The Lost Art of Gift Giving

“Can I make an observation?” Josephine asked as she snapped another photo. Her client was stood between a pair of Christmas Trees wearing a Santa red latex dress with matching stiletto and glossy nylon pantyhose. Usually, her clients ordered her photoshoot experience days as a feminine escape from their mundane masculine existences, but in spite of the layers of cosmetics painting Greg's face into a creature of beauty, he did not look pleased at all. “You don't seem all that happy. Are you not enjoying this? We can try some different outfits if you would prefer?”

“It's that obvious is it?” Greg brushed some blonde locks of his wig from his face and gently rolled his eyes. With makeup contouring on his face and his thick red lips, it looked like little more than a prissy pout. “Look, I don't want to offend, but this really isn't my thing.” He watched the vivacious photographer's face contort with confusion and sighed. “It's my cousins... There are four of us, and we kind of came up with this tradition about 7 or 8 years ago that whatever we received from each other for Christmas had to be used regardless of how we felt about it. We kind of had issues with re-gifting and it was supposed to fix this and teach each of us to be more grateful. That was the intention anyway.” Greg blushed as if remembering his predicament and started to fidget with the petticoat beneath his dress before thinking better of it. “So, after a few years, I kind of started to have some fun with it. I would gift weird embarrassing things, John got a mankini, I got Abigail a whipped-cream enema kit...the one year I got Kacey glow in the dark nipple rings. She didn't realise she had to keep them in for six weeks so they would heal...she had them in for her wedding...”

“So let me guess,” Josephine grinned and started to shoot pictures again. “They teamed up and got you a makeover photoshoot with little old me this year? By the way, what actually is to say you actually have to use the presents? What's to stop you saying no?”

“It is an automatic disinvite from everything, every family event – weddings, birthdays...even the Easter Egg Hunt. It is immediate family pariah status.” Greg settled his hands on his hips. “And actually, the photoshoot was just John's gift. Kacey got me a round of hormone therapy, she insisted I take them for a month before I came to you. She quote unquote wanted me to have curves to show off. And Abigail...well, she got me...” He glanced down nervously at the hem of his vinyl dress and whispered, “...a chastity cage...”

“Ah...” Josephine chuckled, “now I understand why you didn't want me to show you how to tuck after I put your breastplate on. You're already tucked up nice and tight.” She arched one eyebrow over her camera. “That is if the pills have left you much to tuck.” She tried to stifle her laughter as she continued to shoot photos. The cousins had got Greg good but it probably wasn't the moment to mention that John had paid for the premium package and she had used permanent makeup and threaded the wig into his actual hair.  

 

The After Party

 

“That's it, Ladies. Get under their nice and deep. Your gifts are down there somewhere...maybe right at the back!” Mr. Henderson's gameshow-host baritone echoed across the room and over the heads of the prone figures of Freddy and his Mother.

“Hey, Mom!” Freddy hissed, giving a furious side-eye. “Maybe your promotion's under here too...” His Mother didn't return his glare. Her makeup caked face just kept on looking earnestly under her boss's office Christmas tree as if the keys to her future career did indeed lie down there somewhere. Freddy sighed and chewed on his ruby coated lower lip. How had he allowed himself to get roped into his Mom's shameless scheme like this? Was his dignity really worth so little? Behind them, the magnanimous Mr. Henderson was lighting a fireplace and Freddy felt the flames warm his exposed buttcheeks. He wanted to reach back and pull the Christmas jumper back down over his ass but the last thing he needed was to draw any further attention to his rear than necessary. It was bad enough that the panties his Mom had given him to wear were on full display.

“Oh, Sir, you are far too generous!” His Mother announced in a liquorice sweet voice as she laid her hands on a pair of wrapped boxes Really, these gorgeous Christmas jumpers were more than enough!" She leaned in close to Freddy so that her dark hair became intermingled with the blonde highlights of his wig and gave him a stern look that said 'Don t ruin this for me!' Freddy rolled his eves and felt his heavy lashes as he did so remind him he was wearing even more makeup than his mother. The jumpers really were more than enough. His mother had flirted shamelessly with Mr. Henderson throughout the party and when he had insisted they stay for champagne in his office after the rest of the guests had left, he had presented them with a pair of Christmas jumpers - the figure hugging kind that were meant to be worn like dress - a dress that rode up mercilessly when you started crawling around on your hands and knees.

“Oh no...” Freddy gasped as he saw what his mother had produced from the first of the gift boxes. She was holding a pair of pink fur-lined handcuffs from one of her French-tipped fingers. The cogs of greeds were turning behind her eyes as she pondered how much she wanted this promotion. Meanwhile, Mr. Henderson's son had taken his place in the doorway of his father's office and the two men gazed down at the two women on their knees beneath the Christmas tree with matching grins stretched across their faces.

“Don't worry, Jessica. You have a pair too!” Mr. Henderson smiled and put his arm around his son's shoulders. “We are a family company here. If you can make my boy happy, I will be sure to make your mother very happy indeed!” Freddy's pretty mouth dropped open in horror just as his mother thrust the remaining gift box triumphantly into his hands.

Regifted

 

Giles knew something was wrong the moment he opened his eyes. Waking up underneath the Christmas Tree was never a good way to start the day. How much brandy had he drank last night? Groaning, he stumbled to his feet, taking a line of tinsel from the tree with him. His head was spinning and he raised a hand to his temple to find that he was still wearing the stupid Santa hat that girl from the bar had put on his head. He scrunched his eyes in an attempt to remember anything else he didn't need his wife finding out about. Finding nothing but a blurry haze, he attempted to remove the tinsel from around his neck only for it to catch on something. Hair? He fumbled with confusion. Long glossy hair? Following the line of tinsel with his eyes, his breath caught in his throat at the sight of a slender, tight feminine body with a pierced navel and tidy round breasts wrapped in a red silk ribbon. He raised the tinsel up that was by now draped over his shoulders like he was a snake dancer, as if his normal male body was there somewhere – he just needed to find it.

“In case you haven't figured it out yet, it is a bodysuit!” Giles's wife stood in the doorway with her arms folder over her chest. “It is my present to myself. Cause I know now I can't rely on my worthless husband to get me something I want – except maybe stumbling home blackout drunk and smelling of perfume on Christmas Eve. It sure made getting you in that thing a damn sight easier.” She watched Giles open and close his mouth pathetically and strode across the room towards him. “You promised me something good this year. And, fool me, I actually believed you – despite how many times you have disappointed me in the past. I believed you until I found these in the closet anyway!” She held up a plastic display box. “Ho-Ho-Ho Horny vibrating nipple rings,” she read aloud, “self-piercing and equipped with mini-electroshocks to give your love life a spark this Christmas.” Giles's wife sighed. “No, freaking, thank you!?”

“Honey...” Giles started to protest and paused at the sound of the soft feminine lilt that was now his voice. He raised a hand to his swan-like throat and traced a finger to a pair of soft pink lips, which were by now hanging open in horror. He caught his wife's glare before shifting his gaze to his would-be gift. The box was empty. His knees quivering involuntarily.

“Whatever is the matter?” His wife smiled coyly. “Is it this?” She pulled a keyfob from her pocket and seconds later Giles was squealing in pain as sparks shot from his ribbon covered breasts. “I guess at least your shitty gift came with batteries.” She smirked cruelly and gave him another zap. “And to think this is what you wanted for me... To spark my tits until I performed whatever depraved act you wanted from me.” She watched with satisfaction as Giles's new delicate form fell to his knees in front of the tree panting. “Well, we'll see who the Ho Ho Ho really is this afternoon. I invited a couple of my guy friends over for Christmas dinner. I haven't decided yet if I am going to make you watch them screw me, or if I will watch them give you a good stuffing – either way you are finally giving me a gift I actually want...”

Under the Influence Part 9

 

As Brody crawled along the paved streets, so did his skin. Thousands of people had seen Claire's feminine creation by now, but he had always been safely behind a webcam and someone's screen. Now he was exposed for all the world to see. Real life was not like an OnlyFemmes profile. He was not there purely for those willing to pay to enjoy him. He was there for the angry glares, the disapproving stares, the tuts, the head-shakes – all as Lady Radius half-guided, half-dragged his bound body across the town square.

She had started by reaching under his pathetic maid's dress and grabbing him by his shrivelled manhood. The hormones had made him weak but the months of non-stop humiliation and self-degradation had made him weaker and he was no match for the powerful woman. She had pulled the uniform up over his head and pushed him forward onto the bed while he still tried to nurse his throbbing genitals. A few hard swats on the ass from the leather riding crop followed and then the dress was up over his head completely. Lady Radius pushed a knee painfully in his back began to use a long piece of rope to bind his arms behind his back – even adding the humiliating detail of looping it around his soft hormone induced breasts.

Once he was firmly secured, the domina rolled him onto his back and struck him directly between the legs with the riding crop. The black satin panties offered little protection and with his arms beneath him, he was completely powerless to defend himself and simply lay their trembling as the vicious woman pulled firstly a pair of stockings up to his thighs and then some over the knee leather boots. She yanked him off the bed and he quickly realised the heels were far too high for him to walk in, but that was clearly the point as Lady Radius dragged him on his knees across the hotel's dingy carpet.

Once in the street, Brody was thankful for the uncomfortable boots as at least the leather protected his knees as he was hauled relentlessly across the city. He didn't know how long they would continue on like this, but clearly he was being taken somewhere. Lady Radius's home? Her dungeon?! A sick feeling entered his stomach. Would she be taking him on public transport? Like this?! The stares from the street were bad enough – close up would be unbearable. His head dropped in shame and his mistress gave with a swat with the crop to make him keep the pace. Wherever they were going wouldn't be good. He had the feeling this was the most comfortable it was going to get, even with the unsuspected buttplug Lady Radius has rammed in his ass during their trip down the hotel elevator.

The terms of his sister's bounty ad played over and over in his head - NO SAFEWORDS. NO MERCY. NO SAFEWORDS. NO MERCY. NO SAFEWORDS. NO MERCY!!! Lady Radius was truly the victorious domme, yet there was no way he could pay her prize. He chanced a look at her scowling face just as she pressed a heel into his fleshy exposed asscheek. Somehow, he didn't think she would take the news well...

What Else Happened to Stephanie? (Whatever Happened to the Pink n Prissy Collective)

This is a continuation of the Pink n Prissy Collective story which can be found in full on my index page. This particular caption is a flashback of this one with the unfortunate Stephanie appearing in her second Flashback Friday.

Stephanie pushed her way into the apartment, the by now familiar butterflies beginning to flutter in her stomach. Her latest conqueror, a short-haired goth girl so-called Arachna, followed her in – very butch, very cool, certainly not new to this kind of thing. Not that Stephanie was by this point. This was the fourth girl she'd gone home with this month in her newest attempt to scratch the itch that Kirsten had exposed.

Arachna's flat was all black suede and leather. It smelled just like the motorbike jacket Stephanie had clung to all the way back from the New Year's party at the lesbian bar where she had allowed herself to wooed with whisky and picked up. By contrast, Stephanie was all powder and shine – perfectly conditioned blonde hair and latex leggings so glossy you could see your face in her ass. Just as she had been that day in Kirsten's room...

“I'm gonna take you places, Bitch!” Arachna smelled her and wrapped a fingerless gloved hand around one of Stephanie's shiny butt-cheeks. She hated herself for it, but the b-word struck a chord in her and she could feel herself already starting to get wet. She parted her lips and turned to see the lesbian was pulling a strapon up over her jeans. “I'm gonna show you the fucking world!” She pushed Stephanie forward so that she was leaning over a sofa with both hands pressed into the leather cushioned wall. “I'm gonna grant all your wishes like no genie ever could!” And then Stephanie's leggings were being peeled down over her ass. An odd duality took over and she was somehow back at Kirsten's but also being bent over by this new girl. She felt the dildo being lined up with her dripping sex, ready to be pushed home.

“No!” Stephanie cried softly. “Not there!” Shame crept through her like an echo of every time she had played out this scene – like an echo of that first time with the entire Pink n Prissy Collective watching on with glee at her violation. She swallowed and imagined the last vestige of her pride dropping into her stomach. She needed this. She wished to God she didn't, but, fuck did she need this. “Put it in my ass!” She stammered.

“Dirty Bitch!” Arachna scoffed but didn't need asking twice. She repositioned her toy, rubbed some extra spit on it, and pushed it slowly but firmly into Stephanie's most private hole. She instantly went blind with a cocktail of pain and pleasure. She was being split in half and filled with something new – it was degradation, shame, lust and paradise all melted into one. A hand pulled her hair into a reign, another spanked at the ass that was being mercilessly violated. And then the hands were in her mouth, hooking her cheeks wide as she was slammed into again and again. Stephanie tried to reach back to spread herself to make her ordeal more comfortable but Arachna pushed her forward onto the sofa and continued harder. Stephanie moaned as she felt the first signs of an orgasm building – the familiar throb that she was chasing and had been chasing over and over since Kirsten – and that she knew she would go on chasing every weekend...

Pre-emptive Measures Part 3

 

The taste of expensive Champagne was about the only thing Daniel had allowed himself to get used to over the last six months. Alice limited his intake, of course – she didn't want to let her toy get sloppy. But, she did allow him to sample many the top shelf bottle on their many trips together. Whether the visit was to fulfil one of his many 'upgrades', or simply an excursion to another luxury resort, there was always a day set aside for indulgence and that included a bottle or two of bubbly.

Each time, after each new piece was added to his quickly transforming body, Alice would be there to appreciate him as if he were the fine wine. She didn't sample, didn't taste, she just stood close, drinking him in with her eyes, breathing in the delicious notes of his new breasts, his fat new lips, his long new hair extensions. The hormones were hitting hard now too. He had grown curves – his skin had become soft as silk. These were things Daniel had not got used to.

Finally, it was on a trip to the Mediterranean coast of Turkey in a boutique hotel that Alice prepared to take her first sip. Daniel's hands were flat on the room's desk, their latest bottle of Champagne empty before him as Alice sat on the edge of the bed admiring his latest new feature. His ass implants had been added less than a month before and his backside was still tender as he lent forward to give the LoanRanger attorney the view she wanted. The six inch heels were a size too big but they served the purpose of serving his pert ass on a silver platter. The Vektor silk stockings were top of the line, as was the matching silk panties tugged up between his cheeks – again things Daniel was yet to get used to.

“Even Raphael's wasn't as fine as this,” Alice was breathing heavily behind him. He caught her reflection in the mirror and saw that she had removed her top. She was practically drooling while completely fixated on his new ass. She stood from the bed and something caught in his throat. She wasn't just topless – she was completely naked but for a thick pink dildo strapped around her crotch. Flashes of every action he had taken in aid of Raphael's insider trading scheme flashed through his mind and now more than ever he regretted all of them. This was surely better than prison, better even than fawning over some billionaire while wearing a tiny bikini on a yacht – but in that moment Daniel wished to be anywhere else but that room.

“Wait...” Daniel gasped, but Alice didn't listen. She stepped up behind him and kissed the back of his neck whilst expertly pulling his panties to his ankles with one hand. The cold lubricant of the dildo pressed into his lower back and the soft silk of his underwear caressed his legs all the way down. When Alice entered him, she was slow but firm and soon she was all the way in. He felt the front of her hips press into the cheeks of his new ass as the rest of his body screamed in a combination of discomfort and a niggling quiet but growing pleasure. “Wait..” he moaned it this time just as Alice pulled at his hair, arching his back and pulling his vision up to the reflection of his beautiful feminine face. His eyes held for a second and then rolled back as Alice began to slowly pull out. “There was no way he was going to get used to this...”

Pre-emptive Measures Part 2

 

Daniel padded over to the glass wall of the hotel balcony and found that he couldn't help but walk on his toes, so much had he become accustomed to walking in heels. He caught a flash of his reflection in the divider and almost didn't recognise himself. With Alice's guidance, he had become skilled with the makeup brush and his new diet had crafted a slender figure that fit easily into outfits such as the semi-transparent pink negligee he was wearing.

The sun beat down over the luxury resort below and the ocean stretched off to infinity ahead of him. He imagined Raphael out there somewhere on a yacht baking in the sun in a tiny string bikini. It was typical, Daniel thought bitterly, they had worked together to sell LoanRanger inside trading secrets and it was always Raphael that got to swan off to the exotic locations and rub shoulders with the money – even now. Not that he envied him in this instance.

“I bet your pal, Raphael is out there somewhere,” Alice spoke from behind him as if reading his mind. “I can just see him lying there as some pool boy rubs lotion into his big silicone tits while he desperately tries to think up ways to sell our products to the rich businessmen on board.” Alice laughed cruelly. “Guys like that only respond to one thing... Maybe the answer is to provide them with more of it. You'd look great in a g-string bikini, Daniel. Once we have given you the ass for it, anyway...”

“No...” Daniel could only groan with despair. He raised the bottle of Champagne to his fat pink lips and took a slug. He knew the other foot was about to drop. Alice didn't just bring him out here to make idle threats, she wanted something, but if the alternative was being pumped with silicone and thrown on a yacht to be a billionaire's plaything, he wasn't sure he wanted to hear her offer. She had paraded him around this resort for two days now and he still had no idea why. What was she waiting for? She had all the evidence of his collaboration with Raphael by now. She held all the cards, so when was she going to play her hand?

“You will make a very good toy, you know Daniel?” Alice said softly. “For someone...” She approached him from behind and placed her hands on his shoulders. They felt surprisingly strong on his sunkissed skin. “You should know, you're getting the full works either way – tits, facial reconstruction, an ass to die for – but you still have a choice. Option one – we do the surgeries and take you bikini shopping. You will be lying on a sun lounger giving a billionaire a handjob faster than you can say 'Pamela fucking Anderson'. Option two...” she pushed back his long grown out hair so she could whisper in his ear, “we give you a long comfortable recovery and you and I continue to visit exotic locations like this one together from time to time. The choice is yours...but don't keep me waiting. I don't like to wait once I know what I want!”