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THE COUNCIL

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  • THE COUNCIL

    THE COUNCIL

    The air was crisp on this moonlit May evening. I stood outside my small
    house in the suburban communities of Toronto, feeling the cold bite at my
    nose. But I didn't mind it. It was rather enjoyable. A good night to go for
    a walk, dispite the hour.
    I was young then. About eighteen, give or take. I've always been slender and
    lean, with rather feminine features.
    My blonde hair rustled in the wind as I strolled down a park, the roads
    silent, traffic virtually non-existant. With my hands in my khaki pant's
    pockets, I enjoyed the sounds of the night. The chirping of the crickets,
    the soft roar of the wind in my ears. The windbreaker on me rustled with
    every step as I passed the trees between the path. Though the foilage around
    the path was dense, I hadn't a fear. No one was about at two in the morning,
    anyways. Besides, it was a safe community. My parents never mind me walking
    at this hour.
    I whistled a cheery tune, an old Beatles song, as my sneakers clapped along
    the paved walkway. A lovely night.
    Then disaster struck.
    I was suddenly grabbed from behind, taken by the waist with a strong, gloved
    hand around my face. I couldn't even muffle a scream. The person's hand was
    so tight around my face that my jaws refused to open. All I could do was
    moan the equivilant of a scream. That was quickly silenced by a fist to the
    side.
    I couldn't see my attacker. All I could do was struggle and thrash in their
    strong arms, but everything I tried was to no avail. I kicked, I lashed out,
    but each seemed to be a waste of my fleeting energy. Even fear couldn't fuel
    me to do better - I was already trying my best.
    A female voice whispered in my ear. "You keep quiet now, y'hear? If you
    don't keep quiet, I'll kill you without hesitation."
    The death threat silenced me in movement and sound. My breathing was ragged,
    my eyes wide, pupils dialated in the darkness.
    I felt a hard object against my back, quickly realizing it was the barrel of
    a gun. "What your feeling is the end of a silencer, attached to a Glock.
    Rough, aint it?" her grammar was rough, but she had the sweetest of voices.
    Almost like a phone sex operator. "Dont give me reason to fire it. Now do as
    I say..."
    She let go of me. My first instinct was to run, but I thought better of
    that. I stood, my back turned to the attacker, frozen as if God himself had
    poured cement over me and made me a living statue.
    "Don't you dare turn around, boy. Now, follow my lead. Walk through the
    forest... thats it, easy now. Dont do anythin' stupid, or someone's gonna
    find yer body in a ditch with enough holes in it that you'd be a livin'
    spongue. See that car?"
    I looked towards the car, nodding.
    "Well, we're goin for a ride, you n' I."
    I was lead towards the car against my will with an ultimatum on my
    shoulders. What more could I do? I had no choice other than to follow along.
    I walked with my female abducter to the car door. She ordered me to open it
    and I did as I was told.
    The last thing I remember from that night is the sound of the butt of a gun
    hitting the back of my head. The wet crack indicated that she did a little
    damage when the steel hit my skull. I fell unconscious.
    My sleep was endless and dreamless. Occasionally I Dosed into
    half-consciousness but quickly fell, only catching snippettes of
    conversation around me.
    And then finally came the day where I awoke.
    At first I was drowsy. I couldn't make out words from the talk of the woman
    standing over my... bed. I Was on a bed. Strapped down of course. It was a
    comfortable, though, and the pillows were soft enough that my wound didn't
    sting.
    "...mine now......forever I'll be known as.... mistress... obey.....dont
    talk ba-...."
    I blinked the sleep from my eyes as I slowly came to full awareness. The
    room I was in looked slummy. Almost like what one would expect to find in an
    abandoned neighbourhood. But I was comfortable. And at long last, I got a
    look at my attacker.
    She had blonde hair tired back in a ponytail, fair features with the faint
    hint of freckles under her eyes and upon her nose. She wore tight-fitting
    blackleather, forming around her curves which seemed quite ample and
    volumptous. I probably would have found her absolutely breathtaking had it
    not been for my current situation.
    "Do you understand me, Blair?" called the voice to me.
    I moaned my understanding.
    "Good." she said, and then sat beside my bed. "Each day you will wear a
    skirt and panties, never your old male clothes. I will give you pills every
    day, and if you do not take them you will find me to be quite furious. You
    dont want your mistress to be furious, now do you?"
    It sunk it, at long last. I was her slave. Her female slave. But I had a
    penis. I knew I did. I felt it sticking between my legs, dry and flacid.
    "I expect you to service me. And by service, I dont just mean sexually. You
    will go shopping with me, do chores around the house, and do all that I
    command that I have not mentioned. I could mention them all, but I don't
    have all day now do I? You don't want your mistress to waste her time, now
    do you?"
    Her accent was different now. Her speech was impeccable, her tone different
    from the night before. She likely spoke like that just in case I got away,
    so I couldn't identify her with speech.
    I tried asking what she was doing but found I had a ball gag in my mouth. I
    couldn't speak at all - it was all just mumbles and incoherent mumbles at
    that.
    "Slave, I did not ask you to speak! That means you dont speak!"
    Her leather gloved hand collided with my cheek. Blood leaked from my lips -
    she had split the bottom lip. I grimaced. My eyes were watery - It felt like
