Crowning Glory, Part Four

The Dominatrix

Just thirty minutes later, Alice left the plane, escorted by Jessica and Amber. After picking up their luggage, the three got into a cab. Just as Alice was about to give the driver Alex's address, Jessica whispered, "Crowning glory," and the transformed man dropped back into a hypnotic trance.

He awoke in a strange apartment, decorated with a wide array of art and artifacts, all of which were clearly related to sexual domination and role-playing. He tried to stand up and discovered his body wouldn't move.

"Stop struggling," Jessica's voice said from behind him. "You'll hurt yourself."

She moved out in front of him. She was truly dressed like a domme now, in a skin-tight, shiny grey latex gown. It had a high collar and no sleeves, and the way it clung to her every curve made it clear that she wore nothing underneath it. Her hair was piled into a bun and her face was artfully made up. She gestured with the whip she carried. "You're not physically bound, of course," she told him, "but I've given you a post-hypnotic suggestion that you cannot move as long as you look masculine. We stripped you of your little cocktease outfit as soon as we got you here."

"We?" Alex asked.

In answer, Jessica picked up a small bell from the table and rang it. Alex heard some unusual footsteps and then saw Amber mince into the room. She wore a latex bustier and a clear plastic skirt over her latex thong panties. Her arms were bound behind her. She wore a collar that supported a tray that hung by chains in front of her, with a glass of white wine on it.

"Very good, Amber," Jessica said, as she picked up the wine and sipped. "Is everything prepared in the bedroom?"

"Yes, mistress," the bond maid replied.

"Good. Crowning glory." And Alex sank again into unawareness.

SNAP!

Alex awoke, seated on a very delicate vanity chair. He discovered he could move again and when he looked down, he could see why-outwardly, he was Alice once again. He was dressed in a skintight black latex minidress, nylons and black patent pumps with six-inch heels. He couldn't see his face, because the chair was turned away from the mirror.

Just as he was about to turn and look at himself, Jessica stepped in front of him and said, "Uhh-uhh, pretty boy. Not 'til I say you're ready." For the fourth time, she took out a wig box and placed the contents on his head. This time it was a short page-boy, as black as any hair Alex had ever seen, with shining straight bangs and a slight flip at the sides.

"Dominatrix," Jessica said, and a flood of instructions and ideas raged into Alex's mind. Once again, he was Alice--but an Alice completely different from any of the personas who had preceded this one.

"Now you may look," Jessica said. And Alice turned to the mirror, to find her makeup darker and more dramatic than anything she'd worn before, and her eyes a brilliant blue, certain to catch the eye of anyone--male or female--who saw them. "Stand up."

Alice rose. Jessica produced a cigarette holder and a slim women's cigarette. She lit the cigarette and handed the holder to Alice. "Take a drag."

Alice inhaled the hot smoke and a new wave of hypnotic instructions arose in her. "You are dominant over all men and women who submit to you; you long to control them and use them as your playthings. But there is one woman and one woman alone to whom you submit…and that is me, your Mistress Jessica." She breathed in more smoke. "Every puff of smoke you breathe increases your dominant nature. You crave smoking to make you ever more powerful and dominant."

"Amber!" the newly dominant Alice demanded. Instantly, the maid minced into the room.

"Yes, Mistress Alice?" she asked.

"Fetch my cloak and Mistress Jessica's. Find something suitable for yourself-we're going hunting!" Alice grinned and exhaled a long plume of smoke.

One hour later, the three fetish-clad women were seated around a table at The Wall, the premier S/M club in the city…a place Alex had often thought about visiting and now Alice would make her own. Only moments after their arrival, a slight but handsome young man had appeared, bearing drinks for all of them, but clearly most intrigued by Alice.

She noted that his eyes frequently drifted to her long legs perched on the glimmering patent pumps with the extreme heels. "You like my legs?" she asked.

"Yes," he whispered.

"Or do you like my feet?"

"Those too," he admitted.

"Or is it my shoes?" she demanded.

"Oh, yes…." he sighed, as she watched his crotch twitch at the thought.

Alice extended one foot and said, "Well, I think they need shining…spit on that napkin and shine them up for me!" The would-be slave dropped to his knees and began the task. "Look at me!" Alice suddenly demanded.

He looked up--the spotlight over the table caught the startling color of Alice's eyes and the lad found himself lost in them and in the repetitive nature of his task. In time, his hands dropped to his sides. He was completely in Alice's mesmeric spell.

"Wonderful!" Jessica applauded. "I've never seen anyone take to this so easily!" She indicated the still-kneeling young man. "What are you going to do with him?"

"Why, train him and transform him, as you did me," Alice answered.

"What will his key-words be?" Amber asked.

"Listen," Alice replied. She spoke to the boy. "You love my shoes, you worship my shoes, you long to wear shoes just like mine at all times. In a moment, I will snap my fingers and you will awaken, remembering my suggestions to you. But there's a phrase that will return you to this pleasant, arousing state.

"That phrase is: Shoe store!"

And the life of another feminized slave was about to begin!

THE END