House Training
Chapter 7

Copyright© 2008 by RH Music

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 7 - Jonathan, a paralegal, is tasked by his firm to enter the house of the recently deceased, eccentric inventor Jack Hewitt to look for documents. After searching the entire house he enters the basement, where he becomes ensnared and gradually transformed by the inventor's bizarre, feminizing machines...

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Reluctant   Coercion   Mind Control   TransGender   CrossDressing   BDSM   DomSub   Humiliation   Oral Sex   Sex Toys  

The next day I was dropped off back in the makeup room. With a sigh, I sat down in the makeup chair. At least it would be more pleasurable than the exercise room, I reasoned.

The chair slid up to the bench but didn't do anything else. No anal probe, no sucking my penis.

"Drat," I thought to myself. I had actually been looking forward to the warm pulsing around my genitals.

I applied the makeup as instructed (wash, moisturize, foundation, powder, blush, eyeliner, eye shadow, lip-liner, lipstick, fresh coat of nail polish, touch-up eyebrows) and put on the brunette, shoulder-length wig it provided.

It looked good. From the neck up, I could barely recognize myself. Instead, I saw an intelligent, wide-eyed woman peering back. A bit square-jawed, perhaps, with a nose a bit too large, but the makeup softened both of those mannish features into something that could easily pass in public, I thought.

But what was this? Was I proud of my appearance? Shouldn't I be fighting this more fiercely?

"Must be the drugs," I thought, "and the brainwashing. I'm getting more pliable and submissive."

The chair clicked and slid away from the bench. I looked up and saw the exit door open.

But it was a different exit door which opened this time. So instead of the return hallway, I walked into another new room.


This new room was well lit, with a full-length floor-to-ceiling mirror on one wall and a series of doors on the second wall. The other walls were blank.

"||TRAINING ENGAGED, BEGIN LEVEL 7: FIGURE AND DRESS ||"

"Geez, how many levels are there?" I wondered.

"|| Please step into the closet ||" said the voice in my ear. I looked up to see one of the doors on the side wall open up. The closet was very small, really no larger than a phone booth, with a low ceiling.

I walked up to the closet and stopped at the door.

"|| Step into the pants. ||" I looked down and saw a pair of flesh-colored rubber shorts hovering about a foot off the floor, attached to the wall by some cables and tubes and a pair of metal arms. The arms looked like a mechanical valet, waiting to help me to dress. Figuring that this could be no worse than the exercise leotard, I stepped into the pants. Underneath the pants were two holes in the floor, about 6 inches (15cm) deep. As I threaded each foot through the leg holes of the pants, I stepped down and placed each foot into a hole.

"|| Reach up and grab the handles. ||" I looked up. In the (low) ceiling were two holes that matched the two holes in the floor, and recessed inside these holes were handles. I put my hands into the holes and grabbed the handles.

"|| Thank you ||" Said the ever-polite house-computer, into my earpiece.

||HHHSST|| The openings to the holes in the floor and ceiling closed about my wrists and ankles. The edges of the holes were trimmed in hard rubber, which pressed firmly, but not painfully, against my wrists and ankles. I was trapped.

"Par for the course," I thought to myself. "Why exactly, do I let this happen to me?"

A motor behind the wall started whirring and with a jerk the metal valet-arms began to rise, slowly sliding the rubber pants up my legs.

With a |snap!| and a hiss, an air-pump also started. I looked down at the pants and mumbled "Uh-oh!" In the front of the pants was a large funnel, now aimed directly at my cock and balls. As the funnel got closer I felt air moving around my legs and genitals, and then with a |floop| my penis was sucked into the funnel with my balls right behind. The funnel bent backwards, drawing my penis and balls down between my legs.

"ACK!" The entire inside of the pants were coated with some cold, sticky gloop. As the arms pulled ever higher -- forcing the pants up, over my hips, and over my waist, my cheeks, crotch, legs and stomach -- all parts of my lower torso squished into the sticky substance on the inside of the pants. I danced my body back and forth, trying to get more comfortable. The pants were sculpted (like the makeup-chair), and had a fold that rose up between my buns, lifting and separating the cheeks. I felt my asshole exposed to the open air behind me.

|Thump| |Thump| |Thump| with a series of aggressive tugs the arms seated the pants firmly, trapping and squeezing my body from my hips to my legs. My penis was now forced down between my legs and my balls were pushed up inside my body.

"|Whew|" I breathed a sigh of relief as the arms and vacuum hose (which had been sucking my penis) detached from the pants.

|SLAM| The closet door closed behind me. What now?!?

It was completely dark inside. I heard random thumping and whirring all around me. After a second I felt something brushing my nipples.

Jerking back to avoid whatever it was in front of me, I slammed against something behind me! And then what felt like two big cushions pushed against the front and back of my chest, squeezing my chest and cradling my body. The cushion in front spread sticky goo over my male-breasts. I heard an air pump again, and then felt my nipples being sucked into some tube running into the cushion in front of me.

And then ... Hot! Halogen heat-lamps on all sides burned white-hot around the pants, literally baking them to my body, and the cushions heated up as well. I tried to pull myself out of the way, but the cushions and the cuffs held me firm.

30 seconds of heat, then |click|, |thump|, |click|, |click| -- the heat lamps clicked off, the cushions receded, the door opened, and the cuffs released me. I stumbled out of the closet, gratefully feeling the cool air of the room.

I looked down. "Oh my god, I have breasts!" I shouted. Big ones too, size D. The cushion in front had glued breast forms onto my chest, and now they were epoxied to my skin. I held up my arms to cradle them, as they pulled heavily and almost painfully on my skin.

The breast forms where clearly a standard prosthetic, but when I brushed the nipples I got a surprise: I could feel my own nipples being tweaked! I brushed them gently and realized that there was some kind of connection (electrical? mechanical?) between the two.

I tentatively tried pinching a nipple. "Ow!" I received a painful pinch on my own.

I sat down on the floor to collect my wits and noticed something else weird. The pants were padded! I felt around. Padding had been added to my ass and hips. I felt between my legs.

 
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