2.3: Sissification
Chapter Four
As Natalie had anticipated, her final days in the Bartley household felt bittersweet.
Bitter because Natalie began to have some regrets about her affair with Dick. In the final month of her sissy training, Dick instructed his wife, Eve, to sleep on a cot in a corner of the master bedroom while Natalie shared his bed. In addition to watching them have passionate sex, which often stretched late into the night, Eve had listened as Natalie told Dick about how special it made her feel to be his lover.
He insisted that all of it turned Eve on. I get it that alpha males have the power and the right to humiliate, but was it crossing the line to have Eve hear my innermost thoughts about the sexual love I shared with her husband? I don’t know.
Sweet because Dick was extra attentive, especially on Natalie’s last few nights as his girlfriend. Dick had bought her a silver necklace with an angel wing and his initials on the oval disk.
“Something to remember me by,” Dick told her as tears of bliss began to well in Natalie’s blue eyes.
“Won’t I see you at my Master’s mansion?” she asked, grasping his hand.
“You will, but it will be different. Your Master has informed me that when he takes possession of you, our intimacies must end. Natalie, you will obey your Master.”
Dick clasped the necklace, softly kissing the nape of her neck as they looked into the floor-length mirror.
“Beautiful, such a special gesture,” she told him.
Natalie turned to meet his kiss. As she had done often since becoming Dick’s lover, she melted into his chest, enjoying his lush, thick hair. He stroked her blonde hair, which had grown to her lower back. She snaked her hand down to the front of his pants, feeling the hardness of his cock.
“I got you something else,” Dick said. “I left it in the bathroom.”
Dick had undressed and was waiting in bed when Natalie returned. The white silk catsuit looked stunning on her tall frame. He also had left her a pair of white pumps with ballet heels by the side of the bed.
Natalie’s sissy training had stretched over a year, but time had accelerated and felt like a blur to Dick -- the first time he saw her, his initial flirtations, the gold hoop earrings he bought her; their first kiss, her lips wrapped around his cockhead through the spandex of his swim trunks by the pool, waking up with an erection every morning in bed with her and her feverish desire to perform fellatio on him. All of these images flashed through his mind as she gracefully slid into bed.
“I don’t want to go,” she whispered.
“You won’t be going anywhere for a while,” he said with a smile, pointing to the nine-inch heels. She slipped the pumps on, obedient as ever. He swiftly locked the padlocks around her ankles.
“I don’t want you to go, but you must,” he added firmly. Natalie nodded. The one constant in their relationship had been his dominance, his authority as a man. In the past year, she had observed him closely. He had seemed mysterious at first, but now she knew all about him. He was confident, but not arrogant. He loved money, but only because it fed his hedonism.
Dick ran his hands over the expensive silk on her hips. She felt his leg brush against her. She reached behind to slowly caress his large ass.
“Your masculinity drives me fucking wild,” she said.
“Ha! Wait till you meet your Master. You’ll know masculinity then,” he replied.
Months later, she would recall those words, feeling like she had entered a long, dark tunnel after parting ways with Dick Bartley. It became a recurring dream, how Xavier opened that door at the tunnel’s entrance and she had followed him through, not knowing what her life would become.
For now, she gripped Dick’s cock and slowly rubbed it against the silk. For an hour, they remained in their private world -- hugging, caressing, whispering, kissing until he came again and again. His thick cum soaked the catsuit on her upper thigh and waist.
“I love you, Natalie.”
In the morning, a delivery man dropped a package off at the Bartleys’ front door. Mrs. Bartley felt a wave of relief. Natalie’s flight was scheduled to depart in just eight hours. Mrs. Bartley took the package to the master bedroom.
“Something has arrived for you,” she told Natalie, who was packing her belongings.
Natalie knew what that meant. She opened the box, removing the custom-made black PVC French maid dress.
“It’s even more beautiful than I thought it would be,” Natalie said. She hugged Mrs. Bartley, who pointed out the high neck with a lockable function, the boned removable cincher, and the matching ruffled PVC panties with a zip crotch and a lock.
“Let’s make sure it fits,” Mrs. Bartley said. Natalie undressed as Mrs. Bartley headed for the closet to get the rest of the outfit. Xavier had specific instructions on what else Natalie should wear.
The maid dress -- known as the candy cupcake for its style -- fit perfectly, thanks to Mrs. Bartley’s precise measurements.
Natalie never had seen Mrs. Bartley cry this hard – until now.
“Tears of joy,” Mrs. Bartley said as she hugged Natalie. Mrs. Bartley tried to fight the tears. Over the past year, Natalie had a growth spurt. She was now 5’7”. Mrs. Bartley handed her the black satin garter belt, black silk hose with a seam up the back, and black pumps with a stiletto heel. In the heels, she was a cool 6 feet tall.
