Chapter 7
Chrissie Recovers
I couldn’t really move off the sofa for the next few days as the recovery
from the breast implant surgery required me to sl**p in a sitting
position so mommy laid a sheet on the sofa and propped pillows behind me
and for the next four days I just wore a satin dressing gown and kept my
movement to a minimum. My new breasts ached and I was too scared to even
look at them. Mother was used to me taking care of her every whim so,
when the tables were turned, she tried to be the best ‘Nurse Nancy’ she
could but her wonderfully wicked nature wouldn’t allow her to resist
occasionally lifting my slip, pushing aside my panties and fondling my
shrunken penis and testicles. It was wonderfully erotic of her to touch
me, even though I couldn’t get hard anymore.
We had sort of been lovers since I was 13 and caught her cuckolding my
father with my uncle. When I say we were ‘sort of’ lovers what I mean is
that we didn’t have full on sex until after my father passed away when I
was 18 and what developed between us was an extremely erotic and
asymmetrical relationship. She allowed me to explore the depths of my
submissiveness and I brought out her dominant nature. What it led to was
my initial feminisation. We were the same size, both slight people,
barely 5’5" in our stocking feet. She dressed me in her clothes and I
learned how to enjoy the feeling of being a girl and within the confines
of our house I never wore male clothes.
I left her when I was 25, escaped to Africa and got married shortly
thereafter and tried to pretend I was a real man. That experiment turned
out to be very brief. My new wife saw right through me. She made it clear
right from the start of our relationship that I was never going to be man
enough for her and her happiness required her sexual freedom, which she
took right from the start. On our return to London she became friends
with Helen, her doctor, who ended my psychological conflict by briefly
chemically castrating me and beginning regular doses of oestrogen that
eventually turned me into the sissy I am today, replete with new breasts
and a prick and testicles that have shrunk to a fraction of their former
size.
Now my wife is pregnant with her lover’s baby and is planning on leaving
me. The divorce papers will arrive Monday. Helen has now taken over where
my wife left off and is leading me on a different journey in life; one
that is solely devoted to her happiness. That happiness entails her
complete domination of me and my utter devotion to her.
I am not a woman and never will be. I have accepted that. I am a sissy
that will be used to satisfy the kinky sexual desires of other men who
will pay for the privilege of degrading me. I will not materially benefit
from that in the slightest; whatever I will make will go as my tribute to
my new benevolent owner: Helen. But I will ultimately fulfil a need in me
in a way that very few people would understand. My happiness is wrapped
up in my utter submission to the person who controls my life. Once that
was my mother and now it is Helen. She is taller than me by at least
three inches, beautiful, sophisticated, elegant and possessed with a
wickedly erotic mind.
Perhaps the biggest gift my mother gave me was to allow me to serve her.
Once she realised the sense of devotion I felt for her she allowed me to
take care of her in every way possible. I did everything around the house
and prepared every meal she ate, waiting on her hand and foot, dressed as
prettily as I could. That gift she gave me allowed her to fundamentally
change as a person. She became empowered as a woman and now demands
devotion from her new, much younger husband and would not consider
anything less than having her complete sexual freedom, whilst he is
solely devoted to her. In return, he spoils her completely, as any man
should. At 55 she is strikingly beautiful, looks younger by at least a
decade and has a sexual vitality much younger women lack.
By Thursday, four days after the operation, the swelling and pain had
lessened greatly although I still felt most comfortable lying upright on
my back. Mommy gave me a large glass of her golden nectar to wake me up
and sat next to me on the sofa, reaching between my legs and pulling my
panties back to look at my little cock. A hygienist had been giving me
laser treatments every day of the week to remove all my pubic hair
permanently, which was Helen’s suggestion because my penis and balls were
far too small to shave safely. Shorn of pubic hair and pink, they looked
tiny, almost like a newborn baby’s little cock.
"Can I carefully lower your bra and take a look at your new tits?" my
mother asked knowing that as long as her fingers were touching me I could
not refuse any request she made.
