Skirting the issue


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Chapter 1

It was an innocuous comment. Sick with the heat and humidity of New Delhi that made my heavy jeans stick to my legs,  I told Sunny, “You girls are lucky you can wear skirts.”

She lifted her head from Cosmopolitan magazine she had been reading and stared at me. It was one of those cold, unflinching stares she gave when I annoyed her.

Sunny is my live-in girlfriend. She is a top marketing executive for an American beverage company and I think she is the prettiest girl in the world. But then, I am in love.

Sunny is not very tall. She stands some 5 feet 4 without her heels, and man does she love those heels. She has a massive collection of those in the wardrobe upstairs. She wears her jet black hair straight and long and spends hours on her makeup. Today, she was curled up on the sofa in a flowery white mini skirt that showed her legs, and a purple sleeveless top. Her lips were done in a bright red matte lipstick and her beautiful round eyes, beautified with mascara and kohl, were staring at me with disdain.

“You, Ravi, are a condescending male chauvinist pig,” she said.

I immediately cast my eyes down, not wanting to antagonize her further. Let’s us just say I was a little scared of Sunny on days like this and she knew it.

“Ever since you were fired from your content editing job you’ve been sitting at home and whining. You haven’t paid your half of the rent in two months. I think it’s time to change some things around here, starting with your attitude,” she fumed.

“I am sorry Sunny, I didn’t mean to….”

“Shut up. Since you feel we girls are lucky we can wear skirts, you’re gonna spend this day in one. And I think it’s time you did your part in maintaining the house. Go upstairs, grab the cream pleated skirt from the top shelf and wear it. After that, you will mop the floors and dust the house. Is that clear?”

“Ye, ye, yes Sunny,” I stammered as I rushed upstairs to do her bidding.

I found the knee-length skirt and put it on, discarding my Levis and my underwear. I must have looked ridicoulous, wearing a blue round-neck T-shirt and the feminine skirt as I went down barefoot on the carpeted staircase. I paused at the bottom step as Sunny apprised me.


She gestured with a manicured finger, asking me to twirl. I went red in the cheeks as I turned around and the skirt exposed my nakedness.

“Nice, you skipped the panties. Well, I don’t have any panties in your size yet, but that’s fine as this will give me access to you bottom sweetheart,” she smirked.

“Besides, that erection tells me somebody likes being in a skirt,” she said, pointing at the tent in my skirt.

I blushed again. “I guess I’ll start mopping now Sunny,” I whispered.

“Not so fast young lady,” Sunny spat. “I quite like the way the skirt shows off your figure, especially your waist and your butt, but those hairy legs, ewww. Go to the bathroom and shave those legs pronto,” she ordered.

“But, but..” I protested. “What will everyone say?”

“No one cares honey. Besides it’s not like you’ve been going out in shorts these days, obsessed that you are with your jeans. Anyway, it’s in fashion these days to be hairless.”

I quietly nodded and went to do her bidding.

When I reappeared, Sonia made me demurely lift the skirt further up to show the shaved legs and whistled. “Wow, we have a winner here. I think I am going to keep you in skirts from now on at home.”

I sighed and began my chores.

To be continued…

Feminized in the jungle


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jungle girlPrologue

“Mayday, mayday, mayday!”

Those were the last words I recalled before blacking out.

My plane, a plush Learjet 60 business jet had been cruising over the Amazon jungles of Bolivia, when everything went black.

My name is Lou, and I was the terrified trainee co-pilot while the pilot, the attractive Captain Laura Lee had been on the controls. Our passengers included Cindy Striker, former supermodel-turned CEO of cosmetic giant Baby Lean and her secretary Eva.

“Missile, we’ve been hit by a missile,” Lee screamed hysterically as the plane nosedived and I soon blacked out.

When I came to, I was in pain. My back hurt, my knees and elbows were scraped and most of my uniform was in tatters. Amazingly, those were my only injuries. I looked up to see the three ladies staring at me with concern.

“I’m okay,” I said, putting up a brave face.

“It’s a miracle that we’re all alive,” said Lee, and everyone nodded in agreement. The others seemed to have suffered barely a scratch while the plane was literally in two pieces.

Lee was a stunning looking woman whose personality and demeanour oozed confidence. She was a Chinese-American woman, with long straight black hair and typical sharp features. Her ample bosom was very evident as it strained against the tight uniform shirt supported by a slim waist and an erect posture.

We had a CEO in our midst but Lee had immediately assumed charge. “Our radio is broken and there is no cell phone coverage here,” she said, matter-of-factly.

The blonde Cindy looked the most upset, her make-up in tatters, face stained by tears, and her pink mini-skirt and matching coat dirty. As she sobbed, her pretty Latin-American secretary Eva comforted her, running her hand through Cindy’s blonde hair.

Clearly, she was more than just a secretary, I thought.

Diary Note

Day 5

It has been five days in this wretched jungle. We seem to be surrounded by some moat that is infested with crocodiles, snakes and deadly piranha fish. There is a safe water body nearby for drinking water and we found fruits to eat but no sign of any rescue attempt. The radio is broken and Lee says it can’t be fixed. We’re are stranded in the middle of the jungle and we can’t get out. This is a nightmare. Lee says we were probably shot down by rebels or a drug cartel. It’s scary.

Day 11

Jessica-Szohr-SoBe-LifeWater-Skinsuit-Photo-Shoot3-CustomWent for a swim in the water body. When I came out my tattered clothes were gone. Lee said a monkey probably took it. I suspected mischief by Lee or Eva but didn’t say anything. As I stood there naked, and cowering and trying to protect my modesty from three women, Lee came and threw a dress at me. “Put it on,” she said, matter of factly. I complied. Lee scared me. Besides I didn’t have a choice. It was that or stay naked.

