By Priscilla Bouffant
Chapter I: Master Darian and Mistress Amira
I’d been getting so much better at applying my Cosmetic application. I’d become very thrilled concerning my abilities to do my own hair as well. So a compliment from Amira as to my newly developed talents was very, very, exciting.
“You look so very nice this morning Kassima. Excellent job on your cosmetic application and hair design today,” the sultry, female voice from behind me cooed.
“You’ll be graduating from the Michael Vincent Academy of Beauty one day, darling. We’ll all be so very, very proud of you. I know your Mummy Nina is very excited dear. And I have a job vacancy for a Cosmetologist at my main salon and spa, just waiting for you, Princess,” Amira Bashar promised.
I looked into my vanity mirror, full well knowing it was my Lover’s gorgeously, fashionable sister Amira, who was complimenting me. My lover, Darian, a Saudi Oil Tycoon, was off playing golf, since 5 AM that Saturday morning. He and his sister Amira were both of Saudi-Arabian descent. I’d began living with them over the past fifteen-months.
My mother and father had divorced when I was about 12. Mummy had returned to the workplace when she had determined I could become a “Turn-Key” kid. It had angered my father, who wanted a subservient, stay-at-home, “Stepford” trophy wife. Mummy was having none of that.
She had an MBA and had no trouble at all becoming a Hospital Chain Administrator, making yet more money than my father. Eventually he began to “Play House” with his secretary and moved from Southern California to Honolulu. My mother couldn’t have cared less.
It only meant that she could add “Family Desertion” to both Mental and Emotional Abuse, as well as Infidelity in her divorce case. She managed to get it all, including the house, automobiles, half the monetary assets and a huge alimony and child support settlement. My father eventually got a better job, which only upped his monetary payments to Mummy.
When I would tell her how amazed I was with all she received in court, she’d say, “Now don’t forget, Casey. You father did get his Whore.”
Mummy had ridden a motorcycle in college, during good weather to save on gas, and because as a liberated female, it gave her a feeling of true “Freedom” on the roadways. Thru a junior exec at the hospital where she was an administrator, she found out about this Motorcycle Club, called the “High Rollers” that consisted of well-heeled Motorcycle enthusiasts that Rode, mostly on weekends.
They were all very well off, and drove high-dollar bikes and even owned a nice piece of lakefront property, including a lodge where they could party. Mummy immediately purchased a really stylish Honda and applied for membership. Her app was approved almost instantly.
These people were not “Bikers” so to speak, but Upper Class business people with an interest in Motorcycling. Thru the club, she met a guy named William, who became her boyfriend. It was thru William, that I would meet both Master Darian and Mistress Amira.
I’d told Mummy, I didn’t want to attend college immediately after high school. I preferred at least a full “Gap Year” prior to going back to school. I didn’t know what I wanted to do, so Mummy suggested I start my own pool cleaning business.
She had fired our Pool Maintenance company and I’d began caring for our pool and did a “Fantastic Job” she’d said. I began caring for her boyfriend, William’s pool and he liked my work. He recommended me to his associate and friend, Darian, to care for his pool.
It was a bright, sunny summer’s day, on a Sunday, and I was cleaning Darian’s pool, mixing the chemicals, testing the water and changing filters when Darian suggested I wear swim trunks the next time I cleaned his pool.
“I’ll bet you have a really nice, lithe body that would look sensational with a tan, Casey. You told me you enjoy skateboarding and bicycling. That builds really nice lower body muscles. You probably have truly delightful looking hips and shapely legs,” Darian noted.
He was a very well-muscled male. Very likely 6 feet 2 inches tall, and probably weighed in at 185 pounds. In a swimsuit he looked awesomely manly. I’d never considered myself Gay, Bi-Sexual and absolutely never a Sissy. I’d dated girls in high school and even enjoyed sex with them.
It was just that I never, ever cared to be the aggressor and liked girls that were very forward and forceful, sexually. For whatever the reason, and it was very likely Darian alluding to my “Delightful and Shapely” legs and hips, I wore a tight swimsuit on the next occasion when I cleaned Darian’s pool.
Darian was obviously far stronger than me. He was at least 4 inches taller, outweighed me by an easy 50 pounds and was easily more advanced in upper body strength. As I walked around the pool. Doing my duties I could feel his eyes boring thru me.
“Why did I do this? Why am I showing my body off for this man simply based on a suggestion he made?” I thought to myself.
Then Darian said, in a commanding tone of voice, “Come over here to the chaise-lounge next to mine, Casey. You are going to damage your nice, soft skin in this sunlight. Allow me to oil your body with this lotion. Amira took care of me prior to attending a brunch with some possible, Lady investors.”
Amira as well as Darian came from inherited wealth, and possessed fabulous Trust Funds. Darian was now an executive with an oil company. Amira on the other hand, a stylish and fashionable, well-educated lady, was investing in Boutique’s, Hair Salons and Beauty Spas where the owners were into the retirement phase.
After purchasing the properties, she modernized the locations and created truly Chi-Chi settings, where the well-off female clientele could enjoy the fabulously, ultra-feminine, beauty and fashion experience which Amira provided.
Darian had me lay face down on the expensive and very comfortable Chaise-Lounger. His strong hands began to massage the lotion onto my back and shoulders. I’d smelled his manly aroma when he’d knelt down next to me. The flowery, girly scent of the lotion he was applying to me, was certainly not what his sister Amira had used on him that morning.
It was when he started to massage the lotion into my thighs, hips, butt and calves that I became aroused. I don’t know what it was that caused it. Could it have been the strength of his manly hands and arms? Or what about the calm assertive tone in his voice when he told me how “Firm and Taut” my “Cute” butt was? Or how “Nicely Shaped” my “Sexy” legs were?
I wanted to tell him to stop, until he rolled me over onto my side and he gripped my penis thru the material of the swim trucks, saying, “Ah, yes. I thought so Cassie. I thought you might enjoy the touch of a manly male?”
Before I could tell him that my name was Casey and not Cassie, he took hold of my cheeks with his well-oiled hands and kissed me firmly upon my mouth. His kiss was long and sensuous, and next, he wrapped his arms around my slender waist.
We separated from the kiss momentarily and he added, “You are going to be so pretty, my very, sexy, girly Cassie.”
It was then as he kissed me again that he pulled down my swim trunks to my knees and gripped my cock firmly with his well-lubed fingers. As much as I wanted to pull away, I instead hugged him to my body with my arms around his broad shoulders.
Once again Darian broke away from the kiss and stood up. He took off his swim suit to expose his dangling boner. Then he pulled mine off and said, “I want you to suck me Cassie.”
“Please don’t call me Cassie? I’m not a girl. My name is Casey,” I asked.
He then slapped my face sharply, with his right hand, bringing tears to my eyes, and frightening me into subservience.
“You are not a boy either. You are a Sissy-Femme. Casey is a boy’s name. Cassie is your new Sissy name. When Amira and I transform you into a passable girl, we’ll give you a far more feminine name. Now blow me, you Effeminate, Sissy, Faggot, Bitch. On your knees, now. You may call me Daddy,” Darian demanded.
“Yes Daddy. I’ve really never sucked a cock, Daddy,” I said, taking his penis into my hands.
“Play with my balls. Lick my cock and testicles. Take my rod into your mouth and lick and suck it. I wish you were wearing a few coats of lipstick. I enjoy my Sissies wearing lipstick when they blow me,” Darian added.
“Now get my cock nice and dripping wet. With plenty of your mouth dribble on my penis, along with lots of jelly lube on my cock, as well as in your anus, I plan on fucking you very soon, Cassie. Don’t fear. My cock is averaged size at best,” Darian promised as I took his penis into my mouth, practically up to his testicles, and began slurping. At least he wouldn’t be ejaculating into my mouth. Though I could already taste the salty pre-cum.
I sucked away obediently until Darian said, “You’ve done quite well my darling, Sissy Femme. Now lay on your back upon that exceptionally comfortable chaise lounge, so that I can lubricate us both, and then I’ll screw you.”
“Please, let’s not Sir, I mean Daddy. Please, it might hurt me. I’m not Gay, you know? I’ve never done anything like this,” I mewled.
“You just sucked my cock, Little Miss Sweet Lips. And don’t concern yourself with what’s Gay and what isn’t Gay. If you hesitate any longer, I’ll drag you into my bedroom by your long, blonde hair, tie you up, and I’ll whip your ass with a belt,” Darian threatened.
“And then I’ll still fuck you. Now get that sweet ass up on that Lounger and spread those gorgeous legs. I cannot wait to see those legs in some sheer hose with you wearing some tall, spiked heels,” Darian quipped.
“Yes Daddy. Like this?” I quivered.
“Not bad. Hold still so I can oil up that tight Virgin ass of yours,” Darian said, kneeling in front of me and squirting lube onto his fingers. He then used the lube, to lubricate my anal opening.
After applying some KY Jelly to his cock, he raised the back of the lounger so that I was seated in it as if it were an easy chair. Then he took hold of my legs and lifted them into the air, exposing my asshole. This made me have to hold very tightly to the sides of the lounger.
Pushing me back against the upright portion of the lounger he knelt on the front portion of the seat and ordered me to wrap my legs around his waist. Then he slid me towards him and pushed his cock against my anal entryway. I winced and whinnied.
“There, there now, Little Miss Cassie. Breathe nice and deeply. Inhale and exhale as the head of my penis goes in an out of your Girly, Sweet, Sissy-Ass-Pussy. The head is in and now I’ll slide it, in and out and push a little harder and my cock will move further inward, towards your Sissy Love Button,” Darian spoke calmly as I shed a few Sissified tears.
“Now as you grip the sides of the Lounger, help me out by sliding your ass towards me and then back a little. You see? In and out and then there! I’m all the way in. Now we can really enjoy Fucking, can’t we Princess?” Darian asked, as I screamed, when his cock pushed completely into my asshole.
“Once we have you wearing a vaginal dilator in your rectum on a more or less 24/7 basis, you’ll always be ready to Fuck Daddy whenever he desires his sexy, blond bitch,” Darian laughed.
I should add that during this time, shortly after my 18th birthday, my sun-lightened hair was a sandy blonde and shoulder length. To keep from angering Darian I moved my ass in a rhythm with his penis. Once his penis began to contact my prostate, I started to let out little sighs, murmurs and coos.
Shamefully enough I began to enjoy what he was doing to me as he buggered me silly. I was fortunate that it was a warm day. Because, besides the lubricant, the moistness of Darian’s cock from me sucking it, and the sweat exuding from and dripping into my anus from my body, all added up to helping Darian’s penis slide somewhat more easily in and out of my ass.
Finally, the inevitable occurred. Darian’s cock swelled, expanded, spasmed and lastly, ejaculated warm, sticky, gooey semen into my anus. It was a feeling I’ll never forgot. In fact, from conversations I have engaged in with other Sissies, it is a very emotionally charged moment in the life of every Sissy, that no Sissy could possibly ever fail to recall.
The shivering chills were otherworldly. The sensations were conflicting, complicated, as well as confusing. As shameful and humiliating as my mental state became, as my very own penis climaxed in direct response, a feeling of peacefulness and fulfillment cocooned me. Though tears seeped from my eyes, I experienced a brief moment of completeness.
The sound of Darian’s manly voice awoke me from my reverie.
“Very nicely done my lovely Sissy. No more swim trunks and flip-flops for you, my girl. When you clean my pool and wait on me, from here on, you’ll wear a two-piece Bikini, high-heels and a Japanese Geisha’s Kimono,” Darian announced.
