file brought to you by - http://www.mrdouble.com ÉÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍ» º IBM Compatables Only The Exchange Must be eighteen or older º º Node One 1.2 Gigs Node Two º º (305) 928-0461 (305) 491-3598 º º USR HST 9600 Ft Lauderdale's Best USR HST 14400 º ÈÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍͼ ---------------------------------- GRETCH03 ----------------------------------- * * * * * * * * * THE SISTERS OF CIRCE The Sisters of Circe was started about a hundred years ago. It seems that there was a group of rather wealthy and independent- minded women who would meet regularly. They would discuss many topics of the day, but generally the main and central object of discussion always came back to the subject of male domination, the treatment of women as property, and most of all, how to overcome this domination and give women at least equal rights. "You must remember that this was in the late eighteen-seventies and women's rights were not even thought about then. Women were considered to be the property of their husbands or fathers," Irene interrupted herself. During one of these meetings, one of the younger women burst out, "I'd like to take one of those men and make him wear a bustle and girdle and all the other uncomfortable clothing and perform the menial housework that we women have to put up with." "Oh, you say that, but you couldn't handle my pet dog, let alone a big adult independent male," another woman answered sarcastically. "I could too! I'm quite athletic. I'm an excellent horsewoman and tennis player. Besides, my brother has a book on the manly art of self-defense and I've been sneaking it off and practicing. I don't want any big, hulking, clumsy oaf. I'd pick one who is small and delicate, one who would look attractive in women's clothes." "And where do you think you would find such a man?" another woman asked. "Males of that sort are all about and quite easy to find, if one wants to look. Why, my father's tailor has an eighteen-year-old apprentice who would make a lovely-looking girl. He's small and delicate. I'll bet that master tailor would sell him for little or nothing, and he's an orphan. No one would ever miss him. I imagine there must be thousands like him." The meeting degenerated from "I wish I could--" to "How's the best way to--" and finally to "If you had one, where would you keep him?" Finally, one of the older women spoke up. "Except for me, my family is all dead. We have a large estate in the country h=that no one uses anymore. It's quite isolated. We don't talk about it much, but father used to catch runaway slaves and hold them there until their masters would come to get them. It has several rooms that were used as jail cells. It also has a punishment area, another way to say torture chamber. Now, if any of you women are serious about the idea of overpowering, capturing, and training a male to wear feminine clothing, then you're welcome to use of the estate." "All right," one woman jibed at the first speaker, "you now know where to obtain your 'man'. You are offered a place to train him. Now, what are you going to do about it?" Stung by the dare, the woman replied, "I'll do it if someone else will do it with me." That created another uproar, and when the dust had settled, no less than five women had each volunteered to domesticate and feminize a man of their own choosing. The women agreed to a few basic rules. No male under eighteen would be taken. Otherwise, a woman could get a lad of ten or twelve and train him with little difficulty. It should be noted that putting boys in dresses for discipline measures was an accepted procedure in those days. If a woman could find a male over eighteen who had been through this discipline, it was her good luck. The second rule was that the selected make should not have any close kin or friends who would raise a big stink if he should suddenly turn up missing. The third was that a male, once selected, would be trained and kept for life, or killed, no exceptions. There would be no opportunity for ex-slaves to disclose any information about the group. There was a bit of argument over this rule, but its importance was accepted. It just meant that the women would be extremely selective in choosing their subjects. It should be noted that through the years, only a handful of males suffered this fate, and these in every case demonstrated violent criminal tendencies. Basically, that was it. Find a male over eighteen that suits you, one with no close family ties and have at it. With only a few minor exceptions, these rules still apply today. Well, to get back to the story, those five women found their subjects. Taking them to this isolated estate, they trained them with surprisingly little difficulty. Contrary to popular belief, the women quickly discovered that the difference in physical strength between the sexes was negligible. The individual with the most rigorous training and the practicing of what we know call the martial arts made the difference. All of the women who first accepted this challenge were quite physical and aggressive. They had no real difficulty in subjugating and training their males. They also found an unexpected bonus in this 'experiment'. Once the male had been thoroughly dominated and forced to wear women's clothing, they actually embraced their femininity and adored their mistresses. They would endure any punishment and discipline just for the honor of serving them. Those old-time women had one problem with their feminized males, though - facial hair. There were no depilatories or even safety razors then - only straight razors. These razors would shave as close or even closer than safety razors today - in the hands of an expert. There were probably many who had light beards or were able to shave closely every day who had no trouble passing as women. However, there were a number of feminized males who could not shave closely every day. These made full use of veils which were very common at that time to hide their stubble. This may have been a