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From: np98rb@mail.telepac.pt (Christine & David Stevenson)
Subject: Under Control part fourteen of twenty eight
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Under Control - part fourteen of twenty eight
by mailto: VictorBruno@mschristine.com
this story remains copyright Victor Bruno, release to publish
granted to Christine Stevenson.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
* * *
It was several hours later that Paul began to become aware of his
ultimate fate at Bel Air. Miss Mandy had issued explicit
instructions to this end and had delegated Delia to carry them
out.
He lay on his back on a heavy bench, spreadeagled, secured by
straps at his wrists and ankles. Delia, quite naked, sat on his
face; she was turned towards the lower part of his body.
Half-suffocated by the lush spread of her buttocks, his nose and
mouth in her widened cleft, he was tonguing her constantly. His
tongue, which had barely recovered after serving Miss Mandy, was
aching painfully. He was in abject terror, as Delia was holding a
cut throat razor; so in fear he tongued as instructed.
She, meanwhile, was shaving the hair of his chest and his belly.
Already she had shaved all the hair off his head, to give him the
closest possible crew-cut, and had also removed the hair under
his armpits. That she was very much enjoying her task, and his
ministrations, he was well aware. Her soft wet flesh quivered and
she uttered little gasps from time to time as she went about her
work. Sometimes Paul's vision was fully obscured by the crush of
the fulsome hindquarters; sometimes he was able to see the curve
of her buttocks in immediate close-up just above.
Terrified also of becoming aroused by her closeness he tried to
concentrate his mind on something else. He shivered and shuddered
as the open cut-throat razor slid over his flesh whilst Delia
hummed contentedly to herself. Her task was to remove every
single hair from his body . . . a preliminary to the next stage
of the transformation which Miss Mandy had devised. Paul, it need
hardly be said, was in a state of the keenest agitation and
filled with a hopeless dread. Because he knew there was
absolutely nothing he could do to change the course of events
which had been planned.
Delia seized his flaccid organ and gave it a painful tug. "It is
lucky for you, slave," she said, "that my orders do not include
cutting this off. Making you a eunuch, in fact." She ran the tip
of the razor around the root of his organ and his scrotum and
Paul's blood froze. Half drowning in the succulence of her, he
choked out an incoherent cry of mercy. "But that would have been
too easy," continued Delia. "Quite rightly, I now realise, your
mistress, Miss Gloria, wishes to retain all your male faculties
whilst yet, in effect, making you a woman. That will be far more
arduous for you to endure. I am sure your suffering will amuse
many ladies in future."
With meticulous thoroughness Delia began to shave Paul's pubic
hairs, keeping a firm grasp on his stretched penis. Despite the
shock and humiliation, he found himself stiffening. Delia giggled
and played with him with a kind of callous arrogance. "You are a
randy bastard, aren't you?" she said. "Well, there soon won't be
many more opportunities for this kind of self expression, I can
tell you!"
An even deeper despair filled Paul. He was aware, in some way, he
was going to be virtually emasculated. But quite how he did not
know.
Delia completed the close intimate shaving of the genitalia and
then, after a final tiny little shiver of pleasure, slid her lush
bottom off Paul's face. Greedily he gulped in air. There had been
moments when he thought the crushing female flesh would truly
suffocate him as his mouth and tongue had worked incessantly. Yet
he had not dared to stop for a moment. "I'll give you a sound
caning if you do," his young blonde mistress had promised, "and,
tender as you are, I know you wouldn't like that one little bit."
Paul had been well aware of the truth of her words.
Now, with breasts bouncing provocatively before him Delia
completed her task by shaving his thighs and legs. "We've got to
have you as smooth as a girl all the time," she said with a
wicked grin, "so I'll be doing this regularly with creams. How
does that take your fancy, slave?"
"I . . . I . . . am in y-your hands . . . c-completely,
mistress," croaked Paul.
Delia nodded complacently. "That's absolutely right," she said.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
This story is being released as an illustrated web book, for
autoresponder details of Victor Bruno Books available please
contact
VictorBruno@MsChristine.com
http://www.mschristine.com/bruno.html
Also published as text simultaneously on......
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