|From Top to Bottom|
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|Storycodes: M/m; MF/m; D/s; latex; cd; tv; corset; stockings; panties; dress; wig; fem; tease; chast; cons; X||
|From Top to Bottom 11: Transformation Completed rbbral M/m; MF/m; D/s; latex; cd; tv; corset; stockings; panties; dress; wig; fem; tease; chast; cons; X|
|story continued from part 10
After many stories relating to rubber fetish and associated themes I have decided that, at least for now, this is my last, and for that I wanted to write something very different, and challenging for me So this is a gay rubber story, something I have never tried before. Whether or not it “works” and has credibility is entirely up to the reader, although I have to say I did quite enjoy writing it.
Chapter 11: Transformation Completed
During this time I had cause to think back over the weeks and now months since I first met Ryan. Of course when he first came to my apartment, it was he and not me dressed as the rubber tranny, and I had to chuckle at how the tables had truly turned, I was certainly no longer the master. By a series of very subtle (and not so subtle) manoeuvres he had calmly taken complete control of me, and my future, and he was barely a man out of his teens. I of course, had allowed this to happen, ultimately willingly after initial reticence, and misplaced pride. How had he known that under the master’s skin was a sub seeking escape? I have no idea, for I didn’t know it myself. But he was always full of encouragement and praise, never pushing me beyond the limit I could take at that moment, and so step by step, I walked willingly into his tender trap. I suppose that because we had sex after just about every rubber tranny dressing session did help in my acceptance!
A couple of days later he decided to take another step, or rather he persuaded me to take another step. Firstly we showered and I shaved my face, which is a light beard anyway, as smoothly as I could. Then we began by him saying that as I was in sub mode, from now on there was to be no speaking from me. He started my dressing, with shoulder gloves, stockings, then the corselette and this time I thought he pulled it even tighter. But now there were additions. First, much to my chagrin he told me to bend over, again hard to do with the corselette, and lubed a fairly small (thank goodness) butt plug before pressing it up inside me with virtually no resistance. My sphincter clamped around the narrow neck of the intruder, leaving the base resting between my cheeks.
I was very used now to much bigger plugs inside me, including his cock of course. He pulled a pair of latex panties over my stockinged legs trapping the butt plug, before drawing my cock and steel ringed balls through a reinforced hole at the front. Again I looked down and saw my erection sticking out between my rubber boobs. But he had moved on, and now he got me to step into a jet black dress, tight at waist and boobs, with a flared skirt to mid-thigh and loose sleeves to tight wrists. He zipped it up the back to a high collar, and now I was fully covered in rubber, and in many areas, two layers of it.
He walked slowly around me, inspecting me, admiring me, and I have to say I looked pretty good, I think. Apart from my cock raising the front of the skirt like a tent pole I think I could have passed pretty easily, actually very easily. But Ryan had a couple more cards up his sleeve.
Having the butt plug deep inside me, tickling my insides I was as horny as hell, and I was very disappointed to see Ryan dress in his street clothes. What was happening here? Once he was finished he got me to step into his pair of knee high shiny leather boots, with three inch heels. We were the same shoe size thankfully so this was easily done. Then he kissed me deeply and said quietly.
“Trust me, okay?” He drew my gloved hands behind my back and expertly cuffed me. I took a breath as he kissed my neck above the collar of the dress. Then he draped a long heavy rubber cape over my shoulders and pressed the studs from ankles to under my chin. All that was now exposed were my leather-clad feet and head. Feeling the rubber cape rustling over my rubber clothes underneath and being helplessly cuffed almost had me coming, but also by now I was getting a funny feeling. What had he in mind for me this time?
“I have a real treat for you, to complete your recognition of your transition to a 100% rubber tranny. I think you will like it, although you may be a bit nervous about it all, but then that’s the fun isn’t it? Come on.” And he took my arm under the cape.
Oh god, we were leaving the apartment, with me dressed like this, a rubber tranny from neck down but still “me”- a crop haired, clean shaven man from neck up.