It was a summery light green and white frock with flowers and petals. It belonged to Cindy and it was pretty. I loved the soft fabric.

Eva and Cindy giggled when they saw me. I went red in the face but ignored them. Lee didn’t seem bothered as she focused on sharpening a stick with her knife.

Day 13

Still no sign of any rescue. Lee killed two rabbits today. They were delicious. I accompanied her on the hunt, pretending to be useful. I can’t stand blood. The only clothes that had survived the crash were from Cindy’s fancy suitcase. But boy did she have a collection. The ladies had dressed me up in a red skirt and white blouse today. They seemed to be enjoying these dress-up games. The feminine clothes gave me a hard-on and unfortunately the ladies noticed and teased me about it. It was really embarrassing.


Day 35

The girls decided I need a makeover. It seems that the only thing that survived the crash are Cindy’s clothes and tonnes of her cosmetics. The girls fussed over me, brushed my hair, painted my nails a bright red and made me put on lipstick and mascara. Then they oohed and aahed and teased me while I hid my face in my hands. I was wondering why I was letting them do this to me. When the rescuers come, I’d be so embarrassed. I guess I like this being a girl thing.


Day 45

Walked in on Cindy and Eva making love behind some bushes. They were furious. Eva wrestled me to the ground and spanked me till tears came out of my eyes. She then made me beg forgiveness by kneeling and kissing her and Cindy’s feet. Later that night she came and kissed my cheek and told me she hated spanking me but I needed a lesson. I sobbed and told her it would never happen again. She smiled and said I was one of the girls now, and probably the prettiest of the lot. I went to sleep with a warm feeling inside.

Day 46

Lee completed the hut using part of the plane’s body. At least it’ll protect us from the sun and the rain. She was so happy after completing it that she lifted me in the air. Gosh. I was so embarrassed. I marvelled at her strength.

Day 53

I spent the day tied to a tree. Depressed at no sign of a rescue, I had run towards the moat to jump in and kill myself. Lee chased me and tackled me. She then dragged me back to camp and tied my wrists to a branch or a tree. I spend the day on my knees, my hands tied crossed above me, my face stained with tears and mascara, and my pretty dress dirty in the grass and mud.

Day 54


I spend the night on the floor next to Lee’s bed, my wrists bound to the makeshift bed. In the morning Lee made me promise I won’t try to kill myself. She untied me but made a shackle for my ankles not allowing a lot of play. As I hobbled around the camp doing chores, my mood improved.

Day 66

It was a glorious day. The sun was out. The birds were singing. And I was out looking for firewood in a bright red flowing skirt and a white silk top. As I admired my red nails shining in the sunlight, I heard Lee sneak up behind me. She had been keeping an eye on me since the suicide bid, keeping my ankles hobbled, still tying me up to the bed at night. I turned with a smile and she grabbed me and pushed me against the nearest tree trunk. Then, holding my wrists above me, she kissed me. A full, deep throated kiss, probing my teeth with her tongue, tasting my lipstick, leaving me weak in the knees. There was a churning in my stomach as this gorgeous creature left me thunderstruck and made me moan. “You are the prettiest, most feminine girl in the group, you know,” she whispered in my year. I shuddered with pleasure.


She then undid the buttons of my dress and the dress dropped to the ground, leaving me naked and blushing. My hands immediately went to cover my non-existent breasts instead of the raging hard-on and Lee giggled. “You even think like a girl,” she said in that syrupy voice of hers.

Lee gently lowered me to the ground and untied my hobbled ankles. She then started kissing me all over, sucking on my nipples and nibbling my ear. As I writhed and moaned on the grass, she got up, dropped her own dress and mounted me in one smooth action, making me gasp.

She then pinned my hands above me and started moving, every thrust eliciting a gasp from me and a moan from her. She was wet and warm and though she was very strong, she was gentle with me. We both exploded with monstrous climax and fell into a deep, sweet sleep.

Day 71

Life suddenly doesn’t seem all that bad. Lee doesn’t tie me up anymore, unless we’re making love. We’re just a bunch of girls who spend the day combing each other’s hair, painting nails or gossiping. I being the youngest and probably the most girly as Lee says, end up following most of the orders. Eva and Cindy even tease me, calling me the maid or the slave girl, making me do chores, giving them pedicures and massages. Our hopes have dimmed for that elusive rescue. In this thick, hostile jungle, in the middle of a war, it may be years before we’re found.

Day 200

Dear diary. Sorry for writing after such a long time. A lot has happened in between. Last week, Lee proposed to me. She made a ring of grass, and went down on her knees around our camp fire and asked me to be her wife. Naturally, I immediately said yes. And yesterday was the happiest day of my life. I got married.

Lee looked stunning in her pilot uniform, wearing those aviator glasses, while the girls dug out a fancy white cocktail dress from Cindy’s trunk. It wasn’t a wedding dress but it was still beautiful. The girls made us pretty, did our nails and our makeup and we took our vows.


Lee then took me to a cave she had found near the water and carried me over the threshold. She stripped me and tied my wrists with a soft silk ribbon from the dress and we made wild passionate love as husband and wife.

Day 201

Today, while the others were busy, I slipped out to a clearing where Lee had marked SOS, Help Us in the mud in giant letters. I quietly rubbed it all off. I don’t plan on going anywhere.


The Arranged Marriage


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By Sheena Sands

This story begins with my marriage. My name was Neil and I was a slim, good-looking software professional in New Delhi, India who had just turned 25, and I was starting to face pressure to get married from my parents.

