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Vicious Beach - Perfect Choice

By: FictionbyFrozen



"What are you doing back there?" The tall, dark haired woman called to him as he cowered, naked and embarrassed, behind one of the gnarled rocks that dotted the slowly darkening beach of Etanimod Cove. He hoped that she had not seen him, but it was obvious she had, and now she was calling to him again, her voice closer this time.

"You do know this is private property?" she yelled, a sly grin on her face, knowing it was a lie. She had seen him, watched him rather, as he stripped off his shorts behind the very rock he was now hiding behind, and dive into the ocean as he had at this time every day since Tuesday. She had hidden, obscured from his view, in a crack in the cliff, no more than ten feet away, holding her breath as he bent over in front of her, pulling his dark red swim trunks down his long tanned thighs, completely oblivious to his audience.

"I...I...uh..." he stammered trying in vain to melt into the rock as he heard her footsteps circling around the rock.

"What do you think the owners will do to you when they find you down here on their beach.....?" 

"Don't come any closer!!!" he screamed, mortified at his utter helplessness.

"What's the problem?" the woman said sarcastically, "What are you, naked or something?" 

"As a matter of fact, yes." he said. "And I would appreciate it you left me alone." 

"What happened to your clothes?" she asked innocently. She knew full well where his clothes were. They were right where she left them, in a crumpled, tattered heap in the bottom of a Wanhismo Beach garbage can. 

"If I knew that," he said angrily, "I wouldn't be in this fucking situation, would I?" 

"You know, for someone who's completely helpless, you're pretty rude..." she said turning to walk away. "I was going to offer you some help but if you're going to be an asshole you can forget it." 

He was silent for a moment, cursing under his breath. "Wait!" he called after her. "What's your name?" 

"What's yours?" she shot back, turning around slowly, another smile forming on her lips.

"Um Troy..." 

"Well Um Troy, I hope you enjoy spending the night alone here on the beach cause I'm headed home. See Ya." 

"No wait. Please. Please help me." he begged.

"First come out from behind that rock, then... I want an apology." She stared at the edge of the rock waiting patiently, knowing that his humiliation would be unbearable.

When he finally emerged Troy was shocked to see how beautiful the woman was who stared back at him. Tall and shapely with dark, shoulder length hair streaked with blond, she was dressed in a pair of fitted denim shorts cut high on her long tan thighs, and a grey Tommy Girl baby tee that perfectly framed her voluptuous breasts. Pools of emerald green flecked with luminous blue flashes, her eyes seemed to sparkle in the rapidly descending dusk. They were the type of eyes that could see through to your soul. He suddenly felt very weak, staggered by her extraordinary perfection. He quickly cast his eyes downward, unable to look at her exquisite face.

"Well..." She said folding her arms under her breasts, "I'm waiting." 

"Please lady," Troy pleaded, "I just want to get the hell out of here." 

She walked towards him, looking him up and down pleased that he couldn't meet her gaze. When she was close enough she reached out and stroked his cheek lifting his chin. "Look at me when you speak to me Troy." 

He nodded slowly, a quiet murmur of understanding escaping his throat.

"Good. Now tell me you're sorry for being an asshole." 

"I'm sorry for being an asshole." he said quickly.

"That's better...Now do want my help or not?" 

"Yes, yes please...this is so fucking embarrassing." 

"I can imagine, but if you swear again, I'm going to leave. Understood?" 

"Ok, sure...whatever you say, just please help me." 

She stepped back taking her hand away from his face, his sarcasm intolerable.

"That's it. I'm outta here. I wonder what the beach patrol will have to say when they see your pretty little ass." 

"B...Beach Patrol?!" Troy shrieked.

"Yeah you idiot, Beach Patrol. I imagine they'll be along within the hour to pick you up, or..." she paused, a wicked smile crossing her lips, "you can get on your knees and beg me to help you. Your choice." 

"You're not serious?!" 

"What do you think?" A stern look shadowed her face.

Troy dropped to his knees wordlessly, still cupping his hands over his naked genitals, pleading with her, "Please...don't leave me..." 

"Are you going to cooperate?" 

"Yes..." 

"Do you promise to do exactly as I say, without hesitation?" 

"Yes, I promise." 

"Prove it. Put your hands to your sides." 

"OK." Troy let his hands fall away, exposing his crotch to her.

Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze dropped between his legs. He was growing steadily, his penis bouncing gently in the cool night air, and try as she might to control herself, she could feel the corners of her mouth curling upward in a mischievous grin.

"Well, well. It seems as if you like kneeling at a woman's feet," she said teasingly.

"I'm sorry...I don't know what's wrong with me." 

"Well sweetie I don't think it's wrong to get turned on when you're being dominated." 

"What?" 

"Inappropriate to do without permission, sure, but not wrong." 

"What are you talking about?" 

Ignoring him she unbuttoned her cut-offs and pulled down the zipper revealing the bright yellow string bikini underneath. "Do you like it Troy?" she asked coyly.

"Of course..." he said, nodding eagerly.

"I'm glad," she said, slowly untying one of the bows at her hips, "because you're going to have to wear it." 

"What?!" Troy shrieked.

"You heard me. You're going to wear my bikini." 

"No. No way..." Troy couldn't believe she would suggest such a thing, but judging by her unwavering stare it wasn't a request, it was an order.

"What would you like to wear then genius?" she asked. "You can't very well walk around the streets of the Cove naked...how far away from here is your house?

Troy was silent for a moment and then said softly, "A couple of blocks...on Fourth Ave." 

"Well I guess you can't wear my bikini past all those people," she said, shaking her head thoughtfully, "I'll tell you what, we can walk to my house from here, it's right off the beach about a half mile up the coast, how's that sound?" 

"Great." Troy said obviously relieved, then asked, "Do I still have to wear the bikini?" 

"You've got to wear something..." she said, "and I'm afraid my shorts just won't fit you." 

"Oh..." Troy resigned himself to the humiliation of wearing her bikini bottom, telling himself that it would only be for a short time and he would never speak of it to anyone. He stretched out his hand to her and to his surprise she took it in hers and pulled him to his feet. Her strength surprised him, and he suddenly felt very worried that he had made the wrong decision. He tried to pull away from her but she held his hand firmly in hers, smiling disarmingly, glancing down at his partially erect penis. He moved to cover himself but she quickly grabbed his wrist, restraining him quite easily, watching as it grew steadily under her gaze.

"What's wrong Troy?" she asked, teasing him, "embarrassed?" 

"What do you think lady?" he replied angrily, trying in vain to pull away from her.

"I think," she said slowly, "that despite your protests, you like being told what to do." 

"What do you mea.." 

"I think," she continued, "that if you were truly honest, you would admit that part of you needs a woman like me. An intelligent, attractive woman who can see past your facade and sees you for the weak, submissive little ...bitch... that you are." 

"No..." he said, his voice shaking noticeably.

"You're lying Troy..." she said, shooting a quick look at his crotch. His penis stood at rapt attention, its full seven and a half inches bobbing slightly as it throbbed. "You're lying," she repeated looking deep into his shimmering blue eyes, "and the sooner you stop lying the sooner you can experience the pleasure you always desired but were too afraid to feel." 

"What...what do you mean?" Troy asked, utterly confused by his conflicting emotions. Unable to break her gaze, his body ached with arousal, revealing desires he could not explain. Yet part of him remained apprehensive, fearing the submission that lurked within.

"You know exactly what I mean..." she said, watching carefully as he struggled with the thoughts in his head, "...bitch." 

"Why do you keep calling me th...?" 

"Shhh." She said softly, pressing a finger to his lips, silencing him.

Troy let his arm fall limply to his side, knowing it was futile to try to cover his erection. His heart pounded inside his chest, and when she placed her hand above it he felt as if it would jump out of his body.

"Are you afraid of me Troy?" she asked.

"Yes..." he breathed.

"Why Troy, why are you afraid of me?" 

"Because I don't want you to hurt me." 

"I won't hurt you Troy." she said softly, "unless you make me." 

Troy remained silent, wanting to run but unable to move, just staring as his captor turned away from him. He drank in the wonder of her statuesque body as she nudged down her shorts, catching a brief glimpse of her well toned buttocks, before she pulled them back up and turned around her tiny bikini bottoms in her hand. Troy reached for them but she pushed his outstretched hand aside.

"Turn around Troy," she instructed, "and put your palms on the boulder. As high as you can." 

Troy wheeled around obediently, and raised his arms until they were above his head. Seconds later he felt her nudging at his ankles with her feet, coaxing his legs apart, spreading his thighs further and further leaving his scrotum hanging in the steadily blowing coastal breezes. He took a deep breath as he felt her slide the fabric between his legs, her touch sending tiny jolts of pleasure over his skin. He was sure he felt her fingers linger on his penis as she tucked him inside her bikini bottoms and as she tied the second knot on his hips he felt her hand gently caress the naked flesh of his scantily clad ass. The sweet scent of her perfume wafted up to his nostrils, the fragrance warm and inviting. A well aimed slap on his left buttock startled him and he spun around clumsily, shocked and slightly intimidated by her unprovoked assault.

"What was that for?!" 

"That sweetie," she said, jabbing him painfully in the chest, "was to make sure you know who's in charge, got it?" 

"Yeah...I got it." Troy said, taking a step backward to keep from falling over.

"Good." She pulled her t-shirt up over her head fully conscious of Troy's quick glimpse at her revealing bikini top. "Now put this on and stop staring at my chest." 

Ridiculously small on him, the t-shirt clung to his torso, the Tommy Girl logo stretched to its maximum across his chest, declaring his emasculation.

"Well, I guess you'll pass...from a distance. Now go." She pointed the way, watching as he walked past her dejectedly, his eyes lifeless and defeated. She fell in step behind him, taking in the sight of his ass in her skimpy bikini bottoms, watching gleefully as every step he took pulled them into the cleft of his butt cheeks. By the time they had reached the stretch of sand leading up to her beach house they were no more than a glorified thong. 

"Wait for me by that gate," she said, "I'll be right behind you." 

Troy walked up the soft sand, thankful to finally be there. They had walked the entire way in silence, yet he could feel her eyes screaming at him, manipulating him just by looking at him. He could feel her staring at him now, no doubt enjoying the spectacle of him in her ill fitting clothes, yet despite his predicament his erection had waned only slightly, its prominent bulge lurking obscenely inside his, her, bikini. He dreaded turning around, dreaded suffering the humiliation again, as she so easily exploited his weakness for her. He reached the wrought iron gate and stopped short amazed at the size of her house. 

