Consent Ch. 03-04

Author's Notes:

(1) This is fiction.

(2) Nonetheless, the pull of fantasies can be extreme. Never underestimate where it can take you.

(3) These are broken characters. In the real world, one would be dead, the other in jail.

(4) It is best to read chapters 1 and 2 to understand how Jack met Mistress Joan.

(5) My apologies to those that want to get their jollies quickly. This story has to evolve in a methodical way similar to the breakdown of Jack's will to resist fantasy.

(6) The shit is almost ready to hit the fan.

Despite the 40 storey height and modern look of Jack's twenty-five year old apartment building, it was aging badly. The elevator climbed with creaks and groans and there was a damp looking spot in one corner on the carpet. The enclosed space smelled vaguely like urine. He stared straight ahead at the elevator door, waiting and thinking, wondering what the hell he was going to do to survive this rough spot in his life. No money, and worse than that, a crushing loneliness. One can be rich and not notice loneliness, but when the money disappears, there is an overwhelming need for friends. He hadn't stopped thinking about Mistress Johanna, the look of her, the sound of her voice as it modulated to control him, the smell of her perfume amid suggestions of leather, the swell of her breasts above the leather bra or corset, the sway of her hips as she walked away, never looking back. She wasn't a friend, but a good substitute would be her acceptance and encouragement of his "baggage". Any port in a storm.

He had to get home and get dressed. It compelled him in his need, and his cheeks burned with that desire, just as they did when he was in the presence of Mistress Johanna. When the elevator door opened, he literally lurched out, ran to his apartment door and, upon entering, sprinted to his bureau and closet like an alcoholic after a drink.

She knew. Mistress Johanna read him like an open book. Had she hypnotized him? It felt like it. He was tired and drained, as if something had been extracted from him by force of will, and she had defeated his will to be independent or to resist.

He undressed quickly, peeling down to his bra and panties which were still wet from his arousal at the interview, and sat on the edge of the bed to calm himself and to prepare for womanhood. A shiver vibrated through his body just before he pulled the top drawer open to choose his attire. He was disheartened by his lack of choice. Given the money, he would have had all his drawers and all his hangers filled and hanging with bras, panties, stockings, girdles, wigs, and shoes. Dropping the prefilled water bags into his bra, he jiggled a bit to let them find their place, the weight and coolness of them giving him a chill. As the evening wore on he knew the water would warm up to his temperature and feel like a part of him. Now he put his garter belt around his waist and fastened it with the hook and eye closing behind his back. The six garters rattled slightly as they tickled his upper thighs, but they were soon secured to the tops of his light support black stockings. Since he had shaved his body, he had been stunned at how soft and smooth all of his female attire had become. As he stepped into his only pair of high heels, the phone rang.

Jack was so absorbed that he jumped before answering.

"Hello?" he said. It was, for some reason, a question.

"Are you in your bedroom?" the voice said.

It was her. "Mistress Johanna! I just got home. I, uh, yes, uh why?"

"What are you wearing?"

"What?"

"You heard me. What are you wearing?"

Jack looked down at his breasts and his feet tilted forward in the high heels. "Uh, I was just watching TV. Like I said, I just got in."

"Do you still have your bra and panties on?"

He hesitated and then answered, "Uh, look Johanna, I don't think this...I mean, I don't know what to say. This is kind of weird, don't you think?" He was starting to sweat and his cock pressed outward on his panties. Her voice was smooth like a molasses river, and he thought he might drown in it if he continued the conversation.

"What color is your bra?"

Oh my God. "Uh, black."

"What do you put in your bra to fill it out?"

"What? Water," he whispered, "bags of water."

"Put the bags in."

"They are in," he said, between quickened breaths.

"Touch your breasts."

He found himself doing as he was told and then he put his hand down quickly, hitting his right breast, causing it to bounce and slosh about.

"Mistress Johanna, please...I don't think...uh, this feels weird."

She ignored him and continued, "What else are you wearing sweetie?"

Jack felt as though he had just run up a hill. His breaths were short and shallow.

"I, oh Jesus, a matching black garter belt and stockings. I have a pair of high heeled pumps on. Are you sure you want to..."

She interrupted. "Do you own a pantie girdle?"

"Yes."

"Set your phone to speaker and put it down. Pull your girdle on. Make sure your hard cock is flat against your belly and pointing to your belly button."

