Date: Thu, 13 Dec 2012 00:46:16 -0600
From: smitty simon <smittylmsimon@gmail.com>
Subject: The young master chapter 5

I was running through the mansion, being chased by something so horrifying
that I didn't dare to turn around and see what it was. I tried to find my
room, but the once familiar hallways were now disjointed and strange, as if
the building had be rearranged and some pieces had been replaced with
imitations that had a sinisterly artificial look to them. My pursuer was
getting close, its hot, rancid breath scalding the back of my neck. I kept
running, even though I knew I'd never escape. Even a second spared from its
horrible embrace would be worth the hopeless attempts to escape. Suddenly,
out of the corner of my eye, I saw a soft shadow dart into a far
hallway...somehow, I just knew it belonged to a friend. For a moment, I
dared to believe their might be an escape, or at least a place I could rest
for a moment and delay my inevitable damnation. I turned down the hall,
almost falling as the tile became slippery, some thick, milky liquid
coating the floor. I just kept running, knowing each step would be my last
and still taking it anyway, constantly proving myself wrong for just a
moment longer. And then I hit my dead end...at the end of the
hallway...something worse than whatever was chasing me... a mirror...

I was beautiful...heart breakingly, soul crushingly beautiful. My features
had grown even softer from my cherubic chin to my button nose; my lashes
longer, fanning my cum hither sea blue eyes; my lips plumper and shinier,
open and panting at the sight of the vision before me. My hair was falling
about my face, flaxen curls of spun gold, with a lacy cap keeping it
somewhat in order. My breasts were flush as they rose and fell in my
panicked arousal the red set off alluringly by my pale, creamy
cleavage. The french maid outfit was even more fetching now that I had the
figure to fill it. I felt my stockings rub against one another as the sight
of my shapely legs barely covered by my short, ruffled skirt, made me
squirm and shiver. I reached out to touch my reflection, tentative and
fearful...but my reflection wasn't so timid, she reached back and pulled me
in, screaming as I fell deep into the darkness...into the basement...

I was completely surrounded by darkness, a void I had a terrible
premonition was far from empty. I was too terrified to even run, after all,
where was there to go? All I could do was stand paralyzed, petrified as I
awaited whatever horror would reach out of the abyss to claim me as its
own. I almost welcomed it at this point, at least then I'd know things
couldn't get any worse. But there was still that lingering doubt that they
just might get worse than even I could imagine...so I prayed for an end and
prayed for one more second, my thoughts chasing each other down the
drain. And then I saw it...faint and ghost-like, the smallest glimmer of
light. I was sure I was imagining it, my mind inventing phantoms to keep me
company, but I also knew I didn't care. I ran for the light, getting closer
and closer and feeling a welcoming warmth as I saw it take on a woman's
shape. When I finally reached it, Isabella was standing before me, shining
in the darkness like an anger come to deliver me from damnation.

She took me in her arms, her skin so soft against my cheek. I felt safe
with her. It didn't matter that I was in the darkness with no sight of an
exit, it didn't matter that I would never be a man again. All that mattered
was she was lifting my mouth to hers, thrusting her soft tongue into mine,
claiming me as her own with a kiss. A long, loving kiss...so wet...even
after she finally broke our lip's embrace, I felt the wetness...warm,
sticky wetness...I looked at her full lips as they curved into a haughty
smile...I saw something shine from inside...something sharp...she opened
her mouth and razor blades fell out by the handful. I opened my mouth to
scream, but all that came out was a gush of hot blood...I crumpled to the
ground as her maliciously mirthful laughter filled the void, flames
bursting from the ground to illuminate the twisted architecture of Hell. I
crawled back from her still, squirming on the floor, desperate to get just
a little further away from her razor blade smile and predatory
laugh. That's when I felt the breath again...hot rancid...and hovering
right over me...the monster lunged for me...and I could scream again...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIEEEEEE!"

"Good, you're awake. Now we can get on with the ceremony." I open my eyes
and see my step-father cutting an even more imposing figure than usual in a
shiny black rubber robe, the cowl casting a shadow over his strong brow but
not dimming his burning eyes one bit. The light fell on his powerful,
chiseled jaw cocked up as usual, but his seductively sadistic smile
replaced by a tight lipped grimace. Isabella was draped at his feet,
content as a kitten, completely nude...my collar was nowhere to be seen. I
had lost her completely, I couldn't even claim the lie of ownership
anymore.

My eyes darted across the room, hoping I'd see something...anything that
would give me a glimmer of hope in this abyss of despair. But all I saw
were two more hooded figures, my step-brother Dirk smiling broadly as he
licked his sensual lips, and Darius staring with a hunger I'd never see
before, his sharp features twisted into a razor-sharp smile. I tried to
place the room, a hardwood floor of dark teak, red velvet drapes surrounded
the large circular room, empty save for us. I tried to see an exit, but
everything was covered, the whole effect was dizzying and disorienting. I
couldn't place this room in my head, I could have sworn we didn't have a
room like this anywhere in the mansion...and then it hit me...I was in the
basement!

