Welcome to the eleventh chapter of this story of forced feminisation. It's been a while, but it's finally here! if you have any comments or reactions, I would love you to email me. And do think about donating to help support this wonderful site.
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MY NEW CAREER - PART 11
As the rain-soaked suburbs rushed by, I stared moodily at my reflection in the train window. As always, there was that slight sense of dislocation at seeing a pretty young woman, long dark hair framing a flawless, skilfully made-up face, the full red lips plump with promise, the big, blue eyes both innocent and inviting ...
Glancing down, I took in the nylon-clad legs, elegantly crossed, the short skirt riding up to reveal enticing expanses of thigh. The kind of sight that I used to find so erotic, riding on this same train.
Except back then I was a shy young man looking in the reflection to catch a glimpse of an attractive fellow commuter, hoping that she wouldn't see me sneaking a peek. Whereas for months now I had been playing a different game, often crossing and recrossing my legs to put on a show for any men sitting nearby, watching their reflection with amusement as they tried not to stare. Seeing them trying to hide their arousal ...
No such fun today though. Not this of all days, when my future would be decided. When I would graduate from the Ceder College, my training complete. And when I would also go on the auction block to be sold off to the highest bidder, their property for at least twelve months. Of course I could say no ... but then I'd have to work as a call girl for five years. That was the deal that the Everetts, the brother and sister who controlled my life, had offered me. One way or other I would get my freedom - but at what eventual cost, I could not possibly know.
Except one thing was certain - I would not be going home tonight. It had been made clear to me that whatever the outcome, I was headed to a private clinic for my chosen form of surgery. I would get breasts, a pussy ... or both. A decision that I had to announce today at the start of the auction - so the bidders knew what they were getting, I supposed. I would get three months to recover, and get accustomed to my new body parts, staying at a facility somewhere out of town. And then it would be off to my new owner - or interstate, to work as an escort in a new city, for a different set of clients.
Either way, I had just said goodbye for at least fifteen months, and quite possibly forever, to my erstwhile landlord, the man with whom I had shared a bed for so much of the time that I had been dressing and posing as a woman. Not for the first time that morning, my eyes brimmed with tears as I thought about Graeme.
Our relationship had begun so unpromisingly. Smitten by my sudden appearance in makeup and a schoolgirl uniform, he had wantonly exploited my desperate situation. Faced with the prospect of eviction from the flat I was renting from him, with nowhere to go and no access to the meagre funds in my bank account, I had succumbed to his lecherous desire for a kiss, a cuddle ... and a handjob. And not just once. Indeed it was not long before I had agreed, again with no viable alternative, to move in with him.
And yet ... He could easily have treated me with the same cruel disregard that the Everetts had consistently displayed. But he hadn't. He had worked hard to make me feel wanted and happy, to give me at least the illusion of choice. He had pampered me and tended to my needs, making our shared home the refuge I needed from my trials and tribulations at the College.
And perhaps most importantly, he had always accepted my silence about the reasons for my sudden transformation, or about what I did each weekday in the city. I had wanted to tell him about the lessons, the discipline, the brutal sessions with Kristen Everett. About the work I had been forced to do, first as a stripper and then as - there was no other word for it - a prostitute, earning huge amounts of money for both the College and, if I was ever allowed to see the proceeds, myself. About my growing fondness for handling and sucking men's cocks - although he would surely have realised that anyway, so eager had I become in using my newfound skills on his aged but still very active member.
But aside from a deep sense of shame, I had two good reasons for not opening up to Graeme. A concern about what the Everetts might do to me if they discovered my indiscretion - and an equally strong worry about what they might do to him, with their powerful friends and substantial resources. So I had kept my mouth shut - and Graeme accepted it, never trying to pry or question me.
And for all that, I had come to - well, obviously, like him. A lot. He was far from attractive, at nearly three times my age, with a large frame that, despite his regular exercise, had more flab than muscle. Compared to some of the pretty young men I worked with at the College, or even many of the Club Angel clientele I was assigned to entertain, he was far from my type - or what would have been my type, I reminded myself hurriedly, if I was genuinely attracted to men. (I still clung to the belief that my apparent interest in the male form was either chemically induced or just a passing phase.) But all the same, we had become very close.
