A long time ago it had become clear to me that my nature was not only submissive when in the presence of a powerful dominant woman, but I also wanted to serve such a woman, in any way she chose, for her own convenience, pleasure, happiness, and fulfillment. I expected no reward, no pleasure. My only motive was to serve this woman, and my motive was pure.
Several weeks ago I met the woman to whom I felt I could offer myself, to serve her. Being the intelligent and wise woman that she is, she recognized my essential nature, and accepted my offer. She said that she would train me to be her slave, her perfect slave. For that is my true nature; a slave; to give my selfless service to such a woman. This woman is my Queen.
I asked many questions about my coming training, and received just a few answers. I understood that I was going to be punished, because I had shown signs of disobedience earlier. I understood that I was to serve her in every way, large and small. If we went through a door, I was to hold it open for her. If she wished to take off her shoes, it was I, her slave, who was to get down on my knees to take them off for her. If she wanted to buy some things for herself, it was I who would help her choose, pay for her purchases, and carry her bags.
I had also asked her if she liked to feminize her subs, and she replied that yes, she liked it.
In the past I had read and seen photos of slaves being publicly humiliated. I asked my Queen, “Will you do this?” Her reply was short and to the point, as her answers often were. “Expect it,” she said.
Being brought into the public as a slave, dressed as a slave, being paraded as a slave; this was the stuff of nightmares! I am a very private person. I would rather face death than face being publicly humiliated!
Yet these were the words she uttered: “Expect it.”
She told me to meet her at a restaurant for lunch. I was excited and happy to see her again. She looked gorgeous as usual, in a black and white striped shirt, denim shorts, and beautiful taupe and red high heels. We chatted happily while we ate. I hadn’t seen her for six weeks, and I was hungry for her company.
After lunch we strolled back to my hotel room. As soon as we were inside I fell on my knees and bowed to the floor, as she had instructed me many weeks before in our first meeting. She said “Kiss my shoes.” I obeyed, with pleasure. She lifted my head, then gave two hard slaps, one on each cheek, smiling all the while. I felt these slaps to be reminders of her dominance, and at the same time, a sign of her caring for me. She told me to rise, and strip. Very soon I was naked.
She looked me over, and seemed satisfied. She indicated that I was to get on my knees. I obeyed. From her bag she produced black nipple clamps and chain, and carefully applied them to my nipples. The pain shot through me like fire. It didn’t ease at all during the next hour. She selected a length of cord, and began to tie it around my balls, at the junction with my cock. Then she separated my two balls with the cord, and pulled it tight. I could see them, like purple marbles. She continued, wrapping my cock with the cord until it was encased, and tied off at the glans. I felt helpless and emasculated, like a eunuch of old.
Then she brought out leather cuffs and collar and chains. First the collar. She fastened it tight around my neck, the way she likes it. Then my ankles were fastened, also tightly. Finally my wrists were pulled behind me and I felt her tightening the leather cuffs as hard as she could. The chains connected my neck to my wrists and ankles. She walked behind me, and pulled the chain. My head was forced back, and my neck was constricted. I gasped and groaned; she sighed and moaned. She released her grip on the chain for a moment, then repeated the action, with the same result. And released again. I felt that I was going to be in for a very challenging training session!
She then selected a couple of silk scarves. One, she folded carefully. The other, she wrapped around my face and head to form a hood, knotting it at the back of my head. Now I could only see through a haze of red. Then I felt the other scarf being placed over my eyes, passed behind my head, and pulled tight. She had blindfolded me. But more was to come. She brought the ends of the scarf around to my mouth, and knotted it very tight, forcing the hood scarf into my mouth, to form a gag. I heard her laugh with satisfaction. My knees were hurting, I was restricted by leather and chains, I was hooded and gagged, and my nipples were hurting! I was starting to feel a little desperate, especially when the gag got wet and started to affect my breathing. I struggled, she sighed and laughed.