“You look like a supermodel,” Mrs. Bartley told her. “A year ago, you were wearing boy’s baggy jeans and had hairy legs.”
Natalie laughed with her. For Mrs. Bartley, the memories of the past year felt overwhelming. It would take time to process them.
“Your housemother said she wanted to do a video call with us when you tried your maid dress on,” Mrs. Bartley said.
“Housemother?”
“Yes, she is in charge of the sissies. Talk about a tough job. She lives in the mansion fill-time. Her name is Paula Pokovsky. She wants to give you some information before the flight. I think you will really like her.”
Mrs. Bartley grabbed her laptop and clicked on the Zoom link.
“Good morning, Paula. It’s Eve. I’m here with Natalie Everett.”
“Hello, Eve. It’s great to meet you, Natalie. We’re so excited about your arrival later today. Can I see your dress?”
Natalie stood and twirled.
“Wow, that’s a stunner, Natalie,” Paula said. “Black suits you.”
“Thank you, Ms. Pokovsky.”
“As I’m sure Mrs. Bartley told you, I will be your housemother. I just wanted to share a few things with you before the flight.
“First, I want to congratulate you on graduating from the sissy training program. This is a great accomplishment. As you know, you will be employed as a sissy maid. When this call ends, I will send you an employment contract, the term being one year, with options to renew. It will outline the pay and the benefits.
“Once you sign the contract, you will become the property of your Master, whose first name is Xavier. He is a native of Mexico who moved to the United States to pursue opportunity. He is a successful businessman who demands privacy. As the contract stipulates, you and everyone else in his employ, including me, do not speak about anything that happens in the mansion or outside it that involves Xavier.
“The pilot who will fly you to Phoenix is a trusted friend of Xavier’s, Captain Tim Tillis, who is a retired Air Force captain. Xavier has a tradition. He does not take title to sissies until they spend time with Captain Tillis, who is a very skillful daddy. Do I have your consent for Captain Tillis to pleasure you, young lady?”
“Yes, you do, Ms. Pokovsky,” Natalie replied. Mrs. Bartley already had briefed Natalie on all things Captain Tillis.
“Well, I think that’s all for now. Congratulations again, Natalie. We’ll see you this evening. Have a safe flight.”
A few minutes later, the contract arrived. Natalie read it closely and signed her name. Driving Natalie to the private airfield where Captain Tillis waited to ferry her to Phoenix, Mrs. Bartley almost forgot to remove her chastity device.
“It’s OK,” Natalie said. “I masturbate only with my derriere-pussy, like a proper sissy.”
“Xavier wants it removed.”
“His wish is my command then,” Natalie said.
Mrs. Bartley kissed Natalie on the cheek and they embraced in a long hug. She watched Natalie walk along the tarmac to the private plane, her hips swaying in the sexy satin dress. On the drive home, Mrs. Bartley sobbed, her body shaking as the reality set in that Natalie was gone.
Natalie was scared when she saw the two black SUVs speed toward the plane at the small airport outside Phoenix; the occupants in sunglasses and black suits with guns drawn.
“It’s going to be OK, Natalie,” Captain Tillis assured her, sliding her black PVC panties up her long legs after her sissygasm. “These assholes are coming for me. I’m not going to let them do anything with you. We’ll get you to the mansion tout de suite.”
Captain Tillis sent an encrypted text to Xavier.
<Just landed with Natalie. The feds are here. Looks like they’re going to put me under arrest>
<“OK. I’ll call Armando. Don’t worry about it. You’ll be out in no time> Xavier referred to his best attorney. <I’ll have Paula pick up Natalie.>
Captain Tillis turned to Natalie. “I’m very sorry for all of this, sweetie. Your Master is a success story and that unfortunately makes him a target for the feds. They’re trying to get at him through me. It’s pathetic. It won’t work. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Natalie was confused. Captain Tillis’ cell phone rang. It was one of the FBI agents on the tarmac.
“Yes, I’m surrendering,” Captain Tillis told the agent. “I just need 15 minutes for my passenger to get her ride.”
When the brief call ended, Captain Tillis told Natalie that Paula Pokovsky would drive her to the mansion. The FBI agents didn’t know what to make of Natalie as she walked down the stairs to the four-door Mercedes waiting for her, a small suitcase in tow.
Why would a maid wear such high heels? The skirt seemed awfully short for a domestic. But who the fuck knows these days?
Paula greeted Natalie with a hug.