Her voice was sultry and hypnotic. Still, he resisted weakly. "Ma'am? No. This is...Oh God..."

Despite his questioning her, he found he was following her every order. The black girdle, one size too small, just the way he liked it, snapped its way into place and he adjusted his cock as she had said. He waited, panting shallowly.

"Lie on your bed face down so you can feel your breasts pushing against you. Have you done it?"

"Yes Mistress Johanna..."

"Jaqueline, can I call you Jaqueline?"

"Yes Mistress..."

"Maybe I'll call you Jackie. Would you like to know what I'm wearing Jackie?"

"My God, yes..."

"I'm dressed in black, just like you, but I have a leather corset on and it's so, so very tight. It shapes me and hugs me. So, so tight, and my breasts are pushed up and outward. I'm touching them now; my nipples are so hard. Can you see me Jackie?"

"Yes," he whispered.

"And the garters at the bottom of the corset are attached to tight black stockings. They feel so good, so feminine. Now, I want you to put your hands on the bed in front of you and start to gently roll your pelvis forward and back so your cock moves inside the girdle. No touching with your hands! Are you doing that?"

Jack groaned.

"Good. You're going to come soon, just because I say you can. Do you feel like a woman Jackie?"

"Oh God, oh Jesus Mistress...I, Oh my God, I'm going to..." His eyes were shut and he was lost in her fantasy scene, a hair's breadth from orgasm.

"Stop!" she yelled suddenly.

"Mistress?" He stopped all movement.

"Get up and put some lipstick and mascara on. Quickly! Do it!"

Jack literally ran into the bathroom and applied sufficient strokes of mascara to make his eyelids heavy with the thickened and lengthened lashes. Applying bright red lipstick, he ran back and assumed his earlier position.

"I'm back Mistress Johanna," he said breathlessly.

"Good. Lie on the bed as before. Describe how you feel Jackie, while you're rocking your pelvis and stimulating your clitoris...yes, your clitoris Jackie. Describe yourself to me Jackie..."

"Mistress Johanna, I feel so good...oh my God it feels so good..."

"What feels good?"

"My breasts...I shaved all my hair off...my lipstick tastes so good and my lashes are so thick. The girdle, the pressure on my, on my...oh my God, Mistress..."

"On your what Jackie?"

"No, I can't, I can't..." He couldn't call his penis a clitoris. That was sick and disgusting, and...just wrong.

"The pressure is on your clitoris, isn't it Jackie. Say it!"

"Yes Mistress. It feels so good on my, on my clitoris. He groaned." Jack wished he could stop fantasizing, but the waves of it kept crashing over him, washing him ashore. Clitoris. He surrendered to it.

"Now listen carefully Jackie and repeat after me. If you say exactly what I tell you to say, I'll allow you to come. Is that clear?"

"Allow me? Yes, okay, oh yes Mistress!"

"Tell me that you're a woman Jackie. Tell me. Say it Jackie!"

Jack was panting and moaning softly. It had always been his secret rule to never cross that line, to never have an orgasm to that fantasy, only to the friction. The shame of dressing up as a woman was enough, the feel of the clothing, the tightness and the singing of satin and lace over nylon and spandex. But to actually say it out loud, that he was a woman? That fantasy was too far, so close but too far by necessity. Slippery slope, that one, and he hung on in desperation.

"Mistress Johanna, no, please, no, I can't, please..." But orgasm approached and he exclaimed in a high pitched squeal, "Mistress Johanna, my clitoris! Oh my God, I...I'm a woman! Oh no, I'm a woman, no, no, no..."

And his squeal became a scream as he soaked his girdle with stream after stream of his semen. This went on for quite some time before he finally relaxed his hips and sank completely into the bed, wet with sweat and ejaculate.

Mistress Johanna's voice was soothing like a hug now as she said, "That's a good girl. I knew you could do it. I'm so proud of you. You're so sweet and I really like you. I want you to sleep tight now. Keep your clothes on as they are. Be a woman tonight. By the way, I want to hire you. I want you to be my slave. I'll phone tomorrow to arrange the details."

Jack wasn't sure he heard her correctly. "What?" he said, "What did you say?"