“Ryan, I’m not sure about this at all…”
“Oh, don’t be silly, you’ll see this will be fun. And anyway, ha ha, there’s really not a lot you can do about it, is there?” Well I could scream blue murder but that wouldn’t be a good idea the way I was dressed. So with a deep breath, as much as the corselette would allow me, we left the apartment.
“Let’s take the stairs.” From the 12th floor? I thought, but too late, as we descended, with Ryan’s arm protectively around my now slim waist. We only went one floor and then I realised where we were going, at exactly the same time as Ryan rapped on the door to Pat’s playroom. I was actually thankful we were going to see her, for we had spent some time in her “dungeon” and we had become very comfortable with each other.
“And here she is.” Exclaimed Ryan as Pat opened the door with an expectant smile.
“Come in come in, great to see you. Oh, my goodness, you look good enough to eat Don.”
“Everything ready? You remember I told you he’s not permitted to speak, unless instructed, one of those sub/dom things haha. You know all about that now and Don’s really getting into this too.”
“Oh yes, I can see that, remember I had the pleasure of entertaining him at the fetish event. No problem at all, and we can do it at the make-up table I have in the client bedroom here. I have the occasional rubber tranny coming to see me; I’m trying to expand that side of my client base.”
She was clearly well prepared for us, for she had decided to dress the part, not in full mistress gear but a white rubber long sleeved blouse and black rubber skirt, tight around her waist and hips and falling to her ankles. Where was this going? I thought. Ryan pulled the cape’s press studs apart and allowed me to step out of it, and I saw Pat’s eyes almost pop out.
“Wow, well, don’t take offence Ryan, but my god I think Don has you beaten, he…she…well whatever, looks fantastic.” She stepped around me, even placing a hand around my waist.
“That’s a very stringent corselette I had made for him, aren’t his boobs great? And look at his hips. Here, I’ll raise the skirt at the rear; you can see he’s got a nice pair of latex panties on.”
“Hhmm What about this, erm, outline?”
“Ha ha, you don’t miss anything, well can’t you guess, that’s a butt plug. Only a small one but he’s getting to really like them now. This one doesn’t split him, just gives him a little tickle once in a while.” And Ryan slapped my rubber covered cheek.
“Haha, I love it, you are a devil Don.”
I was a mix of emotions. I was being talked about as if I was a mannequin, silent and submissive, which I suppose I was. I was not really embarrassed to be with Pat like this for she had worked on me for her website pictures and the evening at the fetish club had pretty well broken any boundaries, but the dynamics between us at that time had changed somewhat. I could see that she and Ryan had clearly hatched their little plan before and she was well prepared for my strange appearance. In fact she was really cool with it, very appreciative, which made me feel a lot more comfortable.
“And the cuffs?” She asked with a sly smile.
“Well I don’t want my date to run off, do I? Pat, look he’s my subbie and the cuffs simply reinforce that, you of all people know that and anyway he looks so shy and decorous with his hands behind his back like that. But…” and here Ryan pointed his finger at the bulge in the pleated rubber skirt where my cock, still erect, was trying to escape. “I think we’ll have to get this under control, and the best way is this.”
Pat laughed loud as she spied my hard-on. “Ohmygod, ha ha. You are incorrigible Don.”
From his shoulder bag Ryan withdrew my nemesis, the chastity device, and showed it to Pat.
“Now this keeps him under control at all times when I want. Only I have the key and when he’s not with me he will wear it, here, why don’t you try putting it on.”
“Oh well, no, I couldn’t, I mean…”
“Oh go on, you know all the ropes by now and he won’t bite, and I can see he’s becoming a bit softer now, so you should take your chance while you can.” Ryan held my skirt up as I stood still, concentrating hard to slowly become flaccid. Pat gave an “okay, I’m actually quite liking this” look and took my cock tenderly then expertly slid it down the plastic tube. Then she took the open scrotum ring and placed it around the neck of my sac and over the permanent steel ring that was already stretching my ball sac nice and tightly. She pressed it gently and I heard the tell-tale click of it locking. She gently fondled my imprisoned balls and ran her finger down the plastic tube enveloping my cock, as if reassuring me, then stood up and looked at me with considerable affection.