"I am curious too," I replied. "I am desperate to see them. Can you bring
a hand mirror from the bathroom so I can look at them too?"
While she was upstairs finding the mirror I gently touched the bra and
noticed that each cup had a button that held it in place, making it
possible to open either side without taking the bra off. When mommy
returned and sat next to me I told her to carefully unbutton the two cups
so we could get a good look. As she fiddled with the bra I held out the
mirror so I could get a good first glimpse of my new breasts.
"Why, they’re beautiful," she said when she finally released my breasts
and held them gently in her hand. "I’ll be ever so careful but I have to
be the first one in the world to suck those beautiful nipples."
When she placed her mouth on my right breast and slowly swirled her
tongue around my nipple I felt a surge of electricity run through me and
I began moaning with pleasure. Mommy reached down with her other hand and
artfully played with my little cock making me almost gasp with pleasure.
"You’ve made a mess out of mommy’s hand," she said as she held up her cum
coated finger and stroked it on my lips. "Your little thing can’t get
hard but somehow those tiny balls of yours seem to be making little drops
of sissy juice."
"Please kiss my tit again," I begged mommy, with a plea in my voice.
"I’ll do anything you want if you just give me ten seconds more of
attention."
"Well, since I am back in London I would like a new pair of Louis Vuitton
shoes," she said with a sly grin. "You can buy us matching pairs this
weekend."
When she put her lips back on my nipple I thought about buying her a
dozen pairs. After she finally pulled her lips away from my breasts I had
a chance to examine them. They seemed perfectly matched; my enlarged
nipples were perfectly placed to make them look exactly like a real
women’s tits. I touched them lightly and held them and the feeling was
almost perfect. I decided I would keep the surgical bra on for one more
day and take it off on Friday morning and put something far sexier on. I
had to go to the clinic to get my hormone shot in the morning and I had
an appointment at the brothel to get my indoctrination and learn about
what it was going to be like working there. I asked mommy if she wanted
to go with me to my appointments and if she would allow me to take her
out to dinner on Friday night. She readily agreed and promised to make us
into the two most beautiful women in the restaurant.
Mommy had spent the last four days asking me questions I had no idea how
to answer about my future life working as a t-girl prostitute. She wanted
to know how many men I would service in a day, what they would want to do
with me, if I would just see other sissies or if there any element of
domination or submission. The way she talked about it was almost as if
she was more excited about her son becoming a whore than me. I had my
worries but they were insignificant only because the decision to become a
prostitute had not been mine. Helen and Derek had made that decision for
me and they were the two people I had pledged to serve without question.
I had shown the tattoo on the back of my neck to mommy which stated in
unequivocal terms that I was the property of Helen. Seeing that seemed to
push the overdrive button on the erotic side of my mommy’s brain. I could
see her chest flush after she looked at it and from years of experience I
knew that her pussy was getting moist and her mind was spinning with
salacious thoughts. She u*********sly licked her lips and closed her eyes
and a slight sheen of perspiration formed on her forehead. I knew then
and there that mommy and Helen would probably bind right from the start.
When Friday morning came around I woke early and rose from the couch,
took off my surgical bra, shoved it in the rubbish bin and went upstairs
to shave my legs and underarms. I showered and washed my hair feeling
clean for the first time in days. Mommy joined me in the bathroom and
pulled the shower curtain aside and helped me wash my body. I lingered
while she showered and luxuriously soaped her taut body and shampooed her
hair. When we got out and dried off, I put her in a chair in front of the
dresser in my bedroom and blow dried her hair. I quickly dried mine
afterwards. Then we both put on makeup and I let her choose my wardrobe
for the day.
As I was going to the brothel after visiting the clinic I put on a
suspender belt and natural tan stockings. I matched it with a black lace
bra and matching black panties. Mommy picked out two tweed skirts which
fell two inches above the knee and a purple silk blouse for me. I undid
the top three buttons which gave a view of the beginning of my cleavage
and just a wisp of my lacy bra. It was the first time in my life I could
show my breasts and I was fascinated to see what I looked like in the
full length mirror. Slipping on three inch heels mommy joined me at the
mirror. As we looked at ourselves I realised we looked more like s****rs
than mother and c***d. We had similar hair styles although mommy’s hair
had darkened over the years and she had skilfully streaked it blonde
whilst mine was softer in hue, offset by platinum streaks. We both had
the same facial features with high cheekbones, blue eyes, slightly
upturned noses and lush lips. If people saw us there was no question that
they would see we were closely related but, given mommy’s youthful look,
I doubt they would ever suspect she was my mother.
