Preamble



The beauty and range of Life, strikes me as unsettled. There are reasons that changes occur to each of us. Things are just imperfect and some choose to revise the conditions. We say we are what we are, but life requires adaptation.



Some people "might by force of will, cause their face to approach those of they're ideal. Some imagine that this is an ability they share with most other people"



from Talking Heads "Seen and Not Seen" 1980



*****



My wife Barbara and I were meeting a couple from Washington so we elected to drive north to Montreal and since the weather wasn't an issue we used the Vermont mountain route. Our friends meanwhile flew into town a bit earlier in the afternoon. We'd planned to have cocktails and dinner in Old Montreal when I received a special invite from a restaurateur to dine at the Q Bar. After checking out the details on-line we'd settled on this venue. I took little note that the receptionist seemed to know we were coming; I'd simply stated my name and everything fell into place. Maybe the Hotel had a special relationship with the Q Bar.



Arriving at the St. James just after 3pm Barb was intent on some loving prior to our meeting for cocktails so we quickly showered and focused on our needs. She knows exactly how she wants her pussy to be licked and though I've had a ton of joy between her legs she loves moving my head around her mound and down toward her perineum. Barbara had never been multi-orgasmic but we slowed a bit and then I'd started again and she was coming a second time. Wow, is all I could say as I watched her rolling about. At the time I wished I could do that. Little did I know what changes were in store.



Friday evening was milder than normal so we didn't need the typical outwear of boots and long coats demanded by the harsh climate of the north in late December. In fact we were pleasantly surprised how easy the taxi hail had been as well. All of the girls look beautiful and since I was the lone male I sat next to the driver and tended to the doors and fees. Our friends from DC were so excited to be in a Gay friendly metropolis, only a little bit cooler than Washington. They had been at our wedding but with separate male dates. Both had tended to date really built guys so we were surprised when they announced their engagement 30 months later. Since the weather was not threatening I watched all three climb in and out of the cars with their heels and legs flashing.



Though Barb had put on a bit of weight she was still beautifully shaped. She wasn't as buxom as Ms. Hendricks of Madmen, but about the same height. Julie and Liz were typical lipstick lesbians, lots of beauty and skin. These girls were surprisingly similar in height and size, but Liz had shoulder length dark hair and Julie was a shorthaired blonde. I was surprised to witness the exposed soft flesh above Julie's stocking top as her skirt slid aside while entering the cab. My wife seldom donned such sexy leg wear and lingerie. Surprisingly just six weeks later I'd better understand the skill level involved in strutting in plus 100mm heels!



The girls were tight in the rear seat of the Nissan cab so I of course aided their exit, and again a leg show. The Restaurant wasn't too busy at 7 pm and we had a perfect table which allows us privacy yet wasn't too far from the bar. The Waite staff was just precious to look at as they did their various tasks. I was enjoying the heels and legs as well as the cleavage all around. Together with my dinner companions the staff was driving me to sufficient distraction that the girls caught on and started lampooning guys behavior and mine most of all.



Dinner was served and prepared beautifully and five smaller courses with paired wines (a gift from the Host we were told). Julie reminded Barb and Liz that this was as close to a hen party as possible, especially with the beautiful staff running by and by. Conversation changed and I stopped my wandering eyes, for a few seconds. By 10 pm I was paying the tab and the girls were re-assembling themselves for the walk back toward Old Montreal and a special wine bar they'd found earlier in the afternoon. The fair weather together with the past feast prompted the decision to move the four blocks via foot.



We entered the Chinatown area with quite a few other pedestrians around but as we turned south we were almost alone on a narrow block. About midway down the block I was surprised to receive a call from a past client, or so I thought. I hung back from the women talking while they walked noisily ahead when it occurred. In a second I was grabbed from behind, gagged and my head covered, next my phone was pulled from my hand and the assailants grabbed my feet and tore off my shoes. I quickly realized that there were several people attacking me but just then I lost consciousness.