“I’m sorry that this is your introduction to Phoenix,” Paula said.
From the back seat, Natalie watched Captain Tillis deplane. The agents told him to hold his hands up. They handcuffed him and roughly pushed him into one of the black SUVs. Naturally, Paula was distracted as she pulled onto the freeway.
What would the criminal charges be against Captain Tillis? He told me he was reluctant to fly Leigh-Anne to Mexico, but he wouldn’t tell me why. And it was none of my business. We’ve known for a year that the feds are trying to nail Xavier for human trafficking. What a bunch of bullshit. None of it is true.
Paula quickly returned her attention to Natalie, who was studying the landscape.
“Have you ever been to Phoenix, sweetie?”
“No, Ms. Pokovsky. I’ve never been west or south of Kansas.”
“I think you’ll like it. The mansion is close enough to enjoy the city, but far enough away to give us a feel for the desert’s beauty. We call it the valley of the sun,” Paula said.
Natalie said she had a question and asked permission to pose it.
“Of course, Natalie.”
“Ms. Pokovsky, what is Xavier like and how long have you worked for him?”
“I’ve been the housemother for three years. Xavier recruited me. He’s a businessman who has profited enormously from the close economic relationship between the U.S. and Mexico. That’s his public side. You are about to become part of his personal life. Xavier is the consummate alpha male.
“I need to confide in you about a few things. You will meet Xavier shortly after you arrive at the mansion. There also will be a reception with the other sissies tonight. There is, not surprisingly, a lot of curiosity about you because you are wearing the black maid dress. My advice would be for you to just relax and take things slow. You’ll need time to learn your job as a maid. It’s not the easiest of transitions.
“The other thing is you will be branded tonight by Xavier. I’m sure you saw that in the contract.”
“I did, Ms. Pokovsky. Mrs. Bartley also told me about it. I’m scared it will hurt.”
“I won’t sugarcoat it,” Paula said, looking at Natalie in the rear-view mirror. “It’s painful, but it represents the permanent bond you will have with your Master. You should know that you likely won’t have much contact with Xavier for the first three or four months. It’s his practice to move slowly with his new sissies. It may be frustrating for you, but he has invested a lot of money in you and he wants to make sure you are acclimated,” Paula said.
“I understand, Ms. Pokovsky.”
Natalie was going to ask what exactly she was being acclimated for, but she thought otherwise. Mrs. Bartley had given her a good picture of what lay ahead.
There will be plenty of time for questions.
Xavier’s mansion could not be seen from the two-lane roadway running through the desert in a long, straight line. After being waved through at one of the security guard shacks, Paula drove for another 20 minutes before the massive house came into view. Set on a hill, the site offered panoramic views of the mountains and downtown Phoenix below. Natalie felt overwhelmed with the realization this would be her new home.
The sissies were lined up at the front entrance, all wearing maid dresses identical to those of Natalie’s but in pink. The only exception was Alexis, who wore the red satin sissy maid dress that signified who was Xavier’s favorite.
“Welcome, Natalie. We’re so glad you are here,” said Alexis, introducing herself as she handed Natalie a red rose.
The sissies applauded as Paula and Alexis escorted Natalie through the front door to the large central hallway. Entering one of the parlors, Paula introduced Natalie to Xavier and then excused herself.
“Welcome to your new home, Natalie,” Xavier said.
“Thank you, Master. It’s an honor to meet you.”
Natalie curtsied. Impressed by her demeanor, Xavier kissed her hand.
“I’ve waited patiently for your arrival,” Xavier said, inviting Natalie to sit on the small pink couch as he stood. “I’m sure you have expressed your appreciation to Mrs. Bartley for your training.” Natalie said she had.
Xavier wore a blue paisley shirt made of silk, black jeans, and black cowboy boots. His black hair was cut stylishly short. His mustache and beard were lightly trimmed. His voice was calm and measured.
“I want to make sure that your transition to living and working in the mansion is smooth. You are likely not to have much contact with me for the first few months. I want to make sure you know that is not a reflection on you. It’s just the way I operate,” he said.
Natalie said she understood. Xavier told her to enjoy herself at the reception, and he would pick her up toward the end for the branding.
“And it’s not as bad as they say, depending on your tolerance for pain,” he added, filing out of the parlor.
Natalie felt pleasantly overwhelmed as the sissies gathered around her in an adjoining room. Paula introduced Natalie, who ended up chatting with nearly all of them. They drank pink lemonade and enjoyed finger sandwiches.
When the reception ended an hour later, Xavier returned to the parlor and took Natalie by the hand. He led her to an elevator, which descended to a dimly-lit hallway. At the end was a large dungeon.
