The Ultimate Sissy Slut Training: Part 3 of 4

This is a fantasy of a man undergoing complete physical transformation, dressing up, and slut training. You go on a journey where you take cock, eat cum, and get double fisted. Enjoy.

Part 2 trailed off with a good dose of sweet humiliation and invasive, penetrating surgery to transform you into what the slut always craved to be.

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The sweat is trickling down your body, the closeness of rubber and the anticipation of a good fucking are a heady cocktail. I peel the latex up so that your bottom is fully exposed, the little slit in your panties winking up at me, inviting my fingers to come have a dip. You’re a tempting lay, and if I didn’t have higher standards I would gladly plunge into you until you engulfed my hand up past the wrist. I must stay on track with the task at hand. You might look pretty but you’re far off from convincing anyone. So with a light smack on your bum, I cover you up again with your itty bitty dress.

Crawl to me, wiggle those hips when you move towards the makeup chair, give me your best kitty cat impression. You are here for my amusement, let’s not forget. Every move you make is to please Me. you are my little doll; your tits, your arse, your mouth, everything you are belongs to me. Make me proud, slut.

You clamber up onto the chair and allow me to fasten your wrists, ankles, and neck into place with leather restraints. You seem to think that if you go with the flow of my games, I will be easy on you later. Not likely. You are strapped firmly into the chair, and I bend down and open up a little hatch in the seat, positioned exactly where your asshole is. Your dress has pulled up since you’re sitting down, and that gap in your panties gives me perfect access to your little hole. I graze it lightly with my fingernail and you sigh, and the muscle twitches.

I consider my options. The lube is in the next room, and I want to fill you up now, not later. I stand up to face you. “Open that mouth,” I snap, “open up that wet gob.” I push my fingers past your lips and slide over your tongue, getting them good and soaked with your spit. You suck them greedily, desperately, like they are your boyfriend’s cock when he knows you’ve been out getting fucked by anyone with half a hard on and you want to stay in his good books. Silly whore. I slap your face hard and smear your own saliva over your face. I lift your face up delicately, and then spit forcefully in your open mouth. It dribbles down your chin. No fun in making you pretty if I can’t mess you up a little first.

In a drawer at the dresser there is a neat row of silicone buttplugs, lovingly arranged in size. I hover over them, deciding whether I want to give you an easy start or a painful challenge. I end up in the middle, picking out a plug with a very flared base that narrows sharply at the end. Perfect for holding it in place.

“Open that slut hole again. This can’t very well go in dry, can it?”

“uh-uh” you say, because that’s all you can manage with your mouth hanging open like that.

I push it into your mouth, gagging you with the size and girth of the rubber plug. Good pig, take it all. Get it dripping wet for me, get all that spit all over it. I pop it out again, and it’s shining, lubed up for your hole. You are panting with exertion, excitement, and embarrassment. I crouch down to the gap in the chair, and carefully nudge the nose into your brown flower. it gives easily. “Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” I muse, pushing the plug further into your ass, which is expanding with impressive speed.

“Mistress, I did some exercises before…” you pause to moan as your ass engulfs the entire toy, and it closes in on the tight end, “before I came to see You.”

“What a diligent slut you are, getting all primped and fluffed for me.” I give the plug another little push, just to hear you squeal.

Now you really are ready. I swivel your chair round to the makeup mirror, and place a metal restraint pad on each side of your head, so you won’t move in any irritating ways. Perfect, and still.

First, moisturizer, to keep you young darling. Then I brush an even layer of foundation over your whole face to even you out, because nobody’s perfect. Some natural toned eyeshadow for those peepers, contoured and shaded with my soft brushes, and a line of luscious false lashes to really make everything pop. Let’s get those new lips lined with a deep pink liner, and fill it in with a silky lipstick, and go over with a high-shine gloss. A little blush, a dash of bronzer, and a dusting of translucent powder over everything to set the look. You’re gorgeous and nearly ready to fuck.

But something is still odd, apart from your twitching, dribbling cock. Ah yes, the hair. The dyke look really doesn’t suit you, sweetheart. What shall we make you? A raven-haired beauty? A fiery redhead? A cheeky brunette? A fun blonde? Or something wild and punked out? I think I’m in the mood for a blonde to push around. Now the cut is important, because it’s got to flatter your jaw line and make you as passable as possible, despite your recent surgery. I scan the shelf above the mirror, and my eye lands on a mid length piece with soft curls and a sideswept fringe.

As I place this wig on you, Alice comes to life in front of my eyes. You smile shyly as I arrange the curls on your shoulders, a lock straying over your breast.

Tiny diamond studs in your ears, little stars for my beauty.

Restraints and cuffs come off, and it’s time for your debut. Can you walk nicely with that plug between your rosy cheeks? Hmm, a little awkward but you will receive the finest and strictest training from me. The mirror shows you your new, completely transformed self. You touch yourself in awe, your lovely body and perfect face.

“Come on Miss Alice, I’d like to show you off now.”

We walk out of the transformation chamber, down a narrow hall, and through a large heavy door, and into complete darkness.

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