Our bond was never tested more than the day I returned home after what had been both literally and figuratively a climactic night. A night spent at the mansion of the rich client who had purchased the right to relieve me of my virginity. Antony - even now I still didn't know if this was his first or last name - had wined, dined and fucked me, then let me have my wicked way with his servants Ryan and Alex.
I closed my eyes and shook my head in self-disgust as I remembered how willingly I had let the three of them take me. How I had lusted for the younger men's firm bodies. And most of all how eager I had been to be submit to their master's dominion - not to mention his monstrously large cock.
Katy the slut. That was what the Everetts had called me when I returned to the College. And a slut was exactly what I was, something I had proved again in not merely tolerating the siblings' assault on my body, but enjoying it. Even now, weeks later, I still felt a stir in my groin as I recalled the feeling of being fucked by Kristin's giant strapon while sucking off Gordon and swallowing every drop of his sperm. But only a stir, nothing more. The combination of the drugs I was taking to suppress my libido and the cage in which my cock was tightly encased dissuaded me from any arousal.
I fact I had not been hard since that same day, when the chemical and physical restraints had first been imposed. To protect their investment in me, the Everetts had said. And to save me, either for my new owner or the clients I would be servicing.
The cage, which I was permitted to take off only for short periods at the College, was not something I could hide from Graeme. Nor the accompanying device that precluded any access to my back passage - not that I had ever let Graeme explore that part of my body. Yet despite my lack of alternatives I came very close to not going home at all that first night. I was in a frightful panic. If I told him the truth, he might throw me out. Yet what lie could I tell him that would plausibly explain my condition?
By the time I had summoned up the courage to turn the key in the lock and enter our apartment, I still I had no idea of what to say. Graeme took one look at me, gathered me up in his strong arms and held me while I sobbed uncontrollably. He made soothing noises, but made no attempt to ask why I was so distressed, bless him.
It was only after my crying had subsided and he had brought me a comforting mug of hot Milo that he eventually broached the subject. "Look", he said gently, lightly stroking my tear-stained cheek, "I know you have some strange things going on in your world." He smiled. "I mean, I've known that since I first saw - well, since the first time I met you as Katy. So I understand if there's things you can't tell me, okay?"
He held up a hand to stifle my protest. "I said it's all right and I mean it Katy, I really do. I won't say I'm not curious. I'd love to know more, of course I would. But all that really matters is that you're safe here and that you know I'll look after you as best I can. Because ..." He looked down, took a deep breath, then looked fiercely into my eyes. "I ... well, you, you mean a lot to me, okay?"
He had been about to say something else - and we both knew it. i felt my eyes prickle and it was all I could do not to start weeping again. So instead I kissed him, savouring the familiar feel of his lips and losing myself for a while in the embrace of his strong arms.
By the time I finally broke the kiss, I had found some shreds of dignity and resolve. "I do not deserve you, Graeme Stokes, I really don't." Sighing, I got up to find a tissue, blow my nose and dry my eyes. As I sat back down I brushed the tangled hair out of my face and turned to face him.
"I never intended to look like this, believe me. That was ... someone else's idea. Two someones, in fact. I ... I got into trouble and they've been making me dress this way to ... work off my debt, so to speak. When I'm not here, I take lessons in how to look and dress and act as a woman. I've, well, got pretty good at it, wouldn't you say?" I gave him a tentative smile as he nodded in emphatic agreement. Then I took a deep breath. Here goes nothing, I thought ...
"Thing is though, I don't just have lessons. I'm a, a working girl ... if you get my meaning?" Graeme stared at me for a few seconds, then nodded once, his expression unreadable. "So, you're not the only man I entertain ... though my entertaining days are at end, at least for the time being."
Standing up, too committed now to falter, I pulled down my skirt and panties to reveal the flexible but firmly locked device that held my cock in check. The sight of it brought a shocked look to Graeme's face. "It's some kind of chastity device", I said. "It stops me from getting excited - and no one can play with me either." I went on to explain about the chemical that prevented me from tasting cum, or at least made me sick if I did,
"So you see, I'm not a good girl at all. And I won't lie to you - I like some of my work, or I did at any rate. Enough that the people who control me are going to send me away for a while, maybe for as much as five years. That will be happening soon, I'm afraid. And between now and then, the most I can do for you is give you a hand with, you know ..."
I swallowed and stared down at the floor. "I know these are shocking things to hear. And I would completely understand if you wanted to throw me out on my ear.. But I'm really, really hoping you won't, because I ... well, I really like it here ... and I really want to be with you. If you'll still have me."
