Date: Wed, 29 Mar 2006 12:33:12 -0800 (PST) From: Phil Hughes Subject: The Professor (Chapter 3) (I have enjoyed all of the comments and encouragement from readers. Keep it up and thanks to all of you, Phil) The weather had again turned hot. I spent Monday constructing and installing a wooden gate. It was an easy job, one that I normally would have enjoyed shirtless and in shorts soaking up the sun's ray, but I dared not show my newly hairless body. The sweat ran unhindered down my chest and legs. I was constantly aware of my feminine state. On Tuesday evening I went to my gym for my twice weekly workout, but it was far from usual. I could feel the eyes of every man in the gym on me. Even though I was fully covered I imagined that they knew what had happened to me. I was becoming extremely paranoid, a mental disaster. Sunday's resolve to embrace my predicament and what I knew deeply to be a real part of me melted in the heat of the guilt that gnawed at me. Twenty year old memories came creeping back from their deep dark places, memories of an extremely inebriated sixteen year old boy waking in a lawn chair, the steady slap of waves against the dock hypnotizing me and a man, my employer standing over me; telling me that everything was fine, to just go back to sleep and I did. Despite the blurred vision of my jeans at my knees I passed back into limbo. I knew his hand was moving up and down my engorged cock and other memories of lying face down on that same dock, the smell of rotting fish in my nose, naked from the waist down, a weight pressing me deeper into the wooden planks then nothingness until I was vomiting over the side of the dock either from alcohol or shame. Part of me had been waiting all my life for it to happen again and now that it had occurred it threatened to consume me. I pulled the small rectangle package from the mail box on Wednesday morning. Inside the neatly addressed manila envelope I found an unmarked video tape. I felt sweat beads popping up all over my body as I nervously inserted it into the player. The dark screen awoke to an unfamiliar scene. The lens panned over a bedroom, darkly decorated with a large mahogany bed the center of attention. Four massive posts rose towards the sky offset by blood red sheets with a satiny sheen. The clear eye of the camera panned the bed from the foot to the head, a blond woman lay there on her belly, face turned away from the camera. Her thick hair was cut in a short bob. Her back rose and fell as if in a deep sleep. She was clad only in a red bra and matching g-string that disappeared between the cleavage of her taut round bottom. Two young men stepped into view, the first was a dark well built Hispanic who looked to be in his mid-twenties his thick penis jutting from a black mass of wiry curls led him towards the bed. The second man was no older, but looked taller and leaner. He too was led in by his long thin cock that waved from side to side with each step he took. He knelt by the sleeping woman opposite of his darker companion. There was no wasted time as four hands began to move about her unprotected form. Fingers trailed lightly over her smooth, well formed legs, up her back and over her full round buns massaging and kneading her pliant flesh. I was spellbound as she began to move under their touch almost immediately, her hips rotating ever so slightly as long fingers dipped out of sight between her slightly parted thighs pressing her sex into the soft sheets beneath her. The Hispanic slid up the bed, kneeling by her shoulders his hands traveled beneath her chest, his short thick cock resting on her blonde hair. His counterpart concentrated on the hidden region between her thighs as they spread inches more to allow him access. A glance passed between the smiling young men and in unison they eased her onto her back. To my shock a full erection protruded out of the top of the too small swath of sheer red material. I was staring at my own painted face; red lips parted slightly, dark lashes resting gently on my cheek, framed by the neat blonde wig. The Hispanic's hands slid from my shoulders to the front clasp of the bra and opened it easily to reveal my smooth hairless chest, erect nipples angry red were squeezed between his thumbs and fingers. He teased them lightly with his nails bringing a moan from my open mouth. His partner took the sides of the thin g-string and easily slid the material off my legs, leaving it hanging precariously on one ankle. With little effort he pushed apart my knees exposing my drawn up balls and opening my anus to his two middle fingers that sunk easily to his palm into my stretched opening. The head of my cock was covered with pre-cum catching the light as the camera zoomed in. I made no attempt to avoid his long fingers; instead, my knees parted further offering him easier access. The lens moved from the busy work between my spread thighs traveling up my body every detail in perfect focus. The Hispanic's penis stretched my lips out of proportion inverting them with each slow push then pulling their fullness outward with each withdraw, my cheeks hollowing slightly, as the void occurred. I heard the moan that escaped from around his cock as I was mounted below, the torso of the Caucasian young man coming into the picture, the camera trailing down to capture the squeeze of his ass cheeks with each long thrust. There was no resistance and no form of restraint. It was not at all as I had remembered. I sat there staring at the white noise doubting all that I believed had happened. I could no longer trust my own memory; my lust had supplanted what I thought that I knew and the truth was there, in living color. Shaking my head I rose from the chair and walked to the computer that I had ignored for several days. Forefront in my mind was the possibility that I was too late to stop the tapes from being mailed to my family. I logged into my mail and found three mails waiting for my reply. As I had guessed, the first two contained pictures, not stills from the movie, but similar, in that no restraint was being used to influence my cooperation with the men. I scanned over the note that accompanied the first set of stills. It was exactly what I needed to push past my fears. It was a detailed list of demands and expectations from the professor. Quickly, I skipped to the third note and sent a brief reply, thankful that he had given me until this evening as a grace period in which to contact him. My note read simply: cooperating fully with your commands; yours, Phil. I sent the initial list of demands to the printer, gathered it and moved quietly to my room reading each line carefully. The note: 1) Clear all weekend schedules immediately. 