A Familiar's Fate Ch. 07

It now felt so lonely being at home by myself. I considered changing out of these clothes, but for some reason that felt like i would be betraying Karen's trust.

I puttered about for a bit, tidying up and watching some TV. Nothing kept my attention for long. I was struggling to maintain my promise, as I wanted nothing more than to begin rubbing myself. The panties gently stroked my penis with every movement.

I wondered how to distract myself. There was no way I could escape the thought of her. The touch of her lips against mine, the consuming gaze, and the rabbit hole of emotion I was drifting into whenever I was in her presence.

I directed my attention to the mundane, the routine. I decided to make dinner for myself. And this is usually a relaxing activity for me, but I missed making dinner for Karen, and being in her kitchen.

Then I had an amusing thought. Wasn't it fun when I played the dutiful housewife preparing dinner for her lover? Obviously, I didn't have my lover to serve. However, I could still play the part.

My little penis twitched within its panties constraint. Yes, let's do it! I paused what I was doing and rushed to the bedroom.

The clothes which Karen had given me on Sunday were still in the suitcase. I pulled them all out onto the bed, vowing to sort them later. I hoped there would be a dress which would perfectly set the mood. And in contrast to the dread I felt earlier with the bag's contents, I was disappointed to not find a dress or skirt. However, there were some styles and colours which were more enticing. I held up each blouse and slacks combo, debating which outfit to wear.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I found myself admiring my slim figure, and wishing I had something up top. I noted the padded bra now laying on the bed. Do I dare going that far? Since I couldn't wear a dress, I could give myself some curves with the bra. Some old memories, and what this all meant to me, flashed through my mind. I donned the bra regardless.

One combo I liked was a pale lavender blouse, and fitted pants which would hold to my hips nicely. I tried them on, and took a moment to admire the fit. They really did look pretty. It did indeed have the effect I had imagined. I was much happier wearing pretty clothing as I prepared dinner.

There was somewhat of a let down as I ate by myself. No lover to smile at across the table. "How was everything dear? Would you like some dessert, or just your drink?"

After cleaning up, the ritual complete, my attention returned to my stiff penis, and the temptation of touching it.

I also wanted to be in a dress, and suddenly remembered the dress I had worn home on Sunday. I couldn't wear this outside, but I could certainly wear it at home. I rushed to change, and immediately felt that now familiar sensuality.

It is said that meditation can help to ease stress and anxiety. Yet no ordinary mediation was in order. It then dawned on me that I had an old video collection stored away. An online stream for helping weak men relax, and take comfort in their place in the world. Something I had avoided looking at for years, but I somehow never had the courage to throw in the garbage.

I rummaged through some old files until I found this self improvement program. It was little more than a sheet of paper with some login information. "HOPE, A Voyage of Self Discovery... a video series to help you understand your personality type, and how to become more comfortable with yourself."

For years I have looked at this registration sheet, HOPE, and wondered what it could be. Whatever it was, I wasn't quite ready. I think I knew and was afraid to accept it. Afraid that it may actually be true, and afraid that I could accept my place.

Meeting Karen had brought up some old fears and doubts. Yet also a sense of excitement. A sense of finally belonging. It was time to finally seek the answers. I was full of anxiety and worries, and there only appeared to be one answer. Acceptance.

I curled up on the couch, noting how much more comfortable this position was wearing the dress. Then, I logged into the site, and cast the video to my TV.

HOPE. I suppose we could all use some hope.

The woman's voice was calming and beautiful. The opening image slowly scanned over the body of a beautiful woman in lingerie, laying back in bed.

"Welcome to your message of hope. Haven't you always wanted to be happy? Haven't you always wanted to be loved? Haven't you always wanted to feel passion?"

Yes, yes and yes. There was an erotic tingle as I watched a montage of beautiful women on the screen. The narrator's soft and steady voice had a soothing effect, encouraging me to listen more intently.

"All of this can be yours. Search within yourself. Isn't she beautiful?"

