Rikki Darleen Blackwell
Martin heir to the Hastings Global Inc. fortune finds himself prepared to be married off as a feminized bride to an ultra wealthy man. During the course of his makeover into a male bride he begins to learn about his future as a male wife to a man named "The Baron."
The New Reality
The door opened slowly. Martin was escorted into the doorway and stood there wearing a white knee length terry cloth robe tied at the waist. A white towel was wrapped around the young man's freshly shampooed hair and tucked securely in back. His feet were in a pair of white flat terry cloth open toe scuffs revealing he had ten freshly polished red toenails with the spacers still between his toes. His hands were cuffed in front of him hooked to a chain around his waist as his ankles were manacled together also with a length of chain to make walking possible but somewhat difficult. Running was out of the question. His fingernails had just been done and were expertly styled in a glamour length and painted the same red as his toenails. His toenails had been done by a young girl who seemed to find her task very amusing. She had never done nails on a man before, well at least not for a real and serious occassion such as this.
Martin had just been bathed and shaved from head to toe and though he had fought with the man and woman that were holding him in his heavily sedated state. He was no challenge for them. He had felt so enraged and violated by the woman who had shaved all his pubic hair, and handled his penis and balls, moving them about as needed to accomplish her task. He felt the blade scraping across his ball leaving them hairless as a baby's butt. She performed her task as if she had every right to touch and handle him as she saw fit, despite strong slurred objections from him verbally. He felt somehow uncoordinated and weak now. The task had been completed despite his vehement objections.
Martin stood in the doorway and couldn't help but take note of the chair in the middle of the room. It was a styling chair with chrome arms and stand, and the cushions were all a shiny leather-like material and a vivid pink color. A very pretty custom chair. The back of the chair was heart shaped, and almost too Barbie to be real, and much too pretty for a young man to sit in. But that's where the innocence ended.
Martin pulled back against the grip of the two that were escorting him as they nudged him into the room. The chair was a mass of hanging black leather straps not much bigger than belts. They hung silently, but were intimidating and scary, waiting for Martin to be seated so he could be securely affixed to the chair and the straps could serve the function for which they were intended. Allowing these people to do as they pleased with Martin without any interference from him.
A woman stood beside the chair with a lavender cape draped over her arm. Her other hand resting on the back of the chair, as she patiently waited for Martin to be seated.
"Good morning Martin. I hope your morning has not been too difficult? I see you are ready to have your hair done." She stepped away from the chair, "So if you would please just have a seat in the styling chair I'll get you strapped in and we can get started," the woman said with a gesture of her hand.
"What kind of chair is that? What's it for?" Martin said looking at the straps hanging from the chair. He resisted their efforts as he was pushed closer to it.
"It's a styling chair, I'm going to do your hair, so please have a seat."
"No!" Martin said as he pushed back against the men who were now forcing him forward to the chair. Martin began to twist and try to pull his arms away from them, but he was forcibly led toward the menacing looking styling chair. Martin twisted suddenly breaking free of the grips two men had on him and pushed himself to the floor.
"STOP IT," he screamed at them. "What is wrong with you people?" He struggled with the two handlers, as the stylist stood patiently and unemotional waiting for him to be placed in the chair so she could begin a beauty process on him that would normally be reserved for women.
Martin was pulled to his feet and once again. He looked over his shoulder at the chair as he was roughly turned so his back was to the chair. They attempted to seat him in the chair once again only to have Martin kick at the chair trying to push himself away from it.
"NO!! LET GO OF ME!!!" he yelled while twisting and freeing himself from their grip. Martin tried to run to the door only to have the 18" chain between his ankles cause him to trip and fall to the floor again. This time the handlers pinned him face down and secured his ankles together.
"OWWW! You're hurting me damn it," he groaned. Martin lay face down, while his ankles were pulled together and tied with a short length of rope. The rope was purposely pulled extremely tight to make a point of who was in charge and to limit his movements.
"OWWW....That's too tight," he screamed out. "Don't do this to me," Martin pleaded, as fear creeped in and tears welled up in his eyes They rolled Martin over on the floor and sat him up into a seated position. Turning him so his back was to the chair now, the two attendants took hold of Martin's arms and his legs.
"Damn it...... STOP!! Don't you dare put me in that chair," he yelled as he was now lifted off the floor and seated in the chair. His waist and chest were tightly strapped immediately, his arms were then released and secured to the arms of the chair. The chain then removed from his waist. He looked to the woman waiting to attend him. A cape over her arm as she continued to wait patiently as if he was just a woman in for her afternoon hair appointment settling into the seat. She made eye contact with him but showed no emotions or sympathy at all for his ordeal.
"WHAT DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND? I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS!!" he yelled again.
"It'll be ok Martin. No one is going to hurt you. Please just try and relax," the woman said softly, gently patting him on the shoulder.
"Let Me Go!" Martin yelled out as the rope and then his manacles on his ankles were taken off. His legs were spread wide to the side of the chair and each ankle fastened to the foot rest. A strap at the seat secured him just above the knees. Martin jerked at his bonds unable to get any movement.
"Martin," the woman said calmly.
"Please let me go," his voice trailed off as the final straps were pulled tight in effect now securing Martin's body to the chair and his destiny, "Why are you doing this to me?"
"Martin. Please calm down and get hold of yourself," the woman said walking in front of the chair to face him. "I have a lot of work to do, so please just try and compose yourself. I know this is difficult, but try and relax," she said.
"I don't understand what's happening. Why are you doing all this to me?" he pleaded and shook his head violently.
"Martin," she said softly again trying to settle him down as he struggled against the restraints.
"Just let me go," he said as he twisted even more in vain.
"Aren't you comfortable?" the woman asked as she flung out the styling cape and wrapped around his neck.
"No I'm not comfortable you stupid bitch. Do I look comfortable to you?"
She pumped the foot pump and the chair was now raised to a height that the woman could work on Martin's hair more easily. She looked in the mirror at Martin and smiled.