2) Answer all correspondence upon receipt. 3) Maintain your hairless condition. This site contains suggests lotions and tips. (site name here). 4) Trim eyebrows and dye them blond. Dye hair blonde. 5) Schedule tanning bed appointments, minimum three per week. 6) Destroy existing under clothing and purchase matching bra/panty sets from Victoria's Secret. (panties should be sheer g-strings: bras should be padded A cups) Suggested colors include, white, black, baby blue, pink and red) A minimum of six sets required. 7) Purchase and practice application of lip gloss and mascara. Pinks preferred for lip shades. 8) Maintain and paint toenails, pink or red. 9) You will enter through basement entrance upon receiving arrival times from this day forward. 10) Refrain from masturbating unless permission is given. These conditions are non-negotiable. I was hard by the time I finished reading the list. I went to the suggested site and ordered a cream that promised smooth skin with daily application then moved to my underwear drawer to empty it. By the end of the day I had purchased two shades of lip gloss and three colors of polish. The mascara application proved to be the hardest task. I had to go out and buy a make-up mirror that magnified my face. I was not a pretty girl, but had always been considered a handsome man. The feminization had never been part of any fantasy I had entertained, but now it thrilled me. It was a complete submission to his whims. I was extremely embarrassed as I shopped at the local Victoria's Secret, pretending the purchases were for my girlfriend did little to ease my sense of shame. The fact that I didn't know sizes hadn't helped, as I tried to explain to the sales woman that she was exactly my size. When I saw her whispering to another sales agent I nearly turned and left empty handed. I needed to complete the tasks offered by the professor, not because of any lingering fear of exposure, but because I desired it. I needed to submit and prayed that he would maintain his dominance. I needed to stay at a disadvantage mentally and vowed to follow his commands meekly. "Get undressed," the voice I recognized as belonging to the professor came from behind the bright light that shown directly into my eyes blinding me to anything beyond. I was scared, my knees threatening to give out as I bent to unlace my tennis shoes. It had been two full weeks since I had been in his presence, two weeks of anticipation and two weeks of trying to perfect my obedience of his commands. My body was smooth; my lashes appeared to be longer, heavy with mascara. I chose pink lip gloss that matched my toenails, offset by the matching sheer white g-string and bra. My bare feet hit the cold concrete floor sending a shiver up my spine, as I pushed my jeans over my hips standing on one foot then the other to remove them. For the first time I noticed the noise that I guessed was a camera whirring from within the light. "Nice," he commented as I reached to lift the sweatshirt over my head. My penis was soft form pure fear and held tightly in place by the taut material. I reached for the clasp on the bra, but he stopped me, instructing me to turn slowly. On the table to my left set the blond wig. I pulled it into place and adjusted it using the mirror behind the table. Immediately I was transformed into the woman I had watched so often over the past two weeks, as she eagerly submitted to her lovers. It was no longer me looking back into wide brown eyes. I ran the tip of my tongue over my lips and reached for the white thigh high stockings turning back towards the professor, as I rolled them, like I recalled my mother doing so often and slid them on, standing again to adjust them. Taking the final piece of clothing from the table, a satin wrap around dress, I slipped into it and fastened the three tiny pearl buttons that ran up the side. It fell in length to just above the stocking and opened at the neck low enough to glimpse the bra. My eyes opened slowly to the dream. I looked about my surroundings recognizing the mahogany bed from the video. My legs and arms stretched to the four mighty posts, as the light of the early morning sun crept over the dark room. I lifted my head and scanned my tired body. I needed to pee. I was wearing a silky pink nightgown and a cock ring. My mind began to put all the pieces of the night before together. I stepped into the basement as instructed and was greeted coldly by the command to strip. In seconds I stood in g-string and matching white bra on the cold concrete floor. I had been warned about drinking prior to my visit, but I had smoked a joint that calmed my nerves considerably. The professor wasted no time. He wrapped a collar around my neck and fastened it snugly in place then tugged sharply on the lead insuring that it was secured. I saw him reach into a bag and felt the tug of the blond wig being fitted over my newly dyed hair. The blindfold went into place followed by the leather cuffs, trapping my hands in front of my waist with a four inch link of chain. I felt him secure the ankle cuffs, but left them unchained then he pulled sharply downward on the lead forcing me to my knees. Before I could think I felt his cock rubbing against my face. I could smell the sweat emanating from his crotch, as he bragged of remaining unwashed just for me. The taste was salty and sour on my tongue as I cleaned him as ordered, feeling life flow into the warming piece of meat. I was still amazed by the velvety feel of his head as it rubbed over my tongue; that at least was as I had