MMH Ch.1

       Dark Tales of Forced Feminization

                                        Presents 

"The Marriage of Martin Hastings"           

       "The Martin Hastings Saga" is a work of erotic fantasy/fiction in three distinct pieces and is not based on any beliefs/realities nor are any of the characters based on person's alive or dead.

        This story contains elements of B/D, S/M, Forced Femininity, Forced Womanhood and some explicit scenes of gay sexual activity, some non consensual 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.                           

                                           Book One

                                 "The Marriage of Martin Hastings"

                                                   

 WRITTEN BY: Rikki

 ILLUSTRATED BY: Annabelle B.

                                                                                 Chapter One
 

                                  "The New Reality"

      Marriage has many different rituals, cultural influences and laws, based on faith, equality, and inequality attached to it that are unique to certain places around the world. Each one is taken very seriously by the citizens, and subjects of those lands.

       There is the traditional husband and wife marriage (a man and a woman), same sex marriages (two men or two women), then there are the arranged marriages (families that decide who the spouses will be), along with ceremonial customs, practises and traditions that are handed down through time for the celebration and consummation of these joyous occasions.

      But..........What "IF" these customs, all of these laws and these rituals were somehow all accepted practises in a single place, and socially accepted by the locals. What would that look like? It's not so much as where in the world such a situation could happen or exist, but maybe it is more a question of WHEN in the future that in an environment of sexual equality for all, has such an unintended consequence of marriage befall a very unfortunate few, creating a third tier citizen that loses their right to self determination, property, freedom of movement and lives their lives according to the best judgment and decisions made for them by their spouse. 

    Meet Martin Hastings. His families wealth is unquestioned. He himself is inherently wealthy, and a jet setter, twice divorced, but always at a social event with a pretty face in tow. So how did he, of all people get caught up in this unbelievable situation in the first place? His story begins here.................

                                              ...........................................

    The door opened slowly. Martin tried to pull away from the grip of the two men who were escorting him one more time. He was pushed into the doorway and he stood there wearing a white knee length satin robe tied at the waist. A white towel was wrapped around Martin's freshly shampooed hair and then tucked securely in back. His feet were in a pair of white satin open toed, women's house slippers revealing he had boldly polished red toenails. Polished toenails? The men steadied him as Martin was still unsteady from the sedative he had initially been given when he was forced to come here, and the second one after he arrived.  

      Martin's hands were cuffed behind his back and hooked to a chain around his waist as his ankles were manacled together also with a length of chain to make walking possible though somewhat difficult. Martin literally could only shuffle his feet as they walked. Running was out of the question.
      Martin's fingernails had just been done and were expertly styled in an elegant length, tapered and polished the same bright red color as his toenails. He was confused in his foggy state.
     Things were coming back slowly, but he vaguely remembered that his toenails had been done by a very young girl named Tiffany who found her task of doing Martin's nails today very amusing. She had never done such nails on a man's fingertips before, well at least not in a serious manner like this, where the man was actually going to be wearing them fashionably in public for a formal function. She didn't even seem to notice or care that he was sedated and secured in such a way that he couldn't interfere with here as she worked.

      Martin had also just been rather roughly bathed then strapped down and shaved from head to toe and though he had fought back as best he could and cursed the men while they were holding him and strapping him down to the table, in his sedated condition he was no challenge for them.

      He had felt so humiliated and violated by the woman, who he did not know, while she positioned his naked body on the cold stainless steel table and then secured him with the restraints.
      She had him strapped down to the hard cold table with his legs raised and spread wide in birthing stirrups. She smiled as she sharpened the blade of her straight razor on a strop. He was unable to move as he felt the sharp edge of the razor being slowly dragged across the bottom of his lathered testicles as all the hair was removed. She worked as if she had every right to touch and handle his male genitalia in any manner she saw fit. She gripped him firmly as she moved his penis and balls out of the way, despite strong but slurred objections from him. He felt somehow uncoordinated and weak now.

      "Stop all this, why are you doing this to me?" he mumbled sedated and dazed. He feared he had been kidnapped for ransom.

     "Just hush and let me get done here Mr. Hastings," she said firmly then looked up at him as she wiped the lather from the razor, "You don't want me to slip and accidentally cut your balls off prematurely now do you?" 

      She smiled and focussed back in on his testicles moving them firmly to the side and gently pulling the razor across the exposed sensative area.

      As his grumblings grew, she nodded at the security and his mouth was then taped shut by one of the security to stop the whining, that was now starting to come from his lips. He couldn't turn his head away and the tape was applied in four strips pressed hard over his lips and cheeks. The shave then continued for another 10 minutes.

