The Second War had been raging for over five long years.
My elder sister had brought me up for the past seventeen years, ever since my parents had been killed in a road smash when I was two. I couldn't remember them at all.
Maybe it was something to do with hanging on to her past, when I was mum's little baby, 'cos my sister always wanted me to be Her Baby Girl. But though I was a good little brother in many ways, I drew the line at being dressed in frilly dresses, though my better nature let her clothe me in nappies every night. She would love it if she could gimme so much baby drink at night that I had to pee in the night, and joy of joys in the morning, she'd uncover me soaked!
One frightening night, another raid drove us to the Anderson shelter at the end of our garden. I was glad we didn't have to share one with any neighbors, as my bulky diaper was very obvious under my plastic pantie.
As we were settling in our makeshift bunks, sis suddenly got up, exclaiming she'd forgotten a condom a US soldier had given her. She was secretly hoping he'd be off duty tonight!
After she dashed back to the house to retrieve her essential equipment, the sound of a doodlebug descending had me, and I guess everyone in our street, flat on the ground. It was gonna be very close.
Bang! The earth shook. I heard a scream, and knew it was Big Sis.
I rushed outside, oblivious of another bomb, and found her lying on the garden path.
She held out her arms, and I lifted her carefully into the shelter.
"I'm a goner," she cried in the best movie tradition, "please do one last thing for me, Kev, please. You know what I want."
Yep. How could I refuse a dying request?
I knew the pink babydoll dress and bonnet she had been itching to dress me in all these years. In truth it was about the fourth edition, she'd lovingly made new bigger ones for this growing boy.
All those years of patient waiting were rewarded as I held her hand until she died. She wanted me to promise not to join up. She didn't think I could ever be a soldier. In fact with her dying breath, she admitted that she'd destroyed my call up papers.
Next morning, wardens found us. Big Sis clinging to her pink baba. Her stiff body had me gripped in her clutches. The doctor was summoned. Dr Dick Blenkinsop had examined me last year pronouncing me fit, and was surprised to find me still at home, "hiding" as he unfairly put it, even more shocked by my attire.
After he had escorted me to the police station, using unpleasant words such as deviant and pervert, he told them I was now medically unfit. That would have pleased Big Sis. But if only I had known the life changing effect my simple act of love for her was to have on me!
Dr Blenkinsop was instrumental in my appearing before a lady magistrate who, influenced by the old fashioned doctor, ordered me to be detained until I relented of my attitude.
In court, she had insisted I admit my desire to wear babydoll clothes was utterly wrong. I had vainly tried to convince her that I had been forced into wearing such apparel. She brushed aside my assertions, labeling me as a pervert who had to be kept away from the public until I admitted that dressing up as a little girl was evil.
I admit that perhaps it was my stubbornness that entrenched me in my position that I was no deviant, or maybe deep down, though I was not prepared to admit it to myself, I actually liked the sensuousness of all those satin frills.
"Until you repent, you will be detained at Grimsdyke Mental Hospital," she had decreed, "furthermore, you will wear only that silly sissy dress, or one like it. When you have changed your heart, sentence will be re-examined. Dismiss."
Perhaps the good woman did not foresee that a gaggle of men would find me attractive. It was a men only institution.
On arrival at the grim Victorian mansion, the director interviewed me.
I saw him give a start when I was ushered into his presence.
I sat quietly as he read the court report.
"Why do you like dressing like this?" was his first question, as he surveyed my babydoll dress.
I politely explained I didn't, and how I had only dressed like this for my dying sister.
He grunted. Clearly my word counted for nothing against the magistrate's and the doctor's.
He told me I was free to roam anywhere in the extensive walled grounds. He said he needed to ponder my case.
However instant trouble met me, as a bevy of men began jostling round me.
They were amazed to find a woman in their midst.
I tried valiantly to explain my name was Kev.
But passions were being aroused, I suppose I ought to have been flattered in a way, and I began to be scared when several men began pawing me.
A full scale mob rape I was fearing, when officers broke up the near riot.
The director looked up and down my ruffled clothing.
He was consulting one officer, talking as though I wasn't there.
I cringed when I overheard him say, "the homos are in Number 13, so won't trouble her."
Her! He knows I'm not female, yet he calls me a Her!
To me he said, "Officer Jenkins will take you to Block C, and show you your room. In future, Jenkins or his stand-in, will accompany you to meals or whenever you want to wander outside. Be a Good Girl, and come to me when you want to admit your wrongdoing."
I was smarting with the injustice of it. I stubbornly refused to confess that I was wrong to like dressing as a girl. Did nobody believe that I had only dressed like this out of love for my sister?
My room was really a cell shared with three other inmates. This was immediately reduced to two, as one frail specimen, name of Estrogen, was removed upon my arrival, discharged and allegedly fit enough to be called up. They must be getting desperate, I thought.
Jenkins seemed on very matey terms with the other two.
"'Ere's your new companion," he grinned.
"What they call you?" demanded the burly one belligerently.
"Princess Babydoll," offered Jenkins with a laugh.
"Why you brought her here?" snarled the inmate.
"Well, I thought you could use her," suggested Jenkins, "when you find out." He gave another low laugh.
"Give Babydoll Estrogen's old bed," suggested Jenkins. It wasn't an order, but the burly fellow indicated I take the upper bunk.
"He's Dick," Jenkins introduced the guy, "he's your representative in Block C."
"More like Boss," snapped the other chap who'd been silent up to now.
"I'm in 'ere for ever," Dick stated proudly. I soon learned he had the officers in his pocket. "And this is my right hand man Estella."
"He takes his name from the character in Great Expectations," explained Jenkins. "Well, I'll leave you to get to know each other."
"So, why you in 'ere?" asked Dick, once Jenkins had left.
"Nothing," I answered, but as they both looked disbelievingly, I added, "they want me to confess to something I ain't done."
I wasn't gonna tell them more. I felt I was safer if they thought I was female.
"Okay, Babydoll," said Dick pensively, "you'll do."
I was gonna ask what he meant, but a loud bell rang.
"Supper," explained Dick.
"What now?" I queried. It was only five o'clock.
"Yeah," lights out at 6.30 you know.
Jenkins' second in command Smith took me to the dining hall with Estella. Dick stayed in our room.
"He hardly ever goes round the hospital," Estella told me as the three of us walked down the corridor.
There were about forty inmates in Block C settling down to eat.
As we walked in, wolf whistles echoed round the high ceilinged room.
"Silence!" cried Jenkins, and as the excitement was intensifying, he cracked a whip.
Sudden silence.
But soon the whispering renewed, and I knew intuitively that much of it was about me.
Every now and then, as the noise increased, the whip cracked and sudden hush descended. But not for long.
I was the butt end of several utterly impossible invitations.
"Tonight at 8 in room 7."
"I'll give yer a quid."
"Wanna big boy darlin'?"
I tell you, I was enjoying the attention, though as I couldn't satisfy them, I was also worried.
After eating, several men surrounded us as we walked back to the room.
I began to appeciate why I had been assigned a guardian.
"Wanna washroom?" Smith asked.
I was glad. I said I had to get my washbag, then I was locked into a cubicle with washbasin and toilet. Smith said he knew a girl wouldn't want the urinals, and he was right, though not for the reason he thought. It gave me the opportunity to shave, I knew I needed to do this to keep up my pretence.
Then a few minutes after half six, Smith told me to hurry, as we had to be in our rooms.
I found Dick already tucked into his large single bed, and Estella in the lower bunk. I bid them goodnight and climbed up to my lofty perch.
"You gotta sleep in that dress?" asked Dick.
I explained it was the only one I had.
"Well, I'll get my mates to make yer some more sissy dresses," he offered.
"Thanks," I smiled, uncertain the cause of this generosity.
"Wanna join us?" it was Estella, jumping from his bed and shifting over to Dick's bed. "I play Girl usually, but you're the real thing...!"
"Aw, don't tease her," snapped Dick, "she ain't got anything to interest me."
The two men kissed and I was left as an onlooker, a sometimes fascinated onlooker, as their passion increased and eventually Dick mounted his 'Girl' and with a huge groan pentrated Estella's back passage.
The two men heaved and heaved, until I heard a loud cry as Dick exploded and Estella breathed a gasp of appreciation.
Then they dived under the blankets so I could see no more, but I heard plenty for the next few hours. No wonder we had early lights out!
It was after ten I guess, before Estella went to pee in the bucket in the corner and returned to his own bed. I saw Dick produce his limp dick and pee there too. That was one thing I didn't dare do.