We grabbed our handbags and marched out of the house and caught a cab to
the clinic. When we entered and I went up to the receptionist she did a
double take when she saw me. Just last week I was in my regular outfit of
leggings and yoga tops and feminine flats and now I was here before her
with my new tits and dressed like an elegant woman. There was no snigger
today, just a quiet acknowledge and a nod of the head to indicate where
to sit and wait for the nurse. The nurse also was taken aback when she
came out to lead me to an examination room. When she closed the door
behind her I could see a little amusement in her eyes and a contrasting
malevolent smile on her face.
"So Helen’s favourite patient doesn’t have her doctor here today," she
said, lifting a pre-packaged hypodermic needle off the desk and splitting
the end to take it out. She held it up to examine the measurement and
knitted her brows together as she looked at me with feigned friendliness.
"I’m supposed to give you your injection this week and Helen always says
you want more and more of the hormones in you," she continued. "She says
her favourite sissy can’t get enough girly juice in her ass each week and
begs her for more. She says you are addicted."
"Get up and come over here and lift that pretty skirt up and bend over,"
she commanded. "I just might be more generous to you than Helen is and
shoot you so full of it your new tits will grow a size."
I had no real choice so, while a deep blush rose in my cheeks, I did as I
was told and hiked my skirt and bent over. She jammed the needle a little
too violently in my left cheek and let out a little giggle as the pushed
the hormones inside me. When she sat and I had pushed my skirt down, she
looked me over in an imperious manner.
"If you tell Helen I gave you a super dose of girl power this week I
will report her to the medical board and I’ll make sure she is struck off
the register because of her bizarre relationship with you," the nurse
said with a sneer. "I’ve got enough on that woman to make sure she could
never practice medicine in any country in the world."
"Look at you," she said in the most belittling way possible. "You came in
here three years ago as a red bl**ded man and now you are a mincing sissy
boy. You are the butt of half the jokes here. I can’t believe you still
have a cock and she hasn’t lopped it off yet."
Her face didn’t soften when tears started coming out of my eyes. It only
seemed to strengthen her resolve.
"Now get out of here and don’t ever come back unless Helen is here," she
said. "Go out to your s****r in the lobby and you can both cry your eyes
out."
I was visibly shaken as I hurried out to the reception area and motioned
for mommy to follow me out of the clinic. She could see my eyes were red
and I was visibly upset and wanted to talk but I insisted we get as far
away from the clinic first before we spoke. We eventually stumbled onto
the same cafe Helen and I had met Derek just a week ago and we sat and
ordered coffee and I told mommy all about what the nurse had said to me
and that I had probably been given a much larger shot of oestrogen than I
was normally used to. She was furious but told me to calm down and that
she would take care of me if the hot rushes I always got over the weekend
were stronger than normal. She used her phone to research if a large
injection of the female hormone would be harmful and was assured that,
since it was a natural substance, it was impossible to overdose on it.
Too much might wipe me out for the day but it wouldn’t have any long term
effect.
"Let’s just assume that tomorrow is a wash and try to get as much done
today as possible," she said, trying to calm me. "As far as what she said
about Helen, it may be true, but that awful nurse doesn’t understand you
at all. When I look at you now I know this is the right destiny for you.
You need someone strong to take control of you, even to knowingly exploit
you to some extent. You were happiest as a boy doing everything you could
possibly do to make me happy and you expected me to be the selfish and
promiscuous woman I can’t help being."
