Date: Wed, 29 Mar 2006 12:33:12 -0800 (PST)
From: Phil Hughes <phil_hughes1968@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Professor (Chapter 3)

(I have enjoyed all of the comments and encouragement from readers. Keep it
up and thanks to all of you, Phil)

The weather had again turned hot. I spent Monday constructing and
installing a wooden gate. It was an easy job, one that I normally would
have enjoyed shirtless and in shorts soaking up the sun's ray, but I dared
not show my newly hairless body. The sweat ran unhindered down my chest and
legs. I was constantly aware of my feminine state. On Tuesday evening I
went to my gym for my twice weekly workout, but it was far from usual. I
could feel the eyes of every man in the gym on me. Even though I was fully
covered I imagined that they knew what had happened to me. I was becoming
extremely paranoid, a mental disaster. Sunday's resolve to embrace my
predicament and what I knew deeply to be a real part of me melted in the
heat of the guilt that gnawed at me.

Twenty year old memories came creeping back from their deep dark places,
memories of an extremely inebriated sixteen year old boy waking in a lawn
chair, the steady slap of waves against the dock hypnotizing me and a man,
my employer standing over me; telling me that everything was fine, to just
go back to sleep and I did. Despite the blurred vision of my jeans at my
knees I passed back into limbo. I knew his hand was moving up and down my
engorged cock and other memories of lying face down on that same dock, the
smell of rotting fish in my nose, naked from the waist down, a weight
pressing me deeper into the wooden planks then nothingness until I was
vomiting over the side of the dock either from alcohol or shame.

Part of me had been waiting all my life for it to happen again and now that
it had occurred it threatened to consume me. I pulled the small rectangle
package from the mail box on Wednesday morning. Inside the neatly addressed
manila envelope I found an unmarked video tape. I felt sweat beads popping
up all over my body as I nervously inserted it into the player.

The dark screen awoke to an unfamiliar scene.  The lens panned over a
bedroom, darkly decorated with a large mahogany bed the center of
attention. Four massive posts rose towards the sky offset by blood red
sheets with a satiny sheen. The clear eye of the camera panned the bed from
the foot to the head, a blond woman lay there on her belly, face turned
away from the camera. Her thick hair was cut in a short bob. Her back rose
and fell as if in a deep sleep. She was clad only in a red bra and matching
g-string that disappeared between the cleavage of her taut round bottom.

Two young men stepped into view, the first was a dark well built Hispanic
who looked to be in his mid-twenties his thick penis jutting from a black
mass of wiry curls led him towards the bed. The second man was no older,
but looked taller and leaner. He too was led in by his long thin cock that
waved from side to side with each step he took. He knelt by the sleeping
woman opposite of his darker companion. There was no wasted time as four
hands began to move about her unprotected form. Fingers trailed lightly
over her smooth, well formed legs, up her back and over her full round buns
massaging and kneading her pliant flesh. I was spellbound as she began to
move under their touch almost immediately, her hips rotating ever so
slightly as long fingers dipped out of sight between her slightly parted
thighs pressing her sex into the soft sheets beneath her. The Hispanic slid
up the bed, kneeling by her shoulders his hands traveled beneath her chest,
his short thick cock resting on her blonde hair. His counterpart
concentrated on the hidden region between her thighs as they spread inches
more to allow him access. A glance passed between the smiling young men and
in unison they eased her onto her back. To my shock a full erection
protruded out of the top of the too small swath of sheer red material.

I was staring at my own painted face; red lips parted slightly, dark lashes
resting gently on my cheek, framed by the neat blonde wig. The Hispanic's
hands slid from my shoulders to the front clasp of the bra and opened it
easily to reveal my smooth hairless chest, erect nipples angry red were
squeezed between his thumbs and fingers. He teased them lightly with his
nails bringing a moan from my open mouth. His partner took the sides of the
thin g-string and easily slid the material off my legs, leaving it hanging
precariously on one ankle. With little effort he pushed apart my knees
exposing my drawn up balls and opening my anus to his two middle fingers
that sunk easily to his palm into my stretched opening. The head of my cock
was covered with pre-cum catching the light as the camera zoomed in. I made
no attempt to avoid his long fingers; instead, my knees parted further
offering him easier access.