1a Abducted



There is an unusual group in the northern city that came into being to fulfill a need. Individuals who sought more control in their relationships, those looking for a special, a unique woman, found their way to the group. The team used a system of control so dense their secrecy was assured. The lead was born overseas with little to differentiate her from any other thirty-year old French woman, except a strong interest in the beauty, the scent, and the passivity of women. She had settled in Montreal nearly twenty years ago, due to the metropolis, as well as the marketplace. The group referred to her as Mastress.



Somehow my web surfing habits had caught the notice of the Sisterhood. For years I had been using the Internet to fill my interest and fantasies of alternative lifestyles. I had found many sites focused on special girls and gender changes. When I was young the neighboring girls were my friends and were always telling me I was a beautiful boy. I'd started dressing as a teenager. In my teens I would still be confused for a much younger boy, and on the phone for a younger girl. Back then I'd carefully concealed my dressing yet similar to others with this special need I was discovered by an unexpected return, in my case my mother, who asked the appropriate question: "Do you care to be a girl?"



Interest in the activity waned as I reached my twenties but there was always a lingering yearning. I treated it as a curious period and didn't allow the small thoughts to grow. This doesn't imply that I did not find it arousing, the opposite is more correct. Seeing someone transformed, a random street sighting or even on television, made it difficult to ignore my latent interest. I just withheld the possibility to prevent being considered weird or perverse. After finishing college, but before meeting my future wife, I'd done some earnest gender explorations but I'd always minimized the public exposure. Dressing alone and hidden from any chance encounter assured my secret. I loved seeing my countenance transformed by hair and good makeup, clothing and shoes. The need to fit medium sized women's clothes kept me aware of my weight which hovered near 70 kg. I had collected many outfits and lingerie, as was the norm for someone of my nature.



Early on I'd found release in reading erotic text that hinted at the behavior of male to female transfemmes. Though not as main stream as the Shakespeare's examples nor Huck Finn's these stories varied in the intensity of the sexuality of the 'girls' and also focused on the dominate other that lead the young man's journey into the femme'. These two elements have never left my imagination and now today guide me along Mastress' path. The Internet had given me a bit of anonymity but this was a false belief. A reasonably talented hacker could have compromised the browsers I've used over the years. The firewalls can be broken through and the release of my information. The search engines of today both open and close these portals in the private life we believe we have.



The purge of my collected outfits, shoes and jewelry happened just after meeting and falling in love with my wife. Setting my gender play aside seemed final at that point. We enjoyed spending time with one another, traveling, entertaining, and playing together in bed. Though there was magic between my wife and I, and sexuality is an important part of our life, I didn't share my dressing interest. This decision shall have a consequence but not prior to the time of the forthcoming tale.



The nature of my gender definition is the plot of this story but let me be clear that when I'd been dressing in femme' mode those years before we married I was very passable. I'd restricted my outer life simply due to the lack of a support network. If this life had occurred a bit later I can't imagine what my life might have been. Back then when I'd dressed I saw myself as a woman, not in drag. My body care showed me that smooth and near perfect skin, long hose covered legs, together with great makeup and a smile, could allow even my neighbors to mistake me for a visiting friend. I stopped dressing when I fell for Barbara because I wanted only to be passable, not a mistake in a LBD. I found the time and effort to assemble the quality of emulation I sought just wasn't available once I was focused on her needs.



Hence I decided to live this part of my life in an imagined state brought via viewing, reading and doing my selfish acts quietly. Married life was good to us both and we had loads of fun and traveled widely, even to Europe on several occasions. Our sadness was we were not to have an easy time making babies. My wife and I suffered the death of two children prior to birth. We both carried the scars but found we needed more of each other rather than less. We tended to spend a great deal of time together and found couples with similar dynamics to share time with.