“Are you nervous?” Xavier asked.
Natalie nodded.
“My symbol is a small X that will be branded on your upper leg to the right of your clitty. This is not just about marking you as my property. This also is about marking a rite of passage – in this case, you becoming a sissy. By enduring the pain, you will enter into a more heightened state of awareness,” he said.
Xavier told Natalie to undress. He bound her to the St. Andrews cross before putting on gloves. He assured Natalie that the equipment was sterilized. She screamed as Xavier placed small strips of heated stainless steel on her skin to make the X symbol. Natalie felt faint, but the burning did not last long. Xavier applied therapeutic salve and covered the brand with plastic wrap.
Xavier wrapped a pink silk robe around Natalie and carried her onto the elevator, which took them to the third floor, where her bedroom was located. In the mirror, he showed her the brand.
“It’s beautiful, Master.”
“You’re a sissy now, Natalie, my sissy. From now on, you will be addressed as sissy natalie.”
True to his word, Natalie rarely saw Xavier for three months, catching only glimpses of him as he walked through the mansion. She went through a lengthy orientation -- dusting, hand washing dishes, and sweeping floors. Natalie also made friends, almost exclusively with the sissies who lived on her floor. Among them was Regina, a pretty brunette originally from Belgium.
At lunch one day, Regina asked if Natalie had been invited to work at one of the “socials.” Natalie said she had not.
“Oh, it won’t be long until you are,” Regina said with a smile.
Natalie asked what a social was; if it was different than a party. Regina tried to be coy, but Natalie was persistent with her question.
“Usually, four or five of us are invited to work at one of the socials in the mansion,” Regina said. “There are usually 20 to 30 guys who know Xavier. I shouldn’t call them guys. The better word is ‘gentlemen.’ They’re usually in their 30s or 40s and very successful. It’s different from a party because only a few of the gentlemen win the favor of a sissy.”
A week later, as Regina had predicted, Natalie received an invitation. Paula Pokovsky said she needed half an hour to talk. They met in Paula’s office.
“sissy natalie, Xavier wants you to work at the social Friday night. You’ll be working as a table.”
“A table?”
“Yes, your assignment will be to rest on your hands and knees on the carpet. Don’t worry, it’s really thick carpet. A sheet of glass will be placed on your back. The guests will be able to rest their drinks or hors d’oeuvres there. You won’t be the only one. Four of the other girls will be working as tables, too.”
Natalie was speechless. Paula had seen this shocked expression many times when sissies were asked to play this role. Humor was the best response, she had found.
“sissy natalie, you may be wondering, ‘why a table?’ ” Paula said. Natalie nodded.
“Well, you’ll be a pretty table, don’t you think, sissy natalie?”
Natalie laughed.
“And tables are very important, if you think about it. There will be some very special gentlemen at this social. I’m sure you will want to impress them by showing that you can keep that piece of glass absolutely still. Won’t you, sissy natalie?”
“I will, Ms. Pokovsky, but for how long, may I ask?”
“For one hour,” Paula replied.
On the night of the social, an older woman showed up at Natalie’s bedroom to do her hair, her nails and to give her a pedicure. Paula arrived with a cocktail dress, made of red spandex, off the shoulder with a high hemline.
“No bra,” Paula instructed Natalie. “But you need to wear these panties.” She handed Natalie the underwear, also made of red spandex.
“There’s a gentleman who is interested in you. I can’t tell you who he is. He’s requested VPL.”
“VPL?” Natalie said.
“Visible panty lines, sissy natalie. It’s among his fetishes; all the sissies will be showing lines,” Paula said.
“When you say interested in me, does Xavier know?”
“Of course, sissy natalie. He has shown a picture of you to this gentleman. We’ll see what happens. Your Master wants what is best for you.”
Paula could tell Natalie was getting emotional.
“I know all of this is rather abrupt and kinky. My advice is that you have fun with it,” Paula said.
The social was held in the billiards room, adjacent to the library. The other sissies were Alexis and Leigh-Anne and two others that Natalie had met, but didn’t remember their names.
As Natalie lowered herself to the thick, luxurious carpet, Paula placed the sheet of glass on her back. Natalie had practiced balancing all week. It wasn’t too difficult, but it required that she keep her head down. As the gentlemen filtered into the social, she could see only their shoes and the bottom of their pants. Soon, the conversations became indistinct male chatter.
Xavier had instructed his guests to not address the sissies, but they were free to admire the “furniture.”
“Here’s a beautiful one,” a gentleman commented as he placed his champagne flute on the glass that Natalie’s back held up. He wore a distinctive pair of cowboy boots – black with a small insignia of a playing card. His voice was deep and he sounded like a mature man, Natalie thought.
