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Friends United

By: Tomsparty



I'd been best friends with Brad since coming to the US from England as a child. We met at school and since those early years did everything together. He was very outgoing whereas I was passive. Now in our thirties we are still best of friends and even work in the same company. Brad loved motorcycles and ran a successful Harley Davidson parts distribution business. We where supposed to be partners but he made most of the decisions. Not many relationships last that long and involve spending so much time together. Neither of us had married. Brad was the more successful dater. With his large physique and good looks he had the choice of any woman. I on the other hand was not so well endowed. One could say rather slim and effeminate looking but despite our chalk and cheese looks nothing seemed to dampen our friendship.

We both lived in the same town and if Brad wasn't dating saw each other most nights. But despite this great friendship I wanted more. Over the years I had grown to respect him, even love him. I wanted to say so but with no known gay tendencies I risked such an omission would lose him forever. 

One night he invited me back for a coffee after we had been out for a few beers - we weren't drunk but merry. We listened to CDs and sat on the same sofa while Brad flicked the channels of the TV, the volume turned down.

'We got to sort your love life out Tomi boy,' he said. 'You haven't laid a bird for months.'

I smirked and felt my face blush. 'I can't seem to find the right woman.' I said.

'Your trouble is you don't know what you want.'

I shrugged my shoulders. Perhaps he was right.

'Tomi, I think you're looking too far a field. We get on well, you want to find someone with my personality.'

My heart freezes and I can't help but look at him with sullen eyes.

He seems my response and looks at me strangely. I say nothing. A minutes passes in silence.

'You don't...,' he says as his mouth almost drops to the floor. 'You don't fancy me.'

I stare at him like a lost child and feel a tear welling in my eye well aware that our relationship was about to end. 'Got to go I say grabbing my coat and running for the door.

Brad rung the following day on my mobile but I didn't reply. I didn't even go into work. I couldn't face seeing him again even if he wanted to. I was in a terrible state. One that I don't like to admit - crying and missing him like a lovesick teenager. My world was torn apart. I was in pain racked with formidable emotional waves. Should I be feeling this way if he didn't see me in the same light? He persisted and rung again after work, I didn't answer. He knocked at my flat and I pretended to be out. I rung in sick. We didn't see each other all week.

That Friday I was at a loss. I had no one to see or nowhere special to go. I walked around the town, hands in pockets feeling sorry for myself. I mused over my situation - I made the break so I shouldn't feel this way and yet I felt abandoned, unloved. I gazed forlornly into the shop window of a ladies fashion boutique so fascinated by all the pretty dresses I didn't hear the footsteps behind me. Suddenly I felt two large hands clamped over my eyes - I thought I was about to be robbed.

'Guess who?' the deep voice growls.

It was easy. 'Hi Brad,' I say sheepishly expecting the worst but he made no mention of the other night. It was as if nothing had happened - I was delighted. He asked me if I was feeling better and he bought me a beer. I'm not sure what was more frustrating. Did I want him to confess to similar feelings or call me a fag and punch me in the face? But saying nothing about the other night was sheer torture.

Later that evening as we chatted and drunk another beer I asked him about his latest girlfriend, Donna.

'I ditched the bitch,' he said calmly. She got too possessive and I saw alarm bells. I haven't heard from her since.' He laughs, 'I've still got a wardrobe full of her stuff - panties, bra, shoes and dresses - the works. What woman does that? I'll miss the bitch.' he sighs, 'still plenty more fish in the sea.'

'I'm surprised,' I said, 'you two got on so well I thought you'd get hitched.'

Brad laughs again and scratches his groin in that masculine way.

'No worries. I treat women like library books - put them back when done. 

'Anyone else?' I ask inquisitively.

'Funny you ask.' he grins like a schoolboy, ' I met another girl. Tracey, she was a stunner, long smooth legs, big tits, painted manicured fingernails and a tiny waist. Very similar to my old Donna, they could have been sisters. She had the looks and knew it she teased me on the night flashing her cleavage and showing off her legs in a skimpy tight skirt. Tight bitch accepted my drinks all night then refused to come home with me. I persevered, made another date but then she didn't bother to turn up.' He looked at me quizzically. 'I'm through with birds I think I need to find some other way of enjoying myself.' he gave me a knowing smile and clutched his growing groin again.

