Basement Room - His Feminization

Necessary warning - This story contains feminization and some slight dubcon. Do not read further if any of those aren't quite your thing. All characters are 18+. Obviously.

You couldn't quite have expected what was to come. The feeling of your teeth pressing against the gag, the racing heartbeat in your chest, the rising panic. Her nails on your skin. The fact that the only frustration you could possibly express was through a loud gulp as you tried to soothe yourself, and somehow calm your breathing.

Your ragged inhale makes a slight hissing sound as you force it through the holes in the ball gag.

"Shh, love..."

Your wife's voice resonates through the room, and sends shivers up your spine. Her presence comes as a relief, and you wonder whether you were too riled up to have noticed her coming back. You have no clue how long it is she left you there. For all you know, she could have been sitting, watching you wiggle around aimlessly within your binds.

She places a finger on your chest, gently dragging her nail down your sternum. Stopping right above your navel, she lingers for an instant before her touch fades away.

The memory of whatever sweet moment you two had shared just an hour back seems to fade further and further into the background. Her voice is soft, gentle, and yet has an edge of controlled sadism to it that you've never quite heard before.

Your hips buck. An involuntary movement, perhaps. You aren't quite sure. She surely hadn't failed at arousing you, and she did know you well enough to know that the fear she now inspired could only make it stronger. She knows how to arouse you. That much you know.

And as her free hand wraps around your cock, each finger slowly curling snugly around your length, you realize that despite your last willing thrust, even your cock is something you have no control over.

-

She had taken your hand, ever so gently, the usual twinkle in her eyes when she knew you two would be having the time of your lives. It had taken some coaxing - or some coercing, you now wonder? - before she had first slid you into your first set of lingerie. From that point onwards, playing 'dress-up' with you, or turning you into what she'd then call her 'pretty little girlfriend' became one of her favorite pastimes.

And you had grown to love it. So when she demanded a room she promised would fulfill both your deepest fantasies, you could do nothing but agree. The basement became hers. Her little project lasted almost a year, and day by day, the glint of excited thrill in her gaze only grew brighter.

You had attempted to enquire, to somehow find out what all she had in mind, but every time, you were halted by a soft touch on your lips. She'd shush you, smile, and shake her head. Her big, beautiful red lips would curl into the hint of a smirk before forming into a soft pout.

"Come on, love. You don't want to ruin my sweet surprise, do you? You know I only ever want you to feel good. Let me be in charge. Just one weekend. I promise you won't ever regret it."

She would touch you. She would run her perfect long nails down your naked chest.

Your wife very well knew the impact she had on you. And every time, she'd succeed at providing some sort of distraction that left you feeling absolutely breathless.

"Just trust me, love... You know I know what you like."

When put that way, you could only believe it.

She had gently placed the blindfold against your eyes, her body pressing against yours from behind as you let out a soft whimper. She had a way with words. And though you had no idea what she had come up with, you couldn't help but feel a growing sense of excitement at the surprise she had been hinting at all year.

After what seemed like an eternity, you were finally allowed to make your way to the basement.

You had stumbled. She had laughed. The room greeted you with the coldness of tile under your naked soles.

She didn't allow you to take in much of the new stimuli, however, as she grabbed your hand and led you forward.

"Sit."

The tone of her voice took you by surprise. You had somewhat gotten used to the more playful approach she had always taken to things, the promise that you could always step back if you didn't like something, that she wouldn't hesitate to stop and talk about it. Again and again, however many times you may need. It had always been all about you, your comfort. You had always been surprised at how much your wife truly loved pleasing you.

Well. That hadn't quite changed. But there was an odd finality to her voice, one you weren't quite used to hearing. It seemed she didn't think you being the slightest bit resistant could even be a possibility.

You were guided into a chair, one that felt somewhat cold as you leaned back into it. You had attempted, once again, to have her explain, not quite wishing to pull off the blindfold she had so diligently placed upon your eyes. The last thing you could possibly want to do would be offend her, after all. She had put so much effort into what she thought would be your 'dream come true'.

"Alright, sweet thing, you just get comfortable," she cooed, "And don't you dare say a word, hm? Actually. Let me just... Let me make sure of that. I want you to enjoy every single second of this, and you can't possibly do that if you're busy speaking, hm?"