significant reason why veils were so popular then. All in all, these first five women were quite successful in establishing their dominance over their feminized male slaves. Like most endeavors, success breeds success, and over the years, the number of women wanting male slaves burgeoned. No one knows how many there are today. There may be hundreds, thousands, perhaps even millions. The original estate where the first males were taken is no longer in existence. The women spread out and formed individual groups in their own town or locality. Each group maintains its own membership. There is a loose confederation, but by common consent, each woman keeps her affiliation secret. There are signs and passwords so that members from different chapters can recognize each other. Another gradual change has been the growth in the diversification of training. At first, the women were only interested in feminizing their males. However, some of the women became interested in variations. Now, in addition to our feminized males, we also have males who have been infantilized, trained to be pets of one sort or another in all kinds of variations, limited only by the imagination of the dominant woman. Although the organization still operates basically the same, there have been some changes over the years. In the late nineteen-forties, one of the members, a neurosurgeon, attempted to develop a procedure whereby males failing to be acceptable could have their memories of their captivity excised. However, the procedure resulted only in insanity for the poor subjects. Despite this one unfortunate failure, we women have developed several improvements in our procedures. We now have improved depilatories, female hormones, and breast implants, and even the birth control pill was developed from original studies done by members of the Sisters of Circe. Needless to say, we women adopted all the new techniques in our training methods and disciplinary measures. However, over the years we have found that nothing has been quite as effective as the good old fashioned lap spanking. It combines a measured infliction of pain and obvious humiliation to the males lucky enough to be selected by a dominant woman. We have also developed other procedures affecting the physical qualities and mental attitudes of the subject males. Most of these are not yet available to the general public. For instance, the depilatory with a hair growth inhibitor that you received is one of our newer developments. Irene smiled, "There is also a potion that I put in your food the first night that can cause the mistress to gain control of the sexual behavior of the subject. It is not fully perfected yet and only sets up the mind of the subject to be receptive. The mistress must use commands, discipline, and punishment to fully imprint it in the mind of the subject. Once established, it should be permanent. They hope to eventually develop it so that control will be immediate without the need to use physical feedback. That is why I can control your genital arousal and erections." She also indicated that there were many other developments, some perfected, others they were still working on. One they almost have completed is a hormone that will stimulate breast development and the growth of feminine curves on the male body without inhibiting the male potency. Retention of male potency is necessary so that male will always be a male, albeit a dominated, feminized one. Another is the ability of a developed male breast to lactate so that they can breast-feed babies for their mistresses. "Another development is the ability to increase the physical strength and agility of we women. I believe you may have noticed its effectiveness when you tried to attack me," she added unnecessarily, with a sort of gloating smile. "These are only a few examples of the advances we have made or are working on. I am sure that if you are accepted as a permanent slave to me, you will be exposed to many more of our developments to make the superior woman's life easier. If certain of these techniques cause the male to be more aware of his subjugation and dependence on the superior woman, so much the better." I listened with amazement. A whole secret feminist organization that was dedicated to subjugating and training male slaves had been going on, under our very noses, so to speak, for over a hundred years without anyone ever knowing about it. After digesting this story, my mind was whirling with questions. "If you can do all that, why don't you just give the selected male a complete sex change?" Irene was amused at the question. "No - we will make our males look feminine, act feminine, and even think feminine. But they must be constantly aware that they are dominated and debased males, subject to the orders, desires, and whims of their superior mistresses. In no way will we allow our slaves to feel that they are anywhere near our equal by giving them a sex change." "Who is this Mistress Circe you keep talking about? If each chapter is independent, how do they know about her?" "The president of each chapter is known as 'Mistress Circe'. It is more or less an honorary title given to the woman who has trained the most males." Chapter Nine She then dismissed the subject. "I've told you all you need to know, perhaps a bit more than you should know at this time. I just want you to realize that once selected, your future is sealed. It is either servitude or death. But tonight, let's talk about other things." During this discourse, Irene had interrupted herself a few times to have me procure us fresh drinks. By know, they were beginning to have an effect on me. To tell the truth, I was beginning to have erotic feelings about Irene. We were still holding hands, and I was fully aware that our hands were resting directly on my crotch. My head was still resting on her shoulder. She then leaned over and gave me a long lingering kiss. While we were trading lipstick, she slipped her tongue into my mouth and began searching for mine. I interrupted her for a moment and asked, "One more thing. How do