"Let me tell you something I have never shared with you before," mommy
said in a serious voice. "That afternoon thirteen years ago when you saw
your uncle taking me like he had hundreds of times before there were so
many conflicting emotions running inside me. He treated me like his slut,
the wife of what he considered his pussy b*****r who he used just for his
own satisfaction. He and your other uncle did that to me from the start
of my marriage to your father. They took what they thought they deserved
and I was a willing accomplice because something inside me always craved
the excitement that your father could never provide me. They had their
respectable wives who would never consider doing what I did with them. I
was their dirty thing on the side."
"Then I saw your sweet face peeking through the door and I saw you
playing with yourself as you watched," mommy added. "After your uncle had
put his seed deep inside me I knew that I had to make you an accomplice
to that act so you would never tell your father about what sort of mother
you had. I led you into bed and took your little prick in my hand and
played with it, hating myself for having to do that and thinking it was
the sickest thing any mother could do to their son. Then you surprised me
by asking to lick the very pussy that I had betrayed your father with. I
first felt a feeling of revulsion when you went down on me. I thought
about what sort of man you would become if the first experience you
wanted sexually with a woman was to degrade yourself in such a manner. A
real man would have taken me like your uncle but your only desire was to
lick his spent seed. I have to admit that once I got over the revulsion
of allowing you to do that my first reaction was relief. Any boy who does
that would never reveal that he had committed such a shameful act with
any woman, let alone his mother. Then as I began to feel pleasure as I
told you how to lick my clit and bring me off, something inside me
changed. I knew then that the reason your first impulse was to do
something no normal man would ever do was an act of adoration. I had
never felt adored in my life before and allowing myself that emotion
changed me forever."
"Then you began asking me to do other things that I first thought were
sick and revolting," mommy continued. "You insisted on drinking my pee
every morning and licking my ass clean after I had taken a shit. Every
time you pushed through my barriers I worried about what sort of son I
had brought into the world. You brought up so many conflicting emotions
in me but each time we crossed a new threshold I realised that you needed
to make me feel completely adored and that feeling empowered me as a
woman. You helped me let myself go. I began to enjoy the erotic dominance
I had over you. The ultimate conclusion to that was to take away your
manhood and dress you as a girl. I loved the sight of you in stockings
and a skirt and I loved to put makeup on your sweet face. We became a bit
reclusive after your father died solely because we gave each other so
much joy together. I guess the final thing was whipping you with that
riding crop you bought. I didn’t like it at first but then I got
incredibly turned on by it. I loved that I had such power over you and
that you would willingly suffer through whatever pain I inflicted on you.
It put me in a sexual frenzy."
"My relationship with my husband is not dissimilar to what we had
together," mommy confided. "I was drawn to him not just because he is
handsome, younger and rich but because he was willing to fully come to
terms with the power exchange that is the basis the basis any of
relationship I will allow myself to enter into. I will never recapture
the erotic experiences I had with you. Nothing will ever come close to
that. But to enjoy that I had to get over the guilt I felt at raising a
son who would never be a real man. When I began to accept that it is in
your very nature to enjoy the degradations you do and nothing will ever
change that then I began to realise that how I once judged who a man is
isn’t important, it’s your happiness and fulfilment that means the most
in life. You will always be who you are and any woman who fully gets you
will know that."
"Helen is satisfying her dominant sexual needs in life by turning you
into a sissy prostitute and reaping all the financial benefits from that.
She knows every day you will be on your fours taking a real man inside
you continuously and not expecting any benefit from that and doing it
just out of devotion to her. To be honest with you, when I think about
it, my biggest regret is that I didn’t do that to you first. That would
have been the most natural outcome for our relationship but we both got
scared about where we were going and you ran off to Africa to try to
pretend to be a real man and I went off and got married to someone who
turned out to be substitute for you. I am sort of conflicted now because,
more than anything, I would like to be part of this new journey too."
"What did you mean about being a part of it?" I asked. "At some point
you have to go back and be with your husband or are you telling me
something I don’t know?"
"My husband takes his orders from one person only and, if he is desperate
to see me, he can take a flight to London," mommy replied. "I’m thinking
of a plan to be part of your new life. I haven’t figured out how to do
that yet but I want to talk to Helen when she returns."