     "There we go. All nice and clean," she said smiling and looking at the now bare skin that moments ago had manly pubic hair.

      The task of shaving Martin's balls and pubic mound had been completed despite his vehement but helpless, muted objections. His legs, underarms and pubic hair all removed expertly by the razor. The rest of his body, neck to toe was now covered in a hair removal cream.

      Martin was left alone on the table to allow the cream time to work. The hair removal cream was now starting to tingle and become uncomfortable.

      The woman came back with a pink enema bag that was filled with warm soapy water and hung it on a pole next to the table. Martin squealed into his tape gag when the nozzle was eased into his tightened rectum and a small bulb was pumped to inflated the small bladder inside that prevented him from pushing it back out.
      "Just settle down," she said to his anxiety.
     She then turned the valve and the warm soapy contents of the bag began to flow and fill Martin's rectum. She then left him groggy on the table while the cream contiuned it's work and the warm soapy water slowly filled his rectum.

      It was some twenty minutes later that Martin was unstrapped and pulled from the table and escorted outside. He couldn't stand all the way up because of the soapy enema he was carrying inside him caused him to cramp rather severely. Once he was placed in the proper spot, the bulb was deflated and Martin suffered the humiliation of squatting, not by choice and expelling the enema into a large bucket with a toilet seat on top. It was a humiliating way to do this and the uncontrolled sounds that were made from the expelling enema only made it worse. The male security team laughed at his half sedated half shocked look and then the dance to the cold stream of water being used to rinse the cream off of him and wake him up as he expelled the enema. He was cleaned up and readied for the next step.
      Martin's hair was then shampooed by the woman. She lathered not just his hair, but his entire head. Running her hands across his face forcing him to close his eyes tightly while she lathered his entire head and worked it for several minutes. Martin's hair was rinsed and he was now ready for the next step. The preparation room.

      As Martin stood in the door, he couldn't help but take note of the chair in the middle of the room. It was a styling chair used by hairdressers with chrome arms and base, and the cushions were all a vivid pink color. A very pretty chair. The back of the chair was heart shaped, and almost too Barbie Doll to be real, and much too pretty for a young man to sit in. But that's where the innocence of the chair ended.

    "Hello Martin, have a seat in the chair please," the woman said.

      This woman had a pleasant smile as she spoke.

      Martin pulled back against the grip of the two men that escorted him into the room. The chair was a mass of hanging black leather straps not much bigger than belts.

      "No!" Martin grunted as he tried to twist away.

     The straps hung silently, waiting for Martin to be seated. He would then be securely strapped to the chair and the straps could serve the function for which they were intended. Allowing this woman to do as she pleased with Martin without him being able to interfere or defend himself.

      The calm yet stern looking woman stood beside the chair with a pink cape over her arm, her hand resting on the back of the chair, as she patiently waited for Martin to be placed in the chair and be strapped down.

     "I hope this morning has not been too difficult for you so far? I see you are ready to proceed," she said stepping away from the chair as he was pushed closer.

     "I'm not ready to proceed with anything. What is going on here?" he said being pushed forward again by the men his feet sliding on the floor toward the chair.

     "Sorry Martin, ready or not it is time, so if you would please just have a seat in the chair here, I'll get you strapped in and we can get started," the woman said with a gesture of her hand.

     "What kind of chair is that? What's it for?" Martin said looking at the straps hanging from the chair. He resisted their efforts as he was forced almost next to it now.

     "Well, it's just a styling chair Martin. I'm just going to do your hair. Please have a seat so we can get started," she said pulling a cart with trays of many colors of hair curlers next to the chair.

     "No!" Martin said as he desperately pushed back against the men who were now forcing him to turn backward to the chair so they could lift him and place him in it. Martin was not a big man, standing 5" 7" tall and was no match for these guys.

      "STOP IT," he screamed at them when they were able to handle him so easily. "Let me go!" 
       He struggled with the two handlers, as the stylist stood prepared item she would need while waiting for him to be seated in the chair. Once strapped in she could begin a beauty process on him. A beauty process that would normally be reserved for and appreciated by almost any woman, but not men.

      Martin looked over his shoulder at the chair as he was forcibly turned with his back to the chair. They attempted to seat him in the chair once again only to have Martin kicked at the chair trying to push himself away.

         "NO!! LET GO OF ME YOU BASTARDS!!!"  Martin hissed. 