you know that the 'selected male' can be trained to be obedient?" "Gretchen, our organization has over a hundred years of experience in training and domesticating males. We have developed to a fine art the use of discipline, punishment, training, education, tenderness, love, and even sex to accomplish our objectives. If you are finally selected for servitude, you will see how effective our methods are. It is true that some may take a bit longer than others. But they all learn to be obedient and to love it." She looked at me with a smile and asked, "Would you rather continue the conversation or do this?" She again leaned over and kissed me, tonguing me. At that moment, all thoughts of Circe and its implications disappeared in a wave of erotic feeling. The simile of the black widow spider again went through my mind. I guess I subconsciously realized that this was another phase in gaining domination over me, making it attractive enough that I would willingly obey her commands. But I dismissed the thought. Tonight, in a rising tide of emotion, anything was worth continuing my lovemaking with Irene. By now, Irene was delicately fumbling at my crotch through my gown, while I did the same thing in fondling her breasts. "I'll be happy when you have real breasts that I can fondle too," she whispered huskily. Our kissing grew more intense. My fumbling fingers had no trouble in finding an opening in her gown, and I was soon fondling her bared breast. On the other hand, Irene experienced a bit of difficulty in reaching up under my long skirt. However, she took advantage of the side slit and I could feel the hem of my gown being gradually pulled up over my knees. Then, her fingers began moving up the inside of my thigh, pausing a moment to play with the top of my nylons and gently snapping the garters before finding my lace panties. I could feel my gorge rising as I began pulling up her gown in the same manner as she did mine. She suddenly pulled away from our kissing and whispered in my ear, "I have not yet given you permission to have an erection." Somehow, it worked - again. I could feel myself subsiding. There was no lessening of my sensitivity or passion. I could still feel her fingers gently manipulating me through the smooth nylon of my panties, and they felt just as good and exciting as before, but now there was no sign of an erection. Meanwhile, my loss of an erection in no way slowed down my fumbling fingers, and in no time I had her dress hiked up over her knees, my hands beginning to explore the soft flesh of her upper thighs. I reciprocated to her a little by playing with her garters and nylons. I only dawdled a moment in this area before winding my way up her upper thigh until I found the spot where it met her opposite member. There, my fingers encountered a moist, hairy spot. Either she was not wearing panties or she was wearing those fancy crotchless devices. In either event, I fumbled about the soft flesh until I could find an opening and immediately, but gently, inserted an exploring finger. She arched her back and squeezed her thighs together, trapping my hand while my finger continued its slow and gentle exploration of the warmth and dampness of the crevasses it encountered. Suddenly, and without a bit of warning, her hand moved from my genitals and grabbed the hair of my head. Another surge and I was kneeling on the floor in front of her, my mouth where my hand had been only a few seconds before, and my tongue replaced my finger. Now, if you think that bothered me, think again. At that moment, the most important thing in my life was to get her to come and a result of the ministrations of my lips and tongue. I succeeded and she came, fully and copiously, into my mouth. For a moment, she was lost in a sea of satiated emotion. Almost immediately the fog cleared. She came back to reality and wanted more. She pulled my head back and looked at me, eyeball to eyeball, finally saying, "Why don't we get out of these damn clothes. Maybe, just maybe, I'll allow you to-". I didn't need a second invitation, and we traipsed to her bedroom, dropping clothes as we went. We arrived at her bedroom, still shucking excess clothing. She stopped me before I could divest myself of my bra, garter belt, and my nylons. Meanwhile, she stropped down to the buff. I started to pile onto the bed, intending to continue where we left off. She stopped me, saying, "You must learn that even in your moments of ecstasy, you are still under the control and domination of your mistress. To reinforce the concept of superiority, you must be in bondage during any sexual union with your mistress. Before we continue any further, I must restrain you." I was so eager to get on with our lovemaking that I gladly put my hands behind my back so that she could manacle them. We piled onto the bed. Irene placed me onto my back, straddling me, her knees on either side of my head so that she was looking straight down at my cock and I was looking straight up into her vagina. She immediately lowered herself, and my tongue took on where it had left only a few moments ago. She lowered her head and began licking and nuzzling my cock. We had only engaged in this mutual licking a few moments when she said, "Oh, by the way, you may have an erection now, but no orgasm until I give you permission." That turned on the switch for me. I immediately felt myself beginning to respond and within a few seconds I was rock hard, enjoying the sensation of a warm mouth encircling my prick with an occasional tongue licking at its tip and digging at the tiny opening. Meanwhile, my tongue and lips were working overtime and I could feel Irene wiggle and squirm in response to my ministrations. We did that for a year or so, both of us reaching our pinnacle of eroticism. Then she suddenly pulled away from me, reversed herself, and took my throbbing erection into the warm, moist depths of her vagina. Once she had engulfed me so that we were belly-to-belly, she clamped down on me, closing her legs tightly together, forcing me to spread my nylon-clad legs