"Impressed?" she said as she walked past him, taking his hand and leading him through the gate in the tall stucco walls that surrounded a spacious patio encompassing a pool and an adjoining hot tub. 

"It's very nice..." Troy muttered. 

"Thank you." She said, pausing briefly to enter a code in a small keypad on the gate. "Actually it's not mine, not completely anyway...I own a part of it, my girlfriends and I bought it last year." 

"Are they..." 

"Relax...they won't be here until tomorrow...we've got the whole place to ourselves." 

Troy let out a sigh of relief as she pulled him through an archway to a small covered seating area overlooking the patio.

"And besides," she said pulling her key from her pocket, "You're not the first little girl I've taken home." 

"But I'm not..." 

"Aren't you though sweetie?" she said as she slipped the key into the lock opening the door to spacious home. "I see someone in a tight Tommy Girl t-shirt and bikini bottoms, I definitely think she's a girl. Don't you?" 

"Yeah..." Troy answered quietly.

"I thought so." She held open the door as she walked through it and looked at him impatiently. "Are you coming in? Or am I going to have to drag you in by your balls?" 

Troy walked past her silently taking in the well decorated interior of the living room. He was surprised seconds later by her taking his hand and leading him up a few steps towards the kitchen.

She pulled out a barstool tucked under the counter. "Sit. I'll get you something to wear." 

Troy watched her walk away, her hips swaying hypnotically as she exited the room. He still couldn't believe how gorgeous she was. In his mind he replayed her putting the bikini on him her fingers seeming to stroke him gently as she positioned his erection inside the bathing suit. As he thought he could feel the bathing suit beginning to tighten across his crotch again and he swore under his breath as her heard her footsteps approaching.

"This is all I could find in my closet Troy..." she said as she stepped lightly up the stairs, her breasts bouncing gently in the overflowing cups of her bikini top. In her hands she held a pair of gray yoga shorts and a white cami tank top. 

Troy knew they would be much too small for him but he reached for them hesitantly. "I'm sorry...I don't think these will fit me." 

"Not in that condition no..." she retorted shooting a quick glance at his crotch. "For someone who put up such a fuss about putting on my bikini, you sure do seem to enjoy wearing it." 

"I...uh...It's...." Troy was in shock, utterly humiliated by his unbridled lust for her.

"Relax sweetie..." she said reaching around behind her. "I thought you might have a problem so I also brought you these." She pulled a pair of white cotton panties from her back pocket and laid them on the table next to him, smiling as he looked from them to her in shock.

Troy shook his head slowly mumbling a barely audible, "Ohh...noo." 

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that Troy." she said, anger creeping into her voice. "I thought you were going to do whatever I told you...isn't that what we agreed?" 

"Yeah, but..." 

"But nothing." She said quickly interrupting him. "What are you afraid of? That you'll like it?" 

"No." 

"Yes you are. I can see it in your eyes..." She bent over her face inches from his, "It's OK Troy, I want you to like it." 

"Wha... what? Why?" 

"Because the more you like it, the more I want to fuck you." She laid her hand gently on his lap, slowly massaging his penis, feeling it jump and twitch involuntarily against her palm. "Do you want me to fuck you Troy?" 

"Oh god yes..." Troy moaned still clutching the shorts and t-shirt in his hands.

"Are you going to put on your panties like a good girl?" 

"Yeees." He replied, his mouth quivering as she leaned closer, kissing him softly, her tongue whispering across his top lip. 

"And the shorts?" she breathed, kissing him again.

"Yeeesss." He could feel her hand at his hip, her nimble fingers untying the bows at his waist, freeing his throbbing erection.

She gripped his penis in her hand stroking him slowly and with the other she cupped his swollen testicles, squeezing them sensuously until he could feel him straining to keep himself from cumming in her hand. She released him quickly, his moan of disappointment unmistakable as she stood in front of him.

"I knew you were a submissive little bitch..." she said smiling ominously.

"Please stop calling me that..." Troy pleaded as his breath caught in his throat 

"But that's what you are isn't it.....bitch." 

Troy shook his head slowly, intimidated into silence.

"Oh but you are Troy...you're a weak...submissive...sissified...bitch." She leaned over him as she spoke resting her hands on the arms of the chair, daring him to speak, fueled by the unmistakable fear in his eyes. "And I'm going to enjoy making you my pretty little femme..." 

"I...I can't..." 

"Oh you can sweet thing..." She paused licking her top lip ravenously, "because it's what I want and all you want to do is please me, isn't that right...bitch?" 

Troy's mind was screaming at him to run, but his body would not move, conflicted by the fear in his chest and the ache in his groin. He felt his lips move but he could hear no words.

"What's the matter missy, did you think I didn't know about your desire to be feminized? Or maybe you thought I wouldn't notice the way your cock jumped when I showed you the panties?" 

"I...it didn't..." 

"Are you calling me a liar bitch?" 

"No. I..." 

"Why don't you put them on then, smart ass, and we'll see, won't we?" She backed away from him, tossing the panties in his lap, knowing full well what the outcome would be.

Troy however, was not so confident. Riddled with doubt he pulled the small white panties up his legs and over his thighs, trembling slightly with the sensation that even though was utterly humiliating was not entirely unpleasant. The low rise bikini briefs fit tightly across his hips, framing his swollen genitals in pristine white cotton, the thin fabric nearly transparent as it stretched across his groin, constrictive and arousing.

"You like them don't you?" she asked confidently.

"No." He could not bring himself to admit his weakness to her. 

"That's a lie and you know it..." 

She tried to keep an even tone but Troy could hear the anger creep into her voice again.

"Please..." was all he could manage, his resistance crumbling.

"Maybe you'd prefer something slightly more sensuous...a pretty little satin thong perhaps?" 

"Please n.." 

"I thought so..." She smiled at his shocked expression as he struggled to keep his composure.

"But I think you should wear those for now, at least until we're done with our workout." 

"Wh.. what?" 

"Oh..." she said mocking him, "Did you want to leave?" 

"But I thought..." 

"I'll tell you what you little sissy, I'm going to get changed. Now if you're not dressed by the time I get back...well, lets just say you'll wish you were. Understood?" 

Troy nodded slowly, rendered speechless by her threat of punishment.

She smiled approvingly and then wheeled sharply on her heel, bounding down the hall, unable, and unwilling, to disguise her excitement. Making it obvious to him how much she enjoyed his subservience would make it that much easier to dominate him. Once in her bedroom she dressed quickly in a pair of white stretch cotton low rise hot shorts and a matching crop-top with the Gold's Gym logo emblazoned in black across the front. She pulled her hair, cinching it with a rubber band into a ponytail. Placing two more into the palm of her hand she exited her bedroom eager to see Troy. When she turned the corner she wasn't disappointed. 


Vicious Beach - Perfect Choice



"All ready I see..." Her mocking tone was intended and it served her well. Troy's gaze dropped quickly to the floor at his feet, obviously belittled by her teasing. She walked around behind him placing her hands gently on his hips admiring the noticeable line of his panties beneath the tight fitting shorts. "Just about perfect...I just need to do one more thing, get on your knees for me." 

Troy knelt passively, his back still to her and as she took a handful of his chin length blond hair he stiffened noticeably.

"Relax sissy...I told you I wouldn't hurt you unless you misbehave. Are you going to misbehave Troy?" 

"No," he answered quickly feeling very vulnerable in his current position.

"You're going to be a good girl and do exactly as I say aren't you?" 

"Yes." 

"Yes what?" she tugged on his hair slightly smiling as he flinched.

"Yes I'll do exactly as you say." he answered hoping it would satisfy her.

It did not. "And..." she prompted twisting her fist next to his scalp.

"I'm going to be a good girl." 

"Yes, yes you are, my prettily little bitch." She proceeded to pull his hair into two effeminate pigtails, wrapping them tightly with rubber bands. 

She walked around in front of him, her bare feet whispering softly on the carpet, and Troy looked up at her sheepishly. Her outfit accentuated her flawless curves and he tried to look without staring yet he could not help himself. 

"Do you like what you see Troy?" she asked not turning around.

"Ye... yes. You're beautiful." 

"Thank you Troy..." She turned her head looking at him curiously, "I didn't think you had the courage to admit that. Most girls are far too insecure to admit they find another woman attractive." 

"But I'm not a.." 

"You certainly look like it to me in your tight little shorts and tank top." 

"But.." 

"That's enough missy," she said sternly, silencing him. "It's time for our workout. Follow me." 

Troy rose to his feet and followed behind her obediently, never taking his eyes off her luscious buttocks. Barely covered in her hot shorts, they left very little to the imagination and yet his was running wild. By the time he was ascending the curved staircase to the second floor a hard-on was again raging, pressing insistently against the tight fabric of the constrictive panties. 

"Can I ask you a question?" he blurted suddenly.

"Since you just did...no," she said shortly. She led him across a bridge overlooking the living and dining area below and into a large dimly lit room. She flicked a number of light switches and the room was bathed in bright fluorescent light

Troy had not expected the entire room, save for large picture window to his left, to be completely mirrored. From the floor to the ten foot high ceilings, everywhere he looked all he saw was himself and the beautiful woman beside him. The room held two bowflex machines, a treadmill, and two stairmaster. Beyond that was a 9' x 20'rubber exercise mat and a rack of various sizes of dumbbells in front of a big screen television and a tower containing several components of a home theatre system. A sliding glass door led out to a deck overlooking the pool.

"C'mon you," she coaxed, taking him by the hand. "We've got to stretch out before we get started." She pulled him past the machines and onto the exercise mat turning him so they were both facing the mirrored wall. "I want you to follow my movements as best you can...I was an instructor at Gold's while I was in college but judging by your body I think you'll be able to keep up. So I don't want to hear any whining or complaining..." 

"OK" he replied.

She began stretching with Troy mimicking her movements, but as she continued he found it more and more difficult to concentrate. Her body was perfect, a sculptor's dream, and with each exaggerated movement he became more entranced by her. Every time she bent forward he could see a wide expanse of her cleavage, the dark valley between her breasts so inviting, yet so unattainable. And when she began her calisthenics routine he felt as if he would burst out of the tiny gray shorts. He had never been so aroused in his life, and so tormented. Every fiber of his being burned with desire but his reflection demeaned him with his feminine image. Confusion clouded his thoughts and despite his best efforts he couldn't quell the hunger in his groin. 

