Idnapped

I see nothing but the darkness as the hood is pulled over my head, and I feel my body pulled back into an unmarked van. Their hands are so strong, pulling my arms behind me, trapping my legs together.

I squirm and try to cry out, in shock and fear, but the cloth against my mouth silences me. There's something else too, making me feel strange. I see stars, and then darkness.

I can feel this steady hum as I slowly wake, still in darkness, still bound helpless. I squirm and moan, but the cloth comes back, and just as I realize it's the sound of the van on a highway, I fall back into that dreamless sleep.

When I wake again, the hood is gone and I can see out the windows. The signs are different, the landscape strange, and I know I'm not home any more. I can feel the change in our driving feels -- there are starts and stops and turns. We're not on a highway any more.

As soon as we stop, I feel their hands on me again, the cloth comes with it and I fade into those stars again. I seem to come and go through consciousness in waves, only dimly aware of strange faces and sensations, or of my inability to move or speak. It all seems like a confusing fever dream.

I see just a single silhouette over me, as I finally seem to be allowed to wake for longer than a moment or two. I still can't move. My arms and legs feel held down. I feel pinned to this bed, with bright lights and confusion devices around me. My body feels sore, and strange.

The voice is soft, deep, sexy in a purr like a whisper.

"Welcome back. You should know that everything is going very well. All your treatments are working perfectly."

Treatments?

I wonder in panicked thoughts

I can move my head just enough to see IV's in both arms, and I really start to worry.

"The hormones that you've been on for the last 12 weeks have really taken hold. We'll get the sheet off you later, to show you, but your little titties are already coming in nicely. Your facial features are softening, and of course the electrolysis has gotten rid of that nasty hair, from your neck down. I'm afraid it's had an effect on your genitals, but no matter, those will be mostly caged and locked up anyways. Let's just say you'll need a smaller cage than you used to."

My heart is pounding.

"Your first body-shaping surgery went quite well, helping to round out your hips. That, along with the liposuction and ongoing corset training, will really help with your curves. We'll see how you do on hormones before we give you your final titties."

I'm in shock. It can't be real.There's too much to take in.

I try to speak, but my throat is dry and sore, and my lips feel heavy.

"Don't strain quite yet, baby. We scraped your vocal cords a bit, to raise your voice, and you'll probably need a few days to get used to your fuller lips too. Just rest for a bit. We'll get you up and on your feet tomorrow. Well, not on your feet I guess. We've shortened some tendons a bit, so you're really going to have to walk on 5" heels at least from now on."

The figure fiddles with the IV bag above me and I feel my eyelids so heavy. I try to resist for a moment or two, but once again I fall into a heavy sleep.

When I wake again, I feel the figure still there, seated at the side of my bed.

"Good morning... I wanted to be here when you woke up. You have obviously gotten a lot of information and I wanted to explain a bit more to you -- the you need to know beyond your treatments. Where to start? So, yes, let's see. We took you a little over three months ago. They've pretty much stopped looking for you. Your job is gone. Your apartment is gone. Your girlfriend has cried and moved on. She happens to already be fucking your friend David, it turns out.

"In time, before your government takes it, I'll empty out your bank accounts, to cover the costs of your treatments and, well, just because I want to. It shouldn't be a surprise to you, but you're far from home. You don't have a single thing but what I'll give you. You don't have any ID or papers but for what I have made for you. You won't have a roof over your head or a warm bed, but for what I provide for you."

She pauses, as if to let the power of her words sink in.

"If you reach up, you'll feel the metal collar around your neck that should constantly remind you of this. Don't feel for a lock, there isn't one. It is there permanently, just as you are mine permanently."

I try to speak.

"Why.... why are you doing this to me?"

"Because I can. Because I want to. Because of the files you looked at online, that you thought no one knew about, made me hot to think about making your forbidden dreams real. But, really, it comes down to because I want to, and because it turns me on."

They pull back the sheet, and I get the first glimpse of myself. I can see my flesh, soft and smooth. Hairless. Instead of my cock, I see just a little pink nub of a cage, with swollen, hairless balls trapped beneath. I see the start of puffy breasts on my chest, and my waist held and squeezed in a laced corset.

