Part 1 of this story ended with you shivering and exposed under my scrutiny, awaiting assesment for full surgical sissification.
We left off with me pulling at your underwear, exposing you and then pushing the material right up tight against your cock so you could get your kicks from the pressure of the fabric, get you off with a square of cotton. You’re so easy to get wet. All I have to do is press your boy panties onto your hard-on with the tiniest firmness, and you’re moaning and panting like a college virgin.
“Clothes off. Everything off. Quickly, boy. Not just thrown over the chair like that, *fold* them.” You scurry to neaten up and then I lift your chin up with my satin-gloved hands, “Have some respect for yourself. Show me that you think you’re worth my attention,” I say smugly, since we both know that you aren’t really. I like you like this, naked, nervous, in my hands.
But we have a lot of work to do to get you ready for the assfucking I’m going to give you. I only fuck pretty girls. lucky for you there’s not a lot of hair on you or else somebody would need a full-body shave. So we’d better get you dressed up, hadn’t we.
My closet is as big as a banquet hall. Dresses on hangers bulge out wall-to-wall of silk, lace, tulle, leather, velvet, brocade, and all the luxurious fabrics from the exquisite hidden corners of the world. A princess would sweat with envy. A vast library of high-heeled shoes dominates the opposite wall, from tiny satin pumps to generously sized PVC thigh-highs. I wonder which ones you’ll get to choose. A gleaming makeup station shimmers with powders, creams and tinctures, and a neat row of wigs on mannequins runs above the vanity mirror.
You kneel naked and shy-boyish at the entrance, and I nudge you forward with the tip of my leather boot. You crawl to the middle of this decadent lounge, up to the transformation platform.
“Put your feet on the markers. Hands through the loops. Good boy. What we’re about to do will feel a touch prickly, maybe a little pinchy, but I think you’ll like it in the end.” I press a button and metal restraints slide over your wrists and ankles, so you’re standing up straight with your arms and legs spread wide, no movement allowed. All at once, several sharp mechanical arms descend on your butt, chest, and face. They inject, implant, and remove bits and pieces at furious speed. Then you are sewn up and spray-tanned.
After what seems like a flash, the whole ordeal is over, and you are left clean, polished, and absolutely feminine. Your cock still dangles between your thighs, but now those thighs are shapely, curved, dainty. Only then do you notice a pair of beautiful breasts floating on your chest, the nipples soft pink and perky. You lick your lips with lust for yourself, and find them to be plump and firm. You blink in disbelief, and your lids are heavy with long natural lashes. Looking straight ahead, a full-length mirror shows what you have become. A girl. A hot, horny slut with a cock, pure and perfect, begging to be fucked.
I’m standing next to the mirror, taking pleasure in watching you meeting yourself. “Are you cold, Alice?” I purr.
“Pardon, Mistress?” You choke on your words when you hear your voice. How did it get so suddenly high? How long were you out under those machines? Such an extreme transformation must have taken a long time. Or maybe this is who you’ve been all along. Alice the girly cum slut, built for one purpose: taking cock.
“I said,” I breathe languidly, “Are you cold? Do you need some clothes to cover you up?”
“Ohhh yes please, Mistress, please dress me.”
I press a button, the restraints slide away, and you are free. You walk on your new, slender legs, your hard dick swaying with your strides, somehow not out of place.
A panel slides open and a clothes rack of underwear spills out. You stand in awe as I run my finger along the impressive selection of lace, leather, and latex, of full bloomers, teeny weeny thongs, crotchless teasing ones, frilly gartered ones, sensible ones, pink, black, red, purest white….. which one will suit my Alice? My gloved finger stops on a black latex bra and panties, designed to look like lace around the edges. I chose it not only because I love rubber, but because there is a delightful hole placed just so that your butt will be fully accessible to me when the time comes. Because this whole thing is for my benefit, making you fit to fuck.
I pull the bra around your body and it holds your breasts so nicely, that gorgeous cleavage so tempting and teasing. Next the underwear, which miraculously holds your cock in place while exposing the little slit of your bum. It’s rather fetching actually. And shiny.
I pull you by the wrist over to the dress rack, bypassing the ballgowns, the flimsy frocks, and over to the clubwear. You are getting excited about this, feeling the rubber slide over your perfect flesh, restricting but moveable, like a second skin. I have the perfect dress. Pastel pink rubber, short as short can be, very fitted and revealing on top, and a little bit flared on the bottom so you can twirl sweetly. You’ll look like the girliest slut in town. Arms through the front, I zip you up the back and it sucks everything in. I can’t even tell you have a dick unless I graze my nails over that place and feel it jump. You wiggle over to the shoe gallery and pick out the most whoreish stiletto boots you can get your greedy hands on. Black leather that hugs your legs all the way up, with a long up the back.
Now you’re dressed like a very good girl. This is how you’ve always meant to look.
“You’re very sexy, Alice. You’d better be careful looking like that, someone might want to take advantage.”
“yes Mistress,” you say meekly.
As we walk you over to the makeup table, you trip over your heels and fall over on your face on the carpet. It’s difficult not to laugh while I watch you struggle to get up. Wriggling on the ground like that, you’re quite irresistable. I place one knee on your back to pin you down to the ground, and flip your dress up. Your bum is so cute I can’t resist giving it a slap, and a few more to make you squeak. It’s blushing a little. You raise your hips, inviting me in again, begging for my pinky to nudge into your hole, but I don’t fuck ladyboys who have no make up on. Don’t worry, my vanity chair has straps to hold you down while I do my work on you. Lube up little whore, the more you look like a girl, the less say you’ll have in matters of my desire. Is your hole ready?