"Not going Babydoll?" teased Dick.
I answered that I didn't need to. Not entirely truthfully.
"Okay, but you ain't allowed outer bed- we don't wanna be disturbed till morning."
I awoke in the early hours. I had to get up.
But what would Dick say, and more importantly do, if I disturbed him?
From what the men had said in the dining hall, I gathered he was held in awe if not fear. He had officers in his power, and men on the outside supplying him with every luxury that any inmate required.
I decided I'd rather wet myself.
I let out as little as I could on the bedsheet. But more oozed out and a little too late I realized that peeing in the middle of the bed was gonna make things mighty uncomfortable for the rest of the night. As long as it doesn't drip thru on to Estella's sleeping form!
I spent a restless few hours, dreams of men raping me and Dick exploiting my womanhood kept me on edge. When I next woke, I had to let a little out, and it soaked my pink satin pantie. As I sat up, I found my dress had been soiled in a couple of patches, where I had lain in my wee.
The rising bell clanged at 6.30 and Smith ensured we were all awake. I retired to my cubicle, which only officers otherwise used, making myself as presentable as possible.
It was good enough to turn many of the unsatisfied men on at breakfast. I received more kind invitations, highly flattering if impracticable. I gave up walking the attractive gardens with Smith after more catcalls and whistles, and retired to my room.
I was surprised to find it empty.
I looked at Smith.
"Oh he's out today."
I was puzzled. It did not tally with what Estella had told me. But I was pleased to be alone, in peace. When Dick returned before supper time, I learned that 'out' meant out of the hospital, "to sort a few people out." Since you could only go out under special licence from Grimsdyke, I was puzzled, particularly since he was classed as Category A, 'highly dangerous to the public.'
"'Ere, I've brought yer some dresses," he said, chucking a brown paper parcel up to my bunk.
I expressed my thanks. There were four satin dresses in the same sissy style as mine, one pink, one lilac, one lemon, one turquoise. Bonnets and panties to match.
"I checked your size," Dick added, "they'll fit you a treat!"
"But why?" I interjected.
"My pleasure," he replied, enigmatically.
"I'll try one on now, "I said, then realizing what he might see, and rang my bell, and Jenkins materialized a few minutes later. "Which color you like me in?" I asked Dick before I was escorted to my cubicle.
Fifteen minutes later I was showing off my turquoise creation.
"Fine," he said none too enthusiastically. That reaction disappointed me. But I suppose girls don't switch him on.
However the men in the dining hall were switched on all right, as I arrived with Jenkins ten minutes after the meal had begun. I was beginning to like being the pin up of the hospital.
It was almost frustrating not to be able to satisfy the lusting inmates.
"I'm Dobson," one large man leered at me over my pudding.
"I've drawn you first."
This was so much Double Dutch to me
I tried to get him to explain, but he only winked.
"Tomorrow night," he finished, leaving me wondering what on earth he was on about. Probably a genuine nutcase, I decided.
I was beginning to be turned on by the second night of watching Dick playing with his 'Girl.'
I wished I had a girl to play with, a real girl I mean. I again refused Estella's invitation, but I was bold enough when the time came to turn in, to use the bucket.
Ladylike, I crouched, after they had deposited their offerings.
They were uninterested in me, but I knew I mustn't stand and pee, so with my back to them, I cautiously pulled down my turqoise pantie and, as my Big Sis used to say, "let it all out."
Thus I had a much less disturbed sleep, though had I known what was in store, I doubt whether I would have slept even one wink.
The most extraordinary day in my life began with a surprise.
"'Ere you are darlin'," I was awoken by Dick, who had climbed up to my bunk and was leaning over me, thrusting a small bag under my nose, "it's for yer. Make yourself pretty, eh?"
I unzipped the bag, "thanks," I grunted automatically.
As he climbed down I found the bag contained lipstick, eyeshadow, rouge, and other feminine accessories.
Estella was next up my ladder, offering me a pair of long earrings.
"Dem's to tart yourself up," he explained unnecessarily.
I didn't really want any of these offerings, but I did not want to appear ungrateful, nor, more importantly, did I want to upset them.
When I made my entrance into the dining hall, shaved and decked out in my new finery, and my new lemon colored sissy dress, applause rippled round the room.
That was highly gratifying, though some of the catcalls were more of an embarrassment.
Jenkins looked the cat's whiskers when he took my arm for a stroll round the grounds.
"I-I hope you don't mind, miss, "he stuttered, producing a gift wrapped parcel, "but Dick said it would be an improvement."
He watched me closely as I undid the string. It was a blonde wig!
Jenkins was mumbling something about it making me more ladylike, I think tart-like would be nearer the mark.
But I reflected that this would indeed improve my attractiveness.
So far, I only wore my bonnet at night, as a kind of nightcap. During the day my black male hair, though not short, was not the most feminine. This wig made me look every inch a woman!
Jenkins was still mumbling. "It suits yer, miss."
I expressed my appreciation with a peck on his cheeks. It seemed the correct thing to do. He blushed.
I think it was after that, that I felt every inch a woman, and in my walk, I tossed the frills of my sissy dress, flaunting myself, teasing the many admirers who were gaping at us as we sauntered along the path.
"I'm tired now," I advised Jenkins, very much in the manner of a princess ordering her minion. "You may take me to my room. I'll wear my wig later." I handed the present casually back to him.
"I think, er, perhaps some more fresh air would be good for yer," Jenkins dared to suggest.
I frowned at him, withering him on the spot.
I turned, and he had to follow.
His obvious anxiety to keep me from my rest was soon explained.
It was my next shock.
Two workmen had fixed a curtain rail round my bunk. Two others were industriously sewing what I took to be curtains, bright pink curtains. Dick was directing operations.
He looked daggers at Jenkins as we entered.
However he forced a smile at me.
"I was hoping we'd have finished before you came back." He was almost blushing.
I'd given up questioning why he was arranging all this for me. As a new princess, I convinced myself that I deserved all this pampering.
"We'll be finished in half an hour, come back then, eh?" Dick offered.
I graciously waved my hand, and took the present Jenkins had re-wrapped.
"Do you like this?" I half shouted, donning my blonde wig.
"The men'll love it," was his answer. Not the reply I had expected, but I told myself that women weren't his scene.
An hour later, I was making myself at home in my plush new bed, black satin sheets, encased by the pink curtains as if a mini four poster bunk. Even the steps of the ladder up to my abode were wrapped in pink. Only my headboard I didn't much care for. It was bright pink but had pictures of near naked film stars plastered over it.
But as I lay down, I could not see such pictures, though I admit that in my former life as a mere man, I would have found them stimulating.
My lunch had been brought up for me. Apparently I was to be treated to taking meals in bed! I was indeed a Princess.
After such exertion, one needed one's beauty sleep.
I was awoken from my dreams by Dick.
"We're ready now, miss."
My day of surprises was to continue. This was a shock, perhaps I shouldn't have accepted all Dick's gifts at face value.
"All the best, miss."
Dick's steps were heard retreating down my pink ladder.
Immediately fast steps ascended, a face emerged thru the two folds in the pink curtains.
It was the burly guy who told me he was called Dobson.
"Hi miss!"
He pushed thru into my kingdom.
He was wearing a T shirt and the shortest of shorts which immodestly hid nothing of his erection.
"I told you I was the first," he reminded me. "You're pretty, miss," he added as he pushed in aside me, making the bunk creak. His close proximity made me aware of the gin on his breath.
"I must ask you to leave at once," I said with all the dignity I could muster. Like a flash, I understood why I was being treated like a princess.
"Oh, playing hard to get, eh?" Dobson exclaimed. "I like a feisty one!" He was lifting my frilly lemon dress as he kissed me on the lips.
"You want me don't you, princess?"
I was about to tell him no, when I recoiled as far as the bed would permit. He was touching my dick!
I admit, it wasn't exactly limp.
It was his turn to recoil.
I don't remember the exact sequence, but I do know he was down those steps with the same alacrity that he had ascended only minutes earlier.
He was remonstrating with Dick, who somehow calmed the angry Dobson down.
There was a long silence.
Then I heard Estella consulting with Dick.
"Okay, you stay here," I heard Dick tell Estella, before leaving our room. The door slammed loudly.
I waited, frightened. All was quiet. I could hear Estella quietly doing something, but I didn't dare peep from behind the safety of my little home. I knew I had angered them, and my best cue was to be as meek and contrite as I could.
I heard Estella step over to my bunk. He was climbing the steps. He peered in, I was lying on my bunk meekly. I don't know why, but I stuck my thumb in my mouth, I felt it emphasised my submission.
