I spend the day like Carla and at night the women in the group initiate me
Inheritance - Third Part
Before continuing with the story, I would like to make a few clarifications regarding the plot twist.
- I think the story began dealing with Mind Control and now fits better into the Transsexuals category, so from here on it will continue in that category (there are many categories it could fit into, for example Domination, but I’m forced to choose only one).
- Keep in mind that the “power” possessed by the mother and the protagonist does not force the servant’s will, but alters it. The servant is not compelled to perform the acts they are ordered to do — they desire to do them (this is clearly shown in the moment of the protagonist’s first transformation, when he himself says “I longed to be transformed”).
- I received suggestions that the protagonist should expand his harem, but while interesting, I thought it would make the story too linear. Imagine: the delivery guy arrives → marked; the plumber arrives → same thing; a coworker visits → incorporated into the group, and so on indefinitely. Expanding the group would allow for many interesting scenes, but they would basically be variations of the same theme.
- This is where the mother comes in. As the center of power, she occupies the position of a queen, and as such cannot allow her position to be threatened by the protagonist. At the same time, she fondly remembers the protagonist’s father, the adventures they had together, and simultaneously cannot harm her own son.
- Laura’s request solves this because:
1. From now on Laura becomes an ally.
2. Laura will also turn to Marta for advice.
3. She keeps the son under control, reminding him of the power structure.
4. She orders Laura that experiences must be consensual, thus guaranteeing the son’s pleasure.
5. From Monday to Friday, she respects the son’s everyday life.
I’m toying with the idea that in future chapters, the entities from other dimensions will eventually appear demanding payment for the favors granted. What do you think? What kind of payments would they demand?
As always, I’m open to your comments.
Ana Raquel
Inheritance - Third Part
Saturday morning
I woke up in the morning and began my routine: first remove the makeup, then a bath (with my breasts still attached to my torso), sat in front of the mirror and began applying makeup again.
I must confess that the first attempt was a total disaster — a caricature, I looked like a Picasso. I removed the makeup and tried again, a little better but still not good enough. When I looked in the mirror I noticed my eyes looked different. I removed the makeup once more and finally, on the third try, I achieved an acceptable result.
Then I had to decide what to wear. A dress seemed inappropriate for a Saturday morning. I started going through the wardrobe, looking among all the clothes, shoes and accessories my mother had bought, and finally chose a simple outfit: natural-colored silk pantyhose, 12 cm heeled sandals, very short shorts that lifted my buttocks when I put them on, a long-sleeved white shirt tied at the waist, a long dark brown wig that went past my shoulders, and of course rings and bracelets as accessories.
I looked in the mirror and thought: *Not bad, you could pass for Daisy Duke’s cousin (from The Dukes of Hazzard).* The result pleased me quite a bit.
Meanwhile Laura was still sleeping, so I decided to go have breakfast. Just as I was about to leave I heard:
“Where do you think you’re going, miss?”
“Good morning my love, I didn’t want to wake you.”
“I’ve been awake for a while, I just didn’t say anything because I wanted to watch you get dressed.”
“Shall we have breakfast?”
“Not yet, something’s missing.”
“What could be missing? I’m already ready.”
“You can’t go out like that, look at your crotch — it ruins the whole look.”
I looked in the mirror and she was right: there was a bulge in my crotch that spoiled the entire image.
“I have the solution for that,” she said while searching in the nightstand drawer.
“What’s that?” I asked when I saw she was holding a silicone device that looked like two ovals — one larger than the other — joined by a small silicone bridge.
“It’s a gaff / tucking clip. You’ll see how it’s used. Pull down your shorts and pantyhose.”
I obeyed while she tried unsuccessfully to put it on my penis.
“It won’t go in, I think this thing doesn’t work.”
“It won’t go in because you’re already getting hard. Wait a moment, I’ll be right back.” She put on a silk kimono and left the room. Shortly after she returned with an ice pack which she applied to my genitals.