Hell yes!

"Imagine yourself touching her, caressing her, pleasuring her. Would that make you happy?"

I was flushed and my body tingled with excitement.

The letter H flashed on the screen for a moment, followed by the word HAPPY. It scrolled above the gorgeous blonde on the screen.

"You would be happy to rub her feet, wouldn't you? Caressing her makes you happy. Giving her pleasure makes you happy."

A montage of beautiful feet and legs highlighted the truth; that I would love to be massaging and caressing these beautiful ladies in any way they asked. The first thing Karen had allowed me to do was caress her feet and pamper her. The memory enhanced my arousal.

"You are happy to have the honour of touching such beauty. You are happy to kiss these feet. Did you hear that moan of approval? Doesn't that make you happy?"

I almost moaned in agreement.

"Serving her makes you happy. Doing what she tells you, makes you happy. Taking care of her needs makes you happy. You want to obey her."

The image of an effeminate man kneeling at the feet of a statuesque lady. It reminded me of Karen and myself. Even knowing that I was being manipulated didn't change my desire to be that effeminate boy kneeling at her feet.

Almost on cue, "It makes you happy to kneel at her feet."

Yes, yes it does.

"You are happy to obey. Obeying her wishes makes you happy."

The letter O appeared on the screen, followed by the word OBEDIENT. The montage of beautiful women with men kneeling before them and kissing their feet continued.

"When she orders you to kneel, you will obey. When she orders you to kiss and lick her feet, you will obey. When she orders you to massage and caress her, you will obey. Any task she gives you, you will obey. It is your honour to serve. You are obedient. You are happy to obey."

"You only want to do what you are told. Obeying her is the only thing which gives you pleasure."

"Did your mistress give you permission to touch yourself?"

I looked down, and realized I was unconsciously rubbing myself. My hand had slid up under the hem of the dress, and was rubbing over the panties. How did she know?

"You don't want to be disobedient. You only want to do as you're told. Obeying her is the only thing that makes you happy. Obeying her is the only thing that gives you pleasure."

I took my hand away from the panties. My excitement at a peak. I wanted to take out my penis and rub myself to an orgasm. Yet more than that, I wanted to obey. Karen didn't like me to masturbate. She had not given me permission. And so, I would obey. Because being obedient makes me happy.

"You don't have any power. You don't want to have any power. You are happy when she has the power. There is no point in resisting. You are happy when are powerless."

I was struck by the image of a gorgeous brunette staring into the camera, into my eyes, and pointing to the floor in front of her.

"Do you have any power to resist her?"

Goddess, no. I almost knelt down before the TV to worship her.

"She has power over your body. She has power over your mind. She has power over your little penis."

The letter P was at the top of the screen, followed by the word POWERLESS. The word dropped off the screen, encompassing the fall of any self-control.

"You are powerless before here. Your happiness comes from relinquishing power to her. Doesn't your little penis stiffen at the mere thought of doing what you are told?"

Little penis? The phrase Karen always used to both humiliate and arouse me. My little penis twitched at the memory of Karen commanding me.

"You have no power to make decisions. You are powerless."

"Decisions require thoughts. And you don't want to think for yourself. You want to do what she tells you. Right or wrong, you don't know. You only know what she tells you. Her words are your truth. Her pleasure is your happiness. Servicing her is your purpose. Empty your mind of anything else. Your mind is open to her."

A collage of beautiful women. All in control. All demanding attention. All the type of woman I would do anything to be with.

"Empty your mind of anything but being with her. Empty your mind of independent thoughts. Empty your thoughts of resistance."

The letter E appeared on screen, followed by EMPTY. The words faded out into a mist, leaving the enchanting red head staring out at me with a commanding stare.

"Your mind is empty. A tabula rasa awaiting her instructions."

"It makes you happy to be with her."

H -- HAPPY

"Your only desire is to serve and to be obedient."

O -- OBEDIENT

"You long to be at her feet, powerless."