My mind went into overdrive. What did he mean? Was he giving me the come on?... Whatever I was determined not to make a fool of myself again so I remained silent.

Very little else was said, life returned to normal. Brad never mentioned my confession and I didn't bring up the subject ever again. But things did change between us. Slowly at first barely recognisable. He would touch me occasionally and... wrestle. We hadn't wrestled since school and though I enjoyed rolling on the floor with this big guy I was no competition as his great weight and powerful muscles always had me pinned defenceless. He would throw me on my back and straddle me like a horse resting his muscular knees on my forearms pinning my hands above my head with his hands. It was quite intimidating and yet I often got excited and I noticed when I looked up as he towered over me he had too. He wouldn't release me until I cried for submission. Did I like it? I loved it and Brad seemed to enjoy throwing his weight around being the master and though I never said it I loved being the submissive.

He began to flex his muscle by being more demanding by setting silly tasks. Initially his quests where quite minor. Get me a coffee, buy me a sandwich, order me a beer. I think my fear of abandonment made me behave in irrational ways. I bought into some romantic nonsense of 'happy ever after' and wanted to please so I obliged and this made him worse feeding his growing bossy habit like a drug. I should have refused but I felt he was testing me and I didn't want to disappoint. At work he began to delegate demeaning tasks to me as if I was some young junior and justify them to me in a patronising manner. He would make me stand in front of him as he told me my duties for the day. Then At the end of the day I had to report back and state the things I didn't do or did wrong and what I had learnt from them. He said it was for my own self-improvement and if they were fresh on my mind I'd be less likely to repeat the mistakes and I knew what to do the following day. It was all very demeaning. I never had a problem with time management or my work rate and yet here I was being watched like a school leaver. I was a conscientious worker. We had started out as equal partners but now the relationship was one sided and yet.... I never complained. 

He became sure of his power over me and he became more manipulating. He even made me ask him for permission to go to the toilet when at work. I didn't object but he gave some cock and bull storey about one of us having to man the phones all the time. He was becoming a manipulator and I seemed powerless to stop him. Over the following weeks the situation went from bad to worse and I even began to doubt our friendship. I found myself washing his car, cleaning his flat, buying his weekly groceries, cooking and doing his washing. 

The final straw came when one day I wasn't able to do my chores and he playfully spanked me with a wooden hairbrush. Instead of wrestling me to the floor he hauled me over his knee and spanked me. It was not too hard but just enough to let me know who was in control. It was humiliating and I told him so but he seemed undeterred as if to say 'so what!' As much as I hated myself he could tell by my constant little erections that I was enjoying the charade rather too much. From that moment on, ever so slowly my world began to change.

My life didn't seem to belong to me anymore and I wasn't really getting anything in return. On one rare occasion of showing some affection he bought me a bracelet. It was weird, made of silver, bit feminine. He called it a lucky charm bracelet and he insisted that I wore it all the time. 

Brad still would date and I found it hard not to be jealous yet when ever I said I was going out he would put up an obstacle such as an errand or favour he wanted me to perform for him. Over time many of my friends became infuriated with Brad and his rudeness and consequently lost interest. This made matters worse as I now found myself dependant on Brad even more so.

It all came to a head when I had some painters in to decorate my flat. I know it sounds girlish but I hate the smell of paint so I asked Bard if I could crash at his that night. He wasn't particularly keen as he had a date - some new tart he'd picked up at a garage. He stroked his beard thoughtfully and agreed but made me promise to stay in the spare room and not make a sound. Apparently He didn't want to put the lucky lady off as he didn't think she would think well of him if another bloke was in his flat even if just for the night. 

I got round his place about eight just as he was preparing to go out. He showed me to the spare room, gave me some rubber gloves and a duster and he told me to tidy it. It wasn't decorated like a conventional spare room but was sparsely furnished with just a single bed and a wardrobe. The walls where white and the floor was littered with boxes and, what looked like rubbish. 