You could almost see her signature little head tilt as she asked you that series of questions, knowing you weren't to respond, and knowing she knew all the answers. She had always found a thrill in demanding some sort of answer when she knew you couldn't speak. It has always made her feel powerful, in a way few things really could.

So she slipped the gag between your lips, its round, soft surface meeting your tongue, and finding its spot snugly between your teeth. It felt comforting, almost, which seemed somewhat odd, but that may just have been the fact that her hand was in your hair as she whispered into your ear.

"Just like that. Isn't that perfect? I just can't have you try to speak when you aren't supposed to, sweet one. And... You're just so sexy when you can't speak..."

Her breath tickled your skin, and you let out a soft moan.

"I'll just make sure you're all snug now, hm? And then I promise you get to see it all. You're going to love this, so, so much."

The next few moments had been a blur. From your legs being propped up, some sort of contraption that held your calves snugly in place, legs spread apart and extended before you, as you laid back in what you assumed was a leather chair. One strap after the other was tightened around your body, one that you already somehow struggled to control, frozen in some mixture of arousal and confusion. You couldn't speak. You knew she didn't want you to and, hell, you knew that bondage could do nothing but make the experience hotter for the both of you. For an instant, you wondered if you had associated the gag with this state of pliable limpness. After all, she had always asked you to lay back and relax, whenever you had your speech restricted. Words she had once said echoed in your mind, "If you can't speak up, you can't fight it. How fun is that, my pretty doll?"

The thought of such a connection gave you the chills.

Once restricted, you heard her walk away. Or rather, the click of her heels grew more and more distant and eventually faded.

For a moment you were left wondering if this was at all a good idea, after all.

-

Now, you no longer have to wonder.

You feel her sliding something over your cock. Soft, slick, albeit slightly rubbery. You attempt to calm down, to focus on what she may be doing. You realize you can't quite fight. Strapped down, blindfolded, gagged. Your senses are deprived, and all you have is the scent of the woman you love, paired with the sound of what now feels like a pending nightmare.

Your cock is your eternal traitor, however. And she doesn't fail to notice.

"Oh, you beautiful thing. Already so hard for me? And I haven't even started... Oh, sweet love. I told you. I told you you'd enjoy this. So, so much. You and I... We are going to have the time we deserve. I've been thinking about this for so long, craving it, dreaming, fantasizing... Hell, do you even know how often I've been touching myself to this?"

A few steps. Your ragged exhale.

The sound of a flicked switch?

Your ears, at the very least, aren't deceiving you. Your suspicions are confirmed as a soft whirr follows the flick. Blindfolded eyes roll back in pleasure as the device tightens on your length, starting a slow, gentle pumping motion.

You don't quite want to let it slip, but a muffled moan escapes your lips. She laughs. Your heart sinks. It wasn't something you could control, even less a display of enthusiasm for her twisted plans, and yet she seems to have interpreted it as one.

"Oh, I know! I bet that feels so good, hm?"

You can't miss the excitement in her voice. She sounds happy. Overjoyed, even. Part of you wishes you would enjoy this as much as she seems to think you do. Another, simply wonders why this intensity wasn't quite spoken about before. She had always been so intent on negotiation, coaxed you into the idea of kink with mentions of safe, sane, and consensual play.

"You did say you'd want to be pleasured forever after all, didn't you, lovely?"

Your breathing quickens, somehow quicker than it was when you first stopped in. Surely she didn't think you truly meant that?

"Well... Let me just let you have a taste of what forever looks like."

She makes her way once again to the back of your chair, and you feel her skilled fingers working at the blindfold she had so carefully tightened earlier on.

"I do like you all clueless, but I can't possibly set up this place and not have you admire how perfect all of it is. I do think you need to see how well I'll be taking care of you, after all."

As your eyes adjust to the light, you take in your surroundings. The first thing you notice is the room's red hue. Warm, colored light anchored into the ceiling, and their reflection on the floor's black tile.

Your eyes darting down, you notice your binds. The position you are in is comfortable. Eerily so, given the nature of the contraption. If you didn't know better, purely from the sensation, you'd have thought you were in some sort of chaise longue, albeit an oddly professional one. The cold leather had not escaped your senses, even blindfolded and on the verge of panic.