Arranged marriage is big in India. Couples often don’t get to choose or woo their partners but end up having a partner thrust upon them by their elders.

I faced a similar story. The bride my parents chose was a beautiful girl called Rita, who was a very successful investment banker.

Rita was a dusky beauty with large eyes, a slender frame, a cute and small nose and a beautiful smile. She looked like a model in her heels and loved showing her long sexy legs in short skirts.

Anyway, so there I was, married, to a girl about whom I knew virtually nothing, except that she was very pretty and successful. I later found out she was also strong-willed and dominating. On the wedding night, instead of finding a coy bride waiting for me in the bedroom, I found a slightly drunk, horny woman who literally attacked me and tore my clothes off. Not that I minded. But yes, she took the lead very early in the relationship. But her real personality only came out a few months later.

It first happened on our honeymoon. As we lay naked on the bed, she decided I needed a feminine makeover. “You look so pretty Neil, I want to see how you look like a girl,” she said.

She brushed my protests aside, and applied make-up on my face. A foundation was used for my skin tone and then blush-on, eye-shadow, mascara etc. She also attached false eye lashes and applied a generous coat of red lipstick on my lips. I must have looked very nice because Rita said I looked gorgeous and was turning her on. Needless to say, that transformation led to one steamy round of love-making. But that was the end of it and Rita didn’t mention my transformation again, for a few months at least.


Some months later, Rita got a lucrative job offer in the United States. She grabbed it. Considering it paid so well, I decided to sacrifice my job and we moved to Atlanta. As Rita settled into her new job, I played house husband till I could get a job here in the US.

It turned out that Rita liked me in this role. She took to punishing me for chores not done or for anything that displeased her. Spankings were soon dished out. I took it all, my submissive nature not allowing me to protest. And being jobless and dependent on Rita, I wasn’t going to risk anything.

One day she was so displeased with my dusting, she pulled my shorts down right there, put me across her lap and spanked me, making me plead for mercy. That day she kept me naked in the house with my wrists bound together in front. Things were looking bad for me. It seemed like I hadn’t got a wife, Rita had got a slave.


That night, after we had a sex session, she told me, “Neil, I think the roles in our relationship have reversed. I wear the pants in the family so I only think it’s fair that you wear the skirts.”

I looked at her flummoxed.

“Don’t look so surprised. We both know how feminine and submissive you are. And you do look so pretty dressed up. So from now I want you to be the wife and look pretty for me. And since you hardly go out of the house or meet anyone, no one will ever know.”

I protested. I cried. I pleaded. But there was no changing her mind. In fact she got angry with my whining and slapped me. Then she made me wear her blue satin nighty and told me to sleep on the floor as punishment.


I spent a sleepless light in the cold floor, tossing and turning and strangely, relishing the soft feel of the nighty.

My transformation had begun.

Chapter 2

The next morning was a Sunday and after I made tea for Rita dressed in that ultra feminine nighty, she made me use a hair removing cream to clean all my body hair. As I stood in front of her after a shower, naked, hairless and shamed, she seemed delighted.

She started with the nail polish. She made me kneel down naked and gave me a bottle of a spectacular maroon nail polish and told me to paint my toe nails. I meekly started doing her bidding. She used to often make me paint her nails and give her pedicures and I had become very good at it. Soon my toe nails were bright maroon and glistening in the light.


“Good,” she said. “Now, for the make-up.” She started with my face, telling me to pay attention as I had to learn and do this myself. She rubbed the cream and foundation lovingly, hiding any blemishes. The eyes got extra love with eye shadow, mascara, eyeliner. Apparently, I have beautiful eyes. And the lipstick was bright red and shiny. The nails on the hand were drone in a cherry red shade to match the lips.


“Ooh, pretty, pretty,” she giggled but didn’t let me see the mirror.


This was followed by a purple bra-panty and a cream-coloured, silky smooth chemise. What came over it was stunning. It was what we call a lehenga in India. It included a half-sleeve blouse which shows your cleavage and leaves the mid-riff exposed and a heavy, a beautifully embroidered ankle-length skirt that starts from below the navel. It was red with golden embroidery and it was just beautiful.


“This dress is a special treat since it’s your first day as the wife,” Rita said. “From tomorrow, it will be normal dresses.”

Then came the accessories and jewelry. Some gold bangles for both wrists. Golden hoop earrings (which were clip-ons) and some golden anklets on both feet that jingled. She even but a hair-band on my head.


“The bangles and anklets are a symbol of your new feminine identity and your servitude to me. These are my bonds you wear now,” she announced.

I just looked at the floor meekly.

Finally, when she showed me the mirror, I couldn’t believe it. Staring at me was a beautiful Indian bride. Looking at me, no one, and I mean no one, would have thought I was a boy then. My heart suddenly started beating faster and I felt a little giddy. Never had I thought I could make such a beautiful girl.

Rita looked at me and squealed with delight. “I knew it. I always knew it. You were meant to be a girl. I can see it in your eyes. Now kneel down and thank me.”

kiss feet

I kneeled and kissed her feet, leaving a lipstick mark.

That entire day, she took lots of photos and videos of me as I went about my chores and er wifely duties.

But I sensed a change in Rita’s behaviour. Suddenly, she seemed softer towards me, even a little affectionate.

She was no longer screaming at me. Every now and then she would come and tease me. As I stood in the kitchen chopping vegetables, she came up from behind and cupped my ass, and ran her hands down my legs, leaving me aroused.

When I was dusting, the living room full of the sound of my bangles and anklets, she came out of nowhere, pushed me against a wall, and held my wrists over my head and gave me a deep wet kiss that left me shivering.