I found some spare sheets in the airing cupboard and made up the bed. After he had gone I busied myself tidying up and making my bed. In doing so I found a large cardboard box tied with a red ribbon. For some strange reason I felt compelled to open it. Now, I'm not normally nosy but don't ask me why but I felt compelled to look inside. I thought it might contain photos of Brad and I when we where at school. I was wrong, very wrong. Inside was a collection of items that took my breath away. A pair of sexy, black lace panties and a matching bra and a length of course rope and official steel handcuffs. This surprised me enough but didn't prepare me for what I found underneath, a formidable rubber cock attached to a harness and what looked like a ball gag and a mask. I shut the box in terror but after I'd cleaned the room to Brad's instructions I took off my rubber gloves and couldn't resist going through it one more time. I was fascinated. Who did the things belong too? It was too obvious Brads so I assumed it belonged to his ex girlfriend Donna. As I leaf through the things I heard a key in the latch. Like a startled fawn I jump into bed and turn out the light. I lay as quite as a mouse listening to Brad's deep voice and that of a giggling girl. I roll my eyes inside my head as I had hoped he wouldn't have pulled. I listen to them talk but could only make out the odd word as Brad put n a CD. Next thing I knew the talking stopped and the moaning began. Sexual Olympics or what? They made a tremendous racket, screaming and moaning and I head what sounded like furniture moving about. After about an hour it went suddenly quite and I smelt cigarette smoke. They had stopped and I was just drifting off to sleep when I heard his bed creaking next door. The bedpost knocked against the wall and the springs creaked eerily. I couldn't believe that they where at it again. Brad went on for what seemed like hours as I just lay there in the bed listening to his antics. All of a sudden it went quite and I heard scurrying outside in the hall and then the slamming of a door. Silence, I laid awake scared to make a noise, hoping she hadn't heard me. Then my door creaks open and a crack of light splashes into the room. It was Brad dressed in his boxers with a huge hard on.

'Wondered if you slept,' he said. 'Did I keep you awake?' I ignored the question.

'She gone?' I asked. 

He nodded somewhat sadly.

'Didn't you offer to take her home?' I said.

He grinned. 'She was in a hurry to go. I offered to take her in the morning but she was sore.' He laughed, 'could you believe it, the tart couldn't take it.' He then stepped into my room and I noticed he was holding two cups of coffee. He gave one to me and sat on the bed to drink it. Mine tasted rather strange but when I questioned him he said he'd topped it with some whisky to help me sleep -I had no reason to question him.

It worked as only moments later I began to feel incredibly drowsy. I can't really remember what happened next but he saw the cardboard box and noticed a glint of embarrassment in my eye.

'You found one of my boxes?' he said.

I wanted to say no but somehow I found myself mouthing yes and taking off the lid. Next thing I knew I had my inquisitive fingers in the box for the second time fingering the skimpy panties and bra as if they where mine.

Brad noticed and he picked up the rubber ball gag.

'I've never seen one of them,' I say and immediately realise my stupidity. He leaps upon me to wrestle and I struggle to free myself but half entwined amongst the bed sheets my legs are powerless and he's soon straddling me like he does but this time he's slipping the rubber neckpiece over my head. 

'If you've never tried one you really should give it a go,' he chuckles and without waiting for me to reply he thrust the ball into my mouth. Inadvertently I open wide as if at the dentist and he forced the rubber ball deep into my mouth prising my teeth apart and my tongue to the back of my throat. I taste rubber and struggle to break free but Brad is far too heavy and powerful for me and he clicks the gags securing lock in place with a resounding snap. I'm a prisoner, trapped, speechless, unable to utter a distinguishable sound - the ball gag locked around my head as if a medieval helmet, I can't remove it even if I tried.

'I'm the master now,' he says gleefully. 'You may call me Master Brad.'

'Let me go. I want to go to sleep,' I scream but all Brad can hear is an inaudible cry.

'I knew you'd like it,' he cries oblivious to my discomfort and pushes me back onto the bed with a fist. 

'What's next?' he says rummaging back in the box, 'let me see!' He selects the sexy lingerie between his massive thumb and forefinger; there size reducing the skimpy panties to mere wisps of material.