Troy's arousal did not go unnoticed.

"Enjoying your new clothes I see," she said as she dropped into a push-up position.

Troy could see by her reflection that she was staring at the prominent bulge at his crotch and he dropped quickly to the mat beside her. "Well no, not really," he said unable to hide his shame.

"That's not what it looks like to me," she quipped, moving up and down with crisp, graceful motion as if it took almost no effort. She could've guessed that he wouldn't stop staring at her, or couldn't. Most men gave her a second look, or a third, especially at the gym. She worked hard to keep herself looking the way she did, and with a genius level IQ, she knew exactly how to use it.

"Tell me sissy," she said as she rose to her feet waiting for him to finish, "what's making you so...disobedient?" 

"Wha...what?" Troy had no idea what she meant.

"Disobedient. Defiant. Ill behaved." 

"I don't know what you me.. ugh!" 

She stepped on the small of his back, smashing him into the floor. "Did I give you permission to have an erection?" 

"No but..." 

"That's correct," she said before he could finish, "I didn't. And the next time you tell me no or disagree with me in any way you will be punished. Understood?" 

With her foot still firmly planted on his back Troy quickly agreed. "Yes..." 

"Yes who?" She dug her heel into him watching him wince in pain.

"Yes ma'am?" Troy responded uneasily still not knowing her name.

"That'll do for now." She took her foot off his back and flipped him over with her toe, pointing at the unmistakable bulge in his ill-fitting shorts. "But that will not." 

"I'm sorry," Troy apologized. "I can't help it." 

"That's because you're pathetic and weak," she said softly. "So easily tempted, so willingly dominated, the more you submit become the more desirous you are." 

Troy lay there looking up her helplessly, unable to argue. Try as he might he could not help but believe her, the proof was throbbing urgently inside his white cotton panties.

"I can tell by your silence that you agree." She smiled and extended her hand to him. "You have been warned, the next time I will not be so understanding." 

Troy nodded as she pulled him to his feet and led him over to the stairmasters. Guiding him onto it'

s platforms she pushed several buttons starting him on an intense fifteen minute program. She mounted the one next to him and before long she was matching him stride for stride. The sweat poured off their bodies and as it did Troy observed her bra-top becoming more transparent as the minutes ticked by. By the time the timer on his machine hit zero her light brown nipples were clearly visible through the saturated fabric.

"I thought I told you to stop staring..." She walked toward him menacingly and he flinched. 

"Take off your shorts." 

"Wha...unh!" She slapped him sharply leaving his words trapped in his mouth.

"Don't talk, just take them off." She watched as Troy pulled the shorts down to his ankles and just before he was about to step out of them she grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled him to the ground at her feet. "Keep your forehead pressed to the ground bitch. I'm going to teach you a lesson." 

Troy was shaking as she walked around behind him his face tingling from her unexpected assault. When she yanked his panties below his upturned ass he tried to pull away but before he had a chance her hand shot between his thighs and encircled his testicles, squeezing them tightly.

"Stay still you little priss. You were warned weren't you?" 

"Y...yes ma'am," he stammered fearfully.

"Repeat after me bitch...I'm sorry I was bad girl Mistress," she began.

"I'm sorry I was a bad girl Mistress," he repeated, his voice trembling.

"...I am weak and deserve to be punished," she concluded.

"I am weak and deserve to be punished." 

"Now I want you to repeat that every time you feel my hand spank your pretty little ass." 

She smacked his right buttock, her palm making a sharp crack that echoed throughout the room as it made contact. She paused, listening to him recite his statement of subservience, running the palm of her hand across the top of her chest, moistening it with her perspiration and really lit into him, not stopping until the right side of his ass was glowing red and her hand stung. She slid her warm palm between his legs, cupping his balls, playfully jostling them between her fingers, feeling the weight of them hang heavily against her hand. Just as she felt him begin to relax, she gripped him tightly and repeated her spanking until both sides of his ass were the same scarlet color. 

"Pull up your panties and stand up." she instructed, his words and incomprehensible whimper. "Every time you disobey me those are the words I want to hear, understood?" 

Troy pulled up his panties slowly, the tight cotton feeling like a thousand tiny needles against his skin. Never more humiliated in his life he was horrified to feel that his erection had not subsided.

"Turn around," she commanded, knowing he was still fully erect, and knowing that given the humiliation he had just endured he would be at a loss to explain it.

But she asked anyhow.

"Perhaps you'd like to tell me why you continue to disobey me?" She tried to sound as if she was losing her patience with him, even though he was behaving exactly as she hoped.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled through his quivering lips. "I'm trying to do as I'm told, I am." 

"Maybe I've misread you, maybe you're not the obedient little priss I'd thought." 

"I could be," he claimed. "I want to be." 

"I don't think so," she said simply, shaking her head. "I think you're a wanton little slut." 

"Please..." 

"Please what?" she asked. She reached out her hand, letting her index finger trace the contour of his penis inside his panties. "Please don't make you admit that you like being spanked, or that you deliberately disobeyed me because you like being punished?" 

"I wouldn't do that..." 

"Not consciously," she said, slipping the tip of her finger inside his waistband, "but you can't deny that so far you've exhibited several behaviors clearly indicative of a pretty little slut, going all the way back to when I first saw you prancing around naked on the beach." 

"But I..." 

"Just admit it," she insisted. "You're a bad girl. And you like it." 

"Yes," Troy acknowledged, bowing his head in surrender.

"Yes what....slut." 

"I'm a bad girl." 

"And?" She slipped another fingertip inside his panties and pulled him close to her.

"I like it." 

"Like what little girl?" Her other hand was now on his hip caressing him gently.

"I like being a bad girl," he breathed, the words flowing easily from his mouth.

"Do you want me to treat you like a bad girl?" She asked, all four fingers now inside his panties, twisting and pulling subtly on the soft material.

"Yes ma'am," he moaned, aching for her.

"You want to be my trashy little whore don't you sissy?" 

"Oh god, yes ma'am..." Troy struggled to restrain himself, his hands clenched into tight fists.

"You're going to be my submissive little femme-slut aren't you?" She pulled the waistband of his panties down and tucked it behind his balls, making all seven and a half inches of his throbbing cock stick out majestically, bobbing slowly as it pulsed with yearning.

"Yes ma'am, ooh god yes!" He knew he would cum if she touched him and he braced himself for his climax. To his surprise she pulled away from him.

"You can start by addressing me as 'Mistress'," she said simply. 

"Yes Mistress." 

"Very good." She brushed past him as she made her way over to the Bowflex machines. "Come over here and do exactly what I tell you." 

"Yes Mistress." Troy stepped out of his discarded shorts and walked the few steps over to her side, his neglected penis bouncing demeaningly atop his swollen testicles.

She sat down on the bench, arched her back, thrusting her perfectly formed bosom skyward and began doing pulldowns, her form flawless. Troy followed suit, the allure of her body only increasing the ache in his groin. He followed her through the intense, high rep workout, marveling at how fluid her movements were, keeping perfect rhythm with her breathing, never seeming to tire, and never needing a rest. When she finally finished, every muscle in Troy's body ached and his erection remained as prominent as ever.

"I'll be right back," she said as she retrieved a towel from a shelf on the wall. "Take the rest of your clothes off and wait for me by the treadmill." 

Troy peeled off his sweat soaked clothes, thankful to be rid of the clingy feminine attire. His erection ebbed quickly, relieving him of some of the embarrassment he felt as the minutes passed. Instinctively he covered his genitals as he heard her footsteps in the hallway, realizing his mistake immediately when he saw the anger in her eyes.

"Did I give your permission to cover yourself?" She was incensed, never thinking he would be that stupid. "I've tolerated enough of your stupidity! Turn around and put your hands behind your back! I hoped I wouldn't have to do this but until you can prove you can be trusted..." 

She reached into one of the pockets of her short silk robe and Troy heard the smooth click of the handcuffs moments before he felt their cold steel close around first one wrist then the other. Restrained and disarmed by the sudden turn of events he had not even noticed the box she held in her hands. 

"I think these will be perfect for you," she said with a smile as she laid it on the floor at his feet. "Every slut loves to wear heels and I really do think these are your color." 

She flipped off the top revealing a pair of strappy high-heeled open-toed sandals. Bright red with a four inch heel, they were an eye-catching pair of shoes, guaranteed to bring the slut out of almost anyone. She had found out Troy's shoe size on Wednesday from his discarded sandals on the beach, special ordered three pairs, red, pink and white, from Sinful Obsession, an adult store back in Optimum City, and immediately had them overnighted to her. 

"But.. but I can't wear those, I'll..." 

"You'll do exactly as I tell you." she hissed, removing one of the shoes from the box. "Because if you don't, all you'll do is prolong the inevitable. And only make me angry. Do want me to be angry with you?" 

"No Mistress." 

"Then I think you'd better apologize." She flipped the shoe over in her hand bringing the heel to bear on the underside of his testicles, lifting him easily onto his toes.

"I'm sorry Mistress," he squealed quickly.

"and..." she prompted.

"I'm a bad girl and I deserve to be punished." The words rolled easily off his tongue. Almost too easily for Troy.

"That's better.." She pulled forward forcing him to move towards her, his testicles trapped neatly between the heel and sole of the shoe. "But I won't punish you again. Instead I want you to listen very carefully to what I'm about to tell you..." 

"Yes Mistress," he breathed, uneasy at her proximity.

"You're letting your fear of humiliation overpower you. The only way to conquer that is to trust me. Your heart and mind have already begun to bare themselves to me by your actions and desires; the only logical step is that your body be exposed to me as well. You will grow to know me as well, and through that you will grow to trust me. And the more trust you give me the deeper our relationship will become until all you thought once humiliating and perverse will be the most intimate and sensuous pleasure you've always imagined it could be." 

Troy stared at her longingly, her voice washing over him, gently eroding his reluctance. He could only nod slowly in response, and he was relieved to see the corners of her mouth turn upwards into a satisfied smile. It was when she glanced down that he realized what she had been smiling about. His penis had again sprung to life, its rigid shaft once again betraying his yearning.

"It seems that you're eager to begin," she laughed as she removed the shoe from between his thighs. "Very well then...Lesson one: walking. Get your cute little butt on the treadmill and you can show me what you've got sissy." 

Troy climbed aboard the treadmill suddenly realizing that his nakedness could easily be seen through the large picture window. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could his mistress reassured him.