Clearly, my new look was turning her on and seemed to be doing some nice things to our marriage.

Meanwhile, I can’t say I was not affected by this transformation. In fact, I was loving it. The feel of the soft chemise and the freedom of the skirts was just exhilarating. The sound of my own anklets was exciting me and  every time I looked down, my feet looked so pretty. What was happening to me? It looked like I had a pretty girl hidden inside all this while.

That night, it wasn’t a crude fuck that Rita normally subjected me to. We made love. Only difference was that I was the woman, the wife being made love to. Rita was tender and loving, even though she tied my wrists to the bed, she left me helpless and whimpering as she played with my body, my nipples, my lips. I could taste her lipstick as she kissed me and smell her perfume as she played with my hard dick that she kept calling my vagina. She even used a finger to er pop my cherry. That night I had the best orgasm of my life. And I rested my head on her bosom, exhausted and content, I went off to a contented sleep with a smile on my face. I guess I was happy for the first time in ages.



Life changed for me and Rita from that day. As we swapped gender roles, we discovered love. From Neil I became Mona and I was the new wife. I kept myself pretty and dolled up for Rita and she played the master and the husband. That’s not to say she became masculine. She was as hot and sexy as ever. But she pampered me with gifts, flowers, cosmetics. Yes, she retained her love for BDSM. And I often found myself in various states of bondage, left tied up naked, or spending a day handcuffed or even chained to the bed as my mistress made love to me. But I had fallen in love with all this. And her. Life was starting to look good.

Dressed for sucksess – A comic


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A forced feminization comic

A forced feminization comic

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Some content on this page was disabled on November 7, 2016 as a result of a DMCA takedown notice from TFFI Productions, LLC. You can learn more about the DMCA here:
Some content on this page was disabled on November 7, 2016 as a result of a DMCA takedown notice from TFFI Productions, LLC. You can learn more about the DMCA here:
Some content on this page was disabled on November 7, 2016 as a result of a DMCA takedown notice from TFFI Productions, LLC. You can learn more about the DMCA here:
Some content on this page was disabled on November 7, 2016 as a result of a DMCA takedown notice from TFFI Productions, LLC. You can learn more about the DMCA here:
Some content on this page was disabled on November 7, 2016 as a result of a DMCA takedown notice from TFFI Productions, LLC. You can learn more about the DMCA here:
Some content on this page was disabled on November 7, 2016 as a result of a DMCA takedown notice from TFFI Productions, LLC. You can learn more about the DMCA here:
Some content on this page was disabled on November 7, 2016 as a result of a DMCA takedown notice from TFFI Productions, LLC. You can learn more about the DMCA here:
Some content on this page was disabled on November 7, 2016 as a result of a DMCA takedown notice from TFFI Productions, LLC. You can learn more about the DMCA here:
Some content on this page was disabled on November 7, 2016 as a result of a DMCA takedown notice from TFFI Productions, LLC. You can learn more about the DMCA here:
Some content on this page was disabled on November 7, 2016 as a result of a DMCA takedown notice from TFFI Productions, LLC. You can learn more about the DMCA here:
Some content on this page was disabled on November 7, 2016 as a result of a DMCA takedown notice from TFFI Productions, LLC. You can learn more about the DMCA here:



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I didn’t see him at first. I heard him. I heard the jingling of bells on his feet when he gingerly approached the door to answer the bell.

“Hello,” he said shyly, softly.

“Hi. My name is Gina. My car broke down, can I use your phone,” I asked.

“Sure, please come in,” he said, a tad reluctantly.

I checked him out as I entered. He was slim, his black hair was cut short but came over the years, a little like the Sharon Stone look and he wore silver earrings in both ears. He was dressed in a white vest-like top and pink shorts, and he wore a pair of silver bangles on his left wrist. He had thick silver anklets with bells onthem on his bare feet and both feet had a toe-ring each. There was also a hint of pale pink nail polish on the toes. anklets

He saw me checking him out and he blushed red.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare,” I said.

“That’s okay,” he replied meekly.

“It’s just that you’re so pretty,” I added.

He blushed again, and smiled.

As I pretended to dial the phone, he asked, “Would you like some tea while you wait for your tow-service?” “That would be great Mr er..”


“That would be great Sam,” I beamed at him.

Clearly, he was uncomfortable with my presence. The fidgeting gave him away.

I followed him to the kitchen, startling him. “You don’t have to help,” he said earnestly. “Why don’t you wait in the living room and I’ll get you your tea?”

I brushed aside his protests. “Nonsense. I’ll give you a hand. Or at least give you some company.” He shrugged and started doing his work. He seemed natural in the kitchen. Working smoothly, neatly. The only sound being the jingle of his bangles or anklets.

“So, what does your husband do,” I asked.

There was a sharp intake of breath. “I, er, I don’t have a husband. I’m straight.”

“So, you’re just a sissy?”

He ignored me. “Would you like sugar in your tea?”

I moved closer to him. He involuntarily took a step back. I held his chin and brought his face up for eye contact. “Answer the question sissy,” I said sternly.

His lips were quivering with fear. I could spot a touch of lip gloss on them. “Please, you must leave miss,” he whispered.

I slapped him.

He started sobbing. “Yes I’m a sissy. My girlfriend keeps me like this. I’m her sissy slave. Are you satisfied?”

