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  • The Suitcase Ch. 03

The Suitcase Ch. 03

The saga continues in Part 3 of The Suitcase, where Georgina gets some body mods and her Daddy reveals the more sinister plot. Keep reading if you want to find out where our sissy will go next. Enjoy!

*****

It was like I was dreaming. My tall, hunky Daddy was leading me down the stairs to a sex dungeon which was packed with toys, while behind me was another stud, this one white and totally covered in tattoos. I was grinning from ear to ear. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, we turned right and went through a door I hadn't noticed before. I gasped as I saw what was down here. In front of me was pretty much a hospital examination room. The bright white light and gleaming aluminium surfaces were a complete contrast to the room we just went through, which was flooded with red light for a more sensuous experience. The clinical nature of my environment made my heart rise in my chest, but Daddy noticed my discomfort and put a reassuring hand around my slim waist. Pulling me close, he whispered, "You wanted this, remember?"

Meanwhile, the tattoo man had started to set up. Dumping his tool bag on a table, he started to extract bottles of ink and a metal contraption which had a lot of cylinders on it. I supposed that was what they called a tattoo gun (I'd never had a tattoo done myself). A lot more kit followed it out, and I was starting to wonder what this was all for, before finally the man spoke.

"Take your clothes off and get on the bed." After I had complied, he walked around the bed, using the included straps to restrain my limbs. I asked Daddy what they are for and he replied, "Piercings can sometimes be quite painful, Georgina. This is so you don't move around too much and cause yourself harm."

I understood what he was saying, but I was still a little put-out. I had no clue what modifications were about to take place, and with my movement being completely restricted, I was powerless to prevent anything I didn't want to happen. I had to put my complete faith in my new Daddy, and hope that he wouldn't do anything to me that I would hate later. I was literally quaking in fear and nervous anticipation, until the artist went to work and pain drove any other thoughts or misgivings from my head.

For the next thirty minutes, he worked on my body, starting at my face with a pair of clamps and a piercing needle, he put two piercings in each ear lobe, followed swiftly by one through the eyebrow, one in my left nostril and one through my top lip. He asked me to stick out my tongue, and he pushed a larger needle through it. This seemed to take a little more effort from him, and I certainly got more pain from that one than any so far. Slipping a barbell with a large ball through the hole, he put a piece of gauze in my mouth and moved on. My nipples were next, and I moaned into the gauze as the needle tore through each one, followed swiftly by small rings being fitted. Next came my navel, which was fairly painless (at least compared to the other ones). Finally, he came to my clitty. I felt dread begin to well up inside me. I wasn't disappointed as he pulled back the foreskin and suck a needle through the head, between my pee-hole and the underside of my clitty. My body coursed with pain and I screamed into my gag, but my Daddy was there to soothe me, placing his hand on my forehead and shushing me. I thought that would be the last of it, but next I heard a buzzing sound and realized that I was getting some tattoos.

The artist worked on me for another half an hour, going between my eyes, lips, nipples and crotch. I couldn't tell what he was doing, but I was thankful that it was a lot less painful than the piercings. Finally, after a lot of back and forth, he finished with my front and unstrapped me so I could flip over onto my front. I tried to catch a glimpse of myself in the polished metal surfaces, but Daddy covered my eyes with his big hands, and I was forced to lay on my front without seeing what had been done to me. As I lay there, the tattoo artist picked up his clamps and needle again, and moved to the small of my back.

Once again, I felt my skin pulled between the clamps as the needle was pushed through it, although this time, I didn't feel the needle exit the skin. Instead, he moved it around to create a space, and then withdrew the needle, replacing it with some new kind of jewellery. I was going to ask what it was, but I remembered the gauze in my mouth and so lay there without much fuss, while the buzzing noise resumed and my skin was tortured under his inking needle once again. This time, he moved from the small of my back to the nape of my neck, and also did some work on my left shoulder. I was actually starting to get kind of bored, now that the pain from my piercings had reduced to a dull throb, when he finally told us he was finished, and let me stand up. Daddy had been waiting to one side, enjoying the show. He came to me and took my hand, leading me over to a mirror.

When I saw what had been done, my mouth fell open and the gauze dropped out. I simply wasn't prepared for what I saw. The piercings were all in perfect positions. I thought the one in the side of my nose was especially cute. Upon inspection, all of the studs that had been fitted were actually tiny hot-pink penises! My nipples, if a little sore, looked so cute with the rings hanging from them. I avoided looking at what had been done to my clitty, but spent some time examining the miniature dildo that was hanging on a chain down from my belly button. Spinning around, I could see the dimples in my were pierced with sparkly jewels, but it was the tattoos that really caught my eye.