"Worried what people will think if they see you?" 

"Yes Mistress." 

"Don't be," she replied. "All the windows in this house were specially designed to allow people to look out but not to look in. It affords exactly the kind of privacy my friends and I need." 

Troy nodded slowly in agreement, his mind at ease. It was short lived however. His angst increased considerably when she knelt and took his left ankle in her hand and slipped the first shoe over his foot. It fit snugly but not uncomfortably. He balanced precariously on the four inch heel as she slipped the other shoe on his right foot and when she had finished he not only felt completely helpless but also curiously uninhibited.

"You like them," she asked rising to her feet, "don't you?" 

"Yes Mistress," he answered, flexing his toes inside the toe strap, "very much..." 

"I told you they were perfect for you," she said smiling. "What do you say my little slut?" 

"Thank you Mistress." Troy answered obediently.

She picked up the remote control from the console at the front of the treadmill turning on the television. Punching the keypad with her thumb she tuned it to the Style channel where models were strutting their stuff on a catwalk.

"See how those women walk?" 

"Yes Mistress." 

"Note their posture," she said as she moved onto the treadmill behind him. Manipulating his body gently as she spoke she continued, "Push you shoulders back, arching your back slightly, so your chest is accentuated. Very good. Now notice the unmistakable sway of their hips. They achieve that by crossing their ankles as they walk, making their gait decidedly feminine. I want you to mimic that exactly." 

"Yes Mistress," Troy replied obediently, trying not to reveal his hesitation. 

"Good girl." 

She knew he was unsure of how he would manage; his calves had already started to tremble in their uneasy state. But she was proud of him for trying to sound confident even though she was sure he had never been more insecure and vulnerable in his life. She stepped off the treadmill and moved around to the front, carefully pressing the buttons on the console. She heard him take a deep breath as the readout counted down to the start of the belt, and as he took his first step he pitched forward awkwardly, and he would've fallen on his face if it hadn't been for her catching him neatly by the upper arm and steadying him. 

"Thank you Mistress," Troy breathed, thoroughly embarrassed.

"You need to relax and let your effeminate qualities come to the surface," she said looking deeply into his eyes. "I want you to close your eyes and listen to my voice." 

Troy hesitated, looking at her fearfully.

His Mistress shook her head disappointedly. "What are you so afraid of? Did I not just keep you from falling? Why do insist on defying me?" 

"I...I'm sorry," he answered, stumbling again as the belt of the treadmill continued to move..

"Don't bother," she said angrily, letting go of his arm. "If you think you're so fucking smart, do it on your own then." 




Vicious Beach - Perfect Choice



"Please Mistress!" he begged, "I'm trying to do as you ask..." 

"Don't you lie to me you worthless little priss, I should've left you on the beach where I found you. You don't deserve to be my femme, as a matter of fact you don't even deserve to look at me." 

Troy averted his eyes quickly, staring at the floor.

"That's better. Until I tell you otherwise do not look at me, do not talk other than to answer 'Yes Mistress'. Got it bitch?" 

"Yes Mistress." Troy answered quickly.

"Prove it. Shut your eyes and stand walk like I told you." 

Troy tried to do as she instructed but he couldn't seem to keep his balance on the heels and his legs trembled with every step.

"I want you to clear your mind..." she said softly. Walking around next to him she placed her hand on his wrists unlocking the cuffs. "

Now picture yourself standing naked in front of a full length mirror. Do you see yourself?" 

"Yes Mistress." 

"Good. Your body is smooth and shaven except for a small patch at your crotch, your skin slightly perfumed from the lilac soap of the bath. You slowly pull on a tiny pair of lacy white thong panties, the thin strip of fabric between your legs curving gently between your taut buttocks exciting you as you pull them onto your hips." 

Troy was completely entranced by his Mistress' voice. So much so that he didn't even notice that he had fallen neatly in step or that his penis was slowly becoming engorged.

It did not go unnoticed by her however. She smiled triumphantly and continued in a sultry whisper. "On the bed next to you is a sexy two piece skirt set in pink mesh with white, flowered lace trim. You pull the camisole top down over your torso, the thin fabric tight against you. The material stretches across your breasts, nearly transparent, and you reach up, gently massaging your aching nipples. Your hands linger on your breasts for only an instant but as you reach for the matching skirt you can see by your reflection that your girl-cock is pressed urgently against your panties, its rigid contour discernable beneath the feminine lace. Barely covering your shapely buttocks the skirt rests snugly on your hips, the pink mesh hugging every contour. Your pretty thong panties are clearly visible beneath your skirt and as you bend over to slip on your white high heeled sandals, you feel the skirt ride up suggestively, perfect for the wanton femme-slut that you are, and as you strut out of the room as I have taught you, you peek behind at your reflection knowing that I will be pleased." 

Troy continued to walk, or rather sashay, on the treadmill, oblivious the fact that he was now doing so with a perfect feminine gait. With every step his hips swayed back and forth smoothly, his heels clicking rhythmically on the deck of the treadmill. She watched quietly, the picture of him acting so effeminate, wearing only the high heels, was creating a dull ache from between her thighs, one that would have to wait to be satisfied.

"Open your eyes, my pretty little slut," she instructed, "take a look at how you've progressed." 

Troy opened his eyes slowly, looking nervously at his reflection. He half expected to see himself in the outfit she had described and when he saw his naked body in the mirrored walls, his erect penis bobbing obscenely, he wished that he was. He knew he would be punished for his weakness and he was at a loss to explain it.

"It seems that you like the idea of wearing a pretty lace thong, doesn't it?" 

"Yes Mistress," he answered, utterly humiliated by the undeniable truth.

"Or maybe you like the way it feels to walk like a whore in a pair of high heels?" 

He uttered the only words he was allowed to speak. "Yes Mistress." 

"I must say I'm not surprised," she walked around the treadmill, stepping up onto the deck in front of him. "When it comes to wearing panties it's all you can do not to beg for them isn't it?" 

"Yes Mistress." 

"I want to hear you beg for them slut," she instructed. "But you'd better be convincing..." 

"Yes Mistress." 

"Which means," she continued, "that I don't want to hear that voice. You're voice should be soft, sultry . . . feminine." 

Troy opened his mouth but she stopped him before he could utter a word.

"Look at me," she instructed, "I want to see your pretty blue eyes when you beg your mistress for a pair of panties." 

He gazed upon her beautiful face the words catching in his throat.

"I'm waiting..." she said impatiently, her lips curling into a wicked smile.

"Pleassse Misstresss..." Troy sounded gay as gay could be but he forced himself to continue. "Pleassse Misstresss may I have a pair of pantiess?" 

"What kind of panties would you like slut?" she asked, still smiling.

"I...I don't know." Troy responded.

"Yes you do," she countered, "You want what every pretty little slut wants, you want a pretty pair of lace thong panties like the one I described don't you slut?" 

"Yesss Misstresss." 

"Lets hear it then bitch." 

"Pleassse Misstresss, may I have a pretty pair of lace thong pantiess?" 

"Keep practicing slut." She punched two numbers on the keypad, setting the clock for 59:00.

"Yess Misstresss." 

"I'll be back by the time that stops." She left him on the treadmill listening intently as she exited. Turning around by the top of the stairs she called out to him. "If you get it perfect, I may just give you what you want!" 

She could imagine the look on his face; the confused look of lascivious wanting for that which is utterly humiliating. She had seen that look on men before, but this time was different somehow. It felt...flawless. She had always felt a small twinge of guilt, a little prick of sorrow for the men she dominated. But not now. She could look in his eyes and see how much he wanted it. For the first time she could feel that it would last. The others had ended badly, never lasting more than one night. To enslaved by their own insecurities to keep, she dismissed each one unceremoniously, disgusted by their lame attempts at subservience.

But Troy was completely unexpected. He didn't leer at her like the others. He was in awe of her. He had not dared to touch her, something that was attempted almost immediately by most. It was as if he knew she was woman to be worshiped, by thought and emotion rather than by touch. His intelligence intrigued her, he was a quick learner. Only failing to control the one thing that he could not. His size alone was impressive, but his utter lack of pride of his substantial and unexpected erections was even more so. She had not expected such a strong reaction to the his wearing the panties, and she suspected that this was not the first time he'd worn a pair. Most likely the first time in front of a woman, but he would soon grow accustomed to that.

She did not go directly to her bedroom but instead made a quick detour to the study in the rear of the house. She called it the study only for convenience purposes. Its actual purpose was far more devious. One of the other women who owned the house with her was a TV news producer who had made quite a name for herself as an investigative reporter. Lucille had quite a lot of knowledge in the areas of surveillance, both audio and visual. The "study" was the hub of an intricate system wired throughout the entire house. Similar to the house on "Big Brother" save for the fact that all the cameras were hidden. Some behind mirrors, like the ones in the gymnasium, and some in the various ornate trinkets placed strategically around the opulent home. 

She pressed a button and the wall slid open revealing a bank of 16 monitors. She watched Troy for a moment, his hips swaying flirtatiously as he walked slowly on the treadmill, his lips uttering a silent request. She dared not turn on the volume. She didn't want him to know about the log of his deeds until the time was right. Her right hand slid beneath the silk fabric of her robe as she watched intently, gently massaging her full D breast. She let out a relaxed sigh as she pinched her nipple instinctively, the sight of Troy's subservience making her body yearn for pleasure. Her left hand slipped between her thighs, her fingers parting the robe as they found her warm vagina. Leaning against the wall she rubbed her clitoris in slow circles before first one then another finger between the soft lips of her vulva. Never taking her eyes from the screens she masturbated slowly, biting her upper lip to keep from crying out. Before long she could feel the climax building inside her. She clutched at her breast, her robe falling open, as she pressed her thighs together, riding the orgasm to wonderful conclusion. Breathless and lightheaded, she continued to stare at Troy, knowing he was finally the perfect choice.

Troy was near collapse as the timer read 00:59. The last twenty minutes had been hell with his legs alternating between burning pain and agonizing numbness. And now as the last minute slowly diminished he was sure that he would never be able to make it to the end. His erection had ebbed long ago and now slapped feebly against his thighs with every step. 

Adding to his humiliation was the constant uttering of the plea for silk thong panties. Exhaustion and repetition had rendered his voice dry and raspy. No longer recognizable as his own, he seemed to have taken on a sharp womanly whisper as he tried to sound as feminine as possible. 