When the social ended, that man swept into Xavier’s office.
“My choice is sissy natalie,” the man told Xavier.
“You have great taste, General Benton,” Xavier said. “I’ll make it happen.”
It had been a year since General Benton of the U.S. Army had approached a member of Xavier’s family in Mexico. He had been obtuse at first, only saying he had information that could be valuable to the cartel. The family member relayed the contact to Hector, Xavier’s cousin, and the codename for the leader of the cartel.
Hector didn’t trust General Benton. He ordered the family member to carefully maintain contact with the general and find out everything they could about him. Over that year, the family member learned that General Benton wanted money in exchange for information about the details of future U.S. drug interdictions – lots of money. He also wanted to meet Xavier. The family member asked why.
“I’ve heard he has quite the harem in the desert. I’d like to play.”
Xavier and his family referred to him only as B.
“B., I’d like to introduce you to Natalie; she’s the newest sissy on staff,” Xavier said, lighting a cigar and offering B. one.
<Paula, please bring sissy natalie to my office> Xavier texted.
A few minutes later, Natalie knocked on the door and Xavier told her to enter. There was a haze of cigar smoke above both men.
“sissy natalie, I want you to meet B. He was at the social. He’s a close friend of mine.”
“It’s an honor to meet you, Sir.”
B. nodded, studying Natalie’s expression. She was beautiful, her blue eyes enchanting and her blonde hair framing her face. She wore eyeliner and fire-engine red lipstick. Her panty lines framed an impressive ass.
Xavier said: “sissy natalie, B. will be your Master for this weekend. You will obey him as you obey me. He will be taking you to a property in Mexico owned by my family, known as The Ranch. Paula has packed your things. B. will pick you up tomorrow morning. Do you have any questions?”
“How do I address him, Master?”
“As Master B.”
B. looked about 60, Natalie estimated. He was handsome, with a square jaw and a gray crewcut. His voice had a gravelly Southern accent, a product of being born on the Florida panhandle.
“I’ll pick you up at 09-hundred tomorrow,” B. told Natalie as he left.
Xavier asked Natalie to stay. He poured two glasses of red wine.
“I’ve told B. that he can’t have your virginity. That’s mine. But beyond that, there are no constraints. sissy natalie. As you may guess, he is an alpha male and an experienced dominant. I will share with you that he has never been with a sissy, but he has expressed an interest in being with one for a year.
“You cannot discuss your weekend with B. with anyone -- except for me. I can’t tell you anything more about him, other than he is part of the U.S. military and very important to me and my family.”
Natalie said she understood, but it was all happening too fast.
But she felt like she couldn’t say that.
The following day was sunny and cooler than usual, 70 degrees Fahrenheit. B. picked Natalie up at the front door of the mansion on his motorcycle and they rode to the small airfield nearby. He wore a denim shirt and jeans, and brown cowboy boots.
Natalie told him she never had flown in a helicopter. B. made her feel at ease.
“I’ve been flying for 40 years. You’re safe with me, sissy natalie” he said, as he strapped her into the passenger seat.
B. said he never had been to The Ranch, but Xavier had told him all about it. It was about 50 miles south of the U.S. border.
“There’s a small river that runs through the property. I thought we’d get settled, then have a picnic, get to know each other better. It’s such a nice day,” he said.
From the air, Natalie was astounded by the size of The Ranch. B. had pointed out the fence along the northern edge. The land seemed to go on and on. The ranch consisted of about 5,000 acres, B. told her. The ranch house’s Hacienda architecture featured white stucco walls, red clay roof tiles, and heavy, rustic wood accents.
A BMW was waiting at the airfield where the helicopter landed. The Ranch was a short drive. B. carried Natalie’s suitcase, along with his, into the master bedroom.
“Why don’t you unpack and get settled, sissy natalie? I need to check in with the security people. They’re in a guard shack. I want to make sure they are vigilant but give us the privacy that we deserve.”
Natalie nodded. Hearing B. drive away, she decided to look around. The ranch house had been built for a couple and was decorated impeccably. In the kitchen, she looked into the refrigerator and saw that someone had made two picnic lunches and there was a bottle of red wine. She heard the BMW pull into the driveway and saw it was B, who emerged out of a cloud of dust.
“I spoke with two security guards who promised they’ll be invisible but prepared for any threats. And they gave me directions to the river that runs through the property. Are you ready, sissy natalie?”