to accommodate her. We pulsed that way for a century. Wave after wave of excitement ran through me. Starting right behind my ears, it would go down my spine, to be followed immediately by another one. Irene must have been having sensations of her own, as she would throb and quiver, repressed gasps occasionally escaping from between her clenched teeth. Suddenly, her movements quickened, her gasps grew more shallow and rapid. When it seemed that she could move no faster, she burst out, audibly, "Come, damn it! Now! Now!" I was ready, more than ready, and could feel my juices boil up inside me. Suddenly, I climaxed, came, ejaculated, had an orgasm, call it what you will, but I exploded my seed deep inside her, and she took it, straining against me. I quivered, she shivered in our mutual orgasm. Clumsily, but adequately, I clasped my legs together behind her waist, pulling her to me. Meanwhile, she pressed against me, making sure that every bit of me was within her. We froze in that tableau, expending the last dregs of our aroused emotion in a brief stage of frozen bliss. We then relaxed, I released my legs, freeing Irene. She made no effort to pull away but kept squeezing the lips of her vagina on my rapidly spent penis, trying to extract every bit of my come. Finally, no longer able to hold my wilting penis with the lips of her labia, she rolled off of me and we lay side by side for a few moments, reliving our recent experience. Suddenly, Irene roused up. "Our little interlude is over. We'll take a shower together, but then it's time for beddy-bye for you in your own little bed." We took our shower. Miss Irene replaced the chastity irons she had removed during our bath. "Why do you have to put those things on me?" I asked. "You have me locked up in that bed so that I couldn't get out even if I wanted to." "Why, that's to prevent you from playing with yourself while you are alone." "Holy gee! After the session we just went through, I don't think I'll bother myself tonight." "That may be so, but I don't want to get out of the habit of restraining you at night. That way I KNOW you won't bother yourself. Besides, I want you to to be helpless and dependent on me to even allow you the use of your hands." She then locked me in my crib and started to leave me. "How come you lock me in this thing at night? What happens if I have to use the bathroom?" "You'd just better learn to control it. If I should happen to find your bed or you messed up or wet, then you would have to wear a diaper and rubber panties to bed . Not only that, but it would be marked on on your record and you would be required to take potty training during your indoctrination." Without another word, she left me with only sweet memories of our little interlude and an uneasy feeling about having to wear diapers at night. However, in spite of all of the negative aspects of my servitude, it would almost be acceptable if only I was allowed an occasional evening such as this one. Chapter Ten The next morning, my captress came and released me from my bed. "Just to remind you that, despite last night's 'relaxation', nothing has changed regarding our status. You are still subject to my orders and desires. You will continue to address me as 'Miss Irene'. We will be having guests tonight. You will address them as 'Mistress' along with their title or name. Just don't forget. Your memory may be a life or death matter to you." She then handed me a jar. "Here is some depilatory. Put it on, wait fifteen minutes, and then shower. Just make sure that your body is smooth and absolutely hairless when you finish." I rubbed my hand along my face. "I don't think I need that stuff yet. My face still feels smooth and I don't see any sign of hair on my body." It was true. Normally, I shaved every day to avoid any sign of stubble. However, after well over two days, I could still see no sign of even a fuzz on my face. "No one gave you permission to think!" she replied haughtily."You must learn to obey me without question, Gretchen." Then, in a softer tone, "You may be right, but I see no reason to take any chances. If they should find the least little trace of hair on your face or body, you will fail and that will be that. You will be as good as dead. What's worse, I would receive demerits for not making sure that you were presentable." Somehow the thought of Miss Irene receiving demerits didn't upset me nearly as much as the thought that if I didn't pass, I would be dead. You can be sure that I applied the cream liberally. After waiting the prescribed length of time, then showering and rinsing off the cream, I carefully examined my face and body. There was no sign of even a single follicle of hair and my face felt as smooth as a baby's bare bottom. Grabbing a silky shorty robe which barely covered my thighs, I reported to Miss Irene. She had laid out the maid's outfit that I had worn the first day. "You have cleaned the house and done the laundry. Today you are going to cook." "Mistress Circe and two of her companions, Mistresses Cato and Olga, will be the guests, as well as myself, of course. After you have prepared the meal and finished up with all of the preliminaries, you will change into a more appropriate outfit to serve us." "The menu tonight will start off with caviar as an appetizer. A clear beef broth, seasoned with special spices, will be next. The main course will be lobster cooked in an oyster sauce and quail marinated in ginger. The vegetables will be stuffed baked potatoes and artichoke hearts in a heavy cream sauce." "For dessert, you will prepare a few pies with various fillings so that our guests may have a selection. You will serve them beverages of their choice during the meal, and of course you will serve cocktails before and after the meal." "Miss Irene," I responded after listening to the exotic menu that I was expected to prepare, "I did a spell as a short-order cook but there's no way that I'll be able to cook all the stuff you mentioned." "Gretchen! This is part of your test! There are all sorts of cookbooks in the kitchen