'I saw you admiring these earlier,' he said yanking my T-shirt over my head. I was powerless, my head dizzy, unable to cry out and incredibly weak. Physically drained, my mind spinning from the effect of the whisky laced coffee I couldn't stop him wrapping the bra around my chest and clicking it securely in place. I feebly struggle in a vain attempt to twist it off but he grips my slender arms in a vice-like hold and forces them through the spaghetti like shoulder straps. Bra in place my torso takes on an immediate transformation I twist, I squirm, try to shout but Brad simply smirks like a successful bounty hunter and snaps the heavy handcuffs on my tiny wrists like bracelets. I pull my arms apart in anger, the chain clinking as they spring taut, reducing my movements to a few meagre centimetres. Despondent and defeated I flop back on the bed. Brad grins triumphantly, rubs his beard thoughtfully and whips the bed sheets off me exposing my briefs and long smooth legs.

'Who's a pretty girl,' he sneers, his eyes scanning my shapely limbs. 'This lacy bra is so becoming. It really is you. You must wear one more often, I don't know why I hadn't thought of it before.' 

My eyes widen in shame and I emit a long blood-curling wail but Brad ignores my pleas and rummages in a draw. He finds some old socks and roughly stuffs then into the cups giving my body an enviable hourglass figure. I could tell by the broad grin on his face and the growing bulge in his boxers that he was pleased.

I sob like a child and tears run down my face. Why? I ask myself, why?

'I want you to dress for me,' he said throwing me the black lace panties and silk seamed stockings. 'You've a body that obviously is destined to be a girls.'

He loomed over me chuckling as I lay bound and gagged before him like a science project awaiting experimentation. I was terrified - my best friend had a hidden evil streak within and I was powerless to escape. 

Thinking quickly, I decided the best course of action was to pander to his bullying whim and hope he would soon tire of this game and go to sleep. So my head all drowsy I remained on the bed, slipped off my briefs and stepped into the panties. I felt my face blush as I slid them up my hairless legs and the lace frill scratched and tickled. With my hands clamped together, pulling them up my legs was incredibly difficult but this seemed to delight Brad more so and he watched in fascination as I struggled and squirmed in a vain attempt to retain some modesty. 'I'm not going to help you,' he grins and I stare back furiously carefully pulling the skimpy material up my legs until my cock was covered in the pretty lace and silk.

'Who's beautiful my little slave girl,' he said with a menacing growl. 'You look so angelic, an English rose in my bed of thorns. Don't you feel better wearing your own pretty underwear.'

I nod sadly... And strangely that was the truth, as racked with humiliation the silk panties felt remarkably cool and comforting and the bra deliciously sexy. Despite the bizarre situation I felt hot and turned on. I shook my hips and bent at the waist so that the soft panties stretched over my curves like a second skin.

'Don't forget your stockings, Tomi?' Brad said feeding a matching black lace suspender belt under me.

I moaned and gagged on the rubber ball then gathered a stocking in my hands and fed a trembling toe into the soft Lycra, Then it happened - my tiny cock began to stiffen and it grew harder and harder as I slid the slinky stocking up my leg. I hoped Brad didn't notice but as I fastened the second one to my suspender belt straps, he saw it.

The smile on his face stretched from ear to ear and I thought his eyes might pop out of his head. 'Well, well Tomi, you may mentally not want to wear these things but your pathetic little erection is saying something very different. 

I nod and stretched out before him as if on an operating table he gently stroked my face. His wandering hands the travelled down cupping my perky breasts, stroking my flat tummy, jumping over my groin and sliding over my smooth legs. He fingers the Lycra between a thumb and forefinger then bounces back to my pantie where his huge hand cups what looks like a feminine mound. He gently squeezes my cock and I let out a feminine squeal. 'Isn't this what you want? It will be like your dream.' My cock still cupped in his hand he leans over me, I smell his strong aftershave and he whispered in my ear. 'I know you want it, Tomi, you can't deny it, you as good as told me.' He was shaking now, and I wanted to explain but he had unfairly gagged me making any speech imposable.

Why was he playing with me this way? He was so cruel toying masterfully with my emotions, exercising power over me. So many questions I wanted to ask but now my life had complicated and it seemed all my own fault. I shouldn't have been so honest, I shouldn't have offered to do his chores. A tear runs down my face and Brad looks down at me pitifully. Why was he doing this? Why was he behaving in this way? It seems for now he wasn't going to divulge.