"Hello Martin, my name is Leanne, and I will be in charge of getting you ready for your wedding," she said spinning the chair around very quickly. Martin was strapped in very tight and sat perfectly erect as the chair spun around three times and was stopped abruptly. It was just to show him she was in control.
"What are you going to do to me?" he asked staring at her in the mirror now realizing how helpless he was to stop whatever plans she had for him. He was now coming round. The seditive was wearing off.
"Well first, I'm going to get your hair set and get you under the dryer. So we need to put you in curlers," she said taking the towel away from his head.
"Why?" he said watching her prepare things. He saw her take a wire brush curler in her hand from the tray and show it to him, "Don't you put those things in my hair like I'm some kind of fag," he said jerking his head about as she tried to comb his wet hair.
"You don't seem very happy right now Martin. What's wrong?" she asked looking as if she cared about his answer.
"What's wrong? What's wrong? Are you serious lady? I've been kidnapped and I'm being held against my will. Look at me, I've been physically violated and shaved. Look what you perverts did. You sedated me and then painted my nails red," he raged spreading his fingers so she could see the long red nails he was wearing. "You don't see anything wrong with this? Especially since I said NO!" his voice cracking with anger.
"I'm sorry you weren't consulted Martin. Are you not happy with the color of the nail polish that I selected for you? I actually like that particular shade of red. I think your toes and fingernails look very pretty. Britney did a beautiful job with your manicure and pedicure," she said as she went back to combing his hair.
"It's not the color you bimbo," Martin's aggravation growing as he gained more of his mental faculties now, "It's the fact that my nails are painted in the first place. Men don't wear red nail polish in case you weren't unaware." Martin became so tongue tied in his frustrations he couldn't argue his point intelligently. He looked away and waited a moment as he regained some of his composure.
Leanne reached over and took a jar of the counter. It was setting gel. She combed it generously through his damp hair.
"Why are you doing this to me? What did I do to you?" he asked watching while she pulled a tray full of different color curlers next to the chair.
"What did you do to me? Oh Martin, you didn't do anything to me. It's your wedding day. You are getting married and I'm here to prepare you for the ceremony."
"I'm not getting married, I told you people that earlier. You have got the wrong man obviously. Why are you trying to humiliate me like this?"
"Humiliate you? Oh there's nothing humiliating about getting your hair set and styled Martin. It should be an enjoyable experience for you," she said taking a roller from the tray. "Being pampered and fussed over by women doing your hair and nails to make you look so handsome, while you just sit back and just relax allowing them to work their magic on you. Any woman would be jealous of you right now."
"Handsome? Don't you dare put those things in my hair," he said looking at them out of the corner of his eye.
Leanne laughed.
"But I have to put you in curlers Martin, it's the only way to curl your hair, and we do want lots of curls in your hai as well as some flowers and ribbons for this afternoon don't we?" she said now finishing the combing in of the setting gel.
"No we don't. You can stop all this nonsense right now. I'm not doing this."
"Oh yes you are," she said as she pulled up a strand of hair and picked up a brush roller to begin Martin's hair set. He jerked his head and the strand fell free from her fingers.
"I'm going to need a little help in here," Leanne said walking to the door and asking a large female attendant come in for a moment. She approached Martin and grabbed the hair just at the back of Martin's neck and then secured a fist full of hair with her other hand. She pulled and gripped him tight holding his head still.
"OWW!" he grunted as his hair was pulled.
"I don't want curlers in my hair. Damn you. Let go of me."
His hair was pulled and twisted even tighter by the female attendant.
"Oww! You're hurting me," he snarled as his hair was being pulled to keep him cooperative.
As Martin watched in the mirror, Leanne pulled up a strand of hair with the comb and he tried once again to prevent the curler from being placed in his hair. A quick pull of his hair on each side of his head above his ears by the attendant made him squeal out once again. It was hopeless.
"OOWWW! OK. I'll be still just stop pulling my hair. You beast."
Leanne nodded to the woman and he felt her grip loosen on his hair and the she stepped away from the chai wiping her hands with a towelr. She moved back and stood by the wall watching in case her services were needed again.
Leanne combed his hair again and put the first curler in Martin's hair. He pulled at his restraints as the second curler was rolled into his hair. Though he was sitting still for her, he still had so much pent up anger inside him. The brush type rollers Leanne was using reminded Martin of the curlers his grandmother and aunts used to wear in their hair in the evenings to bed, or to the grocery store draped by a flowered head scarf, as if the scarf made for a better appearance while in public than seeing the curlers. It was was just too demoralizing for him to see himself now being forced into wearing the same curler look on his head as they did.
"I can't deal with this Leanne."
"You're doing fine Martin. I will have your hair set in curlers momentarily. Just be patient, then I will get you under the dryer," Leanne said.
"Men don't do this you crazy bitch. I don't want my hair put in curlers. Stop tormenting me. I'm a man not a woman damn it," he growled as the curlers kept being rolled in his hair one after the other at a swift steady pace.
"I know you're a man Martin. I never said you weren't."
"Then why? This is disgusting," he said and then watched as his head filled with hair curlers. "Why are you treating me like I'm a woman? I don't like this."
"I'm not treating you like a woman Martin. You are getting married today. Your hair needs to be done first," Leanne smiled and stopped for a moment.
"Curlers? Nails painted? That's not perverted in your eyes?"
"I know you haven't been filled in on all the details of your marriage." Leanne said laying down the comb and giving Martin her full attention now.
"I guess that's not unusual in an arranged marriage. They always seem to wait till the very last minute to inform the soon to be spouse. The one who might be inclined to panic and become distressed at the idea of having the decision of marriage being arranged by family and then having a life long obligation placed on them, and then having to honor that decision. Less time to think about it and fret over the small things and the inevitable."
"What things? Like being forced to marry to a complete stranger? Hell yeah I'm upset. Who wouldn't be upset. What if I don't like this woman? Ever think of that? Of course you didn't. What does she look like, and why couldn't she get a husband on her own? What kind of woman wants a man with painted nails?"
"Woman? Oh no, no Martin. You will not be marrying a woman. You are being married to another man. Actually you are going to be the new male bride of Baron Vargos."