I clutched my chest instinctively, and let out a tiny yelp...I was wearing
the french maid outfit! I didn't fill it out nearly as well as in my
nightmare, but I had no doubt that I was all but unrecognizable as a
man...I looked like a petite, poorly developed young woman...or more
accurately, I looked like a sissy. No...I was a sissy, I just wasn't able
to hide it under my clothes anymore. I couldn't help but run my hands up
and down my hips, feeling the contours my corset was giving me. I was
snapped out of my reverie when I noticed my outfit was rubber too...it
struck me that whatever they planned was going to be very, very messy. I
felt my clit twitch reflexively and felt it crush painfully against cold
steel. They had caged me! I shuddered to think of what they had
planned...that's when I noticed the drain in the floor, and I started
begging, "Please, please, don't do this to me! I'm sorry...I tried being a
man, but I'm just not cut out for it...but just because I'm a sissy doesn't
mean I want to be a slave! I beg you, just let me go!"

Laughter filled the room, heavy and dark like ominous storm clouds
gathering over me. My step-father's thunderous voice finally said, "You are
in the wrong place if you are looking for mercy, and you are definitely
asking the wrong men. Mercy is for the weak. Do we look weak to you?" It
was a rhetorical question, but I still couldn't help but shake my head
dumbly. There was nothing about them that was weak, and as much as it
terrified me, I had to admit that it seemed fitting that they were in
control. But everything was happening so fast, and I could sense a dreadful
inevitability rushing towards me...one that would seal my fate forever...

"Remember, none of this was forced upon you. And from what Dale tells me,
you are quite the needy little slut. Really we're doing you a favor. Out on
your own you'd probably be scooped up my some diseased pimp, and you'd end
up turning tricks until disease and drugs ravaged your pretty looks and
you'd be left to die in a gutter. As our slave you will be well cared
for. We will make you even more beautiful than you already are, educate
you, teach you marketable skills, and most importantly we will protect you
from your own weakness." I wanted to protest, but I knew it would be
pointless. I was surrounded by men that could hurt me in ways I probably
couldn't even imagine, and I could sense both Dirk and Darius were waiting
for an excuse. But that wasn't the real reason I didn't argue with him. The
real reason was that it all sounded so terribly true.

"Of course, I don't give a single, solitary fuck about what happens to you,
but I will not allow anyone that carries my name to sully it in public. I
gave you a chance to stand at my side. I gave you the opportunity to honor
my name, to join the family business and experience true power for the
first time in your pampered life. And what did you do? You SPIT on my name!
You became a sissy's bitch, and then you tried to corrupt my youngest son,
getting him to break my rules and betray my trust. At least he used a sissy
properly, which is the only thing that spared him from sharing your
fate. But make no mistake, blood does not protect my sons any more than
your pathetic heritage stood in your way. All you had to do was prove
yourself...and I suppose you did after a fashion." As insane as it sounds,
I actually felt guilty as I listened to his tirade. His voice was so
authoritative, it left no room for disagreement. I started thinking that
maybe I did deserve to be punished. I couldn't bear to look at his accusing
eyes any longer, I felt like they were burning me on the stake, so I looked
at his feet instead. And that's when I saw the true source of my woes, and
tried one more time to plead my case...

"But, you don't understand. Isabella tricked me! She played mind games with
me, made me think she loved me to get me to lower my guard, subtly eroded
my confidence and then preyed on my indecision and inexperience. She's the
reason I'm like this! She made me a sissy!" I saw a satisfied smile curl up
on her face and I seethed with rage. Darren reached down calmly and picked
Isabella up by her throat. Even after all she'd put me through, I couldn't
stop from yelping sympathetically as my step-father held my ex-sissy up by
the neck, with her toes dangling precariously above the ground.

"Is what she saying true? Did you intentionally manipulate and corrupt my
step-son?" I held my breath waiting for her to answer, silently begging her
to deny it, praying for forgiveness for unthinkingly tossing her to the
lions. To my horror, Isabella's smile only grew wider, her face was growing
splotchy and purplish as she nodded yes. I closed my eyes, not nearly brave
enough to see what horrible fate would befall her..."That's a good gurl,
Isabella. I knew I could count on you." He gave her a kiss that looked like
it would have taken her breath away if she had any left, and then he lied
her gently at his feet. She looked at me with a heartbreaking mix of
haughty pride and the hazy lust of a submissive sissy.

"Look at you...you never had a clue did you? Of course Isabella was acting
on my orders, she wouldn't dare defy me. I told her to test your
willpower...and you failed miserably. So now, you will join the other
sissies down in the basement. Now that we have the begging and blaming out
of the way, we can get on with the ceremony. Are you ready to take the
brand of the Harrow house?" I was utterly destroyed...all of it, every
tender kiss and hard throb...it was all a game, and worse, it wasn't even
her game. I was just another chore to her. And then I saw what he meant by
a brand. I guess it's because I never got to see much of Isabella from
behind, but I never noticed the tramp stamp she had burned into her
flesh. But it was all I could see now, an ornate 'H' knotty and pulpy from
where it was seared into her soft skin just above her ass. Stark panic made
me brave enough to defy them.

"You can't do this to me! I'm rich! When my mother gets home she'll see to
you! You hardly have any money of your own! You just have your shitty name!
Well I don't want it! Not on my skin or anywhere else! I'm Byron Templeton
III. You can keep your fucking name!" I was spitting by the time I was
finished, out of breath and shaking. The speech had been almost too big for
me, it took what little courage I had found with it, leaving me hoping that
bringing up my mother's money might save me from their wrath.