Unknown to me the Sisterhood's malware kernels lay dormant awaiting my on-line visit to two or more adult alternative sites. All of the data coming to my various e-mails was available to their server's algorithm links. They found a way into my account history and payments, though to avoid the banking centers and the high-grade security, they stayed clear of the financial accounts. Their system was set to catalog distinct patterns and mine must have been fairly easy. I tended to re-visit the same viewing platforms and reading sites at least two times a week. The data may have been collected over several years for some of their targets, but mine could have been acquired in as little as a month. Throw in some data from purchases, social media information and pictures and they could easily have guess most of what defined me as a male of 37 years living on the East Coast. I now know that some individuals were even easier since they'd purchased feminine garments and appliances.



So when I went on-line and booked a long weekend at the Hotel le St. James in Old Town Montreal they were alerted within seconds. My previous site visit history and hits had established my profile for the Sisterhood and they had a client looking for mid-thirties male for reassignment. The opportunity had now settled and the abduction could be scheduled. Quickly focused they were aware of my dining plans for a specific Saturday in December.



2a I am Lost



I became aware of myself sometime later, my situation was a different matter, let alone where I was. Over a period of time I realized my eyes were open. Nothing but a bright white glare from some place, I wasn't certain I was inside or somewhere else. Slowly I adjusted to the brightness. I was looking up at what might be the ceiling though I still couldn't see clearly, still unaware that I couldn't move my head. I opened my mouth and with effort I tried to focus with my facial muscles but then I fell back asleep. Some moments later, at least I felt it was a short time, I became aware of the surroundings, and I could rotate my head and slightly move all of my limbs. Though I tried to raise myself from the bed, I realized I was restrained.



"Open your mouth for me young lady."



Hearing a slightly malicious woman's voice I tried to look from where it came. Her order was clear though I my vision was still somewhat blurred, I couldn't see anyone, yet something was held close to my lips.



"Do exactly as I say. I want you to give this thing a nice kiss. I'm going to put it in your mouth and I want you to suck on it like you would suck on a thumb. Do you understand?" she asked.



I looked up but saw nothing, then from below my chin a probe like digit sized object reached my lower lip. I opened and it was in my mouth. Why had I conformed? What was, Oh my god! A penile shaped gag was in my mouth and quickly it began to increase in size. And then I was out again. Everything dark. But I was somehow more aware of all that was me and surrounding me. Sexual images were filling my mind, and occasionally with bursts of intense pleasure. Either I was dreaming or was being lead somewhere without touching the ground. Another woman's soft voice was talking to me . .



The history of Mastress' peculiar business started with a remarkable number of clients eager to have her group fulfill their special needs. You might jump to conclude she sought revenge for a past trouble at the hands of a male but her method implied a more intense background and love of 'femaleness'. Least to say she still loved what men had to offer, yet she found most of her release in the company of females, both young and old, all beautiful and each a special individual. Still how does one come to market transformed men and boys? Why even initiate the commerce? For what scale of remuneration was this clearly illegal act of kidnapping so reasonable to start? How did Mastress even get her first request, let alone how she found those able to help her complete the act? The team had created quite a number of successful transfemmes in the sixteen years since Mastress began.



Mastress had seduced and trained her team over a period of years. Her throughout research and careful screening and selection was essential. The five girls understood that any failure to meet a request brought Mastress' wrath.



She was beautiful and tall and her body was a tight 60 kilograms, even though she had now passed 50 years. Her character was defined both by her simple beauty and her style. This was a woman fully charged with intellect, means and sexuality. She worn her soft light brown hair to just passed the shoulders, but many days she worn it up, in a bun or with a clip. Though stern toward failure she generally had little reason to be so since her charges were well managed and therefore behaved in accordance with her commands. Mastress carried her sexuality it with grace, applying to those in need and teasing the uninitiated. She'd organized her work with the team from a beautiful estate in town near the Parc.



