“Red,” Gideon whimpered. “Red! I’ve said the safe word over and over. Please...”
Mistress Simone chuckled, lifting the cat o’ nine tails so that the thongs cut a slow, lazy figure eight in the air. “I’m not sure,” she said, in a sing-song voice, “that ‘Red’ is really your safe word.
Gideon’s full, glossy lips trembled. “Please, Mistress...”
“My dear, BDSM is about pushing you to places you didn’t think you could go. In this case, it means total submission. Do you understand? I control your hormones, your access to bathrooms, your body. Everything you were is now mine. This is total surrender.”
“I understand.” Gideon’s voice was girlish, soft, breathy. He felt his still-growing breasts jiggle in the leather harness Mistress Simone had strapped him into.
He’d been under Simone’s control for an untold amount of time, locked in her comfortable but very secure dungeon, kept on an exact schedule: Injections of estradiol and progesterone in the morning, exercises in Mistress Simone’s special gym in the afternoon, and “playtime” in the evening. The injections had started as a monthly thing, then every two weeks or so, then daily. Soon he’d started growing breasts, his already-small cock shriveling to nothing, and his balls had practically drawn up into his body.
If only I’d never signed up for the stupid website, Gideon thought. I was only curious! I thought I was going to be the dominant, not the submissive...
How long had it been? Six months? A year? He remembered it had been late, he’d been horny, and he pulled up a website advertising “kinky ladies who will give you what you need.”
When he met Mistress Simone, he’d expected the usual spanking and dirty talk. But she had a different kind of ‘play’ in mind. She wanted to see how far she could push him into femininity.
“Ah, Gideon. Look at what a girl you’re becoming! Isn’t it wonderful? Is it what you wanted, back when you thought you were calling the shots?”
Gideon blushed. “No!” He cried, a bit of his old masculine ego coming to the fore. “I’m...I’m a man.”
Mistress Simone laughed. “No man would allow himself to be reduced in this way. Here, I want you to check out the view.”
With that, she moved a full-length mirror in front of him. Gideon blushed.
Gone was his old self. In its place was a pretty, well-built girl with black hair, big green eyes fringed with thick lashes, and a mouth wide open in a pout. His body was petite but curvaceous, with pert, heavy breasts, slim, powerful thighs and calves, and a slight swell of a tummy. A few subtle things marked him as male—his muscular shoulders, his flat buttocks, the soft line of his cock under its cute black thong— but they seemed wrong, somehow. Imperfections in an otherwise beautiful, feminine body.
“I’m a girl...” Gideon whispered. He felt panic rising.
“Yes, you are. A girl who’s all mine. And now it’s time for you to be spanked for being so rude to your Mistress.”
Gideon’s eyes widened in shock as Mistress Simone went over to her worktable and picked up the cat o’ nine tails again. “Unless, of course, you wish to apologize...”
“I’m sorry!” he said, suddenly falling to his knees. “Please, Mistress, forgive me!”
“Then there’ll be no spanking,” Simone purred, coming close to him. “Assuming, of course, you’re ready to take the next step.”
Gideon looked up at her pleadingly. “I am, Mistress.”
“Very well. Get on your hands and knees, right here.”
Gideon obeyed, lowering his reddening cheeks to the cool marble floor. He felt his nipples hardening against the floor’s surface and his legs spreading apart slightly.
Oh God, I look just like a woman getting ready to take a man, Gideon thought.
He heard the soft click of Mistress Simone’s heels coming to stand behind him. “This won’t hurt, my dear,” she said. “As long as you submit.”
Gideon nodded, bit his lipstick-painted lips, and waited.