The lens moved from the busy work between my spread thighs traveling up my
body every detail in perfect focus. The Hispanic's penis stretched my lips
out of proportion inverting them with each slow push then pulling their
fullness outward with each withdraw, my cheeks hollowing slightly, as the
void occurred. I heard the moan that escaped from around his cock as I was
mounted below, the torso of the Caucasian young man coming into the
picture, the camera trailing down to capture the squeeze of his ass cheeks
with each long thrust. There was no resistance and no form of restraint. It
was not at all as I had remembered. I sat there staring at the white noise
doubting all that I believed had happened. I could no longer trust my own
memory; my lust had supplanted what I thought that I knew and the truth was
there, in living color.

Shaking my head I rose from the chair and walked to the computer that I had
ignored for several days. Forefront in my mind was the possibility that I
was too late to stop the tapes from being mailed to my family. I logged
into my mail and found three mails waiting for my reply. As I had guessed,
the first two contained pictures, not stills from the movie, but similar,
in that no restraint was being used to influence my cooperation with the
men. I scanned over the note that accompanied the first set of stills. It
was exactly what I needed to push past my fears. It was a detailed list of
demands and expectations from the professor. Quickly, I skipped to the
third note and sent a brief reply, thankful that he had given me until this
evening as a grace period in which to contact him. My note read simply:
cooperating fully with your commands; yours, Phil. I sent the initial list
of demands to the printer, gathered it and moved quietly to my room reading
each line carefully.

The note: 1) Clear all weekend schedules immediately. 2) Answer all
correspondence upon receipt. 3) Maintain your hairless condition. This site
contains suggests lotions and tips. (site name here). 4) Trim eyebrows and
dye them blond. Dye hair blonde. 5) Schedule tanning bed appointments,
minimum three per week. 6) Destroy existing under clothing and purchase
matching bra/panty sets from Victoria's Secret. (panties should be sheer
g-strings: bras should be padded A cups) Suggested colors include, white,
black, baby blue, pink and red) A minimum of six sets required. 7) Purchase
and practice application of lip gloss and mascara. Pinks preferred for lip
shades. 8) Maintain and paint toenails, pink or red. 9) You will enter
through basement entrance upon receiving arrival times from this day
forward. 10) Refrain from masturbating unless permission is given. These
conditions are non-negotiable.

I was hard by the time I finished reading the list. I went to the suggested
site and ordered a cream that promised smooth skin with daily application
then moved to my underwear drawer to empty it. By the end of the day I had
purchased two shades of lip gloss and three colors of polish. The mascara
application proved to be the hardest task. I had to go out and buy a
make-up mirror that magnified my face. I was not a pretty girl, but had
always been considered a handsome man. The feminization had never been part
of any fantasy I had entertained, but now it thrilled me. It was a complete
submission to his whims. I was extremely embarrassed as I shopped at the
local Victoria's Secret, pretending the purchases were for my girlfriend
did little to ease my sense of shame.  The fact that I didn't know sizes
hadn't helped, as I tried to explain to the sales woman that she was
exactly my size. When I saw her whispering to another sales agent I nearly
turned and left empty handed. I needed to complete the tasks offered by the
professor, not because of any lingering fear of exposure, but because I
desired it. I needed to submit and prayed that he would maintain his
dominance. I needed to stay at a disadvantage mentally and vowed to follow
his commands meekly.