"GAH HA! Listen to him, dad, he's actually proud of the name Byron. He's
named after a sissy poet and he thinks he can shit on our name! Ha! You
know, Belle, normally I don't grudge fuck you flat chested sissies, but
personality counts for a lot, and you just made it to the top of my 'to do'
list!" I cringed at every braying word of Dirk's tirade. He took a step
toward me, and I felt my asshole flinch in fear, remembering how thick he
felt pressed against me in the shower, and knowing he wouldn't be a gentle
lover. Surprisingly, Darren stopped his advance by simply lifting his hand
in the air. For a second, I allowed myself to hope that my threat had
worked. But then he spoke...  "Your vapid, pill popping mother isn't coming
home, Belle. She'll stay doped up and dreaming her life away at the asylum
for as long as I use 'her' money to pay the doctors exorbitant fees." I
realized with a sob that I hadn't worried about my mother once since she
was sent off to get treated for 'exhaustion'. I wondered if that meant I
was a terrible son or she was a terrible mother...probably a little of
both. But I was far too scared to process any guilt at that moment,
especially when my step-father continued, "Your mother named me the
executor of her affairs, so I control all of the money. Since you are
penniless now, I can do anything I want to you, that's the privilege of
power.  And if you are hoping for an inheritance to come along and save you
someday, think again. You will sign away all legal claim to your mother's
estate before I allow you the honor of joining our stable."

The tiniest glimmer of hope lit a long path ahead of me, one of suffering,
servitude, and shame, but one that ended in freedom and splendor. I
couldn't sign my rights away...it was my only hope to ever escape their
clutches..."You can't make me sign anything. Someday I'll get my share of
the inheritance and then we'll see how easy it is to keep me locked up." I
felt the strength return to my legs and I did something I never in a
million years imagined I would have done...I stood up to my
step-father. Sure, I was a little unsteady on the high heels I was
apparently locked into, but I was on my feet, tottering right over to him
and looking him square in the eye. I could swear I saw a hint of admiration
in there just before he laid me flat with backhand I could only register as
a blur, a thunderclap, and an explosion of pain that knocked me to the
ground.

"Father, I'm getting bored. Let me break her so we can get on with
this. I'll have her begging to sign in her blood withing five minutes
flat." Darius' tone was cold and dead. But his threats didn't have the
intended effect...if I surrendered, I'd be at his mercy for the rest of my
life. If I resisted, one day I would be free from his sadistic embrace, and
from what I'd seen of his handiwork, he would torture me for fun even if I
never defied him.

"Not yet. Remember, son, there are rules to this game. We go from youngest
to oldest which means Dirk gets first shot at getting our stubborn little
sissy to see the light." It says a lot about how completely fucked my
situation was that getting hate fucked by a gorilla was a relief compared
to the alternative...and that was only a temporary 'reprieve'. He made his
way over to me and opened his robe, revealing his hard, naked flesh. His
cock was even more fearsome than I had imagined it...and I had spent a lot
more time picturing it my head than I cared to admit. It was almost as long
as his father's...at least ten inches long...but much thicker...it was a
fucking bludgeon...so thick I couldn't even put my hand around it. I
realized with a whimper that I had my hand on his cock before he even
asked...

"Now I've got to be honest, I'm not a very creative guy. I leave that kind
of stuff to my older brother and my dad. But with a cock like this, who
needs imagination? So here's the deal, and its going to be the best one you
get all night. You sign the papers like a good little slave and I'll unlock
your chastity cage. If you don't, I won't even use your spit for lube." My
body didn't seem to appreciate the gravity of the situation. I was drooling
for a chance to lube his cock, wondering if I could fit him in my mouth. My
soft sex tried to grow hard, but only crushed against the unyielding bars
of its cage.

I squirmed as my body begged me to beg him to let me sign, to feel his
hands sliding over my rubber encased body, to taste him throbbing in my
throat, to have him inside me, slooooowly and gently as he pushed my boi
pussy to new limits. All I had to give him was everything...and at the
moment it sounded like a bargain.  But then I thought better of it...the
single sane sliver of my mind that hadn't been paralyzed with lust or
terror telling me I had to hold on for as long as it took. For once in my
life, I had to be strong. "I...I...I won't sign. Do your wuh wuh worst."

"Oh no, little sissy..." He pulled my head up painfully as he leaned down
into a kiss, crushing my soft lips against my teeth as sucked on my
mouth. "I'm going to do my best." He thrust his tongue inside me without
warning, it was thick and insistent, almost making me gag as it plunged
down my throat. There was nothing loving about his kiss, but there was
nothing sadistic about it either. It wasn't that he was trying to hurt me,
after all, he could have broken me into pieces with his bare hands if he
wanted to do. He just didn't care what happened to me as long as his
ravenous appetites were sated. I trembled to think what he would do to my
tender little hole if he was this rough with just his tongue. He dropped me
to the floor, panting and flushed, and I knew I wouldn't have to wait long
to find out.