"Who's a naughty little baby girl then?" teased Estella. "Who likes dressing up in girly clothes pretending she's a girl, when all the time she's one of us?"
I looked coy.
"Dick is having to patch it up. We did have quite a queue wanting to take our little princess."
His jibes were interrupted by Dick who shouted angrily, "come down. I think it's all sorted!"
The two men whispered, I straining to catch anything of their conversation.
However I was in the dark, as steps climbed up to my home.
It was Dick.
"Well, yer certainly fooled all of us," his voice was near a snarl, but softened as he continued, "but yer certainly looked a sweet little girl! I guess some of the lads were too darn desperate for a woman. Is that why yer're in here?"
I explained about Big Sis, and did confess I enjoyed all the attentions I'd received. He was honest in return, telling me he had seen me as another of his nest eggs. The men had paid him their allowance, in some cases their whole weekly allowance, to have sex with me!
He explained some of them were still keen, as I looked so sissy and feminine. The desperate ones were prepared to imagine I really was the girl I looked. After all, Dick added, it's what some of them pretend each night anyway.
So my fate was sealed.
It was beyond me to question Dick, I dared not cross him, and I believe he appreciated the utter submission I had decided was my only salvation.
Besides, I knew I wanted to keep those dresses he'd produced from somewhere, and enjoy the pampering of all those inmates, and he promised me there were many, who would continue to regard me as a princess.
"Well done, Babydoll," he concluded. "If yer do well, I'll give yer any reward yer care to name!"
I smiled, already turning over in my mind what rewards he could possibly give me. But I knew he had the run of the place, so I imagined I could ask him for nearly anything.
"One last thing," he said, "yer're one of Us." He uttered the 'Us' with emphasis.
He undid his buttons and produced his limp dick.
"You can begin by servicing me. You know about me and Estella, you're what they call a slut, dressed like that, suck me off you sissy!"
He thrust his little dick towards my mouth.
He nodded as I looked at him. He was expecting obedience.
If I hesitated, it was only a second. I didn't want his cock. My pleasure has always been with girls, but what choice had I?
I pushed my head forward and enclosed the flaccid object in my mouth. He grunted and begin to stiffen. I sucked the object and he groaned some more, and for five minutes I found myself getting used to a new experience, a new taste of dick, then as he stiffened fully, he pulled out and sprayed my face. Some of his cum I licked with my tongue.
"I like that," he laughed, "swallow it."
I obeyed.
"Well, you've obviously never done that before, but not bad, not bad for a beginner. You'll improve. Now understand this," he said more seriously and firmly, "that opening is for me only. All the others must use your other opening."
He pointed, though this was strictly not necessary.
I nodded understandingly. It hadn't been half bad actually, and I dearly wanted to please him. I knew what favor I would ask. But now wasn't the time for such a request.
I moved my hand to my face.
"No don't wipe it off," he said, snatching my hand away. "let them see you're a sissy slut. That's what the guys want!"
He descended the steps.
I waited. Was now the time to see the director and confess? No, I reaffirmed to myself that I had done nothing wrong. Besides, I definitely liked the idea of being treated as a sissy girl. Even a sissy slut.
Minutes later, the first face peered cautiously into my little home.
I didn't know him, but he recognised me.
"You're pretty," he began.
I beckoned him enter with my little finger. I was mistress here!
"You may kiss me," I offered graciously.
He did and I submissively took in his tongue where shortly before had been dick. Some of the old cum stuck between my face and his. Though I was acting the girl, I was also controling the lovemaking.
I moved back. His face had drips of cum which he was gonna wipe off.
"No, leave that, it'll remind you I'm a slut."
"A princess of a slut," he added.
"Yeah, that's right, "I laughed, "Princess Slut, that's me! You may take me now," this was a command.
I got up from my reclining position and crouched facing those semi naked photos.
"Come on big boy!"
A drop of the old cum fell from my cheeks on to my pillow as he lifted my frilly dress.
He pushed to one side my yellow satin pantie, and I gasped as I crouched doggy style and felt him pushing in. I was glad I had applied that lube thoughtfully enclosed for a different usage in my bag.
He was in and pumping. This was fun!
As he straddled me heavily, he felt for my breasts. At least I had nipples and in this position, there was a semblance of boobs hanging down.
He was soon panting and I knew he was ready.
"Yeaahhhh!" he yelled, as my passage filled with his gift.
"Thanks!" he cried, pulling out.
But I surprised him by insisting we had not yet finished.
I shoved his face beneath my passage and tipped his cum over his face.
"There, you're a slut too," I laughed.
Turning round I kissed him, thus transferring much of his cum to my face. Indeed I wiped my face round his, to make myself as slutty as I could.
"Great!" he cried, and departed.
By supper, I had serviced two more. After lights out, four men surreptiously crept in for my attention. Not all appreciated my failure to provide their dicks with a vagina, but nearly all liked my final touch with cum over our faces.
"Not bad," exclaimed Dick, as he told me enough was enough for today.
"I'm Princess Slut," I informed him.
"Yeah, the whole hospital knows that by now. We have a queue of 'em wanting, and some of today's lot want to come back!"
Now seemed my opportunity.
"You said I could ask for anything," I said in a pleading voice, "may I?"
"Of course Princess, ask away!"
"Can you get me out of here?"
A long pause as my request was digested.
I had thought long and hard. Though, as I have said, this was fun, I was still scared of Dick, if things went wrong, and most of all I wanted my freedom. Could he give me that?
"Okay Princess, I'll guarantee yer release on one condition."
"Can you really guarantee it?" I questioned eagerly.
"Oh yeah, I can pull strings, easy, no problem. I could get out myself with a little wangling, but it suits me better to conduct my businesses from inside 'ere," he laughed. "So, yes, I guarantee it, but only if you can provide 75% client satisfaction."
"How d'you mean?"
"Well during the next week, we ask all those who take yer to inform us, yes they enjoyed it, or no, it wasn't as good as they hoped."
After today's experience, there was no contest.
"Okay," I agreed.
It was a memorable week. By the end I was tired. 60 clients. 60 loads of cums. Sixty satisfied customers, I hoped.
Each of them had left his comment on a sheet in the room.
Remarks included, 'wot a gurl,' 'grate sex,' 'my sissy qeen.' A column showed those who had ticked it, meaning they enjoyed themselves numbered 41. One person had the cheek to put an X meaning No, the other 18 had put a nought, meaning it hadn't been as good as they had expected.
"That's just under 70%," Dick told me, and after doing my sums I had to concur.
"But they all pumped me with their cum," I protested, "I honestly don't believe any of them went away unsatisfied."
My complaints went on, to no avail. Facts are facts as Dick said.
I decided that the wording should have been a straightforward Yes or No. I was sure most of them enjoyed it, even if they also my have believed it not as good as expected.
But Dick insisted our bargain could not be changed, so I resolved to make sure client satisfaction was my number one priority.
By the end of week 2, I had entertained another 72 of them, some coming from the first week for a second helping, surely a sign they were being satisfied.
With every one, I had begun by asking what would please them most for me to do. Then I tried to please, though the four ready wits who asked for my pussy could not be satisfied.
But I was confident success would be mine.
We counted 56 ticks.
"That's over 75%!"I cried in triumph.
"Yeah, but not quite enough. I'm sorry," Dick said quietly.
"It is. We agreed three quarters," I retorted.
"Yeah but you've not reached that as yet," Dick pointed out.
"What d'you mean?" I shouted angrily.
"Well you have 97 satisfied customers. That's out of 132.
That's just short of 75%!"
I said I refused to do any more for Dick. It was unfair.
He silently took me at my word and my status as a princess was scrapped. No meals in bed. No presents. Angry glances from many of the men.
After a day like this, the hostile atmosphere was unbearable.
"I don't know what you've done," Jenkins told me that evening, "but try and put it right before we have a riot!"
I guessed he knew really, he was only acting as Dick's mouthpiece.
However when I turned in, the broken glass in my bed caused me some nasty cuts, as it was too dark to spot it.
A deputation in the middle of the night brought me to my senses. For the first time, I realized why some of them were in here, they were completely mad, beyond reasoning. If I hadn't agreed, my safety could not be guaranteed.
Yet I felt Dick's guarantee was all but worthless.
How could be manipulate my release?
Was he really 'in' with the director?
Next day smiling faces were everywhere. I satisfied the men, and was satisfied.
But at the end of the week the count came in. 84 clients, 51 expressing themselves satisfied.