It wasn't all that far from that. The backrest was very well akin to that of a lounge chair, after all, but that was only if you attempted to ignore the armrests extending from the side, providing a resting place for your bound arms, and allowing them a semblance of snug respite. Your binds were of leather, like an assortment of thick belts holding you in place, with a golden clasp on each one of them.

The lights from the ceiling shine upon them, sending a slight glimmer of red reflection across your skin.

The straps don't stop at your arms, however. Across your chest, over your stomach, at your hips, your entire body lays punctuated with the leather binds, rendering every movement pointless. Your legs, extended before you, spread, bound, leaving your cock and ass uncomfortably exposed.

Realization upon realization dawns upon you. You can't turn your head and look around, but you can see, right before you, the wall of padded leather with a glint of red. The table, metal legs, and a glass surface, on which lays a collection of toys. You barely have the time to take it all in.

The pump whirrs on. Your eyes dart down once again.

"It's a good one, hm? I only got the very best for you, my sweet one. See..." she starts explaining, as she walks to your side, leaning forward ever so slightly so her breath strokes your skin, "This will make you feel so, so good. The rubber lining inside? That's fitted exactly to your size. Good thing I know you so well, hm?"

She points at the machine. Its slow, regular pumping motion seems to be doing exactly what she'd like it to. Your hips start bucking, once again, ever so slightly under her unwavering gaze as she watches what feels to you like a wicked set-up. You can't quite control pleasure, surely. Some urges are simply more primal than others, and the needy thrusting was something you could do nothing about.

"But, you know, this one is a little different. It's not just... well. It's not all pleasure and lust, although... I know you won't be able to think about anything but being all blissed out soon enough."

You attempt to look to the side, give her a questioning gaze of some sort only to be reminded of the straps. There are none above your neck, and yet, you can feel a slight tug at your cheeks whenever you attempt to look to the side. A little noise of frustration slips from your lips, catching your wife's attention.

"Oh? Is everything okay, lovely thing?"

The concern in her voice is unmistakable. And yet, she doesn't seem all that concerned about your inability to respond.

She does however realize what it is you're so confused about.

"Oh, the straps are attached to your gag, silly. I wanted to make sure you'd be all comfortable, so I made sure the binds wouldn't get in the way of me seeing your pretty face. I've dolled you up so nicely before letting you up here, after all. I always told you. You look so much better as my pretty girl. With your lips pink and pretty, and a little length to those lashes... And there's so much more we can do! Look here!"

She seems to have gotten distracted, taken up in the thrill of her own little monologue. It was all directed towards you, and yet it all somehow felt like a one-woman show, where she was nothing but engrossed in the pride of having achieved all she did.

She plucked from the table a small little box, and rattled it ever so slightly, seeming pleased. She held it up to her face and batted her eyelashes at you.

In the box, you notice a pair of fake eyelashes, just as long, if not even slightly longer than those she had on. And that was quite something. Your wife has always been known for being perfect, insanely dolled-up, like a model brought to life. Conventionally attractive, like a life-sized Barbie, she always took pride in looking like she was freshly off the shelf.

"See... she started, with an almost coy excitement, "I know you've been looking at them before. Every time I put mine on, I see you eyeing them, I see how captivated you are. I know you've been wanting to try so... well. I thought I'd indulge you! I bought you the longest, sleekest, most doll-like pair I could possibly find. And I made sure to get the extra strong kind! They'll never fall off, how fun is that? They'll keep your eyes all pretty, your eyelids nice and heavy so you can only ever look at me through those long, batting lashes. God, you'll look so absolutely gorgeous!"

She makes her way towards you, chatting away as she unboxes them.

"With eyes like that..." she says, a soft groan of pleasure escaping her lips, "Oh, love... I can't promise I'll be able to resist teasing you all day."

She chuckles. You moan. Your cock, still being stimulated, seems to be nearing the edge of an orgasm. Your abdomen tightens, your breathing uneven as you attempt to self-regulate.

"You'll look like the prettiest doll, I promise! I'll do your makeup all pretty, and all you'll be able to do is bat those pretty lashes right up at me."

