter's breasts spilled out from the dress. Then, taking Peter's arms behind his back in one hand, Lord Madison used the free length of ribbon to bind them tightly, once above the elbow and again below the wrist, such that the more Peter tried to free himself the tighter his corset was drawn.

Lord Madison pulled him closer -- tight enough that Peter could feel his thick dick pressing between his arsecheeks, stretching the silky fabric of his panties over his hairless arsehole and tickling his balls with the lace -- and then slowly lowered him to the floor.

"You see Francine, when you mop in such a position you will have no excuses for missing a single spot. Well, what are you waiting for girl? Get cleaning!"

Peter let out a half-sarcastic, half-involuntary, and entirely muffled, "Yes your Lordship," and started moving his head around in tight circles as he crawled across the wooden floor. He grew more deeply displeased and ashamed as he discovered that the mop-head wiggled the tip of the rubber cock around inside his mouth as he scrubbed.

Lord Madison stepped back and leant against a wall, allowing himself a brief satisfied smirk as he looked up Peter's dress. There was no sight of any hair regrowth on Peter's now smooth, pale thighs.

If Peter thought that the mop-head smelt bad, sticking his entire head into the bucket to rinse it off was enough to make him gag -- though, as Lord Madison reminded him, it was something of a moot point as the rubber cock stuffed down his throat was making him gag as well. But, some two hours or so later, the wooden floor was shining like glass and just as reflective. Peter sat back on his haunches, looking up at Lord Madison pleadingly with his big, mascara lined eyes, whilst Lord Madison looked down first at his cleavage and then at the reflection in the floor of what lay under his skirt, and smiled at how his cock was straining against its cage.

After taking another long, slow look around him Lord Madison raised Peter's chin with a finger, letting a little dribble of mop water run down between his breasts.

"Yes my maid, this is good enough, for now." He said, and slowly unscrewed the mop head from the gag, letting it fall into the bucket with a little splash. "But I'll let you keep the gag, seeing as you seem to be enjoying it so. Not the same as the real thing I know, but since you're drooling all over it I'll let you keep up the practice. You'll need it."

Peter winced at this last part, not least because from the position he was bound in it was impossible to look up at Lord Madison without his gaze first resting on the bulge in his tight trousers.

"But simmer down Francine, I know you're a horny little slut but work must come before pleasure -- well before your pleasure at least, my pleasure come before you," he laughed as he added, "and then of course my pleasure cums on you. But, for the moment, you need to get your mind back onto the job; you've mopped but these rugs are still a disgrace."

Peter had finished mopping at the junction of the East wing and the central lobby, where a thick Persian rug lay. Ornately designed but murky and clouded by dust and time it had been brought back from the orient by Lord Madison's paternal great-grandfather after his time as Governor of Hong Kong -- a position for which his name is still synonymous with both debauchery and abuse of power - but the forty years or so in which the Manor had lain empty had left the carpet in a rather sorry looking state.

"As you will hopefully have gathered in the time you have spent under my roof, whilst I am liberally progressive in my choice of domestic servants I rather tend to prefer more established methods of domestic maintenance. I will not allow vacuum cleaners inside my Manor, they inculcate an air of indolence to the domestic staff, you're going to have to learn how to use a carpet beater."

As Peter bent on his stocking clad knees to roll up the heavy carpet Lord Madison made one final return to the cleaning closet, returning swinging an old fashioned carpet beater in his hands as though it were a walking cane.

"Pick it up and follow me."

After tottering on his heels for a moment Peter managed to take the rug into his arms and he meekly followed after his Lordship, walking across the tiled lobby floor and through the grand ballroom that lay behind it, eventually emerging into the rear courtyard across which a line had been strung.

Peter blinked as he stepped out into the bright early afternoon sunshine. It was the first time that he'd been allowed outside of his luxurious mansion prison in days as the only outbuilding which needed cleaning were the long set of stables where a coterie of horses had once been kept, and Lord Madison had informed him he would hire a stable boy for that -- "but then you'd probably enjoy that just as much as cleaning it out, wouldn't you sissy? A hot young stud, shirtless and sweaty . . . focus little sissy girl, focus!"

After several attempts, and much derisive commentary and mocking laughter from his Lordship, Peter finally managed to hook the heavy rug over the line and started beating. The constant diet of salads and cum though had left Peter even weaker than he had been when first been taken into Hambleton Manor and whilst he managed to build up a thin film of sweat on his forehead swinging with all his might he could dislodge very little of the deeply engrained dirt. He tried once more swing, making his enormous fake breasts jiggle beneath his nose as he twisted his body, before collapsing exhausted onto the grass.

Lord Madison shook his head theatrically as he inspected the carpet with a keen eye, pulling out a monocle for theatrical effect when taking a closer look, and saying, "I suppose I shouldn't really have expected someone with wrists as limp as yours to be able to shake much dust off, but this really is slack work Francine. If I'm going to have to instruct you on how to perform every single little action then I'm afraid I'm going to have to do so more persuasively."

Forcefully manhandling him Lord Madison lifted first one wrist to the line and then the other, attaching his maid-in-training's wrist-cuffs to the washing line with a click. Try as he might Peter was unable to rotate his hands enough to unhook the cuffs from the line, though it didn't stop him from wriggling and shaking.

Peter blushed deeply once more as Lord Madison lifted up all of the hems of the frilly layers of his skirt in one hand, rolled them up and, taking a peg from the line, attached them to the waist of the maid's uniform; all of this having the effect of exposing Peters panty clad arse and chastity clad cock to the open air, not that they were panty clad for very long as his Lordship roughly pulled the silk and lace thong down to his ankles. Peter was completely exposed to the world as a sissy maid about to be punished.

Lord Madison came close behind him and loosed the straps of the cock-gag, letting it fall loosely around Peter's slender neck. The thick rubber cock now dangling between his breasts leaving a trail of drool running down. Peter gasped deeply for air, his jaw now too tired to complain of his mis-treatment. He took the opportunity to try and relax for a moment, to regain some of his composure. It was an opportunity however which did not last for long.

THWACK!

Peter let out a high-pitched squeal as Lord Madison swung the carpet beater hard onto his unprotected arse cheeks.

THWACK!

"That is how you beat a carpet Francine!

THWACK!

With the correct application of vigour and determination!"

THWACK!

"Please stop!"

His lordship leant forward and placed the intricate cane weaving over its matching welt on his maid's quivering backside, taking precise care to line each shot up and leave a most attractive pattern on each cheek.

THWACK!

Lord Madison gripped the beater with both hands and swung in a fashion modelled after a cricketing cut-shot, though he had not played from a number of years, and with enough force to bend the willow handle quite considerably.

THWACK!

"Enough! Please!"

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

Finally, some minutes later, when they were both panting hard from the exertion, Lord Madison allowed the carpet beater to fall at his side, stepped forward and released his maid from his bondage. Peter collapsed to the floor and gently rubbed at his now very tender arse cheeks.

Nikki258
Nikki258
128 Followers
12