“So you’re subservient to all women,” I smirked. “Yes miss.” “Then bend down and kiss my feet slave girl.” He immediately complied. Bending down and showering my heels with kisses. te“Good girl. Now, if I tell you I want a good fuck, will you do it?” He looked shocked. “No miss. Not without permission from my mistress.” “What if I whip you?” “No miss,” he sobbed. “Okay fine. I admire your loyalty. Let’s have some tea in the living room and I’ll leave.” He looked relieved. In the living room, I made him stay on his knees while I finished my tea leisurely. Then I took out my cell and made a call. “Hello, Maria? He passed the test.” “Yes, he’s loyal to you but a completely subservient sissy. You have a winner.” “Yes, you can speak to him.” He looked shocked. The stranger who had just stopped in his house had just made a call to his mistress. “Hello honey. I’m so proud of you,” Maria told him on the phone. “Thank you mistress,” he said, his voice quivering. “There’ll be a reward for you today, but before that you have to follow everything Mistress Gia tells you to do, okay?” “Yes mistress.” #click* “What do you want me to do mistress,” he asked with his puppy eyes, his voice full of dread. “Don’t worry girl,” I said. “I’m not here to punish you. I’m just gonna turn you into a pretty girl for your mistress.”   average END of PART 1  

Planet of the Slaves – II


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[RECAP: Our hero’s spaceship has landed on an alien planet where he is stripped and captured by a beautiful and strong woman clad in very few clothes.]

She led me for a few hours till we reached a river. In fact, it was the presence of water on this planet which had prompted our mission. A little further on, we came across a cave. Little did I know that this was to become my home for the next year or two.

On reaching the cave, she tethered her animal to a tree and using the rope leading from my wrists, tied it to an adjoining tree. All this
while, I was trying to find a way out of my predicament. There wasn’t much I could do, naked and bound that I was. And clearly, this goddess-like alien was more powerful than me in terms of strength. I wondered if she was a freak or were all aliens so strong here. I prayed that it was a one-off case. The woman came to me in a while and placed a bowl of water and another bowl of some kind of porridge in front of me and taking off my gag, beckoned me to eat.

With my wrists tightly bound and no sign of a spoon, I guessed rightly that that I had to eat like an animal. However, I was so famished and thirsty that I immediately knelt down and started wolfing the food while my captor looked on, almost lovingly. After eating to my heart’s content, she gagged me again, after which I fell into a deep sleep. Maybe she mixed something in the food or maybe it was just exhaustion. But when I woke up, it was evening and she standing over me and observing me.

When she saw I was awake, she untied from the tree and led me to the river behind the cave. Here she tied the rope to a slim rock and grabbing me by the arm took me into the water. Here my beautiful captor proceeded to bathe me. While it was embarrassing enough to be bathed naked by a woman while you are helpless, my penis didn’t show any signs of embarrassment and at her touch sprang erect. She looked at me knowingly, even nodded. She then proceeded to put some ointment on me in the river and I saw all my body hair was immediately washed away. I felt even more naked and vulnerable. She then took me back and instead
of tying me to a tree, took me inside the cave.

It was a beautiful cave with various animal skins over the floor. She had even made some racks and utensils with wood and placed them in the cave. Here she tethered me to a wall and bought some kind of bright, thick red liquid and a brush. She sat down beside me and surprisingly began painting my nails. What was she doing I wondered and made some noises of protest from my gagged mouth, but she just shushed me and an hour later I had gleaming, bright red finger and toe nails. She then used some similar ointment to redden my lips.


The woman then bought out a some animal skins. One skin was wrapped around my lower body like a
skirt and another, similar to hers was placed around my chest, covering the nipples. I knew that between the two of us, I was definitely the weaker sex, but I didn’t know it would come to this. I was looking as feminine and pretty as any of the girls I had crushes on.

Before I continue, some facts about me. While any other male might have been horrified at my present state, I was quite excited. Back on Earth, I was a closet cross-dresser and this was just a heavenly experience for me. I had never felt so effeminate before.

Dear readers, pardon the abrupt interruption, but I am going to move to some months ahead now.

My past six months with Mistress Moonlight (yes that was her name) had its moments. From what little she had taught me of her language, the first thing I learnt was that I was her slave and had to address her as mistress. I was on the planet Whor, where women were the stronger sex and men were slaves. They were even kept and reared like wild animals or just hunted and captured in jungles by slave-traders. My effeminate attire was what all slaves here wore, as were the metal anklets on my feet. Even the red nail polish was a symbol of slavery.

My mistress gradually trained me to be her effeminate slave. I soon learned to cook and clean and take care of mistress’s needs. I had to kiss her feet in the morning and night and whenever she asked me to. I was whipped when she wanted to punish me. She would chain me or tie to a tree naked and use a leather whip on my butt till I was screaming for mercy or begin crying.


The best part about being her slave was that she made me feel like a woman. Vulnerable, weak and totally in her control. She introduced me to sex the Whor way a few days after my capture. This was how the ritual went: I was supposed to stand in front of her, undo my leather skirt and then kneel down at her feet with my hands crossed behind me. She would then take some rope and tie my wrists behind me. She even had a small chain which she used to link the metal anklets, which had been sealed on my ankles, providing barely five inches of play between the ankles. After this, she put a crudely fashioned dildo into my mouth, kept in place with leather straps. I now had to use my mouth to make love. Apparently, Mistress loved my technique a lot and this humiliating, and uncomfortable ritual was performed every night.


After her orgasm, she would ungag me and make me lick her clean of her juices. She would then leave me on the floor with my wrists tied behind and my ankles chained for the entire night.

And no, I was not allowed to touch myself or masturbate. This was only allowed when a Whor woman wanted a child from a slave. That was the only time we got any pleasure. Yes I had become her slave, or rather her slave girl.