“See? It’s shrinking already. A little here, a little there,” she said while pressing the ice pack against my penis and testicles. Little by little they reduced in size.
“Look how beautiful, how tiny it’s become — it looks like a child’s.”
She repeated the previous movements and slowly began inserting my penis into the central opening of the device, then I’m not quite sure what she did — she pulled back the foreskin, arranged the testicles, adjusted the device and when she was satisfied she said: “Voilà, now you have a cute little vagina.”
I looked in the mirror and in a way she was right: my genitals no longer looked like a penis and testicles. In fact, the latter were completely hidden, the front was totally flat and the folds she had created gave the appearance of vaginal lips.
“How much it turns me on to see you like this. Wait a moment, don’t go.”
I wasn’t going anywhere. Before I knew it she was back. I had no idea what she had in mind until she opened her kimono and showed she was wearing the strap-on again. She came close, kissed me and said: “With your tongue only, I don’t want to ruin your makeup.”
Meanwhile I could feel her cock pressing against my crotch.
“Turn around, my little slut, lean over the vanity.” I obeyed. With my shorts and pantyhose at my ankles, when I leaned over my ass was exposed. She didn’t waste time — with the already-lubricated strap-on she penetrated me in one single thrust.
“Ouch, slowly please.”
“If you like it, don’t deny it. Tell me you like it.”
“I like it.”
“You like me fucking you?”
“Yes, I like it.”
“Then beg for it.”
“Please, put it inside me, I want you to fuck me.”
“If you insist… Do you like being my little wife?”
“Yes, I love it.”
She then began riding me with the artificial cock. Later I learned that this one also had two dildos that went into her vagina and anus and vibrated as well.
After a while I felt her body tense up. She thrust deeply into me as she had an orgasm. Then she withdrew and while inserting an anal plug she said: “This will help keep you ready for tonight.”
“And me?” I asked.
“Later I’ll teach you how to have an orgasm like a woman. Now let’s go have breakfast.”
I adjusted my pantyhose and shorts and when I was about to ask what she meant by being ready for tonight, she had already left.
When I reached the kitchen I found her talking with my mother. As soon as I entered, both went silent.
“Hello daughter, would you like some tea?”
“Isn’t there coffee?”
“Tea with toast is better, more appropriate,” was her reply.
“You look radiant this morning. I’m glad to see you like this — you remind me so much of Josefina.”
I sat down and began drinking my tea with toast, paying attention to my manners, still getting used to my feminine side.
The rest of the day passed in what we could call “normality”. At 6:00 p.m. Laura and I went to change for dinner. I chose a black tube skirt just above the knees, a long-sleeved white blouse that highlighted my bust, natural-colored nylon stockings with a back seam attached to my black leather corset with eight garters, black 12 cm heels, a black wig that barely reached my shoulders, and of course bracelets and rings to complete the outfit.
Laura helped me with the makeup — something I still needed practice with — guiding me on the color palette that matched my outfit and the occasion (a semi-formal dinner). She chose a similar outfit to mine and we went down to dinner.
Once again I felt all the eyes on me while we ate. I think I did quite well. When we finished, Mother said:
“Well, I think we’re ready for dessert.”
Immediately Laura, Elena and Enriqueta stood up.
“Laura, let’s go change. Meanwhile Elena and Enriqueta can prepare Carla, please? When you finish, come change — we’ll be waiting.”
They led me to the living room where they later brought a kitchen table about one meter by one meter. They unbuttoned my blouse, removed my skirt and I was left in corset, stockings, shoes and of course my breasts exposed.
With kind but firm gestures they bent me over the table. While Enriqueta tied each of my ankles to the table legs, Elena tied my wrists to the other end. I was left exposed and unable to move. When they finished immobilizing me, Elena and Enriqueta left saying:
“Don’t go anywhere, we’ll be back.”