But she had hung up and all he heard was the sound of the dial tone and his own residual heavy breathing. He turned the phone off in a start and sat on the edge of the bed in shock. What had she done to him? How had she done that? At that moment he had zero desire to be wearing the girdle and bra, and he stood up flaming with guilt and shame to remove them. Then he heard her voice in his head again and stopped.

He had to keep the clothes on tonight.

Sleep came to him, but it came in bursts of restless rolling about, sweating and thrashing around in a repetitive dream. And the dream really wasn't that wild; it was simple, and very easily interpreted. He was locked in a room. The room was dark and devoid of all life and the trappings of it. There was a door, a frightening door, only one, and he touched the handle causing it to open. Mistress Johanna smiled at him and beckoned him, but just as he was about to step through, the door closed and locked again. The same dream cycled over and over again, and he never got through the door. Just before he woke up, he began to perceive evil things inside his dark room and they were stalking him in the murky black silence. Running to open the door, he woke up in a sweat.

Pretty simple.

CHAPTER 4

Jack sat at the table eating his breakfast, already showered and shaved and dressed in a red flared skirt and white blouse. His eyes felt like piss holes in snow, but he had fixed them up the best he could with eyeliner, mascara and shadow. The bite mark in his toast was rimmed with red lipstick.

The phone rang and he looked at it dumbly, wondering what to do. On the third bird chirp, he picked it up.

"This is Jack," he said.

"You mean Jackie, don't you sweetie?" Mistress Johanna's voice this morning was different, less intoxicating, simply happy and bouncy like an Irish limerick.

"So," she continued, "I want you to start next week, or earlier if you want. I pay $500 per week for the first six months, and if it works out, it goes to $1,000 per week. If you prefer, there are alternatives to that, which we can discuss when you arrive. I don't know what your circumstances are, but if you need to break your lease and come to live with me, I will cover any break costs and all food and board here is free as I advertised. Do you have any questions?"

"Well, yeah, actually I do. What makes you think I'll take the job?"

He heard a stifled giggle at the other end of the line. "Really Jackie?"

Jack said, "Well, I don't know what I'd be doing. Just what is the work like, really like?"

"You know already, for God's sake! You've seen my site!" But he heard her sigh and continue, "Okay, I'll give you a job summary if you like. As you see from my website, I own a very well equipped multi-room dungeon, and I receive clients from all over the world. Depending upon their preferences, they stay in rooms or locked cells for extended periods. I presently have one male slave who I'm sure you've seen in various videos. He's bisexual but he is not appropriate for the roles that I have planned for future expansion of my role play scenarios. He's too male looking. That's where you come in. I'll be using you in videos for trannie and S&M treatment (caning, whipping and the like), as well as serving me orally while other clients look on. Also, you will help with the fulfillment of any client's fantasies, including fellatio, cunnilingus, or being the recipient of anal sex. Sometimes you'll actually be dominant in some trannie roles that clients may fantasize. You will be dressed as a woman all of the time, and in addition to the modeling duties, because you'll be a woman, you will have household chores such as cleaning, cooking, ironing, and dungeon upkeep. I intend to take your measurements as soon as possible and order corsets, girdles, high heels, wigs and all things feminine, so you can fall into your role more completely. I will call you my slave, but the reality is that you can leave any time you want of course."

Jack was holding the phone out in front of his dinner plate eyes. "I'll be a woman? All the time?" he said. He was thinking frantically, trying to find a reason to say no, but he was hanging by his fingernails over the abyss. He wanted this. "What about STDs? Am I protected?" he asked.

"THAT'S your question? After THAT description of your duties, THAT'S your question?" she asked sarcastically, "Of course you're protected. Well, most of the time. Some of my clients are regulars though, and they always present me with a medical certificate. For them you may have to swallow."

"Swallow? What do you...? Oh, no, no...Johanna, Mistress Johanna, I can't do that; I'm not gay."

"Jackie I know you're not gay. For God's sake, get over that! This is a job. Maybe I wasn't clear; you're going to be a model for videos, a prostitute and a servant. You do what I tell you, or what my client tells you, within certain limits. It's up to you whether you accept the concept of the job. Once you accept, the dirty details are not really negotiable. I personally think you'd be perfect, and I really want you. Is it the money? Because we can negotiate that."

Finally reality set in. He was seeking a job as a prostitute. He would be a prostitute for Mistress Johanna. She would be his pimp. Among other things he would be a whore. He would be paid for sex.