Copyright Sheena Sands

Planet of the slaves (Part 1)


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By Sheena Sands


My head felt like it had been crushed by Japanese sumo wrestler and when I opened my eyes, the sunlight made my eyes hurt. As I gained consciousness, I realised that I didn’t know where I was. I was wearing a torn spacesuit, my feet were bare and I was lying in a lush green forest of some kind.

I sat up and concentrated hard, and slowly, things started coming back. I was a passenger on the space shuttle Pioneer. We were on a mission to probe the moon Titan of the planet Saturn, where traces of life had been found by some earlier unmanned space probes.

Other than four crew members, the passengers aboard the shuttle included me — a 26-year-old blond, good-looking male from California. I was a scientist, an MIT graduate, who was involved in NASA’s space research programme and my focus was extra-terrestrial life. The only other passenger was the beautiful Heather, also a scientist. She was from Canada and I had a huge crush on her.

As the recent turn of events aboard the shuttle unfurled in my memory, all I could recall was that the Pioneer was probably hit by something during landing because all I felt was a sudden jerk and then I blacked out, regaining consciousness only moments ago.

As I looked around, one thing was sure, I was on some alien planet which supported some sort of life. There were beautiful and exotic
plants and trees everywhere, the type I had never seen before and the fact that I was breathing obviously meant that the atmosphere held oxygen. Or maybe, I was dead and in paradise? I laughed this thought off and decided to start a search for the shuttle crew and Heather.

The next few hours were spent in fruitless search. I could find neither any sign of the crew or the shuttle. After some time my hunger became unbearable and I thought I might as well risk tasting some alien fruit. Another search began, this time for food, and some hours of hard labour bore fruit, literally. For, near a clearing I saw a beautiful and massive tree from which hung hundreds of yellow-coloured fruit bearing a striking resemblance to mangoes. However, as I stepped near the tree, a net-like thing suddenly enveloped me and I felt myself rising in the air. Scared to death I let out a scream. I was trapped.


It was something like a hunter’s net and I had obviously walked into a trap. It was quite uncomfortable and I could not move any of my limbs.

However my hopes were raised from the fact that this could only be the work of intelligent life. A million thoughts went through my head: Maybe I would be rescued; what if they were cannibals; what if nobody ever came and I was left like this. Just as I began to lose hope, she arrived.

She was nothing like the ugly, green monsters they show on TV. In fact, she was a goddess. Maybe I really was in paradise.

Please bear with me while I describe this thing of incredible beauty. She was dressed in some kind of animal skin. A small leather strip just about covered her bulging breasts and a thong-like loincloth, if I may call it that, covered her privates. Yep, she looked as human as any of us, the only difference being she looked like a gorgeous Victoria Secret’s model.


She came riding an animal… it looked like a cross between a horse and a very short camel (lets call it Corsal). And this scantily dressed beauty carried a humongous sword in her left hand, while holding the reigns in her right. She was tall, taller than my 5 foot 7 frame; she was slim and had beautiful feet were encased in some kind of leather moccasins. Her hair was lush, long and black and bounced when she rode her animal. In fact, if anyone of you has read the comic Brenda Starr, you can imagine what her hair was like.

Another remarkable feature seemed to be the use of cosmetics and make up. I was amazed by the fact that a primitive looking woman actually had the know how to make and apply the cosmetics. Her lips were pink while her nails were a dark maroon shade. All in all, the woman looked like a cross between Brenda Starr, Cindy Crawford and Wonder Woman. Yep, it was very close to


As soon as she came into view, probably responding to my scream, we both got a shock seeing each other and just stared open-mouthed. She was the first to break the silence as she murmured something in a language I could not comprehend. She repeated the question a couple of times and while I couldn’t make out what she was saying, there was no doubting the authority in her voice. As my hands were trapped in the net, gestures were useless and my English went over her head.

She seemed to be losing patience with me and was getting angry. Anyway, after some agonising minutes she decided enough was enough and hacked down the net, sending me tumbling on the ground. She laughed then, at my attempts to balance myself, a full, throaty laugh, which showed white even teeth.

Grabbing my opportunity, I immediately started a series of gestures trying to explain who I was and where I had come from. She looked at me with a smile, as if a clown was performing and then turned and went to her animal. From the saddle she got some rope and came towards me. Not sure what she was up to, I involuntarily took a few steps back.

However, she suddenly leaped and caught me in a vice-like grip and using the rope tied my wrists together in front of me. I had tried to resist, to struggle, but her strength was amazing. For a beautiful, thin creature she was remarkably strong, probably three times as strong as I, for I could not do anything.

As I struggled with my bonds, she held one end of the rope leading to my wrists so that I could not flee and with the other hand she started to tear off the already torn remnants of my NASA uniform. Suddenly I was standing naked, wrists bound, in front of a beautiful woman. I had never felt so helpless and vulnerable before.

She then led me to her animal which she climbed and she tied the end of the rope to the saddle. So I was going to be dragged behind that weird animal naked and tied up… I just hoped she was not going to gallop.

She was however, not ready yet. Getting some stuff out of her bag on the saddle, she came towards me and put some kind of metal strips on both my ankles. Apparently they were not shackles but rather some kind of anklets which jingled when I walked. In fact, my feet looked rather pretty and feminine in these jewellery-like ornaments. She then proceeded to gag me with a coarse cloth and our journey began.


Needless to say, it was quite a humiliating experience. Here I was naked, bound and gagged, overpowered by just a girl (yes I was a male chauvinist pig), forced to run after her Corsal with my feet making all kinds of sounds from the anklets and my hard penis dangling up and down. What had I stumbled into?

