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From: Christine@Ms-Christine.com
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Subject: Under Control, part thirty-three
Date: Sun, 03 Dec 2006 15:28:30 +0000
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===================
Story:- Under Control. Copyright: Victor Bruno.
http://www.mschristine.com/bruno.html
Under Control
by Victor Bruno
part thirty-three
by Victor Bruno
Paul curtsied as Gloria entered her private quarters. He was,
of course, standing ready and awaiting her return... as a lady's
maid should.
"Fetch me a Campari and Soda, Pauline," ordered Gloria crisply.
"Yes, Ma'am... at once," said Paul. This was his new form of
address to his mistress.
He wiggled his way across the room on his high heels. He was
quite used to them by now. Quite used to walking like a woman,
too. It had become second nature.
The daily hormone injections had smoothed his skin so that it
was just like a woman's... and his breasts had developed so much
that he no longer needed to wear the false plastic ones which
Delia had put on him. Although removing them had been a painful
process even with the solvent.
It was now only necessary to wear the false 'vagina' underneath
which his genitalia were permanently crushed. Paul felt the
tightness of his cincher belt. Felt the stretch of the
suspenders to his stocking tops. Felt the cling of the pretty
little panties he wore.
Gloria had forbidden him to wear a brassiere as a general rule,
saying she didn't consider him sufficiently developed. Even so,
his breasts had become as fulsome as many a young girl of
sixteen and he was constantly aware of the bounce and quiver of
them as he moved about.
"I'm thinking of letting a man have you" said Gloria out of the
blue.
Paul shuddered. It was the one thing that he had always
secretly dreaded. "Yes, Ma'am," he said weakly.
"You like the idea, of course?" she said.
Paul was on a cleft stick, as so often with Gloria. Was the
right answer 'Yes' or 'No'?
"I am your slave, Ma'am," he said, "it is not for me to have
likes or dislikes..."
"True... true... Pauline... but I guess you would like it all
the same. That's why I might keep you waiting a little longer."
"When I do give you to someone," Gloria was saying, "I shall
make sure it is a man who actually thinks you are a girl. But a
man who doesn't like sex with women in the normal way. A man who
likes to bugger women. Because I suspect that may be the only
avenue of pleasure left to you. I find that idea rather
amusing."
Paul said nothing. What was there for him to say? Anything
would be dangerous.
"Why so quiet Pauline," Gloria taunted, "perhaps you would like
me to strap on a dildo and make love to you as we women do?"
Paul blushed deeply at the suggestion which seemed to touch a
cord deep within him. Did he really want that, or was it just
the suggestion that his mistress would make love to him? He
lowered his head shamefully unsure of what he truly felt.
Gloria stood up, smiling knowingly. "Undress me, girl," she
ordered.
Paul moved forward and began a most familiar - yet ever
nerve-racking task. It occurred to him briefly that he should
be glad his mistress had suppressed his manhood, for at least he
could not offend her in that way.
As item by item was removed with infinite care, the splendours
of his mistress's body were revealed. Always it gave Paul a
sense of awe. No matter what she had done to him, he idolized
this woman. To have been given an order just to kiss the tip of
one toe would have delighted him.
Naked, Gloria moved slowly and gracefully to her dressing table.
There, while she removed her make-up, he brushed her rich dark
hair. Long and lustrous. This was another delight for Paul.
It is a long time he thought since she beat me. Indeed, the new
smoothness of his bottom was unmarked. Perhaps there is no
longer any need... because I am now the perfect slave who
satisfies all her wants.
It was, indeed, Delia who had made him writhe in torment under
the rod and lash. He was glad indeed to have escaped from that
vicious, buxom blonde... to the haven of a mistress who
punished, but who punished with justice and not simply for her
own amusement and sadistic gratification.
For, whenever my mistress has made me suffer, he reflected, it
was to further my training or because I have truly deserved it.
I have failed her, or disobeyed her, and that is not permitted
to a slave. It merits punishment.
Paul felt an almost irresistible desire to bend and kiss the
smooth, creamy-white back so near him. It would have been an
act of reverent gratitude for Gloria's principles. He resisted
the temptation. Such an action, he was well aware, would rightly
have earned him a most memorable 'good hiding'.
"Pauline," said Gloria, stretching her arms high and wide,
uplifting her voluptuous breasts, "your mistress is feeling a
little perverted tonight."
Paul's nerves tingled. "Yes... Ma'am?" he said.
* * * * * * *
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