Author's Note: This story is fantasy but is based in part upon various personal experiences.


I open my eyes in the small hotel bedroom and everything seems the same as usual. But then the events of last night flood back into memory and I realise how drastically my world has changed. Yesterday I was a fairly average straight guy (okay, I liked to dress as a sexy woman now and again, and I've always enjoyed bondage, but nothing too kinky); today I don't know what I am! I admit that I have on occasion wondered if I might be bisexual, but hadn't put it to the test before last night!

It all began when I met Maxine at a transvestite weekend party. I don't normally go out in public cross-dressed as I fear that I don't pass well as a woman, and I have a nice, normal girlfriend who doesn't know about Jill (my femme name). But I do love attending the occasional transvestite event, where I can wear clothes that excite me: corsets and stockings, high heeled shoes and indecently short skirts. I was immediately attracted to Maxine by her fetishistic costume: a very tight, scarlet rubber skirt worn over black seamed nylons (I counted eight suspender bumps under the clinging rubber), with a school-mistress style black, high necked, long sleeved blouse, and high heeled shoes. Despite the competition for her attention I managed to exchange a few words with her - mainly about bondage and stockings, I seem to remember - and she took my e-mail address.

I didn't really expect to hear anything more from her, but she e-mailed me and we began a regular correspondence, about my love of bondage (in principle; I'd had very little practical experience before last night!) and my various erotic fantasies. Then - a few weeks ago - she told me that she belonged to an exclusive transvestite fetish and bondage club, and asked if I was interested in joining. If I was, she'd put my name forward to the committee, though there was one strict condition. All new members had to go through an initiation ritual, and had to demonstrate a suitably submissive attitude by agreeing to it without knowing what it entailed! Was I prepared to do that?

The opportunity sounded too good to pass up, so - very rashly - I agreed. I had no idea then of the consequences of my wayward impulse. When Maxine arranged to collect me early yesterday evening from the hotel where I'd booked overnight, I really thought that my luck had changed. It had, but not quite in the manner I'd expected!

I'd bought myself some new clothes for the evening: a short black PVC skirt with a side zip that I could open to reveal as much leg as I wished, a glittery red top and some red sandals with five inch heels. I'd also treated myself to some fully fashioned nylons, light tan and very glossy, but with darker fashioning, seams and tops. When I'd dressed, put on my bright red nail varnish and lipstick, and my party wig, I viewed myself in the full length mirror in the hotel bedroom and thought that I looked suitably tarty!

When Maxine collected me - dressed far more conservatively than when I'd last seen her (making me feel conspicuous by comparison) - she escorted me out to the car park and ushered me into her expensive saloon as if I were a VIP guest. She then explained that I must be blindfolded.

"The club premises is a private house belonging to someone with an important public position to maintain," she explained. "Until you are accepted as a full member, you're not allowed to know where the club meets."

That sounded reasonable, so I agreed and let her fit a tight rubber blindfold, which cut out every bit of light. She then instructed me to lean forward in the seat and place my hands behind my back.

"Why? What are you planning to do?"

"Don't ask so many questions and we'll get along better!" she reprimanded me. "I'm going to handcuff you to make sure you can't peep while I'm concentrating on driving."

I was a bit miffed that she didn't trust me, but more than a little excited by the notion of being both handcuffed and blindfolded while being driven to an unknown destination by an attractive transwoman, who - apart from being rather tall - looked every inch a sexy natural woman! I allowed her to fit the steel restraints around my wrists, which increased considerably my delicious sense of helplessness; when she fastened the seat belt I was effectively trapped. My penis strained for release inside my tight knickers.

We drove for a while, each bump in the road sending a minor shock wave of pleasure through my straining penis (I almost wished that the journey could continue like that until I climaxed!), but eventually I heard the crunch of gravel beneath the tyres and we halted.