      Martin was exhausted now. The sedative he had been given had taken much of his energy away as did the high energy of the emotion he was expending.
      The men once again regained control of Martin.

      "Damn it...... STOP!! Don't put me in that chair," he yelled as he was lifted once again off the floor his feet kicking desperately, and he was seated firmly in the chair this time.

      He was secured to the chair immediately. The woman made sure his waist and chest were tightly strapped to the chair first, while his arms were being held by security. Martin looked down at the strap across his chest as his arms were strapped to the arms of the chair.
      The chain then removed from his waist. Martin looked to the woman now waiting to attend him. A large pink plastic cape over her arm once again as she continued to wait patiently for Martin as if he was just a woman client in for her Saturday afternoon hair appointment settling comfortably into the seat to have her hair set. She made eye contact with him but showed no emotions or sympathy at all for his ordeal.

      "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?  WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?" he yelled again teary eyed.

      "It's going to be OK Martin. Please just try and relax," the woman said softly with a smile, gently patting him on the shoulder.

      "STOP IT!" Martin yelled out as his manacles on his ankles were taken off. His legs were spread wide to the side of the chair and each ankle fastened to the foot rest by a leather strap. A strap at the seat secured his legs just above the knees. Once they were done strapping him in the chair they all stepped back and observed as Martin jerked and twisted in his bonds testing the tightly secured straps, unable to get any movement at all.

      "Thank you gentleman. That should be good for now. I will call for you if I need further assistance." the woman said to the security men. They turned and left the room.

     "Please let me go," Martin's voice trailed off watching as the woman adjusted a final strap she felt wasn't tight enough. She pulled it tighter now securing Martin's body totally to the chair and sealing his fate.

      "Martin. Please get a hold of yourself," the woman said walking in front of the chair to face him.
      "First of all, you can stop with the request. I am not going to let you go. I have a lot of work to do, so please just try and compose yourself. I know this is difficult for you, but try and relax. Fighting and screaming, will not change a single thing that is about to happen to you," she said. "So take a deep breath, and I will get started."

      "I don't understand. Why was I kidnapped? Why are you doing this to me?" he pleaded and shook his head violently.

      "Martin," she said softly again trying to settle him down as he struggled against the chair restraints again in total frustration.

      "Let me go," he said as he twisted in vain against the straps again.

      "No, I will not let you go, but instead of fighting so much why don't just try to sit still and cry softly to yourself while I do what I have to do. The emotional release will allow you to let go of all that pent up inner frustration and anger you are feeling right now," she said getting her things together.

      "What? I'm not going to cry for you," he spat out.

      "Yes you will Martin. You men all cry eventually. Cry like little girls. It's nothing to be ashamed of though, it's just an emotional reaction to a frustrating situation you can't change.  Are you comfortable?" the woman asked as she flung out the styling cape and wrapped around his neck.

      "No I'm not comfortable you stupid bitch. Do I look comfortable to you? I'm tied to a chair." Martin was coming out of the sedation now.

      She pumped the foot pump and the chair was now raised to a height that she could work on Martin's hair more easily. She looked in the mirror at Martin and smiled. She stepped up to the side of the chair addressing him in the mirror.

      "Martin, my name is Leanne, and I will be in charge of ...., a few changes that are going to be happening to you today," she said holding up her thumb and finger close together to indicate a small amount. "as well as preparing you for this special day," she said spinning the chair around two times very quickly and then stopping it suddenly just to show him she was in control.

      "What are you going to do to me?" he asked looking around the room then staring at her in the mirror now feeling more and more helpless to stop whatever plans she had for him.

      "Well the first thing I'm going to do is set your hair and get you under the dryer. So first, I need to put you in hair curlers young man. It won't take long for me to set your hair," she said taking the towel away from his head.

      "What? Why? No!" he said watching her prepare things. He watched stunned as she put curlers on the edge of the tray that she was going to use, use on him. They were 1 1/2" brush rollers.

       "Martin, to get a nice formal hairdo you have to have curls in your hair. The only way to get curls in your hair is with curlers," she said holding one up for him to see in the mirror.

      "Don't you put curlers in my hair," he said jerking his head about as she tried to comb his wet hair. "I'm not a fag," he growled.

      "Now now, Martin. Must not talk like that. There is nothing wrong with being a fag," she said. "You seem very upset right now. What's wrong?" she asked looking as if she cared about his answer.

      "What's wrong??? What is wrong??? Are you serious lady? I've been drugged and kidnapped and I'm being held against my will, and for what I don't know. Look at me, I've been violated and my balls were shaved by you guys. Look what you and your perverts did to me. You then painted my nails red," he said spreading his fingers so she could see the ten long red nails he was wearing. "You don't see anything wrong with this? Especially since I was saying NO!" he raged.