It was then my shame returned and I said, “I’m getting dressed and I’m going home.”
“I don’t know what you’ll wear or how you’ll start your car? You see, just prior to fucking you, I locked your car key’s, your wallet and your cell-phone in my safe. Your clothing is still sopping wet, from me soaking everything in the Utility Room sink. So put on the two piece Bikini, the stiletto heels and the Kimono, and learn to look, walk and act like a girl,” Darian ordered me.
Just then I heard a female voice ask, “So is this your new girlfriend that you were telling me about, my dear brother? Hmm? She is pretty. I see numerous possibilities, all very good.”
“Yes. Amira this is Cassie. How did the investors luncheon turn out?” Darian asked.
“Fabulous. I’ll fill you in later. Why don’t we get started on feminizing Cassie?” Amira asked.
“What? Are you two crazy? Nobody is feminizing me. Now let me go home,” I insisted, my voice cracking with fear.
“If you know what’s good for you Girly-Boy, you need to put on that string bikini, the Kimono and high heels, and come with me so we can make your skin, pretty, smooth, soft and hairless. I know how my brother likes his girlfriends to look,” Amira smiled.
“No way. Now give me my stuff, damn it!” I demanded, my voice cracking girlishly.
“Darian, she needs a whipping and then some. I’m afraid we must do this the hard way. What a bad girl, she is,” Amira said, shaking her head.
Darian was taller and stronger then me, very easily. Amira surprised me. She was as tall as me. Though plump and bosomy, she was more full-figured but hardly fat. She had a firm, solid, shapely, womanly body.
Amira, even though wearing heels, grabbed me around my waist as Darian took me from behind and lifted my torso. As Darian lifted me, Amira took hold of my legs. Then they moved on me together. They picked me up and carried me as if I were on a stretcher, into a bedroom. They flipped me onto the bed, still naked, and went to work.
Amira tied my ankles with some scarves. Darian had flipped me over making me lay face down. He then tied my hands behind my back. It was then, that Amira sat on my back and straddled me.
“Do you want me to gag her?” Amira asked as I began to whimper.
“No. I want to hear this little Sissy bitch scream and cry as I whip her ass, with my belt. Cassie darling, this will be worse than any over the knee spanking with one of Amira’s hairbrushes, but hardly as bad as a Bastinado where I’ll whip the soles of your feet with a rattan cane,” Darian explained.
“I am going to give you six stripes with this belt on your ass cheeks. Then six more on your pretty thighs. Three on each side. You will count each stripping out loud. After you count, you must say, “Thank you very much Daddy for correcting me and for making me a much better girlfriend for you,” Darian ordered.
“If you miss a count, or fail to thank me, I will add one more stripe each time. Now tell Daddy that you understand,” Darian said.
“Yes Daddy. I understand. But please Daddy, don’t hurt me? I promise to be a good girl and behave from now on,” I blubbered, scared out of my wits.
“It’s far too late for that, I am afraid, young lady. Here we go. Amira. Please keep track of any errors she makes,” Darian said.
I literally screamed as the first stripping of the belt hit my ass, and them mewled out, “Thank you very much Daddy, for correcting me, and making me a much better girlfriend for you.”
I screamed and whimpered, and my body shook with my sobbing after each and every striking of my ass and thighs with Darian’s belt. I was a dithering mess when he finished and announced, “We’ll be untying your ankles so that Amira may give you a cleansing enema and rinsing, for the insertion of your first butt plug.”
“After that, with your hands still tied, she will coat your body with depilatory to remove all but the hair on your head and your eyebrows. If you give her one bit of trouble, I’ll shave you bald as well as shave off your eyebrows. I mean this,” Darian threatened.
It wasn’t until my colon had been cleansed and my body depilated of hair, that I was made to take a scented bubbled bath. Then Amira explained how I should moisturize and powder my body each and every time I took a “Girly” bubble bath. Amira showed me to the “Boudoir” I’d be using whenever I’d be “working” at their home.
While Amira seated me at my new “Vanity” and began to trim, set and finally “Stylize” my hair, Darian explained a few things to me. I was now wearing the string bikini, the three-inch high heels and the Geisha Kimono.
“I used your cell phone to tell your mother, Vivian, that you’d be staying overnight here, as I had more work for you to do. I’ve also copied all of your contacts list from your cell phone. We’ll be taking photos of your transformation as Amira turns you into my girlfriend, Cassie. In case you become recalcitrant, we’ll send those photos to your friends,” Darian explained.
Amira had used hot rollers to set my hair after she cut and shaped it. She then designed a very pretty, girlish hairstyle for me to wear. After that she put full facial makeup on me, including a truly “Wet-Look” hot pink lipstick. After she filed my nails and painted them the same hot pink to match my lipstick shade, she escorted me into the living room. While Darian watched, she instructed me on how to walk in high heels.
Learning to walk in my first set of Heels was both exhausting as well as uncomfortable. Amira would walk back and forth, showing me how to swing my hips, hold my wrists limp and prettily, and take small precise steps. She showed me how to hold my hand on my hip when standing. Then she looked at her watch.
“I need a shower and then I’ll show Cassie around the kitchen. You two have fun,” she said.
Darian sent me to get him an imported beer. When I opened it and handed it to him, he told me sit on his lap. I hesitantly sat down in a girlish manner, across Darian’s thighs. I didn’t realize it, but by moving so tentatively, and precisely, my movements appeared to be sexy and sultry. When he pulled me to him, my body went off balance, and I found myself clinging to him, with my arms around his neck, to keep from falling.
As he sipped his beer he fondled my ass cheek and thigh with his left hand. I was snuggled against his manly chest. Next he placed his beer on an end table next to his easy chair and began to kiss me. As much as I hated to admit, it, I realized then, that there was something, strangely stimulating about the scent of alcohol upon a strong man’s breath.
As he kissed me he chuckled and gripped my hardening penis, asking me, “You like playing Kissy-Face with Daddy, don’t you Sissy?”
I sighed and giggled. Then, not wanting to contradict him I answered, “Yes Daddy. Sissy enjoys kissing her Daddy.”
I blushed to the tips of my ears, shamed by my very own response. Darian continued to kiss me. My arms were around his shoulders and with my eyes closed, rubbing my chest against his was absolutely pleasurable.
“Does Sissy want to suck Daddy off and swallow his cum?” Darian asked, squeezing my balls for effect.
“Yes Daddy. Sissy would love to suck your cock and swallow your sperm, if that is what Daddy wants her to do,” I cooed. Once again I shivered in humiliation at how much of a Pansy I was concerning my interactions with this hunky, manly, masculine male.
“Kneel then, my Cassie girl, and give your Sugar Daddy a nice, sweet, blow job,” Darian ordered me.
I knelt at his feet, thinking about the term “Sugar Daddy” as I took his rock-hard cock in between my Hot-Pink lips. My mother always used that term to describe older, rich men, that kept Young, Trophy-girls, and bought them clothes, jewelry and cars, as well as saw to it that they stayed really pretty, with frequent trips to salons and spas.
As I sucked away, I heard the clicking of Amira’s high heels as she made her way back into the living room. When I paused, Darian took hold of my head, and told me, “Keep sucking girl. It’s only my Sister.”
“Oh my. I can see you two are playing, Daddy and Sissy games. No problem. I could use a nap. Bye-bye and have lots of fun,” Amira commented.
I continued to contentedly suck away, with my eyes closed, as Darian’s cock began to leak, salty pre-cum. In the same manner which his cock had swelled and expanded in my ass, and jerked reflexively, Darian’s penis exploded gobs of gooey sperm into my mouth.
Before my gag reflex could possibly take hold, Darian held the back of my head with one hand and massaged my neck and throat with the other. In that way, he carefully guided me in the swallowing of all his salted sperm. Apparently, having fucked me and then having had me blow him, was enough sex for Darian on that particular day.
After dinner, Amira asked, “Will you be taking her to bed this evening?”
“No, I’m exhausted. She’s your’s for the night,” Darian responded.
“Very well. I’ll show her how to set her hair, and start her sleeping in rollers,” Amira said.
“Excellent idea. The sooner she finds herself immersed in feminine pursuits, the quicker her transformation will proliferate,” Darian agreed.
For the very first of many evenings, I fell off to sleep with a plug in my anus and a sleep net covering the curlers in my hair.
Chapter II: Daddy’s Sissy, Mummy’s Girl
It would have been virtually impossible for me to imagine, that I would actually by living 24/7 with the Bashar’s. Or that I’d be working full-time for Amira at her beauty salon as a receptionist and doing shampoos. However after that initial weekend as Darian and Amira’s Sissy, essentially that is exactly what transpired within three weeks of that occurrence.
“Casey? Amira Bashar has an absolutely fantastic employment opportunity to offer you, and I for one, sincerely want you to accept it,” my mother chided me.
“You mean working as a receptionist and doing shampoos, at her Five-Star Beauty Salon and Spa in Beverly Hills?” I asked.
“Exactly, Darling. I realize that it will require you to reside with her and Darian. However it will also afford you the opportunity to clean up your appearance, as well as dress and groom yourself far more neatly. Best of all, you will very possibly learn a marketable vocation, such as Cosmetology,” my mother added.
I had learned never to disagree with my mother, so I cooperated and followed up. I never believed that the “Skater” attire I wore when I drove over to the Bashar Mansion, would be the last vestiges of true male clothing that would ever grace my soon-to-be, increasingly girlish body.
My mother would not permit me to pack a single thread of my boyish clothing. She announced, “I’ll be getting rid of these Ugly Rags. Amira assures me that she has an entire wardrobe of Salon Appropriate attire for you to wear, both at the beauty parlor as well as at their residence.”
Indeed she did. Although the outfits I’d soon wear around the residence, as well as when Darian and I went out on a date, were far and away more overtly feminine, than any of the Sissified, Androgynous apparel I would dress in at the Salon. And it seemed as if, the more I cooperated with Amira and Darian, the more stringent they’d become where my increasing emasculation was concerned.
For instance, Amira put me on a very strict, Low Carb, “White Protein Only” diet. Meaning of course, that I was restricted to poultry and seafood, and forbidden any sort of red meat. For breakfast I was allowed a small container of “No Sugar Added" Yogurt, a cup of plain black tea and a hardboiled egg.
Lunch was a very large, very filling diet shake. For dinner I was allowed a helping of either Poultry or Seafood, with a tossed salad and green vegetables. I was also given Dietary Vitamin Supplements. Within a few weeks, I easily noted a pronounced slimming of my waistline, though I was puzzled by the obvious increase in the roundness of my hips and butt.
In addition, I observed a plumpness, as well as a redness and itching in my Tit nipples. Along with those changes in my body, my emotional compliance and obedience to the wishes of both Amira and Darian increased exponentially. One evening after bathing and setting my hair, I confided in Amira concerning my plump, itchy nipples, and the very evident shapeliness of my hips.
“Honey, sit down on my bed with me. First off, tell me dear. Do you feel better about yourself? What I mean is, Doll, do you feel less pressured to make decisions, as well as sense that you are far more relaxed and pleased with yourself?” Amira smiled as she asked.
“Well yes. I have noted that. I’ll admit I do enjoy it when both you and Darian plan my days and even my evenings out for me. That does relieve me of a lot of stressful moments, and decision making,” I agreed.