To Be Continued

The Slave Girl of Apocalypse


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By Sheena Sands 

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The year is 2090. Years after a nuclear holocaust ravaged the Earth and
decimated most of the human population, all that is left is a desert
where a handful of armed and aggressive survivors battle each other for
three important resources — fuel, water and women, in that order. In
this primitive atmosphere, women are once again the weaker sex, often
preferred as currency, endangered, enslaved and exchanged. This is one
such woman’s story, if you can call ‘her’ that.
Chapter 1

I was running for my life, panting hard as the hot sand burned my feet.
I was naked, except for the bells on my ankles and the sweat on my body.
I cried as I ran, my shoulder-length blonde hair bouncing in the harsh
desert wind, my breasts juggling and my dick swinging. Yes, my dick. I
was once a man. Perhaps I still am. But it doesn’t matter anymore.
Survival is all that matters.

I stopped near a rock to catch my breath and when I turned around I saw
them. A burly man was driving a run-down jeep, while a young woman
dressed in some kind of body-hugging leather outfit stood on the
passenger seat ready with a rope.

Where did they come from, I thought. I had been on the run for over a
day and had not encountered any sign of life. Suddenly, I felt very
naked and vulnerable. Panic set in and I began running again. But
outrunning a vehicle isn’t that easy.


I am sure I made a pretty picture, running naked, while the sun-tanned
skin on my slender body shone in the daylight, but somehow my focus at
the moment was only escape. The vehicle caught up and was soon driving
alongside, almost as if the driver was playing with me. I tried to dodge
it but there was nowhere to go and I was getting exhausted. From the
corner of my eye I saw the girl start to twirl a lasso over her head.
“God! They’re catching me like cattle,” I thought, just as the rope
encircled me, pinning my arms to the side and making me lose my balance.

As I fell, the young girl sprang from the vehicle, put my wrists behind
me and tied them together and using the same cord, tied my ankles
together. I was trussed like a turkey, and scared out of my wits.


As the man joined the pretty girl, she said, “Look pa, it’s a slave
girl. She’s got them slave anklets on. Looks like we caught ourselves a
runaway, and a purty one at that.”

The man rolled me over with his boot and exclaimed, “Whoa! That’s no
girl. That’s what in the old days used to be called a hermaphrodite.”
“But this one’s different Sue, she ain’t a natural. This one’s been
turned into a girl,” he said with a grin.

They were having a normal conversation as if they’d just caught an
animal. The indifference angered me and I suddenly discovered my tongue.
“Let me go,” I screamed, struggling with my bonds.

Sue, who must not have been more than 17, bent down on one knee and
moved her face close to mine. As she began stroking my hair my heart
started beating louder. She was a beauty and she wore the tattoo of a
free woman. Still, she was treating me like an animal and I lashed out
at her, “Stop this, let me go, bitch.”

Suddenly, she let loose a stinging slap which literally brought tears to
my eyes. “You will learn some manners soon slave girl.” Saying this, the
two pulled me to my feet, untied my ankles and rebound my wrists in
front. Then they took a rope leading from the wrists and tied it to the
vehicle and began driving, dragging me behind.

My position seemed to have worsened. I was still a damsel with a dick,
and apparently I was now a slave girl too. They kept me at a steady trot
for a few hours, stopping only a couple of times to offer me water. No
attempt was made to cover me and I continued behind them, naked and
bound, the only sound being the engine of the vehicle and the clinking
of my slave anklets.

We finally reached what looked like a lonely, desolate ranch. I figured
the man and the beautiful daughter lived alone here. I was dumped in
what was possibly a barn some years back, and my wrists were tied to a
wooden pole. I slumped to the ground, too exhausted and drained to
protest and soon passed out.
Chapter 2

I came to when a bucket of water was splashed on my face. I opened my
eyes to see the girl standing there. She seemed to have changed her
clothes and all she wore was a bikini made out of some rough leather and
some worn out knee-high boots. She also had a whip in her hand.


On seeing the whip, the colour drained from my face. I left all shreds
of dignity and courage behind and prostrated myself in front of her,
kissing her boots. “Please don’t whip me mistress. I’ll do anything,” I

Sue’s features immediately softened. “Maybe I won’t slave girl. First,
tell me your story. How did you come to become this half-man, half-

“Thank you mistress,” I whimpered, tears of relief on my face, and began
my narrative.

“My story started some months ago in a nuclear shelter in what used to
be Arizona. I was born in the shelter and had lived there for ages. When
the last of my family passed away, I decided to move on. I wanted to
explore the world, see what was out there. For a 19-year-old, the lure
of adventure was too strong.”

“So, I packed a bag and set forth southwards. I walked for miles and
miles and for two days didn’t encounter a soul. My water and food
reserves were in danger of running out. On the third day, as I lay to
rest under a cliff, I was jumped by two men, who stole all my
possessions, bound and gagged me and sold me to group of men who lived
some miles ahead in a large fortress-like building.”

“One of the men there was some kind of surgeon. And I later realized,
his specialty was sex realignment surgery. The gang would operate on
young boys, feminize them and sell them to pimps. Women, as you know,
are next only to fuel and water in terms of value these days. This
surgeon had me knocked out unconscious and some days later when I woke
up, I had these ample breasts, had lost all my body hair and even my
lips and eyebrows seemed more feminine. As you can see, he had turned me
into a beautiful woman.”

At this moment, mistress interrupted, “That he did. You’re one of the
prettiest women, or men that I have ever seen.”

I blushed at this, but continued. “They locked these slave anklets on me
and then put me in a small cage. My main surgery was still a few days
away. Two days later, when a man didn’t shut my cage door properly, I
sneaked out at midnight and have been on the run since.”