Once again, it took a lot of courage to do the smallest thing, this time to look up and meet his gaze. When I did he sighed. "If I'll have you?" he said. "Of course I'll have you, you idiot! Come here!"
And then I was in his arms and the weeping had started again, even though somehow, magically, it was all right. Or at least as all right as it could be in the circumstances ...
He had asked no more questions, saying only that there would always be a place for me with him, when I was free to return. Which I swore I would, even though I knew it was a promise I might well be unable to keep.
But at least our last few weeks together had been relatively happy. We had both decided to make the most of our remaining time, even spending a weekend away in the Blue Mountains, one of my favourite places to visit when I had been a child. We simply didn't talk about my situation or what the future might bring, though it had been hard to keep that resolve as the day of my departure neared.
Our final evening was a sombre affair indeed, and by the time he dropped me off at the station in the morning, I was once again finding it hard to hold back the tears. But he gave me one last hug and told me firmly "It will be okay, you'll see", with such conviction that I had to smile.
By the time I walked into the College, however, that smile had long gone. It did return for a little while during my final session with Lily and Daniel. But even the irrepressible stylists got a little teary when it came time to say our goodbyes. I hugged each of them in turn, thanking them not just for how much they had taught me, but for the good friends they had been.
"You're welcome sweetie", said Daniel, tucking a few of my stray hairs back into place. "Now, off you go to get dressed, otherwise we'll lose our jobs." He shooed me out of the salon door. "Yeah, you can piss off now", added Lily with a smile, "it's not as if you can't do your own makeup. Besides, it's too easy to make you look gorgeous, we need more of a challenge!"
It was with a heavy heart that I left them for the last time and headed to my assigned dressing room. Inside, I found what seemed to be just a few scraps of clothing. But after searching through the drawers and wardrobes, I realised that this was all there was. I held up the main item - such as it was - for inspection. It turned out to be a halter neck lace teddy, with a deep v cut. It would barely have covered my breasts, if I'd had any. As it was, it left almost all my smooth, hairless torso bare.
It was paired with the sheerest of black stockings, with lacy tops that matched the trim on the teddy, and a pair of equally insubstantial black lace panties. I stared at the latter in bemusement, wondering how I could possibly get them over my cage, but then spotted a small key on the dresser.
It was with no little relief that I unlocked and removed the restraint that had been my (almost) constant companion for weeks. Unlike the panties I had previously been used to wearing, the ones chosen for me today had no pouch into which to tuck away my limp cock. I did my best to minimise the lump, but there was no mistaking what I was packing, modest in size though it may have been. Clearly, this was another part of me that was meant to be on display.
Finally, I slipped into a striking pair of pumps. They were pink, with a black lace motif and the kind of 6-inch heels on which I had now become so accustomed to walking.
I inspected myself in the mirror. With slightly heavier makeup than usual and striking red lipstick, my raven tresses left to tumble freely down my back and the wispy lingerie concealing so little, I looked ready to step out on the catwalk at a Victoria's Secret show.
Despite the butterflies in my tummy, I smiled at the reflection. Whatever else had been done to me at the Ceder College, the transformation had been amazing. They had taken the most unimpressive male caterpillar and made him into the sexiest butterfly imaginable. I could almost forgive them for forcing me into it and taking away my freedom of choice ... almost, but not quite.
Still, there were a couple of choices left for me to make, I reflected, while the pretty receptionist Nikki escorted me through the College. Not that I was looking forward to them ...
But all thoughts of what lay ahead of me vanished as I was ushered into a spacious, high-ceilinged room I had not seen before. At one end was a small stage, with rows of chairs drawn up to face it and a large screen on the wall behind. The chairs were currently unoccupied, with perhaps fifty or sixty well-dressed people standing around the back of the room, holding drinks and chatting amiably in groups. The lighting in the room was set fairly low, with little pools of colour creating an atomospheric backdrop.
A waitress, who I recognised from the Club and who might - in comparison to anyone bar me - have been called scantily dressed, handed me a glass of champagne. As I took it, an amplified voice announced "And there she is! Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome ... Katy!"