"But how come the percentage is down?" I queried, examining Dick's chart.
The answer was apparent. Eighteen clients on the day I was on strike had stated they did not enjoy it.
"But that's not fair!" I told Dick.
It was the same for the next few weeks.
I was sure he was fiddling the comments, to ensure his lucrative business did not have to end.
After two months like this, I complained loud and long.
I knew I was never gonna reach that target.
Dick came up with a suggestion.
For a figure of 50% satisfaction, he would help me get out of here, but not with the director's pardon.
I did not quite comprehend his meaning.
"Escape, is what I can arrange," he explained, "on conditions."
"What conditions?" I asked suspiciously.
"Just two," Dick answered simply. "if I get yer out of here, yer must stay with and work for Norma."
"Who's Norma?"
"She works for me too. She runs my hotel."
That sounded an improvement on Grimsdyke, which was beginning to wear very thin on me, despite the pleasure of being treated as a princess, for I was tired of the familiarity some men showed me.
"How long for?" I asked.
"That's my second condition, one month," Dick answered promptly, "then yer'll be free to leave."
"What other conditions?"
"None"
It was agreed.
My farewell to Grimsdyke came on the first day of 1945.
My 'escape' wasn't like in any of those prison movies.
Jenkins even showed me out of the back door where Norma's assistant Jack was waiting. No sirens announced my escape, we calmly swept away in Jack's jeep, him, me and my Princess's wardrobe.
It was in my mind to elude Jack, but he seemed ready for any such move, and in half an hour we had reached Norma's.
A sign in red, flashing Norma's, told me we had arrived.
Manageress Norma greeted me. My first impression was that she was a second edition of Big Sis.
She didn't resemble her in looks, for Norma was tall, lithe, and willowy, almost unfeminine. If she had cropped her auburn hair even shorter she would have passed as a man. Come to think of it, she must have been one of those young girls of ten or twenty years back, who wore male suits and slicked down their short hair.
However it was in her attitude to me, that she reminded me so very much of Big Sis.
"So you are Princess Slut," was her greeting, "I like my girls to look as sissy as you do."
That was my first blow.
I don't know what I had been expecting to do in this hotel, but I soon learned it was to be "more of the same."
I didn't exactly object, not that it would have served much purpose, for Norma was every bit as domineering as Big Sis and Dick.
"I'll show you to your quarters," she added after we had sized each other up.
"It's until the end of this month?" I asked.
"Yep, you're booked in until the first of February. Here's your room. It was Susan's."
She showed me into a room much plusher than any at Grinsdyke, a distinct improvement. Dark red decor was overpowering indeed most everything except the washbasin was in maroon or red. Susan must have been some girl.
"Why did she leave?"
"Oh, it's a shame, A GI lured her away with some promises. I expect she's regretting it already. Anyhow, make yourself at home. Afternoon tea is at five. Your first client is booked for eight."
My scheme to slip out unnoticed to freedom was forestalled when I came downstairs at five pm. The doors were all locked. I learned it was to keep out unwanted visitors, but it seemed to me that it also acted as a disincentive for employees like me to get out.
I decided to wait until night to get away, perhaps via a window, though the ground floor ones all had bars.
I met the other girls who worked here, all nine of them, all I have to say more attractive than me. Compared with the hospital, I was one among many, and perhaps not the chief attraction. Good job I won't be here long, I reflected.
No other men worked here, all the girls were my age, early twenties or slightly younger. Norma told me she had agreed with Dick's suggestion that some of their clientele would "go for" a slutty princess like me.
Norma showed me back to my room.
Did she suspect I might be planning a bunk? She was looking round furtively for reasons I could not fathom otherwise.
"Right, make yourself pretty. I like to inspect my girls before they start work, so I'll look in again before eight. You've got two GIs tonight, they're our best clients, you'll find them generous if you please them, and then a lady from Ditcham Hall, Lady Ditcham. She's a widow, and is very pleased we now have a male hooker here. Shall I help you dress?" she finished abruptly.
I hesitated. I felt I was gonna let her down by sneaking off, so the least I could do was let her down lightly.
Norma began to make me more attractive. As she painted my nails, which I found very pleasant, I began to feel like a pampered princess once more.
"Can I kiss you?" she asked suddenly.
I could see she was trembling. This wasn't an order, but a request.
Her furtive manner was now explained. She fancied me!
Racing thru my mind rushed a thousand thoughts. She wasn't like Dick whose word was law, but dare I refuse her?
Then flashed a brilliant inspiration. Since I was leaving shortly, I said,
"Later, please. You want me at my best for our clients don't you?"
"Oh, I suppose so, I'll come back at midnight, eh?"
I decided to do my bunk about 11.45.
"Er, okay."
"There, you'll do," she exclaimed, putting down the nail varnish. "I'm sure they'll love you. I'll look in just before GI Joe comes up to you..."
My plans were made. I was on the first floor, but I reckoned a careful jump from my window would see me out of here safely.
Norma peeped in. "Good luck," she smiled, "oh, you might like the evening paper as you're in it! See you later," she gave me a wink.
The bottom quarter of the front page had my photo. Not that anyone would recognise me now. They must be short of news, I thought, surely some latest battle victory in the war deserved more space than little me. However it made me swell with importance. I hadn't time to read the report however, for in strode Joe.
"Hi, baby, you new here?"
In no time we were kissing, and mindful of the advice, I tried my best. He knew I wasn't a girl, but said he loved my "cute looks."
I used all my experience gleaned at Grimsdyke to tease him before letting him penetrate first my anus, then what was sacred once to Dick, my mouth.
"Gee, you take it well baby!" he was enjoying himself, you ready for me?"
I nodded, the movement exciting him yet more.
"Where you want it?" he asked.
I pulled out and shouted eagerly, "wherever you like big boy!"
He sprayed my face, my open mouth gorging some of his thick offering.
I kissed him, letting his face become all sticky with his cum.
"Nylons any good for you?" he asked gently before he left.
I whispered my thanks.
Of course that was a tip. His fee he'd paid to Norma earlier.
If the clients fill out an appraisal, while Joe would surely have given me top marks, I doubt whether GI Number 2 would have. I did abysmally. It wasn't his fault. I suppose it was I who was to blame, because I'd read that article while waiting for my second client.
I hadn't been bothered about the newspaper, rather the opposite as I said, it made me feel very important.
But when I read it, I felt simply awful.
The story warned that I was dangerous, Dr Blenkinsop advised all women to keep clear of me if they saw me.
His absurd hysteria was not what worried me, and my photo nobody could recognise now, but the report was incomplete, turn to page 7 it told readers.
There on page 7 were details of my stay at Grimsdyke, "nearly caused several riots, "unrepentant crossdresser, were two phrases that leaped to my eye. An artist had drawn a sketch of what I might look like now, and as they had knowledge of my wig, it was not a bad likeness.
The truth suddenly dawned that I would hardly be safe if I left here, for evidently tracker dogs were searching this very hour. That's what the paper said.
So I had every excuse not to perform well for my client.
Word evidently reached Norma, for she looked in before my final client was due.
She said she understood I had good reason to be scared.
But she promised to fetch me a different colored wig, nice and frizzy she suggested, and handed me some sunglasses.
"It looks odd, I know," she said, "but it'll help disguise yourself even to our clients."
"Thanks," I muttered.
I was feeling somewhat cheered by the knowledge that Norma was prepared to protect me from the law. Thus when Lady Ditcham materialized, I was of a much sunnier disposition, eager to please her, and for the first time for a while, also to please myself. The last sex I'd enjoyed with a woman was weeks before all this ever started. How had I ever got I into this? Ah well, I knew the answer, what I really wanted to know was how to get out of it?
I smiled at the honourable lady, who was, the old fashioned phrase is, of uncertain age, possibly in her forties was my guess. I laughed unintentionally.
"I am sorry, your ladyship," I stood up and bowed humbly.
"Oh not at all, my pretty little one. Tell me why did you laugh?"
"It wasn't at you," I amended, taking her hand, "it's just that I was thinking whether I should call you, My Honorable Lady."
"Oh," she grunted suspiciously.
"You see, I think it's more a case tonight of your being a teeny bit dishonourable!"
She laughed. I was glad of that. The ice was broken.
Like most women, she enjoyed chatting as a foreplay, asking me why I liked dressing as a sissy girl, complimenting me on how attractive I looked, and remarking frequently how sweet I was.
After a while, I understood. She was nervous, chattering away to hide her discomfort.
I tried to make her feel even more welcome. First taking her hand, then cuddling close, finally a little kiss.