There was his pride. There was his masculinity. There was his fantasy. There was his potential reality. And he had no money for rent. He would be out on the street in two weeks, with no job, a drab reality of unfulfilled dreams.

The door was open. There were nameless frightening things in his dark room. Mistress Johanna beckoned. Exciting things, unknown things were there, right there. The sound of her, the look of her, the fragrances of perfume and leather, and the chemistry of something else, something irresistible. All he had to do was follow.

With a tense and soprano voice, he said, "Can you pay last month's rent and next, so I'm square with the landlord? It's $1,900 and change."

"Done." He thought he heard her breathe a sigh.

"Tomorrow then?" she said. Jack felt that same chill and shiver overtake him, the one by the balcony door, but this time he knew it was from another door that he had one foot already through.

"Geoff will come by tomorrow morning to pick you up. What's your address?"

"Geoff?"

"My slave."

"Oh. What? Really?" he said, squinting his eyes, "Wow! I can't believe I'm saying this. My address is 3404, 842-8th Avenue. He can just buzz me."

"No," she said, "I want you waiting for him in the lobby. He'll be there at 8:00. Be ready. And here are your first orders as my employee: dress as a woman as best you can with what you have. Bring all your female clothing with you, in suitcases I guess. Leave the rest. After he drops you off here, he'll take care of your belongings in your apartment and take care of the rent and anything else you can think of, like cancellation of your power, telephone, cable, etc. Your stuff will be put in storage, for retrieval if or when you decide to leave my service. Which you won't of course. You don't know that yet."

"Whoa! Wait a minute!" Jack said, shocked, "First of all, I didn't say I wanted to move to your place. Secondly I've never dressed as a woman in public before. Thirdly, how can I manage to sort out everything in just one night?"

"That's why I said to bring only your female clothes. Makes it simple. Geoff takes care of the rest. You need your toiletries and makeup too of course. And I just assumed you would want to make more money more quickly. If you move in, you get trained more quickly in a total immersion environment. Therefore, rather than $1,000 a week after six months, it's $1,000 a week after one month of immersion in your role. With regard to having never dressed in public as a woman before, I don't care about that, so your point would be...?"

Jack said, "Okay, I get the simplicity part. But you never mentioned the total immersion stuff before." He did the math in his head. Five months at roughly $4,000 per month plus $2,000 for the first month in total immersion equals $22,000. Six months at $2,000 per month equals $12,000. An extra $10,000 to do it her way."

"No, I didn't. I was going to do that when you arrived, as an option. Whatever. Do you want the adventure and increased dollars of a fast track or not?"

Jack closed his eyes and sighed. "Total immersion," he said, "That sounds both irresistible and terrifying. Tell you what, I'll do it, if you don't demand that I meet Geoff dressed as a woman. That scares the shit out of me."

"What?" Joan exclaimed, "You'd rather move into a dungeon with a dominatrix you barely know, than wear women's clothes in public? I'm beginning to think you're stupid. Maybe my instincts were wrong about you. You aren't making any sense. My commands are always nonnegotiable and you're trying to bargain? Maybe this wouldn't work at all. I have to ask you outright. Do you or don't you want this job?"

"Can I call you back?"

"No."

"So, it's all or nothing?"

"Yes. And remember, you can leave any time. Well, almost any time. You can't just decide to leave because you wouldn't do as I say. If you say yes to this job, this will be your consent to anything that follows. Periodically I need to ask you for ongoing consent, but that should be just a formality. During training, there may be, well, certain restrictions, and situations when you can't. And sometimes when you're in bondage, you won't have any choices at all. That's always more fun anyway, don't you think?"

"Look, uh Mistress Joan, I'm being pulled apart here. My fantasies are saying yes; my common sense is saying no. But, fuck...I'm broke. I just don't know..."

Mistress Johanna's voice became slightly tight and hard as she said, "Look Jack, make up your mind. I feel like I'm wasting my time, and I don't like to waste time. Yes, or no?"

"Okay, okay! It's yes then! Jesus, I'm a fucking lunatic!" But as he said it, he felt a huge weight lift off his back and it felt oddly right. Caution to the wind.

"Oh Jackie, Jackie, I'm so glad you're taking this risk with me. You won't regret it. Well, most of the time you won't. Your wings are about to spread." Her voice had changed back to that soft hypnotic tone.