"Male bride?" Martin was stunned at her statement.
"That's right Martin. I'm going to do your hair up in a elegant updo with curls and bows. We'll get your face made up pretty. That will include lipstick and pretty eyelashes. Then you'll be dressed in your wedding dress and a pair of high heels."
"HELL NO! You think I'm going to just sit here and let you dress me up like a woman and marry a man? Is that what this is all about? I absolutely refuse to marry a man," he said as he watched the final curlers go in the back of his hair at the neck. His frustrations grew from the fact he couldn't move and the fact she just kept doing as she pleased with him and he couldn't stop them.
"Oh Martin, the Baron is a very fine catch. Do you realize how many women have been vying for his attentions for past year," she said with a giggle. "And now you have captured his heart, and you two are going to be married this afternoon."
"NO! That can't be. Listen, I'M NOT GAY!" he yelled out. "You can't do this to me without my consent, and I say no way. I will not consent to this." The security woman who stood by the wall, had a smirk on her face as she watched with some amusement the gradual forced transformation of this reluctant young male bride to be.
"Your consent? Consent was given by your family. It's an arranged marriage Martin. This has been arranged by the two families. It is a perfectly legal, though I grant you it is a bit unusual for a man or even a woman of your age to be having a marriage arranged for them."
"My family would never have agreed to this type of thing. Arranged marriages are for women anyway, men don't get placed in arranged marriages. You're lying."
"Well that's a bit sexist isn't it Martin? OK for the girls but not the guys? I'm afraid you are wrong. You are to be wed today in a same sex ceremony Martin. These arranged marriages are not very common I grant you, especially same sex marriages which are very rare indeed. In fact this is only the second one I've ever heard of, but they are as legal and as binding as any other marriage."
"I am not a woman. I don't appreciate being treated like this."
"Oh, I know you're not a woman Martin. We are not trying to make you feel like a woman here, but we are preparing and dressing you as a bride for your husband, which is what you are, a bride. Men can be brides too Martin."
"You're crazy lady. I can't do that. I don't want to be dressed like a girl."
"Understand, it's not up to you Martin. Having you dressed in women's attire and being powdered, painted and perfumed is your husband's desire, and that's why we are doing this."
"I don't care what he wants. I'm the one being violated and humiliated here. What about my feelings? I've never met this man. What gives him the right to degrade my masculinity like this?"
"Please Martin, you are over reacting sir."
"OVER REACTING? Look at me. I didn't consent to being made to look like a fool."
"Your husband will be the one who makes such decisions for you from now on. The unfortunate thing about some arranged marriages is that often the bride not only marries an unwanted husband but also loses her right to self determination and expression."
"This is insane."
"I'm sorry Martin, but you will have to persuade your husband to change his mind if you don't want to wear women's clothes. I'm just doing as I'm instructed. In the mean time though, you will be dressed as a bride and wear a beautiful wedding dress today for the ceremony. I will have it brought in on a dress stand and have it placed in front of you so you can admire it while you are under the dryer," she said.
"Don't force me to do this Leanne. For god's sakes I'm not a fag. Get someone else, I'm sure there are plenty of perverts out there that are just like you guys that would love to do this, but I'm not one of them. Pick someone else."
"The Baron picked you."
Leanne said nothing else but looked at Martin in the mirror as she unsnapped the cape and removed it. Martin noticed a grin that broke out on the face of the female attendant who was standing next to the wall watching.
"What are you smiling at bitch? Enjoying the view you pervert? Something turning you on here? Need to go rub your pussy against some guys leg for awhile?" he sneered at her. She never changed her expression and continued to watch.
Leanne brought the hair dryer and pulled the elastic band around Martin's curlers so the soft bonnet with the bright blue floral designs covered his head. There was a three foot length of hose that hooked to the main unit. Leanne switched it on high heat and adjusted the bonnet slightly. The bonnet inflated into a nice mushroom shape on his head, and there Martin sat humiliated with his hair in curlers now being dried under a dryer.
Leanne smiled as she dismissed the attendants.
"That will be all for now. Thank you. We'll be fine while his hair is drying." She then directed her attention to Martin.
"I'll be right back," she said as she stepped out of the room.
Even though Leanne had told Martin what was happening and why it was happening, he couldn't comprehend it. He knew about arranged marriages. They were not common, but then not considered controversial in any way either. It was an accepted custom and was still law. Young women were sometimes placed in marriages that the families had arranged. Most of the time bettering the woman's social standing along with her families. The young women weren't always happy about it, and some even resisted or refused. They were all married just the same, but Martin had figured that they adjusted with time to their new social and private lives with their husbands so he had no problems with that.
He had never heard of a man being forced into such a marriage with a woman nor had he ever heard of someone being forced into a gay arranged marriage situation. Especially when one of the people wasn't even gay in nature. It just didn't make sense to him.
The door opened and Leanne and another young girl about 18 years old entered pushing a dress makers stand that was fitted with a beautiful white wedding dress. It had an extension above the dress that held the vail.
The dress was knee length with tiers of horizontal lace and ruffles about the skirt. The top of the dress was strapless, leaving the wearer with elegantly bared shoulders. The bodice was beaded with many rows of white beads and bows.
It was wheeled in and placed directly in front of Martin. The young girl unable to control a sudden burst of laughter at seeing the man sitting strapped in the chair with his nails painted red and hair rollers under the dryer. She covered her mouth with her hand as she continued to laugh as she looked away. It would have been considered rude to laugh at Martin without covering ones mouth. Laughter was frowned upon, but the Baron had made exceptions in this case. It had to be made because a man dressing as a woman to be married was so uncommon, it did instill different spontaneous reactions in people. Especially the women.
"Take it out of here. I'm not dressing up in that," he hissed as he looked at it.
"Oh yes you are Martin. This is your wedding dress. Isn't it just beautiful?" Leanne said walking in the door as the girl giggled even more knowing that this guy was going to be dressed fully as a woman here in just a short while.
"No please, take it away, I don't want to look at it," he said looking at Leanne now.