“Okay. I thought that may be the case. You see honey, I’ve been feeding you substantial amounts of the Female Hormone, Estradiol, in both your Vitamin supplements and your diet shakes. And if you are really enjoying your emotional re-balancing, that can all become far more enjoyable for you, if you’ll visit my Gynecologist with me,” Amira offered.
“Am I becoming a girl?” I asked.
“Sort of, but primarily in an emotional way. And possibly in a mental sense. And along with all of that, physically you’re changing somewhat. But not completely of course,” Amira explained.
“Wow. So what would this GYN doctor do? I know my Mummy sees one,” I added.
“Well, right about here, on your hip, she’d implant a time-release capsule, that would slowly put Estrogen into your Endocrine system over about a six month time frame. Then the capsule simply dissolves and if you really enjoy what it has done for you, she’ll insert another capsule,” Amira said.
“Maybe every two months she may inject you with a booster, of the same medicine, in your other hip. You see, as good as you feel right now Cassie, what little Testosterone remains in your body, will still attempt to confuse you and conflict your emotional and mental states. Our goal would be to rid you of that awful Testosterone,” Amira said, as she smiled and kissed me softly on my cheek and ran her index finger over my lips.
“Look. I really do enjoy the way I’m feeling. So yes. Let’s do it. Let’s go visit your GYN,” I said agreeably.
In that moment I willingly became an active participant in my own emasculation. One Tuesday, mid-morning, at the salon, while I was tricked out in white Capri slacks, matching, three-inch heeled, buckled, calfskin ankle boots, and a pink tube-top, with a white training bra, it was so very easy for Amira to talk me into “Doing something different” with my hair.
She next dyed my dirty-blonde tresses, to a Champagne blonde with platinum highlighting. Then she cut and shaped my hair into a mid-length Bob. Finally she gave me a very tight roller set, fastened a hair-net in place, and sent me back to the waiting room, to work at the reception desk.
I could barely contain myself as I was so very excited with my new hair coloring and styling. Plus, all the ladies I escorted into the salon, and all those seated in the waiting room, couldn’t help but tell me how cute I looked in curlers with a pink, hairnet. I continually fussed with and patted my curlers as I answered the phone and took the payments for the salon treatments.
By that afternoon, I was running errands for Amira, to the drugstore, for Feminine Hygiene Products. As Amira had me write down, “Kotex Sanitary Pads,” “Tampon Sanitary Inserts” and “Massengill Scented Douche” I could hear the giggles from the girls working in the salon as well as see the smirks of the lady customers.
Yet more embarrassing, was when I did return and attempt to hand the shopping bag, to Amira, Amira said, “No honey, those aren’t for me, those are for you. Once we get home I’ll be instructing you in how to use those.”
My very last feminizing indignity of that particular day, occurred when Amira sent me to see, Lydia, our Esthetician to have my 1st, of three, Lip Filler treatments to fatten my lips and give me that “Bee Stung” appearance. While the Esthetician worked diligently, Amira dropped by to give me a third set of piercing holes in each ear.
I was being prepped for a date with Darian that coming Saturday evening at his Country Club. Darian had recently sold my car, sent the money by electronic transfer, to my mother for safekeeping, and purchased a beautiful Audi Sedan for me. However, he was concerned with me being pulled over for something trivial, such as a “Spot-Check” and the police officer noting that my new, exaggerated feminine appearance was far different than the “Boy” on the driver’s license.
“I want to discuss a sort of Legal Name Change with Nina, your mother, Cassie. Prior to actually placing the Title and Registration of the Vehicle in your name, darling,” Darian said.
Of course that made me nervous. I really didn’t want my mother to realize that under Darian’s tutelage, I was now in the process of becoming a very pretty, effeminate, and sometimes girlishly looking, (as well as attired), Limp-Wrist, Sissy-Boy. Apparently Darian had possessed other very dainty, effeminate, young, male Panty-Waist lovers in his recent past.
I’d come to really enjoy it when Darian referred to me as “Darling” and that was still very difficult for me to comprehend. In any event, I could basically not really go anywhere without being accompanied by Darian or Amira. I also had a new cellphone with a different number. Not that I would have wanted any of my male or female friends to contact me.
I’d truly become very isolated, and realistically, would not want my mother or her boyfriend William to see how ultra-feminine I’d become. The evening of my country club date with Darian was very near. That Saturday, Darian and William joined two of their friends at the Golf Course for a Foursome. Amira and I stayed behind. We both prepared for our evenings out.
Amira was dining with a wealthy female investor at the same Country club, and would be at our table for four with Darian and me. After both Amira and I took scented bubble baths, we moisturized and powdered, prior to doing each other’s hair, facial, and nails. We had our hair up in curlers, as we lounged around in Marabou slippers and elegant robes.
I was very fortunate, in that the Bashar’s had a regular cleaning service, a chef on call when needed, and a caterer to handle, parties, events and Soirees. I did very little housekeeping and cooking as well. Both Darian and Amira expected me to look pretty, speak only when spoken to, and practice my “Girl” lessons.
I was instructed to look, talk, sit, stand, walk, gesture and act like a girl. At a Soiree, I was told to cling to Darian’s arm, look at him adoringly, and be at both his and Amira’s beck and call. When Darian returned from the golf course, I met him at the door in my “Lounging” robe and Bouffant, Hairdo Bonnet.
“Darling, could I get you a drink, massage your feet, or do anything else for you?” I cooed, sexily.
“I did eat at the club. Hmm? Why not run me a hot bath, while I divest myself of my golfing garb? Then bring your self, along with a Scotch and Soda on the rocks, into my adjoining bath. I’d enjoy it if you’d bathe me,” Darian smiled, to my glee.
I knelt beside the tub and began to sponge his trim, well-muscled, athletic body, beginning with his chest. His dark eyes were closed. I wanted him to relax. With the exception of his penis, of course. I worked my way to his strong neck, broad back and firm shoulders, prior to moving the loofa sponge down his chest to his stomach.
It was when I reached his lower abdomen that I remarked, “Lean further back darling. I really need to soap up your genitalia. That’s it my dearest. Very nice. Now I can take care of that wonderfully large cock, along with those two, very swollen, cum-filled testicles.”
I could already feel his organ becoming larger, as well as stiffer within my dainty, girlish fingers. Darian calmly sipped his glass of Scotch as I lathered his penis and balls. I could hear his breathing become more pronounced. Then he asked, “Why don’t I stand and as you rinse me off with the shower hose I’ll enjoy my drink?”
“Then I can relax, standing upright, upon the soft, bath mat, and you may towel me off. Then your lips and tongue may linger lovingly around my Man-Meat, which I realize by now, that you adore so very much, Cassie?” Darian asked.
“Off course Darling,” I agreed, as I worked feverishly to rinse the soap off of him, and dry his trim, taught, body.
I next licked all over his cleaned balls. He always has had such a gorgeous cock. As I took his penis in my mouth and licked and sucked, I made certain to look up at him in Wide-Eyed adoration. He was so calm and relaxed, and fully in control, sipping on his Scotch, with his eyes, partially lidded.
He was everything I could never, ever be. Manly, assertive, strong, masculine and decisive. He made me realize that all along I had been fooling myself, but I didn’t deceive him one bit. Emotionally I’d always been girly, weak, passive, effeminate, and confused. That’s why Darian knew, from the very beginning, that he could take me and make me his girly-boy, without very much effort.
During that stage, I would usually sashay about his pool, straightening things up, and waiting on him, while he relaxed upon a Chaise-Lounger. I would be dressed in a Girl’s two-piece bikini swimsuit, wearing high heels and full makeup, with my Champagne blonde hair styled in a curly upsweep atop my head.
That particular afternoon, as I sucked his cock after giving him a bath, my lips shiny with lipstick, I slurped his penis so fervently, as the little Cock-Slut I’d become for him. I adored him having so very much control over me. His balls felt so wonderfully huge in my manicured fingers, and I wished his penis was inside of, my tight, Sissy, rectum.
Just prior to his Dick spasming inside of my blushed cheeks, I could hear his glass of Scotch being set down upon the marble top of the sink. It was then I felt one of his hands clasp behind my neck and the other hand rest firmly upon the satin scarf that I had put on over my hairnet and curlers. As he pulled my head closer to his groin, he let loose a gusher of Ejaculate that filled my eager mouth.
The taste and scent of his salty, manly semen enveloped my girlish senses. How much I had grown to love having his seed inside of my mouth and rectum! The feeling filled me with a girlish, feminine glow of thrilling excitement, which only a Sissy such as me could ever experience. It was nearly other-worldly.
As I sucked and gulped, to gobble up even the last portion of an ounce of his creamy, salty Goo, my body filled with chills and tingles. Darian chose to enjoy a nap after his bath and orgasm. While Amira made a few phone calls, I decided to lay out my outfit for the evening date with my handsome boyfriend.
After laying out my evening apparel, I planned my hairstyle and makeup for the country club outing. Additionally I thought over the style and color of the Negligee I’d wear to bed, if and when Darian would require me to sexually service him.
The evening at the Club turned out wonderfully, even including the surprise which Darian thrust upon me out of the blue. After a romantic slow dance, Darian took me by the arm and we strolled to the Veranda which overlooked the Country Club’s gardens as well as a portion of the Golf Course where he’d played earlier that day.
“Next month we’ll be visiting your mother, Nina and staying the weekend so that she can meet, and get a full, in-person view of her new, daughter Cassie,” Darian announced.
I gasped, with a huge intake of breath. I was ready to swoon and faint, when Darian interjected the words which I needed to calm myself.
“Cassie? Chill-out, please? Nina is fully aware of your transition and change in lifestyle, and she’s very thrilled with your progress. Throughout your transformation, Amira and I have been sending her many of the photos we’ve taken of you. In fact, pose elegantly for me. There,” Darian said.
“I’m sending that photo, along with a text for Mummy Nina to call you ASAP, and speak to you concerning her approval of your current appearance and your future plans,” Darian insisted.
It wasn’t until we’d arrived back at the opulent residence which I then resided in, and slept with my boyfriend and lover, Darian, that my cell phone jingled and I saw that it was my mother calling. Darian signaled for me to answer the call.
“Hello Mummy? No, it isn’t too late to call me,” I simpered.
“Cassie, you looked absolutely sensational in the last photo Darian sent me. That little black dress you were wearing fit your curvy, little body so perfectly honey. And what is that new hair color my Precious? Is that Platinum blonde?” Mummy asked.
“No Mummy. It’s Champagne Blonde, but it does have Platinum highlights. Amira did it for me,” I said.
“Well it’s gorgeous honey. And I love the styling. Those inverted, asymmetrical Bobs are just so very, Chi-Chi, darling. That sort of stylization works perfect for a girly-girl such as you, Princess. And Amira tells me you are going to make a fabulous Cosmetician. I’ve already Transferred some money from your college fund, for your tuition at Michael Vincent’s Beauty Academy,” Mummy added.
“Oh thank you Mummy,” I said.
“I have had your boudoir enlarged, remodeled and completely redecorated. I’ve added a full, luxurious bath and the entire space is all pinks and whites, with a few other soft pastels. I also went through with a legal name change for you, honey. And while you are here, I plan on taking you to get a new driver’s license, as well as get some Mother/Daughter photos taken, especially for this year’s Holiday card,” Mother explained.
“I am so looking forward to seeing my new, pretty daughter next month sweetie. And I hope you do realize what a lucky girl you truly are to have a wealthy, handsome man like Darian interested in you?” Mother gushed.
