Secrets Ch 53

53

Handwashing Jennifer's lingerie seemed to take forever, but I didn't want to rush. That was the thing about taking on tasks for my Mistress or her friends -- it truly meant a lot to me to do a good job. I was proud of how their house looked now that I'd finished cleaning, and I wanted that feeling to continue with this, even if the results might be more subtle.

Once every piece was washed, rinsed and set out to dry, I returned to the living room for further instructions. The three of them seemed engaged in a rather intense conversation, but stopped speaking as I approached.

"The laundry is done, Miss Jennifer," I said, as all eyes turned to me.

"Very good, Dolly," Jane answered on behalf of them all. "We were thinking of dinner, but there isn't really enough in the house to cook with. We've decided to order in, but you can still set the table for us."

"Yes, Mistress," I said, and turned to get to work.

They hadn't said what kind of food they had ordered, so I tried to anticipate anything and set the table generically but completely. Hopefully, I set myself a place setting as well. It wasn't long at all before the doorbell rang.

"Get that, will you," Master called out to me. "It's already paid for."

I could feel the instinctive terror rising in me as soon as he said those words. I had gotten almost used to being dressed and presented like this in front of the three of them, but having to face someone normal had me burning with humiliation.

"Yes, Master," I managed to reply.

I made my way to the door and looked through the peephole. The delivery driver was waiting there, bag in hand. I wanted to wait to see if he'd drop it off and leave, but I knew what Master expected of me. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

He noticed the motion and began lifting his arm to hand me the bag before even looking up, but when he did, he started and twitched visibly, so much so that I was worried he'd drop the food. I watched his reaction in what felt like slow motion. His eyes went to my chest first, not able to tell at first that the breasts were fake, or not caring. Then they noticed the uniform and the stockings and short skirt. It wasn't until his eyes finally made it up to my face, or perhaps when I thanked him with a near-whisper that he saw and realized the truth about me. I closed the door, blushing in shame as the shock and confusion spread across his face.

My heart was pounding as I carried the food to the table and began unpacking it. I could see and hear the tree of them giggling at me, having observed at least some of the interaction at the door. It seemed to bring them so much joy to tease me, tormenting me with exposure. There was no complaint or comment about me taking my seat with them which was a relief, as I was hungry, but was also frankly a bit of a surprise. I was quiet as I ate, adhering to the policy of not speaking until spoken to.

"Imagine, Dolly," Master said out of a quiet moment, "if you were dressed and looking feminine enough that someone like our delivery man out there couldn't even see the truth about you. He'd just be staring at your body and thinking about fucking you."

"I don't know that I could really fool anyone up close, Master," I said.

"Not today, no," he said. "But if you wanted to -- or perhaps more accurately, if your Mistress wanted you to, you could get there."

I couldn't help but look over at Jane, as he turned to direct his words to her.

"What do you think, Jane? It's not really that hard anymore, with hormones and diet and patience to really help someone like your Dolly to really make a change in themselves."

"That sounds so extreme," she answered, looking at him instead of me.

"I think it used to be, but not anymore. Perhaps things like surgery are, but most of those options are end-game moves, not places to start."

"What are you planning over there?" Jennifer teased.

"I'm not planning anything," Master laughed. "It's not my place to. Dolly belongs to Jane, and quite completely. I'm not the one who dressed Dolly up as a sissy maid today. I'm just saying, in case Jane isn't aware, that there are plenty of ways to take Dolly even farther down that path, should she want to."

"To really change the way she looks?" Jane asked.

"Yes, the way she looks, but I suppose deeper than that. Hormones, for example, would certainly start to reshape her over time, but would also affect her sex drive. Replacing the testosterone in her body with estrogen."

"People would notice that," Jane said. "If he started looking different."

"Yes, they would," Master said. "At a certain point the changes would definitely be noticed, and there would be questions to answer. Thresholds like that can be good stepping stones."

"What do you mean?" Jane asked.

"Think of it like when you moved past just fantasizing about fucking a man at work," Jennifer answered, "Once you actually got over the idea that it was impossible or forbidden and actuall did it, look how a whole new world opened up for you."