Friends United



'Well, well my sissy friend you're enjoying this rather too much. But since you're here looking so pretty and I'm incredibly hungry lets complete the picture and get you a dress. He opens the closet that was brimming with ladies clothes. He selected a sexy short mini dress. 'This was Donnas and I'm sure its your size. Get up and put it on!'

I whimper like a lost dog as I swung my legs off the bed, my nylons rasping loudly. My stockinged feet on the floor, Brad roughly grabbed my bound hands and hoisted me up like a carcass of meat at a butchers. The handcuffs bite into my tiny wrists and I moan pathetically but my obvious discomfort seems to encourage Brad like petrol on a fire. I shake my head and bite into the rubber ball gag as if it was an apple but all my struggling is to no avail. When will this charade stop I muse as standing in the sexy lingerie I tremble nervously and hug my legs together. Brad smiled like a possessed devil and pressed the dress to my shoulders. Pleased with the selection he held it open and I nervously stepped inside. Standing in his spare room in the sexy lingerie with the dress around my ankles I felt incredibly strange - I felt as if something within be had been woken, I felt submissive and feeble. I felt willing and open to anything Brad would suggest.

'You really are pathetic.' he says as I look down at my feminised body, 'you hardly put up a struggle or complained. You as good as volunteered.'

I shook my head and whimpered rattling my handcuffs like the trapped prisoner I was.

'You're secretly loving every minute and yet your plea full eyes and pathetic whimpering tell quite a different story.

Its true I wanted Brads attention but this wasn't what I had in mind. I shook my hips and wiggled as I pulled the slinky material up over my thighs. It was a little too small and though Brad was able to fix the halter neck behind me it didn't fit quite right and I could have done with a larger size. I showed much too much leg and the material stretched unflatteringly over my chest. I looked like a cheap tart unable to afford a new dress.

Brad was not pleased. 'You fat, lardy slag,' he says. 'You're too big. You're arse is too fat and your waist is to big.'

This was plainly not true. I was already under weight, with a tiny waist and not an ounce of extra fat. 

'I've got loads of clothes for you my slave girl but you'll have to lose a few pounds and drop a dress size if you're to dress for me.' 

I blush and try to cry out but the gag is completely filling my mouth. Next thing I know he's dug out a pair of high heels from the cupboard and thrown them in front of me. I hold the wall for support and slip them on my feet. I straighten and totter around the room precariously.

'Walk for me' he barks. 'Walk like a catwalk model.' 

Walk! I could hardly stand and I stagger in the towering heels terrified I might break an ankle. He then slips the blindfold over my head and darkness closes around me... I tremble totally at his mercy.

'I hope you're making a mental list slave girl. You've got lots of practice to do before I take you out.'

Out! Alarm bells began to sound in my head surely he wouldn't, would he? But my question went unanswered as he walked around me examining my every curve, lifting the hem of my dress, his beady eyes tearing into my bottom. 

'And talking of practice let's see how accommodating you are.' He slaps me on the head and playfully punches me in the stomach. I double up and he easily pushes me to the floor. Disorientated and in a state of shock he pulls me over the bed like a rag doll, my knees on the floor and with my hands stretched before me. Brad presses my head into the sheets as with his free hand he slides the light material of my skirt up over my thighs. I breathe in the fresh smell of linen as I hear him draw a sharp breath. 'Not bad,' he gasps and with my skirts high on my back he slaps my buttocks hard, not once but twice. I smart and a tear wells in my eye as he slowly draws my panties down my knees as if unveiling a masterpiece.

I then discover how cold lubricant can be as he smears my arse with a generous dollop using his stubby finger. Deeper and deeper he probes with his digit until I've swallowed him up to the knuckle. My eyes are watering into the blindfold now but in addition to the humiliation the sensation is quite pleasant and a I push back onto his hand as with the other hand he fondles my tiny cock like a cunt and rather than stiffen I feel my self go embarrassingly flaccid.