But though she clearly responded, she kept on talking, asking, chatting, until I finally said,
"I think we should do it, shouldn't we?"
She beamed.
"Please," she was almost begging.
I gently pushed her back on the bed and while I kept on my sissy attire at her own request, I stripped her slowly, admiringly.
Her body was no Betty Grable's, but I wanted her to be satisfied, and I was very keen to satisfy myself too. After such a long time away from my own sexual pleasure, I was throbbing with enthusiasm, and she knew it when she saw me produce my dick from my soft pantie.
"It's been a long time," she sighed, echoing my own sentiment, as she fondled my six inch beauty....
"How would you like it my honourable lady?"
She laughed at that.
"You do it how YOU want, " she smiled, "I like you very much."
I looked down, indicating my preference, indeed my desire.
"Condom?" I asked breaking the mood.
She shook her head. "I'm probably past that sort of thing," she grinned. "Anyway, I wanna feel you properly and act thoroughly dishonourably with you!"
It was my turn to laugh.
As I teased her pussy, she began giggling and suddenly it was she who was in charge.
She masturbated me, my tip caressing her clit, she screaming pleasure, I would have also except I didn't want her to know the overpowering orgasm I was experiencing.
With a thrust, she pushed me hard in, to a yelp of pain and pleasure and writhed in delirium as I pushed right up her passage.
As she lay back wantonly, muttering "dishonourable" and laughing, I joyfully exploded and pumped her womb full of my foaming cum.
"Mmm, you lovely sissy slut," she was high now. "Thank you, thank you. "
She slapped my backside playfully and started masturbating my limp dick.
I fell off the bed as she pursued me, crawling after me as I tried to avoid her over-enthusiastic pursuit. She'd had her fill, literally, hadn't she?
Thus Norma found us, me cornered by the window, Lady Ditcham on all fours dripping cum on the red carpet, chasing me avidly.
I think we all laughed once we had calmed down.
Lady Ditcham expressed her appreciation, and said she'd recommend me to a few friends, discreetly of course.
It was 11.45, half an hour after her ladyship's departure.
I was at a crossroads. I craved my freedom, yet it was an uncertain freedom out there. If I stayed, I'd have to face up to Norma's clear lusting for me. Poor old girl, I thought, she's probably a frustrated spinster like her ladyship.
In came Norma, she had changed from her manageress's uniform, and was almost exactly how I had expected, and described to you, pinstriped suit, white shirt and smart bow tie, Brylcream plastered on her hair, a man's man.
I knew what she wanted, but I played what I hoped was my ace card.
"Wow, you look great Norma. But that Hilda Ditcham has knackered me, I really can't tonight."
Her face dropped.
She kicked off her shoes and got into bed aside me.
"Then I'll wait until morning, darling!"
"Wow, will you really?" I tried to sound enthusiastic. She snuggled up close and pulled up the sheets.
"You sleeping like that?" I queried affecting a yawn.
"I often do," she remarked, "it will remind you of who's the boss!"
I understood the veiled message, and decided the best to say was, "I'll look forward to tomorrow."
With that I turned over, my back to her. I hoped that would give her my message.
But she snuggled up to my back, and made cooing sounds about how sweet I looked and how I was her special little girlie.
I made vague appreciatory murmurs, while racking my mind whether I should stay in this hotel, or risk it and leg it away before she woke up.
She was fondling under my dress now, and obviously trying to excite me. I feigned sleep and I think she must eventually have left off, though when I awoke in the early hours, my satin pantie was round my knees.
"I'm sorry Norma,"
I had devised this new dodge.
She had stirred from slumber to find me being sick. The fact that I had made myself sick on purpose, I didn't tell her.
She insisted on calling a doctor, though I insisted I didn't want one.
The upshot was that the doctor gave me an injection, even though I hardly had need of one.
"You needn't see any clients today," Norma advised.
It was a trifle awkward, because I needed to earn my keep, but if I said I was better, Norma would be expecting me to fulfil her lust.
"Perhaps I could just about manage one," I offered.
"Okay," she agreed, "I'll postpone your others today."
"Miss Dawson will be ready for you at eight o'clock," Norma informed me before afternoon tea, "you still feel up to one client?"
"Er yes, I'll try," I said, "and thank you for being so understanding. I don't think I'll be up to any more. But," I added generously, "you can sleep in here like last night if you want."
I hoped that made the position clear. I didn't want to cross my boss, but she was too utterly like Big Sis to make me feel any sexual desire towards her.
I chatted with a couple of the call girls over tea. Shirley was an attractive blonde, her hair like my old wig. Vivien was more petite with flaming red hair. I fancied them myself, and they cannot have had any idea that I could possibly be the man escaped from the mental hospital.
With those dark glasses and the new outfit I had been given, I decided that nobody out there could recognize me, so I'd make my exit tonight.
I put on a new frizzy ginger wig, I'd also accepted from Norma a very sissy dress in real silk, adorned with numerous multicolored flowers. I would look conspicuous, but I had borrowed an overcoat I had found in the foyer, and I was looking forward to wallowing in my freedom at long last.
My plan was to make my departure before my client Miss Dawson turned up, but I had forgotten about our manageress checking up to see her girls looked the part.
I had been about to take out the overcoat I had concealed under my bed, when in Norma walked.
I got up smartly.
"You okay?" she asked, puzzled by my occupation under the bed.
"Oh yea thanks, Norma, just er..."
"Well, I have bought Shirley in," she beckoned and Shirley appeared, "She's my asisstant, and as you've not been too well, I've asked her to make sure you are feeling up to it tonight."
This seemed odd, a bit late to do this, and most inconvenient for me!
I stuttered something about Shirley needn't worry cos I was much better, but Norma asserted all the dominance I used to see in Big Sis, and I was left deflated.
Ah well, I can always entertain this Dawson girl, and nip away afterwards. Yea, that might be quite pleasant.
Norma left us.
"You're pwetty," Shirley said, sitting aside me on my bed.
"Thanks. I like your dress too, did you make it yourself?"
"Oh yeth, but I like yours more!"
She likes being a sissy too.
"You worked here long? I bet you're the most popular attraction here!"
"Tanks. Look Pwincess," she whispered eyeing me nervously, "dey say you're not weally a girl. Is dat twue?"
I pulled her hand under my dress.
"Does that answer your question?" She was giggling.
I kissed her. Maybe I could fit her in before I left....?
I never found out if that were possible.
Norma returned.
I was waiting for Miss Dawson.
Norma had given me a frozen glare of disapproval, and Shirley had been kicked out of my room unceremoniously. I had begged Norma not to be too hard, it had been my fault, I admitted.
My client was not here yet. Five minutes, ten minutes late. Oh well, she was paying, so what did it matter to me?
At last the door opened.
It was Norma!
In her Man's Man outfit, with the I'm Out For The Kill Look.
I was thinking up possible excuses as she strode towards my reclining form.
"I'm Miss Dawson," she announced, "and you're my sweet little sissy girl. Are you gonna be a good little girlie for me tonight, darling?"
I shook my head slowly.
"You'd better, or my Princess Slut will be punished. Badly punished."
As I didn't answer, my brain hopelessly still seeking a way out, she dipped into her inside suit pocket, and uncoiled a whip. It looked like the double of Jenkins's one.
Crack!
She didn't wait to see if its mere appearance would subjugate me, she cracked it painfully across my bare legs.
I yelled as she inflicted a second crack.
I tried to get up, but she was amazingly powerful for such a wiry woman.
She pushed me down and flayed the whip across my face.
Smarting from the sting, I yelled, "stop, oh please stop, Norma."
"Call me Master."
"Right, only stop that."
I tried once more to sit up. She pushed me back.
"Well?"
I slowly put my thumb to my mouth, and bowed my head.
Anything was better than her fury. I decided that technically she would be paying for this, so I might as well let her have me.
She's not like my Big Sis, I kept repeating to myself.
"Well?"
"Yeth Mathter, me is sowwy."At last she smiled.
"That's better. You're not really a bad little girlie are you?"
"No mathter."
"You're gonna let Daddy teach you to be a slut aren't you Princess?"
"Yeth mathter."
That was the end of our dialog.
I didn't mind the talk, but was dead scared when we moved to the action.
For Master's eyes were burning with excitement, hands trembling as the buttons on her pants were undone, no pantie, I could see her naked pussy!
She leaped on the bed aside me, fiercely lifted up my dress and roughly pulled down my pantie and plunged her opening onto my limp dick.
She rubbed herself fiercely over me, circling round and round and round, then up and down, stirring my feeble dick, forcing it into a semblance of stiffness it didn't desire.