      "I'm sorry we weren't able to consult with you first Martin. It was agreed and we felt it might be a good idea to heavily sedate you at first when you were picked up or you would object to coming, and you were still in that sedated state when we had your nails done. Well, we did sedate you a little more when you arrived." she smiled.
      "It's not funny. Look at my fingernails and toenails. No man wants that."      "Are you not happy with the color of the nail polish that I selected for you? I actually like that particular shade of red. I think your toenails are cute and fingernails look very pretty. Brittany did a beautiful job with your manicure and pedicure," she said as she went back to combing his hair. "Very elegant and sophisticated looking."

      "It's not the color of my nails you bimbo," Martin's aggravation growing, "It's the fact that I have long fingernails and my nails are painted. I don't want my nails painted. Men don't wear red nail polish in case you weren't unaware." 

      "What color would you have preferred?" she asked looking at him. "Your toenails need to be red. That's the traditional color for toenails as far as I'm concerned. Most women wear red nail polish on their toenails."

       "None, I don't want them any color at all."

       "Well if it's not the color of the nail polish we have nothing to discuss then do we. Your fingernails have been done and they are long and painted red because that's the way I requested them, and that's the way you will be wearing them today. I didn't know you had a preference and maybe next time we will use a color you desire," Leanne said while fixing his head straight forward so she could get started. "And by the way, I know for a fact some men do wear red nail polish." 

      "Why are you doing this to me? What did I do to you?" he asked watching her applying setting lotion to his hair and combing it through.

      "Do to me? Oh Martin, you didn't do anything to me," she smiled at his statement, "I'm here to do something to you. You are getting married today and I'm here to get you ready for the ceremony."

     "I'm not getting married. You have got the wrong man obviously."      

     "You are Martin Hastings, right? Oh I believe we have the right young man all right."

      "Why am I being humiliated like this?"

     "Humiliated? Oh there's nothing humiliating about getting your hair set and styled Martin. Women have it done all the time. It should be an enjoyable experience for you," she said taking a roller from the tray.

      "I'm not a woman. Stop comparing to a woman," he snapped again in aggravation.

      "Being pampered and fussed over by women doing your hair and nails to make you look and feel pretty, while you sit back and just relax allowing them to work their magic on you. Any woman would be jealous of you right now."

      "Pretty? I'm not pretty, and I'm not any woman! Don't you dare put those things in my hair," he said looking at out of the corner of his eye at the curlers.

      Leanne laughed at the panic he was now demonstrating.

     "But I have to put you in curlers, it's the only way to curl your hair, and we do want lots of curls in your hair for this afternoon don't we?" she said now finishing the combing in of the setting gel.

      "No we don't. You can stop all this nonsense right now. I'm not doing this."

      "Oh yes you are. Now just relax while I curl your hair," she said as she pulled up a strand of hair and picked up a brush roller to begin Martin's hair set. He jerked his head and the strand fell free from her fingers.

        "Could I have a member of security in here please," Leanne called out staring at Martin with a slight smile. 

        A tall broad shoulder woman in a skirted uniform stepped in.

        "We need a little attitude adjustment here please," Leanne said as she backed away and allowed the woman to step behind the chair. "Doesn't want to keep his head still while I curl his hair. I need the Tranquility Box attached."

         "What are you doing?" Martin said when he saw the black leather box that was brought in by the woman security.
          The heart shaped headrest was removed and the box placed on the chair and secured.
         "What is this," Martin looked about frantically.
         "Martin I need your cooperation. You are going to spend a little time here thinking about it and I will be back and we can begin setting your hair."
          Leanne opened the front of the box and pushed Martin's head inside.
         "What are you doing?" Martin said looking about.
         Leanne took a bulb in her hands and pumped it and the rubber bladder inside the box filled in around Martin's head.
         "That's it," she said gently while placing a mouthpiece with a hose in front of him.
         "No," he whined unable to move his head.
         "Yes," she said softly with a caring smile. "You will need this to breath easily."
         "What are you agghhhh..mppfff" he said as she forced the piece in his mouth.
         "Now, I am going to put this over your eyes," she said as she flipped down a leather blind fold. "And I'm going to close the door and lock it. I want you to sit here for a while and think about cooperating with me. We need to get this done."
         "MMMPPPFFF," Martin groaned as the door was closed on the box the bladder was pumped again pressing against Martin's face and filling the rest of the box, and then his groans could not be heard at all.
          Leanne opened his robe wide so his naked male self was exposed. Martin sat perfectly upright this way, with his head in the box unable to see or hear anything. Leanne continued to prep things in the room as she allowed time to pass and adequately Martin to cooperate.
          Martin pulled against his restraints and groaned for about ten minutes, then he was still for a while. After twenty minutes Leanne noticed his shoulders having a little jiggle to them. That meant Martin was crying in his isolated state inside the box.
          Leanne checked her watch. Martin's head had been tightly placed in the box for half an hour now. This was his first experience in the box. Leanne didn't like having to use the box, but when she did she made sure that first experience placed enough desire to cooperate as possible.
          She deflated the rubber bladder and then unlocked and opened the door. She flipped up the leather blindfold. Martin's eye's were red and welled with tears that were running down his cheeks.
          Leanne stood in front of him. She bent over and got close to his face.
          "Martin you realize that I have to do this today, and so do you. I don't expect you to accept it, but I will expect you to cooperate. OK?" she said with another soft smile.
         Martin shook his head in agreement.
 