In the small of my back was a majestic butterfly, flapping its wings between the two dermal implants. On my left shoulder, Cupid sat with his bow, tiny cute wings and (for some reason) a raging hard-on. Using a hand mirror and the full-length one in front of me, I could read the message at the nape of my neck, announcing to the world that I was the property of my Daddy, as it listed both his full name and title. My front was just as spectacular. Above my clitty was a beautiful pink bow, which I absolutely adored. Looking at my nipples, I could see the areolas were considerably larger, as well as being slightly darker.

Finally reaching my face, I inspected the permanent make-up that had been applied. My lips were now a pretty hot-pink colour, and my eyes were lined with black. There was a small black heart over my right cheek bone. I turned to Daddy, grinning from ear to ear. "Thank you thooo much, they're all fantathtic! I love them!" I lisped and he hugged me. Then he said "It's not me you should be thanking."

I looked confused, but he indicated the artist, who was now holding out a couple of ice chips which he had gotten from the kitchen while I was examining my changes. Thanking him, I slipped them into my mouth, feeling them cool my swollen tongue. Next I knelt down on the floor in front of him, and took his cock out of his trousers, all the while keeping eye contact with him. Slowly, sensuously, I stroked his considerable length with both hands. I moved them in unison, stroking up and down while twisting my fingers around his veiny member. Next, I moved one hand to his purple, exposed head and massaged his pee-hole with my thumb while the other hand played with his balls. I took my hand off his head for a second and dribbled some of the molten ice onto my fingers before going back to playing with his head and shaft. When I thought he was close, I went back to stroking, this time putting a hand at either end and making them meet in the centre before pulling them apart. The tattooed man groaned above me, and I looked up to see his face contorted by ecstasy, as he let go of rope after rope of thick, gooey cum. It went all over my face, hair and fingers, which I quickly brought to my pink lips to clean off. Smiling up at him, I said, "Thank you very much, sir" and blew him a kiss.

Coming round from his orgasm, he told me I was very welcome, and then looked at my pouting lips as if he'd forgotten something. Remembering what it was, he reached into his bag and brought out a syringe and a bottle. Loading the syringe, he said to me, "I think those lips could do with a bit of a boost, don't you?" I nodded my agreement, eager to see what he was going to do next. He reached down, and injected half the syringe above my top lip and half into the bottom. I could feel the area start to tingle, and I excitedly waited for whatever chemical this was to take effect. Daddy suggested we should go upstairs for a cup of tea, and helped me to my feet. When we got upstairs, I excused myself to use the toilet, while the tattoo artist packed up and left.

On his way out he gave Daddy a list of instructions for care of my new decorations, which I couldn't stop admiring in the mirror as I scraped the cum off my face. I wasn't wild about the small ring in the end of my clitty, but other than that, I was overjoyed by everything that had been done. I practically skipped back into the living room, where Daddy had already poured me a cup of tea. As I sat down and took my first sip, he spoke.

"There are still a few physical things we need to take care of before you can call yourself a true sissy, such as hair styling and extensions, teeth whitening and body hair removal." There was something odd about the tea, a slight sour taste.

"I had considered implants, but I think I shall let your nipples heal a little first. For now, we'll have to make do with breast forms." Why were my arms feeling so heavy? I could barely lift the mug to drink my tea!

"Of course, all of this can be taken care of while you're unconscious. To be honest, so could the piercing, but I wanted to see how you took the pain. You didn't disappoint." He chuckled. I couldn't fathom why I was so exhausted. I could barely follow what he was saying, and I was struggling to keep my eye-lids open.

"I can see that you're tired. I'll let you rest. Here, I'll take that mug from you. That's it. Lay down. Have a nice nap. Oh, and by the way, 'Nutcracker'." BANG! Something sparked in my subconscious, and for the briefest of moments, I had a moment of clarity, before being plunged into darkness.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I woke up. My room was dark and my senses were telling me something was wrong. I stretched out both arms. I expected one to hit a wall and another to fall off the side of my single bed, but they both kept travelling across the silk sheets that covered this mattress. I was in a double bed. I looked around, turning my head to find a light source and feeling hair brush my neck and shoulders. I brought my hands up to my head and felt long, curly hair in the place of my normal Beatles-like style.

I also feel long, talon-like nails against my scalp. Thoroughly confused, although probably dreaming, I rolled out of bed, feeling a short satin nightie fall into place against my body. Swallowing, I felt something touch the roof of my mouth. I assumed it was a boiled sweet, and tried to spit it out, only to realise that it's pinned to my tongue. My tongue had been pierced! I didn't understand what was going on, so I told myself I was dreaming and decided to enjoy the ride.