I felt his thick fingers dig into the soft yielding flesh of my buttocks, I
whimpered as he effortlessly pulled me to my knees and casually flipped my
skirt up, leaving my asshole exposed and vulnerable. Despite the heart
pounding panic coursing through me, my cockette was still trying
desperately to get hard. It seemed no matter how often the metal bit into
my tender flesh, it wouldn't take the hint. I bit my lower lip and said a
silent prayer to anyone that would listen...I felt his fat cockhead press
against my rosebud, trying to force it to bloom. I felt his muscles kiss my
skin as he draped over me, whispering, "Hey, Belle, I just wanted to say
thanks for not signing the papers before I got a chance to fuck you raw."

"AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" He forced his gigantic helmet through my taut
ring, every millisecond seemed more impossible than the last. It felt like
giving birth in reverse...like being impaled on a burning log...like a fat
cock stretching out my asshole without the mercy of lube. Every cell inside
me screamed in agony. He was slowly deforming my body, stretching it past a
point the human body was ever intended to go. It was surreal...it didn't
feel like flesh...flesh doesn't burn like hot coals or cut like jagged
glass.  Every time I thought he couldn't possibly go any longer, more fresh
agony would force its way further inside me. I closed my eyes, and told
myself over and over again that it was almost over...almost over...almost
over...

"Well the head's in...that wasn't so bad, now was it?" Dirk's hand came
crashing down on my ass, sending a shock-wave of pain that reverberated
with the agony inside me, screeching a duet like some lullaby for
demons. If he noticed, he didn't make any mention of it...he just kept
driving his monster deeper inside me, devouring me from the inside with
every impossible inch. His fingers gripped my hips, pulling me back towards
him as his freight train carrying an overload cargo of heated Hell kept
rolling along. I couldn't breathe to beg him to stop, couldn't think to
consider signing my soul away to save my life, couldn't do anything but
process pain so profound it would confound a poet. And he just kept
coming...

"Fuuuuuuck...this is soooooo fucking tight! Shit...I'm not even sure you
can take my full length, but it is going to be a blast finding out." Dirk
was a true monster, and not just because of his ogre cock and gorilla
hands...he had a satyr's soul. He wasn't even trying to get me to surrender
at this point. If he was, he would have pulled out so that I could beg him
not to stick his pet lamprey back in me, or at least stop to let me catch
my breath. If he had...I don't know...but its hard to imagine willingly
agreeing to let him continue if I had the capacity for choice at the
moment. And he wasn't doing it to torture me...as inhumanly intense as it
was, he wasn't going out of his way to hurt me. Even spanking me was just a
show of ownership, and possibly even affection. He was a monster because my
living Hell wasn't even a consideration for him...it never even crossed his
mind. Once his dick was hard, he was going to find something to fuck. He
was a simple beast...the world was just a wonderful collection of holes to
him...and asking whether a hole wanted to be filled was far too
philosophical a question for him to ponder.

"Damn...all the way in. I should get a t-shirt made for you sissies that
manage to fit my full length. Something like 'I got stabbed by the Dirk and
lived to tell about it'...then again, maybe we should wait and see on that
part..." I took a deep breath to prove to myself I wasn't dead yet. He was
inside me...and I wasn't dead yet. I allowed myself to hope that maybe the
worst was over. As he pulled out slowly, he raised my hopes even further,
the pain lingered like a ghost's cock behind him, but it was ethereal,
insubstantial compared to the unreal reality of his flesh. When he was all
the way out, I let out a sigh as long as his prick, proving I could exhale
as well. I could breathe again, and that told me I had survived. And when
he shoved a fourth of his cock back into me in one thrust, and then kept
hammering away a few invasive inches at a time...I learned I could scream
again as well...

"AaaaAAaAAaAAAAAAiiiIIIIIEeeeEEeeeEEEEEE!" his cruel cock forced out what
little air I had left in a scream so large I was amazed it fit in me in the
first place. The pain had been slow and constant before, but at least it
had been predictable, getting progressively worse the more he warped my
tenderest tissue. This was like being gored by a wild boar from the
inside. Savage, unpredictable attacks that left me panicked and waiting for
the next strike, forever guessing wrong and paying with my ass.

He began to pull out, and I dared to take another breath again, then just
as reached the half way point, he changed course and slammed his weapon
inside me all the way to the hilt. "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE" a birdlike wail
flew out of me, free from the torture chamber housed inside my skin. I
envied it...I was stuck inside my treacherous flesh, cursed with a body
that seemed to feel everything a little too much...skin that surrendered to
pleasure a little too easily, and felt the sting of the inevitable
punishment even more keenly. I tried to think through the pain, but it was
like there were shards of glass cutting into my brain, making my thoughts
alien and disjointed. Things like...I wonder if Dirk will get grounded if
he fucks me to death...if I had Dirk's body, would I be fucking a sissy in
the ass right now...God, I hope they don't put 'fucked to death' on my
tombstone...is this really worth my inheritance...or maybe I'd just be a
really ugly sissy...how much does a new asshole cost, anyway...it went on
and on like that as Dirk continued pounding me at an erratic pace.

But pain is a strange beast, it can tear out your guts from the inside one
moment and began playfully nibbling the next. I don't know if its because
my asshole finally stretched wide enough to take his strange beast, or if
my blood was acting as some sort of primitive lube, or maybe my brain
finally said 'fuck it, I'm not processing this shit anymore. If you want to
get fucked by a rhino horn or whatever it is, that's your business.', but
whatever the reason, the pain lessened to the point that it felt like
pleasure compared to what came before. The adrenaline and endorphins
flooding my body probably didn't hurt either, making me feel high, doped
and wired at the same time, without a shred of shame or sanity to prevent
me from rolling my hips back onto his cock just so I could feel him slam
them back down. I giggled and grunted as I felt his freakish manhood swell
to grow impossibly thicker in response.