I was momentarily dazzled as a spotlight found and held me. The guests in my vicinity turned to look at me and a ripple of applause (along with one or two catcalls) went around the hall. Before I came to the College, I would have run and hid from this kind of scrutiny. But months of working at the Club had made me thoroughly accustomed to being stared at. I nonchalantly smiled, held up my glass and blew kisses at those nearby.
"My, you do like the spotlight, don't you? And it just loves you ..." As I stepped out of the glare, my vision struggled to readjust, but I could just about make out the speaker, an older woman. Her hair had grown out since I'd last seen her, but I recognised her face. An image came back to me, of looking up at her sweat-streaked face from between her naked thighs, as she demanded that I eat her out yet again.
"Thank you ma'am", I replied politely. "It's ... Miss Angela, isn't it? It's good of you to come and watch me graduate."
"Good?" she snorted, "nothing good about it, I can assure you. I just wanted to buy me that heavenly mouth of yours. And the rest of you. Though looking at this crowd, I suspect I may be a little out of my league ... Still, nothing ventured, eh?"
She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially in my ear. "If I were you, I'd go easy on the boob size. Men love them big, but they only get in the way - and when you get to my age, you'll be having surgery to reduce them. And get yourself a pussy - it'll be so much more fun than that little pea-shooter you've currently got." She gave my pantied cock a squeeze and stalked off, ignoring my yelp.
For the next half an hour or so, I mingled with the guests, most of whom I'd seen before in the Club, though not quite all. The great majority were men, though Angela was certainly not the only woman present.
I was unsurprised to find Antony in the throng. He too had some advice for me - though characteristically it was put more as a command. "Make sure you get the largest possible breasts - the bigger and more artificial they look, the better", he instructed in his smooth baritone. I nodded uncomittally. The thought of submitting to Antony and his desires was undeniably enticing, though I did worry how long it might be before I got taken down to the dungeon he'd threatened to show me ...
I was still musing on that when a familiar voice behind me said: "I don't remember you wearing so little for me - outside bed, at any rate!" I whirled around and stared in confusion. "What - what on earth are you doing here?"
"Oh, just dropped in for a drink", said Mr Stokes.
I didn't know whether to slap him or kiss him. But months at the College had taught me to be wary, so I did neither. I forced myself to smile, for the benefit of anyone watching us, then said quietly: "Seriously Graeme, how did you even know to find me here? And how did you get in?"
He had the grace to look just a touch ashamed as he replied: "I followed you here a few weeks back, okay? And then I asked around, called in a few favours from some people that I used to - well, never mind, let's just say people I used to work with. It wasn't easy, I can tell you, this place is all very hush-hush - and very well protected. Even this morning, I wasn't sure I'd be able to get in today. But I found a couple of people to nominate me and, well, here I am!" He made an expansive gesture with his hands and gave me an uncertain smile.
My eyes narrowed as I took all this in. "Well, okay ... but you do know what's happening here today, right?" He nodded. A sudden thought struck me. "Wait, you're not -"
I realised that I'd raised my voice, enough to attract some curious looks from those around us. So I paused, moved in closer and, still smiling, hissed at him: "You're not planning to bid for me, are you?" He nodded again, this time more defiantly.
"But how the hell can you afford to do that?" I asked, incredulously. "You're up against people with serious money! There's no way I want you to waste all your savings on ... well, someone like me! I'm just a -" I was about to say "slut", but thought better of it. "I'm just not worth it", I finished, stepping back to stare into his face.
He seemed taken back by my vehemence. "I've talked to the bank -" he began. But whatever he was going to say was cut off by another announcement. "Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats. And can we have our latest graduate to the stage, please?"
I gave Graeme's arm a quick squeeze, flashed him a rueful smile, then hurried - as best I could in my heels - to the front of the hall. I walked up a flight of steps to find Kristin Everett waiting for me, holding a large envelope. She spoke into a cordless microphone.
"And here she is, Ceder College's latest graduate - and one of our most popular, I'm sure you'll agree! If you haven't met her personally and sampled her charms, I'm sure you've enjoyed her best-selling video collection ..."
It took all my self-restraint not to react to this last. But Kristin must have read my mind, because as the crowd voiced their approval she turned to me and said sotto voce: "Available only to our clients, you'll be pleased to hear. And you'll get a cut of the proceeds ... eventually."