“Thank you Mommy. I love you and really can’t wait to see you. And yes, I adore Darian, Mommy. He takes such good care of me,” I simpered.
That evening in bed, I did everything I possibly could, to lavish my adoration upon Darian and his manly body. Darian insisted, that when I came to bed with him, I should be adorned in full, facial makeup, with my hair “Done,” wearing all my jewelry, including earrings, a necklace and bracelets, as well as be drenched in perfume. He’d frequently refer to me as his, “Harem, Bed-Slave.”
That evening after our Country Club date, as well as any other evening in bed with him, I attempted to live up to the sexual expectations he demanded of me. I began slowly with a romantic French kiss, prior to kissing, licking and sucking my way down his masculine body, from his neck to his penis. I did not ever want to disappoint him. Once I arrived at his penis, I held it adoringly prior to putting it into my mouth and sucking on it.
I’d make the cooing, obsequious, ingratiating, sounds of a groveling servant, wanting to impress her Master with her adulation for him. When his cock reached its maximum proportions, I’d ask, “Oh, Master Darian, my Daddy, and my Lover? Would you desire for your slave girl to position herself for a proper Fucking, Sir?”
“Yes of course. You may become my little Bitch-Poodle this evening,” Darian then ordered me, as I immediately placed myself on hands and knees to present my ass to the man who absolutely owned me. Though a fervent, aggressive lover, Darian was never abusive with me.
Yes, it was true that he had slapped me, that day at the pool, when he first made me his Bitch-Boy. He’d also whipped me with his belt that same day when I refused my initial feminization. However since I’d become his girl he had not touched me or even threatened me.
He’d explained to me, “Girl’s should only be spanked, over the knee, with something like a hairbrush. Simply to show them their place in the relationship, as Chattel.”
Darian held my ass steady, as he lubricated my rectum thoroughly. Then he paused to lube his stiff cock. Soon enough, I could feel his hardened penis pushing against my Sissy-Ass-Pussy hole. I pushed back gasping, “Oh yes Daddy, please fuck me? Oh please fuck your little Sissy bitch, Daddy. Your Sissy Bitch loves you so much Daddy.”
His penis slid in so beautifully and as he held me nice and steady, I put my head down on a pillow as I lifted my plump ass up higher so he could really screw me. I felt so luscious and sensual for him. I wanted him to enjoy me for my delicious femininity and girlishness. I never again wanted to ever think of myself as a boy, or have anyone else view me in that sort of way.
I wanted to be as girly as I possibly could be. As Darian moved his cock in and out of my asshole, I wiggled my butt crazily, as I squeaked, squealed and gasped femininely. I was beside myself with pleasure and my little cockette was swollen and my tiny nut sack was puffed up. Before Darian would ever ejaculate I could no longer restrain myself.
Creamy, white goo began to spurt from my sissy-clit and I let out dainty, little whinnies of passion. I began sobbing like the little bitch that I’d become when Darian’s massive cock let loose with a gusher of of steamy ejaculate which flooded my rectal canal. As he Came, I flexed my anal tissues, to squeeze his penis.
I so very desperately wanted his creamy fluid inside of me. We both collapsed on the bed, and I felt Darian’s hard member recede from my butthole. It had been a long day for both of us. With Darian golfing, and me beautifying myself. Then both of us dining and dancing at the club, prior to enjoying steamy, alcohol fueled, bedtime sex.
I wouldn’t have traded my life for anything, nor did I ever desire to lose my man. I fell of into a dreamy, perfumed sleep, comfortable in my growing femininity.
Chapter III: Salon Magic, and Darian’s Bitch
On the drive into Amira’s Salon the Monday following our country club outing, Amira instructed me to prepare to have my hair done in the afternoon hours.
“I want to put a Loose Perm in to give you some wave, curl and body, Cassie. Then about a week prior to you and Darian visiting your mother, I’ll want to darken your tresses, in preparation for your Driver’s License Photo as well as your school ID card at Michael Vincent’s Academy of Beauty,” Amira explained.
Just after lunch, Amira had me tag along behind the shampoo girl to have my hair washed, conditioned and wrapped Turban style in a towel. I was already properly caped. I was then escorted by the shampoo girl, Caitlin, to “Madame Amira” as Caitlin referred to my Boyfriend’s sister.
All of the salons that Amira Bashar owned were luxurious and modernistic in theme, from the extensive remodeling which Darian subsidized each and every time Amira purchased a new location. However, the main salon, where both Amira and I worked, was of brand new construction and totally state-of-the-art.
I was seated in front of a circular, wrap-around, mirrored, ornate vanity styling station, in a well-cushioned, very comfortable, lounge type, height-adjustable, swiveling, chair. The salon chair was very similar to the style which a top-tier fashion model or Hollywood actress might be seated in, for her final hair and makeup prior to a shoot. A smiling Amira removed the towel from my still wet locks.
She fingered my hair, prior to combing it out to it’s full length. It was basically in the same wash-and-wear style I might have it in, right after showering.
“I won’t be cutting too, very much off at all, Cassie. Your hair is just the perfect, very versatile length, for this type of Bob, and will work with any style, even an evening Updo. I’ll just be snipping the ends,” Amira promised.
I was relieved, in that I loved my asymmetrical, inverted Bob, so very, very much. It was just such a wonderfully, girly styling. I observed as she clipped away, and paused as Caitlin returned with a tray of waving rods, a bottle of perm solution and some accessories.
“Would you like to hand me the rods, Cassie? I’ll tell you which color rod as we go along,” Amira said.
As I handed Amira the perm rods we made small talk. I’d really began to feel very, very, comfy in the atmosphere of an Ultra-Femme salon, such as the numerous Beauty Parlors that Amira owned. I looked at these female beautification establishments, as the “Inner Sanctums” of hyper-femininity.
Any longer, I just really believed that I truly belonged to this sort of “Sorority” of ladies that gravitated to these nurturing environments where we could gossip, giggle, listen to the silly, girly music we enjoyed and just completely be ourselves.
Once my perm was put up on the rods, Amira sectioned off a Gauzy wrap, to pull all the curlers snugly together. It was still very much a “Loose” wrap, similar to a “Beach” wave. Not a tight wrap like a Curly Perm. Having been working at Amira’s salon, and having assisted with giving several perms, I knew the odorous ammonia-like scent of the solution could be quite unpleasant.
However I didn’t realize just how pungent the smell could truly be until Amira saturated my tresses with the acrid perm lotion. I know my eyes began to water slightly, and I could also feel a tingling in my scalp. But nothing like the scent that permeated my nostrils, once I was placed under the warm hair dryer, as the wave rods began to tighten yet more snugly to my head.
The entire process was also quite feminizing, though hardly as emasculating as the first time I was properly fitted for a brassiere at a foundation garment Modiste. On that particular day, I realized I had at long last, through the formation of a set of pubescent breasts at my bosom, once and for all, joined the “Girls” club.
As I sat underneath a dryer, I was given a copy of the Magazine “Teen Queen.” Of course it had articles on fashion, hair styles, cosmetics and Hollywood. It also had a piece on “Attracting and keeping a Boyfriend.” At one juncture the article explained that a girl might even consider “Going all the way.”
Having been “All the way,” and being the type of girl that kept herself “Pretty, Stylish, and Slim,” I felt safe and secure that my boyfriend and lover, Darian would stay interested in me. A smiling, Amira turned off the hair dryer, checked my “Curl” and asked, “How have you enjoyed the process of a perm thus far, Cassie?”
“Oh, it’s been interesting. You know Amira, I love salons and I also adore the pampering and attention that one receives as a customer,” I stated.
“Oh yes. A morning, afternoon or an entire day of being pampered at a beauty parlor is simply a truly joyous occasion, I agree,” Amira cooed, as she escorted me back to her her styling station. After a rinse, the application of the neutralizer and another rinse, I was ready for the removal of the rods, then, a warm blowdrying and styling.
“I want to do your hair Up, as your mother wants some photos of you in an Updo, for your License, your school ID and the family Holiday card,” Amira stated, as she handed me the rods to put into the tray and readied my hair for proper stylization.
Amira used a warm blow dryer, along with a brush and comb to style my permed, asymmetrical, inverted bob into a perfectly chic, Updo, for a medium length hairstyle such as I had. To assure a maximum “Hold” Amira applied copious amounts of sculpting pomade as well as “Extra-Strength” spray-net Lacquer.
Once my styling was to her liking, Amira reached into the briefcase she often carried and removed a very colorful, Plum-Blossom pattered, large chiffon scarf.
“This is called a Hijab, Cassie. Women in my native country wear these, often to cover their hair. We won’t be fully covering yours. However, Darian would like to see you wearing one of these from time to time. All the ones I have purchased for you are very extravagantly patterned just as this one is. Watch.” Amira said as she wrapped the “Scarf” which she called a “Hijab” around my head.
She took the ends and after wrapping them, and laid them over my left shoulder. As she had promised the “Peak” of my stylish Updo showed from under the scarf. The effect was very sexy and tantalizing for me. Then, smiling, prior to doing my makeup, Amira affixed a “Hijab” over her own hair.
Amira made certain my cheeks and lips were well-pronounced as she did my makeup. My lips were much plumper now from the fattening, Collagen injections I’d been getting. Amira next coated my lips heavily with a Burgundy lipstick, causing my “Bouche” to really stand out. My cheeks were not as full, mostly from my strict dieting, and Amira gave my more slender face a “Model’s Look” with the way she blended my Burgundy and Plum blush.
We wore our Hijab’s for the rest of the day at the salon, and many of the ladies complemented us on how nice we looked. Amira explained, “I want to save this wearing of the Hijab as a surprise for Darian, until after we have your photos taken when you visit with your Mommy, in a few weeks. When he sees you with darkened hair and the Hijab, I am certain he’ll simply adore it.”
I began to realize how perfectly Amira was training and grooming me to become her Brother’s Concubine. That excited me, as I always dearly wanted to please Darian. In a couple of weeks I was once again seated in front of Amira’s salon styling vanity having my hair colored a deep, rich, dark brunette, with coppery highlighting.
Once Amira painted in the base, Dark-Brunette shading, she tinted my eyebrows and lashes to match the brunette coloring. Next Amira thinned and shaped my brows into two, very high, well-defined arches. Then, my hair was sectioned and foil-wrapped, for the Splashes of Coppery, Titian highlighting to be added.
It was just so very Magical sitting in front of the wrap-around mirror, with the shiny foil interspersed throughout my wet, darkened hair. It was such a fabulous turn-on, feeling as if I were a part of this “Inner-Circle” of ultra-femininity. Amira had decreed that I would be experiencing a Female Menstrual Cycle each month for four days, which she’d mark on a calendar in my boudoir as well as in her office at the salon.
I would be required to drink a minimum of 8, eight ounce glasses of water per day to simulate bloating. I was also to wear a sanitary napkin between my shrinking genitalia and my panties, as well as a Tampon in my well-lubed rectum. The tampon was actually a welcome relief from the usual Butt-Plug.
The day of my hair-coloring, my “Monthly” had actually began and I was so lucky to be wearing the pad. Because as Amira began to style my freshly colored and recently permed hair, I obtained a slight erection and began to dribble Sissy-Semen into my Sani-Pad. The excitement of that day was yet to culminate, however.