and they have detailed instructions on how to prepare those dishes." "Hurry and get yourself dressed and apply your makeup. Then you can get into the kitchen and have all day to familiarize yourself on how to prepare the menu." "But..." "There are no 'buts'. If you think you can get away with serving these women hot dogs, you are dreadfully wrong - and may as well be dead." With that she turned on her heel and walked off. I carefully dressed, applied my makeup, and brushed out my wig after I had put it on. I said 'carefully', and meant it. I didn't want to flunk a surprise inspection by Miss Irene. I did that a few times in the last couple of days and received some unpleasant jolts. Miss Irene often carries a cattle prod and is not hesitant about using it if she deems that I am not properly attired or following her orders implicitly. I went into the kitchen with a sinking heart. There was no way that I could properly prepare the items on that menu. I was wrong! Among the cookbooks there was a sheaf of mimeographed papers. These papers listed the exact menu and gave explicit and readable instructions on how to prepare each and every dish. By following the directions, and if I didn't try to hurry too much or panic, I could prepare a passable meal. Fortunately to add to my serendipity, there were extra ingredients in case I did mess something up. It was by no means as difficult as I had previously imagined. In fact, after a while, I began enjoying myself, sampling and tasting the dishes in various stages of completion. Later in the afternoon, Miss Irene came into the kitchen for the umptyith inspection. I proudly informed her that the meal was well in hand and would be ready to serve by seven P.M. Everything would be done, needing only a few minutes of final preparation to get it ready to be served. I was then directed to go up and prepare myself to be properly dressed and presentable. For this occasion, I was allowed to use her commodious bath and luxuriated as long as I could in the warm, bubbly, perfumed bath. Finally, reluctant in having to leave it, I dried myself with a big fluffy towel. I was then instructed to redo my nails. This time, I put on false nails, which were long and glamorous. The color, this time, was a deep and unmistakable red. Miss Irene gave me a little device that at first looked like the bottom half of a bikini bathing suit, except that the material seemed to be a kind of stretch elastic. When I pulled it on and got it properly placed, Miss Irene reached inside and pushed my penis back between my legs. I suddenly had no more genitals - visible, anyway. That little flesh-colored device forced my balls back up into my crotch and held my penis back between my legs so that there was not a visible sign of any masculine bulge. I next put on a pair of wispy black nylon bikini panties and matching black lace bra which held my inserts in a completely natural manner. There was also a sheer black minislip with a scalloped lace hem that almost covered my hips. Before I put on my outer clothes, Miss Irene insisted that I apply my makeup. Instead of letting me do it and coming to her later for inspection, she stayed there and supervised the actual application. The basic pancake was bit heavier, the eye shadow a bit deeper. The eye liner and eyebrows were a bit darker and more emphasized. She gave me some kind of stuff to apply with the mascara which lengthened and accented my lashes and made my eyes look deeper and wider. The cheek color was more pronounced and lipstick was a bright red, almost garish. It was the same shade as my nails. Miss Irene explained that under the dim, artificial light, the makeup must be heavier and more defined. She finally concluded, "If you pass and are accepted for training, you will be taught the proper type of makeup for every situation and type of lighting, be it natural or artificial." Now, time was getting short I soon would be judged. I was beginning to get a bit nervous, especially when my captress kept saying 'if'. In fact it began bothering me so much that I got up enough courage to ask, "Do you think I'll pass, Miss Irene?" "Oh, yes, Gretchen. The investigators study a subject rather intensively before they are finally selected. Really, I've been told that there are very few not accepted for training, once they have been inducted for preliminary review as you have been." That made me feel a bit better, but I still had butterflies in my stomach. Miss Irene would allow no more discussion. She handed me the outfit I would wear for the evening. Handed was a good word. It was a maid's outfit, skimpy enough so that you could hold the whole thing in one hand. The basic outfit was black. The skimpy skirt was stiffened so that although the hem should have been halfway between the hips and knees, it was actually much higher due to the wide flare. The top wasn't much more decorous. It had a deep plunging neckline, stopping barely in time to maintain my image of having real breasts. The sleeves were short, puffed out, and capped. I was given a pair of black fishnet panty hose. The weave about the ankles was rather close and tight. However, it opened up as it went up my leg, so that by the time it was up to my thighs the weave was almost an inch square and showed a considerable expanse of white flesh. My feet were forced in a pair of black high- heeled pumps with at least a four-inch heel, taper down to a sharp point. There was a white organdy apron, tied in the back with a big puffy bow. About all it did was to accent the brevity and flare of my skirt. There was also a little white organdy hairpiece perched jauntily on top of my perfectly coiffed head. Miss Irene also had me wear a gold choker necklace with a large brooch like a decoration that the throat which only served to show off the expanse of flesh bared by the deep neckline. A pair of pierced earrings that matched the brooch dangled from my ears. Miss Irene carefully inspected her maid as a finished product. Satisfied with what she saw, she stated that I was as ready as I would ever