Yet when it had grown, it became filled with the desire and stretched to its full glory and her evident satisfaction.
With a roar she plunged her vagina into my dick and yelled in ecstasy and I began pumping my dick underneath her, stimulating her, driving her wild with pleasure.
I pushed further in until my voice was almost crying out in jubilant pain as I searched out every furthest nook and cranny inside her.
With a flood I fertilized every inch of her I could fill.
As I pulled back, she continued her rubbing.
She kept on and on, cum floating between our bodies as my subsided dick was forced to remain inside her.
She was wildly draining me forcing out my cum from places I never knew kept any. She was frenzied in her passion.
"You're my little baba, Princess Slut," she pronounced, and lay next to me.
How was I ever gonna get away. Did I want to now?
I did. I knew I did when she produced that needle.
She offered some tale about the doctor leaving a prescription for me.
She produced his scrawled instructions, which appeared to order two treatments for 7 days, one injection in the morning, another from a second medicine each evening.
"Read it," she ordered me triumphally, "he showed me how to inject you, or you can administer it yourself."
"But I wasn't sick," I protested, "I was...."
I broke off. I hadn't meant her to learn I had stuck my fingers down my throat.
"That's as may be," she went on, at least ignoring my confession, "but doctor has ordered this treatment. Do you want me to tell him you refuse to take it?"
I shrugged my shoulders. I was acting a spoiled Princess Slut, only I wasn't acting.
"Very well, I'll have to phone him and ask what to do. He doesn't take kindly to out of hours calls unless they're genuinely necessary. Oh, actually I remember it's his partner on call tonight."
"I don't care, phone the quack up."
"Well, don't blame me if he's angry. If he needs to pay a call here...."
She uttered these threats as she dialed on my bedroom phone extension.
I heard the number ringing.
"263, what's wrong?"
"Oh hello Dr Blenkinsop, this is Miss Norma Dawson of Norma's Hotel, I'm phoning on behalf of-"
I promptly cut off the phone.
"Okay," I conceded ungraciously. I didn't want that idiot on my case.
The malevolent smile she gave me made me shiver. Anything however was better than being treated by Blenkinsop again.
She fetched a small box containing the needles. One labeled Evening had evidently been prepared in advance.
Sullenly I lifted the sleeve of my sissy dress.
"That's a good girly," she cooed as she prepared my shoulder, "doctor told me that the evening formula is much stronger and that you should sleep soundly."
She jabbed the point in, not fiercely, but relishing her task.
She wasn't wrong either. An immediate soporific effect took hold of me.
"Oooo, he wasn't wrong was he?" cried nurse, "let me help you lie down in bed. That's it, sleep well my little baby girly."
The last thing I remember was her fondling my little dick as I sunk into a deep sleep.
The sensation of a curious light headedness came over me when I woke up next morning. Laissez-faire, I think it's called. Whatever the injection was for, it wasn't for curing my sickness, for I felt vaguely nauseous.
Norma soothed me by saying the doctor said I might feel worse before I got cured. But the question throbbed insistently in my mind, what was I being treated for?
In one way, I didn't care. I was more relaxed, any thought of leaving via the window was abandoned, I could not contemplate leaving even my room, I knew I was being moulded to Norma's will.
I ate in my room, and when alone, I rationalized my feelings.
Norma I hated.
I loved her sex play with me however. That I really couldn't wait for again.
But I hated being dominated by her, in her manly clothing. It was demeaning, I felt used.
It was different when I had been a slut for GI Joe, and all those men at Grimsdyke.
Then I had been Princess Slut, egging them on to ravage my body, to fulfil their lust inside this sissy slut. I had been in control even though I was only a sex object. With Norma, I had to lie helpless in the female position, no control at all, in Norma's hands, and mostly her vagina, to do anything she wanted. It was the fact that I didn't know the limits of what she craved, that's what made me shrink from her.
That morning, after cooing time after time that I was her babydoll princess, she had got angry when I refused to sign papers, stating I was to become her adopted girl.
It was absurd.
"I'm your age," I said, though that was being kind. She must be ten years older than me. Nearly old enough to be my mother. Oh crumbs, that's what she wants to be.
I reminded her I would be leaving her hotel at the end of the month. Though my will to do this was wilting, like my dick.
Though she took my refusal well, she kept repeating her desire over the next week.
During this period, I had a regular diet of work, sex was always with men now, three a day which tired me out, but was always very satisfying for my clientele. I loved going doggy style and having their cum dripping on my bedsheet. It was completely stained by the end of that week.
Norma ensured she got the best from her babydoll, by taking me each afternoon.
It was always wonderful, always exhausting, and overpoweringly humiliating as I lay under her furnace of lust filled desire. It seemed as though her intensity was driving my dick into an apology of itself. For this was Norma's revenge: those drugs were shriveling my stick. Its size had decreased alarmingly when stiff to only four inches. Limp it was smaller also, though much more sensitive, and much much softer, almost like a fleece. Very pleasant to touch.
The doctor made a return visit at the end of the week.
The fact that he examined my dick proved that he wasn't treating me for sickness.
"I could get you struck off," I blustered.
"Then you'd be transferred to Dr Blenkinsop," was his counter.
"Why? " I asked, "why have you done this? Was Norma behind it?"
He didn't answer my second query, but he did advise,
"I work closely with my partner, and he has advised me closely. We have been treating you as you really ought to have been treated at the hospital, to arrest your sexual deviancy."
"But I have no deviancy," I shouted, "like I had no real sickness. "
"It's too late now," he replied, ignoring my protest. "Since you are a mental patient, we do not need your permission to adminster drugs. In the absence of any relative, Norma agreed on your behalf."
"But agreed to what, what have you been giving me?" I yelled.
"It's to treat your sexual deviancy, as I already told you," he answered deliberately, "you will see the effects in the next few weeks. Just consider yourself fortunate that we have allowed you to remain here rather than refer you back to Grinsdyke."
Thus the remainder of my time at Norma's was spent with a similar routine. Sex with the boss in the afternoon, males to entertain at night.
A new dose of injections at the start and end of the day.
The final day of January arrived at long last.
Freedom tomorrow!
My last day had been different. Norma had told me she was going out, so my afternoon was free. It was odd, for she had never yet missed pounding herself into me, I both exhilarated by her lovemaking and disgusted at acquiescing in my slutty servility.
Still, I was glad her manly sex would be over. In truth I had had difficulty penetrating her the last few days. She had found a way, but those injections had indeed reduced by physical prowess, though not my drive.
One inch at full erection. I masturbated myself that afternoon, and gazed upon my sorry dick at its full stretch. I didn't go as far as cumming, in case she might desire a final consummation that night. But it was assuring to find that I could have ejaculated had I needed to.
I let it flop. It was no size at all, but I loved its touch, almost like soft fur. Ridiculous that it is nicer when flaccid like this, somehow the softness disappears when I harden up.
Tomorrow I'll see a different doctor and ask him to gimme some counter drugs.
The evening had begun as usual.
GI Joe for his fifth and final show. He had no interest in my dick, but when I admired his magnificent size compared with my pathetic object that was no dick at all, it gave me painful reflections.
But as he was reaching his grunting climax, young Shirley popped in with, "oh don't mind me."
She sat down and watched.
"You waitin' for me babe?" Joe asked.
"Get lost," was her pointed reply, "I'm here to help our Princess."
"Yeah, she's some cummy slut- aaaaah!"
He filled my welcoming back passage.
"Well, that's what I'm here for," smiled Shirley.
She ordered me to keep in my doggy crouch, "keep that cum in, princess!"
"Yes, but I usually...."
"Norma's orders," insisted Shirley, who turned to Joe.
"So Big Boy, how's that Big Boy of yours gonna respond to me?"
He stared at her wide eyed.
"I'm spent, doll."
"Sez you!"
I turned my head and saw her masturbating his dick that was now not much bigger than mine. Well, that's an exaggeration. Anyway she was coaxing it as he groaned.
"Maybe he's not such a Big Boy after all!" laughed Shirley, as his response was that of a wet blanket. "Okay Joe, we'll have to let you go."
"Say miss, you won't tell the boys about this, will yer?"
"Oh no, if you make it worth my while!"
We had a good laugh when he had gone.
"Can I lie down now?" I asked, for I was feeling tired as usual these days after my exertion,
"Oh no, Princess, Norma's orders, remember?"
"Why?"
"You'll learn soon enough. I only know you've got a female as your last tonight."
The second client however was another male, a newcomer. Mr Brown he called himself.