She is playful. Gentler now, funnily enough, that you start to get more tense, the arousal spreading through your body. The pump never stops, and that's a curse and blessing. Despite the questionable situation, your innermost urges want nothing more than release, and your body acts accordingly. The slight back-and-forth ebb of your hips drives you absolutely insane as you try your best to remain still. You would be motionless if you could, but your body seems to no longer be yours. As long as your disarray entertains her, it feels like your body isn't ever quite meant to stop.

She gently picks the lashes from the box and you watch her slender fingers as she carefully measures them against your eyelids, ensuring they are the perfect length. Her fingers, surprisingly steady, hold a tiny tube of adhesive. You watch in fascination as she applies a thin line along the base of the lashes, her movements graceful and precise.

She remains close to you as she blows on the lashes' edges and for the first time since you entered the room, you get to gaze right up at your gorgeous wife. Her skin is flawless. You can't help but admit to yourself how envious you've always been of it. With a porcelain-like smoothness that seems almost surreal, touches of shimmery make-up highlight the subtle contours of her face. Her eyebrows are meticulously groomed, arched just right to frame her eyes perfectly. One tilts upwards, ever so slightly as she looks down at you, with an almost mock-questioning gaze as she witnesses another one of your fruitless attempts to move. It seems she sees nothing wrong with this entire set-up.

She has a delicate nose, with a subtle upturn at the tip that gives her an air of playful charm. Her eyes, framed by long, luxurious lashes, are of a captivating shade of hazel. Those eyes seem to lock onto yours, as her gaze turns almost predatory.

"Alright, my sweet one. Time to close those beautiful eyes of yours, yes?"

Your eyes flutter close before you can even process her words. You feel her fingers approach your eyelids once more, this time with the lashes attached. The sensation is strange but not unpleasant, not unlike that of a soft feather brushing against your skin.

She's meticulous in her work, adjusting the lashes until they sit just right. Her breath tickles your face as she leans in closer, and the scent of her perfume wafts around you. Sweet orange, fresh, slightly green. A touch of summer blossoms and amber.

Not only does she look like perfection, she somehow also smells like it.

After what feels like an eternity, she steps back, her eyes twinkling with pride. "Open your eyes, love."

You open your eyes, and the room once again comes into focus.

Time and space seem to have halted with her touch on yours, but it now all comes back to you. The whirring, the pump, the snug pressure you feel building as your hips hump the air.

"...god, you do look like a broken slut when you're so needy."

The words make your breath catch in your throat. You gasp, whimper, and look up at her. Her gaze remains on you, and she seems fascinated by every single expression of pleasure you make. Her lips part ever so slightly, the slightest moan from her lips echoing yours.

"Go right ahead, sweet one. You look so good, surely it only makes sense for you to also feel this good? Come on. It's okay. You love this. I love this. This is the best thing that could've possibly happened to us both, isn't it? Look. Look at this room. Look at how well I set it up for you. It's all for you. I just want you to feel good, for me, you beautiful thing."

She slowly inhales, then gently bites her lower lip as she lets out a longing sigh.

"Right here, look at me. Look at how good it makes me feel when you break so sweetly for me. You're going to cum, my sweet thing. You are going to cum and let me see how much of a needy slut you are. See, that's one thing you'll learn. You're just here to be a pretty little sex doll for me. All you are to do is lay back and look so, so pretty. You're so sexy when you can't speak. Not a single word, just those sweet sounds you can't help but make over and over for me. Just let me hear how good you feel, how happy you are that I took care of it all for you. You're never going to have to worry about anything ever again. You've been so good to me, and now it's my turn. I'll have you be exactly what I want you to be and I'll make sure you love it. It's going to feel like sweet, sweet heaven. Every minute, every second, I want you to spend it all drowning in pleasure. You deserve it. You deserve to give in, you deserve to let your mind shut down and to let me do the thinking. All of it. It's all mine, now, I promise. I'll take care of that forever. I just want you to feel good. You're made for this. You're made for this... God, you sound like such a slut. That is so fucking sexy. Go ahead. Now. Now, let me see it. Let me see how good I make you feel. Let me see what a good slut you are. Cum. For me. Now."