Maxine climbed from the car and released me from the seat belt, though she didn't remove the handcuffs or blindfold. She helped me out of the car and led me across the gravel drive to the house. The drive was much larger than I expected, suggesting that this was a very big house indeed. I felt even more excited then at the prospect of being accepted into an exclusive transvestite club run for the rich and the powerful; I should have remembered that the English elite has a history of seducing girls from the lower classes for their own pleasure before abandoning them!

We entered the house and ascended a steep, uncarpeted staircase; obviously the servant's entrance. I was led along corridors into a room where Maxine removed the handcuffs and blindfold. It was a small dressing room, containing a simple wardrobe, dressing table and padded upright chair. Maxine handed me an empty plastic carrier bag.

"I want you to undress completely, except for your stockings. They're okay. For the rest I've got special clothes for you to wear tonight. Put your clothes in the bag."

I was disappointed. "I bought this outfit specially!"

She smiled at my hurt expression. "Don't worry, darling, you'll look every bit as sexy in what I've got for you."

She opened the wardrobe and lifted out a short red dress. My heart skipped at the sight of it; it was tiny - hardly bigger than a child's dress - sleeveless, with a flared skirt, and manufactured from thin lacquered rubber, gleaming with glossy highlights. It was the sexiest dress I'd ever seen, but I was far from certain that I could get into it.

"That will never fit me!"

Maxine laughed. "Don't worry, it will! It's meant to be tight! Now, I'm going to change. When I get back I expect to find you in nothing but stockings. Understood?"

I nodded and she left the room. I stripped off all my new clothes, except for my nylons, and sat on the padded chair, feeling extremely naked in that brightly lit room; I'd not only discarded my clothes, but in preparation for that evening I'd also removed all my body hair. I didn't have long to wait before Maxine returned.

The costume she'd changed into provoked a physical response that I had difficulty concealing. Her dress was high necked, sleeveless and floor length, a sheath of glossy black rubber stretched over her large, very natural looking breasts and clinging to her slender hips so that I could see clearly the outline of her stockings and many suspenders. Her arms were clad almost to her armpits in matching rubber gloves, and she was perched on extremely high stiletto heels.

"Stand up," she ordered briskly. "We have to get you dressed."

I'd been sitting with my hands holding down my wayward penis and consequently stood very awkwardly. Maxine laughed at my coyness.

"Don't worry, dear, we've all got one, and they often misbehave!"

I couldn't help noticing that hers wasn't behaving very circumspectly. The sight of me in just my stockings had caused a noticeable bulge under her dress and I could make out the ridge of her glans beneath the stretchy rubber; evidently she wasn't wearing knickers! I was disturbed to discover that the sight of that bulge - advertising her maleness in contrast to her otherwise extremely female presentation - fascinated me more than I thought it should.

"Take off your wig as well," she instructed. I hesitated; my wig was a badge of my femininity.

Maxine frowned. "Now, let's get one thing clear. Any argument or refusal to do as you're told and I'll take you straight back to your hotel. You certainly won't join the club then!"

Having come that far, I didn't want to risk spoiling my chances. I removed my wig, feeling - if possible - even more naked.

Maxine lifted out from the wardrobe a rigidly boned, black satin corset, which hooked closed down one side and had laces at the back for tightening. It fitted me quite snugly and encased my torso from just under my chest down to the tops of my thighs. The six suspenders were the biggest I'd ever seen, held in place by such short, thick straps - with very little give in them - that getting my nylons attached wasn't easy. I really had to struggle to get the glossy tops stretched up onto the suspender buttons, but once connected the full depth of their darker tops was emphasised, and I could feel them pulling as I moved. The soft flesh of my inner thighs overflowed the taut tops in soft white cushions.

While fixing my nylons I noticed a couple of small flaps sewn onto the lower front of the corset, with reinforced eyes for lacing. They didn't seem to serve any purpose, but I'd no time to ponder the mystery as Maxine chivvied me along.