"Speaking of Helen," she added. "Have you talked to her and has she
spilled the beans about what your slutty wife is up to on her holiday?"
"She said Heidi has had enough strange cocks inside her so far this week
to knock that baby she is carrying inside her for a loop," I said with a
laugh. "I guess in between fucks she and Rob are calling each other all
the time and he thinks she is missing him dearly. I honestly can’t wait
until Monday when the divorce papers arrive."
"Enough about that useless South African bitch," mommy said. "Let’s use
the time before we go to the brothel to do some shopping. You must need a
new batch of lingerie because I think that’s all you’re going to be
wearing while you are at work.
We went to Bond Street and I fulfilled my pledge to my mother and bought
her some Louis Vuitton shoes, as well as a pair for myself and then we
went to Agent Provocateur in Soho and blew a mint on bras, suspender
belts, knickers and stockings. Finally at 2:00 pm we caught a taxi to
Derek’s brothel in Mayfair. When we knocked on the door we were let in
and shown to an office and told to wait for Kate, who was the matron of
the establishment and was currently entertaining a client.
Shortly thereafter a tallish brunette woman entered the room wearing only
panties, a suspender belt holding up dark stockings and a bra. She was
strikingly beautiful, in her mid-thirties and had a ready smile for both
of us, instantly putting us at ease. She introduced herself and I told
her my name and introduced my mother.
"This is the first time that Derek has ever hired a t-girl," said Kate,
giving me the once over. "I have to say if I hadn’t known that you were
once a man I would never have guessed. The girls here are a little
shocked that you are coming to work here so you’ll have to do your best
to fit in. I think their initial worry was that you would attract the
wrong clientele but I agree with Derek that you will fulfil a kink in a
lot of men’s minds. This is an extremely expensive and exclusive
establishment. The girls here are lucky to be chosen to work here and
they know it and we have all built up certain camaraderie. We think we
are the most beautiful women in the business in London and the most
sought after. The only problem we have is as a business is that we lose
so many of our girls to marriage but, thankfully, that will never be a
risk for you."
"Another advantage is that you can work five days a week and not have to
worry about taking a week off every month like a real woman does," added
Kate. "We can put you on a full schedule as of Monday and I can assure
you that you will be busy all the time."
"I have no idea how this works," I said to Kate. "How will your clients
know that I exist? I assume when they come here they expect to have sex
with a real woman, not me."
"Every day we send out the most sought after email in the city of
London," replied Kate. "It goes out to over 200,000 of the highest paid
men in the UK and it has pictures of all the women who are working here
that day with details about them and the limits they have. We are going
to photograph you today in lingerie for Monday’s email. Every man who can
afford to come here Monday will know that you are on duty and, if they
are interested, they will call and make an appointment to see you."
"Now, let’s get down to business," said Kate. "We don’t allow and d**gs,
drinking or smoking on the premises. All the girls have to fully shaved
and keep themselves smooth at all times. Men will pay £500 to see you.
Derek takes a cut of £100 and another £100 goes to the house. We expect
all the girls to see about ten men a day and, although we tell the
clients each session is an hour, we expect them to leave in 30 minutes
with a smile on their face. When you leave here you will go to a tattoo
shop that handles all of Derek’s business. His initials will be inked on
your right ass cheek to signify that you are his property. You will not
have penetrative sex with any man outside of the premises of this house
ever. Any man who you have a relationship with and you want to have sex
with will pay for that privilege just like any other client. Only Derek
decides when you retire. With your look you have at least 20 years or
more in this business."
"If one of the clients falls in love with one of our girls, which is most
unlikely in your case, then he has to negotiate with Derek for that
girl’s purchase. No tattoos are allowed. Do you have any existing
tattoos?"
"Yes I do," I said blushing. "I just had one on the back of my neck. It’s
very subtle."
Kate got up from seat and walked behind me. She lifted up my hair and
gazed at the tattoo and then walked back behind the desk and sat down.