When we arrived home from the salon, Amira received a text that Darian would be returning from work earlier than usual. “This is wonderful, my Precious Little Pet. Allow me to give your tresses a slight fluffing and a final, holding spray. “I’ll meet Darian at the door and ask what he’d enjoy for dinner. Then I’ll summon you to the living room and you’ll sashay in with his Scotch on the Rocks,” Amira smiled.
Everything went as planned. I just simply could not believe the look of approval on Darian’s face when he saw me with darkened hair, bold, dusky makeup and large, Gypsy-Hoop earrings.
“Oh my wonderful Daddy and Master. Would you enjoy a Scotch on the Rocks?” I asked.
“Yes I would, my dearest Kassima. My, but aren’t you a Raven-Haired Beauty, today, my little Harem Bed-Slave?” Darian asked.
“Oh, I’m so thrilled you like my hair color. Amira suggested I do it for you? Kassima? Did you call me Kassima?” I asked.
“Yes. It was supposed to be a surprise from your mother, tomorrow. It’s your new, legal first name. It’s Arabic. I suggested Cassandra. However your mother had a personal reason not to use that name. She asked me to pick something Arabic. I couldn’t help myself when I saw you, with the dark-brunette color and the vivid mask of makeup. I’ll have to let Nina know,” Darian said.
“Come my Pet. Sit on my lap and we may kiss,” Darian stated.
As I sat and put my arms around Darian, we engaged in a smothering French-Kiss. His hands roamed to my tits. Just then, Amira entered the Parlor.
“I overheard everything. I just did let Nina know that Kassima was aware of a portion of her new name. By the way Kassima. In Arabic your new name means Glamorous and Elegant. Nina said we could tell Kassima the rest of her name change. You are now Kassima Antoinette Bronte. Bronte was your mother’s maiden name which she took back after she divorced your father. She wants you to use it,” Amira explained.
“Antoinette was your great-grand-mother’s name. Your mother always wanted to give a daughter that name if she ever had a daughter. Now she does,” smiled Amira.
Until we left for mother’s house the next day, I was unaware that Amira would accompany us in her car. We arrived Friday afternoon. William and Darian would be playing golf very early the following morning and would be sleeping in the guest room where mother had placed two double beds. That way they wouldn’t disturb anyone when they arose so early.
Amira would use another guest room. Mummy gave me a tour of my old room which I’d be using. In fact, Saturday evening I’d be sleeping there with Darian. William and Darian turned in early after dinner and a few drinks. We “Girls” stayed up later and I set Mummy’s hair and Amira set mine for our photos the following day.
We arrived very early just as the Motor Vehicles office was opening. My hair was done in a gorgeous 60’s Bouffant style upsweep with a rolled curl in front. The rolled curl and a portion of my Pompadour showed from underneath my “Peacock” themed Hijab. Amira also wore her Hijab in a modernistic, stylish manner very similar to mine.
The lady in the office where our private appointment was held, looked me over as well as all of my paperwork. She checked my former ID. Then she had me sign my name as it would be on my new License.
“Sign right here on that line, Miss Bronte. Kassima Antoinette Bronte. That will be transposed electronically to your new license. Now sit here so that I can do your photo and we will be able to process everything very quickly, Miss. Now, we normally don’t permit hats or head coverings, but we realize that a Hijab is worn for religious reasons,” the lady agreed.
After leaving there, we went to a Photographic Studio to have passport photos taken as well as a photo for my Beauty Academy ID.
“I’ll have this processed by the offices at Michael Vincent’s. Now, let’s get our makeup done and they can do the photographs for your family holiday card,” Amira added.
Mummy and I took several photos alone and together as well as a couple with Amira. However the highlight of my weekend occurred when we returned to Mother’s house and Darian saw me in my new Hijab. He was in the process of moving his suitcase into my new girly boudoir where we’d be staying for the evening.
I minced into the room, with my purse dangling from the crook of my right arm. As I closed the door Darian strode towards me, took me into his arm and kissed me forcefully. I kissed him back just as fervently.
“Aren’t you my lovely Arabian Princess, this late afternoon, Kassima? Go over to the side of your bed, and kneel for me,” Darian said.
As I knelt, he sat upon the bed facing me. From the pocket of the blazer he was wearing, he took a small box. From the box, he pulled a resplendent Diamond Ring! My eyes grew large in surprise.
“Give me you left hand, with your wrist dainty and limp, and your fingers spread wide my love. As I place this ring upon your finger, I lay claim to you as my future bride. Do you promise to love, worship adore and obey me, Kassima?” Darian asked.
“Oh yes Darian. You are my Master, my love. You are everything to me. You are the Sun, the Moon, the Planets and the Stars in the Sky Darian. I bow to you my Master,” I said as I placed my forehead upon the floor at his feet.
“Very well. Then we will be married. You may rise to your feet and I will remove your Hijab. When you are in my presence, wearing the Hijab, only I may remove it Kassima. I will lock the door, remove your Hijab and you may undress so that we might make love and consummate our engagement,” Darian said.
Once he had taken my Hijab from me, I began to remove my clothing as did Darian. “Your mother, my sister and William all know what my plans were to be. They will not be surprised at all that we did not return to the downstairs immediately. We will not be disturbed,” Darian explained as we both got into bed.
We kissed each other greedily once we embraced in the new King bed which my mother had put in my newly redecorated boudoir. As Darian massaged and kissed my Tit nipples, I took hold of his blood-engorged penis.
“Darian, when you allow me to, I must suck your cock. This is just such an amazing moment for me, my Darling Lover, that I simply must have your penis in my mouth to celebrate it properly,” I effused.
“Of course my dear. You may do that this very instant should you so desire. With your new fattened lips, your blow jobs are even yet more amazing than when you first sucked me off,” Darian agreed.
I took his cock into my mouth as I gently squeezed his balls. I wanted to moisten it thoroughly should Darian decide that he wanted to fuck my Sissy-Ass-Pussy. I briefly thought of what it just might be like to have a real pussy, hmm?
As I licked and sucked his prick, as well as fondled his balls, his cock grew to a fabulous proportion within my slender cheeks. I wanted him so badly to be inside of me. I simply adored it when he fucked me while I was on my back just as he would fuck a real woman. I wanted to be far more than his Sissy-Bitch. I wanted to be his woman.
The way in which I was moaning and slurping must have alerted Darian to how much I truly needed his cock in my asshole. He gripped my shoulders and said, “I want to fuck you while we are standing up. Go and stand at the foot of the bed, while I get something that will truly make you into my Harem bed slave.”
Mummy had put the most gorgeous, really girly, four-poster canopied bed in my newly renovated boudoir. Darian went into his suitcase and removed one of his silk neckties. He quickly tied it around my wrists, with my hands in front of me. Then he fastened the necktie to the top of one of the rear posts of the bed.
My hands were tied high above my head and my slender body was extended as if I were some sort of prisoner about to be publicly whipped or caned. Two of Darian’s fingers entered my rectum as he coated the inside of my anus with a lubricating gel. I didn’t dare look back as I felt as if I were some sort of slutty chattel being readied for a Gang-Bang.
I knew he was lubing up his penis. I could hardly believe though, that this was how he was going to screw me on the afternoon of our wedding engagement? Once he did begin to fuck me though, I was thrilled that he had chosen the method that he did. His cock slowly went inside of me. Then he grabbed me by my tits, kneading them roughly. I moaned as if I were a bitch-whore. “Oh darling, this is fabulous. Oh please fuck me silly my Master?” I groaned throatily.
Every single time he pumped his cock into my rectum I grunted and gasped. Then as Darian picked up the pace I started to squeal girlishly. Finally as I began to throw my ass back towards him roughly, he began to pound my anus like he’d never fucked me before. It was absolutely the most torrid sex we’d ever engaged in as of yet.
I began to scream as a creamy fluid began to eject from my pudgy, little Sissy-Clit. My screams turned into sobs as I began to mewl and cry. Tears of passion streamed from my eyes as Darian finally exploded into a shuddering, manly climax that filled me up with what felt like gobs of thick, creamy hot, semen. He pumped so much ejaculate into me that it began to run down both of my legs.
By the time Darian untied me from the bedpost and carried me to my bed, I was a dithering, slobbering, babbling mess. I must have fainted and collapsed into his arms, because when I did come to, my head was resting upon one of his broad shoulders.
“Oh? Where are we? Are we still at Mummy’s? What time is it? Oh that was wonderful Darian. Oh please do that again. The next time though, please just tie me up more tightly darling?” I begged.
“Oh my. How much longer can we lay here? I’m still buzzing from that screwing you just gave me,” I gasped.
Truly, even til this day, I still don’t really have a clue if anyone in the household ever even heard me screaming like a banshee? And I no longer care. I showered, did my makeup, and dressed in a Swing Skirt, with a peasant blouse and strappy sandals. We walked into the living room where Mummy and Amira were chatting, and William was watching golf on the TV.
When Darian finally announced our engagement, Mummy and Amira screamed. Then they kissed and hugged me between them in their arms. Once they let me go it seemed as if all I could do was hold my left hand in the air, flutter my fingers to show off the diamond and spin around on my high heels with my skirt flared into the air.
I felt just so wonderfully fucked, and girlishly happy. I finally sat down and laid my head against Mummy’s bosom and bubbled with elation. Mummy and Amira began plans for the wedding, which Darian agreed should be the following June. With the Holidays closely upon us I knew nothing would really get done until next year anyway. And what did I care? I was the Bride and they’d be waiting on me hand and foot to begin with.
All I had to do was look pretty and be a Good Girl. Mummy then decided the next most important thing would be the planning of our family Holiday card. She wanted to introduce me to everyone as her Brand New Daughter Kassima. She really couldn’t wait to send my Father a card, either. The sooner the better as far as Mummy was concerned.
As for William, Mummy’s new boyfriend, he tried desperately to act interested. But all he really cared about at that moment, was ultimately marrying my gorgeous, very well-educated and financially well-off mother. After all, who wouldn’t?
All that presently concerned me, was that my fabulously wealthy, very masculine, handsome boyfriend was now my Fiancé. As I sat at the family dinner that evening, taking the tiny delicate bites of food that I was used to taking, I paid rapt attention to the conversation, especially whenever my Fiancé, Darian said anything.
It was expected of me to look very pretty, smile extra sweetly, and always keep my very evident lack of true, intelligent opinions to myself. Whenever it seemed appropriate, I’d wink at my lover, purse my lips and blow him a little kiss, or touch him fondly, to show him just how much I loved and cherished him.
And at bedtime, in my very girly, former bedroom, now my lovemaking boudoir, I painted my eyes, cheeks and lips, seductively. I next perfumed my naked body and slithered into a pink negligee as I gracefully fell into bed, and initially snuggled with my handsome man.
Crawling, cloyingly beside him, I touched his shoulder and whispered, “I’m so very excited that I’ll one day be your bride Darian. My lithe body is bursting with sexual desire my love. Why don’t you relax my dear Master, and allow your very feminine and delicate Harem Bed Slave to drain your ball-sac with her puffy, fattened lips?”
“Of course you may, my lovely, sensuous play-toy. I know how much it means to you to please me,” Darian answered.
“Thank you my noble Master,” I simpered, as I took his ever hardening penis between my sweet, painted, girlish lips.
Ever so gently I fondled his testicle sac as I licked and sucked his rock hard erection. I savored the wonderful taste of his manly sweat and salty pre-cum. I knew, deep down that I did not deserve this pleasure. I was unworthy and absolutely worthless.
