'Submitting to Miss Jade', Segment Three

Michael Devereau

Do I miss the Institute?

Not for a moment. For I am with Miss Justine. Such mastery... yet such kindness. And more... she is so much aware of me... my sick needs... parading me down her driveway naked and leashed by my penis!

It brought fright... it brought humiliation... it brought demented arousal.

And now I stand before her without bonds... of course without clothing... and chagrined that she so well knows me.

Yes I need to go. She simply waits until I move to the sink as instructed, open the cabinet beneath and extract a sizable shallow pan. She points... at her feet. I place down the pan and know to lie supine. When I lift my legs, knees to my breasts to assume the decubitus position, a booted foot slips the pan beneath my buttocks where the helmet of my sutured penis shaft now resides.

Hands and arms freed, I encircle my upturned thighs, holding, a task formerly performed by a tending nurse at the Institute... now to be mine.

“This is how and where you will go... under a woman’s command as always. I think you’ll better respond to Jade. After all, the young nurses reported how much you enjoyed ceding to them... and my daughter is about the right age.”

As much as the words bring duress, there comes no command to relieve myself. A smiling Miss Justine just seems to enjoy peering. Apparently my well sodomized anus has come to bring attraction. And indeed, with her penetrating double dildo abrading my relocated penis, I as well have developed a faux erogenous zone there.

I cannot help thinking how much I need for her to take me... right here... right now.  

Finally comes a nod.

“Fill your pan for me.”

I open, I press, a stream pings into the pan. With it comes the warmth of my bladder contents pleasantly wetting the sensitive pink of my portal. Her smile glows. Somehow she senses my decadent thrill.

At the Institute, the lowly deed was completed by the tender hands and fingers of a nurse, wiping me dry like a toddler. As my flow diminishes, there come words of ‘good girl’. For some reason I know not to move, no further directive coming. It seems in this lowly and humble position I will receive more instruction.

“There’s no enema room here, Michael. I know you’ll miss it... such beseeching pleas as your bowels were made to fill. But I’ll not engage in the foul hygienics... nor will I have daughter Jade do so. Instead, your morning will begin by assuring your cleanliness... no more infantile sponge baths. Your shower will include an internal douching of your boy pussy. Nothing as deep and tormenting as at the Institute. Just make sure you’re ready for anal penetration... at all times. I tend to be whimsical in taking my girly boys. So be lubricated here as well,” the toe of her booted foot pressing to my opening. “At all times. That will mean being careful where you sit,” apparently referencing the abundance of vegetable oil leaking from my rectum after being prepared for anal penetration at the Institute.  

Miss Justine shifts. Her boot, toe now wet with remnants of my excretions, goes to my mouth. I know to lick it clean. 

“When you move about the house, I want you prancing... on your toes... as little girlish and effeminately as possible. I’ll want you in full make up, Michael. I know you’ve been trained by your Master’s housekeeper. So be pretty... be presentable. You can apply rouge over your missing eyebrows. Make it thick and ostentatiously red. Nails the same color.”

Miss Justine steps away to the sink. She unrolls a paper towel and returns, tossing it to my chest.

“I hear no complaints... no objections. And your nipples are crinkled. Demeaning deeds and thoughts excite you, Michael. Was it urinating so humbly for me... or envisioning being made up to appear like a girl?”

What can I say? My sensitized glands seem to speak for me. 

In silence, I grab the paper towel, right hand reaching to wipe myself dry between my cheeks.

“I make my living as a physical therapist. It’s how I met husband Jim. In providing expert massage, I had many times concluded a session with prostate stimulation and a nice controlling hand job... Jim being just one of dozens of recipients... along with most of the team. Thus the intimacy progressed to marriage... open marriage. He knows what I like to do to sycophantic men... particularly making wimpy Caucasian males beg for my attention. So you being here and serving... it’s just an extension of who I am. And when I put you in a blond wig, you’ll become the trashy whore that macho black guys enjoy putting under the penis. And you when so submit... you will fellate, bend and spread for him. And deep within so much enjoy it.”

Seeing that I am dried she gestures to the filled pan.

“To the utility room.”

I carefully twist on the floor, lower my legs, then kneel to take the odorous pan, following her pointing finger to a utility room leading to the back door. There I empty the pan into a large industrial wash sink and rinse. 

“There will be clothes pins for disobedience... nipples and testicles,” Miss Justine informs as I return the pan to the cabinet. “For more serious transgressions there will be bondage... but not as you have come to enjoy it. You’ll be placed in a stress position... for an indeterminable period. Daughter Jade has not before heard a man beg. Though you’re more apt to squeal at this point in your transformation.”

Miss Justine pauses, signaling for me to approach. In so doing her arms extend, hands turning upright to palm my breasts. Her touch is exquisite... gentle... knowing... controlling. Her thumbs smooth about then tenderly squeeze.

“More plumping, Michael? Are these to become absurdly prominent?”

Miss Justine is aware... my file telling... that I have willingly taken the medication which promotes gynecomastia. In thought, I realize it has never been forced on me. I close my eyes, blushing bashfully. Growing the glands has been my own form of inducing degradation, beginning years ago in attempting to please my wife with my plunging self esteem, wallowing in the cuckoldry. I thought it would bring us closer.

“The Institute gave me a prescription, Michael... along with one for your estrogen. Should I have them filled?”

I open to glance at her face, noting the sincerity. It is my choice... to continue the plunge. I know not what to say. I feel so comfortable in her hands. I find myself somewhat twisting my torso, better sensing her fingers, soaking up more of her divine touch.

“I’ll stop by the pharmacy,” answering for me. “Jade will offer the pills to you daily and supervise. I’ll want to know whether you’re continuing your descent into such abject depravity.”

Regretfully, her hands retract.    

“Come, you’ll of course want to know where the double dildos are kept.”