"Get undressed," the voice I recognized as belonging to the professor came
from behind the bright light that shown directly into my eyes blinding me
to anything beyond. I was scared, my knees threatening to give out as I
bent to unlace my tennis shoes. It had been two full weeks since I had been
in his presence, two weeks of anticipation and two weeks of trying to
perfect my obedience of his commands. My body was smooth; my lashes
appeared to be longer, heavy with mascara. I chose pink lip gloss that
matched my toenails, offset by the matching sheer white g-string and
bra. My bare feet hit the cold concrete floor sending a shiver up my spine,
as I pushed my jeans over my hips standing on one foot then the other to
remove them. For the first time I noticed the noise that I guessed was a
camera whirring from within the light. "Nice," he commented as I reached to
lift the sweatshirt over my head. My penis was soft form pure fear and held
tightly in place by the taut material. I reached for the clasp on the bra,
but he stopped me, instructing me to turn slowly. On the table to my left
set the blond wig. I pulled it into place and adjusted it using the mirror
behind the table. Immediately I was transformed into the woman I had
watched so often over the past two weeks, as she eagerly submitted to her
lovers. It was no longer me looking back into wide brown eyes. I ran the
tip of my tongue over my lips and reached for the white thigh high
stockings turning back towards the professor, as I rolled them, like I
recalled my mother doing so often and slid them on, standing again to
adjust them. Taking the final piece of clothing from the table, a satin
wrap around dress, I slipped into it and fastened the three tiny pearl
buttons that ran up the side. It fell in length to just above the stocking
and opened at the neck low enough to glimpse the bra.

My eyes opened slowly to the dream. I looked about my surroundings
recognizing the mahogany bed from the video. My legs and arms stretched to
the four mighty posts, as the light of the early morning sun crept over the
dark room. I lifted my head and scanned my tired body. I needed to pee. I
was wearing a silky pink nightgown and a cock ring. My mind began to put
all the pieces of the night before together.

I stepped into the basement as instructed and was greeted coldly by the
command to strip. In seconds I stood in g-string and matching white bra on
the cold concrete floor. I had been warned about drinking prior to my
visit, but I had smoked a joint that calmed my nerves considerably. The
professor wasted no time. He wrapped a collar around my neck and fastened
it snugly in place then tugged sharply on the lead insuring that it was
secured. I saw him reach into a bag and felt the tug of the blond wig being
fitted over my newly dyed hair. The blindfold went into place followed by
the leather cuffs, trapping my hands in front of my waist with a four inch
link of chain. I felt him secure the ankle cuffs, but left them unchained
then he pulled sharply downward on the lead forcing me to my knees. Before
I could think I felt his cock rubbing against my face. I could smell the
sweat emanating from his crotch, as he bragged of remaining unwashed just
for me. The taste was salty and sour on my tongue as I cleaned him as
ordered, feeling life flow into the warming piece of meat. I was still
amazed by the velvety feel of his head as it rubbed over my tongue; that at
least was as I had remembered. He was a patient man in some ways, not
allowing himself to cum. He enjoyed testing the limits of my gag reflex
holding his penis entirely inside my mouth, teasing the opening to my
throat. He instructed me on what he wanted, coaxing me in the use of my
tongue and lips between jamming himself fully into my mouth. It was my
first lesson in a long night.

The professor changed directions quickly. When he had enough of my mouth he
pulled me roughly to my feet and led me to the wooden staircase leading to
the main house. I stumbled along behind him in total blackness stubbing a
toe, in the process. I was pulled through the house by the lead that he
seemed to enjoy tugging and finally ordered to step up onto some sort of
platform. I could feel the instability of the table or whatever it was as I
cautiously stepped up. I heard him behind me speaking to someone and
realized we were not alone. "What do you think," he asked, not waiting for
an answer before ordering me to turn slowly. I was on display. A rough hand
from below me ran over my smooth thigh. I could not move away. The hand
pinched my ass as I turned then slapped my cheek playfully. I was commanded
to dance. A cryptic sonata filled the room from distant speakers. I had no
rhythm and felt awkward as I attempted to move to the music. When I spoke,
saying I couldn't dance, I was greeted with a sharp slap to the back of my
thigh and told to keep quiet and obey. I feared that I would fall off of
the raised dais at any moment, as I felt my way slowly turning, swaying my
hips in my best attempt at a dance. It was not long before I was situated
between the two hungry men on a couch. Their hands moved freely over my
body. Their mouths forced mine open, their rough beards scraping my skin as
they forced me to kiss them each in turn. I could feel them heating up as
their movements took on more urgency. The stranger took delight in telling
me what a bitch I was, his demeanor was rough and demanding. When I did not
return his kiss he smacked my exposed thigh causing me to jump. I learned
quickly that he would not relent, that no was not an option.