"Please Mistress, may I have a pretty pair of lace thong panties?" The words echoed down the hall to his Mistress as she slowly ascended the stairs.

She had showered and carefully chosen an outfit that accentuated her curves and did not leave much to the imagination. A tight fitting, spaghetti strap, midriff baring camisole top, made of black stretch lace, and a matching pair of stretch lace boy short panties would be more than sexy enough to keep his attention, especially given the built-in bra with the push-up underwire cups that pushed her ample breasts together down the plunging neckline of the cami top. A sexy pair of black leather sandals with a four inch platform sole and eight inch spiked heels completed the outfit. She had pulled her hair into a twist behind her head, a few curly, loose strands framing her face flirtatiously. Every aspect of her appearance was carefully calculated to present the most seductive and intimidating woman possible. Right down to the silver handled riding crop held loosely in her hand. 

"Did you miss me slut?" she asked, entering the room just as the treadmill beeped its conclusion.

"Yes Mistress," Troy replied, his eyes flashing quickly from her face to the riding crop. 

She tapped it lightly against her leg as he stared at her. "Well," she said impatiently. "What are you waiting for? Get over here!" 

Troy stepped off the treadmill weakly, every muscle from his ankles to his hips jelly. He could not bear to look at her as he strutted over to where she stood, only able to look at the ground at her feet. 

"Look at me slut," she whispered. She brought the leather tip of the crop underneath his chin, raising his eyes to hers. In her ultra-high heels they were now eye level and as she looked into his eyes she could feel his heart trembling, his will bending, his soul succumbing.

"You've made quite an improvement my dear..." she mused.

"Thank y..." 

"But," she said quickly, "you're still much too...rough, to be a woman. Turn around and pick up that towel on the floor." 

Troy turned around and knelt, moving to retrieve the discarded towel. Before he could even begin his Mistress grabbed a handful of his hair and jerked him to his feet.

"Try again slut," she scolded. "This time, bend as far as you can from your waist, then bend your knees. That's how every little femme-slut does it, using every opportunity to show off her cute little ass. And since that's what you are that's the way you'll do it." 

"Yes Mistress," Troy answered.

"Every time." She emphasized her words with a quick swat of the crop as he bent over, a bright red rectangle on his butt in it's wake. "And don't make believe you can't touch your toes either. Remember I've seen you do it." 

"Yes Mistress." Troy picked up the towel as quickly as he could, his knees buckling, his ass high in the air, the perfect target for another well aimed strike.

"I believe you had something you wanted to ask me," she demanded.

"Yes Mistress." he responded quickly. 

"Well?" 

Troy looked at her, completely unnerved and utterly humiliated and uttered his request.

"Please Mistress, may I have a pair of lace thong panties? "

"Do you think you deserve them slut?" she asked fighting back a smile.

"Yes Mistress," he answered. Troy realized his mistake as soon as he felt the leather crop pressing firmly against his testicles.

"I'll tell you what you deserve you stupid bitch!" she yelled. "And I can tell just by looking at you that you've got a long way to go before I give you the privilege of wearing a pair of panties." 

Troy bowed his head in discouragement, realizing that he was helplessly inept at pleasing her.

"Don't look so sad," she teased. "I'd hate to see you give up so easily. You do want them don't you slut?" 

"Yes Mistress," Troy responded, "very much." 

"I know you do," she agreed. 

She circled him slowly, letting the tip of the riding crop whisper over his skin "But before you can put them on you're going to have to become much more convincing, which means more feminine...and I have a few suggestions." 

"Ye...yes Mistress..." Troy said uneasily.

"First I think you'd be a lot sexier if you shaved your legs and your torso," she suggested. "Will you do that for me sweetie?" 

"Yes Mistress." 

"And your make-up is horrible," she sneered. "You have very pretty blue eyes and with the right combination of eye shadow, eyeliner and mascara we can make them even prettier. And of course I have a few shades of lipstick that would match your slutty personality. How does that sound?" 

"Very nice Mistress." Troy responded.

"You're going to have to kiss my ass to get it..." she teased. "Literally. Now get down on your knees and show me how badly you want to please me." 

Troy knelt obediently at her feet, submissive and docile. As she turned around in front of him the sight of her lace covered hips and the skin of her buttocks that was left exposed was more than he could manage. His penis was growing even before his lips made contact with her firm, round and tanned buttocks. Her body was fragrant and warm and Troy let his mouth linger as long as he dared, his desire for her threatening to overtake him if he waited much longer. As he pulled back he realized his weakness. His penis was protruding wickedly from his groin, one touch all it took to arouse him.

She turned around, her eyes immediately finding his ill-advised erection, her beautiful face clouding with anger. "It seems that you're still intent on being a bad girl..." 

"Mistress...I..." 

She brought the tip of the crop under his chin, raising his head. She bent down, her breasts spilling forward, threatening to escape the confines of her top. "If I hear another thing out of your mouth other than 'Yes Mistress' right now it will be a long time before you'll be able to sit comfortably again. Understood?" 

"Yes Mistress..." 

"Now you listen to me you pathetic little slut," she said, "What the fuck did I tell you about letting you girl-cock get hard without permission?" 

"That it showed how pathetic and weak I was..." Troy answered.

"And..." 

"It showed how much I wanted to be dominated and punished..." 

"Well since spanking you didn't work last time perhaps I will have to find something a little more humiliating and painful to teach you a lesson..." 

Troy looked into her beautiful face his fear growing as an evil smile formed on her lips.

"Stand up and follow me," she said. "I think I have the perfect thing." 

Troy scrambled to his feet, panicked by the thought of something more painful than the merciless spanking she had administered earlier.

She pulled a step-up stool from beneath the rack of weights and placed it between Troy's feet.

"On your knees whore," she said slapping him on the hip with the crop. "Clasp your hands behind your back." 

Growing more uneasy as each second passed Troy obeyed. Yet his arousal remained. 

She pushed down on his shoulders until his buttocks were perched on the edge of the stool, then nudged it forward slightly with one foot. His testicles were now pushed forward, laying flat on the coarse, granular surface of the stool, his girl-cock still throbbing above them. She stepped lightly upon his genitals, slowly grinding them beneath the platform toe of her shoe.

"How does that feel bitch?" she asked.

"It...huh huurrrtsss...." he shrieked.

She held him in place by a handful of his hair sneering at him as he winced in pain.

"Not the answer I was looking for..." She placed her heel on his testicle, threatening to puncture the skin at any moment, knowing the pain was not too extreme but the fear of the unknown even worse.

"I'm a bad girl and I deserve to be punished..." 

"Is that what I told you to say?" she asked. "I don't think so!" She pressed her heel down harder forcing a whimper from between his pursed lips.

"I'm s..ss..sorry I was a b..b.bad girl Mistress, I am weak and de..de..deserve to be punished...." 

"Yes," she replied, rolling the sole of her shoe across his tortured penis. "Yes, you do." She pushed his head forward forcing him to watch as she systematically abused his genitals. Alternating between the broad, flat surface of her platform sole and the biting point of her eight inch heel she dispensed pain with ease, every muffled yelp and whimper feeding her dominance.

"Is this what you wanted slut?" 

"Yes Mistress..." 

She knew Troy would lie. "So you'd rather have me mash your pathetic girl-cock under my foot than be spanked?" 

Troy recognized the trap, and knew there was no escaping it. He was also smart enough to know that the punishment would be worse if he retracted his statement.

"Yes Mistress..." he cried as she ground the head of his now limp penis into the stool.

"Very well then..." She paused, raising her foot a few inches before bringing in down perfectly on his genitals, crushing his testicles on final time before releasing him.

He collapsed forward, writhing in agony, white hot needles of pain so powerful that it took him a moment to realize that he was being pulled slowly to his knees. 

"That's it," she said as she pulled him to her, "breathe. It's all over..." 

She smiled triumphantly as he sobbed, pressing his tear soaked cheek into her stomach. She whispered softly to him, stroking his hair as he blubbered apology after apology. "I know sweetie, I know." 

"Are you through being a bad girl?" she asked softly.

Troy nodded slowly, "Yes Mistress." 

"Very good," she said. "Can you stand up now?" 

"Yes Mistress," he replied as he composed himself and pulled himself to his feet.

"I'm sorry I was so harsh," she said, "but I had to make sure you were worthy." 

Troy didn't respond, unsure of what the correct response to that was.

"I promised you a reward earlier, yes?" 

"Yes Mistress." 

She took his penis in her hand lightly, gently stroking it. "Make your girl-cock hard for me, show me how badly you want those panties." 

Troy was shocked by the sudden change in her demeanor. Shocked and pleasantly surprised. She leaned into him, her other hand, still holding the crop, slid across his shoulder and she kissed him deeply, her tongue affectionately massaging his. He softly returned her kiss, not wanting to seem to eager, remaining submissive to her touch. She kissed him for what seemed like hours and as she pulled away she kept his throbbing member firmly in her hand, skillfully stroking him.




Vicious Beach - Perfect Choice



"Ask me again slut," she whispered.

"Please Mistress," he asked. "May I have a pair of lace thong panties? "

"Do you want to be my pretty little femme?" she asked.

"Yes Mistress," he moaned, her subtle manipulations easing his confession.

She knew he was close to orgasm, and with a few more strokes he would be cumming in her hand. She withdrew her hand slowly, looking down with smug satisfaction at his throbbing erection.

"You see my dear," she said softly, "I can also bring you great pleasure. If you would like more pleasure I suggest you remain obedient. Because I will only treat you as well as your behavior dictates. Understood?" 

"Yes Mistress," Troy replied. The dull ache of pain had not yet subsided, but it was slowly giving way to the pleasant stimulation she had administered. Her sudden act of compassion had stirred something within him, and it seemed that despite his best efforts he was completely at her mercy. He could only stare at her wondering why he suddenly felt quite at ease with it.

She noticed the way he looked at her and struggled not to lose her composure; instead she just smiled a bit and took him softly by the hand. "Come with me sweetie, lets make you pretty." 

He followed behind her obediently, walking as she had instructed him. She led him down the stairs, unable to get the picture of his face out of his head. The way he looked at her was as if he had never seen her before, the conflicting emotions she caused within him not allowing him to think clearly, leaving him open to her direction. The less he protested the better.

"Would you please grab the glasses and the pitcher on the bar?" she asked as they passed them. 