This wonderful man showered me with gifts of lingerie, perfumes, soaps, jewelry and tall, stiletto heels. Simply for those moments when I’d provide him with unabashed sensual shamelessness. I was the perfect Trophy Bride.
I wasn’t very intelligent, I was young, terribly gorgeous, and completely moldable. I also couldn’t become pregnant, and I could easily be “Body-Shamed.” Additionally I was a complete slut in bed, totally subservient, and a charming “Ditz” at Soirees.
I didn’t mind any of that one bit. I truly didn’t care if he kept a few whores on the side either. I was marrying him, not any of them, if they indeed existed.
And as I slurped hungrily at Darian’s cock, I proved beyond the shadow of a doubt, that I lived to be his Cum-Drenched Slattern. I was getting enough sips of Darian’s Pre-Cum to know that a true “Gusher of Sperm” would soon be jettisoned inside of my prettily rouged cheeks.
The inevitable occurred at long last. I felt his cock swell suddenly to its maximum proportions. That was quickly followed by a spasmodic jerking of his penis. Then and only then, did the floodgates finally open. Oh, how wonderful the taste always was!
Thick, gooey gobs, of salty, sticky ejaculate filled my mouth and throat once again. I carefully savored the flavor of each and every droplet. I listened so very carefully, to the very mannish grunts, groans and gasps coming from deep within Darian’s hairy chest. Then came the sighs of Darian’s sated passion, as I licked his penis spotlessly clean.
I’d swallowed nearly all of Darian’s semen except for a few small drops that I still coveted beneath my tongue. As I laid my head upon his brawny shoulder, I played with those tiny drops of sperm between my tongue, my lips and my cheek. As I closed my eyes I at last gulped and finally swallowed the remaining bits of ejaculate I’d been treasuring so very dearly.
As I drifted off to sleep my mind wandered, yet I felt so very contented. I also convinced myself that in order to really keep Darian fully interested, I’d eventually need to undergo the surgery necessary to finally have a real Girl’s Pussy. Of course I realized I’d also find it prudent to have my useless little “Peanuts” sliced off. Afterwards, my empty ball sac and my tiny penis would be used to assist in forming my vagina.
It was so very, very much to think about. The beauty of it all was that I wouldn’t have to make a single, solitary decision on my own. Everything would be decided by either Mummy, Amira, Darian or any combination of that trio. I need not ever think at all for myself. :)
Chapter IV: Arabian Princess
It was just such a perfectly cool morning in late November that I decided it was the perfect time to wear my new, Vermillion, Rabbit Fur coat, with the Scarlet Fox collar and cuffs. We’d be on our way to Mummy’s for the 1st of three Holiday weekends. Along with my new coat, I wore a pair of Magenta, Suede, Three Buckle, Ankle Boots with a three and a half inch, stiletto heel.
Underneath my coat was a Lilac, Puff-sleeve, three-tiered, mini dress. Due to the slight chill in the morning, I wore white tights. I’d decided to wear a Crimson Hijab to match my coat and ankle boots. My swept bangs and the longer hair on the left side of my head, showed beneath the brightly colored Hijab.
Darian liked to see some of my dark hair showing, as it made me look even more so, as if I were of partial Arabic descent. I’d been having so much fun driving my new Audi sedan to both Amira’s salon, Tuesday’s and Thursdays, and the Michael Vincent Beauty Academy on Monday, Wednesday and Friday.
Amira did have to give me lessons as far as driving in high heels. I adored playing the role of a Trophy Girlfriend, driving the fully-loaded Audi my Rich Boyfriend had given me. I loved the sun roof and the heated, leather seats.
For the trip to mother’s I wore my dark-brunette, Titian shaded, inverted, asymmetrical bob, down, but slightly teased. As always I never went anywhere without full-facial makeup and plenty of jewelry, including earrings, necklace and bracelets.
Darian, of course was driving. He rarely if ever got into a vehicle with a female, unless he was the driver. Besides the usual November Holiday feast, mother was very excited about showing me our Holiday card which she’d soon be mailing to all of our friends and family.
In fact, once both Darian and William were seated with drinks in front of the TV, mother took me into the den to show me the cards, and the typewritten letter that would be included with each and every, holiday card.
“Oh Mummy, such a very lovely holiday greeting card. Oh my that is such a gorgeous picture of us together, isn’t it? I love how I look in a Hijab,” I cooed.
In the photo, taken in a studio, mother and I were hugging, in front of a Holiday tree with packages underneath. I was wearing my Peacock-Themed Hijab, with some, but not all, of my Sassy Updo showing. The inscription read, “Happy Holidays from Nina and Kassima.”
The letter, included with each card, very clearly spelled out my Transformation from Casey to Kassima, and would certainly raise a few eyebrows.
“Dearest Friends and Family. Happy Holidays to you all. It has been a very interesting year and a half. My dear daughter Kassima and I were so very busy during the last Holiday season that we didn’t send out a card, and for that we do apologize.
By now, you must be wondering just who Kassima might be? You once knew Kassima as a boy named Casey. Kassima has now decided that she much prefers to live a very happy, exciting life as a female, rather than a boy. She has been in transition now for over 15 months. The results are very obvious. She’s an absolutely gorgeous, very fulfilled and happy young lady.
She is taking her Transformation a day at a time. She’s grown a lovely pert bosom through HRT. She now has a job as a Cosmetician Trainee at a Beauty Parlor. She is also studying to be a hairdresser at Michael Vincent’s Academy of beauty. I adore being with her as she has become Mummy’s Darling Little Girly Girl!
Kassima met a very nice man, some years older than her, (He was 30 and she was 18 when they met). And they have fallen in love. They are now engaged to be married! He owns a fabulous mansion home, is an executive with Saudi Aramco, and is of Arabian descent. Which is why he chose Kassima as my lovely daughter’s new first name. Her full legal name is now Kassima Antoinette Bronte, as she also took my maiden name for her last name.
The wedding will be in June, and you all should expect invitations. And by the way, you girls that went to high school with Kassima? I hope you’ll line up to be her Bridesmaids? All our best, from Nina and Kassima.”
“Mummy, did you send this to girls I knew from High School?” I asked, blushing.
“No sweetie, but I did send it to their mothers. Just in case someone wanted to contact us, I included my cell phone number at the end of the letter. If any of your friends contact me, would you like me to give them your new Cell number, Baby?” Mummy asked.
“Only the girls Mummy. I don’t want to talk to any of the Icky boys. I know you’re sending Daddy a card and I certainly do not want to speak to him,” I said.
“Yes. Your father will likely be freaking out, when he receives the card,” Mother agreed.
The calls did begin to come in, though it was after everyone stopped being busy over the Holidays. The first few calls were from girls that I had once dated. Every single one of them wanted to get together with me, as well as be one of my bridesmaids. Things were getting very busy for me, as with the Holiday season over with, Mother and Amira were Full Speed Ahead on planning the wedding.
“We need a time for you to begin to get fitted for your Trousseau, Kassima. It will be an all day affair. We’re fortunate I am well connected, as at least the Courtier has agreed to come to our residence with her assistants. Everything in your entire Trousseau will be from the Rula Habib Bridal Collection,” Amira said proudly.
“Really? Rula Habib? The former fashion model? I didn’t realize she had a big exposure on the West Coast? I was aware she had expanded from New York to Europe,” I stated, as Fashion was one of the few topics I could actually speak about with even modest intelligence.
“Rula and I recently worked out an agreement to put her beauty products in my salons and her apparel in my boutiques. She estimated that if she was going to gain a foothold on our coast, Beverly Hills would be the place to begin,” Amira informed me.
“Oh? Well fabulous. Okay then. Can we do the fittings over the weekend? Between work, school, and doing lunch and stuff with some of the girls I knew and dated from High School, I’m really fully scheduled during the week,” I whimpered.
“My oh my, aren’t you the little social butterfly, these days? Of course. The weekend is perfect. What do you think I do during the week? Relax by the pool?” Amira teased.
My very first lunch date was the following Monday, right after a Makeup class at the Beauty Academy. It was with a Latina I dated during my senior year, Aurora Moreno. Aurora was an exceptional beauty, with thick, lustrous nearly Jet-Black, wavy tresses. As we always did when we had dated, we would be dining at a restaurant of Aurora’s choosing.
It was called the Spanish Meson, a restaurant serving Castilian fare. As I minced into the restaurant atop my stiletto heels, I instantly spotted Aurora. I smiled and wiggled the fingers of my left hand. Aurora stood up smiling and winked. As we embraced I cooed, “You look fabulous, as always Aurora darling!”
“Mi Chica Bonita,” Aurora said, huskily as she kissed both my cheeks in turn.
“Oh my Kassima, allow me a better look at you. You’re just stunning. And you smell so fragrant and lovely. Having a wealthy Fiancé works so well with you, darling,” she smiled, kissing me softly upon my wet lips for good measure.
“Oh thank you so very, very much Aurora. Yes, I’ve really begun to enjoy playing the role of Rich, Trophy Bitch. And thanks so very, very much for inviting me to luncheon with you, dear. Oh I love the decor of this place,” I giggled.
We ordered our drinks first, and we continued on with our appetizers and meals. I kept my order light, as I was being really, very careful with my waistline.
“Could you recognize me at all?” I asked.
“Somewhat from your facial features but that’s about it. You’re definitely more svelte then you ever were. And of course your hair color has changed. However, it wasn’t a huge surprise when I read in the Christmas card that Nina sent to my mother, that you had transitioned,” Aurora admitted.
“Really? How so? Hmm?” I asked.
“You know, Kassima. Oh, by the way, that’s Arabian, isn’t it? I love it Girlfriend. Did your Fiancé pick that out for you Precious? He exerts a lot of control over you doesn’t he? I see you aren’t wearing the Hijab, today though?” Aurora noted.
“Well yes. Darian is the sole decision maker in our relationship. But, I truly enjoy that arrangement. As for the Hijab, I mostly wear it when I’m with Darian. But he’s not a Fundamentalist at all. He just enjoys the look of me being subservient to him. But what about you not being all that surprised that I went Trans?” I asked.
“Okay honey. You know sometimes you hear that someone came out as Gay, or as Trans? And you say, Oh wow! I can’t believe that? Then there are times when you just remark, Hmm? You know I could picture that happening,” Aurora replied.
“When we dated, you were always so very sweet and compliant. I always chose where we went. Most of the time I picked you up and I drove my car. You tried putting on that aloof, Skateboarder thing, but you always dressed so neatly and your hair was perfectly styled,” Aurora explained.
“In fact, when I took you to my hairdresser and talked you into that Platinum blond, Pixie cut you didn’t resist at all. Once, I even took you to my bedroom and I had you brush my hair prior to us making love. Alpha males don’t do the kind of stuff that you would do. I always pegged you as a Beta Boy, Kassima,” Aurora stated.
“In fact, I think I could have easily had you get a perm and begin wearing makeup if I’d cared to? I mean, I even overheard a few of my girlfriends refer to you as Pussy-Whipped and a Sissy,” Aurora shrugged.
“But who cares. You look gorgeous and wow, you are definitely dressed and coiffed very elegantly and glam. You make for a perfect girl, Kassima and I love it, Doll,” Aurora smiled.
“Oh Aurora, I’m so thrilled you said all of that. I always wondered what it would be like if I were a girl? And I even knew then, that only a Sissy would conjure up a scenario such as that,” I agreed.