         "OK, That's good. Now we don't want to have to do this again do we?" she said. "At least not today."

         Martin shook his head no.
         "That's good. Now, we will finish up your box time and then we need to get your hair set in curlers. OK?"
          Martin's eyes got big as she flipped the leather blindfold down again.
          "MMMPPPFFFF!!!!" Martin screamed out as she closed and locked the door and pumped the bladder again diminishing and then extinguishing Martin's groans.
          Martin once again sat in solitary unable to move for another twenty minutes in total silence and darkness not knowing when she would let him out.
           The box was opened again. She removed the blindfold and the gag.   
 

           "Will you sit still and let me put your hair in curlers?" Leanne said looking at him in the box.

          "Yes," he said softly his lip trembling from sobbing. The woman security had a smile on her face as Martin met her gaze then lowered his eyes in shame. She stood by the wall to observe.

        "OK then let's get you out of this box, shampoo your hair and try again"

        After another shampoo Leanne dried her hands on a towel and combed Martin's hair out again. She put the first curler in Martin's naturally sandy blond hair. He clenched his fist and pulled at his restraints as the second curler was rolled into his hair.    

       Though he was sitting still for her, he still had so much pent up anger inside him. The brush type rollers Leanne was using reminded Martin of the curlers his grandmother and aunts used to wear in their hair in the evenings around the house and then to bed. His aunt always wore curlers in her hair to the grocery store draped by large flowered head scarves, as if the scarf made for a better appearance while in public than being seen with curlers and the pink pins twisted in their hair on their heads. It was was just too humiliating for Martin to see himself now being forced into wearing the same curler look on his head as they did.

      "Please stop doing this, I can't deal with this," Martin said softly in a high pitched tone regaining some of his composure.

      "Try and relax. You're doing just fine Martin. I will have your hair set in curlers momentarily. Just be patient, then I will get you under the hair dryer," Leanne said.

      "Men don't do this type of thing," he sobbed again.

      "Who says? You're getting your hair set aren't you? I thought you said you were a man," she said as she worked.

      "I'm being forced I don't want my hair put in curlers," he said through red eyes.

       "Well that's normal Martin. Most women don't like wearing curlers in their hair either. It's just a process that is needed to a hair style."

      "Stop tormenting me. I'm a man not a woman damn it," he sobbed as the curlers kept being rolled in his hair one after the other at a swift steady pace. "I don't care what most women like or dislike. I'm not one of them, stop grouping me with women."

      "I know you're a man. It's obvious Martin. I never said you weren't a man, but I am going to curl your hair anyway, and style it in a very nice elegant up do like a young lady would normally wear to a formal event, and I will do it knowing the entire time you are a man. Like I said earlier it would be best if you could just sit here and keep crying softly to yourself about your frustrations. Get it out of your system hon."

      "Then why? This is disgusting," he said and then watched as his head filled with hair curlers. "If you know I'm a man, then why are you treating me like I'm a woman? I don't like this, and I'm not going to cry for your amusement."

      "I'm not trying to treat you like a woman Martin. Hair is hair. You are getting married today and your hair needs to be done first. Your hair will be in a most feminine style when I'm done I assure you, but that doesn't mean I'm treating you like a woman. You are a man, you are just going to wear your hair a little less manly today than the next guy would let's say at his wedding. I promise you your hair will be very appropriate for the ceremony and you will be proud of the way it looks, and all the onlookers will be impressed," Leanne smiled and stopped for a moment.