Troy picked up the heavy glass pitcher full of orange juice and vodka, which smelled more like vodka than juice, and the delicate stemware careful not to spill any of the screwdriver on the carpet. He walked slowly towards her, the decreased speed amplifying his pronounced feminine gait. She pointed down the hall towards the bathroom and he could feel his face reddening as he passed her, her hand falling lightly on the small of his back ushering him inside.

"Set them down on the vanity and pour one for the both of us," she told him. "I'll be with you momentarily." 

She opened the door to her bedroom and flicked on the radio, the XM radio filling the entire master suite with the soft sound of a jazz trumpet. The smooth melody drifted slowly over her, relaxing her tension and washing away the anger that had filled her moments ago. She didn't like the violence but it was a necessary evil to get him to submit. She preferred using her sexuality to entice him so much more, and she thoroughly enjoyed the spankings, but when she had the overwhelming urges to hurt him it took all her strength to step back from the edge. She took a deep, cleansing breath and joined Troy in the bathroom.

"Before we begin," she said as she entered, "I want you to tell me what, if anything, you are allergic to." 

"Nothing Mistress," he replied.

"Very good." She smiled and picked up the two full glasses of vodka and orange juice, offering the one with the pink straw to Troy. "To the pleasure of submission, for you and for me," she toasted, a vicious smile adorning her lips.

"To the pleasure of submission," Troy repeated, "for you and for me." He took a slurp, stifling a cough as the harsh alcohol hit the back of his throat.

"Finish it sweetie," she commanded tilting the bottom of the glass with the riding crop. She watched with glee as he sucked down the entire glass, leaving not a drop. She took it from him when he had finished and pointed him toward the large glass shower in the back of the bathroom. "

I want you to clean yourself, but use only cold water. You'll find a bar of soap and a loofa on the shelf in there. You have five minutes." 

"Yes Mistress," Troy replied, quickly bending over to remove his shoes. He scurried into the shower and turned the gold knob marked "C'. Shockingly frigid water descended on him from five different shower heads, the hard needles of spray, one above his head, two just below his chest and two more at his hips, feeling like thousands of tiny icicles on his flesh. He turned around, trying to relieve the agony on his testicles, but he nearly screamed aloud when the water made contact with the raw flesh of his buttocks. He turned around again, backing up as far as he could but the shallow area afforded him little relief. He reached for the soap and began to lather up.

She watched his antics with a quiet curiosity, knowing what would happen, but not knowing what his reaction would be. She had adjusted the spray, usually at a soft spray, to the hard needles he felt after she had finished with her shower. He was in obvious pain but he seemed to be willing himself through it. Another good sign, she thought to herself. She grabbed a large bath towel from the linen closet and laid it flat on the floor at the entrance to the shower room.

She had made a point of it to turn up the central air before she went back upstairs and when he exited his well maintained body was tense and shivering. The water dripped from his body and the sight of him wet and naked sent a shiver through her own body, but not because of the cold.

"Just stand on the towel and let me have a look at you femme," she said trying not to reveal her lust. She tapped at his shrunken genitals, laughing softly at his wrinkled balls pulled tightly to his crotch, his penis limp and ineffective above them. "Turn around, bend over and spread your legs." 

Troy obeyed, still shivering, feeling less and less comfortable as each second passed.

"Wider little girl," she said, tapping the inside of his thighs with the crop. "Put your feet all the way to edge of the towel." 

He shuddered as he spread his legs even farther, dreading what unspeakable plan she had for him. 

"That's better," she said stepping out of the way of the camera, mounted in the mirror above her sink. "Now tell me, are you ready to become my sissified little femme?

"Yes Mistress," Troy replied, unwittingly staring, albeit upside down, into the mirror behind him.

"And do you promise to do what I tell you, to serve me, to please me..." 

"Yes Mistress." 

"Do you give yourself to me, body, mind and soul, forgoing any other sexual pleasure but what I allow?" 

"Yes Mistress." 

"If you break any of these promises, do you understand that you will be punished by whatever means I see fit?" 

"Yes Mistress." 

"And do you also understand that if at anytime you wish our relationship to end you may do so by leaving me the way I found you?" 

"Yes Mistress." 

"Do you wish to leave now femme?" 

"No Mistress." 

"I'm glad to hear that," she sighed. "Now I want you to pick a safe word." 

"Mistress?" he asked, confused.

"A word that you can say that will let me know when you've had enough and don't feel like you can possibly continue..." she explained. "But not a word like 'stop', 'please' or any other word that can be uttered in the throes of passion. Understand?" 

"Yes Mistress, I thin...AAHH!" 

She swatted him sternly across his right buttock, his wet skin accenting the force of the blow.

"A simple 'Yes Mistress' will do," she said. "Or 'Whatever you desire Mistress' unless I ask you a question that requires a specific answer. Understood?" 

"Yes Mistress." 

"Good. Now tell me what have you decided?" 

"Whatever you desire Mistress." 

"That's good femme, you're learning." She smiled broadly knowing immediately what she would use. No other word would seem quite right, and it was a word she had already used to describe him. "Your safe word will be 'perfect'." 

"Yes Mistress." The word sounded just right to Troy, although he hoped to never use it.

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way I think we can begin." She said laying the crop on the marble counter.

She picked up a cordless trimmer from its base and turned it on, its frantic buzz making her wish for something else entirely. But that would have to wait. "Ready, my sweet?" she asked.

"Y..y..yes Mistress," Troy stammered.

She placed the razor on his right thigh, the goose pimples on his skin raising the moist hair precisely as she pulled the trimmer up the length of his thigh leaving a path of short stubble in its wake. She did not expect to shave him clean, only remove the bulk of the hair before removing it entirely with a few bottles of depilatory cream. But that was later. Right now she was enjoying shaving up and down the crack of his ass, letting the head of the trimmer linger behind his balls and over the tightly puckered asshole. When she had finished with his lower body she commanded him to turn around and stand up, but keep his legs spread. She ran the razor down his chest and stomach, pausing briefly above his pubic hair, leaving it until last. She finished quickly, moving with practiced ease and then went to work on his still withered genitals.

She took his penis in her hand forcing it back between his spread legs, pressing it against his balls firmly with her palm. She then began to shave around the base of his cock, leaving a small strip of hair the width of his penis right above it. She then cut across the top of it leaving about two inches of it left and followed that by raising the guard and trimming the strip of pubic hair, leaving slightly longer than the rest. She released him and stepped back admiring her work for just a moment before lifting his penis and holding it to his stomach, effectively pulling his testicles forward. She buzzed his balls slowly, feeling the unique sensation bound to stimulate him. It had its desired effect and when she released his penis it bobbed out in front of him, a tell-tale sign of arousal.

"You've enjoyed that I see," she teased.

"Yes Mistress," he answered fearfully.

"Don't worry sweetie," she said smiling, "I don't expect you to maintain discipline when I'm holding your penis specifically. Even the most pure little priss wouldn't be able to resist their mistress' touch. Go rinse yourself off now, and be thorough, because for every stray piece of hair I find on you, you'll get five strokes from my riding crop." 

Troy retreated to the shower again, once again at the mercy of the cold needles of water. His erection ebbed quickly under the onslaught of frigid liquid yet he could only move slowly, terrified at the prospect of feeling the sharp bite of the crop again. He knew he was destined for failure but he wanted to keep the pain to a minimum as he was sure this was not the last test he would have to pass. He heard her call his name after about five minutes and he turned the water off reluctantly, even though he was once again shivering uncontrollably.

"Let's see how we did," she said as she opened a towel in front of him directing him to step into it. 

She dried him off roughly, squeezing and twisting him this way and that until his body was reasonably dry. She did not touch his head choosing instead to pull his hair back into a loose ponytail with a bright yellow scrunchie. When she had finished she spread the towel on the cold tile floor and directed him to pick off any stray hairs.

Troy knelt in front of her and set about his task thankfully only finding four.

"That's twenty you owe me girlie," she said sternly. "Would you like them now or later?" 

"Whatever you desire Mistress," he answered.

"I think they can wait," she said, adding, "I have more important things to do right now. Step on the towel and assume the same position as before." 

"Yes Mistress." 

Once he had bent over in front of her she dabbed a small amount of petroleum jelly on her index finger and applied it to the rim of his anus explaining, "This is to protect you from any of the cream from going inside you, I can tell you that it is not a feeling that you would want to experience. Therefore keep still and I'll do my best not to let that happen." 

Troy felt her applying the tingling cream to his ankles thighs and buttocks, the acrid smell of the depilatory raising the bile in his throat. When she stood him up it squashed between his buttocks, and suddenly began to grow warmer. He realized now how much it would've burned had it been inside of him. The cream he noticed was two different colors, white around his legs and torso and a deep green around his groin and buttocks. She explained that one was for his bikini line where the hair is notoriously tougher. He nodded in acknowledgement, the realization of the feminine context of her words making his own catch in his throat.

"There now all finished," she exclaimed, obviously excited. "I think you'll be very happy with the results. After a few minutes you're going to step into the bathtub and I'll clean you off and then I'll shave your balls. Sound like fun?" 

"Yes Mistress," he lied, not excited at all about having a razor that close to his crotch.

"That's correct missy, because they're no longer yours anyway, they're mine." 

She emphasized her point by playfully bouncing them in her hand, and drumming on them rhythmically with her fingers.

"Yes Mistress," he conceded.

"And so is this." She grabbed his penis with her other hand gently stroking it. "And I'll do with them as I see fit. So from now on if I catch you touching them without my permission I have a special punishment that I know you won't enjoy." 

"Yes Mistress." 

"I'm going to run the water in the bath and I want you to remember the last time you jerked off," she said, "because it was the last time you'll be doing it without wearing panties and I don't want you to forget it." 

Troy didn't have to think hard. It had been yesterday morning in the shower. He had been thinking about Heidi, his hot young personal assistant, with her flawless tits and the ass that didn't quit. Only twenty-four with blond hair, deep blue eyes and face made for portraits he thought about her often but had never made a move, as it would be career suicide. But he had fantasized about her more than once. And now it seemed he would never be able to again?

"Mistress?" he called.

"What is it sweetie?" 

"What did you mean 'the last time without wearing panties'?" 

"Exactly what I said," she replied. "You're not to touch your girl-cock or your sac without a pair of panties on. Unless of course you are washing them or you're tucking them between your legs to use the toilet. Understand?" 

"Yes Mistress," he replied, regretful and sad.

"But once you've cum in your panties," she said, "you'll be begging me to do it again. I promise. Sweet little femmes like you always do." 