Natalie nodded. She had changed from jeans and a pink cotton blouse to a ruffle wrap dress in dotted coral that tied at the side, and brown cowgirl boots. B. grabbed the picnic lunches, placing them in a basket with the bottle of wine and an opener. The river was not far from the ranch house. They walked to the riverbank. B. spread out a red striped blanket.
“I’ve never been on a picnic, Master B.,” Natalie said.
“Really?” B. poured her a glass of wine as she began to eat her sandwich. “Where are you from, sissy natalie?”
“From a suburb of Kansas City, kind of boring,” she added.
“Oh, I bet you made it interesting,” B. said with a warm smile. Her first impression was of a masculinity that was deeply ingrained in him. He talked about growing up poor in Florida and not planning to make the military his career.
“It just kind of happened. My wife and I had to move several times. She died ten years ago.”
Natalie expressed her condolences. To her surprise, B. told her he was a general in the U.S. Army. Xavier had told her he was a “high-ranking member of the U.S. military,” but had not mentioned rank.
“That sounds exciting, Master B.,” Natalie said. She blushed slightly, realizing the comment might make her sound vacuous.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he said. “There’s a lot of stress.”
‘Well, you’ve picked a great place to relax, Master B,” Natalie said.
“I’ve picked a beautiful sissy with which to relax.”
“Thank you for those kind words, Master B.”
B. tasted the wine and studied Natalie’s body language. He could tell she wanted him to kiss her, but it was too early. She noticed he had a gun tucked into his brown cowboy boot and he had quite the hard-on. She wanted to free that snake, but it was too early.
“I don’t think I asked Xavier how old you are,” he said.
“I just turned 20, Master B.”
He wished her a belated happy birthday and asked what it was like being a sissy maid.
“Oh, it’s fun. So far, so good. I received great training in Kansas, but I’m still learning the job, Master B.”
B. talked about his military service. He didn’t brag, but Natalie felt like he wanted her to know about the power he possessed. Natalie listened closely, but he quickly lost her. There was a lot she didn’t understand, such as the many acronyms he used. He also talked about his inner life, how he and his wife never had children, and had little time for fun – or sex for that matter.
After chatting, B. and Natalie took a long walk by the river, pausing to enjoy the sunset that streaked the sky in purple and orange. B. kissed her and they walked hand in hand back to the ranch house. Natalie felt safe and comfortable with him.
B. lit some wood in the fireplace and asked if she wanted another glass of wine. She said yes and when he returned to the living room, they sat on a small couch in front of the fireplace.
“I have a great deal of respect for your master,” B. confided in her. “Xavier does not support the U.S. drug war and after many years, I’ve concluded I do not support it either.”
Natalie didn’t know what Master B. meant. He talked about it more, but again, it was beyond her. She hadn’t heard of a drug war. Fortunately, he changed the topic.
“You caught my attention at the social., sissy natalie.”
“Oh, when I was a table?” she said, laughing.
“You were a sexy table. That took a lot of self-control,” B. said.
“It did – and patience, Master B.”
“Tell me more.”
“Well, the first thing was to make sure the glass on my back didn’t fall. But I also needed to control my emotions and desires. I couldn’t look up. By the way, were you the one in the black cowboy boots that had a small insignia of a playing card?”
“The ace of spades. It’s a death card. We used it in Vietnam.”
Natalie nodded. B. moved closer to her.
“In the master bedroom, I’ve left an outfit for you. Go now, sissy natalie.”
Natalie felt her heart pound as she walked away. Entering the bedroom, she found a box on the bed. Inside was a black latex catsuit and a pair of black leather, high-heel ankle boots with small locks for the ankles, a hand-written note, and a large bottle of lubricant.
“Take a long shower, coat your body and the inside of the catsuit with the lubricant, and text me when you’re done,” said the handwritten note, signed “Master B.”
The warm water soothed Natalie. After drying off from the long shower, she turned her attention to the outfit. Her chief concern was not to rip the catsuit. She used a liberal amount of lubricant and easily pulled it up her body; a perfect fit. She put on the ankle boots, keeping the locks open, knowing that was Master B.’s domain. Ninety minutes had passed.
<I’m ready, Master B>
B. entered the bedroom a few minutes later. He had changed clothes, but still was dressed casually. He wore a black short-sleeve T shirt, jeans, and the black cowboy boots he had worn at the social.
“sissy natalie, you said it required patience to be a table at the social, to keep that glass top on your back. I am going to test your quiet, steady perseverance, even-tempered care, diligence.
The hood had two openings at the top for hair. B. braided her long blonde hair. It felt great, and Natalie concluded it was a skill that every man should possess. When he was done, he placed a large black leather collar around her neck with a thick silver chain attached to it; a padlock at the neck. He attended to the smaller padlocks on her ankle boots. With a tug on the chain, he summoned her forward.