She said “Stay like this” and left the room. I obeyed, as I must. A slave has no choices. Time passed. The wetter the hood and gag got, the harder it was to breathe. But many minutes passed and she didn’t return. I was feeling more and more desperate. I felt for the wrist restraints, and realized that I could probably release myself! But my Queen is very serious with her instructions. I dared not disobey her, because I knew it would result in very severe, extremely painful punishment, which I was not willing to endure. And so I didn’t move.
I heard her come into the room, felt her remove the hood and gag. With relief I sucked in deep breaths of air. She had changed her clothes. Now she was dressed in true domme style, black body lingerie with buckles and studs, high black stockings, and long black boots with high heels. She looked magnificent! She smiled at me, an impossibly beautiful smile. “How do you feel?” “My Queen, I feel like a slave!” ‘Well, you are a slave, my slave. I own you, every part of you.” “Yes my Queen, you do, I know.”
Next she released me from the restraints, and opened a small suitcase. She brought out some black clothes, and ordered me to put them on. I was lost for words. I could see stockings, body lingerie with suspenders, a g-string. All were black. I picked up the lingerie, trying to work out how to put it on. She helped. It covered me from chest to upper thighs. It had straps which went over my shoulders and fastened around my neck, like a choker. She pulled it tight. “Now these,” she said, pointing at the stockings. I started to put them on, and she corrected me, and I pulled them over my legs. She fastened them to the lingerie suspender belts. Then I was handed a pair of long black gloves. I put them on. They reached to my elbows. I was being feminized, for the first time in my life! I didn’t know what to think, what I was feeling. I only knew that this was what my Queen had ordered, and that I had to submit. Finally the tiny black g-string was put on, with difficulty, as she had to manipulate my tied cock and balls into the small space. Soon it was done.
But she was far from finished. From her bag she pulled out a wig, a blonde wig! Inside myself I felt a recoil, and paradoxically, a kind of loving acceptance. This is what my Queen wanted. I was happy to submit. She placed the wig on my head, …...pulled and stroked the hair this way and that way until she was satisfied. Then she opened a small bag; of makeup!. She carefully painted my lips, taking her time, working with concentration, like an artist. After a while she finished, and began to paint around my eyes. She was intent on turning me into a woman! At last, she seemed satisfied. She stood back, murmured “No”, and touched up my eyes. Again she seemed finished. She stepped back, surveyed her creation, and pronounced me “Beautiful! Go and look in the mirror.” I obeyed, and was astounded at the transformation. Aside from my man’s body, the clothes, wig, and makeup had totally changed my appearance. I was truly feminized!
“Do you want to go outside?” The question floored me, but at the same time wasn’t unexpected. I thought for a moment, then said “Do I have a choice?” “No, you have no choices. We will go out.”
She instructed me to pull on my jeans, and a shirt. She knotted the tails of the shirt, and left the front open. My black body lingerie was fully visible, as was the choker. “Now put your sneakers on. Ok. Are you ready?” “I guess so, my Queen.” I was far from ready, yet I trusted her, so I wasn’t sure that I would experience the nightmare that I had been anticipating with dread.
We left my room, descended to the ground floor, and walked out onto the busy street. She said “This way.” I followed behind her for a few paces, then she said “Walk with me.” As I came next to her she held my hand. I immediately felt my embarrassment and nervousness evaporate. Instead, I felt protected, even loved. I watched the crowds of people, and realized that few were looking at us. They were intent on their own progress and purpose. The few who did notice just looked away again. We looked at each other, she with a broad smile, me with just the hint of a grin.
“How do you feel?” she said. I thought for a moment. “I’m not sure, my Queen. Not much of anything. But actually, I feel calm. And I have felt protected by you from the moment that you held my hand. I’m calm, because I’m under your protection, my Queen. You are protecting my mind and emotions.” She smiled. ‘Yes, that’s right. I told you that I would protect you.” “Yes, my Queen.” She had told me, weeks before, but the reality of the feeling was far different than merely being told. In fact, it was deeply moving, and I felt closer to her than ever before, and at the same time, totally owned. The effect was heightened by my constant awareness of my body and the beautiful female clothes that held me tight under my jeans and shirt. The lingerie, the g-string, and especially the choker. And my cock and balls tightly bound by the cord. I felt them all in every moment, with every step.