"I'll be back in a little bit and check to see if your hair is dry. I'll give you some time alone with your thoughts. Try and relax now Martin."
"NO! I refuse to go along with this. I'm a man. Let me go," he yelled at them as they left the room.
"I'm not gay," he shouted at the closed door now. He looked at the dress his fingers gripping the chair arms tightly. His eyelids dropped as he looked at his red painted toenails. "They can't make me be gay, they just can't."
"Oh my god, I don't want to do this," he said softly now to nobody tugging futilely at his restraints again.
"I don't want to be a bride." Martin sat quietly resigned now to the fact he couldn't get out of the chair. He hung his head now as he waited for the dryer to dry his hair so Leanne could create feminine curls and build a beautiful bride's updo to on his head that she had promised to do.
"LET ME GO!" Martin yelled one last time into the empty room. The door opened slowly and a pretty young woman looked inside.
"Missy?" he said. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked as he fidgeted in the chair trying to cover himself in some way from his embarrassing situation, but unable too move. His legs were strapped to the chair his knees spread apart.
"Get me loose Missy."
"Hi Martin. I heard you call out. She sounded angry. Are you OK?" She had a huge grin on her face as she looked him over for the first time since they had started processing him for the wedding. "Just checking in to see how you were doing." she then giggled.
"I should have known. You're part of this aren't you. Is this some kind of practical joke, because it's not funny. I'm not a bride and you know it. Let me go," he said as he jerked hard against the restraints one more time in frustration.
Missy walked into the room. She was a "socialite deluxe" you might say, but Martin saw her as the phony and the gold digger she really was. A social status climber looking for a life of luxury and wealth using her looks and willingness to sexually humiliate herself to achieve both of those goals.
Missy had always wore her hair in a teased high bouffant, and teased and sprayed big in curls and it was kept platinum blonde at all times. Not a single hair was ever out of place on this woman. She always seemed as if she had just stepped out of a beauty salon and she was always attractively made up, though he felt the false eyelashes she wore and bright red lipsticks were a little much in public for a girl her age.
Today Missy was wearing designer jeans and red 5" spike heels. She wore a white peasant blouse that was unbuttoned low to reveal her ample, "store bought" cleavage. Her nails were beautifully manicured a bright, bright red and were rather long. Martin didn't find nails that long very attractive on women. It was a gaudy look in his opinion, someone just try to attract attention, and he wondered how she could even think that they looked attractive at all. She looked around as she strutted her way into the room smiling. Then she casually walked over to Martin. She bent over and began to loosen the tie around his waist on the robe he was wearing.
"What are you doing Missy?" Martin said. He panicked when she opened the robe revealing his naked shaved body. She lay the robe open and ran her fingers up his inner thigh and stopping just short of his balls. Martin jumped as she lifted his penis with two fingers.
"Stop it Missy," he snarled at her. "Stop touching me and cover me up." She smiled as she inspected the shave job done on his pubic hair. She ran her fingers over the newly shaved area above his penis and then his balls.
"Stop doing that damn it."
"Nice close shave Martin. Very smooth, and very appropriate I guess." She gave his penis a quick shake and lay the large but limp phallus over on his leg.
"What do you want?" he snarled at her, "and cover me up."
Martin hated Missy with such a passion, and with good cause. Missy was Martin's stepmother. She was also two years younger than him. Martin had just turned twenty seven and Missy was now twenty five years old. Hell, they had gone to the same high school together and even shared a class at one point.
She was twenty years old when she had married his father, who was a shipping tycoon, and she moved into Martin's life. She had always carried herself as if she was someone of social significance, but she wasn't. Even talking to Martin and treating him as if he was really her son and his father didn't seem to have a problem with that. Martin never would participate in her little social games and detested her for her arrogance. He also held her responsible for his two marriages failing. He had always felt she was the one who talked his dad into forcing him into the annulments of his previous two marriages, but they were both recorded as divorces so the women could receive alimony payments.
Martin was very conscious of being naked now that she had opened his robe. He was both irritated and humiliated at the grin on her face.
"What is her part in all this?" his mind thought. He had never been naked in Missy's presence before, much less with the added humiliation of having his body shaved and his nails polished red. He felt extremely embarrassed having to sit strapped in this chair helpless like this in front of her and she was not offering to help release him.
She grinned as she admired him and said, "Pretty toenails Martin. Nice nail polish too," she said looking down at his feet having to keep her smile from breaking into a grin. "You know, I've always said you were a real man's man, and now it looks like you're actually going to be a man's man." She giggled as she walked over to the wedding dress that was on the stand.
"What's going on here Missy?" he hissed. "Why am I really here? What are you up to now? I don't buy this marriage crap. You'd better not be filming this as some prank of yours. I will not say I agree to this just so you and your friends can laugh watching video of me saying I was willing to marry a man. Forget it. Come over here and undo these straps. Let me go. The joke is over."
"Martin.....sweetie, I am here for your wedding of course. I was contacted and asked if I'd fly here and give away the bride on your dads behalf, God rest his soul. You know how supportive I am of you and your lifestyle choices," she said as she lifted the skirt of the wedding dress and admired it.
"I'm not a bride damn it. This not a lifestyle choice of mine." He now could see her pushing him to admit something.
"This is such a beautiful dress Martin, I mean it really is stunning honey," she smiled and turned to look at him. "I can't believe you're going to actually wear this dress down the aisle today in front of those people," she looked back at him and then giggled at the thought.
"I'm not wearing it," he growled, breathing heavy now and feeling warm because of the hair dryer.
"Oh Martin calm down, I'm sure the dress will look just lovely on you sweetheart," she laughed as she turned to face him again. Missy picked up one of the 6" white high heels that was sitting next to the dress on the floor. She held it up and turned to face Martin.
"Oh my sweetie. Look at these high heels. I can't wait to see how gracefully you manage these down the aisle." She looked at the shoe again.