“Are we leaving the bedroom, Master B?”
“Do not speak unless I address you, sissy natalie.”
“I apologize, Master B, for my inappropriate behavior.” Natalie took small steps as she followed him.
“I will discipline you for every mistake you make, sissy natalie. I’m not someone to be trifled with. Do you understand me?”
“I do, Master B. I apologize again.”
B. spanked her right ass cheek, eliciting a piercing scream from Natalie, partly from surprise. As he alternated spanking her latex-covered cheeks with his open hand, she braced herself against the wall of the hallway. B. was a powerful man, well aware of Natalie’s challenge of remaining upright on the five-inch stiletto heels of her ankle boots.
B. sensed she was on the edge of falling. Halting the spanking after ten blows, B. led her down a hallway. She heard the sound of machinery and guessed correctly it was an elevator. B. tightened his grip on the chain as they waited for the car.
Once inside, it sounded like he was using a key. The elevator descended. Natalie counted the seconds – 30. She could hear a door open and B. led her inside. The dungeon was large, the brick walls illuminated solely by a torch which B. had placed in a holder.
He attached a black latex blindfold to the hood. Natalie’s mouth and nostrils remained uncovered
“sissy natalie, why does Xavier have you wear the black sissy maid dress?”
“Because I’m bad, Master B.”
Natalie felt his right hand move slowly down her back to the latex clinging to every curve of her derriere-pussy.
“How bad are you?” In the darkness from the blindfold, Natalie lost the nuance in his question.
“Master B., what do you mean?”
“What did you do to earn the privilege of wearing the black sissy maid dress?”
“I had an affair with the husband of my trainer,” she replied.
“Dick Bartley?”
“Yes, Master B.”
“Is it true that you sucked his cock hundreds of times in front of his wife, your trainer?”
“It is true, Master B.”
B. attached her arms and legs to the St. Andrews cross, with the front of her body facing him. He held a short whip. She screamed as the whip struck the upper part of her right leg, then the left. He draped the whip on the back of her neck, using it to force her face closer to his. He removed the blindfold, studying her light black eyeshadow and fire engine red lipstick. He resumed whipping her.
“Do you like the pain, sissy natalie?”
“Yes, Master B.”
The blows came harder. She was bound loosely enough so that her body could move. Her sharp yelps filled the dungeon, but it was just a start. He trailed the whip over her breasts and down to her tiny clitty encased in black latex. He changed her position on the cross so that her back faced him. The whip rained down on Natalie’s ass. Her screams led to more intense blows, eventually leaving purple bruises.
This is a sadist. He’s savoring my pain.
He kissed and licked the latex of her hood. When the session ended, B. led Natalie to the master bedroom.
“Do you need to go to the bathroom, sissy natalie?”
“Yes, Master B.” He walked her to the large bathroom and unzipped the crotch of her catsuit. He watched as she urinated. Returning to the bedroom, he told her to lower herself to a kneeling position.
“You need to crawl forward. I will tell you when to stop, sissy natalie.”
Natalie moved on her hands and knees.
“Stop,” B. told her. He locked the cage and attached the chain to one of its bars. From the bed, he watched her lay on her side, the start of a fitful sleep.
In the morning, Natalie found a bowl of milk in the cage. B. told her to drink it. He then unlocked the cage and told her to get out.
“You need to undress and put on the outfit I’ve left for you on the bed.”
“A body has been found on the edge of the ranch,” B. told her. “I’ll be tied up with the authorities for a few hours.”
Natalie was intrigued by the dress: retro-style, lace tea-length in green. After carefully peeling the latex catsuit off, she took a long shower and washed her hair. The dress had sewn-in petticoat netting and was made of lace, organza and satin. It came with green satin pumps with a strap.
Natalie cleaned the master bedroom, kitchen and living room. B. returned with three Mexican men. After introducing Natalie to them, he asked her to stay in the bedroom. From the door, she could hear them speak in Spanish, which she didn’t understand, and also in English. She heard one of them say “cash” and another told B. to “count it to make sure.”
When the men left, she was sitting on the bed when B. entered.
“How do you like the dress?” he asked.
“I love it, Master B.”
“I picked it out. It’s a prom dress. Will you go to the prom with me, sissy natalie?”
Natalie slipped off his shirt. She ran her fingers over his impressive abs. He kissed her as his hands circled her waist. Natalie lowered herself to the floor. She removed his cowboy boots, jeans and underwear.
“You know what happens after the prom,” she said, looking up into his eyes.
She slid her tongue slowly over his hot, eager cockhead.