"If that is the case then I think the girls will readily accept you,"
Kate said with a smile. "Knowing that you are the property of an
empowered woman will make all the difference to the other girls."
"Now there are some more delicate issues I would like to address," Kate
said. "Derek has informed me that you are incapable of having an erection
and that you are very feminine and submissive in nature. We will restrict
your clients only to men who have no interest in trying to bring you
satisfaction. The girls are adamant that you only see a certain type of
man and we don’t want to start accepting men here who have conflicted
sexual identities. Derek also says that your penis has shrunk
substantially and is only an inch or so long. That also makes the girls
happy. I don’t want your submissiveness to get in the way of making your
clients happy, though. You will have to take the lead sometimes and show
them how best to enjoy your body. It’s their pleasure that is the most
important thing."
"Finally, this may come as a shock to you, but this is a no-condom zone,"
Kate said. "The clients pay top money to see the girls here and they
expect to take them in the same way they would take their wives. You will
have to watch your hygiene between sessions and make sure you aren’t
leaking. Always wipe your private area and clean it with a wash cloth
before you see another man. At the end of the day you won’t be able to
stop the leaking but, in your case that means you will probably not need
any lubricant."
"Now, I want you to go into the other room and wait for me to photograph
you for Monday’s email," Kate said nodding towards the door behind her
desk. "I would like to speak to your mother about something private
before I come in, so I might be a few minutes."
I quickly made my way into the other room and took off all my clothes
except for my shoes, stockings, bra and panties and sat and waited for
Kate. I wondered what had prompted Kate to want to speak to my mother
privately but that question was answered as soon as the door opened and
mommy and Kate walked in laughing like old friends.
"Your mother has agreed to become the house’s new receptionist," Kate
said. "She will answer the phones, make the appointments, usher the
clients into the rooms, handle all the money and make sure the house runs
smoothly. I hope it doesn’t bother you to be working with your mother. As
soon as I saw her I just knew she was the face we had to have on the
door."
"No, that doesn’t bother me at all," I said with a sense of relief. "It
will actually make things easier for me in the beginning."
After Kate took a few pictures of me with her digital camera she gave me
a slip of paper with the name and address of the tattoo shop on it. She
also informed me that my working attire was only going to be what I was
wearing when she took the pictures and that I had better quickly get used
to walking around only wearing stockings, knickers, a bra and heels. She
also told me to arrive promptly at 10:30 am Monday morning and expect to
work up until 6:00 pm. Kate told my mother to be in at 9:00 am and expect
a flurry of calls as the clients wanted to make appointments to see the
girls as early as possible.
When she was finished Kate studied me as I got dressed and showed us to
the door, warmly kissing us both goodbye on the cheek. We walked for five
minutes before my mother hailed a cab and gave the driver the address of
the tattoo shop.
When we arrived at the tattoo shop I was pleasantly surprised to see it
looked fairly upmarket. I told the pretty blonde girl at reception that
Kate had sent me over from Derek’s brothel for my tattoo. Rather than
looking shocked the receptionist actually looked at me with barely
concealed envy.
"Is it just you who is getting the tattoo or is your s****r getting one
as well?" she asked me. Before I could respond my mother answered for me.
"It’s for both of us," mommy said with a gleam in her eye.
"Every design is the same but each girl gets to choose the colour they
want," said the girl as she pulled out an image of the tattoo Derek
required each of his girls to get. It was the initials D and C
attractively superimposed on themselves inside a circle that was maybe an
inch in diameter.
"In that case I will have mine done in a deep blue and my s****r here
will have it done in a deep red," mommy told the girl with a gleam in her
eye.
One hour later mommy and I walked out of the tattoo parlour arm in arm
both suffering from slightly sore bums, choosing to walk home rather than
face the pain of sitting in a taxi. After ten minutes of walking, my
mother stopped and pulled me into her arms.
"Thank you for wanting me to part of your new life," mommy said as her
eyes began to tear. "Every day I will be only a few doors away from you
as you begin to fulfil your new destiny in life. Perhaps one day one
wicked client will want to double book the new receptionist and the new
sissy together. Just think of that."