"Damn...who...ungh...taught you...nngh that?" A sick thrill kissed its way
up my spine sending icy-hot shivers that made me melt. Of course I hated
him, there were enough scraps of me left to remember that even as I
squeezed his cock with my aching asshole and winced through the reminder of
how bad it could hurt.,,but hating him was what made it so hot...so
forbidden...so kinky. I was a novice to surrender, but I was learning fast,
and I loved to study...especially since I had just discovered the ironic
sense of power in controlling how much pleasure he would receive. A slight
roll of the hips, a subtle squeeze, a sudden thrust backwards, all drove
him closer to the brink of oblivion, or slowed him maddeningly. Sure he,
could have held me down and pounded away at me and there would have been
nothing I could do to stop him. He could make me into a weak, whimpering
hole, but if wanted more pleasure than he could drill out of me, he would
have to let me work my magic.

"Fuck...that's it...GGRAAAGH...you earned it!" Dirk's savage roar shook the
room, traveling down his mountain of a body like an avalanche, gaining
momentum until I exploded out of his cock, practically punching me with a
torrent of his man mead. Thankfully, his scream drowned out my own, as
every muscle in my body seized up and sucked out every last drop of his
cum. Maybe it was some sort of instinctive attempt to put out the fire
still blazing in my abused ass. Maybe I was responding vicariously to his
pleasure as I always seemed to do, my body recognizing a superior animal's
right to pleasure and rejoicing that I brought it about. But most likely,
it was just the chemical waste my brain was shitting throughout my body
after suffering through the sustained brutality of Dirk's love making.

Whatever it was, if faded as soon as it came, leaving me to feel the cool
air hitting my inflamed guts as my asshole gaped lewdly. I felt
paradoxically empty and full the same time...my boi pussy ruined, maybe
forever stretched wide and hungry, while at the same time, the outline of
his cock lingered in the form of every throbbing nerve in my ass crying out
in pain. It was a dull, stabbing throb, a hurt that had faded, but refused
to leave my side...like a possessive lover wanting to hold me close as long
as he could. Still it wasn't half as bad as the throbbing ache pushing
insistently against my chastity cage, confused and betrayed that it hadn't
gotten to cum after such a rough fuck. Maybe if he had pounded my prostate
a little bit longer...but I pushed thoughts like that out of my head, not
wanting to want the man that was trying to enslave me. Instead I gathered
tiny shreds of my willpower of the floor and looking up at Dirk asked, "Do
you surrender now?"

I cringed as his hand raised high in the air, ready to strike me
down..."DIRK DANIEL HARROW! You will not lay a hand on her. You have cum,
and thus your turn is ended. Now calm down and control yourself. Let's see
if Darius fares any better." Relief turned to horror as Darius made his way
over to me. If Dirk was a monster out of carelessness, Darius was one out
of dedication. All I had to do was look at the scars on his sissy's skin
between the ink and piercings to know what kind of man he was. Every step
he took brought me one step closer to the gallows. I held my breath and
closed my eyes, stupidly acting as if it would make a difference, as if I'd
open my eyes and see anything but Darius' sadistic smile.

"Aww, look at you, you're shaking like a leaf. Don't worry, my beautiful
Belle, I'm not going to hurt you. Hurt you? Heh...you should be so
lucky..." He took my head in his hands and lifted me into a kiss, softer
than I expected, our lips merely grazing one another. I didn't know what to
do with a kiss like that. Even when Isabella was playing at being romantic,
her kisses were powerful, passionate. I kept expecting him to take
advantage of my confusion my forcing his tongue down my throat, but to my
surprise, he just kept gently pressing his lips to mine, never opening his
mouth or more importantly, mine. His fingertips stroked my cheek and I
started to squirm in his arms. He held me close, but allowed me to writhe
in perplexed frustration, never gripping me to tightly or taking advantage
of the obvious strength housed in his taut muscles. In a moment of
weakness, I found myself sucking on his lips, trying to part them with my
tongue, trying to coax out a real kiss from him, the kind that hurt. I just
wanted things to make sense again...

"Now, now, Belle, this is supposed to be torture, remember? So I can't have
you acting on those nasty little urges of yours. You will behave yourself
and meekly accept whatever I do to you or there will be consequences." His
tone was gentle, but in a practiced, artificial way that was even more
terrifying than his usual serial-killer cold affect. He held my head firmly
as he held me with his lips hovering over mine, but he didn't hurt me in
the slightest. My imagination ran wild, I was on the verge of tears just
from trying to picture what agonizing abomination he would perform if I
didn't obey. I knew that was exactly what he wanted, to twist my fear
inside me like a knife and let me torture myself, all while being gentle as
a lamb...but knowing his game and being able to prevent it from working on
me were two very different things...