remembered. He was a patient man in some ways, not allowing himself to cum. He enjoyed testing the limits of my gag reflex holding his penis entirely inside my mouth, teasing the opening to my throat. He instructed me on what he wanted, coaxing me in the use of my tongue and lips between jamming himself fully into my mouth. It was my first lesson in a long night. The professor changed directions quickly. When he had enough of my mouth he pulled me roughly to my feet and led me to the wooden staircase leading to the main house. I stumbled along behind him in total blackness stubbing a toe, in the process. I was pulled through the house by the lead that he seemed to enjoy tugging and finally ordered to step up onto some sort of platform. I could feel the instability of the table or whatever it was as I cautiously stepped up. I heard him behind me speaking to someone and realized we were not alone. "What do you think," he asked, not waiting for an answer before ordering me to turn slowly. I was on display. A rough hand from below me ran over my smooth thigh. I could not move away. The hand pinched my ass as I turned then slapped my cheek playfully. I was commanded to dance. A cryptic sonata filled the room from distant speakers. I had no rhythm and felt awkward as I attempted to move to the music. When I spoke, saying I couldn't dance, I was greeted with a sharp slap to the back of my thigh and told to keep quiet and obey. I feared that I would fall off of the raised dais at any moment, as I felt my way slowly turning, swaying my hips in my best attempt at a dance. It was not long before I was situated between the two hungry men on a couch. Their hands moved freely over my body. Their mouths forced mine open, their rough beards scraping my skin as they forced me to kiss them each in turn. I could feel them heating up as their movements took on more urgency. The stranger took delight in telling me what a bitch I was, his demeanor was rough and demanding. When I did not return his kiss he smacked my exposed thigh causing me to jump. I learned quickly that he would not relent, that no was not an option. There were subtle differences in their cocks. I knew who was in my mouth despite the similarity in size and girth. My head hung over the foot of a bed leaving me upside down. Both men were eager. The show I had been told to put on seemed to fire them up even more. I had been very grateful for the blindfold as I sat between them with one leg held in each man's lap. The g-string and bra were gone. My left hand was held fast secured to something above my head while I masturbated for them, alternating my strokes between slow and fast, as they commanded. The whir of the camera assured me that I would be held accountable. The constant toying of my anus and intermittent slaps on my spread thighs kept me from reaching orgasm despite the fact that it had been almost two weeks since I had last felt relief and despite the fact that it turned me on tremendously that they were watching this act. I had long forgotten the wig and make-up, my balls ached, but now I was stretched on my back and held fast at the four corners of a bed, a soft set of balls draped over my nose, I swallowed. It was the unidentified man flooding my mouth with a thick creamy load. He seemed to gain a sadistic joy from my displeasure when he forced his acrid asshole over my mouth and instructed me to use my tongue, beating me with some sort of paddle on my belly and thighs until I complied. Now he commanded that I swallow. The head of his penis was at the entrance of my throat and the thick goop lingered there slowly draining into my throat and stomach. The professor's load was sweeter. I knew the softness of his large ovoid head and sucked it softly as it shrunk in my mouth like magic. I found myself fearing one man and desiring the other, but in either case I was falling more and more naturally into the submissive behavior. A noise from somewhere in the house caught my attention. I turned my head towards a door to my left straining to hear someone coming my way. The sound faded leaving me alone with my stiff member and need of relief. I scanned the room noticing for the first time a large screen mounted to the wall below the foot of the bed. Without warning it suddenly came to life. On the screen I saw myself hobbled by a two foot chain between my ankles making my way across a room, my steps shortened by the restraint. I still wore the wig and the short pink gown, the fringe falling to the level of my rigid cock trapped in the cock ring. I remembered how I had to move towards the sound blindly afraid of falling in my blinded condition. Waiting in a wing back chair was the stranger. His appearance was not what I had expected looking more like a librarian than the sadistic man I recalled. The camera zoomed in for a close shot as I made it to his location focusing on his hands as he pried my full cheeks apart and probed my anus roughly, causing me to raise up onto my toes to escape his sudden intrusion. A loud smack sounded over the speakers and another, until I settled down onto his extended fingers. He steadily fucked my nether hole until his fingers were buried to his palm. I watched with quiet fascination as the small man guided me down by the hips until I was poised over his short torpedo shaped dick and remembered how I had lost my balance and fell heavily onto his lap, his cock instantly buried to its full depth. The microphone picked up my shocked moan. With my morning erection throbbing I watched myself lift and lower myself repeatedly to his lap. Each movement became easier as he gripped my hips firmly and directed my angle. I wanted so strongly to reach my swollen member, as my mood on screen changed to one of a starved slave begging for his master. I eagerly went to all fours, my blindfolded head turning to look behind me when he opted for a new position. I watched the large image of my ass wiggling like a lure, begging him to fill me again. I was his bitch, their bitch and I no longer cared to deny it. Even in the light of day, bound to a strange bed, I knew I would never be the same.