"Yes Mistress." Troy replied, the resignation in his voice that of a person who has just heard an indisputable fact

"The water's ready, come over here." she called to him, her eyebrows wrinkled into a thoughtful arch.

Troy climbed into the tub, warm water up to his ankles. He was having a hard time coping with the fact that he would never be able to masturbate again when he felt her hand encircle his cock again, caressing him with long, deliberate strokes.

"Unless of course you'd rather have me do it for you, hmm?" she teased.

"What...whatever you desire Mistress..." he moaned.

"I think I can't wait to watch you cum in your pretty little panties, I think that when you cum in your panties you're going to wish you had done it sooner, I think that after you've cum in your panties that's the only way you'll ever want to cum...ever...again..." 

A tiny bead of pre-cum glistened on the tip of Troy's penis when she released him, falling uselessly into the flow of water at his feet. 

"Did I give you permission to let your girl-cock drip bitch?" she said angrily.

"No Mistress." 

"What do you have to say for yourself?" 

"I'm sorry Mistress, I'm a bad girl and I deserve to be punished." 

"You still have a little bit of slut in you that comes out whenever I talk about your panties," she observed. She began wiping his legs with a warm washcloth, removing the cream from his calf along with the remains of his hair. "I bet you've even worn a pair before haven't you?" 

"Wha..No Mistress!" 

"C'mon, I know you're lying," she coaxed, "What color were they?" She continued to clean him, now almost finished with both legs.

"Mistress, please..." he pleaded.

"What color were they?" she repeated. "Black, or maybe red....pink perhaps?" 

"I...didn't...I...I never..." 

"Yes you did sweetie," she said, "and my guess is you liked it so much that it scared the shit out of you. Maybe an animal print then? A cute little pair of leopard print bikini briefs?" 

"...." Troy was stunned that she could know his secret, right down to the leopard print pattern. 

"That's it isn't it?!" she exclaimed. "I knew you were a femme. Tell me how it happened..." 

"Mistress..." he begged, "please don't make me..." 

"Would you rather I tell you what I think?" she asked. "Because I have a theory as to how it happened...stop me if I say something wrong. A girl you know, not a girlfriend, just a cute young co-ed in college goes back to your room one night, we'll call her Jenny, unless you want to tell me her name?" 

"April," he said softly, "her name was April." 

"April," she continued, "leaves early the next morning and unable to find her panties, leaves without them. How am I doing so far?" 

"Exactly right Mistress." 

"Right. So anyway you find them twisted in between your sheets and unsure of what to do with them you put them in your underwear drawer. So all week you see them in there and have to move them every morning when you get dressed. And every morning you get aroused just by touching them. April takes you aside one day after class and asks you if you found her panties and you lie telling her you haven't seen them. But you can tell she knows you're lying when she says 'Right, if you do come across them just keep them' then she says, 'besides they'd probably look pretty cute on you anyhow.' You blush and she laughs, not knowing that her innocent flirtation has just made your cock jump in your pants..... Should I stop now or would you like me to keep going?" 

"Whatever you desire Mistress," Troy replied, remembering distinctly what April had said that day. "Let me know how they fit cutie..." 

He had walked the rest of the way back to his suite with a raging hard-on.

"You go back to your room," she continued, "your erection so hard it feels like it will bust through your boxers. You try to get the image of April in her panties out of your head the rest of the day, but to no avail. You masturbate in the shower that night but you still can't shake the image. Except now she's naked and you're wearing the panties. You pull out the panties to throw them away, when you catch your reflection in the mirror, for a brief moment seeing them on you." 

"Mistress," Troy pleaded, "please stop." 

"Why my sweet?" she asked, "am I far off?" 

"No Mistress," he answered, tears filling his eyes, "I never told anyone about that, ever. And hearing you describe it so...precisely...is humiliating." 

"And why do you think that is?" 

"I, I don't know Mistress." 

"It's because you want to express your desires but you've spent so much time repressing them that your mind refuses to accept what your body feels." 

She smiled at him, trying to ease his tension. "Humiliation will give way to acceptance in time, I assure you." 

"Yes Mistress." 

"Now tell me what happened after you put April's panties on," she said, "and I want you to paint me a vivid picture... don't leave anything out." 

"I laid them on the bed, staring at them for about five minutes, nervous and excited at the same time. I took my towel off and hung it on a hook in my closet now totally naked. I told myself that I would only put them on for a second and then take them right off. Just one quick peek and then it was done." 




Vicious Beach - Perfect Choice



"But that's not what happened," she asked, "is it?" 

"No Mistress," Troy replied, "not even close. I pulled the underwear up my legs with my back to the mirror, not wanting to see how ridiculous I looked. When I got them all the way up over my hips I was surprised, first by how comfortable they were and then by how much I enjoyed the feeling of the tight fabric wrapped around my cock. I took a few steps and then turned around slowly, almost as if I was in a dream. I couldn't take my eyes off them. It was as if I was seeing myself for the first time." 

"That's because you were," she interrupted, "you may even feel that way in a few seconds when you turn around." 

"Wha... Why?" 

"Turn around and see for yourself." She turned him around in the tub watching his expression change as the mirrored walls around the tub presented his new appearance. Completely devoid of hair, except for the small patch above his penis and the short stubble remaining on his testicles he looked decidedly more effeminate. She knew by the look on his face that he was intrigued but she asked anyway, just to hear him admit it.

"What do you think?" 

"I, I like it Mistress, I feel very...um..." 

"Pretty?" she suggested.

"Yes Mistress," he admitted, his face blushing as he caught her reflection in the mirror. "Very pretty." 

"I thought you might think so," she said, "that's why I want you to look this way from now on. Can you do that for me sweetie? Can you keep yourself pretty for me?" 

"Yes Mistress," Troy answered, "whatever you desire." 

"I can't tell you how happy that makes me," she said, "now turn back around, there's one more thing I have to do before you can get dressed." 

Troy turned back around to see her holding a small pink can of shave gel and a Venus razor. He had become so engrossed in the story of his first feminization he had forgotten what she had said about shaving him. He stood completely still as she applied the cold gel to his skin, nearly screaming in terror as she ran the razor with one deft stroke underneath his balls. She held his penis aloft between the thumb and forefinger of her other hand, each short quick stroke of the razor increasing his level of anxiety.

"There now all finished," she said stepping back and admiring her work, "no go rinse yourself off with cold water. And wash your hair with this." 

She handed him a bottle of shampoo and conditioner, each one with a picture of a leafy purple lilac on the label. "Make sure you let the conditioner stay in for at least three minutes." 

Troy retreated to the shower again, his testicles already shrinking to his body in anticipation of the torment he was about to endure. Again. The three minutes seemed to take forever and when he exited his genitals were again wrinkled and shrunken. 

"Cone here and sit down," she said pointing to the chair at the vanity. "I have a special idea for your hair." 

Troy sat down, his wet body shivering, watching as she started to put a small roller on the end of his hair. He did not want to know what the outcome would be, but he was sure that it would be much worse than he could imagine. She had poured him another drink and he finished it quickly, the heat of the vodka biting sharply into his throat.

"I want to hear the rest of the story sweetie," she said, "it was just starting to get good." 

"Yes Mistress," he replied, continuing, "I stood in front of the mirror for quite some time, turning to the left and the right, trying to see myself from every angle. It wasn't until I turned almost completely around to see my ass that I realized that I was posing..." 

"Isn't that interesting," she said sarcastically, "poses like what, a Victoria's Secret model?" 

"I guess," he replied, "I didn't really think of it then but yes, kind of like that Mistress." 

"Please," she said, "continue...." 

"So I was standing there mimicking what a lingerie model might do when my hand brushed across the front of the panties," 

"April's panties," she interjected.

"April's panties," he repeated, "I began rubbing my myself through the thin fabric of the, April's, panties not surprised to find my self already aroused. I didn't stop for a while, running my hands over my hips, my crotch, and my ass, wearing April's tight leopard print panties bringing me to a level of arousal that I had never felt before. It didn't take long before I felt the first urges of climax, and I pulled my penis out of April's panties seconds before I ejaculated breathlessly into my hand." 

"Did you take April's panties off after that," she asked, "or did you pull them back on and crawl into bed?" 

"I pulled them back on Mistress," he answered, knowing it was of no use to lie. 

"I thought so," she said knowingly. "But tell me sweetie, how many more times did you masturbate while wearing April's little panties?" 

"Only once," he answered.

"And in the morning when you woke up," she inquired, "you did again didn't you, you little femme-slut?" 

"Yes Mistress." 

"And you never wore a pair of panties again?" she asked.

"No Mistress." 

"Until today," she said. "Why didn't you? I know you must've wanted to, that was clearly evident by your erection on the beach as well as the one you're so rudely displaying now...." 

"I'm sorry Mistress, I can't help it," he moaned.

"I have something that will help," she said as she reached down and opened the cupboard under the sink. She pulled out an unbroken ice-pack and cracked it, beginning to massage the crystals inside. 

"Now answer my question slut," she demanded, "why did you never explore your desires to be feminized?" 

"I don't know Mistress, I just never thought any my girlfriends would understand." 

"I understand," she said soothingly, "I understand perfectly. I can help you realize all the desires you have to be feminized, I'm the dominant woman you've always wanted but were too afraid to find. Come with me my little femme, I have something I know you'll like." 

Troy took her hand and followed behind her obediently, all thoughts of resistance diminished as she led him into her bedroom. The room was large and inviting, with walls painted a deep crimson with dark mahogany trim. A gold colored settee was arranged in the far corner under a bay of windows offering a breathtaking view of the ocean and in front of it lay a white bearskin rug. But the room was dominated by a plush, four poster mahogany California king bed and the rich golden comforter that seemed to glow in the subdued light. Adorned with countless maroon and purple pillows it was a bed fit for a queen. On it lay her gift.

Troy couldn't believe his eyes. On the bed lay a pair of white lace panties, trimmed in small pink lace scallops. Arranged above and below the panties was a matching open-cup balconette bra and a garter belt with four garters, each with a tiny pink bow at the top. Completing the outfit was a pair of sheer white stockings. A pair of strappy high heeled sandals nearly identical to the red ones he had worn earlier, only in white and a white mesh and lace robe. He did not know why but he could feel a smile forming on his lips. 

"I think these will be to your liking," she said smiling at his expression of admiration. "But first I want you to have a seat at the vanity in the corner so I can do your make-up and relieve your girl-cock." 