'Oh! You are a sissy tart,' he cries and he pulls his finger out with a plop. I sigh as I thought my ordeal was over but then I felt him thrusting his groin onto my bottom and then something hot and incredibly hard. I gasp as he presses his huge cock against my muscle and the though I'm tight it allows him to enter me with pressure. He was so huge I couldn't take him down. Again he growls crossly. 

'I'm sorry,' I mumble but he can't hear me and in frustration he hooks my handcuffed wrists over a nail in the wall. He then whisks off the blindfold crossly. I screw my eyes adjusting to the light and he seems to enjoy the look of terror on my face. My own eyes widen and I brace myself expecting him to force himself deeper into me but instead, to my surprise the light flicks on. I turn my head to the door mystified as to how Brad could turn the light on and have the tip of his cock inside me.

It was his Donna, dressed in only a skimpy, semi-transparent, babydoll. 'Hello Tomi,' she said looking me up and down.

I want to explain and wonder if she had scene Brad entering me from behind.

'Oh Brad,' she said. 'I thought you where joking when you said you had a sissy slave girl.' 

Brad grins proudly and stands sliding his cock back into his boxers. 

She seems totally unfazed by me dressed in lingerie, high heels and a dress, with my skirt over my back and my panties round my knees or what Bras was trying to do.

'She's a new model and I'm running her in.' Brad says jovially, 'she's a bit tight and I want you to help. I obviously can't teach her all your girly things.' He grins, 'but I'm sure you can.'

I look pitifully at Donna in a hope she might laugh at Brad and tell him to release me, but no...

'He's so sweet, and so pretty, you have done well Brad,' she says twiddling a lock of my hair into a tiny curl. 'He's perfect.'

Brad looks less enthusiastic. 'Lets not get carried away, Donna. He's quite good at performing routine tasks but he has yet to excel in other special duties. This is where I need your help. It takes a girl to teach another girl the feminine way I can't possibly be expected to know that can I? He sneered and I could tell he would get his way.

I was right. It was an easy task for him to enlist Donna in my training and she seemed pleased to help. 'Now pay close attention, I'm going to show you how to walk in those heels. You see Tomi; take small steps, one foot in front of the other oh! And don't forget to sway your bottom back and forth and swing those hips that's vitally important.'

Brad coughs and looks impatient.

'That's not what you mean is it, Brad,' she says slipping off her panties.

Brad grins and hands her the strap on dildo from the box. I freeze as she giggles and fastens it around her bottom as if dressing to go out. The rubber dildo sticks out horizontally like an old canon in a man of war ready for battle. Half-hidden, she flicks it through her floaty nightdress and it bops up and down menacingly. Brad pushes me back onto the floor and twists me to face the bed. I press against it and my throat dries with anticipation.

'On your knees, Donna,' Brad says gesturing her to crouch behind me. I struggle to see what's going on but manage to glimpse Brad crouching behind her as she expertly applies more lubricant to the dildo.

'OK Tomi', she says, 'first thinks first you have to tease your man,' and as she talks she bends down over me, her breasts jiggling on my back. 'Wiggle you're arse baby,' she squeals flicking her pert bottom to and thro. I simply stare ago and for my slow response she slaps my bottom hard. 

'Wiggle your arse,' Brad screams. 'You heard the lady.' 

I do as I'm told and we both conga fashion wiggle our butts to Brad who kneels behind us mesmerised.

'Then when he's good and hot show him what treats you've got,' she says and with both hands she prises her soft peach like cheeks apart. My butt still smarting from the previous slap I follow suit. 'Good girl,' Donna cries. 'Now lick your lips, toss your head backwards and call him by his name. Show him that you want him, tell him that you care, extol the virtues of his huge cock. Tell him how lucky you are to be receiving him.

'You may call me Master brad, Tomi.' Brad growls, 'call me master Brad.'

I nod fearfully and mumble his name. Master Brad.

'Let me stop you there,' Donna says as if instructing a student. 'Show a bit more enthusiasm and a little less whimpering your job is too please and you're not going about it the right way.' 

I mumble an apology.