"puh puh Please duh duh don't huh huh hurt me."  I immediately regretted
pleading for mercy, giving him that much more power over me. He paid no
attention to it, mercy being a concept as alien to him as fire is to a
fish. Instead, he pulled me into his lap and pulled my top down over my
shoulder, and began covering my exposed flesh with tender, teasing
kisses...my skin sizzled and I felt myself melting into his lap despite
myself. I couldn't control my body, this was everything it wanted, to be
controlled and helpless and loved...all at once. And it was too stupid to
know it was all a sick game. I rubbed my ass against his lap feeling his
impressive hardness against my soft skin, I imagined how tender he would
feel inside me...and my cage closed in around my swelling flesh, sending a
spasm of pain from my groin to my gut, where it stewed and festered. Now I
knew his plan...to kill me with kindness. "I know what you're trying to do,
Darius, and it woOoOooOOOOOHH!"

"Sorry, you trailed off there at the end. Something about this not
working?" I'm putty in his hands as he toys with erogenous zones I never
knew I had. He was rubbing slow circles around my nipples, running his
tongue along the outside of my ear and darting in and out like a thief, and
lightly nibbling on my neck, my pulse pounding so hard he could probably
taste it. By the time he peeled off my leather dress and left me naked save
for my maid's cap, stockings, and cockette cage, I was a whimpering mess. I
didn't know how long I could take it. Every sweet caress was followed by
the increasingly brutal bite of cold steel. And if I understood the fucked
up rules right, he got to play with me until he came. But he showed no sign
that he was going to fuck me...which meant I was fucked. And then things
got worse...

"NoOOoOOOOh pleeeeeeeasssssse doOOOooOOOn't!" His fingers found there way
inside my gaping hole. I wish I could say I was moaning for him to stop
because it was still sore, but the stabs of pain where a welcome respite
compared to what followed them. Darius proved himself an artist with his
fingers, manipulating my sissy spot with a skill and dexterity that would
have impressed the world's finest watchmakers or bomb defusers. He was
certainly winding me up, hitting sissy spots I didn't even know I had,
making my entire body an exposed nerve, every inch of flesh soaking up the
slightest physical contact. My own sweat trailing down my trembling flesh
like teasing fingers, his hard swimmers physique rubbing against my soft,
yielding flesh...well, more like my soft yielding flesh rubbing up against
his hard body, but same difference. My genitals stubbornly refused to yield
to its prison. I was starting to think it had more fight in it than I
did. But then I felt a familiar twinge, like a chord being struck inside
me...that bubbling bliss building to an ecstatic eruption. My body leapt on
the shred of hope like a feral dog lunging for a scrap of raw meat. And
that's what I was at that point...raw meat. Mindlessly racing towards a
goal my mind was telling me I'd never reach. Because even if I could find a
way to cum with this cage on, Darius would never have given me the
satisfaction. True to form, the moment before I exploded, he pulled back,
defusing me with expert finesse.

"You probably think I'm cruel, don't you? It's okay, you don't have to
answer, I know how you sissies whisper behind my back, how you always
scurried away to avoid me in the halls. As if I was your
step-boogeyman. But if you could see through my eyes right now, you'd know
I am the most compassionate man you've ever had the honor of meeting." As
if to 'prove' his point, he begins playing me like an instrument again, one
had on my nipples, the other inside me, and his lips raining down a barrage
of soft kiss along the nape of my neck. He composed a symphony of whimpers
and moans as he continued to string me along and hang me out to dry. The
longer he played and the more crescendos he cut off, the more the pleasure
turned to pain. It got so bad I was getting nostalgic for something as
sweet as a raw ravishment. I was willing to do almost anything for a little
relief...but not anything.

"NNH nev uh uh Never...suh uh unh surrender. Nnh nuh not to yuh yuh
yoooOOoooOOH!" Darius' plan had backfired. Sure I was so exhausted I didn't
know if I would have the strength for the next moan, sure I was dying to
taste ever last inch of him, sure his loving treatment had left me in a
state of Purgatory I'd gladly have cut off a pound of flesh to escape, but
that was his mistake. HE was the cause of it all. And all I had to do was
nothing and he couldn't win. It was a daunting task, but I had a lifetime
of practice at doing nothing, and I intended to use it to my advantage.

"Sigh...and now you're blaming me for your own stubbornness. Making me the
villain in your dime store dreadful so you don't have to face the
truth. You want to be our slave just as much as the other sissies, you just
want it forced upon you so you don't have to admit it. That's why I am the
kindest man you'll ever meet. I'm willing to play the heavy for you, to
make you do things you would never dare admit you wanted to do, things you
beg me to stop until your throat grows so hoarse you can't even
whimper. And then I'll make you do things you never even knew existed, and
I will make you love them. And yes, you will hate me for it, but that is a
price I am willing to pay." Throughout his self-deluded tirade, Darius,
continued to torment me with suffering I apparently wanted but was too
afraid to admit. Funny, I just thought I hated his living guts.

I knew I had to do something. Darius was hard, but showing no hints of an
impending orgasm. And as much as I hated him, I doubted I could withstand
his abuse as long as he could dish it out. I didn't think, if I did, I
probably would have cowered from the idea like a scared little
rabbit. Instead, I reached inside the boiling pit of bile that made up my
innards and pulled out a scathing onslaught, "Fuck you, you wimp! At least,
Dirk had the balls to fuck me. You're so afraid I'll make you cum before I
surrender that you are just fingering me like a virgin on prom night."