“You must….love him very much to wish him to subject you to this. This is what you really….” And before she could finish, I looked over at Ryan and nodded.
“Okay, so why don’t we go to the make-up table over there where I’ve set everything up.” There was a large mirror on a stand, surrounded by a mountain of make-up accessories. She saw my look as I gingerly sat in front of the mirror, feeling the butt plug move within me. And now I realised they had planned this, a final acceptance of my transformation into a rubber tranny all along.
“This is a test trial really, I got everything out as I think we have to experiment with colours and shades and what brings out your features best, yes?” And I nodded, still in a bit of a blur.
“We need to loosen up a bit and relax, Ryan, there’s some wine in the fridge. Don, I don’t know why looks a bit nervous.” I thought that was a very good idea, I could have done with a couple of stiff ones right then. Ryan returned quickly with three glasses and placed one at my lips, and I took a deep swig.
“Okay, so first you have a very light beard line and that’s good, and you have a very good bone structure, and no laugh lines at all. You know this shouldn’t be so terribly hard, I think I can get you to look really very good.”
And over the next two hours, with the butt plug tickling my insides, the corselette gripping me and pushing out my false boobs, and my cock trying to burst out of its chastity prison, Pat tried a series of combinations – firstly thinning out and shaping my eyebrows, then foundation, shadow, lipstick, gloss, liner. She ran the whole gamut, the plucking of my eyebrows being the most unpleasant, and by the time we had finished and they had decided what the best combination was I was exhausted.
But it had been worth it, for quite simply I couldn’t believe what I saw reflected in the mirror. Because of my light skin and beard I didn’t need heavy make-up, not at all, in fact the lipstick was a light pink rather than a deep scarlet. And the eye shadow was understated, a light blue/green. But the result was indeed transforming and astonishing. I didn’t see me staring back at all, but a very, very convincing woman, albeit with my very short ash-blonde hair. And it was this they addressed next.
“Okay, the final piece of the puzzle, Ryan gave me your head size last week and I’ve been hunting around for a suitable wig. I already had a few for my tranny clients. I think that we should keep it simple and fairly short, none of the over the top bouffant styles. You have the perfect shape for a bob or a pageboy.” And she tried a couple and it took them no time to choose a mouse coloured bob which fell to below my ears and curved round at the front, framing my face. I had to admit it was the perfect match for my face, complexion and make-up. Pat stood and leant over me, kissing me on the cheek.
“I can only take some of the credit, you gave me a great base to work with, but you’d pass anywhere Don….or should I say Donna, ha ha.” Ryan helped me up from the chair, I was stiff and a bit sore, particularly my arms, which I was now delighted to see that he was about to release.
“Yes.” He hugged me. “Donna it is then, I like it, fantastic Pat, thanks so much.” And we moved from her mistress’ suite to her own next door and retired to the living room to finish the second bottle of wine. I was no longer under silence orders and we had a fine time. I was now quite relaxed with my new “appearance”, the makeup, wig and corselette with thrust-out breasts, and dress completely transforming me. I was soon starting to get quite light-headed, which might have been the tight corselette or the wine, and Ryan gave me that look, so he placed the heavy cape over me we left Pat with our thanks. This time, a little mischievously he took the elevator, for only one floor, but by now, with the makeup and wig and virtually covered in the heavy cape I could pass any test.
I was now fully cognizant that I had moved irretrievably deeper into the sub role, and now more recently into the tranny role.
And I was comfortable with it, simple as that.
Ryan, little by little, with encouragement and flattery, was my top. It had taken several months, but it had been seamless, and after my initial reluctance when imprisoned in the rubber gimpsuit, there was now acceptance. But Ryan’s plans never stood still, he was always planning, and acting upon the next step of my transformation. It certainly was never dull. My wardrobe of female rubber clothes expanded, different colours, different styles and I was encouraged to come up with designs and fit. Now I embraced this role, thoroughly enjoying trying on new clothes. And with a lot of practice I got very skilled at my make-up, Pat telling me very shortly after our first session that I needed no more help from her. But I was happy to try ideas out with her – a new wig and different lipstick and gloss does amazing things for your look, and I could become quickly transformed.