'Next push your sweet arse towards his hungry cock, keeping your cheeks apart.' Then as if proving her point she bends and slowly guides her bum to Brads patiently waiting cock at the same time she guided my rubber cock to my less than willing hole. 'Now feel it on your muscle?' I nod and Brad smiles. 'Relax sweetie. Be at ease accept the inevitable. Now push back as he pushes, help it in. Let it glide into your eager hole and nestle between you cheeks. Now gasp, cry out, play act if required but let him know you're there waiting for his thrusts. That's it let him ease in, settle down on your knees.' All the while as Donna talks she carries out her directions to the word and soon both Donna and I both gasp and squeal as we are both penetrated simultaneously. 

'That's it,' she cries excitedly, 'now let him dictate the rhythm and speed.' 

The strap on dildo is smaller than Brad's huge cock but nevertheless my muscle stretch and she eases it in and out gently. I gasp and moan then feel her flop over me her hands still pumping the dildo in my arse as Brad climbs behind her and thrusts his cock into her waiting arse too. We all cry out and as Brad thrusts Donna pushes the dildo deeper and deeper into me. Back and forth Brad thrusts, back and forth Donna pumps the dildo and it wasn't long for the third time that night Brad fills Donnas arse with his cum and Donna screams with a climax. 'That's it,' she screams, 'now use your imagination here sweetie. Feel me tense and shoot. Hmmm yummy Now rejoice in that hot cum that yuchys enough to saviour.'

I gasp as I imagine her every word and to my surprise my own cock dribbles pathetically on the floor with precum.

'We want breakfast in bed,' Brad says in an authoritative manner as he climbs off Donna.

'And I'll have tea and toast,' chips in Donna, 'not too much milk.'

Brad glares at me with his steely eyes and cracks his knuckles whilst flexing his muscles, 'Do you understand? Do you have a problem with that? '

I shyly nod. 

'I can't hear you', he chants. 

'No, no,' I mumble, spittle dribbling out of my stretched mouth, my own cum dribbling from my cock. Donna withdraws and slaps me patronisingly on the rump. 'Room for improvement,' she says. 'Its quite simple you just gotta be hot, willing and grateful.' I wasn't so sure. My arse felt as if a stake had been hammered into it like a vampire and yet there it was again that deliciously warm feeling. I felt so confused. I struggle sit up and he slaps me across the face. I whimper unsure what I'd done to deserve such behaviour.

'That's good because you have a lots more to learn about being a sissy slave. I think that your training will begin today and you will always address me, as Master Brad, Tomi, is that understood?

'Yes Master Brad, I answer dribbling through my gag, I felt so feminine, so humiliated. Was this the future if I was to remain friends with Brad? Me the sissy slave always dressed and willing for his pleasure. I think oh his girth and shudder. Brad plainly unable to decipher a single word but from the bewildered look etched across my face, the message had sunk in.

But Brad still thought it necessary to mark my arm with the words 'sex kitten slave girl'. Sksg for short in permanent ink.

'You look ridiculously silly doing all your chores in jeans and T-shirt when masculine clothes are so inappropriate when you are obviously accepting the submissive feminine role.'

Donna laughs and reaches for her handbag. From it She retrieves a bottle of nail varnish and throws it at me, which I clumsily catch with my cuffed hands.

'Excellent idea, Donna, Tomi you can start by wearing this nail varnish. I particularly like long nails on a girl, as it's a mark of their inability to do anything manly. I want you to paint your hands and your feet. And I don't want some half-hearted job because just because you're a sissy. You want to please me by being well groomed and pretty. Being so pathetic you must max your assets. I want to see a professional job and I may even get Donna to mark your efforts out of ten. Get less than eight and I'll make you wear it all week, manicuring your nails, applying fresh polish every day so you can get it right.' he laughs.

'Practice makes perfect,' Donna adds. 

My face burns bright scarlet and my tiny cock twitches awkwardly in my damp silk panties. 

'Donna will show you how to make yourself up, that's if you need help,' 

Donna chuckles and nods. 

'And she's very kindly offered to be your advisor. Listen well and take heed. I don't want her reporting back any non-compliance but remember I am the Master.

Regarding clothes, I will personally select you something more suitable from Donna's cast offs.' He laughed mercilessly. ' Something more appropriate to your new position. But you can be rest assured that you'll be showing plenty of leg, panties and bra. I don't want some frigid church convert.' He chuckles like an evil dictator and I see a look in his eyes that I've never seen before. I wilt dejectedly and find myself whimpering like a lost dog.