He was nervous, I guessed this was his first time in such a place, and that increased my feeling of dominance.
"Come in, Mr Brown, you can see I'm ready and waiting!"
I was still doggy style, and had turned my head in an unusual form of welcome.
Shirley played up, taking his hand."
"This way, Mr Brown," she grinned.
"Oh but I, I, I...."
"There's nothing to worry about," were Shirley's soothing words.
"Your princess is all ready for you, Mr Brown," I teased.
"But I, but I...."
"Now no butting, like a silly billy goat, Mr Brown," Shirley exclaimed, "the only butting you're gonna do, is butt right into Princess!"
She coaxed him towards me and undid his buttons.
"You did ask for me?" I checked.
"Oh yes please," he said sounding much more enthusiastic. "From all the photos in the office, I knew it was Princess Slut I wanted."
"Then you shall have her, Now!"
"But, but...."
"I've told you, " Shirley scolded him as she pulled out his six inch dick, "this is the only butting you need to do."
He resisted.
"But she's got cum smeared all over her!"
"Well," I retorted, "I'm a Slut, what did you expect?"
"Oh, oh of course."
Shirley put an end to his doubts by nestling up behind him and thrusting her lower part so that had nowhere to go, as she guided his six incher inside my cummy interior.
"There, that wasn't so bad," Shirley informed him."
"No, no, it's very nice miss. Mmm, very very nice."
Shirley pushed him like you drive in a nail, he kept on moaning about what a very nice Princess Slut I was, until his warm cum was added to the pool sloshing around inside me.
"Mmmm, thank you," he gasped, "will you be using my stuff for anything?"
"Oh, we'll see," laughed Shirley, "we'll see, it belongs to us now, doesn't it?"
"I suppose so," he said, and muttering continuously his appreciation left us.
"No, stay crouching," Shirley reminded me. "I think it may be time for your last client."
"Unless I'm mistaken, here they come!"
It was Lady Ditcham.
With her was Norma and my rotten doctor.
From my far from honourable position, I turned my head to smile at the dishonourable lady, but gave a look of contempt at the medic.
She stood with Norma as the doctor came up to my ungainly position, Shirley patting my back.
He pronounced himself very satisfied as he examined my small dick.
To Norma he called out, "a little adjustment here," I craned my neck to see where he was pointing.
Then he dug out a magnifying glass, closely inspecting my anus.
"Good, good," he murmured to himself. "Right Princess, you have one final injection.
"But Norma told me that I've had my last one."
"Certainly, for that particular treatment. Everything is fine in that respect, I'm pleased to assure you. But I need to administer one final injection. It will be apparent quite soon why."
"Please go ahead," Norma said firmly in that tone that reminded me so much of my dreaded Big Sis.
"Right," agreed the doctor, "The backside is the obvious place."
I shuddered involuntarily. "Owww!"
"Sorry," the doctor apologized, it has to go in deep. The effects, as I suggested, will appear quite soon."
My backside felt numb.
The doctor packed his things.
Why Lady Ditcham had to watch, I had no idea. But she stepped forward now, at Norma's sign, while Shirley with a friendly pet on my thigh, wished me good luck.
"And how is my Princess tonight?"
"Very well, all things considered, thank you, your Ladyship."
"Ah, that's good to hear you so cheerful despite this recent indignity that one witnessed."
I couldn't think of a reply. Norma was undressing Lady Ditcham, while I, like a stranded porpoise, waited.
She was naked. Not attractively naked, but I had a soft spot for her. She was willing to forfeit her dignity by being exposed to myself and Norma and the doctor, I admired that. But was she gonna mount me? I didn't see her as a ravaging man like Norma.
No.
What her dishonourable ladyship wanted was to make herself lose every scrap of her dignity.
"You can relax, Princess Slut," Norma told me, "do whatever her ladyship wants.
What the dishonourable lady required of me, was to roll over in my pretty sissy dress on top of her.
She lay on the bed and pulled me on top of her.
The cum flew everywhere.
Over my dress.
Most of all over her ladyship, who wallowed like a pig in clover.
We rolled over and over, I wondering if she wanted me to penetrate her, I knew that would be nigh on impossible.
However a curious feeling came over me.
The injection I had forgotten. However we both became aware of a swelling between our closely knit bodies. At first I thought it was her.
But it was me!
"You must be pregnant," Norma cried.
Her Ladyship gave a gasp, so did I but mine was more of doubt, hers of joy unconfined.
I did look almost as though I were expecting a baby.
"Oh, oh, it's wonderful," her ladyship was gloating in her happiness.
The doctor smiled.
"As your ladyship pleases," his remark was quite neutral. "You wish to purchase the princess?"
"Oh yes rather, "she said with unladylike keenness, "as long as you can do It."
"No problem, I'll do it now, if Norma and you have agreed the price."
It was time for me to speak out.
"Look, I don't know if you know it, Lady Ditcham, but I'm leaving here in the morning."
"Yes, that's right dear, you're coming with me to Ditcham Hall."
"I'm sorry, I certainly am not."
"Look princess," Norma butted in, "you don't remember signing yourself over to me as my adopted babydoll do you?"
"I never did. I refused."
"Oh but you did, for the month of January.
Look, here's what you signed."
I stared blankly at the paper pushed in front of my face.
"I never signed that," I spluttered.
"Well there's no argument, the doctor here signed as one of the witnesses."
It may have looked like a genuine legal document, but I knew, I just knew they had fixed this somehow.
"Until midnight tonight, I have the right to sell you on," Norma insisted, "I am doing so because I am tired of your pretending to please me. I knew all along you were playing me along, but I have outsmarted you, Princess Slut!"
I struggled. Norma with the doctor's assistance tied me to the bed, and gagged me, so all I could do was kick in protest.
"Go ahead doctor," Norma said severely, "then we can clinch our deal." She said this last to Lady Ditcham who was listening to all this in a bemused way.
"If Princess is made nice and girly," she said as a seal to their agreement.
The doctor crouched over my swollen abdomen. He wasn't gonna go as far as try and have sex with me was he?
No.
He got out his bag and explained.
"You see the skin is all stretched at present Hilda. Now we can sew some stitches in princess."
"Good."
I wriggled as much as I could.
Norma had to hold my legs, while Lady Ditcham vainly soothed my brow.
The needle hurt too.
"If you keep still it will be much less painful."
I continued my struggle making each needle insertion the more unpleasant. I wasn't sure exactly what he was doing at first, but soon the terrible truth dawned.
The skin was being sown over my testicles so they were for ever concealed!
Minutes later the doctor pronounced himself satisfied. I however wasn't. But Lady Ditcham was, as she signed some formal papers with Norma.
"You're my little baby girl from now on, "she smiled at me.
As I looked down at what had once been my dick, I could see she was right.
My third of an inch dick looked more like a large clit now. Only a pussy was missing, that would have made me every last inch her baby girl.
Is my swelling gonna burst me?
Thankfully, hours later, my swelling subsided, and I am handed a toy dolly, 'your baby."
I have been turned into her ladyship's baby girl.
I can't walk, drugs have weakened my feet.
I can't talk, some drug has slurred my speech into incomprehensibility.
On February 1st I left the hotel, and was now enthroned as Princess Slut in Lady Ditcham's historic mansion. Surely my treatment here would be of the best, but what exactly awaited me?
Nothing on the first day, a day of rest, thankfully.
I even tried to discover how my dick looked if I tried a hard on.
The word is pathetic in looks, yet still throbbing with cum.
I was a man with a man's sex urge, but a female in my dress. Like Norma in reverse. Only she has not had her vital parts doctored, castrating me, laughably that old fool Blenkinsop who had complained of my non existent sexual deviancy, ought to see how deviant I had been made.
March had come in, and though I was in effect in my usual condition, that of a prisoner, I had spent a very pleasant four weeks, resting in bed, waited on hand and foot by Lady Ditcham's myrmidons, in a luxurious bedchamber.
I had asked Lady Ditcham what she wanted me for, but all she had said was that I needed to recover after my recent ordeal. That was true enough, though one time she explained that "I needed to get my strength up."
So I waited with slight apprehension, but I believed I could trust her ladyship, unlike Norma.
Now with spring in the air, I was starting to feel a little frisky, like a spring lamb. My sap was rising! A month without sex had made me keen to have another dishonourable session with Lady Hilda, as the staff called her.
I assumed that is what I was here for.
But it wasn't.
In she came, beaming, a few days later.
"It's time for me to tell you why you're here, Princess."