be to meet my judges and possible executioners. Chapter Eleven I barely had time to get into the kitchen and begin making the last-minute preparations when the doorbell chimed. "That must be Mistress Circe and her companions", called Miss Irene from the bedroom. "Let them in and serve some refreshments. I'll be out in a minute." With a great deal of trepidation and reluctance, I went to the door and to greet my judge and potential executioners. As I approached it, I heard the lock click. Miss Irene had switched off the electronic bolt, releasing the door lock. I opened the door and looked at a lovely pair of boobs! Now, I'm five feet eight with four inch heels, probably nearing six feet, but as my eyes traveled up to the face of the imposing woman facing me, I felt like a size petite. The woman towered over me by a good six or seven inches. Of course, she was wearing heels too, but still, I'd guess her normal height to be over six feet. She had a body like a goddess and had long golden hair that hung down her back, almost to her waist. Her skin was clear and fair, her nose straight and aquiline. The lips were full and kissable. However, all her other features and attributes paled into insignificance when I looked into her eyes. They were green, as beautiful and hard as emeralds, no pity or softness in them. She stared down at me, looking down into the depths of my being, seeing the fear and apprehension that welled up inside me. It was almost a physical effort to keep from falling to me knees and kissing her feet. However, I did bow my head in an attitude of submission. Recovering my composure a bit, I raised my head, not enough to look her in the face again, but to note her two companions. They were quite distinguished in their own right with their imperious, regal bearing. One had dark hair and rather exotic features, who I took to be Mistress Cato. The other, who was blonde, I assumed was Mistress Olga. They were not quite as tall as Mistress Circe, but still required me to look up to see their faces. I stepped aside to let them enter, but they made no immediate motion to do so. They just stood there, eyeing me. Discomfited, I could only stare at the floor and await their pleasure. Finally, Mistress Circe said, "Turn around, slowly." Then she added contemptuously, "You must be the worm that Irene thinks worthy enough to serve us, and after we properly prepare you, emulate us in manners and appearance. Well, we shall see." As she was talking, I was slowly turning about. "Keep your knees straight and touch the floor with the tips of your fingers." Because the high-heeled shoes raised me higher than normal, I had a bit of difficulty in reaching the floor, but after stretching a few times, finally made it. As I did so, I felt my abbreviated skirt and slip being pulled back and my panties being pulled down. Suddenly, two welts of fire were laid across my buttocks. My panties and skirt were replaced and I was ordered to stand and turn around, keeping my head bowed. Needless to say, I obeyed. "You do not raise your eyes to your mistresses unless ordered. Didn't Mistress Irene instruct you about that?" "Yes, Mistress Circe, but I forgot. When I opened the door I was so surprised to see such a majestic and beautiful woman that I was awe-struck and momentarily forgot my manners." "I'll bet you do a better job remembering next time," answered Mistress Circe. I think she kind of smiled but I didn't dare look. I did hear titters of amusement from the other two women who were witnessing my humiliation. About that time Miss Irene came up. "Why, Mistress Circe and Mistresses Cato and Olga, it's lovely seeing you again. I see that you've met Gretchen." "Yes, and I didn't even get inside the door before I had to punish her. Didn't you teach her to be respectful and deferential to her superiors? She had the gall to stare at me. After the lesson I just gave her, I don't think she will do it again for a while." I started to protest that I really wasn't disrespectful, but astonished at her beauty and majesty. However, I bit my tongue and remained silent. "I guess I have been a bit lenient with her. I'll just step up the voltage on my cattle prod and inflict a bit more discipline for even making indications of disrespect." "That is, if she is still alive after tonight," Mistress Circe said ominously, glaring daggers at me, which I was aware of even with a bowed head. Miss Irene then turned to me. "Gretchen, you did not start off by making any points. For your sake, I hope you do better during the rest of the evening. You may ask our guests if they would lime some refreshments, cocktails, perhaps." "Mistress Circe," I croaked. My mouth had become dry in my anxiety and the pain from the sudden spanking. I audibly cleared my throat and again asked the women what they would like. They gave me their orders, and as luck would have it, they each wanted a different drink. Hoping that I could remember and prepare the different drinks, I traipsed a bit clumsily toward the kitchen. Those heels came down to a sharp point and were higher than any I had worn previously. Besides, my buns were still tingling and I didn't dare rub them in their presence. As I left, I heard one of the women comment about my momentary stumble. "She should be able to walk a bit better, and she should also be taught to really sway her ass a bit more provocatively." All I could think of was that another black mark had been chalked up against me. Well, I got the drinks mixed. Here again it was easier than I had feared. There was a book of recipes for mixed drinks lying on the sink and all of the ingredients were easily found. I served them, if not gracefully and practiced, at least not spilling any on the guests, although I did slosh a bit on the tray. Here again, I received negative comments on my serving abilities. I guess they enjoyed making rude comments about my lack of experience because I prepared and served each of the women three or four drinks apiece and received snide comments each time. Between serving the drinks, I was