It was as if I had said a joke as

I whimper miserably they both laugh raucously. Donna points mockingly at my tiny cock, shrivelled in my panties and laughs even louder. 'No wonder he can't get a girlfriend. Look as his wee winkie that wouldn't satisfy anyone. Keep the sissy in panties - its the best for him.' She laughs again then slaps my bottom and I begin to cry.

What's happened to me I muse? Why have I let Brad reduce me to his sissy slave what power does he posses that makes me fall weak at his knees?

Everything finished rather quickly after that. Donna skipped out of the room and Brad made me pull up my panties and slip back into bed. The stockings on my legs felt peculiar under the bed sheets but wiggling my toe

In the Lycra was kinda comforting. My arse was sore and I still couldn't talk. Brad tucked me in so tight I could barely move. I wince and gather by their expressions that the look on my face was priceless. He turns off the light and orders me to stay in "my" bedroom. 

Remarkably when Donna and Brad where back in his room they had sex yet again. But this time it was different I felt it was for my benefit as they made a terrible noise. Donna kept shouting out Brads name and extolling his virtue as a virile man of action. As I lay alone in the darkness pondering my predicament, dressed in the pretty lingerie, gagged, cuffed and pressed flat in the tiny bed something strange happened. My own tiny cock began to throb. I struggle against the bed sheets scared that I would wet them then inexplicably as next-door Brad let rip with an animalistic roar and Donna shrieked with delight I dribbled my own sad watery cum into my panties. As my gusset dampened and the dark stain seeped through the sheets - I panicked. I had a horrid feeling my impromptu ejaculation would be punished most severely since Brad seemed to enjoy controlling everything about my life. I'm not sure what happened next, the effects of the drugged whisky coffee and the exhaustion of the last few hours proved too much and I snuggled into a deep sleep.

The following morning I was awoken by the sound of Brad's heavy fist on the thin bedroom wall. 'Waky waky kitten slave girl. We want coffee and toast sharpish.' 

I did what I was told but it was no mean feat preparing breakfast wearing handcuffs. Plus as the toast cooked and the coffee brewed I managed to paint my toes and nails.

Brad made me sit at the bottom of the bed as they both ate and laughed at me between mouthfuls. I never got a word of thanks but Brad did undo my handcuffs and asked me to select his clothes from the wardrobe. He didn't allow me any toast or coffee and Donna was niffed as I forgot to do her tea.

'May I remind you that I want you to fit your dress by the end of the month. I recommend you eat very little.' he said and to make matters worse Donna laughed.

'Welcome to being a woman, I find keeping my weight down a constsnt battle but it has its rewards.' She giggles and cuddles Brad.

And that's about it. Brad made me rent my flat and move into his spare room. We still work together and to prove his dominance he makes me wear panties, stocking and a bra to work. I therefore can't take off my shirt but he loves seeing me struggle all day especially if it's hot. And yes he's taken to insisting I wear make-up, and gets quite upset if he can't see my foundation shimmer or lipstick sparkle. If I've a lot of paperwork he insists I wear false nails and he loves to see me file them like a bimbo and paint them in the office (as long as I get my work done) Occasionally if I'm in the back office and we are not expecting a visitor he makes me wear a tiny lace mini dress which he calls my work suit. Its almost obscene, being so short as it barely covers my crotch but that's what he enjoys and he forever makes me bend in front of him thrusting my bum in his face. I object of course but I've learnt the hard way as he's taken to hauling me over his knee and smacking my bottom until its red raw if I displease him. 

Once at home he makes me wear a dress that he has laid out for me before we go work and he reminds me all day what he wants me to wear. I have lost weight, I can fit all of Donna's old dresses and I've grown my own hair longer. When Brad takes me out or he wants me to dress special he makes me apply some ludicrously long false nails which I paint to a colour of his choice.

What happens next? Does Donna help Brad in Tomi's transformation, does Brad tire of Donna and get all his satisfaction from his new kitten sex slave girl. Has she outlived her purpose does Tomi get Brad all to himself? What mark does Tomi get for his nails? You decide.

The end