"Now, I wanted you fully awake for this part."

They give a signal, and another figure appears all dressed in white, complete with medical mask and latex gloves. The new figure opens up a case of equipment, and soon I recognize the needle of a tattoo artist.

Taking all the time needed, I can feel this new person getting ready. All I can see is their eyes, but they are pretty and feminine, wide and focused. She cleans the skin just above my locked cock with antiseptic wipes. She seems to just ignore me, as though I am just a canvas.

I wince as the needle starts to touch flesh, marking me.

She takes her time and it's hard to see but I get a glimpse every time she wipes the field clean to keep working. The pain keeps me in the moment, watching and feeling, my wrists and ankles still cuffed to the sides of the bed, holding me if I dared to try to move.

I feel the strangeness of having to feel this and watch it happening on a body I barely recognize, looking past breasts that are now mine.

It takes so long, and her work is so exquisite and fine, but then she's finally done, wiping me clean. She pulls out a camera phone to take a photo, and she holds it up to show to me, so that I can see it properly, and read the words upright. Written in fine calligraphic script, across my flesh there forever, are the words "Sissy Slave Slut." I just feel tears fill my eyes. I don't believe how all this can be real.

The tattoo artist packs up and leaves, leaving me alone with the shadowy figure once more.

"I'm going to let you up soon and take you to your new room. It's the first step in getting you started in your new life. I need you to understand that you are mine. You are my sissy slave slut. Every word of mine is a command for you. Don't forget that. I can put you out on the street in a moment. You don't have an 'old life' to go back to. You don't have a dollar to your name, nor a single stitch of clothing that isn't mine to give you, or to take away. You will call me 'Mommy' or 'Mistress,' as I choose. And you'd best do everything you can to be obedient and to make me pleased to have taken you. Do you understand?"

My mind races with fear and pain and disbelief all mixed in. I feel like I need time, just to have it all sink in.

"Yes, Mistress," I answer.

"Good slut. Oh, that reminds me. Your old name is gone. Done. Forgotten. For now, you will be called just 'slut' until we think of something better to put on your new ID."

She frees my ankles and wrists, and lowers the railing on her side of the bed. I swing my feet over and move to slide down off the bed, onto the floor. As my feet land, I try to stand, only to feel searing pain in my calves, and I crumple to the floor.

"I told you slut, you need heels now," she scolds me.

She crouches down and straps 5 inch stiletto heels onto my feet, and then gives me a hand as I try to stand once more.

I can make it up onto my feet like this, though it feels barely more stable than standing on tip-toe. I wobble a few times, walking behind her. My body just feels strange. The corset keeps my posture upright, but it is like I can feel a change in my center of gravity.

My hips wriggling, my little breasts jiggling. I'm led to a space down a long hallway that looks something between a bedroom and a jail cell. The wall facing the hallway is just bars, with a heavy gate lockable from the outside, but the other three walls are pink, trimmed in white and satin. There's a pink princess bed and a little open washroom and shower, again all pink and white, with a large TV mounted on the wall at the foot of the bed.

She closes the door with a heavy metal clang behind me, and is gone by the time I turn around. For the first time here, I find myself alone and unrestrained. I sit down on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands, trying to understand what the hell is happening to me. It's hard to even focus on one part.

It feels like months really could have gone by since I was taken. It feels like she is telling me the truth. The drugs must have taken time to change my body like this -- but that means the rest is true too. I must have been fired from my job. My relationships are over. My home and my stuff, are they all gone? Is it all just this now?

Could this cell really be my home now? Is this it? What do they want from me? Was this about taking my money? Taking my identity?

Maybe that is the core of my confusion: not knowing what they want of me. If it was just money or identity, they wouldn't have had to do all this to me. Thinking of that, of

this,

my hands, for the first time, wander down, over my body.

I feel so strange. Not just hairless but soft. My chest -- my breasts -- they feel so soft but also firm, and my nipples feel so puffy and sensitive. I realize that even my own touch on them is getting me aroused.

This arousal comes at a price as I can feel my cock trying to harden, but getting nowhere, trapped in its little pink prison. I feel myself swelling and painfully limited by the cage, and visibly so. I'm all hairless down there too so my balls look strange and pale, and a bit swollen.