I stayed like that for almost half an hour. I was starting to feel numb when I saw the four of them enter, all dressed identically as if it were some kind of uniform: leather corset with half-cup that lifted their breasts, seamed nylon stockings, latex gloves that went almost to the shoulders, boots that reached just below the knees with stiletto heels and side zipper, tight to their calves, hair tied in a high ponytail, everything in black, dark makeup with wine-colored lips.
The three women were wearing generously sized strap-ons, but these were not flexible latex — instead they looked rigid, pointing forward with a slight upward curve designed to stimulate the prostate. Enriqueta, however, was free of her chastity device, which had been replaced by a cock ring that guaranteed a full erection (I later learned she had been reprogrammed as a trans dominatrix).
“As mother, I have the right to go first,” Marta said.
“Yes, Mistress,” they all replied in unison.
She positioned herself behind me and while beginning to penetrate me she said:
“Enriqueta, would you like to receive Carla’s attentions?”
“Yes Mistress, I have desired it for a long time.”
“Go ahead then darling, don’t hold back.”
Enriqueta then approached and offered her cock for me to kiss.
I began kissing and licking her cock while she brought it closer to my face and lightly slapped my cheeks with it.
“Do you want it? Ask for it if you do.”
“Please, may I kiss your cock?” was my reply.
“Of course, take it all.”
Meanwhile my mother had already inserted her strap-on inside me. I have to confess I was in ecstasy, being penetrated while at the same time enjoying kissing a real cock.
After a while Mother said:
“That’s enough. Who’s next?”
“As her wife, it is my right to make her my woman,” Laura said.
“You’re absolutely right, darling. Go ahead.”
Laura then took the place my mother had occupied moments before and began riding me, while Enriqueta continued enjoying my attentions.
After a while Laura said:
“Elena, would you like to do the honors?”
“I would love to,” was her reply, switching places with Laura.
“I can’t hold it anymore, may I come, Mistress?” Enriqueta said.
“Of course my girl, but I want to see Carla take it all.”
Enriqueta then ejaculated into my mouth. Since she had been in chastity for almost a month, her orgasm was copious, completely filling my mouth.
“Let’s see, show your mouth,” Marta ordered.
I showed my mouth full of Enriqueta’s semen and Laura said:
“Swallow it all.”
Of course I did — delicious.
Then they released me from my bonds. Once again Laura took my hand and while we headed to our bedroom she said:
“You were excellent.”
Sunday was a quieter day — well, “quiet” is one way of putting it. I got up and followed the same morning routine as the previous day: bathe, remove makeup, choose clothes, practice makeup over and over until I was satisfied (though this time it took me a bit less effort).
I chose the same outfit as the day before and with Laura we went down to breakfast. Elena and my mother were waiting for us.
“Good morning Carla, you look radiant today.”
“Thank you, Mother.”
“Take your breakfast calmly and then we’ll begin.”
I assumed Sunday would be a variation of Saturday night. How wrong I was — it was a day dedicated to perfecting my transformation.
Elena focused on polishing my manners: how to sit, how to eat, how to cross my legs. I practiced these activities until I was exhausted. Then came the seduction games: when to look, when to make eye contact, when to look shyly at the floor, how to run my tongue over my lips seductively but without being vulgar — repeated over and over.
Laura made sure I gained skill in heels, using the highest pair in my wardrobe. I had to walk, go down the hallway, go up and down stairs in constant repetition. *Don’t look at your feet, look forward, small steps, one foot in front of the other, don’t step on your toes, I want to hear your heels click against the floor.*
Elena, meanwhile, became my makeup and hair teacher: how to apply foundation, concealer, how to line the eyes, apply false lashes correctly over and over, color combinations, how they should harmonize with my clothes and hairstyle, daytime, afternoon and nighttime makeup styles, different hairstyles according to the occasion, formal or informal.
By nightfall I couldn’t say I was an expert in all these activities, but I had acquired more than enough skill. Of course there was a cost — I was literally exhausted as if I were an Egyptian worker building pyramids all day. So I collapsed into bed and slept deeply.