I smiled and tried to mouth the word Dishonourable, and despite my speech impediment I think she knew what I wanted to convey.
"No, it's not that, though I'm flattered you should want to let me do that with you. The fact is that I am expecting my own baby."
I look at her surprised.
"Yes, one couldn't believe it at first. But Dick Blenkinsop, he's our family doctor, confirmed it yesterday. I was thrilled, naturally."
If that idiot had told her, she needs a second opinion, I uncharitably thought.
"Of course, you must be the father."
I pointed at myself in disbelief.
"My only time since my husband died. Dr Blenkinsop said I was never likely to conceive again after our daughter was born."
That figured.
"Of course," her Ladyship continued, "it's deucedly awkward, as people will be asking questions."
"GI?" I offered a possible excuse.
"But you know, and I know," she answered, "I'll tell you what I have been thinking."
I sat up and gave the middle aged lady my closest attention.
"I had chosen you, as you know, to be my baby girl. I still want you for that. However friends might be mystified if my new baby is also the father of my unborn child!"
"Oh."
"So I have decided I don't care what they say, I'm gonna be real dishonourable, baby, as those Americans might say."
"I see." Though I didn't.
"There was a second reason I chose you," she concluded. "My daughter Joan."
I looked at her.
"She had a difficult birth, and she had a number of deformities."
"Sowwy."
"To make it brief, I had the best doctors treat her.
I mouthed the question, "Blenkinsop?"
"Oh no, certainly not. But you see when the war came, she was just into her teens, and it was impossible to find surgeons to perform some medical procedures."
"Ah."
"I'll tell you more later on, I promise. But now I want you to be my Baby Princess."
I nodded.
"Call me Mama, please."
"Mama," I got it out even though my speech was blurred.
"That's a good girl. Come to mama."
She held out her arms.
I came to mama.
She lifted her dress. She wanted to breastfeed me!
With her real milk.
I needed no second invite, I reveled in being a little baby, it was wonderfully moving.
"Of course, we wanna be dishonourable- no don't answer, keep suckling darling- so I wanna do something special while you drink."
Her hand descended to my silky white dress. As I comprehended her intention, the little soft object she had pulled at, grew to an inch in its excitement.
I purred with pleasure. This was worth waiting for. My tiny stick purred with the insistent cum that it could scarcely contain.
She let go, to my disappointment, so I sucked more feverishly to encourage her to renew her dishonourable activity.
"Princess, I want you to meet Joan."
A butler brought in a pretty young eighteen year old. Apart from her limp. I noticed none of the deformities her mother had hinted at.
One however became apparent, indeed the whole of the past month suddenly made sense.
Without a flicker of emotion, the servant removed dispassionately the girl's clothing.
Then she ran towards me as I nestled in her mother's bosoms.
Her passage was a mere hole. I couldn't held noticing.
"Keep suckling my darling. Joan wants you to be dishonourable to her."
Possibly mine was the only dick in the country that could perform such a duty. A duty? No this was a pleasure. She flopped herself on my recumbent body, and gasped with pleasure as she located my stick in her tiny hole.
I gasped too, with milk flooding my mouth from mother, daughter milked me for all she was worth.
I hardly squeezed in, but in I was, and pumping with ecstatic pleasure inside her. I pumped and I pumped, nothing wrong with my cum production, which flowed into her for at least half a joyous minute.
Ever since I'd dressed up at Big Sis's command, never had I had such an exhilarating time.
"But this is impossible."
It was Dr Blenkinsop who had hurried to Ditcham Hall to check if Joan was pregnant.
He had been shown into the scene of our mini orgy, I hiding myself in a corner as Lady Ditcham swooned in delight.
"I want you to check doctor, to see if she might be expecting."
"But her entrance needed surgery, your ladyship, it just couldn't be possible."
"But the specialist said if that, that difficulty, was fixed she might still, er, have a child."
"Yes, possibly she could conceive- but not at present."
Despite his doubts, her ladyship forced him to examine her daughter.
He poked with his finger, seeming to enjoy this, then with a tube pushed it down the entrance I had so recently happily invaded.
His beetroot face expressed puzzlement, "but it is incredible," he cried, "how can it be? Tolle," he ejaculated, "Wunder... a miracle!"
"What do you think?" Lady Ditcham inquired needlessly.
"Your ladyship, semen has some got as far as her womb, so if as you say she is in season, it is certainly a possibility. But I do not comprehend how she could fertilized be."
"It's a mystery," declared Lady Ditcham with a smirk.
"But zere must be ein Father."
"It was the same stranger who raped me. I recognized him as he forced his way into here tonight."
So that was the story she had dreamed up, to explain her, and Joan's pregnancy. I caught her glance towards me in the corner, it was saying, you're gonna be my baby girl.
I was right. As soon as the incompetent quack had left, she had wrapped this sissy baby in a terrylene nappy and was feeding me some more of her delicious milk. I was even eager to squirt another dose of my cum into Joan, just to make sure. Only my nappy was in the way,
Joan was happily stroking the father's brow as he sucked.
If only that doctor hadn't been such a fool!
For he burst in, apologizing that he forgotten his bag.
When he saw me, he shouted, "You!"
It was a blur what followed.
I remember Lady Ditcham and Joan telling him not to be so daft, as he yelled thru the window, "Police, Police" at the top of his voice.
Though Ditcham Hall is secluded, it was my misfortune that the home guard had been given permission to do their exercises in the grounds.
I heard a tramping of eager men ascend the stairs in answer to the call of duty.
I recall Lady Ditcham all of a dither, and Joan sobbing as I leaped from the window. But not to freedom, for too late I was reminded that I could not walk easily. I tottered for a few paces before collapsing. Lady Ditcham's drugs had babyfied me too well.
On all fours in the sweet babydoll dress that covered my nappy, I scampered for cover. Eluding the home guard, whose skills were only equaled by Blenkinsop, I had an idea of seeking shelter at Norma's.
I had crawled an exhausting mile or so and under cover of darkness reached the right street.
Alas. Having eluded the few pedestrians, I failed to spot a GI coming from behind.
"Say, little girl, you're out very late."
"Me wanna get to Norma's," is what I wanted to say, but my words were impossible for him to follow.
"Norma's," I repeated, though it sounded more like Irbas.
The GI was as he said to himself flummoxed. He couldn't quite get his head round what looked like a grown up in a diaper, as he called it, not speaking goddarn sense.
My mime of a curvaceous woman shocked him even more.
"Gee, that's where I'm goin'," he finally grasped my meaning.
So, muttering under his breath something about the craziest thing, he said he'd take me to where he was goin'.
It helped me avoid a couple of other passers by, as the GI said "she's with me," in an embarrased voice.
I reached the safety of Norma's.
She however failed me badly.
In a wheelchair a policeman pushed me to the police headquarters. My freedom had been short lived.
After a dismal night in a cell, I protested in vain to the magistrate next day, as Dr Blenkinsop testified that I was the one who had escaped from the mental home.
The court ordered me to be remanded there, indefinitely. On the doctor's advice, I must remain there "just as I am." In diapers and sissy dress.
The director welcomed me back. Well, not exactly welcomed, he looked grim. I was to go to my old cell. I dreaded how Dick might use me.
"However," he continued, "before you are sent there, I want you to meet Major Dawson.
A young man entered on cue, accompanied by an adjutant.
"You may have met the major, his sister runs the hotel where you were recaptured."
I shook my head.
Though actually I did remember him- he had once been a client there!
"Jolly good show," said Major Dawson, taking over. "Now sir, you're the only person who can do this op for us, will you do it?"
I'd not been addressed as Sir for many a day, so I listened attentively.
Lady Ditcham had vouched to him that I wasn't at all the deviant Blenkinsop made out. She believed I was the right person for this job.
My mission, which I decided to accept, was to go to Berlin.
Blenkinsop, a Nazi spy, was traveling there tomorrow. Knowing a certain person's delight in deviants, it was arranged for him to deport me in a wheelchair to meet their leader. All I had to do was blow their Big Man up.
I was all dolled up in my sweetest sissy dress. Nappy discarded, since it didn't seem appropriate.
"Wer is diese Prinzessin Schlampe?"
Thru Blenkinsop, an introduction to the Big Man was made this afternoon. I had not understood his inspection of me though the words, schon and Hure, I did comprehend. But his fascination with me was evident.
Tonight I am going to the Big Man's bunker. I gonna do to him what I'd always wanted to do to Big Sis.
The above story is taken using extracts from Kev's detailed diary, the accuracy of which is not guaranteed. That final paragraph was the last.