So I was a committed rubber tranny, not all the time by any means for we had plenty of different role playing, sometimes me still the top, but this was getting rarer now. The fact was that the whole rubber tranny thing was something I now liked doing, it was actually fun, and I was getting good at it. It was another persona, one I could immerse myself in, act out at really being someone else. And I really was having a lot of fun doing it.
And as time progressed I was well aware that Ryan, Pat and I really were living the good life.
And then my birthday came along, and it was on a Saturday, a Saturday when there was a night on at the “Rubber Necking” club. Ryan said we should have a special night, and that he had some ideas. By now I was well experienced in his “ideas” and knew that it would indeed be special. After a light supper and our ablutions I entered the bedroom naked and saw that Ryan had placed all the clothes for the evening on the bed. They were in two heaps and I had a good idea which was mine. But again Ryan had seemed to pick the perfect moment to move my rubber transformation up a notch, a big notch.
Okay, hands up anyone, what’s the difference between a tranny and a sissy? Is there a difference? And does it matter anyway? We live in a world of labels – tranny, sissy, cd, tv, t-gurl, femboy, it’s all very confusing, for me at least. Does wearing pink and frills and ruffles suddenly take you from tranny to sissy?
It’s a word I have never really got a handle on, sissy. What does it mean? In the straight world I suppose it is a derogatory term, for an effeminate, perhaps weak man. But in the gay world it seems to have a different connotation. It is a role that can be adopted with pride, where you embrace your submissive feminine role, enjoy it, thrive on it, flaunt it, yes, certainly flaunt it, and want to be dominated, and perhaps pampered. Well, I suppose that was me, to a degree anyway, given the right circumstances, and with the absolute essential of being dressed in rubber finery of course. Rubber tranny, rubber sissy, it didn’t really matter, but I had arrived there.
Anyway, that was how I was going to be dressed for the club, but I was now more than content to be the belle of the ball. Oh yes, I had come a long way from that night when Ryan and I had first met.
We dressed simultaneously, each helping the other, I was already shivering with anticipation when I had seen what he had selected for me, and was delighted that Ryan was going tranny as well. We would surely have them breathless when we entered the club. We took our time, savouring each garment, the cling, the look, the aroma. First the rubber foundation corselettes, which were so body-hugging at the waist, and with voluptuous matching sets of boobs. These took a while to get laced into and we were both a little out of breath by the time we were satisfied with our not-quite-hourglass contours. As they were so tight we had to help each other with our stockings and I could feel myself start going hard as Ryan eased the shocking pink rubber up my legs. He playfully slapped my buttocks as he attached the stockings to the suspenders.
I reciprocated with his stockings, but they were in jet black. We both have pretty shapely legs, not too muscled but with fine curves. Panties were next and here we bifurcated again, his were plain black with white edging, but with a well located hole in the rear, and mine, well mine were shocking pink, with layers of horizontal white frills, and two holes at crotch and rear.
Once on, after a gasp of excitement from me, I gingerly pulled my cock and ringed balls through the front. Sure it looked a bit strange but all I was trying to do was stay calm and not come right there. Ryan tucked his cock and balls away, but there was a serious mound there now as he was not going to wear a sheath. We both wore shoulder length gloves, his black and mine again bright pink, and we took our time making sure there were no creases.
And here I noticed that the thickness of the rubber garments were different. While the corselette was thick and unyielding, the gloves and stockings were thin and stroked my skin. The dresses were again a contrast in styles. Ryan was to play the role of the dom, it appeared; all in black, skirt knee length, tight waist, sleeves to the wrists and a high collar. I helped him into his, pulling up the zip, the rubber over his boobs stretched skin-tight. Then he held up mine, with a pretty proud look on his face.