      "You're not treating me like a woman? Curlers? Nails painted? Making me do this is not perverted in your eyes?" Martin looked at his head now filled with brush curlers in the mirror. Once again tears ran down his face.

      "I know you haven't been filled in on any of the details of your marriage yet. I didn't want to tell you till we had you dressed and ready to walk out," Leanne said laying down the comb, turning the chair and giving Martin her full attention now.

       "How can I be getting married? I am not even in a relationship right now." Martin voice was whiny.

       "You have been placed in an arranged marriage by your family Martin. That's why the family of your new spouse had the right to sedate and abduct you and bring you here when they did."

       "Arranged marriage?" he thought for a moment, "No," he said softly. "That's crazy. I know nothing about it."

       Leanne dried his eyes.

       "It is not unusual for the 'given spouse' not to know anything in an arranged marriage Martin. The families always seem to wait till the very last minute to inform the soon to be spouse, at least the one who might be inclined to panic and try to run away at the idea of having the decision of marriage being made for them and then being forced to honor that family's life long decision. That's why I have this chair. Less time to think about it and fret over the small things and the inevitable."

      "What things? Like being forced to marry to a complete stranger? Hell yeah I'm upset. Who wouldn't be upset. What if I don't like this woman? Ever think of that? I'm not going to marry some fat or ugly bitch. What does she look like, and why couldn't she get a husband on her own? Is she a closet Lesbian or something? Is that why this girl stuff is being done to me? WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!"

      "Woman? Oh no, no Martin. You will not be marrying a woman today. You are being married to another man. That's why you are being dressed as a bride today. Actually you are going to be the new male bride of Baron Vargos."

      "Male bride?" Martin was stunned at her statement.

      "That's right Martin," she said with wide eyes. "I'm going to do your hair up with curls and bows galore. I will get your face made up pretty. That will include false eyelashes and lipstick by the way. Then you'll be dressed in your wedding dress and a pair of high heels. You'll be just like one of the girl brides"

      "HELL NO! You think I'm going to just sit here and let you dress me up like a woman and force me to marry a man?"

      Martin jerked against his restraints again, throwing his head back and forth.

      "Yes, I do actually," she said now returning to behind the chair. "These straps you are wearing will see to that. That's why you are strapped in the chair and I have the Baron's security team to help me if needed."

      "Is that what this is all about? I absolutely refuse to marry anybody especially a man," he said as he watched her netting his hair. 

     His frustrations grew from the fact he couldn't move and the fact she just kept doing as she pleased with him and he couldn't stop her.

      "Martin look, the Baron is a very fine catch. Do you realize how many women have been vying for his attentions for over a year now?" she said grinning. "And now you Martin have captured his heart, and you two are going to be married this afternoon."

      "NO! That can't be. Listen Leanne, I'M NOT GAY!" he yelled out once again on the edge of tears.

      "Doesn't matter." 

     "You can't do this to me without my consent, and I say no way. I will not consent to this marriage. Let me go."

      "Your consent Martin? Your consent was given by your family. That's all that was needed. It's an arranged marriage. This has been arranged by the two families. It is a perfectly legal, though I grant you it is a bit unusual for a man or even a woman of your age to be having a marriage arranged for them. Men are not usually placed in these type marriages, especially with another man, but it has happened before."

      "My family would never have agreed to this type of thing. Arranged marriages are for women, men don't get placed in arranged marriages. You're lying."

      "Well that's a bit sexist isn't it Martin? Arranged marriages are good for the girls but not the guys? I'm afraid you are wrong, equal rights you know. You will be wed today in a same sex ceremony Martin. These arranged marriages are not very common I grant you, especially same sex marriages which are very rare indeed, but they are as legal as any other marriage."

      "But I am not a woman." He seemed confused and on the verge of tears now.

      "Oh, I know you're not a woman. That's why it's a same sex marriage. We are not trying to make you into a woman here, but we are preparing and dressing you as a bride, which is what you are today. Men can be brides too Martin and you get to be one today."

      "You're crazy lady. I can't do this. I don't want to be dressed like a girl."
       Martin couldn't help but start crying again in frustration.

      "Please try and understand Martin, it's not up to you any more. You have no say in this at all. Having you dressed in women's clothes and being powdered, painted and perfumed like a woman is your husband's request and desire, and that's why we are doing this."

      "I don't care what he wants. I'm the one being violated and humiliated here. What about my feelings? I've never met this man. What gives him the right to degrade my masculinity like this?" Tears again ran down Martin's face.