This team was managed by a tall lesbian with auburn hair named Rachel. She had ascended to her role by being most astute to Mastress' needs as well as her goals. The most difficult portion of the abductions that led to the re-training was finding a candidate matching the requests of the clients. The actual capture was demanding as well but due to the organization, skill and planning they never encountered secondary issues. The search required attention to every detail but the kidnapping demanded strength and cunning. Only the female team members carried out the primary tasks of the team; there were two brutes near but restricted from the interaction.



The relationship of these two women included many late night sessions of guidance and care. Rachel managed the majority of the arrangements for the abductions as well as dictated the specifics of the capture. Mastress relied on her discretion and her command of the other girls of the team.



There were four other female members, all uniquely qualified to be with the group. Each is physically stronger than her gender and size would imply.



Suzanne was born and raised in the French countryside south of Paris. Her studies in France allowed her to travel to Montreal when she was 21 years. Somehow she came under Mastress' influence. She is nearly 30 years old, 170cm tall and fit at 55kg. Her hair is chestnut and medium in length.



3a Awakened



"You are OK Annabelle. We've take good care of you these last 18 days. No one suspects you're here so please try and stay calm as you become more alert."



Then she removed the now small penile gag, and I felt strange and I bit alone, but also very comfortable. My mind started to assess my condition and a vague memory started to form about being without shoes on cold stone or concrete. I instinctively move my legs and noted I could but not without my focusing on each. Could I rise from my back? I tried and found it difficult hence I relaxed downward again. Also too weak to roll to one side I stopped moving while another thought came to my conscious. She said 18 days? Where was I, and my wife and friends? Yet I still didn't seem to think this strange, just a missing memory. I wondered who Maddie was? But I was asleep again.



Mastress had developed the pair of substantially built +190cm tall brutes. They were cultivated bisexual muscles and trained to respond to her direction unequivocally. They supported the girls as necessary.



The Estate is near downtown. The Estate boundary is not generous yet privacy is assured via the high walls of stone. Built in the City, on the hillside of Parc Royale, the four buildings provide a full spatial range for the Sisterhood's tasks and leisure.



Mastress spends a good part of her day with the girls and insists they take extra care to be in proper dress and well coiffed. In addition, several evenings a month she gathers them all to partake of each other's focused sexual needs. The brutes are also part of these escapades as their needs are also carefully managed. The room set aside within the Estate for these events is called the Keep since it is located within the height of the main building.



The team leaned strongly on Rachel. If she found conditions that allowed the Mastress to comply with a request she prepared the field and started the team's activities toward fulfilling the request. She spent a great deal of time monitoring e-mail and on-line traffic. The Sisterhood's central server was very large and set to track the life style and inquires that Rachel found could produce a desired result. There were critical convergent points on the Web. Most were tied into alternative lifestyle websites and related porn purveyors. Rachel had infiltrated the most important sites with a specially coded kernel that didn't take over a target person's cpu but allowed a good deal of reporting to flood back to Mastress' server. Then the server's algorithm sorted the data and prepared personal alignments that may Rachel would consider.



4a The Street



Julie turned around and didn't see me. The three then quietly started back because they weren't yet alarmed. After thirty steps Liz paused the three.



"He was right here a moment ago, I hear him speaking on the phone. He said 'who is this?' but I didn't turn to look back.



"But where did he go? I heard him on the phone as well but didn't take note," Barbara said.



Liz called out for me but there was just the noise of the street and no one responded. Looking about she yelled again, louder, yet there was no response. They could see other pedestrians slowing at the end of the block, looking in interest to the yells.



Barb paused, "He didn't run off girls. He must be here, maybe he slipped and fell."



"Doesn't your phone have a flashlight app Julie?" Liz asked.



With the light after some minutes passed they found my phone in the middle of the now quiet street 10 meters beyond where they stopped. Then several more minutes later Julie saw my shoes at the curb near four meters away from the damaged phone.



"There, at the curb, those shoes."