"Lean forward and support yourself on the dressing table," she told me. "Then brace your legs while I pull these laces tight."

I did as I was told and Maxine hauled on the laces. There was about a three inch gap at the back of the corset and I didn't believe that she'd be able to make the two sides meet, but Maxine was determined. The stout fabric contracted around my ribs, waist and hips - particularly my waist - until I felt that I couldn't be more tightly packaged. But warning me to brace myself again, she pulled really hard on the laces and my stomach was squeezed even smaller.

"Not too tight!" I dared to complain, which impertinence Maxine punished by jerking violently on the laces - making me gasp out loud - before tying them off. I'd never before worn anything so constricting, and taking a deep breath was impossible (I was already a little light headed), but my waist had been reduced to an attractively female size.

"You'll have to take shallower breaths and breath slightly quicker," Maxine explained. "But if you maintain a steady, calm rhythm you won't pass out."

That was very reassuring!

She'd laid out the next item of my costume on the carpet. It was clearly a bondage garment, looking like a large sack fashioned from black rubber, with various odd flaps, straps and buckles attached. Closer examination showed it to be a combination of pants and a top without sleeves or arm holes, though there were small holes in the crutch and other places. The thought of being strapped into it aroused me considerably.

Maxine smiled at my obvious fascination. "It's a purpose designed torso bag, which you'll wear under your dress. But first I need to bind your arms. Fold them behind your back."

I crossed my arms behind my back and she secured them with an elastic bandage, wrapping them from just above one elbow to just past the other. My fingers were trapped under the bandage and I could hardly move my arms at all. My penis responded by twitching rhythmically to my pulse, producing small thrills of sensation.

"Now stand with your legs astride," Maxine instructed me, and knelt in front of me. I felt faint, anticipating that she was about to do something to my fully erect penis (I'd given up feeling shy about it!), but instead she fastened a cord around my scrotum. This she wound around and around to make a tight binding, stretching my scrotum into a regid stalk with my testicles a hard, aching parcel on the end. The tension made my penis throb with excitement.

She did touch it then, drawing from me a small sob of pleasure.

"It seems a shame, but it won't be needed tonight," she commented, before firmly grasping the shaft and pressing it up against the front of my corset. She covered it with the two small flaps that I'd observed, and deftly threaded the laces. Once she'd tightened these thoroughly my penis was secured inaccessibly against my stomach, while the smooth purplish ball of my tightly bound testicles jutted out on my rigid scrotum like a deformed substitute.

I was ready then to be fitted into the torso bag. Maxine helped me step into the leg holes and worked the garment up my stockinged legs onto my hips, where my bound testicles were painfully forced through one of the small holes to project forward, naked and vulnerable. The thick rubber didn't stretch much and clung snugly to my abdomen, further confining my helpless penis, which now ached from a craving to masturbate. The heavy material was hoisted over my shoulders from the front, and the back zip hauled up to enclose my torso in unyielding rubber to my neck.

There were two flaps attached to the back of the garment, with straps and buckles for tightening it around me like a second corset. Maxine threaded the straps through the buckles and pulled them as tight as she possibly could. This wasn't an easy task as there was little spare room in that already confined costume, and when the the last strap had been securely buckled my folded arms were squashed against my back and I could scarcely breath. Also my nipples and a small area of surrounding flesh had been forced through holes in the front of the torso bag to protrude like miniature female breasts.

The reason for this soon became painfully clear to me. Maxine assisted me to sit on the small padded chair and then applied herself to augmenting my discomfort.

"We need to make you look a little more feminine. We'll start by giving you a decent pair of tits!"

She encircled my chest with a bra, fashioned from reinforced rubber and shaped to resemble a pair of large female breasts with prominent, thimble-sized, solid rubber teats. The cups contained flaccid rubber rings, which could obviously be inflated to make the breasts stand out firmly, but what caught my attention - and raised my anxiety level - were small metal clamps inside those rings, attached to plates welded to the backs of the jutting teats.