It was certainly different, and it was very girly, definitely sissy in the generally accepted sense.
The dress was shocking pink, with deep red and white frills at the high collar, the elbow-length sleeves and the hem. The skirt portion was the really interesting thing. It was rather like a tutu, flared to mid-thigh and made of a series of layers of rubber, I counted five of them, each layer shorter than the one underneath. The under layers were in white, with the top layer being pink, and it gave the effect of a series of petticoats. It was at the same time, innocent (pink and white) and salacious, showing off my shapely thighs.
“Hmm, have to get those under control.” He quickly got my male chastity tube and waited patiently for me to soften – which took a while - then quickly slid my cock down the tube and carefully ratcheted the steel ring round the base of my cock and my scrotum and over the ring that held me permanently captive there. I was now truly locked in and a bit disappointed in all this as I had hoped that as it was my birthday I would get some action that night. But I stayed patient, as I knew Ryan was always one step ahead of me. The dress was voluminous enough that the chastity device was undetectable under the many layers of pink and white rubber. Then we stepped into matching 4 inch pumps, his black and mine pink and with an attached locking ankle strap, just to enforce by subjugation.
Before applying our make-up and wigs we had a couple of minutes of caressing and kissing, which was wonderful, our fake breasts crushed together as we embraced. But I was really frustrated with the cock sheath, as I was starting to harden again, nonetheless I held my tongue.
I was quite the expert at make-up now and applied mine quickly, knowing exactly the effect I wanted, matching the pink attire with pink lipstick, and quite light make-up. I helped Ryan with his, and chose much more striking colours, deep red for the lips and dark eye shadow, to match his dom role. Before we applied the wigs, Ryan produced a velvet box and proudly opened it, showing me the contents.
“I’m really disappointed that you won’t have your ears pierced yet, it’s very common now, but we’ll wait if you want. In the meantime however” he chuckled, “I thought these clip-ons would work just fine.” I wasn’t going to argue, at least then, with the piercings, but inspected the ear rings. They were gold, I was sure, and round, about an inch and a half in diameter. They weren’t rings exactly but what could be described as a solid coin or medallion. I looked at one side and it was a front view of a head. That is a head encased in a full head gas mask with a corrugated tube extending from the mouth and two narrower tubes from the nostril area and over the shoulder, heavy duty stuff I thought. I gasped and turned it over, and on the other side, under a pair of hand cuffs was the inscription, “Don, A Proud and Eternal Rubber Slave.”
Hhmm, dressed as I was I was hardly in a position to argue, and wouldn’t have anyway. I simply smiled and kissed him lightly, just brushing his lipsticked lips with mine, and he clipped them on each ear. They were surprisingly heavy and must have cost a bomb. But I immediately liked the feel of them brushing my neck as they twirled on their own axis. And who would he have got to do the beautiful detailed engraving, I thought? He truly was a man of mystery to me.
Finally came the wigs and I chose my favourite mouse coloured bob which only partly shielded my ear rings. Ryan donned a jet black pageboy, he really did look the part of the tough dom. I was just dying for him to fuck me, but it was not to be it seemed, not for now anyway.
Then he took a short strip of pink rubber, like a sash or belt, about two feet long and three inches wide and told me to cross my hands in front of me. I did so and he wrapped the sash a couple of times round my wrists, then pulled them together and tied them off in a big bow. The rubber was not tight and I could have wriggled out of it in seconds. But that wasn’t the point. He was sending a message. I was a rubber sub, a rubber sissy I suppose, his rubber slave and I wasn’t of a will to escape, for this is what I wanted, to be exhibited as his willing captive, in form-fitting rubber, for him to do with as he wished. And I was comfortable with that.
Finally he draped a heavy ankle-length rubber cape of matching pink with white polka dots over my shoulders, and pressed the single stud at my collar, leaving my front open and allowing everyone a good view of my mild bondage. Then he attached a short chain to the ring at the collar stud, so it would be clear that I was still very much his property, which of course by now, after all these months of subtle training and programming, was what I craved.
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