“I’ve never been so happy and fulfilled since I began to go Femme. And having a boyfriend is simply just so Fabu,” I admitted.
“Oh, here’s our food. You are really eating light honey. Watching your figure?” Aurora asked.
“Oh definitely, Girl. My Fiancé’s sister and my mother are doing all the wedding planning. I think I have a fitting this weekend for my entire Trousseau, including wedding night lingerie? And the minute anything, especially the gown, doesn’t fit properly, I’ll be wearing a corset indefinitely,” I explained.
“Oh wow. So tell me girlfriend. Are you 100% a girl? Or do you still have some boy parts hiding in your panties? I can see you’ve got a nice set of ‘Girls’ popping out of that silk blouse. I know your mom, Nina, mentioned HRT in the letter that accompanied the Holiday card,” Aurora stated.
“I still have my tiny peanuts and my Sissy-Clit. I haven’t made any plans yet for the SRS,” I shrugged.
“So has anyone else contacted you, just yet? Any other girls that you dated?” Aurora asked.
“Yes. At least 3 more girls I dated in High School. Possibly three other girls that I had classes with and socialized with. I can have 6 bridesmaids total I think? You’ll definitely be one,” I promised.
“That’s so very sweet of you, Kassima. You truly are a very, sweet, sweet girl, darling. I believe that you’ll be the perfect, Trophy Bride and Wife for your Darian. I’ll bet he’s devastatingly handsome?” Aurora asked.
“He’s gorgeous. Look. Here’s a photo of him, getting ready to dive into the pool,” I bragged.
“Oh my gracious. He’s an absolute hunk. If you don’t mind my asking. How well is he hung?” Aurora blushed.
“Oh? Very, very well, honey. He’s an absolute beast, when making love. I’m usually screeching, screaming and crying before it’s all over with,” I admitted.
“That’s fabulous, Kassima. How very fortunate you are,” Aurora agreed.
On my return trip to the Bashar mansion, I stopped at Mummy’s. She appeared to be deeply concerned about something. Then she admitted, “Your father finally responded by text, to the Holiday card we sent him. He’ll be calling me very soon, from Hawaii to discuss things. You don’t have to be here for the call if you don’t want to be, Honey. And I’ll refuse to give him your cell number. I absolutely will not permit him to speak to you either, Kassima.”
When the phone rang, mother answered, “Hello Roderick. No Roderick, I did nothing to our son. Because Kassima is no longer a boy, Roderick. She is a girl, and she is our daughter now.”
“That’s correct. In June she is to marry her very strong, manly, assertive, masculine Arabian Husband, who is the perfect man for her. He is perfect because she needs someone who is very assertive and strong to guide her in life. She is the very typical subservient, obedient, Trophy female,” Mother explained.
“No, I will not allow you to speak to her, because you’ll insult her, Roderick. She’s very happy. I’m sorry Roderick I refuse to continue this conversation with you using that sort of language as well as that tone of voice. Goodbye, Roderick,” Mummy said as she reached out to hold me.
“He can never hurt you, Kassima. We won’t allow that,” Mummy promised, just prior to me leaving for the Bashar Beverly Hills Mansion.
Amira was very excited when the day of my Wedding Trousseau fitting came. As she did my hair and makeup, she explained, “Believe it or not, Rula Habib will be here. She wants photos of you. You see, her Corporate Spokesmodel, Sylvia Leonard, is apparently a Transgendered Female.”
“And now, before your Mother Nina, and Ms. Habib, along with her staff arrive, we need to discuss something among ourselves, my darling, future sister, Kassima,” Amira said, as she and I seated ourselves on the rounded sofa in the parlor.
“The style of gowns, along with two-piece tops and dresses, which your mother and I most prefer will expose your flat tummy and your navel, very prominently during the wedding and reception, afterwards. Therefore, along with a few other piercings, we want you to get your belly-button pierced, for a nice, protuberant, Ruby stone,” Amira explained.
“Did you just say, along with a few other piercings?” I asked.
“Yes I did. Darian would prefer you to have both your nipples pierced, with midsized rings of course. Besides the Ruby to be placed in your navel, you’ll look lovely, as the stereotypical submissive bride while wearing the ‘Rings of Subservience,” Amira added.
“What are the Rings of Subservience?” I asked, intrigued.
“You’ll be wearing a set of bracelets upon your ankles and wrists that have an intricate, tight, weaving of silver strands. Along with those, we’ll pierce your nose on the left-side nostril, to hold a large, Gypsy-like hoop. A chain will be linked to the large hoop, and clasped to another, smaller hoop with a new piercing at the very top of your left ear,” Amira went on.
“All of these piercings, especially the golden chain in your nasal hoop, will signify your subservient, promiscuous desire for your husband to ravage you sexually upon your wedding night. Just prior to the ceremony, Darian will come to your bed-chamber, with you still in your lingerie, and he will place, symbolically of course, a Chastity cage around your shrunken genitalia,” Amira stated.
“Naturally, the Chastity cage will be permanently removed just prior to him making love to you. You are very, very fortunate that my brother does not desire that your genitalia be pierced or that you be neutered prior to the marriage ceremony,” Amira assured me.
“This however, is not the time to show any recalcitrance, Kassima. I can see you are deep in thought. A recalcitrant, disobedient, uncooperative bride, is customarily displayed at the ceremony, with her head shaven bald, as well as with shaven eyebrows. That can be quite humiliating, don’t you think?” Amira asked with pursed lips and raised eyebrows.
“Ah? Yes it would be, I would venture to say,” I agreed.
“Will you be doing the piercings?” I asked.
“No, but a specialist at one of my Hollywood salons will be piercing you. It shall be done very privately and for the most part with little or no discomfort,” Amira promised.
“Well then, all that is left to do is wait for Mummy and Ms. Habib to arrive, along with Ms. Habib’s staff,” I smiled.
Mummy arrived, excitedly, just prior to the Habib group showing up. As Mummy seated herself, she ask Amira,” So, did she agree to the piercings that we discussed, earlier?”
“Yes. Those will be completed next Saturday by Ariana at my Hollywood salon,” Amira stated.
The absolutely stunning Rula Habib entered, leading her entourage of designers, alterations staff as well as their assistants. The assistants pushed along apparel carts where gowns, dresses, skirts blouses and lingerie hung on railings. Following behind the assistants and looking unconcerned was a very handsome Arabic male, dressed in business casual. Amira and Rula greeted each other lovingly.
“Oh, my gorgeous Arabian Goddess, you always look so lovely, don’t you?” Rula Habib asked of my Mistress, Amira Bashar, as she kissed her upon both cheeks and directly upon her Carmined lips.
“Oh, please stop? You silly girl? Everything I am attired in happens to be from your collection. Additionally, after all, I am a Cosmetologist? I should look my very best whenever you see me. But a Goddess? Seriously? You are the world renowned fashion model you know?” Amira said, feigning disbelief.
“Oh my. And who is this handsome male? Is this Elijah? Your brother the Tennis Professional? He looks as good in business casual as he does in a pair of tight tennis shorts,” Amira teased.
“I’m so sorry. Ladies? Amira, this is my brother, Elijah Habib. Amira, who are your two, very lovely female friends?” Rula asked.
“Oh my gracious. How very rude of me. Rula, this is Kassima Bronte, my brother’s future bride. And this is her mother, Nina Bronte. Now. Kassima. Into your boudoir please, young lady. Time to both attire yourself in your trousseau, and model it all as well,” Amira demanded.
As I minced, preened, and sashayed throughout the living room, mother and Amira discussed the apparel they approved of and Rula photographed me as she instructed me as if I were a model at a photo shoot. When Darian arrived home from the Golf Course, he and Elijah retired to Darian’s office, to finalize the financial end of the agreement that Amira and Rula had recently made.
In the end, mother, Amira, as well as Rula, agreed that I should wear a long, nearly ankle length, white chiffon skirt, with a matching, spaghetti strap, multi-tiered, crop top, with fussy, frothy, layers of ruffling. The modified, mermaid style skirt, had a cutaway slit, to show plenty of my sleek, waxed legs and stilted ankle-strap heels.
Prior to leaving the mansion, Rula spoke to Mother Nina and me, about an upcoming fall show that she envisioned for Beverly Hills.
“Nina, I want Kassima to stay in touch. I am thinking about an All-Trans-Model showing of my next collection, including bridal attire. Kassima showed me enough discipline and talent today, that I think with a little work we could have her mincing down the catwalk in no time,” Rula stated.
That statement made me feel so very girly, that I simply had to snuggle into Darian’s loving arms to cuddle, and entice him to take me to bed that evening.
Chapter V: The Prince’s Chattel
I was as relaxed as I could possibly be, for anyone that was going to undergo five, separate piercings. I’d taken a Librium on the way to the salon, and another as I entered the very private, Tattoo and Piercing studio at Amira’s Hollywood salon. Ariana decided to begin with my Navel Piercing.
I was laying naked, upon the piercing table, as Ariana rubbed a jelly-like numbing agent all over my tummy and belly button area. Then she took a long needle filled with Novocain and selectively numbed me all over, prior to taking the piercing tool and making an opening large enough to impregnate the area with a long stud.
“We’ll keep this area treated with antiseptics, prior to inserting the post that will hold the Ruby Stone. Now let’s do your nipples, Kassima,” Ariana stated.
Once my nipples were numbed and pierced, Ariana pierced my left nostril and the top of my left ear. As the wedding was less than a month away, Amira decided that it was a good time to do my Wedding “Do,” as after all, we were at one of her salons. Once the shampoo girl had washed and creme rinsed my hair, she took me to a very private treatment room, where Amira began my cutting.
She trimmed very little, from my very, dark, brunette, inverted, asymmetrical Bobbed hair, prior to picking up her electric clippers. It briefly occurred to me that my head and eyebrows were about to be shaved, for some untold reason.
“I dearly want you to keep all of your length, Kassima. So I’m going to undercut your Bob in the back and on the sides. The hair will lay down differently. Then, I’m going to perm it. For the wedding I’m going to give you a fabulous, very full, curly Updo,” Amira promised as she undercut and clippered my Bobbed tresses, all the way around.
When she had completed the shaving of my nape and sides, she began to roll my hair on midsized perm rods, with a moderately tight wrap. As I looked into the mirror and looked at myself with the cotton gauze wrapping, and my hair in powder blue colored rods, I simply felt so girlish and feminine. It truly was a mildly erotic, if not helpless feeling of emasculation.
Amira was doing her very best to prettify me in order that her brother would sexually ravage me upon the evening of our marriage. Indeed, when she sat me under the dryer, the lead article of the copy of “La Femme Allure” she handed me, was titled, “How to keep your man sexually satisfied and completely interested in you at bedtime.”
The evening prior to the wedding, I sat naked at my vanity as Amira set my hair on medium, pink, plastic curlers. I could see the golden hoops attached to each of my nipples. I’d been wearing the Ruby stone, attached by a metal hoop and temporarily glued to my navel. The small hoop, a 4th piercing in my left ear was in place. A small hoop was also in my left nostril. In the morning it was to be replaced by a excessively large Gypsy style hoop.
When Amira had completed my roller set she put a pink net over it and said, “Remain seated. My brother will be in shortly, my darling girl.”
Darian entered my boudoir after a light knock, saying, “Stand for me, my Concubine.”
I stood, in my Marabou heels as he held a Chastity cage. He slid the flexible plastic end over my tiny Cockette. Then the stainless steel mesh cage was fastened over my shrunken testes. He snapped the lock shut and placed the key and the chain, around his neck.