“Mistress, I continued, please let me go. I am of no use to you. I have
no skills whatsoever.”

Sue took my chin in her hand and said, “Skills can be taught slave girl
and a whip can go a long way in training anyone.”

“Don’t get too many ideas into your pretty head slave,” she continued.
“You belong to me now. Pa has gifted you to me and I can keep you as my
pet. But keeping pets is expensive and you’ll have to earn your keep.”

Saying this, she took off one of her boots and put her foot with bright
maroon-painted nails in front of my face. I took the hint and began
kissed the foot with alacrity.

“Good,” she said, a smirk on her face. “Looks like you may not be too
much trouble after all.”
Chapter 3

Over the next few days, Mistress Sue put me to work in the house. I was
given a tiny leather skirt to wear which barely covered my buttocks and
an equally tiny bikini top which struggled to contain my beautiful


I endured the humiliations quietly. It was, after all, safer here, than
the wasteland outside. Besides, the couple kept me in some kind of
bondage at all times so escape looked very difficult. And those wretched
bells on my feet kept the duo aware of my location at all times.

In just a few days, I had gone from being a young man looking for
adventure to a whimpering female slave subservient to a teenage girl
almost half my size.

On the third night, as I lay naked and bound in the barn, Sue appeared.
She undid my wrists from the pole and bound them behind. “Now give your
mistress some pleasure,” she commanded, laying down in the hay and
spreading her legs.

As I knelt, I could smell her juices and I put my tongue to work. Her
moans told me I was probably doing a good job. Suddenly she stopped me
and to my chagrin, produced a doubled-headed wooden dildo. She stood up
and slowly inserted the dildo into her clit, moaning as she did so, and
beckoned me to start sucking. As I began sucking, I realized I was being
face-fucked by a teenage girl and I was probably enjoying it a bit. My
own erection was massive but a slave’s needs are not important. Soon
Mistress Sue came in an explosive climax and strangely, I felt happy
that I had given her pleasure.

Before she left, she patted my head and said, “You’re ready.”

This left me perplexed and a little anxious, but soon sleep came and
took away the anxiety in a flood of erotic dreams.
Chapter 4

Next morning, Mistress Sue didn’t make me do my chores. Instead she took
me to the well in the ranch and proceeded to scrub me clean, almost like
I was a prize horse.

Then she started making me beautiful. I was puzzled by all the attention
and fussing but frankly was glad for the break from the chores. She
started with the nails. Both my finger and toe nails got two coats of
bright red nail paint. The she rubbed a base on my skin, put some
mascara on my eyes and added some eye shadow. Lastly, my lips were done
in the same shade as the nails. Then she brushed my hair, put some clips
on them and added some dangling round earrings.

The finale was the dress. It was similar to what I was already wearing,
except the material seemed like blue satin and I loved the feel of the
cloth on my skin. Suddenly, I was feeling very feminine. Mistress Sue
told me I was looking gorgeous and I blushed again. But she refused to
let me see a mirror. Slaves don’t get such privileges.
“Well, you’re ready now slave girl. Time to earn your living.” Saying
this showed me the rope and I meekly offered her my wrists and she tied
them together, my red finger nails shining in the sunlight.

She led me with the rope to the stable where she climbed her horse. “I
better save fuel and use the horse today,” she said aloud, and urged the
horse forward, pulling me behind with the rope.

We walked for an hour or so. For some strange reason, the swish and feel
of the satin skirt was feeling heavenly. As I looked down at my
glistening red nails and slave anklets, I reveled in my newfound
feminity and I felt a little giddy. What is happening to me I wondered?

Soon we reached a small outpost where a building that looked liked a
saloon straight out of a western film stood. An armed doorman was at the

“Hey Sue,” he said, “who’s the purty gal?”

“Hey Larry. This here is my slave girl. Pa let me have her. Ain’t she a

“She sure is Sue, but you can’t take her in like that. You know the law.
Slaves can’t go in wearing clothes.”

My face drained of all colour on hearing this. Not only was I losing the
pretty clothes, I was going to be naked in a room full of horny men.
“Please Mistress, let’s go back. Don’t humiliate me,” I whimpered.

She wasn’t moved. “Don’t worry babe. You won’t need your clothes for
what you’re about to do anyway.”

Larry laughed at this remark, but a my heart sank. What was going to
happen inside?
Chapter 5

Mistress stripped me and hung a small board on my neck. She retied my
hands behind my back, put a leash around my neck and we entered inside.
The entire saloon went quiet. I could feel at least 20 pairs of eyes on
me and my legs began to tremble.

One good-looking man, dressed in a long overcoat came towards us. I
could smell whiskey on his breath. I trembled as he brought his face
close and read loudly what was written on the board. “15-MINUTE BLOW JOB

Suddenly the entire saloon burst into loud cheering and clapping and
some men even came and patted Sue on the back while she just grinned.

She took a seat at the bar and someone got her a drink. “Well,” she
looked at me and said, “what are you waiting for girl? Go and offer
yourself to these nice gents.”

While her comments invited more laughter and cheering, I was shocked.
Not only was I expected to give a number of blow jobs, I was expected
to beg for them. I looked at Sue, my eyes pleading, but I could see no
mercy there.

Demoralized and terrified, I went to the good-looking man in the
overcoat with my hands still tied behind. I knelt in front of him and
said with trembling lips, “May I pleasure you master?”

“Of course darling,” he said, releasing his enormous member from the
confines of his trousers. I took a deep breath, enveloped that warm big
phallus with my mouth and began sucking.

The End