Maxine squeezed one of these clamps and metal jaws opened. With a fingernail of her other hand she flicked one of my protruding nipples until it hardened and jutted out further, then fastened the clamp to it, causing me to gasp out loud at the sharp pain. At that moment I very nearly lost my desire to continue, but somehow I contained my suffering and made no sound beyond another mewing gasp as she attached the other clamp. Finally she fastened the bra and connected a rubber bulb to a valve on the front. With this she pumped it up to give me a thrusting female shape of considerable size.

The clamps attached to the backs of the teats were pulled away from my body - stretching my nipples forward - and tightened so that they bit even more painfully into my sensitive flesh. Maxine then demonstrated that when the rubber teats were pulled or tweaked, the clamps amplified the effect on my tortured nipples. I could not suppress small moans of anguish at this and I suspect that Maxine revelled in this confirmation of my distress, for she deliberately tweaked the teats a few more times!

I dared not get angry or complain too much about her treatment, because I'd realised that apart from forfeiting club membership, I was in no position to prevent her taking whatever retribution she wished! So when she told me to open my mouth, I did, guessing that I was about to be gagged.

What she thrust between my teeth, however, was a rigid plastic tube - at least an inch and a half in diameter - that wedged my mouth open, stretching my jaws painfully. This was attached to a rubber hood, which she pulled over my head, zipping it closed at the back. I could no longer see anything as the hood had no eye holes, and could make no articulate sounds; my face was smothered in clinging rubber, completing my total enclosure in that tight material from my hips up. In contrast my legs felt almost obscenely unclothed in just nylons and suspenders.

I knew that the tube jammed between my jaws was open because I could breath through it, but the hood also had nostril holes, which seemed pointless unless the tube was to be stopped in some fashion. An alarming idea about what manner of stopper might be used to fill my uncloseable mouth added to my nervousness, which would have increased considerably more if I'd been able to see the outward appearance of the hood. Fashioned from flesh-toned rubber, it was painted with a caricature girl's face. Wide open, innocent blue eyes with long lashes - beneath thin arching brows - substituted for eye holes, while the mouth was wide open, surrounded by shiny red, moulded rubber lips. It looked very like the head of a blow-up sex doll - which was obviously the intention - and my fears about what might be put into that inviting 'O' would have been confirmed.

All I had at that stage were suspicions, and they - perversely - augmented my arousal almost as much as my trepidation; to be helplessly available for another man's pleasure made me shiver with ambivalent anticipation.

While I was still seated Maxine slipped shoes onto my feet and secured them with broad ankle straps, which didn't buckle closed but were held by small padlocks. I was then helped to stand again - a little unsteadily as my heels were so high that I was perched right up on my toes - and my dress was fitted. This wasn't the easiest of tasks as it really was too small for me and could only be made to fit over my bulky form because the material was so stretchy; it was quite painful for me as Maxine tugged the clinging rubber down over my inflated breasts. It was very short, and even when pulled right down its flared hem barely covered my suspenders; I guessed that I looked quite arousing in it!

Maxine then sprang a thin stainless steel belt around my waist, but when she attempted to make the right-angled tags on each end of this meet she couldn't quite manage it, even with my waist constricted as it was. She wasn't about to give up, though; she attached some sort of clamp mechanism, which she used to squeeze the two tags together. I couldn't suppress a small strangled cry; I felt as though I were being cut in half!

Maxine was audibly amused. "Now that's what I call a tiny, feminine waist! Don't worry, I'm going to remove the clamp, once I've fitted this little padlock!"

I heard the metallic click of the padlock closing. "As I hold the only key, only I can let you out!"

I was feeling quite faint, both from the inability to breath deeply, and the alarming but exciting awareness that I'd been locked helplessly into that bizarre rubber costume. The metal belt was extremely uncomfortable, but it reduced my waist even further and exaggerated my hips; it also shortened my already skimpy skirt so that it exposed fully my stocking tops and bulky suspenders.