Darius threw me to the ground, towering over me, his voice lost it's gentle
polish and was left with the cold steely tone of a sharp knife. "I don't
know which is worse, that you would insult me like that, or that you think
I'm stupid enough to fall for it. I tried doing this the easy way. I
thought you would appreciate the creativity of my approach. But if you want
it more traditional, then so be it. I'll bring out my toys and have you
begging to be our slave inside five hours."  I was scared stupid for a
moment. All I wanted to do was hide under a rock and never come out. But
there was nowhere to hide, and Darius was reaching down for me, his hand
looming larger and larger over my face until it blotted out everything
else. Mindlessly, I blurted out, "I can make you cum in under five minutes!
I'd bet my freedom on it!" He paused, perplexed, and for a moment, I heaved
a sigh of relief...and then it hit me...I had no idea how I was going to
make him cum!

"Hmm...my way is much more certain, but what's life without a little risk?
Very well, the timer starts from the moment I stick my cock in your gaping
cunt and you have five minutes to make me cum or you sign your fortune and
freedom away?" I just sort of nodded dumbly, hoping whatever part of my
brain shit out that challenge would come up with an idea on how to win
it. But all I could think of is what it would feel like hanging in one of
those cages in the basement. I could taste the gruel already, feel the dark
close in around me...no, not the dark, Darius' arms, pulling me to my
knees, spreading me wide as his cock slid inside me without the slightest
resistance.

Minute one...I was surprised at the length and girth of Darius' cock, it
was only a little bigger than the 'runt' of the families. Sure, it was a
nice size, but nothing compared to Dirk's or his father's, and it didn't
have that comely curve that Dale's did, so he couldn't hit my sweet spot
nearly as hard. I was beginning to understand why he got so good with his
fingers...I stifled a laugh, knowing mocking his prowess wouldn't be the
best way to make him cum...

By minute two I was ready to take back everything I didn't dare say about
his endowments. He wielded his rod as masterfully as he had used his
fingers, churning up my abused ass and sending those familiar sparks of
mind melting bliss much sooner than I was prepared for. If he kept up like
this, I might actually cross that threshold I'd been denied for so long,
but all thoughts of making him cum had melted into a thick drool that ran
down my chin.

Minute three stretched out into infinity. Every eternal second an inch
closer to paradise as I crawled up from miles down in Hell...but still,
Heaven was in sight. My body knew what to do even if I did not, rolling my
hips as I thrust back onto his cock...milking his manhood with my soft,
tight muscles...using every technique I learned from getting Dirk off in a
desperate attempt to make him cum. I felt a little throb, but I knew there
was no way I'd make him cum at this rate. I could feel a leash bite into my
neck. I imagined him leering down at my bloodied body...and then it hit
me...

Minute four was a decisive moment, I didn't plan it, I would have never
been that stupid, or that brave. But something inside me knew what Darius
wanted even if the rest of me was too terrified to contemplate it. I
slammed my head into the hard oak floor, sending blood gushing from my nose
onto my plump, shiny lips. Darius paused, paralyzed with shock as I looked
back up at him, gave him a cum hither look and smiled even as the blood
dripped from my chin...and squeezed...

"NNH! Wait...NO!" Darius erupted inside me like a water balloon popping
every last drop of cum bursting out of him in a shotgun blast of sticky
seed. I cooed in frustrated satisfaction, knowing I would be denied release
that much longer, but momentarily content with my meaningless victory. To
Darius' credit, it did not take him long to regain his composure, he
covered his shame in his robes, stepping back into the shadows without a
word of reproach.

"My my...I must say I'm impressed. I half expected you would outlast,
Dirk. After all, the shock carried you through the ordeal more than
anything, and Dirk's approach has always been, shall we say, direct? But to
best Darius? That I did not expect. I'll have to reconsider my opinion of
you...slightly. For that, you deserve a small boon. You are the only one in
this room that isn't 100% certain that you will beg to be our slave. And I
suspect that deep down you know you will too. So, I could walk over there
and work my wonders, but that would be too easy. You've earned something a
little more...poetic. So I will allow Isabella to take my turn. Isabella,
you have five minutes to make her beg. If you don't...ah but why dwell on
such an ugly thought?"

My jaw dropped as Isabella slowly crawled towards me, her eyes growing
hungrier as she slowly sauntered over...but there was something else in
them too, something I wanted to believe was regret. But when she smiled and
ran her tongue slowly across her sensuous smirk, it was hard to imagine she
felt anything but pride in what she'd done to me. I steeled my defenses,
ready for any of her usual tricks. I figured she'd boss me around, fuck me
silly, maybe feed me all of the cum pooling in my asshole baby bird
style. Whatever she did, it would all be a part of the same sick game she
had played from day one. Seduce and destroy...I was wise to it, and I
wasn't going to let her push me around anymore...no matter how much I
craved it. All I had to do was last five minutes...

What I didn't expect...what I wasn't prepared for...what I had no defense
for...was for her to wrap her smirking lips around my earlobe, whispering,
"I'm so sorry, Belle. But I had no choice...I still don't. And neither do
you...at least this way, we can be together..." her voice was low, and
ragged, full of a hurt I had never heard from her before. It wasn't until I
heard the fear in her voice, the profound hopelessness, that I realized how
pointless it was to try to resist. Sure, I could last long enough to ensure
that Isabella suffered for my stubbornness, but surprisingly, the thought
of that only made me feel guilty.  And if I could, which I wasn't so sure
of, what would be the point? After they finished their little game, they
wouldn't just let me go. They had the rest of my life to make me sign
whatever they wanted to. I had already lost whatever game they wanted to
play the moment they made the rules. Four minutes were only a formality...

