TLV Chapter Four
"The Life and Times of Lady Vargos"
Written by Rikki
The Martin Castings Saga" is a work of erotic fantasy/fiction in three distinct pieces and is not based on any beliefs/realities or are any of the characters based on person's alive or dead. This story contains elements of b/d, s/m, forced femininity, and some explicit scenes of gay sexual activity, some non consentual in nature. The story is meant to be a piece of erotic literature for entertainment purposes only, about a straight man who is forced to become another man's crossdressed wife.
"The Life and Time of Lady Vargos"
Chapter Four
"Rest, Relaxation, and Reality"
Martin fought back hard against the attendants of the spa as they tried to force him out on to a busy city street sidewalk.
"Come on now Mrs. Vargos. Enjoy your day of shopping in the city," the lady said opening the front door.
"No," Martin yelled holding on to the doorway desperately trying to stay inside the building out of sight of the general public.
Martin was wearing a tight fitting pair of white capri jeans that reached just below his knees. The bulge in his crotch from his impressive but limp disfunctional manhood was very evident in his crotch. He struggled to walk properly on a pair of yellow platform, 6" high heels that also hindered his resistance as he was ushered along. His red fingernails were visible on the out side of the glass door as he held on to it. His hair still in the 60's beehive do, and his face wasn't elegantly made up as usual but very dramatic and heavy makeup was applied.
"Mrs. Vargos stop all this. You are a man, not a woman. It is perfectly legal for you to go out in public topless and expose your breast for people to see."
They all laughed at his wide eyed face that seemed beyond panic and full of fear.
"Why are you doing this to me?" he asked looking for sympathy to his situation.
They all laughed again.
It wasn't funny though. Martin had huge breast like a woman firmly projecting from his chest with perky erect large nipples. He was naked from the waist up. A full D-cup in size, his breast bounced up and down on his chest as he struggled with two men not to be placed on the busy sidewalk. He pleaded not to be plunged into the general public like this.
"Stop! Oh please, I'll do what you want. Please don't do this," he said in dread fear as he clung to the door handle.
"Have a nice day," was all that was said as Martin was pushed outside onto the sidewalk.
A group of people formed around Martin staring intently at the topless man with huge breast. The deeply sun tanned image of bra straps from his bikini were prominently visible across his back and shoulders, and the cup lines on his breast. Martin's arms crossed and his hands cradled each of his breast in a vain attempt to hide them from view of the public. His long red fingernails lay exposed on his breast covering his nipples.
"Let me in," the crying man yelled at the door.
"Is this a man or a woman?" a woman said looking at him seeing the obviously feminine appearance his body gave, but his voice was definitely male. Other people stood watching as Martin begged them to open the door.
"This collar on his neck says he's a crossdresser/transvestite," a man said taking a closer look. The people then snickered at the young desperate man's plight. He has a permit to dress like a woman."
The people chuckled amongst themselves. Didn't see this kind of thing to often in this city.
"Why is he so upset then?" another older woman asked. "I mean he's a fag isn't he? They dress kinda both ways don't they? Like girls and boys?"
Martin felt a hand touch his shoulder.
"Sir?" a girl's voice said softly.
"Leave me alone. Please let me in," he said banging his fist on the door, while holding both his breast in his other arm.
"Sir wake up. You're having a bad dream," a woman's voice was saying shaking his shoulder.
Martin sat up quickly as he awoke, breathing heavily. He looked about the room, tears still streaming down his face. He cupped his breast with both hands relieved to find he had no real breast and was wearing a padded bra.
"It was a dream," he said with some relief.
"They gave you a little sedative to help you relax when you arrived here at the spa. You were very upset about something when you arrived." She walked around to face him.
"I was.....they were forcing..." Martin shook his head as he tried recalling the dream. Then he looked up at the girl. "I'm fine."
"You must have drifted off while sitting here and had a terrible dream."
"Where am I now?" Martin looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings.
"You're at a spa, but you have an appointment with a marriage counselor first. She is here getting things ready for you."
"Great," Martin said in a sarcastic tone feeling exhausted.
"You look very lovely dressed like that sir. I just love the polka dot heels you're wearing."
"Please don't compliment my appearance. You can have the heels if you want them."