"I'm not wearing any of it Missy. I am not going to let them humiliate me by dressing me up like a woman, and parade me down the aisle to be laughed at for some prank wedding. This wedding thing is all bullshit. I'm done with this. Get me out of here. Unstrap me damn it," he growled. "Let my arms loose."
She looked at her nails. Taking some advantage of the situation at hand, and having to always put up with Martin's sexist attitude crap in the past, she was tired of him disrespecting her and trying to tell her what she should do. He should respect her wishes since she was his stepmother after all and he was the stepson.
"Martin honey, how many times have I asked you to call me mother? Hmmm?" She lifted her eyes to look at him, with a look that indicated she was in the driver seat of this conversation now.
"Are you serious? You're not my mother, for Christ sakes your two years younger than me. Why would I call you mother?" he spat out trying to twist himself in the chair now to somehow get free. "I'll call you a bitch if you like.That would be more appropriate."
"Call me mother. I would like that Martin. I would like it very much. It would give our mother/son relationship much more warmth and meaning," she ran her finger across his cheek. "Your father agreed with me on this you know. He felt you should address me as your mother also. He told you so himself."
"WHAT? Are you that dilusional? My dad suggested to me once that you would like to be called mother. I said hell no. And you and I don't have a relationship Missy. None at all. You are a crazy messed up bitch!" His anger and frustration pouring out of him now, pulling at the arm restraints. "What are you getting out of all this? Is this all about degrading me? Saying I'm to marry a man, having me call you mother, and then trying to dress me like a girl? You're filming this aren't you. Wanting me to agree with this and humiliate myself so you can catch it on film and use it to somehow exploit me with your bimbo friends. Wait till I get out of here you bitch."
"Well........" Missy said with a deep sigh leaning over to close Martin's robe, "I can see you are just way too emotional right now for us to have a little talk. Would you like me to leave your robe open or closed?" she asked looking at him and smiling at her control.
"Closed," he snapped at her.
"Of course you do," she said as she opened the robe and left Martin's penis and shaved pubes fully exposed. "I was hoping my son would agree with me. I'd do anything for my son Martin. I imagine preparing for your wedding day and all, you are very preoccupied right now in anticipation of it all. I'll come back in a little bit. I'll give you a few minutes to settle down honey. Maybe after they have put the dress on you we can have that mother/son talk." She walked out the door, her ass making those jeans work for her.
"Wait! Missy........cover me up," Martin called to her but she didn't turn around. "MISSY!"
Martin was stunned. Had she gone mad too? Did she seriously think this was all real? She was involved and he knew it. He was so angry she had caught him in such a compromised way. Naked and defenseless, not to mention he was wearing red nail polish. He felt like she had just appraised his situation, checked him over really good, gave it some thought, given her approval and just left him there. Martin's thoughts were interrupted suddenly.
"How you doing hon? Hanging in there ok?" A small middle aged woman walked in.
"What are you going to do to me?" Martin asked watching her move things around.
"Leanne is running a little late so I'm going to check your hair to see if you're dry yet." She glanced down and saw his limp penis exposed. She looked away without any reaction, concentrating her gaze on the task at hand ignoring Martin's exposed male genital.
"Excuse me,...I....First of all, could you please cover me? I feel very uncomfortable sitting here like this. I'm naked for Christ sakes." Martin was surprised at the woman's level of indifference to his exposed body as she ignored him.
"Hold still sir while I get this bonnet off your head," she said stretching the elastic band and pulling it off the curlers. She let him sit for a moment as she put the bonnet down. She put her palms on curlers and held them firmly for a moment.
"What the hell is going on here? This can't be happening to me," he said softly and turning his head again.
"Please hold still sir," she said again turning his head back so she could continue checking his hair.
She took the roller at the top front of his head and unrolled it allowing the hair to snap back into place. She then removed another roller at the the bottom back of his head and allowed it to also coil itself back. She took a spray bottle with a light setting lotion in it and gently misted his entire head again.
"What the hell are you doing," Martin complained as his head was moved all around while she misted his hair. She then put the front roller back in his hair and did the back one next. Martin pulled his head away as she got ready to put the dryer back on his head.
"Hey," he winced as she firmly pulled his head back gripping the rollers. "Will you stop that. I don't need my hair rolled," he looked back at her. "Look I don't want my hair curled, so stop what you're doing. I want to get out of here. Get somebody in here to let me go."
"That's enough sir. You can take your issues up with someone else. I'm here to make your hair is drying properly and the curls are firmly set. You need a little more time under the dryer so just hold still while I get this dryer bonnet back on your head."
Martin sat quietly, fuming with frustration, as his entire head had been set in tight straight rows of brush rollers like some older woman in for her weekly shampoo and set at the local beauty salon. She patted the rollers with her palms. Straight rows of pink pins were the first thing Martin noticed when he saw himself in the mirror. His hair all pulled up tight on curlers.
"I look like some kind of faggot," he said to himself looking at his image in the mirror.
"OK sir hold it right there." She then slipped the hood back over his head and turned the dryer back on high. The flowered dryer bonnet puffed up again. "There you go young man. It won't take much longer."
"Oh thank you so much. I can't wait," Martin said in a mocking falsetto voice at her.
"Your welcome sir," she said patting his shoulder as if he was being genuine and leaving the room.
"Bitch," Martin said under his breath as she closed the door.
The sound of the dryer drown out most of Martin's hearing. After about ten minutes he didn't hear her enter, but he recognized those red high heels that approached the chair. Missy was back.
Missy sat in a chair next to Martin.
"Missy, Please, what is this all about? Is this some kind of wild 'got cha' thing? If it is please stop it now. Get me out of here," he said trying to convince her to help him, and trying to convince himself now that this was and elaborate charade being played on him.
She crossed her legs slowly. "Martin, honey please, call me mother. And I can't do anything right now to change any of this," she said reaching for his robe.
"There...That's better," she said pulling his robe over his penis to help calm him. "Besides Martin, you will be married soon, why are you so eager to get out of this room. The groom is not suppose to see you before the ceremony anyway," she spoke as a matter of fact. "Don't you know anything about marriage traditions?"