“I’ll remove it when I take you to bed and make you my wife for real. It is all obviously useless to anyone but me,” he said kissing me forcefully on my lips.
The wedding and reception was to take place at the Mansion. Some woman that Mummy Nina and Amira knew, that they referred to as Madame Jacinta, would be presiding. Both Mummy Nina and Amira had written our vows. At the very least, my paddling would not occur until Darian and I were in our private, honeymoon, Grand Casa.
As they dressed me, with my hair still up in curlers, Mummy and Amira giggled when they placed the uplift bra over my tits. The brassiere had openings so that my nipple rings would show through my diaphanous, spaghetti strap, midriff top. Mother removed the small ring from my nose and placed the large hoop into the piercing hole.
Then she attached the woven, gold chain between the large hoop in my nose and the small hoop at the top of my left ear. With the largest sized vaginal dilator in my rectum, and all my piercings, it would be difficult for me to forget that I was truly owned by Darian. I was seated as Amira took the curlers from my locks, and fashioned a masterpiece of a heavily curled Updo.
Then, she carefully placed the Hot-Pink Hijab over my upswept, heavily sprayed tresses, making certain that my curled pompadour and my waved bangs showed. My brilliant crimson lipstick glimmered in the vanity lights and my smoky eye shadow and mascara made me appear an exotic, Arabic Harem Girl.
I minced to the altar on Mummy Nina’s arm, with my Maid of honor, Amira and my six bridesmaids, including Aurora, smiling and in place. I was enveloped in a miasma of perfumes and any number of copious scents. I lowered my eyes as Darian’s eyes met mine. I was forever his subservient bride.
William served as Darian’s best man, with six other groomsmen. I was in a trance. I knew I was to curtsey to both Madame Jacinta and Darian. And I did. I heard Madame Jacinta ask, “Who gives this girl away?” And Mummy answered, “I do.”
But the rest of the ceremony was a blur. I know that my memorized vows included me swearing my love, honor, obedience, fidelity and loyalty to Darian. I know that Darian vowed to care for and protect me. However the entire ceremony as well as the reception was as if it were a dream I was having, and I was walking in my sleep.
The very first conscious memory of the marriage that I have, even today, was getting into the chauffeured, Aramco Limo and heading to LAX for our flight to Flagstaff, Arizona, on a private, Aramco jet. There, we would be taken by another Private Limo, to our Grande Casa at a resort in Sedona, Arizona.
On the drive to LAX, I felt terrifically needy and cuddled cloyingly with Darian. I reached to his crotch and felt a very hardened penis. Sighing I asked, “Do we have to wait until we are in Sedona, darling?”
“Of course not, Kassima my Princess, just unzip me and masturbate me. Don’t you always carry lube in your purse?” Darian asked.
“Yes I do darling,” I agreed.
The Aramco Limo drivers very likely, frequently saw sexual frolicking in the back of Limos between Execs and prostitutes. And what is a Trophy wife, but a Pampered, Married Prostitute?
Midway thru masturbating my lover, I realized that things could get very messy, so I asked, “Could I suck you off, my love? I just don’t want to get semen stains all over your dress slacks.”
Darian agreed, and I lowered my head and took the full-length and girth of his cock into my mouth. Oh how wonderfully succulent his penis always was. It was such a pleasure and an honor for my manly husband Darian, to permit me to give him a blow job. I got chills simply thinking about the fact that I was now married to this amazing man.
I sucked away happily and mindlessly, until his cock swelled and his salty sperm gushed into my mouth. It was on the flight to Flagstaff, after I gargled with mouthwash, that I leaned against Darian to once again cuddle. It was then, that he began to tell me the story of my emasculation, not only at his and Amira’s wishes, but at behest of my mother, Nina.
“When your mother divorced your father and began dating William, she came in touch with a Sisterhood of women, who believe in the feminization and domination of obviously, effeminate males who would live their lives more happily as Sissified Females,” Darian began.
“Nina came into contact with these ladies thru my sister, Amira, who had met them thru her business dealings with Rula Habib. To both Amira and your mother Nina, you were an obvious candidate for complete and thorough, emasculation. I have always had a sexual penchant for dainty and delightful Sissy Bois, and so I agreed to assist,” Darian proceeded.
“Little did I realize how sensual a Sissy you would become. So much so, that I’d eventually desire a long term relationship with you. It is here that I need to tell you that though my parents could look the other way when I dabbled romantically with a darling little swish, marriage to an effeminate changeling was beyond the scope of their approval,” Darian sighed.
“Therefore they refused to attend our wedding or meet you until you are completely a female. I have already told them that the decision to completely transition is fully up to you. It is their loss my love,” Darian nodded.
“I should also mention my dear Kassima, that the Latina who conducted our ceremony, Madame Jacinta, is a Grand High Priestess in that mysterious society which is named the Cassandra Sisterhood. I had the privilege of granting her a great favor and she bestowed upon me the title of Grand Wiccan, in their society,” Darian explained.
“As the wedding today had to appear to be a conventional union, due to most of the attendees not understanding the mysterious rites of the society, I still must subject you to a ritual paddling when we arrive at our Grande Casa in Sedona,” Darian added.
“I think that will be wonderful for you to paddle me darling. I should be made to realize I can be punished for being disobedient. Will you tie me to one of the bedposts and after you paddle me, will you Fuck my Sissy-Ass-Pussy until I faint, my lover?” I cooed.
“Oh, and what favor did you perform for your lovely Latina Priestess, my handsome Wiccan? I gushed.
“Oh? Well Jacinta’s daughter, Mariel, was seeing a truly abusive young man, who exerted quite a bit of control over the girl. I was able, thru my connections, to make him disappear for a time,” Darian explained.
“Oh my? Really?” I gasped, girlishly.
“Oh, not permanently. In fact, the young wastrel is actually a part of Jacinta’s household staff these days. You see, my associates abducted him and transported him to a Sheik’s Harem. There he was gelded and made into an Eunuch. Though, the Harem girls found him to be so pretty, that they began to dress, coif and paint him to be one of them. The Sissy’s name is now Serena, and ‘She’ is a junior ladies maid for Madame Jacinta,” Darian winked.
“Oh what a wonderful story. And what a sexy wink you just gave me. Oh Darian, hold me, please? I never want to be separated from you ever, my sexy man,” I simpered.
We finally did arrive at our Grande Casa in Sedona, Arizona. Once the chauffeur had brought our bags in, I went to the bar to pour both Darian and myself a Peach Brandy on the rocks. I was still dressed in my entire wedding ceremony regalia, including my hot-pink Hijab. As was customary, when wearing a Hijab in Darian’s presence I could not remove the Hijab from my head unless specifically told to do so by my Master, Darian.
In fact, I’d sucked Darian’s cock during the first limo ride while wearing my Hijab. I then sat across Darian’s lap, one arm around him, my other hand holding my drink. I asked, “What would Daddy like his little girl to do?”
“Finish off your Brandy, and I’ll finish mine. Then I want you to strip to your heels, stockings, and garter belt. You may remove your Hijab. Amira tells me she did this fabulous, sexy, ‘Do’ for the wedding. I’d like to see it before I ravage you and make your hair and makeup an absolute mess,” Darian said.
We went to the main bedroom of the Casa Grande, where most of our luggage was. I stood partly naked, my tits and genitalia exposed, looking like a Stripper in my hose, tall heels and garters. Darian was completely naked. From a briefcase he removed a length of chain. He led me to one of the posts, of the four-post, canopy covered bed.
He latched an open link of the chain to one of my tit-nipple rings. Putting me against the post, he wrapped the chain once around the post before linking the chain to my other tit-nipple ring. I was now effectively bound to the bed post. However he wasn’t through with my bondage.
He took the silk necktie he’d worn for travel and tied it to one of my wrists. Then he looped it over the very top of the post, wrapped it around twice and then tied the free end to my other wrist. Now I was very, seriously bound up as if I were a sex slave, in my very own Honeymoon, Casa Grande.
“I have decided not to paddle you or hairbrush spank you, Kassima. No, I have decided to whip your ass and thighs with my leather belt.” Darian stated as my body was overwhelmed with cool, shivering chills of passion, excitement and sexuality. I trembled eagerly with the thought of being whipped by my new husband and Master.
“Oh yes. Please, please, do whip me my Wonderful Master? Oh yes please do? I deserve it for even thinking of myself as worthy of having any sort of sex with you. But, if indeed you desire to fuck your silly bitch senseless, then please do whip my very, naughty ass red and raw,” I begged pathetically.
I truly hoped he would gag me first so that I might squeal helplessly through whatever he stuffed into my mouth. I felt his hands roaming over my quivering, tight, well-rounded sissy ass. Next, I could feel the soft, Kid-leather, as he touched the belt gently against my plump buttocks. Without any warning at all, he struck my ass sharply with the full force of his thick, leather belt.
I screeched out, frighteningly, as my body jerked and spasmed. It was such a delicious feeling as once again Darian’s belt made sharp, direct contact. This time with one of my shapely thighs. At that moment, as my body quaked, I could feel the slight dribble of a little, Sissy-Creamy, emitting from my useless clit.
My breathing became full and rapid at the thrill of being beaten like a slave, while being trussed-up like a prisoner in a dungeon. I could feel my true worthlessness as Darian’s belt cracked against my hairless, moisturized, baby-smooth skin.
At long last, with drool and slobber dribbling from my wet, freshly painted lips, I sobbed as he ceased to whip me, and he held me against his warm, sensuous body. I then felt his gooey fingers enter my rectum and I now knew he would next fuck me. It was then I wished I also possessed a real pussy for him to fuck.
His fingers probed my rectum very carefully, as Darian distributed the lubricant thoroughly, throughout the inner walls of my throbbing anus. I hugged the bedpost maniacally to my pierced and chained bosom and gripped the upper knob where my wrists were tied.
As Darian’s hardened penis began to enter my Sissy-Ass-Pussy, I again embraced the idea and longed for my very own lady’s vagina. My stubby clit was extended from the sensual feelings coursing through me. I pushed back against Darian as he entered me, wanting very terribly to have his swollen member deep within me.
As his cock eased its way in, I began to moan and gyrate, and shove my ass backward to meet Darian’s manly thrusts. As Darian grunted, I squealed nearly deliriously. The excitement of having my ass flogged with a leather belt, while my hands were tied overhead, and as I was chained at my nipples to the bedpost, was far, far, too much to allow me to control my hysterical emotions.
As Darian’s sperm jetted into my anal cavity, I very nearly fainted into a dizzying swoon. Sweat poured off of my smooth waxed legs. Fortunately my gorgeous, curled, upswept Bouffant was so very, very, heavily lacquered, that it remained reasonably intact. Darian’s manly seed streamed down both of my well-shaped legs.
My mascara dripped down my cheeks. Darian bit my neck and my entire body shivered in lust. As he unchained my nipples and unbound my wrists, I threw my arms around him and kissed him passionately.
“Oh thank you so very, very, much my Daddy. You purged the stains from this wicked slut’s innermost being, by whipping her. Might we lay in bed, kiss and cuddle and enjoy this moment as Master and wife?” I asked.
Two weeks? Two very passionate weeks of sex, sensual lust, and depraved passion, in the mountains of Arizona. A dream come true.
The End
You may contact the author at:
priscillagaybouffant@gmail.com
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