Margarite and bobbie 02

The next few days were uneventful. As Margarite and I settled into our old routine I hardly thought of the new man in her life. When I did it was ever so briefly. After all there was nothing I could do about it. In all likelihood, he would not make the grade with Margarite. It was she who would decide his fate and I well knew that nothing he could do or say would effect the outcome of her deliberations. But Friday night came and she announced that she was going out. I quickly selected the bra and panties she wanted and placed them on the counter in the bathroom along with matching hose. After a few finishing touches with the iron, I stood behind her waiting for her to step into the abbreviated black evening dress, in which I knew she would appear nothing short of ravishing. I then placed her right high heel shoe on to her foot and then her left. After a few minutes of intense makeup application she was ready to go. “Now, how do I look Bobbie”? As I looked into her eyes my lower lip pushed up into a firm smile of encouragement. I loved her so much that I needed to let her know that I wanted her to succeed at what ever she was planning to accomplish, whether it was having a few laughs with her girl friends or taking on a train of men in an all night orgy.

After she left I returned to my household chores. It was very comforting to resume my never-ending tasks of cleaning, washing clothes and dishes, dusting and so on. There was so much to think about and dwelling on memories of my submission to Margarite always turned me on as much in recollection as in the original experience. And so as I stood in the laundry room, slowly folding her clothes I called to mind the visit which we had made to Susan’s house on Tuesday.

Susan and Dr. Pam were just beginning to enjoy a cup of coffee, which I had prepared for them. Pamela Jones was a close friend of Margarite’s and a very dominant female somewhat older than either of the other women. Susan was a neophyte to the lifestyle of female domination. Everything she knew about it she had been told by Margarite and Dr. Pam. It had started slowly with these weekday coffee klatches, first with only Margarite and Susan. I was introduced into the sessions almost as a demonstration of the kind of things Margarite was telling Susan. I can still remember the shocked look on Susan’s face when I carefully removed all of my clothes at Margarite’s command and stacked them near the door. The blank look of astonishment remained on her face, even as a tied a chiffon apron around my back and proceeded into the kitchen to begin preparations for the coffee and cinnamon rolls which I was to serve. I don’t mean to imply that I wasn’t pretty excited by the scene myself. On that first day, standing nearly naked in a strange kitchen I was flush with embarrassment and sexual energy.
By now, of course serving these lovely dominating ladies had become fairly routine. There was always a thrill in not knowing what I would be required to do, but there was no longer any fear or trepidation on my part, for I had found that everything I was told to do on their behalf I enjoyed doing to the depth of my soul.
On that Tuesday, as I stood quietly by, my eyes directed downward and my hands demurely folded in front of my apron, Susan was asking Margarite how she had prepared me for the presence of another man in her household. My eyes narrowed slightly as I perked my ears to hear what Margarite would say. “Well, I have Pam to thank for that.” Margarite and Dr. Pam shared a very knowing glance and I began to wonder what that could mean.

“As you know I have required Bobby to keep a rather intense regimen of vitamins and exercise. He eats very little because he knows that he will be punished if his weight exceeds 145 pounds. Pam suggested female hormones so I just added another daily pill to the program about two weeks ago and it worked like a charm.”

“Without telling him?” asked Susan in astonishment.

“I suppose I forgot to mention it,” said Margarite very dryly. All three of the women erupted in laughter. After a few seconds they turned their eyes toward me and seeing my look of surprise and embarrassment they began laughing even harder than before.

At this point a revelation began to hit me. the odd feelings that I had been having, the deeply emotional edge that had come to embellish everyday conversation and unremarkable events. And beyond that, something so amazing that I had not really allowed myself to think about it until now- subtle changes in my body. Not only inside but outside as well. I had noticed a smoothing of my waist along the transition of my chest to my tummy, I hadn’t needed to shave for several days and a tingling in my nipples as they rubbed against the fabric of my clothing that kept grabbing my attention, whether I was horny or not.
“Come here for a minute, Bobby,” Margarite commanded. “Undo your apron.”
Even as I complied with her command I could feel the thrilling rasp of the diaphanous fabric as it slid along my nipples.

“Tease your nipples bobby.” I ran the tips of my fingers along my nipples slowly, to make them erect.

They were a least double in size. I could feel myself coming to life with a sexual energy that was uniquely different from anything that I had felt before and looking downward at my fingers as they bounced lightly over my substantial nipples I could see their changed appearance. the areolas had darkened to rich brownish pink and spread outward in larger circles. My breasts were not much larger at all, but the effect of these pubescent nipples was so surprising that I immediately became overwhelmed with a rush of thoughts.

Many times before, I had been worried about some aspect of my submission to Margarite. Had I gone too far in doing this or that for her? Was I so degraded by my debasement that I may not be able to regain any respect for myself? Each time these thoughts had come to my mind in the past, they had been replaced with even stronger feelings of rectitude in my service to her. So strong was my attachment to her beguiling charm and dominant female chemistry that the floods of joy I experienced in my service to her always overcame the doubt. And each doubt, once overcome, would never occur again. In fact these events, of doubting and confirmation, became like stepping stones in my slow evolution into slavery. Even so, as I stood there, mildly chilled by a draft of air I felt on my exposed chest, and stroking slowly these profoundly sensitive new-found pleasure buttons, and feeling the silent gazes of the three beautiful women whom I respected so completely, I was flooded with fear. My hard-on was pushing a little pole into the front of my panties. How long would I be able to do this? I knew that now, finally I was in a situation that may be completely beyond my control. that I had gone beyond a point where my safety was somehow a sure thing, to a level, where I could not possibly predict what would happen next. Did she want me to become a women? I had never desired such a thing. Sure, I liked to cross dress. but this was only a part-time pleasure. I liked being a man. the betrayal that I felt was shattering to me. I had not asked what the pills were for. I am so used to doing what I’m told that it didn’t even occur to me. I probably would have taken them even if I would have known, for I have never refused Margarite anything. I was proud of my compliance to such a proud and beautiful women. But did she think so little of me that she could throw away my manhood without a second thought? I was flooded with a feeling of emptiness. The floor beneath my feet could hardly convince me that I was standing.

“Look at me little man!” said Margarite. As I turned my head to meet her eyes, I felt a sharp slap across my face and then another from her other hand that rang me like a bell and left a deep tingling sting of redness on both of my cheeks. Instantly I felt my emotions subdued and a familiar rush of feeling spread throughout my body. It was the feeling of acceptance, that marked each step of submission to my beautiful but stern mistress.

”You will continue to take the hormone pills until I tell you to stop. Is that understood ?” As I slowly nodded my head in humble submission I could feel a stirring in my cock that reminded me of how addicted I was to such humiliation and even though I knew now that I was going to continue to take the pills and that I would be happy as I always was in my submission to Margarite, I felt a pang of sadness as I realized that my penis, as small and ineffectual as it might be, would be turning into a useless remnant of my lost masculinity.

When we returned home that night, she called me to her bed side and very politely thanked me for my loyal service. Once again I had proven my dedication to her, and yes I was going to suffer the loss of my masculinity for as long as she chose to deprive me of it. but we both knew that it would be no deprivation. I was already smiling dreamily as she began to slowly pinch and twist my engorged nipples and I opened myself to the realization that I was going to spend another blissful night at Margarite’s feet savoring a dreamy yearning that would stretch into the midnight hour, long after my beautiful mistress had turned away her magnetic gaze and drifted into sleep

Leave a Reply

New Report