Chapter 3: Rising Action
If only he had seen her acknowledged her before he wouldn't be going through this, wouldn't be becoming a pathetic sissy, wouldn't be soon addicted to sucking cock and being the perfect maid for her. He would have been her fiance.
He would have been her husband. He would have been the man she loved. But now, he was her little slut, her pathetic little plaything. And she loved every fucking minute of it.
She pulled the dildo out of his mouth, leaving him gasping for breath. He could feel the tears streaming down his face, his breath coming in short gasps through his nose.
She reached into her bag and pulled out a small, black vibrator. She flicked it on, the buzzing sound filling the room. Chris's eyes widened in anticipation, his breath hitching in his throat.
He'd never been with a woman like this, never been used like this. It was humiliating, degrading even, but there was no denying the heat that was building between his legs. He could feel his cock straining against the chastity belt, the cold metal pressing against him, a constant reminder of his submission.
Sarah smirked, her eyes locked onto his. "You like that, don't you, you little slut?" she said, her voice laced with amusement. "You like being used, being fucked like a little whore."
Chris couldn't deny it. He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Yes," he whispered, his voice barely audible. She grabbed the camera and then clicked a leash on his collar turned and left him locked on his knees.
She walked down the hallway and into her bedroom. She opened her closet and pulled out a small, black box. She opened it and pulled out a pair of black leather gloves. She put them on, the leather creaking as she pulled them on. She walked back into the living room, the heels of her boots clicking on the hardwood floor. She stood in front of Chris, her eyes locked onto his. She reached down and grabbed his hair, pulling his head back, exposing his throat. He could feel her breath hot on his skin, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw.
It was then she let him read the contract that would change his life or "her" life as he read his new name "Valyrie" and the terms of the contract. He was to be her maid, her lover, her pet. He was to be her little slut. He would be locked in this chastity belt for a indeterminate amount of time. He would be forced to wear a dress and heels. He would be forced to be her maid. He would be forced to be her lover. He would be forced to be her pet. He would be forced to be her little slut. He would be forced to be her little slut. He would be forced to be her little slut. He would be forced to be her little slut. He would be forced to be her little slut. He would be forced to be her little slut.
The words echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of his new reality. He looked up at Sarah, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and excitement. He knew he should protest, should refuse, but the thought of being her pet, her little slut, sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine. He could feel his cock throbbing against the chastity belt, the cold metal pressing against him, a constant reminder of his submission. "You like that, don't you, Valyrie?"
Then she played her trump card showing the video some how his ID with his address and real name was on the bed as he sucked what looked like a man's cock and was covered in cum.
He was shocked and horrified. He was trapped. He was hers now. She had him by the balls. She had him by the cock. She had him by the heart. She had him by the mind. She had him by the soul. He was hers. He was her little slut. He was her little plaything. He was her little pet. He was her little maid. He was her little cocksucker. He was her little cumdump. He was stuck.
He could see the triumph in her eyes as she watched him squirm, watched him realize the extent of his predicament. He was a pawn in her game, a toy for her amusement.
She dropped the contract on the floor, the sound of it hitting the hardwood echoing through the room. She stepped closer to him, her heels clicking on the floor, her eyes never leaving his. She reached out, her gloved hand tracing the line of his jaw, the leather soft and smooth against his skin.
"You're mine now, Valyrie," she whispered, her voice laced with desire. It was then that the pain erupted in his chest. His breast grew to fill the chastity bra. The hormones painfully giving him C-cup breasts. She began laughing as she saw the experimental hormones take effect.
His chest was swelling, his nipples hardening, and his breasts growing larger. He winced in pain as the hormones took effect, his body convulsing as the pain became unbearable. She watched, her eyes gleaming with excitement and malice, as his body began to change. His vocal chords changing and his hips widening his physical strength diminishing as his testosterone was painfully being rewritten into estrogen. She could see the transformation happening, could see the man disappearing and the woman taking his place. She loved every fucking minute of it.
"Look at you," she sneered, her voice laced with amusement and disgust. She whispered in his ear "don't worry you will still have your male parts and they would have been useful if you didn't lock them away in that pretty chastity device.
But now you will have to learn to love your new body and your new identity. You will be my little slut, my little whore, my little cocksucker. You will be my pet, my maid, my lover. You will be my Valyrie."
She walked to the kitchen and came back with a bowl of water and a washcloth. She knelt down in front of him and began to wash his face, his neck, his chest. She took her time, her gloved hands gentle yet firm as she cleaned him. She could feel his body trembling beneath her touch, could see the fear and excitement in his eyes. She smiled, her heart racing with anticipation.