Monday, January 3, 2011

A Boy's Transformation - XXXV

"Sir Lancelot is visiting again, Brandy. Remember to be polite... just as I have trained you."

Brandy can look. But on this evening not touch. Not yet. Yes, once again he is placed in his playpen, wrists secured, high heels connected, anus stuffed, electrified railing set to offer a debilitating jolt should he attempt escape. Kneeling, he looks on with envy and frustration as his idol exits the bathroom. She lets her robe slip away to fully display her puissant feminine charms. He would so much like to suckle the breasts, to have those powerful thighs clench his head as he laboriously and endlessly services her...

Sister Evelyn spent inordinate time before dinner assuring his/her prettiness. Finished, Brandy pridefully gazed into a mirror, very much aware of his/her youthful allure... very much satisfied... his psyche so thoroughly feminine.

As Miss Lu applies her own make up, only moderate prinking before beginning the many hours of unbridled sex, there comes a brawny knock on the bedroom door.

"Sir Lancelot, babe," the manly voice announces once again.

Covering deemed an annoyance for what Brandy knows to be a lustful tryst, there comes in reply the unabashed command to enter despite Miss Lu’s nudity.

"Come in by all means. I’m eager and will want it real deep tonight, Lance. Tongue work from a pretty sissy boy is good, but an occasional firm cock offers friction where even my little oral servant can’t please," the frolicking words offered in an inviting sultry voice.

"At your service, my lady," soft laughter resonating as Miss Lu’s bull stud steps within.

"And how are you to greet my gentleman friend, Brandy?"

Kneeling upright, well placed on display, shyness returns, exhibiting his/her transformed charms to a man... a real man. It appalls.

"Do I need to use the remote?" Miss Lu forewarns.

Brandy bows her head. The greeting, ingrained for many days, finally comes.

"Good evening, sir. May I suck your penis for you?"

The humble words bring forth raucous laughter.

"So, a little trollop," Lance proclaims, his hand moving to his zipper.

"I’ve had her practicing. You know that boys made to think like girls offer the best fellatio, fully aware of where the tongue best pleases."

"Never pass up the opportunity," a smiling Lance responds in stepping to the playpen railing.

Sir Lancelot rummages within his zipper. The hand withdraws, the enormous brown ‘lance’ of Miss Lu’s vaunted knight already beginning to firm.

"Crawl a little closer, pretty baby girl. I’m long but not that long," a large pair of hands extending to grasp Brandy’s well coiffed head.

A reluctant Brandy obeys, shuffling his/her knees as the engorging organ is pressed through the wooden bars of the playpen. There is disgust... there is envy... to understand that this wholly intact male will be bedding she who Brandy so much adores brings despondence. Why is it not she to offer the desired deep penetration. If only Miss Lu had not altered... not diapered... not forced the heaping spoonfuls of that which slowly transforms...

By rote Brandy accepts the offering. Warm, relative softness rapidly metamorphosing to rigid hardness... somewhat mindful of that which Brandy at one time stroked in ogling his magazines... Brandy’s tongue extends to teasingly flutter just below the Prince Albert ring. Yes, the underside of the tip. Miss Lu never has to explain where to impart the most joy. Brandy knows. That segment of each lesson was brief...

Miss Lu arises from the dressing table to watch. There is pride, there is a subtle but devilish level of enjoyment observing the results of many months of tutelage... of supreme governance. Forcing change... physical... mental... emotional... on the otherwise recalcitrant male. She senses the warmth of revenge... ‘Girls in Distress’... triumph over such nastiness.

She begins to undress her beau as Brandy presses forth her face, lips engulfing, Lance grunting with the surge of pleasure as the tip of his manhood is thrust to the back of the throat... the warmth... the slippery smoothness... the depraved joy of being served by a subjugated male...

"Naked, baby. All the way," a playful Miss Lu tossing aside a shirt.

The sizable Prince Albert ring greets the very back of the throat to prompt slight choking, ironically increasing Lance’s delight, a well practiced Brandy quickly bringing his/her reaction under control.

"Don’t bring him to climax, Brandy. You’ll share later in his seed. On that, I have first bidding."

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