"And having David become more Dolly, even if people noticed..."

"Right. Yes, people would notice. Yes, he'd have to address it at work, or maybe even change jobs, but ask yourself what kind of doors would that open for you both," Jennifer continued, her smile widening.

"I can't quite see his current office really welcoming our Dolly, especially if she's dressing like this," Jane laughed.

I blushed and laughed along, but I felt the nature of it so internally. I tried to imagine walking into that place, even with a relatively conservative outfit on. If I had breasts like these, they'd be impossible to hide. I could imagine the men's eyes on me, following every motion and jiggle, and that was if they were just looking at me as a woman. If they knew who I used to be, their expressions would surely be different -- I'd see judgement, curiosity, disgust and amusement.

"That's okay," Master chimed in. "There are certainly better jobs for a girl like Dolly. She clearly has options, just in domestic work."

"Oh hell yes," Jennifer added. "This place has never looked better, and we know that Ken also enjoyed the perks of having her here."

"She could work her schedule so I always came home to dinner and a glass of wine waiting for me," Jane mused.

I was getting more nervous, as the joke or tease seemed to be becoming real in their imaginations at least.

"What do you think, Dolly?" Jane finally asked me. "Can you imagine being Dolly all the time? Not having to hide your secrets anymore?"

"I... I can barely imagine it, Mistress," I answered with a feeling of raw honesty that surprised me.

"Do you like being dressed up to please me and to amuse and entertain my friends?" Jane prodded.

"I do, Mistress."

"Do you like when men like Ken see you like this and want to give you their attention and arousal?"

"I do, Mistress," I answered, squirming and feeling the plug sealing Master's load inside me.

"Do you enjoy your collar, Dolly? Do you like your piercings and your tattoos?"

"I do, Mistress."

"If you were Dolly all the time, you wouldn't have to hide them," she said, and I could see her mind racing, perhaps as fast as mine was.

"See, lots of doors open when you take that step," Master encouraged.

"How real it is though?" Jane asked. "I mean, dressing up is one thing, but you're talking about drugs and doctors, right?"

"Oh yes, but it's all very doable. There are just people to know. We can talk about it more later. Let's not scare poor Dolly," Master smiled.

It was scary, but I realized that the only thing more frightening than hearing them opening muse about these things really happening was having them discuss them and making plans for me without me knowing.

After a return to lighter, more inconsequential topics, the rest of dinner passed quickly. Once everyone was satisfied, they returned to the living room for a drink while I cleaned up. Given that I hadn't had to cook, clean-up was mercifully simple. I loaded the dishwasher and sorted the packaging into waste and recycling. It felt strange to be carrying full garbage bags into the bins in their garage, dressed how I was, but with every new experience, I was just getting to it.

As much as could be considered possible, the evening progressed normally. Once I was finished cleaning up, I joined the rest of them for conversation and laughter. I kept mostly quiet, wondering if the topic of the plans for my future would come up again, but they didn't. As the hour got later and the wine kept flowing, I began to wonder about getting home. Jane had driven, but seemed in no position to do so now. I could drive, but I had no ID with me at all, so I certainly didn't have my licence with me. Dressed as I was, I did not want to have to explain that if I got pulled over.

Finally, Jennifer seemed to see what I had been seeing as well.

"I think that you are staying the night," she announced. "I'm certainly too drunk to drive, so I assume we all are."

"Oh, I don't want to impose," Jane replied.

"Not at all. We'll just make room for you in our bed," Jennifer said. "You won't mind, will you, babe?"

"The more the merrier," he smiled.

"How about Dolly?" Jane asked.

"The bed is big enough for three, but not four, I'm afraid," Jennifer answered.

"Oh dammit," Jane exclaimed. "We also had something from our shopping today set to be delivered to our house tomorrow morning."

"Dolly can receive it," Jennifer said. "She can head back to your place, stay there, and come pick you up tomorrow."

"I... I don't have my drivers licence with me, Mistress," I added nervously.