"Who is this guy Missy? There just can't be a wedding like this, it isn't possible. There just can't be." He shook his head still in disbelief, still feeling he was being watched.
"You will see him at the ceremony sweetheart. When he lifts your veil you will be able to see him all you like," she smiled rubbing his inner thigh to calm and comfort him.
"Damn it Missy, stop talking like that. I'm not gay, and you know it. Tell them that."
"I know you're not gay Martin. You're as straight a man as I've ever known," she said softly, rubbing higher on his thigh.
"If you say this is not a joke, then why is this all happening to me? Why doesn't he find some other gay man who would like all this done to them? Why me?" he hissed.
"I guess there is no law that says you have to be a gay man to get married to another man. It's not a requirement." She chuckled slightly with her eyes down. "You'll get used to the lifestyle after awhile I suppose. I figure it will take longer for you to get accustomed to people staring at you dressed in women's clothes in public than it will the actual sexual aspects of the marriage. At least that will be kept private in your bedroom," she said looking down at his red toenails.
"Sex?....What do you mean sex..." He shook his head. Sex had not even crossed his mind. The thought of him being taken by this guy filled him with a new reality. "Missy, Oh no. I'm not doing that. You expect me to have sex with this guy? I'm a guy and I like girls," he spat out.
"Guys do it with other guys all the time Martin," she said calmly. "I know you like girls, I suspect that is going to be a little bit of a touchy situation for you in he future."
"Not me...no way I'm allowing that man to have sex with me," he hissed giving some resistance to Missy. "You can't just put a dress on me call me his wife and expect me to allow him to fuck me."
"Martin, honey... I'm sorry but you must settle down and listen to me now." She adjusted herself and faced him seriously.
"This is not some kind of joke. It's all real honey." She took his hand in hers and rubbed her thumb on one of his red fingernails as she looked at them and continued, "Once the wedding ceremony is over, the marriage will be sealed. You will be a legally married couple in the eyes of the law, and this man will be your lawfully wedded husband. I'm sure he is going to want to have sex with his new spouse Martin, and I'm afraid that spouse is you." She lowered her eyes before proceeding, "It will be his right as your husband to have sex with you. The consummation of the marriage will take place in the bedroom, and as of the wedding vows, he will be free to exercise those rights and you will be participating with him dressed in some kind of sexy women's lingerie I would assume and will start living life as a male bride who likes to dress in women's clothes. I know it's all confusing and all of a sudden honey. I still am stunned by it myself. Do you understand what I'm saying?" she said in a sympathetic voice.Tears ran down Martin's face. Tears of frustration and a restrained type of demoralized rage.
"Damn it Missy...." he hissed.
"Mother honey, call me Mother," she interrupted.
"You're not my mother Missy. You're my stepmother, only by law," he said with anger.
"Call me mother Martin. I would appreciate that very much. I would do anything for my son if there was anything I could do," she said with a knowing look.
Martin stared off for a moment not looking at her. "Mother....do something about this. This can't be real. Are they really going to go through with this?" he asked her as she lifted his chin again. She gave him a very sympathetic look and a warm smile.
"I'm afraid so Martin. It's not up to me, I can't stop it. The fact you're restrained as you are tells me they mean to go through with it. I can be here when they dress you for your wedding. They would like me to. I understand it's traditional for the mother of the bride and the bridesmaids to all witness the dressing of the bride. After that I'll only be able to see you occasionally, at least for a while" she said quietly.
"I'm sorry Mis....mother, I can't get a grasp on this. I can't believe it's real. It's all so surreal," he said shaking his head. "This just doesn't happen in the real world."
"I'm sorry Martin, but it's real honey."
"Please undo these straps so I can get out of here," he said turning to her. She ran her nails gently down his back and touched the wrist strap that held him to the chair.
"Please mother, undo the straps." He watched as she touched the buckles on his wrist tugged gently at the end of the strap sticking out the end of the buckle. All she had to do was open the buckles. She placed both hands on the buckle as if she were about to unbuckle his wrist, then she slowly patted his hand and removed her hands.
"I'm sorry Martin. It would not work right now. Even if I did unbuckle all the straps for you and let you out of that chair, where would you go? You don't know this place or anyone around here." she said softly. "They would just bring you back honey."
"I'll take my chances."
In walked Leanne. She was accompanied by the two attendants.
"It's time to begin preparing the bride for his wedding day," Leanne said walking into the room.
"Stop, just stop this," he said feeling completely controlled as his head was bent forward by Leanne. Missy stood to leave the room.
"Miss........Mother. Don't leave me here like this," he called to her as she readied herself to walk out the room."Don't let them do this to me. Tell them I'm not gay." She left without turning around.
Leanne was working the elastice band of the hood off Martin's head.
"There is some kind of mistake. Let me out of this chair."
"I can't do that Martin. We are going to style your hair and put your makeup on now," Leanne said removing the dryer then taking out one of his rollers and letting the hair coil itself back to his head. It snapped firmly back to his head.
"YOU CAN'T FORCE ME TO GET MARRIED TO A MAN!!! THIS IS CRAZY," he yelled at Leanne.
"Now, Martin." Leanne calmly stopped what she was doing to address Martin."You will listen carefully to me now. I do have some prior experience in this type of thing. I have done another mans gay marriage similar to this before."
"But I'm not a gay man!"
"That's enough. This is an arranged marriage. Your family has agreed to this marriage. They seem to think this a fitting situation for you and have signed affidavits to that effect. That part is done."
"But I don't want to marry a man."
"The other male bride was just as adamant as you about not getting married to his new arranged husband. This chair was designed for these type situations. He was strapped in this very same chair you are in right now." Leanne looked at Martin firmly and then softened her look.
"Listen Martin, I know it's a bit scary having such a sudden and drastic change in your life. It is the best way, I assure you. Less time to think about it and in your case agonize over it all. You're going to be just fine."
"No I'm not."
Leanne continued talking as she removed the curlers from his hair.