I took her head in my hands, my lips tingling against hers, tears streaming
down my cheeks, I begged, "Please, just give me a little longer...please
pretend with me, for just a minute..." She didn't say a word, but I saw
something soften in those hungry eyes of hers, and felt her hands pulling
me into a kiss. Our mouths wrestled as if they were trying to swallow one
another, our tongues wrapped around one another, sliding and twisting as if
trying to get a good grip. She drank down my sobs and fed me moans with her
slick little tongue. We fell to the floor, every limb frantically wrapping
around each other as out sweat slick bodies slid against each other. We
desperately clung to one another, trying to hold onto the lie for just one
more second, to pretend there was still love somewhere underneath all the
hurt and betrayal...to pretend it was there to begin with...but our time
was running out...only three minutes to go...

I knew she didn't really love me. I knew this was just another chore for
her, a way to stay in her Master's good graces. I knew that once I was down
in the basement, I would be just another annoying sissy she had to keep in
line. But that was okay, because the truth didn't matter in her arms. All
that mattered was that I could believe in the lie just a little
longer. This was the only thing I could do for her, the only way I could
ever help her. And as long as I could pretend she loved me as much as I
wanted to love her, it was worth any price. I pulled my mouth off hers
reluctantly, crying out, "Please, let me sign!" I was pretty sure I still
had two minutes, but I didn't want to risk cutting it too close.

"See boys? Never send a man to do a sissy's job. Give Belle the
papers. I'll get the branding iron ready." He made his way over to one of
the red velvet curtains and pulled an iron out of a brick oven cut into the
wall. It glowed white and it lit his cowled face with a Hellish light. I
couldn't take my eyes off it, even as Isabella handed me the papers,
stroking my hair as I laid my head in her lap, signing every page she told
me to. I moaned a sigh of relief as I heard the click of my cage freeing my
sore sissy clit. I stroked it feverishly, hoping for a little escape even
as the walls were closing in on me. My new Masters stood over me, their
arrogant pricks turning their noses up at me as they delighted in my
despair. Master Darren walked behind me firmly ordering, "Up on all fours,
Belle. I want to make this a memorable occasion for you."

I doubted I would ever be able to forget it, no matter how hard I tried,
and I buried my face in Isabella's bosom, not wanting them to see my
cowardly sobbing. I was in agony imagining how much it would hurt, but
instead of the hot hiss of the iron, I felt a much more welcome heat
sliding in my well prepared hole. Despite Dirk's earlier abuse, I was at
least well lubed with two loads of cum, and with my pathetic clit free to
throb and leak all over the hard wood floors, all I cared about was feeling
him hit my sweet spot as hard as he could. I flashed back to my room that
first day with Isabella...watching him force his cock into her eager hole,
not being able to imagine what it would feel like to be her. It turned out
my imagination was woefully lacking. His experienced thrusts made Darius
seem like an amateur, and his inexhaustible passion made Dirk look like a
two-pump-chump. I had already given up everything I ever had or ever would
have, so pretending I wasn't in love with his cock seemed like a moot
point. "Yeeeeeeeeeesssss! Fuck me! Please! Fuck me harder! I'm so
close...I'm so...EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

The hours of torture and teasing, the terror and torment, the hopelessness
and heartbreak...all of it left me in hot sticky squirts, my body finally
getting the release it had been begging for. Mindless, animal, pure,
perfect pleasure...I almost felt sorry for them...they would never know
such wonder, never feel every goosebump on their smooth skin become a
throbbing clit, never cum so hard they went to that place no one could
touch them...and stay there as long as a hard cock sawed in and out of
them, breaking down the gates of Heaven with relentless pounding so I could
sneak in. The voice of God spoke to me, sounding surprisingly like my new
Master, "That's a good gurl. You're going to be so beautiful when the
surgeons finish with you. You've had a fine head start, but wait until we
give you the body to match your slutty soul. You'll see, you'll learn to
love being a slave. Your kind always does..."

Who was I to argue with God? Especially while he was fucking me? I looked
up and saw an angel smiling down on me and I knew I'd made the right
decision. I was in Heaven...and then I felt the brand. At first I thought
they made a mistake. It was ice cold...how was it supposed to burn their
mark into my flesh? It seared my nerves on contact, making the initial heat
too powerful to process, but luckily, there was so much more pain that
followed, so I wouldn't be confused. I was cast into Hell, paying for the
only sin in my step-father's eyes...weakness. I was damned, screaming up
into the face of a succubus as she looked down at me with hollow eyes. Then
again, maybe there was something in them, I hoped I was wrong, that it was
just the pain blurring my vision...making everything go fuzzy and dark
until I fell into a void even darker and more desolate than in my
nightmare...

I was disappearing...being murdered, the last of my manhood and will burned
alive and screaming. Byron was dying, and what little mind I had left was
telling me that whenever I opened my eyes next, it would be as Belle. I
would no longer be the Young Master...

I would be the Young Sissy...