required to stand demurely by the kitchen door, ready to serve if any of the women required anything. They were sitting about, talking in low voices. Although I kept my head deferentially bowed, I could see that occasionally one of them would look my way and then make a comment. Once in a while, one of them would get up and circle about me, inspecting me quite intently. During one of these inspections, Mistress Cato approached, lifted my skirt and felt my crotch. I heard her remark to Miss Irene, "I see where you have her genitals tucked safely away." I heard Miss Irene answer, "Yes, she's pretty well trained not to get an erection without permission. But with her wearing the revealing, abbreviated outfit, you sexy looking women about and the briefness of her training, I just didn't want to take any chances of her showing any unsightly bulge." About that time, dinner was ready, and I announced it. The women seated themselves at the table. I noticed that Mistress Olga made a quick inspection of the table and audibly, so I could hear, pointed out a few errors in the silverware layout. Well, I'm no great chef, but the meal must have been at least adequate. At least, everyone was eating everything in sight, at the same time complaining vociferously about how poorly the meal had been prepared and served. They finally finished the meal and I was about to serve dessert when Mistress Circe said, "We had to suffer through warm drinks and a cold meal prepared and served by that abject failure of a maid. While we have our dessert, she will crawl under the table and try to do with her tongue what she could not do her hands." Obviously, I had failed their test. If I understood Mistress Circe right, my only hope was to try and satisfy then sexually while they were having their dessert. After I served the dessert, Mistress Cato grabbed me by the back of my neck and forced me down on all fours under the table. I knew what was expected of me, and apparently it was my last chance for survival. I crawled over to Mistress Circe. She had pulled her dress up over her knees and spread her legs. I stuck my head between them and worked my way up to her crotch, kissing and licking her upper thighs as I went. I finally reached her crotch. Whether by incident or design, she was wearing no panties, so I had no difficulty in finding her damp little love nest. Did I say little? It may have been little in comparison to her size, but it was almost like a cavern. My tongue could never hope to penetrate its depths, although I tried with every bit of fervor I could generate. As far as I knew, my life depended upon satisfying these women. Although I couldn't reach fully into the depths, I did find a few sensitive spots and was rewarded by convulsive hip gyrations during my ministrations. I kept at it for what seemed like an eternity. I just had to satisfy this woman. Finally, she went rigid and her legs clamped around my head. I thought I was in a vise. This woman was unbelievably strong! Luckily, she only clamped down a few moments and then relaxed. I don't know if my head could have lasted much longer. She reached down with her hand and pushed me from her crotch. At the same time, I could feel another hand grab me and pull me between another pair of legs. I repeated the process. This woman did not have the size or power of Mistress Circe, but she was quite impressive in her own way. As my head was being directed to where the eager woman was waiting in anticipation of my arrival, I recognized her to be Mistress Cato. She had long, tapering legs, and once I positioned myself, she locked them about my head, forcing my head and tongue to just where she wanted them to be. I knew what was expected of me and did my best, and was eventually rewarded by her reaching orgasm and unleashing a flood, which I swallowed. She then relaxed her legs, but she would not release my head until I had licked all the dampness from about her vagina. Then it was time for Mistress Olga. She was different again from Mistresses Circe and Cato. Although her legs were as muscular and toned as my other two mistresses, they seemed much softer and more delicate. Instead of forcing my head into her love box, she sort of guided me, and all during my licking and tonguing, she moved my head about to where she wanted stimulation, which I gave to the best of my ability. Finally satisfying herself with my tongue, she released me. I wasn't sure if Mistress Irene wanted my servicing at that time, but just to take no chances, I approached her. She definitely did want my services and I gladly obliged. Now, although the other women had their good points, when my face snuggled into Mistress Irene's snatch, it felt like I was coming home. Since I had tongued her previously, I had a pretty good idea as to how to turn her on. I used my knowledge of her sensitive areas to bring her to orgasm quite quickly, as my tongue was beginning to tire. After I had serviced all four women, I climbed out from under the table and rose to my feet, head bowed, awaiting a decision. "My goodness," exclaimed Mistress Olga. "Look at her makeup. You would think that a maid who valued her existence would maintain a better appearance." "She sure is a clumsy maid," added Mistress Cato. "All during the time she was under the table trying to please us, the only thing I could hear was her shuffling about. I don't know about her gracefulness." Mistress Circe said nothing, but I could see from under my downcast eyes that she was eyeing me quizzically, a faint smile of derision on her face. "All right, Gretchen," Mistress Irene ordered. "We are going into the den to discuss your fate. You will bring us drinks and wait while we deliberate." I brought and served the women drinks and was then forced to stand outside the den while they discussed my future. There was no doubt in my mind that I had failed and that my doom was sealed. Desperately I cast about for some way out. Then I remembered! Miss Irene had released the electronic bolts for the door when the women entered, and she had never reset