"You know, one of the male brides I did has been married for two years. He lives his daily life dressing in women's apparel, and is publicly accepted for what he is, which is, a "feminized man." I seriously doubt the public will ever think you are really a woman. That is not my intent, as you are not a woman, nor do we ever wish you to be mistaken for a woman. Passing totally as a woman in public probably won't ever happen for you, but you will be in a same sex, gay marriage, which will make your feminine appearance at least somewhat socially acceptable to most people. With the Baron's stature, wealth and clout in the community, the rest of the people will at least pretend accept you."
"Oh my god, I can't live like that," he said shaking his head.
She steadied his head again with a firm grip of hai in both hands one on each side of his head and a quick jerk. It caused a sharp pain and Martin grimaced with a low groan. She pushed his head forward and started removing the the curlers from the back of his head as she calmly continued.
"You will take The Baron's last name legally and be referred to as his Mrs. and then later receive the title Lady Vargos in a large ceremony after the consummation period of your marriage is over. That will take three days and then you will be presented to the public. Now I don't expect full cooperation from you at this point, that's what the restraints are for, but please at least try and resign yourself to letting me do what I am going to do." She put a cape around his neck.
"Martin. We are going to do your makeup first. We can do this with as little discomfort as you like.
"You can't make me do this, you know," he hissed at her.
"Martin. I'm the one that shaved your balls, remember?"
He didn't really remember as it was all a hazey, groggy memory. He ad been heavily sedated for that part. "Painting your face will be easy," she said pulling up the cosmetic tray.
Martin watched as they prepared the makeup they were going to use on him. They checked a few lipsticks and decided on the brighter red. Martin saw the false eyelashes false and said "No Way!" as he once again tested his bonds, only able to move his head. He realized she was right and he was about to have all that makeup put on his face and he was helpless to stop it. A woman poked her head in the door.
"Leanne, The Baron would like a quick consultation with you. And Martin, your mother wants 20 minutes with you before we continue, so we will be back," Leanne said patting the top of his curlered head. They left the room and Missy entered.
"Hi honey" she said entering the room and closing and locking the door behind her. "You feeling any better?" she asked, as she walked sexily to the counter.
"What do you think Missy? I'm having control of my life stripped away from me. What do you want out of all this?" he grumbled watching her suspiciously. "Come to get a few more laughs before the main event?" he sneered trying to see what she was doing behind him.
"First of all, I want you to call me mother if you want any assistance from me in the future. Got that," she said pointing her finger at him in a scolding manner. "My son should show his mothher some respect."
"Missy, I'm older than you and it's weird calling a girl younger than me MOTHER. OK, you married my dad, so what. Why would I want to call you mother?" he said glaring at her.
"Well let's see," she said putting her finger to her lips as if studying his situation. "You are a young man sitting here strapped naked in a heart shaped styling chair with your hair curled and your nails are painted ...... RED! Duh! And you are about to get married, "for happily ever after" to a man you've never met, who will probably spend tonight hiding his very large male pride where the sun never shines on you, and I'm the only person you have to discuss it with," she smiled, "So...What do you say Martin? Who am I?"
"Mother," he said softly.
"Oh thank you sweetheart. That makes me feel very special," she said kissing him on the cheek.
"You've lost your mind," Martin thought to himself but said nothing.
"Now honey, your mother wants to do something very special for her son now before he gets married, that is if you'll let me."
"What are you up to?" he asked looking at the items she had.
"Martin, starting today you are going to be given weekly injections in your ball sacs to keep you from having erections.....what I mean to say is you are going to have a limp dick from now on when your husband is in town, unless of course your husband changes his mind. Your dick is going to just hang there NOT as a testament of your manhood but rather as a confirmation piece that you are not really a woman."
"Wait! He can't just do that to me." He pulled at the straps. "Let me go," he said his face red with anger. Things just kept getting worse it seemed.
"I'm sorry Martin, he can. It's my understanding that's the way your husband wants it." She looked at him thoughtfully. "He doesn't want you to be able to have erections when he is around. So you won't. He has the right to make that decision for you, and to do so without discussing it with you."
"Who the hell does he think he is telling me I can't have a hardon? That's too much Missy. This dress up game has got to end now," Martin yelled.
"He will be be your husband Martin, that's who he is, and if he says no erections for you, then that's how it will be," she said.
"If you wish to have one last orgasm though, with a girl, before it's too late...... well, I'll help you with it." She looked at him raising an eyebrow.
"What?" He looked surprised.
"I'll give you a handjob Martin. Kind of a last fling with a pretty girl." She smiled a little blush in her cheeks. "Do you want to feel that wonderful sensation of your semen rising up from your balls and out the end of your dick one last time? Of course you do." She gave him a sexy wink.
"Missy..." he started as she held a finger up and stopped him ."Mother, I'm not exchanging my desires for girls for this guy," he hissed.
"I'm sure your not but it's not your desires that count hear apparently. So I'm afraid you are Martin. At least sexually you are. You may not sexually desire him, but you will still have sex with him and satisfy his desires. You won't need a hardon for that either."
"Stop saying that."
"I'm very sorry about that honey. Listen baby, mother is willing to jerk you off though, if you would like me to do that for you. After you are married you won't be able to have erections anymore. Your husband will be the only one having the erections from now on." She looked at him waving a 10" vibrating dildo as if to entice him......."Well?"
"What are you planning to do with that?" he looked at her suspiciously.
"It's just a vibrator Martin. Don't worry I'm not going to bend you over and give you a prenup or anything like that."
"Since you are feeling so generous today mother dear, why don't you just get on your knees and suck my dick and swallow it all like a real woman? I think one last blowjob is much more appropriate," he said in a sarcastic way.
"Sorry Martin," she said with a smirk on her face. "No blowjobs honey. I will glad to give you a handjob if you want me to. That's it," she grinned tapping the dildo on her cheek waiting for him to answer.
No man in his right mind would pass up this offer from a woman like Missy. She was a beautiful, sexy young woman and her straight forward approach was very exciting.
"Yeah....do it," he said looking away as if a little perturbed at the way she had approached it all it.