In a kind of self defense, I lift my hands from myself. With nothing to do but think, I stretch out on the bed. There's no remote for the TV that I can see, so I just let the confusing array of thoughts wash over me and stare at the black rectangle. I don't know how long I've been staring when the screen flickers on.

The large screen is filled almost immediately with porn. It is close up porn, shot beautifully and artfully, but it is all cock-sucking porn. Lips wrapped around cocks. Hands stroking cocks. Cocks pounding deep into eager mouths. All the focus is on the use and bliss of these women and their mouths and the throbbing cocks making use of them. They cum over and over, in their mouths, on their tongues, over their lips, and across their faces.

I try to look away at first but there is nowhere else to look and the sounds echo around me no matter what. All that wet slurping and the moans. I feel my body react with arousal, which torments me in new ways.

I can't help but think about cocks on my own lips and in my mouth. In this cage, with the unknown effects of whatever they've been feeding me, I can't seem to put myself in the role of the men with their huge, throbbing cocks.

God, what is happening to me? I'm laying here, afraid to touch myself, and I can't get the thought of starring in these kinds of movies out of my head. I close my eyes and I see me on my knees, me sucking cock, me lapping up cum, and me feeling the warm ropes of jizz sprayed across my face. What is wrong with me that these thoughts are turning me on? That I can't stop my cock from trying to get hard in its tormenting cage?

It seems to go on for hours and hours and by the time it stops I'm exhausted. The images wash over me, and I just fall to sleep.

I'm startled awake. The lights are dim around me and there are no windows that I can see. With the lights soft like this, and with the quiet, it just feels like night.

There is someone in here with me and he's grabbing my wrists, pulling them behind me, and quickly tying them there. I feel his hand on my mouth, silencing me.

He whispers into my ear.

"You belong to us now. You belong to any and all of us. Be a good slut, or Mistress will hear about it."

He pulls me roughly up onto my knees and I feel his hand strong at the back of my neck, pulling me down. His grip is pulling my mouth down to his cock which is already half hard and jutting out above his open trousers. It really is me this time, I think, as he pushes his cock past my lips. He's got hold of me, keeping me from pulling back at all, and his hips start thrusting.

He's moaning, and getting harder quickly. I don't want to anger him. In fact, I feel the opposite. I feel this inner need to please him. Maybe that will make this go faster. Maybe that will also help me avoid any punishment or mistreatment.

And so I suck and I lick, as much as I can have any agency in this situation. Mostly he seems to be just fucking my mouth, so at least I can keep my teeth out of the way, and use my tongue to slide against him and add pressure. It just keeps going and going, and I feel him get harder and thicker. I feel him ram so deep, making me gag around him, making me drool and slurp, just like the eager girls in the videos.

Eventually I feel the change in his rhythm. He becomes more jerky, more urgent, and then I feel his thick cock start to spasm. He starts to shoot his cum right into me, over my tongue and filling up my mouth. I feel like my cheeks are puffed out, like I can't fit it all in my mouth.

He slides back as he finishes, making sure I swallow it all and then urging me to lick him clean. He just laughs when he's done.

"Thanks slut. See you again soon."

He pushes me over on the bed, and I don't even realize that my wrists are still tied until I hear the door clang shut in the dark. I feel ashamed. I feel so used and owned. I can feel his taste filling my mouth and with my hands bound I can't even wipe my face so the mess just dries on my lips and chin while I lay there, on my side, feeling broken and defeated until at last I fall into a fitful sleep once more.

I wake slowly with the first conscious sensation being that of a dry, odd taste in my mouth and then it all comes back. The feeling of that man's cock in my mouth, the taste of him cumming, and with all that the realization that this bad dream is all real. My hands, free now I realize, sliding down my naked body confirm that too, including the cage.

I swing my legs off the bed with the strange sensation of having high heels being the only thing I'm wearing, other than the collar, I suppose, and the chastity cage. I rise and use the washroom. I wash up as best I can in the sink. I'd love to take a shower, but I'm not sure how the high heels are going to work with that.

I'm not given too much time to think about it as I hear footsteps coming down the hallway toward me. I move, standing over by the bed. I blush when I see that there is another man, one I've not seen before. Will the humiliation of being exposed, like this, over and over, to strangers ever cease?