      "He is to be your husband, and that gives him every right to degrade your masculinity to what ever levels he see's fit I'm afraid. Please Martin you are over reacting."

      "OVER REACTING? Look at me. I didn't consent to being made to look like a fool."

       "Once you and the Baron are married and you have exchanged vows, your husband will be the one who makes these decisions for you from now on. The unfortunate thing about some arranged marriages is that often the bride not only marries an unwanted husband but, it is also decided she should lose her right to self determination and self expression."

      "No, this is insane." he said lowering his curler filled head.

      "I'm sorry Martin, but you have lost your rights to self determination and self expression with this marriage. You will dress and appear according to your husbands wishes and desires, which he has decided will be you appearing as an attractively dressed woman all the time. He will also control all your financial and private affairs for you. He will also have the right to discipline or have you disciplined when he feels needed."

       "What? I'm not a child," Martin said desperately.

       "No you're not, but you'll be the Baron's wife, and subject to his authority and discipline methods.  It was all agreed on by the families. You will have to persuade your husband to change his mind if you don't want to wear women's dresses, high heels and having your hair done any more. I'm just doing as I'm instructed. In the mean time though, you will be dressed as a bride and wear a beautiful wedding dress today for the ceremony. I will have it brought in on a dress stand and have it placed in front of you so you can admire it while you are under the dryer," she said.

      "Don't force me to do this Leanne. For god's sake I'm not a fag. Get someone else, I'm sure there are plenty of young male perverts out there that are just like you guys that would love to do this, but I'm not one of them. Pick someone else." Martin was now sobbing with his head hung low.

     "The Baron has picked you. He negotiated with your family, they apparently came to an agreement, and as a result you will become his legally wedded wife this afternoon. Nothing you say now can change that and nothing you do will prevent it from happening."

      "But why?" Martin whined shaking his head full of curlers.

      "Because he loves you, and wants to share his life wuth you," she said.

      "He can't love me. I don't know him."

      "Doesn't matter," she said patting his head.

      Leanne said nothing else but looked at Martin in the mirror as she unsnapped the cape and removed it. Martin noticed a grin that broke out on the face of the female attendant who was standing next to the wall watching.

      "What are you smiling at bitch? Enjoying the view you pervert? Something turning you on here? Need to go rub your pussy against some guys leg for awhile?" he sneered at her. She never changed her expression and continued to watch.

      Leanne brought the hair dryer and pulled the elastic band around Martin's curlers so the soft bonnet with the bright blue floral designs covered his head. There was a three foot length of hose that hooked to the main unit. Leanne switched it on high heat and adjusted the bonnet slightly. The bonnet inflated into a nice mushroom shape on his head, and there Martin sat humiliated with his hair in curlers now being dried under a hair dryer.

      Leanne smiled as she dismissed the security.

      "That will be all for now. Thank you. We'll be fine while his hair is drying." She then directed her attention to Martin.

      "I'll be right back," Leanne said turning to leave.

       "Leanne, please listen to me I'm not gay," he said now lifting his head tears running down his face.

       "I know Martin, but once again it doesn't really matter," she said leaving the room. 

       Even though Leanne had told Martin what was happening to him and why it was happening, he couldn't comprehend it. He knew about arranged marriages though they weren't legal where he was from. They were not common even here, but then not considered controversial in any way either. It was an accepted custom and was still law and still practiced.

       Martin knew young women were sometimes placed in marriages that the families had arranged for them. Most of the time bettering the woman's social standing along with her families. The young women weren't always happy about it, and some even resisted or refused to go along after finding out they had been betrothed by their family to a man of their choosing. All these women were married to the men just the same. It is said some were even crying and pleading with their families to stop the wedding as it was in progress with hands bound behind their backs as the ceremony proceeded that sealed their fates to their new spouses, but Martin had figured that these women all adjusted with time to their new social and private lives with their husbands. After all they were women being married to men and that was normal in his eyes.

      He had never heard of a man being forced into such a marriage with a woman nor had he ever heard of someone being forced into a gay arranged marriage situation. Especially when one of the people wasn't even gay in nature. It just didn't make sense to him.

      "This is crazy!!" he yelled out now crying a steady stream of tears.

       The door opened and Leanne and another young girl about 18 years old entered pushing a dress makers stand that was fitted with a beautiful white wedding dress. It had an extension above the dress that held the veil.

     The dress was knee length with tiers of horizontal lace and ruffles about the skirt. The top of the dress was strapless, leaving the bride with elegantly bared shoulders. The bodice was beaded with many rows of white beads and bows.