Getting up, I tried to find the light switch that should have been next to the door. Carefully stepping around where my wooden wardrobe should have been, I reached out for the door and just felt a wall at my fingers. Suddenly, the light came on, illuminating my situation. The room I was standing in was not the shabby apartment bedroom that I had assumed. It looked to me as if it was a little girl's bedroom. The walls were baby-pink, and the bedclothes were satin and fuchsia-coloured. To my left, there was a large vanity desk with a pouf to sit on, and a mountain of make-up on top. Next to that was a large chest of drawers, which supported a large flat-screen TV which I could watch from bed. The room also contained a small bookshelf, mostly containing magazines of one form or another, and there were three doors.

Walking over to the first, I opened it to find a spacious bathroom with a large Jacuzzi bath inside. Seeing another door in the bathroom, I went to open that but found it locked. Coming back into the bedroom, I tried another door. This one was also locked. With only one door left, I was getting increasingly confused about my situation. I had to keep reminding myself that I was dreaming, even though this all felt so real. Opening the last door, I recoiled in shock. In front of me was a walk-in closet the same size as the bedroom. There was rack after rack of skirts, dresses, blouses, female sportswear, et cetera. The room had been split into aisle, like in a shop, and as I explored, I realized that each aisle held something different. In one, I found racks and racks of shoes, all with heels of more than 4 inches. In another, there were dozens of different uniforms. I could choose to be a maid, a school girl, a nurse, a chef, but all the uniforms shared one thing: they were all very short and revealing.

Going through the closet more, I found swimsuits, ball gowns, night clothes, and lingerie. Bewildered and frightened by what I had found, I went back into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, holding back tears. I had to keep muttering to myself that this was all just a dream. A strange, bizarre nightmare that would surely end soon. Just then, the TV screen flickered into life and a large black man I had never seen before came into view. He spoke.

"Good morning, Georgina, I hope you are well rested, but I understand that you may be feeling a little confused as to your current predicament. You may even be trying to persuade yourself that you are currently dreaming. Unfortunately for you, this is no dream. Here, I can prove it." Suddenly, I felt like my neck was on fire. I reached up to it, and found a collar that I hadn't noticed before. The pain stopped as I realised that I wasn't asleep in my old apartment, but instead had been moved here. I was actually here! But that meant... oh no!

I raced over to the vanity mirror to take a look at what had been done to me. I saw the multiple piercings, the make-up (I tried to wipe it off, but I soon realised that it had been tattooed on), my baby-pink satin nightie. Furious, I returned to the TV and shouted at it, not even caring if this guy couldn't hear me. "What the fuck have you done to me! Where in fuck's name am I? What is going on, you perverted cunt!"

"Language, Georgina! I appreciate that this is a lot to take in, but you really shouldn't be so rude to your master! Now, I'll punish you for that later. For now, I'll show you this video. It should help you remember what happened."

His face disappeared, and security footage came up on the screen. For the next 3 hours, edited highlights of my life from the last ten days were shown to me. I was disgusted by my own actions, but felt even worse because I couldn't remember a single thing that happened. Here I was prancing around my flat in lingerie, now I was alone in the office, wearing women's clothing while jerking off to tranny porn, now I was in the boss' office looking at the bondage pictures, sucking off my boss in the same room. I looked away, thinking I was going to throw up, but the collar buzzed again, making me focus back on the screen.

My time at the country house was well-documented. Me agreeing to become a slave for the next two years, being taken on a tour of the house, getting measured up for clothes in my lingerie, having all my body modifications done, thanking the artist with a hand job. Next came footage of me asleep, getting hair extensions put in, having manicures and pedicures, having my teeth cleaned and whitened. When the video ended, I was a shivering, sobbing wreck. I curled up in a ball on my new bed, while the door opened and 'Daddy' walked in. Suddenly motivated into movement, I sprang up and took a swing at him while lunging for the door. He grabbed me by the waist, lifting me high into the air and then slamming me back on the bed, before slapping me hard across the face.

"Stay still and listen to what I have to say, or I will tie you up and spank you while giving my explanation." At the threat, I quelled my anger and became submissive again, not wanting such a humiliating punishment.

"Your old boss and I have had our eye on you for quiet some while. Between us, we arranged for you to receive subliminal messages and hypnosis while you were at work and while you slept. For the six months you worked at the Evening Standard, you were trained to respond to the command words 'Ballerina' and 'Nutcracker'. 'Ballerina' would give you the urge to feel feminine, to wear female clothing and obey our every command. 'Nutcracker', which was the order I gave you before you passed out, made you forget everything that you had done because of 'Ballerina' and remember who you were as a man. We needed you to be in 'Ballerina' mode to accept my contract, but I much prefer forcefully feminizing people, so I used 'Nutcracker' on you yesterday. However, should you give me too much trouble or try to escape before your contract is up, I will put you into your submissive sissy role, understood?"

I gulped. This was all far too much to take in. While Daddy was also adding threats of sending the footage to co-workers and family friends, I was busy sinking into depression. There was absolutely no way out. I was trapped!

To be continued...

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