My preparation was nearing completion. Maxine fitted a wig over the hood - 'dumb blonde' style I later found out - and a high choker around my neck to cover the join between my dress and hood. She'd already clipped together the zip tags of the torso bag and hood, and once these were covered neither garment could be unzipped. The choker laced closed, stretching my neck slightly, holding my head immobile and my face tilted slightly upwards.

Maxine was obviously enjoying my enforced helplessness. "The collar has 'D' rings spaced around it, through which I'm going to thread a lightweight steel chain. This too will be secured with a padlock to which I hold the only key!"

Again I heard the tell-tale click, making me even more her prisoner. "That's your collar fitted. Now all we need is your lead!"

I shuddered at the wicked delight in her voice, and quickly discovered the reason for it. The lead didn't attached to my collar - as I'd expected - but to my exposed scrotum; when she pulled on it I had no choice but to move; she had me literally by the balls!

Tottering on my spindle heels, I was led along a carpeted corridor, attempting desperately to keep up with Maxine's impatient little tugs on the lead. We entered a room full of people; I heard the noisy buzz of their conversation as the door opened, but it hushed the moment that they saw me. I cringed with embarrassment at being presented in such a state, though I realised that I offered quite an erotic spectacle with my open mouthed doll face, my thrusting breasts with their over-sized nipples, and my long shaved legs in glossy nylons, the deep tops and large metal suspender clips on full display. It must have been obvious, too, that while wearing that inescapable rubber costume I was totally powerless to resist; was it any wonder that I sensed a flutter of excitement passing through the fetishistic male audience?

My heart fluttered in sympathy; I was the one submitting to that ordeal for their pleasure! I was led up a few steps onto a small raised dais, where I was made to stand with my legs astride. I felt my feet being fastened to restraints fixed to the floor and began to tremble with apprehension; what was going to be done to me?

"Ladies!" Maxine addressed the transvestite audience. "This is Jill, who has agreed to be your entertainment and plaything for tonight. She's a tranny virgin and has never enjoyed the delights of penetration. I'm sure we can do something about that tonight!"

An excited murmur rippled through the watching crowd. Just what had I let myself in for? I tensed as I felt something probe up through an aperture in the crutch of my torso bag and into my anus. It was a finger, slippery with grease, lubricating my rectum in readiness for something worse, I feared. If I'd been able to see where I was standing my anxiety would have turned into outright panic. Fixed to the floor in the centre of the dais - between my legs - was an upright, rigid plastic rod nearly eighteen inches tall and an inch and a half in diameter, with a tapered rounded top; its intended purpose was obvious!

I cried out at sudden intense pain in my testicles as my scrotum was pulled sharply downwards; Maxine had threaded the free end of the lead attached to my genitals through a ring in the floor and now tugged on it, stretching my scrotum even more and squeezing my testicles. The only way in which I could relieve my torment a little was to bend my knees, which was when I encountered that enormous rod.

'Helping' hands guided me down so that my greased anus slipped over the rounded end of the monstrous dildo; I felt myself opening to accommodate it and nearly freaked out at its evident size (I guessed that I had only a portion of it inside me and already it seemed alarmingly big!). If at that point I could have backed out I would have done, regardless of club membership, but Maxine ensured that I went through with that obscene degradation. She pulled even harder on the lead and my only option was to lower my weight onto that huge rod. The excruciating pain in my testicles was augmented by a burning in my rectum as it was stretched around the thick shaft, and I abandoned myself to girlish screams, caring nothing at that moment for my dignity.

Maxine ignored my protests and kept hauling on the lead, so that I was forced to let myself sink down onto the gigantic dildo, feeling it slide up into me, inch by inch, deeper and deeper. Even through the fog of pain I sensed the strong surge of excitement in the male voyeurs as they watched me impale myself - screaming as I did so - onto the considerable length of that enormous substitute penis.