"Time to go, slut. Stand facing the bed, wrists behind you."

I comply in silence, and as I take the instructed pose, I hear the heavy cell door open behind me. He quickly encircles my wrists with what feels like wide leather cuffs, locking them together behind me. He kneels down and locks similar cuffs onto my ankles, and links those with a short length of chain.

Without warning I feel him reach around and push his fingers into my mouth. He pushes my teeth apart, and I feel him push a ball tasting of rubber into my mouth. It's a gag, and he buckles it tight behind my head, getting it so snug that it pulls at my cheeks.

He clips a leash to my collar and then turns me toward the door. He tugs at the leash, indicating without bothering to speak that I should follow him. The chain between my ankles limits me to short, shuffling steps and that, combined with the high heels, makes me feel rather silly as I move down the hallways.

I'm eventually brought to a large, open room. I am brought to stand in a circle of light, but all around me the space just seems to extend off into darkness. My guide leaves me there for a moment, but then he's back, wheeling a large open frame towards me. It must be 7 feet tall and 5 feet wide. It looks like a heavy steel open frame on a stabilizing base and heavy wheels.

He unlocks my wrist cuffs from each other and moves my arms from behind me over my head and I'm tugged to stand on the base of the frame, as he lifts my wrists up to its upper corners. I am pulled up onto my toes even more as he also removes the hobble chain between my ankles, and tugs them wide, to affix them to the bottom corners of the frame.

"It's treatment time. Mistress says even though you're done the big things that you had to be unconscious for, there are still more treatments that need to be kept up on."

He steps away and starts wheeling other equipment up to me. There are heavy boxes on wheels, with tubes and dials and lights. I can only moan into my gag, feeling so helpless as I can't even stop myself from drooling around it.

He smears a thick cream over my breasts, cold and gooey, not unlike lubricant. To my shame, I feel my cock twitch with the sensation of touch on my swollen nipples. Next he presses these clear, breasts shaped cups against my chest, each with a tube running from the tip and with a push of a button, I feel suction draw them against me, sealing them onto me. The suction just keeps coming and I feel the pull at my new, little breasts. I start to moan with the mixture of discomfort and pleasure.

But of course he's not done. Something I can't turn to see is wheeled up behind me. I can't see it but I do feel it as he smears lubricant between my spread ass cheeks and as I feel something start to press up against my ass. The pressure builds, pushing, until my rosebud is penetrated and I feel what can only be some kind of dildo pushing its tip inside my tight ass. There's a pause and I try to get used to the intrusion but then there's a click and a mechanical hum and whatever it is starts to pump up and down, fucking my ass with merciless drive.

Spread open, my posture a helpless X, I can just moan and suffer, feeling these machines fuck my ass and suck onto my breasts.

"Oh, and don't think I forgot breakfast..."

He just laughs and wheels over something not unlike an IV stand. There's a thin tube that gets pushed through the middle of the rubber ball that's gagging me. I can feel a sickly sweet taste on my tongue and the cool liquid just starts dripping down and sliding back and down my throat.

"Nutrition and medication and hormones, all with our own patented 'sweetened-cum' flavor."

With that taunt, he just leaves, walking away into the darkness, leaving me there, stretched and displayed to whomever might be watching. I feel the damned suction just keep pulling at my chest, at my breasts. I feel the thick toy fucking my ass with its ceaseless rhythm. The feeding tube just keeps dripping. The sweet feed is taking away my hunger but is also making me feel so strange inside, tingly and sensitive.

Time seems to drag on and then drift, as though I'm slipping into dreams. I'm still trapped here but surrounded by ghosts and spirits and visions. I remember the man last night, but now the memory of the taste of him is getting sweeter. I remember the feel of his hands on me, and the memory of his touch is getting more arousing. My cock is aching in its confinement and it feels like it is leaking as well. Not cumming, but just oozing warm thin precum.

I lose track of time but at some point the man from before is back. He shuts down the pistoning cock up behind me and slips it away from me. I realize my behind feels stretched and empty but that feeling is short lived as he stuffs me back full with a heavy, cold plug.