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From: Christine@Ms-Christine.com
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.bondage
Subject: Under Control - part twenty-four
Date: Fri, 14 Oct 2005 10:53:48 +0000
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===================
Under Control
by Victor Bruno.
part twenty-four
It was several hours later that Paul began to become aware of
his ultimate fate at Bel Air. Miss Mandy had issued explicit
instructions to this end and had delegated Delia to carry them
out.
He lay on his back on a heavy bench, spreadeagled, secured by
straps at his wrists and ankles. Delia, quite naked, sat on his
face; she was turned towards the lower part of his body.
Half-suffocated by the lush spread of her buttocks, his nose
and mouth in her widened cleft, he was tonguing her constantly.
His tongue, which had barely recovered after serving Miss
Mandy, was aching painfully. He was in abject terror, as Delia
was holding a cut throat razor; so, in fear, he tongued as
instructed.
She, meanwhile, was shaving the hair of his chest and his
belly. Already she had shaved all the hair off his head, to give
him the closest possible crew-cut, and had also removed the hair
under his armpits.
That she was very much enjoying her task, and his ministrations,
he was well aware. Her soft wet flesh quivered and she uttered
little gasps from time to time as she went about her work.
Sometimes Paul's vision was fully obscured by the crush of the
fulsome hindquarters; sometimes he was able to see the curve of
her buttocks in immediate close-up just above.
Terrified also of becoming aroused by her closeness he tried to
concentrate his mind on something else. He shivered and
shuddered as the open cut-throat razor slid over his flesh
whilst Delia hummed contentedly to herself.
Her task was to remove every single hair from his body... a
preliminary to the next stage of the transformation which Miss
Mandy had devised.
Paul, it need hardly be said, was in a state of the keenest
agitation and filled with a hopeless dread. Because he knew
there was absolutely nothing he could do to change the course of
events which had been planned.
Delia seized his flaccid organ and gave it a painful tug.
"It is lucky for you, slave," she said, "that my orders do not
include cutting this off. Making you a eunuch, in fact."
She ran the tip of the razor around the root of his organ and
his scrotum and Paul's blood froze. Half drowning in the
succulence of her, he choked out an incoherent cry of mercy.
"But that would have been too easy," continued Delia. "Quite
rightly, I now realise, your mistress, Miss Gloria, wishes to
retain all your male faculties whilst yet, in effect, making
you a woman. That will be far more arduous for you to endure. I
am sure your suffering will amuse many ladies in future."
With meticulous thoroughness Delia began to shave Paul's pubic
hairs, keeping a firm grasp on his stretched penis. Despite the
shock and humiliation, he found himself stiffening. Delia
giggled and played with him with a kind of callous arrogance.
"You are a randy bastard, aren't you?" she said. "Well, there
soon won't be many more opportunities for this kind of self
expression, I can tell you!"
An even deeper despair filled Paul. He was aware, in some way,
he was going to be virtually emasculated. But quite how he did
not know.
Delia completed the close intimate shaving of the genitalia and
then, after a final tiny little shiver of pleasure, slid her
lush bottom off Paul's face.
Greedily he gulped in air. There had been moments when he
thought the crushing female flesh would truly suffocate him as
his mouth and tongue had worked incessantly. Yet he had not
dared to stop for a moment.
"I'll give you a sound caning if you do," his young blonde
mistress had promised, "and, tender as you are, I know you
wouldn't like that one little bit."
Paul had been well aware of the truth of her words.
Now, with breasts bouncing provocatively before him Delia
completed her task by shaving his thighs and legs.
"We've got to have you as smooth as a girl all the time," she
said with a wicked grin, "so I'll be doing this regularly with
creams. How does that take your fancy, slave?"
"I... I... am in y-your hands... c-completely, mistress,"
croaked Paul.
Delia nodded complacently. "That's absolutely right," she said.
Copyright: Victor Bruno.
URL <a href="http://www.mschristine.com/bruno.html">Bruno
Books</a>
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