A Boy's Transformation - XXIX

Brandy is disappointed in being summarily placed in his playpen early. Normally after dinner he/she is permitted to crawl about sans shoes. Anal probe removed, no string harness needed to hold it in place, he revels in being not only completely nude, but freed of various controlling and constricting adornments.

Miss Lu also is given to prop him before a mirror. There he/she indulges in self adulation, sister Evelyn having worked for much time to prettify for dinner... make up, jewelry, no pigtails but hair styled more rakishly.

So it is with a curious degree of remorse that Brandy finds herself placed in the playpen, wrists bound to preclude thoughts of escape while Miss Lu showers without him. When she steps from the bathroom, only a towel about the waist, Brandy finds herself salivating, so much wanting to suckle the massive breasts, the likes of which he/she shall always want but never have.

"May I lick you, Miss Lu?"

The question, the docile and humble nature of the offer, brings comfort and a smile. Such a difference in attitude...

"No Brandy. Your Miss Lu has a visitor this evening. But in time I will have you work that tongue."

Miss Lu sits before her dressing table, leaving herself tantalizingly exposed as she applies modest make up and prinks. Brandy watches, gazing in adoration... and wonderment... of she who had the power to emasculate... and did so with such glee.

Expecting Miss Lu to dress, curious to view her presentment wearing other than her starched white uniform, Brandy is surprised when there comes a knock on the bedroom door and Miss Lu inquires.

"Who is it?"

"Sir Lancelot, babe."

A male voice!

"Come in my admiring servant. Guinevere awaits... you and your mighty sword."

Brandy is stunned when the door opens, Miss Lu remaining unclothed, a disheveled towel serving as her only covering. It is apparent that there will be limited attire required for her visitor!

Into the room steps a large man of color, both tall and broad. He glances at Brandy, scrambling to cower in a corner of the playpen, for the first time since his emasculation began, showing herself/himself to a man!

"Another one, Lu. How many does this make it?" a large brown hand pointing at a timid Brandy, naked, curled up and no place to hide.

"Think she’s number ten, Lance."

"And just as shy as the rest."

Brandy finds the term ‘shy’ to understate his sense of terror. So many weeks of acclimating to forced nakedness before Miss Lu... then sister Joan... then mother... then sister Evelyn. And now to be placed on display before a man! And so effeminately made up!

"It’s the hormones... and the missing balls. But it’s fun to observe is it not? Some obstreperous boy being so nicely tamed. You never complain, Lance."

Miss Lu stands. She has limited her own make up, no where near the gaudiness which sister Evelyn has bestowed on Brandy. And Brandy is incredulous when her towel drops to reveal all to ‘Sir Lancelot’.

"Beauty and strength... I love it," her companion’s look one of admiration and lust.

The duo embrace... the greeting of two lovers. And Brandy notes the powerful hug, Miss Lu’s arms squeezing with impressive potency. There is not a hint of submission to the male gender, despite the enormity of the man’s size and persona.

"Come here sweet cheeks. I want a better look at you," Sir Lancelot turning and wriggling his finger.

Brandy hesitates. A smiling Miss Lu takes note and admonishes.

"Obey the man, Brandy. Crawl over here immediately... otherwise you’ll get a fanny spanking right now. Makes me sorry I don’t have you plugged with the electrical probe."

Countering Brandy’s fear and bashfulness is the enticing full view of Miss Lu, not only displaying all her feminine charms, but looking most handsome with the modicum of make up applied. With the hug of her lover, her nipples have firmed to evidence a degree of sexual joy, and the firm breasts seem to rise in both pride and thoughts of lust.

Brandy reluctantly crawls upright on his knees. In no longer assuming a protective decupitus position, more of Evelyn’s efforts, an afternoon of girly decorations, come to be seen. Lance laughs, noting the pink ribbons about the breasts, crimson ‘fuck me’ lipstick, eye shadow, mascara.

"Made up to look like a little doll," he notes with a snicker.

Brandy reaches the near railing of the playpen where the impressive Lance stands, observing every roll of the plumped effeminate flesh. A hand reaches and grasps an earlobe.

"Closer little girl," the tone mocking. "Or should I say little boy," the eyes lowering to the tiny penis... the sight of the teeth bracelet and the pink ribbon about the empty scrotal sac broadening his smile.
The left hand lowers, fingers entwining in the long locks. Brandy is disheartened to have sister Evelyn’s styling mussed. Then the fingers of the right hand smooth along the rouge covered cheeks.

"You’ve done his tongue?"

"Couple of weeks ago," Miss Lu divulges, stepping behind her beau to offer another hug.

As Lance continues to inspect, Miss Lu’s hands wrap around his chest to caress. Then they lower and Brandy is shocked to see the fingers brazenly move to lower his zipper.

"It’s nimble and strong. And it’s getting longer and longer each day," Miss Lu offers in licking her own lips in a most sultry fashion.

The fingers demonstrate familiarity. With zipper down, the digits slip within, momentarily fumble about then withdraw, the immense ‘sword’ of Sir Lancelot tenderly drawn into the room light. It is long, golden brown and a sizable Prince Albert ring glistens.

"So little girl, an accomplished tongue, you’ve kept my lady happy?" Lance inquires with a sardonic snort.

Brandy has never before seen such an appendage. The man’s feet slide forth. The hips thrust and the organ is pressed through the vertical wooden bars of the playpen.

"Can you get Lance nice and hard for me Brandy? Every girl needs good stiff penetration from time to time. Just pretend it’s the dildo you so much enjoy lubricating when I fanny fuck your tight rectum."