She laughed at his indifference.
"Your appointment will be ready soon. Why don't you freshen up and I'll let you know when she's ready.
Martin walked over to a mirror and looked at his overall appearance.
He was still wearing the white with red polka dots dress, red patent belt and matching polka dot shoes. His red hair still in a stiffly sprayed beehive.
"I look lovely. Yeah right." He wondered how people could say that so easily to a man who felt so degraded looking like this.
Martin touched his fingers to his red hair. It was sprayed stiff to the touch. He then placed his hands to his chest and squeezed the padded bra once again to reassure himself it was all a dream.
He recalled the painting above the bed and how Leanne had said the Baron didn't want to have to have it retouched at a later date. He was so preoccupied with what she had said.
He had been painted with breast. Very large breast. Did she mean he was going to be subjected to the same forced implants that Dorothy was forced to endure? Was breast enlargement in his future? He felt nauseous.
"That caused that dream," he said softly.
In the dream he had yelled "ok I'll do what you want." Was that his subconscious giving into all this pressure feminization he was now enduring to spare himself breast? His knees became very weak and his legs trembled slightly.
"Why is this being done to me? I did nothing wrong." Martin wondered how much Dorothy was still involved, or was Dorothy just sitting back enjoying Martin's anguish as repayment to his father's debt.
"Sir? It's time," the pretty young girl said sticking her head in the door. One man and one women assisted him out of the room. The woman attendant smiled as she took Martin by the arm and led him to the counselor.
A large table in the conference room was set up for Martin's session. He was seated in the chair and his left ankle was fastened to the leg. Martin sat alone quietly with his hand's folded waiting for someone to enter.
"Good afternoon Lady Vargos. How are you today." A statuesque dark haired woman entered the room. She was wearing a dark, skirted business suit and 3" black pumps.
Martin stared at her as she had a seat. She then looked at his with a smile and opened a folder.
"I hear you are having some difficulties in adjusting to your new marriage."
"I am not adjusting. I'm trying to survive. I'm a heterosexual man being forced to dress like a woman and having sexual acts and favors forced upon me by a pervert. Do you call that a marriage? I don't."
"I do not agree with all aspects of the Arranged Marriage Act Mrs. Vargos. It's intent and reasons for being law have been blurred, especially in cases like yours."
Martin looked up to her as if he had met the first person who didn't see this as a normal practice.
"You are however legally married to this man under this particular act. I feel for your situation, I really do. Straight heterosexual young men should not be forced into marriages with other men, especially at your age, and then forced to dress as a woman against their will at their husband's request."
"Thank you. Can you help me?" Martin asked.
"Yes, but I am not a legal counsel Lady Vargos and I can't help you in that respect. I am here to help you cope with your life as Mrs. Vargos. Help you understand adjust and accept your new lifestyle."
"How can you do this to a man? You said yourself you don't agree with all this and the law that makes me do it, but you are going to try and get me to accept it? " Martin said raising his voice slightly yet trembling.
"Yes. I know it's not what you want to hear and it will be difficult at first."
"Difficult? I think their talking about giving me breast. Can you do anything worse to a man? That would devastate me. This has to stop."
"Mrs, Vargos we will deal with you having breast when and if the time comes. If that were to happen, you would receive counseling. For now we will stick with the issues at hand."
"Like what?" Tears welling up in his eyes.
"Mrs. Vargos, do you feel that wearing women's clothes is causing you some of the undue stress and anxiety in your relationship?"
"I'm not a transvestite. I hate wearing women's clothes. Being treated like this is degrading."
"But you look very nice dressed like this."
"I hate it."
"Why is that Mrs. Vargos."
"Because I'm a man." Martin said flatly looking at her like there was something wrong with her.
"I understand you are a man. You are also a male bride sir. It's not uncommon at all for male brides to dress as women. Do you hold some resentment for being told how to dress, or is it the feminine appearance itself that causes you to be upset."
"Both," Martin spat out.
She wrote down some notes.
"Have you tried communicating this with your husband? Letting him know your true feeling?"
"He doesn't hear me. All he wants to do is dress me like his little whore and fuck me in the ass when he feels like it and he makes sure he gets his morning blowjobs. It's a wifely duty you know," he said in a dismissive way.