"True," she said. "It's not too likely you'd get stopped, but you can never be sure. As much as I'd like to see what you'd try to do to get out of a ticket, it's probably better to be safe."

"Agreed," said Master. "We'll send Dolly home in an Uber."

I hadn't even thought of that possibility, but they settled on it so naturally. I just sat there, mortified once again. Being glanced at by a food delivery driver for a moment was nothing when I now had to face sitting in the back of a stranger's car.

Jane had her phone out before I could say another word, and in moments, a car was on its way. As she stood to find her purse to give me her house keys, she pulled me aside and whispered into my ear.

"Be a good girl. The keys to your shoes are on my dresser. You should get undressed tonight and clean up and sleep in a nightie, but I want you to get dressed again first thing tomorrow -- including these fantastic tits and the wig. There will be nothing to pay for with the delivery, you'll just have to sign."

"Yes, Mistress," I answered.

"Good girl," she giggled, and kissed me on the cheek.

It was dark and quiet outside when the car arrived. Frustratingly, the driver stopped at the curb rather than pulling into the driveway, forcing me to walk down the full length of the driveway in my slutty dress and high heels. I could feel the eyes of the driver on me, but I just hoped he was the only one watching -- other than the three inside who I could see watching me from the living room, laughing.

"For Dolly?" the young man asked as I climbed into the back seat of the compact SUV.

"Yes," I answered, trying to affect a feminine-sounding whisper voice.

I rode in silence, just watching him look back at me in his rear-view mirror over and over. I felt the plug stuffing me. My cock was aching and leaking. The silicone breasts jiggled and bounced with every bump we drove over. It was a kind of mental torment, sitting there, waiting to see if he would say something. Over and over again, I'd watch the back of his head or the framed view of his eyes in the rear-view mirror, then try to avert my gaze or pretend I hadn't been looking when his eyes caught mine.

Finally we arrived and, just as he had done at Master's house, he stopped at the curb.

"Have a good night," he said as I opened the door to exit.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"If I may say," he added, "your legs look great. It's good that you're getting out as the person you want to be."

"Th.. thank you," I stammered.

I closed the door and rushed up the driveway with a vain hope that none of the neighbours would be at their windows at that moment. My cheeks were red, and I hoped that Jane would choose to tip the driver well.

When I closed the front door behind me and locked it, I let out a huge sigh of relief. I made my way upstairs and found the tiny key just where Mistress had said it would be. It felt so good to slip the high heels off and feel carpet under my toes.

I didn't take anything else off right away. I took a long look at myself in the full length mirror in the bedroom first. I could see myself in the face, but the wig and the curves of the cleavage were really changing me. I leaned in close and became convinced that the tingling I'd felt since applying the lipstick wasn't just my imagination. My lips really did look fuller and puffier. I idly wondered how they would look wrapped around Master's cock.

I was feeling exhaustion coming on, so I stripped out of everything that wasn't locked onto me. It took some doing to get the breast forms off, but I managed it in time. The hot water of the shower felt incredible, with suds and lather washing away sweat and makeup and everything else. I stood under the showerhead, just feeling it rinse the day away. It felt wonderful to get the plug out, but also humiliating to feel myself so wide open once it was gone. I washed as best I could around the cage and even touched up my grooming with a razor.

Before the hot water ran out, I rinsed myself off and got out, towelling myself dry and dressing in a satin chemise. It felt incredible against my skin, especially now that my pierced nipples were feeling free air again. I was physically tired, but my mind was still racing, and it felt like I was nowhere near being ready to sleep.

I started to wander through the house, barefoot in my sexy sleepwear. It slowly came to me how long it seemed to have been since I was last alone in the house and left to my own devices. It wasn't that long ago that I would have taken advantage of privacy like this to pull out a couple hidden toys and get online and indulge my kinky fantasies with other strangers in distant darkness.

I felt myself drawn to my office and I sat down and started up my computer. I was feeling a kind of nostalgia as I opened up a browser window and logged in. I didn't really feel tempted to try to seek out the kind of attention I used to from dominant or teasing personalities. I looked at the stream of images being shared and realized that almost any one of them could be me. Master had instructed me to pose and perform for men like the ones here. I'd been sent into public places to suck cock and be fucked. Now, I was living these fantasies, collared and caged. My flesh had been marked and pierced, and I was owned.