Troy was surprised at how disappointed he felt, he desperately wanted to feel the pretty white lace against his skin. But it would have to wait. The next thing he would feel would be the frozen sting of the ice pack being pressed against his groin.

"Holding this between your legs should do the trick," she said as she pushed him down on to the stool in front of the vanity. Pressing the ice pack against him she gave him another instruction. "

Now cross your right leg over your left at the knees, keep those thighs closed nice and tight...push your shoulders back, back arched slightly to show off your breasts....that's it...now fold your hands in your lap....excellent. This, is how I want you to sit from now on. Pretty and provocative like the femme-slut that you are..." 

"Yes Mistress," he answered softly, the ice between his thighs beginning to numb him already as she spun him easily on the stool so that his back was to the mirror.

She bent over him as she applied a generous base coat, and small amount of rouge to his cheeks, knowing full well that he was getting quite a good look at her cleavage. Her nipples had become pointed and hard in the cool temperature and she knew it would only serve to heighten his infatuation. Light pink eye shadow came next followed by eyeliner and thickening mascara after she curled his lashes. She traced the contour of his lips with a deep red colorstay lip liner, then painted them with a deep red colorstay lip color and gloss, making his lips look beautifully soft and wet. She then painted his finger and toenails a shimmering pink. When she was finished Troy's male features were virtually invisible.

"My, my," she sighed, "that made quite a difference. In fact I don't think your name suits you any longer." 

Troy could only look up at her, suddenly very docile and submissive.

She reached over his shoulder and retrieved a pink satin sleep mask from the table. Putting it over his eyes she thrust him into total darkness. She reached between his legs and removed the icepack, nodding proudly as she saw the effects. His testicles though still large and full were pulled tight to his crotch, forming a single ball no larger than a kiwi, and his penis had nearly retreated inside his groin, looking more like a knuckle than a phallus.

"You've become a very obedient and submissive femme," she remarked, picking up the panties from the bed. "It makes be very happy to bestow my gifts upon you." 

She slipped the white stretch lace panties over his ankles and up over his knees, pulling him to his feet before sliding them up his thighs. "You will answer to the name 'Lacy' from this point on. It is a name befitting of the feminine attributes you readily possess." 

"Yes Mistress," he answered, nodding nervously. He could feel the panties at the base of his scrotum as she slid them slowly, agonizingly slowly, up over his hips. 

She watched as he held his breath, every subtle movement heightening the sensation of the soft, feminine fabric on his sensitive skin. His hands were curled into tight fists at his sides, and he suddenly bit his lips trying to stifle the moan that sought to escape his throat. She pressed close to him, brushing her nipples, now rock hard from arousal as well as the cool temperature, across his bare chest. The sleep mask was doing its job. By cutting out his optical stimulus it heightened his sense of touch and his arousal. And it could not have been more evident when he let out an impassioned sigh as she slid the thong back of the panties between his trembling buttocks.

"How does that feel Lacy?" she whispered as she encircled his waist, pulling the thong tight against him.

"Wonderful..." he breathed, "It feels wonderful Mistress." 

"And this..." she asked, pulling the stretch lace panties tightly around his shrunken genitals.

"Mistresss..." was all he could manage as she pressed the top of her thigh against his crotch.

"Back to being a femme-slut I see," she teased as his penis instantly began to grow inside his panties.

"Yes Mistress." 

"We'll have to do something about that," she said as she slid her hand over his panties, "won't we?" 

"Yes Mistress..." The pleasure in his groin was unbearable as her fingers massaged the soft flesh of his testicles through the snug material.

"Why did you lie to me Lacy?" she whispered in his ear. "You said that you were going to be a good girl from now on, didn't you?" 

She punctuated her last question with a threatening squeeze of his sac.

"Yes Mistress," he answered, swallowing hard. 

"But you can't behave," she asked, "can you Lacy?" 

"No Mistress," he admitted.

"Why Lacy?" She continued to massage his balls, their weight in her hands growing heavier and more responsive. "Is it because you're an effeminate little panty-slut?" 

"Yes Mistress." 

"I want to hear you say it Lacy," she demanded, squeezing his balls a little harder. "I want to hear you admit what you are..." 

"I'm an effeminate little panty-slut Mistress," he whispered.

"Louder." 

"I'M AN EFFEMINATE LITTLE PANTY SLUT," he said, nearly shouting in his womanly voice.

"Do you think you can keep from cumming in your pretty lace panties long enough to get dressed?" 

"Yes Mistress." 

"Good..." she said, pulling away from him, "...hold your arms straight out in front of you, palms up." 

Troy did as he was instructed, the throbbing in his panties growing more and more persistent, driving him insane with lust. He had never been so emasculated in his entire life, and yet with each submissive act he became increasingly aroused. The more he surrendered the more liberated he felt.

His thoughts were suddenly cut short by two soft clicks from behind him.

"Don't worry Lacy," she said, "these are for my private collection." 

"Oh my God," he thought "she's taking pictures?! How would she.." 

"Don't worry sweetie," she said as if reading his thoughts, "its a digital. I just got a great shot of your ass in your pretty little thong. I can't wait to get one from the front..." 

Troy didn't, couldn't respond.

"I promise you," she said as she came up behind him, placing on hand on his left buttock and giving it a reassuring squeeze, "I'll never threaten you with them, or use them as blackmail. OK?" 

"Yes Mistress," he answered, trusting her his only option.

"I can't wait for you to see how sexy you look Lacy..." 

She pulled the matching lace bra off the bed, and slipped it over his wrists. She slid the spaghetti straps of the underwire shelf bra up over his arms and shoulders she knew it would be the perfect fit. She clasped the hook and eye closure at his spine as tight as it could go and adjusted the shoulder straps so the underwire pressed underneath his pectoral muscle, his nipples clearly visible above the white lace and pink trim.

"Just beautiful Lacy," she remarked as she pushed his arms down and turned him to face her. "You're going to make a very sexy little femme-slut, I think April would be impressed." 

"Yes Mistress," he said as he heard several more clicks of the camera

"Maybe we should call and invite her over," she joked. "I'll bet she'd love to hear how you masturbated while wearing her panties..." 

"Mistress, I," Troy started to say.

"In fact," she continued, ignoring him, "I bet you'd love to show her, wouldn't you?" 

"Mistress," he begged, "please n." 

"I thought so," she interrupted. "I expected that a little whore like you would be an exhibitionist. That's why I invited my friends here to see you while you were upstairs working on your walk." She watched as his jaw dropped, his brightly painted lips trembling as he struggled to find the words. She kept them in his mouth as she surprised him with a deep, passionate kiss. She let her tongue probe his mouth while her hands caressed first his bra then his panties, tracing the contour of each over his smooth skin. She let her finger fall between the cleft of his buttocks following the narrow thong as it disappeared between his legs. She felt him tense as she grazed his asshole beneath his panties, and pressed against it softly, gently raising him onto his toes and pulling him to her. 

"They'll be here tomorrow," she whispered as she broke the kiss. "If you are not here in the morning when I wake up I'll understand....." 

But she knew he would and as she picked up the garter belt she told him so. "But I think you'll still be here. A pretty slut like you will jump at the chance to show off her body especially in the bikini I pick out for you Lacy." 

"Mistress, I.." 

"Quiet Lacy," she said soothingly, her hand cupping his face, "I already know what your answer will be, even if you do not. I want you to forget about that for now and concentrate on becoming the pretty little slut that we both know you want to be, alright?" 

"Yes Mistress," he acknowledged, trying to put the image of hundreds of leering people out of his mind. 

"Besides there are only four of them," she said, standing in front of him, "and they are all women." 

She knew that he had pictured the house full of people and this would be a relief to him. Little did he know that he would find no relief in his submissiveness or his feminization. He would truly know what it was to be a femme-slut. And he would enjoy every humiliating second of it.

Troy just nodded in agreement, comforted by the fact that there would only be the five of them, 

no thought of leaving his mistress arising. He quickly forgot about any of it however when she wrapped her arms around him and fastened the stretch lace garter belt around his waist . The clasps on the ends of the garters slapped his thighs softly as she adjusted the belt and then led him over to the bed, every step seductive and provocative. She sat him down on the bed and when he forgot to cross his legs she slapped him sternly on the outside of his thigh with the riding crop.

"Sit like a lady Lacy," she commanded. "The next time I have to tell you I'll bend you over like the slut you are." 

"Yes Mistress," he replied, crossing his legs obediently.

"That's better," she said, "now point your toes at the floor." 

Troy did as she instructed, seconds later feeling the cool nylon of the stockings being pulled over his feet.

"Now the other leg Lacy," she instructed.

A shiver went down his spine as she slid the other stocking on.

She pulled him to his feet and turned him sideways pulling the right stocking up above middle of his thigh, fastening the clasps of the garter to the white lace band at the top after carefully adjusting them so the line up the back was precisely centered on his calf and thigh. The garters framed his legs beautifully, the bows the perfect feminine accent. She faced him the other way, letting her fingers graze the hard bulge at the front of his panties, not surprised at all at its endurance. As she clasped the fourth and final garter, she sat him down on the bed and watched as he immediately crossed his legs. No doubt that was uncomfortable, she thought, given the magnitude of his girl-cock and the sheer fullness of his balls, but that was nothing compared to the alternative.

"Very nice Lacy," she praised, letting her hand fall lightly on his knee. "If it wasn't for that filthy lump in your panties you would certainly pass for a very attractive woman." 

"Thank you Mistress," Troy answered, her compliment making him blush timidly.

"You're very welcome sweetie." 

She knelt on the floor and slipped his foot into his shoe, buckling it tightly around his ankle. When she was finished she tapped him softly on his thigh and he obediently uncrossed and crossed his legs in the other direction. She took his hands from his lap and pulled him to his feet, admiring the extent of his emasculation with a wicked grin. She licked her lips excitedly while she snapped a few more shots. She then helped him into the short, sheer robe, tied it loosely around his waist and led him back into the bathroom to conclude his physical transformation.

She poured him another drink and wrapped his hand around it, guiding the straw between his painted lips and began to remove the curlers. Tight springy curls emerged on the ends of his hair with distinct feminine bounce. She then parted his hair to the side, pulling the top over his head and fastening it with a large and bejeweled pink and white barrette. It was a smart and sleek hairstyle, obvious in both its beauty and its precocity. It would've been nearly impossible to make him look more like a beautiful young femme than she already had. She refilled his drink and led him back into the bedroom.