The next day, Monday, Carlos returned. I took a shower, removed the breast prostheses with the proper solvent, put on a t-shirt, shorts, sneakers and I was ready to continue the work week.
After breakfast I said goodbye to Laura and headed to the studio to make progress on several projects I had in hand. Every now and then, however, my work was interrupted when the tattoo came to life and I heard a voice in my head saying: “You must pay the price”, “We are anxious”, “We are thirsty” — all in a tone that curiously conveyed both authority and anxiety at the same time.
This lasted a few minutes and then the tattoo disappeared until, an hour or so later, it would repeat its litany.
Around six in the evening the studio door opened and Laura said:
“Hello love, I’m home. I’ll wait for you in our room.”
“Give me a moment to finish this and I’ll be up.”
I finished what I was doing — I hate leaving a project stage half-done; then I have to review to remember where I left off and end up wasting more time. When I left, I could see Elena reclining on the kitchen table, her back on the surface; between her legs Enriqueta was licking and kissing her genitals, making her wife moan with pleasure. Meanwhile my mother, with a strap-on that must have been at least thirty centimeters long, was penetrating her, driving the artificial cock all the way in.
I think I was already getting used to these scenes and Marta’s depravity no longer surprised me. When I reached the main bedroom I found Laura waiting for me naked, wearing only stockings and stiletto heels:
“What can I do for you?”
“You can start with a good blowjob.”
She immediately pounced on my cock and began kissing it, running her tongue along its entire length before swallowing it whole. This was quite an advance — she had always shown little inclination to give me oral sex.
After a while, and when I was fully erect, I said:
“Today I feel like fucking a nice ass.”
She immediately turned around and exposed her anus to be penetrated. When I went to the nightstand looking for lube she interrupted me.
“It’s not necessary, I’m already prepared.”
Wow, the lack of inhibitions she showed excited me even more. While waiting for me she had already applied a generous amount of lube to her ass.
I didn’t waste time and penetrated her. While I was riding her she took a vibrator and began stimulating her clitoris. When the orgasm arrived it came almost simultaneously. We stayed lying on the bed, me still inside her, hugging her and caressing her breasts. At that moment I told her about the strange voices I had heard during the day, the authoritative demand, the anxious tone.
“I think we should consult Marta. She knows much more about the power than you do, and she must have received some teachings from your grandmother.”
We went down to dinner and when we had finished I said:
“Mom, I know you have some complicated choreography in mind, but I need to tell you something and hear your opinion.”
“Of course, son. Let’s go to the living room. Enriqueta, prepare cocktails for everyone — including you. I think we’re going to need them.”
Once settled in the living room, I told the story again: the tattoo activating, the voices, their demands, the tone of the requests, etc. When I finished, Mother said:
“I knew this would happen sooner or later. They are the Gods claiming payment for the favors they have granted us.”
“But they didn’t specify any payment in their messages.”
“That’s what we need to find out. This is what we’ll do: tomorrow night we will perform a ritual in the attic in which we will invoke the presence of some lesser entities. They will act as intermediaries and we can obtain more information.”
“As you say. You know more about this than I do.”
“There are some elements we need to get first: salt, iron filings, candles — I’ll take care of obtaining them.”
“Nothing else?”
“Yes, one more thing. We need an altar. Elena, Laura — tomorrow when you come back from work you will bring a person. It doesn’t matter if it’s a man or a woman. Perhaps it would be convenient if it were someone you don’t particularly like. Depending on the gods’ mood, they may not have a good time.”
“And how are we supposed to do that? Just say ‘Come to the house because we need to summon a god from another dimension’?”
“Don’t be silly. You can use any excuse. As soon as they enter the house I will mark them. Alright, now let’s go to sleep. I have to prepare for tomorrow.”
Well, I hope you enjoyed it and as always I’m more than willing to hear your suggestions while I prepare the fourth part of the story.