She smiled looking him in the eye as she put on a pair of rubber gloves and took his penis in her hand and lifted it so his balls were exposed.She started a slow massage a first of his limp penis.
"Do you have to wear rubber gloves?" Martin said watching her.
"Yes dear, I'll be wearing gloves to do this. Don't let yourself be distracted honey just close your eyes and enjoy the feeling and you won't even notice the gloves," she said looking at his balls as if deciding how she wanted to start.
The gloves made it so impersonal somehow. She took the vibrator and turned it on high. The buzz of the vibrating phallus filled the room. Lightly touching the undersides of his balls with the vibrating dildo, she rolled his penis slowly in her hand. Martin moaned as he began to become erect very quickly. The pill she had given him earlier was a Viagra and was working better than expected.
"Does that feel good honey? This is my personnal vibrator, it's the one I use all the time." The words she spoke caused an erotic vision in his mind. He pictured her in bed with this dildo inserted fully in her pussy, riding it in and out as she reached orgasm, and now she was sharing that same vibrator with him. "I'm vibrator fixated you know. Only way to have an orgasm these days, but also the most mind exploding method too," she said softlay as if reflecting on it herself. This talk was somehow very erotic to Martin and he didn't no why. Pretty girl talking dirt maybe, he sighed and took a deep breath.
She continued to fondle him in delicious ways as his penis grew more and more erect. He looked at her pretty face as she gazed at his erection and fondled him as if it meant as much to her as it did him. She seemed very happy with his erection now. He was well endowed young man. She slid her hand up his erection and let go allowing it stand hard and erect on its own. The head was protruding prominently oozing and turning purple. Missy could double fist Martin's erection and the head would still clear her hands easily. She then opened a condom took it out and smiled. She slid a condom over the end of his penis.
"What's that for?" he said in a heavy breath.
"Just hush sweetheart. Your only job here right now is to ejaculate and fill the condom with your semen."
Missy stood in front of Martin and unbuttoned her blouse and removed it exposing her large breast and erect ringed nipples. She then squirted out a generous helping of lubricant into her gloved hand.
"The jerking is about to start sweetie. You ready?" She looked into his eyes smiling dreamily and began to stroke his erection. The squishy sounds of the lubricant and Martin's heavy breathing filled the room. He moaned as he felt uncontrolled pleasure running through his loins.
"Oh yeah baby.......Oh sweetheart..... Doesn't this feel sooo.....good honey?" she asked stroking him at steady fast pace.
"Yes," he exhaled.
"You like having your dick masturbated by a pretty girl like this don't you honey," she said sexily.
"Yes......." he moaned.
"You like having your dick masturbated by a pretty girl don't you honey. I want to ask you something. Do you like my titties?" she said putting her lips to his ear, never losing the rhythm.
"Yes......" he gasped barely getting it out.
"You don't think they are too big?" she said as she held his head firmly with her free hand and stuck her tongue in his ear and aggressively explored it. "I told your father before my last boob job it was a bit much, but he insisted."
"Uhhh......." Martin squeaked as she started exploring his ear with her tongue. His legs tightened up as his pelvis leaned into her steady stroking. His red painted toes curled under as his body strained against his bonds. His legs began to tremble.
"That's it sweetie. Cum for me baby. I want you to have a huge orgasm like a real man would," she cooed in his ear. She held Martin's head firmly and then she kissed Martin very deeply and passionately on the lips as his orgasm began to take control of him.
"MMPPFFFFF," he moaned against her lips as her tongue entered his mouth. Martin began to violently ejaculate into the condom on what was to be his last orgasm. She kept jerking him as his orgasm continued. She released her kiss.
"Oh baby, that's it. Cum some more for mother," she said in a passionate voice. "Oh that's it."
"OH YES," he yelled as he pumped what was to be his last load of semen into the condom. Then his body went limp in his bonds. His breathing very heavy. Missy smiled as she watched him sigh with deep satisfaction.
"OH my Martin. That was really quite a display of manhood. I think I may have creamed my jeans doing it. How was it sweetheart?" she asked standing up straight looking down at him.
"Oh god that was great," he said looking at this new found treasure.
"Of course it was," she said as if any other answer would be a lie. She took the condom off his shrinking penis, and then the gloves off her hands. "That's the kind of things I to do for my male friends, and I'm good at it," she looked at his crotch and smiled.
"Damn Martin, you really do have a big dick you know," she said smiling and admiring it for a moment. She ran her finger down his chest as she spoke. "Too bad it's going to be kept all limp and just hanging under a dress," she said in baby talk. "You know Martin, if we had known each other sooner......and of course your father hadn't been so damn rich, we might of had some good times together," she said as she stood to leave. "I'm sure you and I would have had sex at least once."
"That's it? You're leaving?" he looked at her in disbelief as if he was a bit confused.
"Yes Martin, that's it. You have to get ready for the ceremony now. What did you expect honey? I'm glad you enjoyed it. It was a one time only, me jerking you off. I told you that before we started. Nothing personal." She looked at him like she was a bit confused at his reaction to it all.
"Nothing personal? What was that all about then? Mental torture?" Martin was furious. "You'd do that to me and just leave me here like nothing happened?"
"I'm sorry Martin. I'm happy if it was a very special and intimate moment for you, but it wasn't anything special for me. Just a simple semen extraction." Missy looked at him and gave a sly smile. "It was just a hand job Martin."
"Undo these straps. Let me go Missy. Right now!" he hissed at her.
"My, my, it seems you are still struggling with addressing me as mother. The girls will be in to finish you up for the ceremony," she sighed. "I'm sorry Martin. The wedding will proceed as planned. There is nothing else I can do for you at this time sweetheart," she said lowering her eyes and walking quickly out of the room, her hips swaying seductively in those jeans, as she exaggerated her walk for him to enjoy, but he felt mockery in her sexy movements. She stopped at the door and looked back at Martin. She smiled and gave him a wink as she dropped the condom with his spent semen and the gloves in the trash can, then she left the room as if she had just finished a chore around the house and was just discarding the dirty items.
"SLUT!" Martin yelled at her as she left the room.
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