"So you feel he doesn't care about you as a person?"
"I know he doesn't care about anyone but himself. I'm a prisoner."
She wrote some more.
"Do you feel he is not considerate enough of your needs in the bedroom?"
"He does as he pleases with me without any concern to my feeling. I just want out of this nightmare. I'm not gay."
"What about his concubines? Tell me about them."
"Tiffany is the one he takes on trips with him. She's a young whore."
"Is she pretty?"
"I'd fuck her if the circumstances were different. She'd fuck anybody with enough money," he said looking away.
"I sense you may be a little jealous of this young lady sleeping and taking care of your husband. Does it bother you she has sex with your husband?"
"Jealous? Are you crazy? She can have him."
"Now. What about your concubines."
"He left two guys to abuse me every night while he was gone. Almost no sleep. I actually couldn't wait for him to get back so the agony would stop."
"So you resented your concubines. Do you want females? Did you request different ones?"
"No, I couldn't."
"And why was that?"
"Because I had a dick in my mouth," Martin said in a smart ass tone looking at her now. "Look, what are you getting at here?"
"I'm trying to help with some of the tension you are feeling in your relationship."
"Won't happen till I'm gone."
"I see you did the Three Nights of Consummation. Did you wear a bliss mask?"
"Of course I did. Couldn't miss out on that piece of utter humiliation, could I."
"Have you thought about Swearing Chastity to your spouse?"
"How would that help me?"
"When your husband goes away there would be no more concubines for you to deal with. You would be wearing a chastity device that is locked on all the time except in bed with your husband, and there would be only three keys. Of course you wouldn't have a key."
"I don't want to have sex with a man. Do you understand that?"
"Yes, and this would limit your sexual activities to only your husband. It would be a public proclamation of course, kind of like the ceremony when you did when you were introduced as Lady Vargos. An old traditional ritual as a show of love I guess you could say."
"No, I won't," Martin said in a defeated sounding voice.
A couple of hours later Dorothy stood outside in the hallway with the counselor as Martin received a massage in the room by which they were standing.
"OOOWWW!!! Oh stop. Please stop," the cries of Martin could be heard through the door.
He was receiving a long, deep and intense testicle massage. His testicles were being rolled between beautifully manicured fingers, using varying pressure. He begged her to stop. She held his balls together tightly and then slapped the sides of the firmly held male genitals with a wooden spoon. Three times quickly and firmly on each side. A slow intense pain moved up through Martin's groin. Martin wailed when she did this. Then he would receive more massage, with his ball sacs being pulled and allowed to slip through tightly clenched but well oiled fingers. It was when he cried out at the use of the wooden spoon that Dorothy smiled and looked at the door.
"Do you think his resistance will break and he will accept his new place in life?" Dorothy asked the counselor looking at the door again as Martin yelled.
"Honestly, I think he already has. He just needs to see that there are better options in life for him now being he is the Baron's wife."
There was a prolonged cry of desperation coming from behind the door now. Dorothy looked at the door as if he didn't know what they were doing.
"Sounds like they're brushing the head of his penis right now," the counselor said. "See if he accepts his new role, he won't need to have his testicles massaged twice a week anymore. Just an incentive." The counselor grinned looking up at Dorothy.
Dorothy handed her an envelope.
"Good. Just make sure he has enough incentive that he fulfills all his obligations both publicly and privately. Whether he wants to or not," Dorothy said smiling a knowing smile.
"Oh I will. He thinks he's at a spa you know," she said.
"OOOWWW!!! STOOOPP!" Martin screamed.
Dorothy looked at the door then at the counselor.
"Let me worry about that. I'll be in touch."
"Why don't you call me later. Maybe we can have dinner," the counselor said in a flirty manner to Dorothy.
"Maybe another time," Dorothy said looking back as he walked away.
Dorothy walked off, his hips swaying, wearing a pair of very short blue denim, Daisy Duke shorts with just a hint of his butt cheeks revealed, spiced up with a pair of lime green 4" high heels. His large tits pressed hard against the white tee shirt he was wearing, knotted under his tits leaving his mid section bare and his tattooed nipples were erect and visible against the white cotton fabric.
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