    looking through a fishbowl.
    She reached up and stroked my hair. "You'll get used to it. Someday, at
    least. And when that happens, you'll realize I'm doing the best for you.
    Now..." she untied me. I felt too weak to get away. "...I want you to get up
    and get dressed."
    She threw a pile of clothes at me. If you could call them clothes.
    Most were scantily clad pieces to outfits. All except the white blouse that
    was missing under all its buttons. A set of breast enhancers stuck out, out
    of all of them. She got up and walked off, unwilling to help.
    Rubbing my head, I mumbled and slowly slid on all that she asked me too. It
    was for the better. I knew she was armed and that alone gave me enough
    incentive not to try anything tricky.
    The bra was the hardest to piece together. It didnt seem to fit right. After
    what seemed like a hundred unlucky tries, the back clasp finally clipped
    together. I sighed and stuffed the cups with the enhancers before sliding on
    the blouse and doing up the buttons.
    I Felt violated. I felt abused. I felt aroused by the silk against my skin
    from the paperthin skirt she had given me.
    No panties were included, and my freshly shaved pubic area (I had never
    shaved in my life - she must have done this to me) felt cool in the breeze
    that flowed freely up the hemline and around my thighs.
    Wearing this new clothing, I made my way out the door, peaking around. The
    house was shabby but it had efficient furnature. The contents of the
    coffeetable scared me. A magazine with a female dominatrix glimmered with
    it's glossy paper in the dim lighting. A few sex toys were left untouched.
    Except one.
    A plastic cock had been strapped on around my abducter's waist. She adjusted
    the straps. I went back into my room, begging for a place to hide to no one.
    I found none - only an inevitable feeling that this was to be my life.
    The door opened of my room. She gazed at me. "What a pretty little slut you
    are." she said, her voice husky. "And sluts like cock. All sluts do. You,
    you stupid slut, are going to get some cock now."
    She gestured to the strapon around her waist. Her form was nude, pretty
    much. Her leather bra had holes in the middle to reveal her breasts and
    perky nipples.
    "Suck." she ordered in a one-word command.
    I fell to my knees for some reason. I felt the need, the urge to obey her.
    Opening my jaw as wide as humanly possible, I slowly stuffed my mouth with
    her plastic meat. She stroked the back of my hair, telling me I was a
    natural at this.
    This was not what I wanted to hear.
    She ordered me to do things. To lick the shaft, to suck on the head, to
    massage her thighs as she thrusted into my mouth. I felt it hit my gag
    reflex and I almost brought up my lunch, but soon enough it subsided,
    allowing her to slowly fill my throat. I felt it fill my mouth, fill my
    esophagus. I could barely breathe. I could only wrap my mouth around it and
    suck as she ordered me to.
    Soon enough she withdrew the cock from my mouth and told me to bend over.
    "Sluts like it in their pussy. You know that, right slut? You ever seen a
    slut banged in the pussy? Well, it feels like this. I Dont want to here a
    fucking word from you, you whore. You whimper and I'll just push harder."
    I bent over when she asked me to, and felt the slick plsatic texture of her
    strapon slide between my firm, hairless cheeks. I grimaced as the head
    pressed against my tight hole.
    It felt like someone had lit a match in me.
    I bit my lip, almost screaming, until finally she filled me. Slowly,
    however. Inch by inch that plastic cock slipped into my ass, inch after
    painful inch. My split lip started to bleed again. I sucked the blood out of
    the wound, trying to distract the pain she inflicted as I felt her tear up
    my insides with each push.
    She began thrusting against me, holding my ass with her leather-gloved hand.
    She had the fingerpads cut out, so I felt her warm flesh against mine. And
    slowly, after a dozen or so thrusts, pain subsided and turned into pleasure.
    She filled me. I moaned and found myself thrusting my hips back to meet
    hers. I think I heard her giggle with glee as she filled me to the hilt of
    her cock. My moans were acknowledged, and she brought it up to speed. Her
    thrusts went faster, burrowing into my man-cunt.
    She moaned herself, and I realized that somehow this was stimulating her as
    well. She was getting off on this completely.
    when she withdrew, she shed the plastic cock and I found myself looking at a
    small hardon. The dildo was a sheath to enhance size.
    With her bare, fleshy, and very real cock she returned to my ass, filling me
    with each thrust, though it barely felt like anything. She moaned like there
    was no tomorrow.
    Before I knew it, I Felt a watery substance run into my ass and drip off
    down my balls. The four inch hardon had cum in my ass.
    She gasped, bucking hard against me before withdrawing and bringing her
    hardon to my mouth. Reluctantly, I began deepthroating it, tasting her
    juices and my ass.
    Once she was satisfied, she pushed me on the ground.
    "My name is Pauline. I am your mistress... and one day you will be like me.
    I am of the Trans Council, and our goal is to change as many men into good,
    obediant shemale women."
    I would become one of them one day, perhaps, if I was good. If not, I'd
    remain a slut for their pleasure like I was now.
    "So do as your told."
    I have for three years. It's now paying off. After being the object of many
    cock's affections, both male and shemale, and dealing with public
    humiliations, I am beginning the first of many operations to slowly form
    myself into the perfect shemale.
    When the time comes, I'll find myself a mate like Pauline has. And when I
    do, I'm sure I'll have the time of my life.


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