My leg muscles couldn't hold my weight for long in that crouching position and began to cramp. I had to let myself settle into a full squat, and felt that abominable rod push up into my intestines, inducing piercing spasms of exquisite agony in my abdomen. These were too intense for me bear for long, so I endeavoured to lift my weight on my legs to relieve the torment a little. But as I tried to rise intense pain gripped my testicles again, and with horror I realised that they'd been tied down so that I couldn't rise, even a fraction. I broke down into sobs of despair and frustration, which thrilled my sadistic audience, who were audibly excited by the knowledge that I could do nothing but squat there unmoving on that upright post, enduring the degradation and torture.

"A round of applause for Jill, please ladies," Maxine mocked. "She has demonstrated how keen she is to lose her virginity! To see who will complete the process, I shall draw the winning ticket."

There was a desultory burst of applause, followed by short pause, during which I moaned softly to myself in my misery, almost past caring what else they did to me. Then Maxine called out a number and someone in the room claimed his prize, eliciting further applause. I heard the clatter of high heeled shoes climbing the steps onto the dais and then my head was firmly clasped. In a moment of alarm I realised that the open mouth of my up-tilted doll face was at just the right height to receive a standing man's penis.

I felt pressure on the tube between my aching jaws and resigned myself to the inevitable as a bulb of hot, rubbery flesh emerged from the tube to invade my mouth. I heard a ragged cheer from the audience as I was violated for their entertainment; for me it was a personal crisis. In that instant my exclusive heterosexuality had been shattered; I had another man's penis deep in my mouth, and I just knew that it wouldn't be withdrawn before it ejaculated. It pushed deeper to probe the back of my throat and I struggled to prevent myself retching; I could do nothing to stop my mouth being slowly fucked!

The owner of that fleshy intruder was obviously highly aroused for it made only a few more thrusting forays into my throat before it swelled and hardened, nearly choking me. Seconds later I felt small warm gushes deep in my stretched throat and heard - a long way off, it seemed - the hoarse cries of a male voice celebrating orgasm. Instinctively I swallowed, my contracting throat milking my abuser's glans - no doubt adding to his ecstasy - as he squirted his semen into me.

I thought then that my degradation was complete, but - as I soon discovered - it was far from over. When the invading penis eventually withdrew from my mouth (its owner seemed in no hurry to remove it), my testicles were untied and I was assisted off that terrible rod, an operation only slightly less painful than my descent onto it. I stood there shaking on my tall heels; my leg muscles could hardly hold me after being cramped in that squatting position and I had to be supported to prevent myself falling. I wondered what else could be done to me.

"Ladies!" Maxine made my fate clear. "Now that Jill has completed her initiation - which we all enjoyed enormously, and I'm sure she did too, really - she is available for your pleasure. She will come down among you now, and I don't doubt that you will come into her! Enjoy!"

Thus promoted, I was helped down the steps from the dais and left to wander blindly among the guests, a helpless play-thing for them to use as they wished. Without keys to the padlocks imprisoning me in that bizarre costume they were unable to release me even if they'd wished to do so, and although I was cocooned in protective rubber I was totally accessible sexually, my anus stretched and greased ready, my mouth held invitingly open. I could do nothing but abandon myself to the fate to which I had consciously - if unknowingly - submitted! The next few hours are now a confused jumble of memories, of hands lasciviously fondling my stockinged legs - or teasing my tortured nipples - and of a succession of hot, hard penises deep in my mouth or anus, pumping their semen into me!

To those men who abused me I was not human at all, but a rubber sex object, to be used without consideration, possessing warm flesh legs, anus and mouth only to enhance their gratification. And when that harrowing evening eventually ended the only penis that hadn't ejaculated was the one trapped inside my torso bag! That was the most galling humiliation, to be the receptacle of so many other men's orgasms without any satisfaction for myself.