She wanted to do some shopping. We walked through several streets until we reached the right subway station. I asked her how her feet were, in her beautiful high heels. “Burning,” she said. “Oh, we have to fix that,” I said. She wanted to continue walking, in spite of sore feet. By then I had begun avoiding eye contact with individuals among the crowds. Instead I was using my peripheral vision so that I could see peoples’ reactions without engaging with them. It was surprising how little attention we attracted, me, a tall man dressed as a woman, a transvestite as far as anyone could see, and my extremely beautiful companion. But children were different. They gawped and stared, and chattered excitedly to their friends as we walked among them.
We entered the subway, went down the escalator and boarded the train, our bodies close among the crowds. I looked into her beautiful green eyes and my sense of calm deepened. As before, people noticed, but turned away after a brief look. We got off after two stations, walked a while and got back onto the escalator. Half way up she held my arm and quietly said “Walk fast.” I obeyed. After we reached the top, she said “A couple of people were trying to take photos.” With gratitude, I realized again that she was protecting me the whole time. I had been unaware of any cameras, but she was watchful on my behalf.
Back on the busy streets we walked until she found the shop she wanted. We went inside, but nothing was to her satisfaction. We walked again, and found another place. We walked up three flights of stairs, and entered a small shop. There she found a collar. Wide, with three rings. We bought that and a few other things and went down to the street again. She was visibly hurting. I said “Let’s buy some shoes.” She nodded, found a shop, and sat down. She glanced down and I knelt and removed her shoes. She indicated a couple of pairs of sneakers, tried them on, chose one, and I bought them. Now she walked freely, her slim legs swinging along in long strides. She is beautiful in her movement, whether like this, or walking slowly, like a queen, in her high heels. My Queen is always graceful.
She needed a hardware store, which we presently found. She selected many items and I paid at the counter. By now I was loaded down with bags, and we were getting hungry. We found a small restaurant and sat down. A group of young men were celebrating a birthday. They glanced at us, then went back to their drinking and singing. The waitress served us, and appeared not to notice the strangeness of my appearance. I was relieved that I was attracting very little attention, even in this situation.
We left the restaurant, and hailed a taxi. The driver looked at me, astonished, even perplexed. We gave him the hotel location, and he drove. I knew that in his mind he was muttering to himself about strange foreigners! Having reached our destination in a short space of time, I paid him and we got out of the taxi. I imagined that I saw relief on his face as we left.
Back in our room my Queen told me to take my clothes off and relax. I did so, putting on a robe. She indicated that I should kneel. I obeyed, and she put the new collar on me. It was wide, stiff and uncomfortable. “Thank you, my Queen,” I said. “Now, would you like a glass of wine?” I had remembered that weeks previously she had mentioned that she enjoyed chardonnay, among other drinks. I had bought a bottle earlier and it was nicely chilled in the fridge. I poured two glasses, and we smiled at each other. “Cheers!”
We chatted and drank. After a while she pointed to the black clothes I had removed, and said “You will wear these clothes tonight while sleeping.” “Yes, my Queen.” I was ready to obey. But then she said, “No, it has been a hot day. You will wash them. Instead of these, you will keep your new collar on.” My heart sank. It was already uncomfortable, and I knew it would be worse in bed all night. I would not be getting a good night’s sleep. But I said “Yes, my Queen, I obey you. I always obey you.” “Yes, I know,” she said. “You will wear the collar all night and next day until I see you around three o’clock. Don’t take it off. Only your Queen can take it off.” “Yes, of course, my Queen.”
We enjoyed some more conversation and another glass of wine. Then she told me to prepare her bags. I did so. She bade me goodnight, and I replied “Goodnight my Queen.” I opened the door and she was gone. Tired as I was after a momentous afternoon, I got ready for bed. I watched TV for a while, then switched it off. I lay down. My collar was stiff, and it was difficult to find a comfortable position. But eventually I slipped away into sleep.