She lifted the microphone again and said, in a ringing voice: "it's with great pleasure that on behalf of my brother Gordon, and the directors of Ceder College, I present Miss Katy Riley with her certificate of graduation." As the crowd applauded, she handed me the envelope and kissed me perfunctorily on the cheek. I held up my prize to acknowledge the applause and curtseyed to the seated guests.
Miss Everett held up her hand for silence. "And now, before we go any further, let's take a look at how Katy got here today!"
With a flourish, she pointed up to the screen behind us, which began to show a video montage of my time at the College. "As you can see, she made a very quick transition!"
I watched, fascinated, as the young man I used to be walked hesitantly into the reception area, only for the scene to dissolve into my newly feminised form, shuffling out of the building later that day in my schoolgirl uniform. This prompted laughter and applause, but all I could think of was how awkward and unconvincing my movements were. What anyone looking at me must have thought in those first few days and weeks! And yet at the time I had felt so different ... as of course I was.
To my complete lack of surprise, the highlights reel went on to show me dancing at the Club, then performing at the special client functions. I groaned inwardly as a succession of men and women, their faces carefully blanked out, were brought to orgasm by my willing hands, tongue and mouth. This prompted much acclaim from the audience in the hall, though the biggest cheers were reserved for a skilfully edited sequence in which jet after jet of spunk was blasted into my face, before lingering on a closeup of my cum-covered features.
In the midst of all this I caught a glimpse of Nikki's predecessor, the lovely Grace, as I fucked her on top of the lunch table. Fortunately for my already frazzled state of mind, there were no clips of our first (and, as it proved, only) night together at her apartment. I wondered what she was doing now ...
When the montage finished and the applause died down, Miss Everett beckoned me in close to her. "So", she said, "let's hear from the star herself!" She turned to me, a slight narrowing of her eyes sending me a clear message that I was to play along ... or else. "Katy, do tell us ... Is there a reason why you didn't bother to get dressed today, dear?"
As laughter rang around the hall, I was ready enough to deal with that. I leant into the proffered mike and said, in what I hoped was a low, seductive tone: "Well ma'am, as you've always taught us - if you've got it, flaunt it!"
That prompted more applause. Miss Everett grinned. "Quite so Katy, quite so. But I think it's fair to say that there's more you could be flaunting, wouldn't you agree? Let's take a look ..."
She gestured up at the screen, which showed an image that could only just have been taken, of me standing in my lingerie. "How about we give you some nice boobs to fill out that lovely outfit you aren't quite wearing? Let's start small and work our way up. Some B cups, perhaps?"
As she spoke, the image changed and suddenly I had two small but beautifully formed breasts, the nipples plainly visible through the lacy fabric. "Or larger - maybe a C, or even a D?" The breasts on the screen swelled as she said this, filling out the teddy until the fabric was straining to contain them. "DD ... EE ... oh, I think you may be in trouble here, Katy!"
On the screen, the artfully adjusted image showed an enormous pair of tits bursting out of the teddy, shredding the material. More laughter and applause. "But we can go bigger still ... bigger ... all the way up to XXX I believe ..."
The mock breasts expanded until they were of truly heroic proportions, hanging down to my waist and so huge that I could not possibly imagine being able to stand upright.
"So, Katy", said Miss Everett, turning back to me and smiling ominously. "It's time to choose. Do you want breasts? And if so, what size?" Before giving me a chance to answer, she swung round and called out: "Any advice for her, ladies and gentlemen? Should she get some boobs?"
The audience seemed in no doubt that I should, but I could barely hear their shouted suggestions, so panicked was I feeling. It had come to this and I still didn't know what to do! I closed my eyes and thought about what I'd just seen on the screen ... and then suddenly I did know, after all.
Opening my eyes, I leaned into the microphone, waited for a hush to descend, then said in a quiet but firm voice: "Yes please, ma'am - and B cup."
Once again, the hall broke into applause, though there were one or two cries of disapproval. Somewhere out there, I knew - though the lights on the stage prevented me from seeing the audience - Antony would be frowning. If I ended up with him, I suspected I would be in for some serious punishment for defying his wishes ...
But that was for the future. For now, I had a more immediate decision to make - whether to complete my transformation and get female sex organs, or to retain the unimpressive cock that was curled up inside my panties. And once that was decided, to undergo an auction that would decide how I would spend the next year - or possibly five years.
As I turned and caught Miss Everett's eye, I saw that she was waiting for me, an expectant expression on her handsome face ...
[To be concluded]