P -- POWERLESS

"You have cleared your mind from all this independent thought that have held you back from pleasure, and being with her. Your mind is now empty.

E -- EMPTY

"You have every reason to HOPE. You can be HAPPY with the woman of your dreams. Accept that it is your nature to be OBEDIENT. You don't want to resist her, you are POWERLESS. Clear your mind of all thoughts. You are EMPTY and receptive."

The words scrolled along the screen, along with a montage of beautiful women that until meeting Karen, I could only dream about.

H -- Happy

O -- Obedient

P -- Powerless

E -- Empty

The final image was a beautiful woman towering over the effeminate man kneeling before her.

"Have hope little sissy."

* * *

It was difficult to not play with myself after watching that video. I scanned through the other videos in the program, and found that they all followed the same theme. Some promoted domestic service. Others outlined the need to be effeminate and looking pretty for your mistress. I would watch them later.

The video continually referred to my 'Mistress'. I suppose that is what Karen was, my mistress. It was uncanny how this video spoke so directly to my relationship with Karen. I thought of my earlier influences, like the woman who trained me to perform cunnilingus with passion and worship of the female body. Was I fated to serve a dominant woman like Karen?

I really wanted to masturbate. Yet Karen would not be happy. I needed to obey her commands, accept that she has the power to determine when I could touch myself, and empty my mind of any other thoughts. Thinking of the reasons why I should not touch myself made me want to touch myself even more.

For the moment, I distracted myself by putting my new clothes away. This started me sorting through my men's clothing. As I sifted through the pants, I found that they were all threadbare and on the verge of having holes or tears. In the case of three of them, they already had some small tears. I suppose this was the downside of buying at second hand or discount stores. They never fit me properly anyway, and were a few years old.

Now that I knew that not only Karen, but all the ladies at work scrutinized what I wore, I couldn't wear these again. I tossed them into a pile on the floor for garbage. I hadn't forgotten Karen's solution, cutting them to shreds.

The shirts were less obvious. A couple had seen better days, and I summarily tossed them in the garbage pile. The others, they just never fit me properly.

Perhaps I was being too judgmental. Yet I had never been complimented for these shirts, as I was today with Karen's shirt. And none of them made me feel happy or attractive. I tossed them into a separate pile to giveaway once I had more clothes.

Only my three jackets remained in the closet; a winter jacket, a fall jacket and a suit jacket. Pitifully lame, but such had been my life. I decided to leave them.

Apparently, I need to do some shopping. Once again, Karen seemed to have had the answer. She had urged me to go shopping on Sunday. And truthfully, I could use some guidance. The clothes she picked out for me seemed more suitable. It was after all her that I was most concerned with pleasing with my appearance.

The closet was now largely open. It now had space for slacks, blouses, skirts, dresses, and whatever else Karen wanted me to wear.

I had a warm feeling of exhilaration. How could I fill this closet? I was imagining a closet which would liven up the morning. 'What could I wear today?' A wardrobe with a variety of styles, colours, and fabrics. Clothes which made me feel soft and pretty.

To this point I had not given much thought to my clothes. They were boring, and left me hidden from the world, and most especially ignored by women.

When I opened my drawer with all my underwear, I looked down with a sudden feeling of disdain. I never wanted to wear these boring white briefs ever again. No matter what happened, I was going to wear pretty underwear from now on. I grabbed the whole drawer full, and tossed them in the garbage pile. I didn't have much to replace them with, about a week's worth of panties and bras. Yet I was resolved that I would never wear men's briefs again.

Next was the t-shirts. I managed to eliminate a few based on their poor condition. And this gave enough room for the camisoles.

Socks were the same. Once I disposed of the ones which should have been thrown out anyway, there was room for the few ladies socks and hose, which Karen had purchased for me.

I was so giddy with the thrill of my new wardrobe, that I didn't think anything of walking down to the garbage room, wearing my dress. It felt good to have a clean slate.