“I can feel it throb, Master B.”
“It’s been so long,” he replied, his head thrown back for a second, then returning to her gaze.
She couldn’t wait another second to perform fellatio on him. Wrapping her lips around his big shaft, she took more of him. He moaned as she moved her head up and down swiftly around his fuck stick, her left hand pumping his cock as she reveled in the hunger she felt for him.
There was no cage for Natalie that night. In the large, luxurious bed, they fell asleep in each other’s arms, like husband and wife.
Natalie overslept. Finding a pink silk teddie in the closet, she found B. in the kitchen, making breakfast for them. He had a large white flower for her hair.
So romantic. So thoughtful.
She had expected him to reference the night before, but he didn’t. He was different from Dick Bartley, she told herself. He seemed taciturn at times, perhaps even vulnerable in other instances. The contrast between their encounters fascinated her -- black latex and whipping, and day later green satin and a white flower in her hair.
“I hope you’re hungry, sissy natalie,” he said, emptying the frying pan of eggs and hash brown onto two plates.
“I am, Master B. Thank you for making breakfast.”
“You have impeccable manners. Can we thank your trainer for that?”
“Yes, Master B. My parents, too.”
He grasped her hand and kissed it. She moved over to sit on his lap, feeling his erection through his old jeans. He smiled and kissed her lightly on the lips.
“May I share something with you, Master B?”
“You may, sissy natalie.”
“It turns me on that you’re a general,” she said.
He smiled and added: “Something you can’t discuss with others; my rank I mean, right?”
“I won’t breathe a word, Master B. Cross my heart.”
B. asked why it turned her on.
“Is power an aphrodisiac, Master B.?”
“For some it is,” he said.
He began to unzip her dress, her back to him as she sat on his lap. Lowering the top of the dress, he unhooked her 34C bra and caressed her breasts, his fingers light on her erect nipples. Reaching under the long organza skirt, he slipped off her white lace panties and then pulled the dress off. He unbuckled her pumps and she kicked them off.
“Master B., will you use your fingers to fuck me?” she asked in a near-whisper.
He told her to follow him into the master bedroom. He grabbed a tube of KY jelly as she lay on the bed. Spreading her legs, Natalie watched as B. lubed her derriere-pussy. He made sure to take his time, using one finger coated with lubricant in her tight channel.
Natalie felt the second finger enter her.
“Oh God, it’s so tight, Master B.,” she said. “Fuck me.”
She couldn’t control her moans as he moved those two fingers in and out, moving slowly, knowing she needed to get used to the sensation.
“It feels like a cock, Master B., your big dick.”
As he moved in and out faster, she told him: “Fuck me nice and hard.” He responded by quickening the pace. “I want you to make it gape. God yes, Master B. I’m going to come.”
Her anal sissygasm felt like a clench, the pleasure grasping her tightly and then filling her body. Master B leaned forward and kissed her, their tongues dancing in a long French kiss.
They enjoyed the after-glow. As Natalie took a short nap, B. walked outside, to the river where he and Natalie had enjoyed their picnic. Using a satellite phone that could not be traced, he called Xavier.
“I presume your shipment arrived without incident,” B. said. Xavier said it had.
On the helicopter ride to Phoenix that night, B. tried to tell Natalie how he was helping Xavier and his family.
But Natalie said she didn’t want to know; that she just wanted to spend time with him. Landing at a small airfield near Xavier’s mansion, she sucked B.’s cock twice, swallowing his pungent semen.
Over the next six months, at the direction of Xavier, Natalie would spend several weekends at The Ranch with B. Xavier made it clear he felt no jealousy about their liaisons. The sex that B. and Natalie shared grew more intimate as time passed. B. occasionally would muse about retiring and running off with Natalie to a secluded island. Natalie did not love B., but she liked spending time with him and the sex was hot.
One night, Xavier summoned Natalie to his office. From his expression, she could tell he had something to tell her.
“sissy natalie, I have something difficult to tell you. B. was killed tonight in a helicopter crash about ten miles south of the border. The Mexican authorities say it appears to be a mechanical failure.”
Holding Natalie tightly, Xavier did his best to calm her.
“I’ll never see him again,” she said as her tears flowed.
Xavier invited Natalie to spend the night with him. He knew she would be upset at B.’s sudden death. He never told her about the circumstances of B.’s death; how his family felt the general began to know too much about their business. Natalie didn’t ask about Xavier’s dealings with B. or question whether his death was an accident.
He found Natalie to be the model of obedience. He told her this one night as she modelled a black leather mini-skirt for him.
“It’s time for you to learn how obedience is pleasure,” he said.