It was thrilling and almost too much to believe, and I couldn't even masturbate with the arousal of it all. All that seemed left to do was to idly play with my nipples as I lurked. After a while, I had to stop even that, as it seemed the slightest sensation was making me leak and tingle, and sending my mind down so many erotic pathways. I couldn't understand that even after all that had been done to me and with me and for me, there was still more than my depraved hunger raced towards.

I kept asking myself if I was perhaps destined for this, and for even more, should my wife and Mistress's musings become more than fantasy or teasing. I looked at some of the sissy models in the photos and video clips that others like me were posting. They were stunningly beautiful, with smooth skin and sexy curves. Some had humble little bumps of breasts thanks to their hormone treatment alone, and others had gone even further and boasted impressive and sometimes nearly obscenely large breasts, out on display or bursting from sexy, revealing outfits.

Some had their cocks locked away in increasingly confining cages, and others seemed to want to do nothing more than show off the size and girth of the members they sometimes hid inside their panties. It seemed almost unfair that some of these women could have such amazing cleavage and still have cocks that dwarfed mine on the best of days.

I had to do something with my hands to keep them off of myself, so I found myself typing in the chat room. It started as an introduction and then kept flowing, into a kind of confession. There were messages coming back, replies to things I'd shared, encouragement and amazement, but I let them become just part of the background.

Memories of what I'd been guided to do came back as I shared, and I was leaking anew as my memory placed me back in those situations and predicaments. I could almost feel how it had felt to kneel and fuck myself with a dildo as anonymous men had watched. I remembered the exciting terror of sliding on lingerie and taking photos, giving them over to Master.

There was such vivid clarity to my memory of the mental state and physical sensations of waking up and feeling the collar and the piercings, seeing the tattoo, knowing just how real and permanent this was. I was held now by locks, but also by vows that felt refreshed and complete. Yes, my wife was at another man's house -- a man who happened to have been my Master before -- but I loved her more now that I ever had. There was nothing I wouldn't strive to give her or sacrifice for her pleasure. All my past secrets felt like such a waste of time, but I also knew that they had prepared me to be able to serve her completely now.

Master, and even some of the online dominants that had come before him, had taught me to serve and submit, and had educated me on how obedience could be my pleasure -- a pleasure that was far more intense and enduring than anything physical.

The confession flowed, laying out a kind of timeline of my journey, told in erotic snippets. It was exciting, I realized, to know that I was in that moment contributing to the arousal of men like me, or like I had been. I was confident that right now they were reading about what I'd done and were stroking themselves to those mental images. Just like I had been on Master's live streams, I was once again a kind of porn for perverts like me.

It was to those strangers, in typed words, that I first said out loud that I wanted my Mistress to make my sissification complete. I wanted her to start me on hormones, so that I too could see the changes in my body and appearance, and so that I could start to grow breasts that men would want to grope and squeeze. I wanted her to change my body, so that I would look less and less like a man, and more like the feminized plaything she could use and be amused by, sending me out to pleasure men. I wanted her to completely emasculate me, even if that meant taking my balls, so that my transition could be faster and decisively permanent. I wanted to be like those girls in the photos and beyond. I wanted a life in her sexual service and submission.

The replies of encouragement kept coming, along with those who shared that they were indeed stroking themselves to thoughts of my future. I was throbbing and aching, feeling my cock straining in its cage, oozing with leaking precum. I had no permission to pleasure myself, not even with a toy, so I just thanked the room and signed off. I shut down my computer, tidied up the rooms I walked through, and fell into bed. Thoughts of the soft fabric of my chemise against my skin brought me to sleep.

Interlude

Jane felt different once Dolly had left. She was comfortable, but she still felt outnumbered. She loved Jennifer and trusted her with her life but even so, it felt strange to be in their home this late at night, especially after a day full of sex and play.