There were subtle differences in their cocks. I knew who was in my mouth
despite the similarity in size and girth. My head hung over the foot of a
bed leaving me upside down. Both men were eager. The show I had been told
to put on seemed to fire them up even more. I had been very grateful for
the blindfold as I sat between them with one leg held in each man's
lap. The g-string and bra were gone. My left hand was held fast secured to
something above my head while I masturbated for them, alternating my
strokes between slow and fast, as they commanded. The whir of the camera
assured me that I would be held accountable. The constant toying of my anus
and intermittent slaps on my spread thighs kept me from reaching orgasm
despite the fact that it had been almost two weeks since I had last felt
relief and despite the fact that it turned me on tremendously that they
were watching this act.

 I had long forgotten the wig and make-up, my balls ached, but now I was
stretched on my back and held fast at the four corners of a bed, a soft set
of balls draped over my nose, I swallowed. It was the unidentified man
flooding my mouth with a thick creamy load. He seemed to gain a sadistic
joy from my displeasure when he forced his acrid asshole over my mouth and
instructed me to use my tongue, beating me with some sort of paddle on my
belly and thighs until I complied. Now he commanded that I swallow. The
head of his penis was at the entrance of my throat and the thick goop
lingered there slowly draining into my throat and stomach. The professor's
load was sweeter. I knew the softness of his large ovoid head and sucked it
softly as it shrunk in my mouth like magic. I found myself fearing one man
and desiring the other, but in either case I was falling more and more
naturally into the submissive behavior.

A noise from somewhere in the house caught my attention. I turned my head
towards a door to my left straining to hear someone coming my way. The
sound faded leaving me alone with my stiff member and need of relief. I
scanned the room noticing for the first time a large screen mounted to the
wall below the foot of the bed. Without warning it suddenly came to life.
On the screen I saw myself hobbled by a two foot chain between my ankles
making my way across a room, my steps shortened by the restraint. I still
wore the wig and the short pink gown, the fringe falling to the level of my
rigid cock trapped in the cock ring. I remembered how I had to move towards
the sound blindly afraid of falling in my blinded condition.  Waiting in a
wing back chair was the stranger. His appearance was not what I had
expected looking more like a librarian than the sadistic man I recalled.
The camera zoomed in for a close shot as I made it to his location focusing
on his hands as he pried my full cheeks apart and probed my anus roughly,
causing me to raise up onto my toes to escape his sudden intrusion. A loud
smack sounded over the speakers and another, until I settled down onto his
extended fingers. He steadily fucked my nether hole until his fingers were
buried to his palm. I watched with quiet fascination as the small man
guided me down by the hips until I was poised over his short torpedo shaped
dick and remembered how I had lost my balance and fell heavily onto his
lap, his cock instantly buried to its full depth. The microphone picked up
my shocked moan. With my morning erection throbbing I watched myself lift
and lower myself repeatedly to his lap. Each movement became easier as he
gripped my hips firmly and directed my angle. I wanted so strongly to reach
my swollen member, as my mood on screen changed to one of a starved slave
begging for his master. I eagerly went to all fours, my blindfolded head
turning to look behind me when he opted for a new position. I watched the
large image of my ass wiggling like a lure, begging him to fill me again. I
was his bitch, their bitch and I no longer cared to deny it. Even in the
light of day, bound to a strange bed, I knew I would never be the same.