"You did very well, darling," Maxine's voice congratulated me, making me jump as I hadn't realised that she was beside me. "Come with me and we'll get you changed."

She led me from the room, along corridors and down stairs, guiding me with an arm around my shoulders rather than by my testicles this time . When we emerged onto the gravel drive I stopped, confused; surely I was going to be allowed to change back into my own clothes before I left the house?

"Don't worry, I've got your bag of clothes here," Maxine said, a trifle impatiently. "I'm afraid I've got to take you back to your hotel as you are. I'll get you out of that costume when we get there."

I was rather shocked, and not at all sure that I wanted to be marched into my hotel in such a bizarre outfit, but what choice did I have? The drive back to the hotel was no match for the earlier journey to the house; this time the bumps in the road only aggravated the numerous aches and bruises that had taken over my body. I was relieved when we arrived, and even more relieved when we reached my room without - as far as I could tell - encountering anyone.

Nearing the end of my emotional tether I stood impatiently while Maxine removed the wig, unlocked and unlaced the collar, followed by the steel belt. I groaned as she pulled the tight fitting dress up over my head, inflaming - once again - my extremely sore nipples; I was immensely grateful when she next deflated and removed that diabolical bra, and I was almost in tears as she did so! She then sat me on the bed and took off my shoes; I just wanted to collapse back onto the bed and wallow in relief.

But I had to stand again - fortunately only in stockinged feet - while she unbuckled the flaps at the back of the torso bag and then unzipped it. She worked the heavy garment down my legs and helped me to step out of it before unbandaging my arms. These had been tightly folded behind me for so long that they had gone to sleep, and as the blood flooded back into them I suffered agonising pins and needles. Gradually this subsidised and I stood waiting for Maxine to remove the hood, but nothing happened. Puzzled - and more than a little irritated - I forced my aching right arm up to my neck and managed to work the hood zip up over my head. I pulled the hood off and was dazzled by the light; I could see next to nothing as I concentrated on removing the hated tube from between my numb jaws. I cried out at the sharp spasms when my jaw muscles tried to work again!

Once my eyesight had adjusted I looked around for Maxine, but she wasn't there. Bewildered, I crossed to the small bathroom to see if she had slipped in there, but she hadn't. Clearly she'd left before completing my undressing. I couldn't understand why, but I was really past caring. I was exhausted and totally demoralised by the evening's prolonged abuse. I also needed a shower; I'd sweated horribly inside that rubber costume (and I wanted to scrub myself inside as well, if that had been possible!). I quickly removed my stockings and the constricting corset - cutting the laces - before showering and tumbling into bed.

This morning - now that I have recovered a little from the trauma of the returning memories - I begin to wonder why Maxine left so suddenly last night. Then, as I climb from the bed, I notice an unmarked envelope on the bedside table, which I hadn't observed last night. Curious, I open the envelope and three photographs slide out to flutter down onto the bed; the envelope also contains a folded letter. I gather up the photographs, which I realise - with something of a shock - are of me in my rubber doll costume.

The first is of me standing on the small stage with Maxine holding my genital lead (seeing myself thus attired for the first time I realise why that male audience was so excited; I look brazenly tarty and available!). The second shows me impaled upon that huge dildo, and a leggy transvestite standing close before me with his penis thrust deep into my mouth (no wonder the audience cheered, even I find it arousing). And the third portrays a moment that will haunt me for a long time. I am kneeling forward with my head held down onto the lap of one club member with less than an inch of his long shaft protruding from the ring of my rubber lips, while another member kneels behind me with his penis completely buried in my anus. That picture captures the moment when I'd most keenly felt the hijacking of my sexuality, as two men had ejaculated into me at the same time!

I unfold and read the brief letter, which is unsigned, and my humiliation is complete: "Do not try to contact me again as the e-mail address I gave you no longer functions. The club committee have rejected your application for membership. I, for one, am a little disappointed. Your anus was deliciously tight and I would have enjoyed fucking it again!"