them. The door was not locked! Chapter Twelve The women were all busy with their discussion. No one was paying any attention to me. I went over to the door and pushed. It swung open. Slipping out of my high-heeled shoes, I took off, hearing startled gasps as I ran out the door. I hadn't gone ten feet when I realized that I wasn't going far with no shoes. Fortunately, the car in which they had arrived was sitting there. Even more fortunately, the keys were sitting in plain sight on the dashboard. I jammed the key in the ignition. Damn! It didn't work. Trunk key, I guess. I jammed the other key in the ignition, and it didn't work either. Meanwhile, the women were sauntering out, in no particular hurry as they approached the car where I was frantically fooling with the keys. Mistress Olga casually opened the door on the passenger side, slid in, and dangled a set of keys from an upraised finger. "I think these are the ones you want," she said with a sarcastic smile. "Those others are just dummies - for a dummy." I knew I was whipped, had been set up. I slumped over the steering wheel and began making dry, wracking sobs. I could see death staring me in the face. Surely there weren't going to let me live after an attempted escape! Meanwhile, one of the other women, I don't know which, opened the car door and dragged me out. My hands were manacled behind me and I was marched back into the house. As we entered, I heard the door slam and the lock click with dreadful finality. I was back where I started, only now I was in a much more precarious position. I stared defiantly at Mistress Circe's face. Looking her directly in the eye, I said, "OK, you've got me. Go ahead and kill me." She looked at me and smiled. "Your name is James Carrion, is it not?" I looked at her in amazement. "Yeah - how did you know my name? I tried to give it to Miss Irene when she first captured me, and all she said was that she didn't give a damn about my old name or past." "We know a lot about you. No brothers or sisters. Attended State University for two years. Quit after your parents were killed in a storm. Apparently, you lost some incentive to live after their death. Since then you've been working all around the country at various odd jobs. No close friends or relatives. Height about five foot nine, weight about one hundred thirty-five pounds." "Yeah, but how did you know that I'd come to this house? If that dame hadn't taken me down that deserted country road and robbed me, I would never have come to this place." "That 'dame' was a member of our organization. She took you down that road and left you. There was only one way for you to go, and this is the only house for miles around. The rain was a fortunate accident. We Sisters of Circe have many doctors and scientists among our members and have contributed many new and innovative inventions and procedures, but weather control is not one of them - yet." "Well, OK - so when are you going to kill me?" I finally said wearily. "Kill you? Why should we kill you?" "I flunked the test. I tried to escape." "Gretchen, please understand that your testing began the moment you walked through that door. Before that, in fact, since we went through a rather detailed investigation to determine if you were a likely candidate." "Irene has stated that except for one or two minor exceptions, you were quite a docile and cooperative subject. You were even beginning to be quite proud of your feminine appearance." "We led you to believe that you had failed and would be executed. We then offered you an opportunity to escape. By your being alert enough to try to take advantage of the situation, you showed considerable ingenuity. We believe that you will be an excellent candidate to be Irene's personal maid after your training." "Well, what happens now?" "You will be given at least thirty days intensive training at our secret 'College of Feminine Improvement' under the direction of Irene. She will be assisted by Mistresses Cato and Olga and other specialists in various areas of feminine grooming, cooking, sewing, and other specialties in order for you to efficiently serve your mistress." "This training will consist of learning implicit obedience and the proper way to address your mistresses and superiors. It will also include lessons on makeup, skin care, hair arrangement, and grooming. You will be taught how to present a proper feminine appearance and adopt feminine mannerisms so that they will become your natural behavior while serving her or passing in public if she wishes you to accompany her." "You will be one of the first males to undergo our new hormone treatment to permit you to grow natural breasts and more feminine curves. Since Miss Irene has indicated that she occasionally enjoys sex relations with her subject, we will make sure that your male potency is retained." "Also, during this time, you will be shown the advantages and benefits of cooperation and obedience, as well as the discipline and punishment reserved for recalcritant slaves. After that you will become Irene's personal maid and companion." "Yes, Mistress Circe." "One other thing, Gretchen. Who gave you permission to stare at me?" I immediately lowered my head in an attitude of submission, at the same time anticipating and dreading an unexpected future. I must say that the thought of another lovemaking session with Miss Irene would be worth anything these women could throw at me. To cap it all off, I'd get to wear pretty, frilly feminine clothing, even in public. I was interrupted by Miss Irene saying, "Come on, Gretchen, we have to leave here now. There is another prospective candidate scheduled to arrive here tomorrow night. My best friend Lisa is going to greet him." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ÉÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍ» º IBM Compatables Only The Exchange Must be eighteen or older º º Node One 1.2 Gigs Node Two º º (305) 928-0461 (305) 491-3598 º º USR HST 9600 Ft Lauderdale's Best USR HST 14400 º ÈÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍͼ ·