Vice of the Voiceless - Tom

 23/25

This is the final of the four victims of Pink n Prissy's silence serum. Remember there is only enough antidote for three of the 'boys' so you can vote for which sissy you think should remain at the collective's mercy for some further punishment in the comments of today's cap. The other three boy's captions can be found here (Carl, Timothy, Sam) and the rest of the Pink n Prissy Collective story is on my index page.

She would never admit it to her fellow Pink n Prissy Collective members but Josie was beginning to feel a little nervous. As their leader it was necessary to show strength and that's why when she handed the preference cards out to the muted boys, she made sure Tom got hers. She could tell he was the alpha of the group and in breaking him she would be asserting dominance over not only her band of friends but also their rival sex. However, with the deadline fast approaching, her sissy was nowhere in sight.

She was scouring the school grounds for her target. The final bell had long since rang yet there was no sign of Tom. Maybe she should have been more assertive... She knew some of the girls had played active parts in feminising the other boys but she much preferred to see them break alone, desperately debasing themselves for her pleasure, and she had a motto – the tougher the guy, the prissier the sissy. But where was Tom?!

She rounded the side of the school. As a former pupil she still new lots of people at her former hunting grounds but her heart thumped in her chest all the same. Finally, she turned another corner and found a group of boys circled around something next to the wall. Josie tutted on hearing the homophobic slurs they were shouting yet found refuge in the fact she had found what she was looking for.

“Hey! Get out of here!” she yelled at the gang. They stared at her menacingly but began to disperse all the same. Josie made a mental note of their faces, vowing to punish them sometime in the future the only way she knew how. The area now clear, their target was on full show. “My card said I wanted a Bad Bitch,” she smirked, “not a total pussy. Why d'you let them pick on you like that? And I thought you were the alpha...”

The gangly Tom gaped at her despairingly from his position on the concrete ledge, unable to respond. His long stockinged legs dangled beneath him capped with a pair of fierce heels. A red leather jacket draped over tight hotpants and long wavy locks cascaded wildly over his shoulders. Tom might not have been acting like a Bad Bitch but he certainly looked the part. Josie was impressed.

“You got balls dressing like that to school. I would have expected you to slip into something at the last moment. Maybe 'balls' is the wrong word...” Josie gave her prize a satisfied smile but Tom continued to stare nervously past her at the departing bullies, “Come,” she gestured, “the Pink n Prissy Collective is waiting. It's time to vote on whether you deserve your voice back.”

A Charmed Life

 22/25

Cole was a bad boy. Or at least that is what he wanted Hollywood to think. He was chasing the dream, trying to make it big as the modern big screen reincarnation of James Dean. Unfortunately, he couldn't act. Not that it deterred him – nowadays it wasn't about talent, you just needed the look – the million dollar gaze, the charm or as the French say – the 'je nais se quois'! Nevertheless, Cole bounced from failed audition to failed audition without pause to refine his skills but rather many an afternoon shopping to improve his look.

In was on one of these excursions that he spotted the skull pendant decorating a mannequin in the window of Gloria Honeypot's Emporium of Fun and Folly. He was immediately drawn to the charm and rushed inside to purchase it. Sadly, when he removed it from the brown paper bag and threw it around his neck, it was the skull and not Cole that enjoyed the fit.

From that moment forth, the budding actor was but a passenger in his own body. The pendant was his new producer, director and indeed makeup and wardrobe as Cole found himself dragged along on further shopping trips to update his style to that of a Downtown Hollywood bimbo. All his internal screaming had no effect on the actions his body took even as he toured Los Angeles's plastic surgery clinics. His meat prison was decorated with silicon, collagen and synthetic hair as the necklace possessed him to have breast and butt implants, his lips filled and his face reshaped, and extensions added to the top of his head while the rest of his body hair was lasered off. In three short months, he had become a buxom babe with a mountain of debt and the only trace of his old life being a hairless penis shrivelled by hormone injections sleeping between a pair of soft creamy thighs.

It was a month later and Cole was perched on the edge of a sofa waiting for his latest audition. A door opened and his body automatically straightened his back and pushed out his chest, stretching the painfully tight corset torturing his waist even further. However, it was just the secretary that had signed him in and taken his absurd fur coat. She grunted at him disapprovingly and placed a pocket sized packet of tissues on the coffee table in front on him.

“You'll need those,” she said humourlessly. “Also, I hope your makeup is waterproof. I'm sick of picking false-eyelashes out of the couch.” She departed leaving Cole to his own despair. He could already feel his loins firing, instructed by the awful thing around his neck. By now he was merely a ridiculous puppet and the pendant pulled the strings. If the pendant wanted to answer a casting call, he was going to answer a casting call. If the pendant wanted him to be the new star of Shemale Gangbang Sluts 2021, he was going to be the new star of Shemale Gangbang Sluts 2021. And, if the pendant wanted him to enjoy it...well... Cole panted involuntarily in anticipation.

Under the Influence Part 3

 21/25

I realise I have left this a bit open ended. I plan to do a sequel some time in the future.

Somehow things had got worse when the nightclub closed. Somehow Claire's grasp on her brother's life only got more firm as they were forced apart into their separate homes. Somehow being made to stay home was exposing Brody's feminised form to more of an audience than tottering around outside Ripped Gene's ever had. Somehow meticulously applying his own makeup was more demeaning than having his sister do it for him Brody thought ruefully as a blob of mascara clumped his lashes together.

It is true that you can't dig yourself out of a hole, only deeper, but what choice did he have as Claire's mountain of blackmail material piled up? If he didn't comply, she would expose him to everyone he knew, and now as his career as a girly nightclub promoter was forced to end, his new role as a Youtube fashion influencer was just beginning. This might be his apartment but make no mistake, this was Claire's dollhouse – and he was her doll.

“Hey, enough!” His sister called out from his laptop screen. “You look gorgeous already. We're not going to get any more subscribers from you spending the entire afternoon on your face – not that I am unimpressed. I can tell you have been practising.”

Brody sighed and turned to face her. He prayed they could get this video done in just a few takes. The bow in his hair was itching and the dress Claire had picked out was hideously prissy. He had been rehearsing his female voice at her demand after she had overdubbed their first few videos and now was his time to 'shine'. He pressed record on his laptop and forced a sweet smile into the camera. “Hey, Gals! Me again!” he simpered and twirled so the dress flowed around him while his sister tried to suppress a fit of giggles in the inset. “I have so many fabulous outfits to show you today!”

Three hours later and Brody's dignity was well and truly crippled. Claire was receiving the video files he had emailed her when she stopped to look at him through the screen. “Sucks, doesn't it?” she glared at him. “Feeling so exposed, so powerless. You couldn't keep my secret and you humiliated me, and now...I'm humiliating you by holding onto a secret. Ironic...don't ya think?” At last she smiled again and Brody gazed down at his heeled feet. “By the way don't forget to send me that box full of your clothes...otherwise your secret won't stay secret.”

His sister ended the call and he looked over at the cardboard box she had sent the latest outfits over in. He had to fill it with his own clothes and send it back just as he had the three boxes before that. Slowly Claire was replacing his entire wardrobe leaving him stuck at home with a collection of clothing that would make Barbie proud. Two more boxes and he would have nothing left and with her surprise video calls she would know if he held anything back. He was in a hole alright – a pink, lacy and satin filled hole – and for now what could he do but keep digging? Digging and plotting for a way to turn the tables...

Under the Influence Part 2

 20/25

I am glad people are enjoying this one as I already have enough ideas for a sequel. Actually I have been having a lot more ideas for longer stories recently - even though I have been too busy to work on them.

Sorry but the picture is small for this one again

'When I wake-up, in my makeup...' The voice of Courtney Love thumped from inside the rock club and Brody thought about how bitterly desperate he was to remove the cosmetics from his own face. If he did indeed wake up like this he would likely cry until mascara streaked down his powdered cheeks. For now, however, he was grateful for the products Claire had caked to his face. They were the only thing protecting what little dignity he had left as he stood outside Ripped Gene's nightclub trying to get punters to go in.

“Not doing too well, are you?” his sister tutted at the full ticket-book clasped in his hand. She took step back to look him up and down. “Well, you certainly look the part.” Brody instinctively pulled the large heart-shaped handbag defensively in front of his body but Claire pushed it away to reveal the zippered leather top and short skirt combo he had been stuffed into. “Hmmm... maybe it was a mistake getting you to help me with my club promoting... Maybe I should just put those pictures on social media and enjoy the fallout...” She laughed at the sight of her brother's suddenly terror filled expression. “Okay, Sis, let me see you work. Maybe I can give you some pointers?”

Brody tried to force himself into action. As bad as this was, everyone he knew thinking he was some kind of pervert would be so much worse. At least he could wakeup from this. Composing himself, he tottered over on heeled boots to a group of girls smoking outside the bar next door and tried in earnest to persuade them to buy tickets. He returned two minutes later with his tail between his painfully waxed legs to his sister shaking her head.

“Well there's your problem,” she sighed, “you don't know your audience. Look..”she pushed his long blonde wig away from his breast forms to give him a bit more perk, “...you aren't a pussy magnet, Brody, you are the pussy. I might be a thirsty lesbian hot for a sweet little thing in leather, but most girls aren't. On the other hand, guys will buy tickets by the handful if they think the club is full of sexy minxes like you.” She glanced at a group of men getting out of a taxi and then back at Brody. “Guys are dumb.”

What choice did he have? Brody adjusted his skirt, paranoid that it may have ridden up again, and turned towards the men. A stinging swat landed right on the tight fabric stretched across his ass from his sister's palm. One of the guys saw him approaching and nudged his friends, a drunken smile cracking on his face.

“Is there more like you inside?” he winked, playing with the cash in his hand from paying the driver. He teased to offer it and then pulled it back. “Just in case there isn't...” he pointed to his cheek, “how about a welcome kiss?” Brody groaned as he watched the other men line up behind for their turn.

Under the Influence Part 1

19/25

There was nothing more for Brody to do but sit in discomfort and wait for his sister to come back. He rocked from side to side impatiently and felt a bare ass-cheek peel away from the wooden flooring as weight was transferred to its partner on the other side of the thong splitting them. Claire hadn't insisted on the panties, but she had made it clear that the flowing red dress would reveal more than he wanted it to if he wasn't careful and the alternative was to go commando. Brody had reluctantly opted for the knickers and now as he waited for his sister to arrive with her Birthday party guests, he prayed that this would all be worth it.

Of course it will be, he reassured himself as he closed his heavily madeup eyes and imagined the drunken lesbians frolicking and grinding against each other in Claire's pokey flat...maybe even grinding against him. He didn't blame his sister for putting him through this after what happened at last year's Birthday – an intimate affair where Brody had accidentally outed his sister's preference for the fairer sex to their entire family. He could still see his Grandma's widened stare as he giggled to her inquiries into potential boyfriends. That horror show was probably why Claire had decided on something so different this year – an all girls' party where she could be herself, and if Brody wanted a glimpse of her secret lesbian life, he had to look the part.

He opened his eyes to he sister returning. He tried to rise to greet her but the heels were too high and he plopped back down painfully on his butt – actually feeling gratitude for his panties as the red satin of his dress rode high on his waxed legs. “Where is everyone?” he tried to compose himself as Claire pulled out a camera phone and snapped a picture.

“Everyone?” She raised as eyebrow. “But it's just you and me...and the world wide web.” She took a moment to drink in the terror on his face. “I know what you're thinking. It will be embarrassing, but you will be able to explain it away – a joke, a dare perhaps...a backdoor into your sister's x-rated lesbian party... But what if I post it to your social media with a passionate confession of your secret alter-ego. What if I out you...just like you outed me?”

Brody frowned. “But I don't even have social media. You know I hate that stuff.”

“Oh, but you do,” Claire grinned, “you've had it almost a year in fact. You're well connected with all your friends, family and work colleagues. You've even been dropping hints about your secret life for some months now – your long impassioned critiques of Ru Paul contestants, sharing fashion tips with that girl you like from work...I actually think you are going to confirm a lot of people's suspicions.” She paused to enjoy the sheer dread emblazoned on her brother's face. “And yet...here I am thinking there is more fun we could have together instead of sharing it with everyone. It's your choice Brody...should I share you?”

Shakes (a Liza story)

 18/25

This is the newest caption in my Aiko series. Find the rest on my index page

“So, this Aiko chick...she's the reason you're doing all...this?” Mason gestured to himself and looked down in shame at the lipstick stain he had left on the straw of his milkshake.

Liza raised an eyebrow. “Chick? That's no way for a young lady to talk,” she grinned. “If you want me to top up your beverage with some of my special sherbet, I suggest you make the necessary adjustments.” She waved a sachet across the table teasingly.

Mason shivered, and not just from the brain freeze. In just two short days he had already witnessed the full power of the powder in Liza's possession. His outfit spoke for itself. He should have known something was amiss when her step-dad made them apple pie dressed in a French maid's outfit but how could have known he was about to be served up as her next victim? From the second that crust had crossed his lips, his fate had been sealed. His body had been seized by the 'want' – that clammy desperation to do whatever it took to get just another taste of that substance. Liza had gladly supplied the 'whatever'.

“Oh...” he looked left and right to see who was looking and tried to sink deeper into the diner booth while Liza drank in his discomfort. “The girl you like, Aiko,” he began as demurely as he possibly could and even batted his eyelashes a little for effect, “she's the one you are making me do this for?”

“She's the best!?” Liza practically chomped off the end of his sentence. “She's my hero. She feminises boys with such style and so effortlessly...she's such an inspiration. I am going dress up as many boys as I can and photo them for my blog and Aiko is going to come back and we're going to be best friends...” The frantic pace of her voice slowed and something resembling uncertainty entered her face. “Aiko is going to come back...” she whispered, “she has to...”

Mason studied the vulnerability in her features and rested his chin in hands. He could almost forgive all the outfits and the makeup he had been forced to endure. In that second Liza's dominance over him appeared to crumble. And then...as quickly as it had arrived, her weakness snapped away.

“But until then,” she tossed him the sachet and giggled as he gobbled it down, digging himself deeper into her clutches. “Until then, it's just us. Drink up, sugar, we're going shopping. I need you to look your best for my blog if you're going to catch Aiko's eye.”

Shivers

 17/25

This is a Mannequeen caption. The rest of the story is on the inbox page

The first thing to puncture Austin's waking mind was the cold. The second and third things were the fleshy globes on his chest held in by the shiny latex dress. He was shaking even before the fear gripped him and he sat up slowly to find himself in the snow in a neglected part of town. To say he 'found himself' would not be quite accurate. What he actually found was a buxom beauty in a skin tight dress, elbow length vinyl gloves, high heels and little else. A tape recorder rested near his hand and already fearing the worst, he pushed 'play' with his shivering manicured fingers.

“Hello Austin. I want to play a game. They say you can't choose your family, but you can choose your friends. You can certainly choose your fiancee. Austin, I think you need to start making better choices. Detective Lara Lake and her partner, the Cleaner, may have turned me into a sex craving abomination but I am going to enjoy my revenge more than any pleasure an orgasm could provide. Speaking of...you have been fitted with a state-of-the-art female bodysuit that will bond to your skin in fifteen minutes unless you can show me you are dramatically improved at finding a partner. The bodysuit contains a temperature sensor that will unlock your prison if you can get hot and bothered enough. You may have noticed it is a bit chilly today but I am sure with my motivation, you can find some fire in your loins. Good luck Austin. You have fifteen minutes.”

The tape recorder fell from Austin's hand as panic seized his body. A million thoughts zipped around his head. First of all the sheer disbelief that this sublime body he could now call his own was a bodysuit. It felt so real, even down to the gooseflesh on his arms. Second of all the confusion of what he had just heard about Lara. Hadn't she been the one that caught the Cleaner? The tape had made it sound like she was some kind of supervillain. A feeling of betrayal stirred with the discomfort in his stomach.

Austin folded his gloved hands around his ample breasts and looked around desperately. All the buildings were boarded up and the abandoned cars dumped by the curb promised little heat. He tried to run on the spot for warmth but was sent sprawling into a snowdrift on his six-inch heels. Sitting up for the second time, he rubbed a slender ankle and searched for inspiration. If he got out of this, he was going to make Lara pay. A flickering at the end of the block caught Austin's eye. Was that fire? He stumbled to his feet and hobbled towards it. A garbage can was spitting out orange flames and for the first time in his ordeal he felt hope.

“Well, well, well...what do we have here?” Austin's attention was snatched by the five vagrants gathered around the fire. “Looking for someone to warm you up?” The biggest man stepped in front of the can rubbing his hands. Austin looked from man to man, knowing he had about five minutes left, and realised he would probably need all of them to get hot enough.