      It was wheeled in and placed directly in front of Martin. The young girl unable to control a sudden burst of laughter at seeing this crying man sitting strapped in the chair with his nails painted red and hair rollers under the dryer. She covered her mouth with her hand as she continued to laugh and looked away. It would have been considered rude to laugh at Martin without covering ones mouth. Laughter was frowned upon, but the Baron had made exceptions in this case as long as the person covered their mouth. It had to be made because a man dressing as a woman to be married to another man was so uncommon, it did instill different spontaneous reactions in people. Especially the women.

      "Take it out of here. I'm not dressing up in that," he hissed as he looked at it through his tears.

     "Oh yes you are Martin. This is your wedding dress. Isn't it just beautiful?" Leanne said walking in the door as the girl giggled even more knowing that this guy was going to be dressed fully as a woman here in just a short while. It didn't seem to bother her at all that he was strapped in the chair and arguing against the marriage.

      "No please, take it away, I don't want to look at it," he said looking at Leanne now his face grimaced in emotional distress and tears.

      "You will look at it and you will wear it. I'll be back in a little bit and check to see if your hair is dry. I'll give you some time alone with your thoughts. See the crying does help. Keep crying."

      "Please, I'm not gay," he shouted at the closed door now.

      He looked at the dress his fingers gripping the chair arms tightly. His eyelids dropped as he looked at his red painted toenails.

     "They can't make me be gay, they just can't." He looked around the room then at the dress. "Oh my god, I don't want to do this," he said softly now to nobody tugging futilely at his restraints again.

      "I don't want to be the bride." Martin sat quietly crying resigned now to the fact he couldn't get out of the chair. He hung his head now as he waited for the dryer to dry his hair so Leanne could create feminine curls and build a beautiful bride's up do to his once masculine hair.

      "Somebody please let me go!" Martin said softly one last time into the empty room. The door opened slowly and a pretty young woman looked inside.

      "Missy?" he said. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked as he fidgeted in the chair trying to cover himself in some way from his embarrassing situation, but unable too move. His legs were strapped to the chair his knees spread apart.

      "Martin?"

      "Get me loose Missy."

      "Hi Martin. I heard you call out. Are you OK?" She had a huge grin on her face as she looked him over for the first time since they had started processing him for the wedding. "Just checking in to see how you were doing," she then giggled looking down at his toenails. He tried to curl his toes under so she couldn't see his toenails had been painted red but it was useless. She saw them with no problem.

     "Oh my," she said with a giggle at his apparent discomfort. "Look at you."

      "I should have known. You're part of this aren't you. Is this some kind of practical joke, because it's not funny. I'm not a bride and you know it. Let me go Missy," he said as he jerked hard against the restraints one more time in frustration.

      Missy walked about the room. She was a "socialite deluxe" you might say, but Martin saw her as the phony and the gold digger she really was. A social status climber looking for a life of luxury and wealth using her looks and sex appeal to achieve both of those goals.

      Missy had always wore her hair and up high on her head, pulled tightly up off her neck and ears, and teased and sprayed big in curls and it was kept platinum blond at all times. Not a single hair was ever out of place on this woman. It was a lacquered look. Today she had let her hair down and she was even more sexy than ever. She always seemed as if she had just stepped out of a beauty salon in the 70's and she was always attractively made up, though he felt the false eyelashes she wore and bright red lipsticks were a little much in public for a girl her age.

      Today Missy was wearing designer jeans and red 5" spike heels. She wore a white peasant blouse that was unbuttoned low to reveal her ample, "store bought" cleavage. Her nails were beautifully manicured a bright, bright red and were rather long. Martin didn't find nails that long very attractive on women. It was a gaudy look in his opinion, someone just try to attract attention, and he wondered how she could even think that they looked attractive at all. She looked around as she strutted her way into the room smiling. Then she casually walked over to Martin. She bent over and began to loosen the tie around his waist on the satin robe he was wearing.

      "What are you doing Missy?" Martin said. He panicked when she opened the robe revealing his naked shaved body. She lay the robe open and ran her fingers up his inner thigh and stopping just short of his balls. Martin jumped as she lifted his penis with two fingers.

      "Stop it Missy," he snarled at her. "Stop touching me and cover me up." She smiled as she inspected the shave job done on his pubic hair. She ran her fingers over the newly shaved area above his penis and then his balls.

      "What's this Martin? New clean look for you isn't it, or have you been secretly shaving your balls for years and not telling me about it?" she giggled.

      "Stop doing that damn it."

      "Nice close shave Martin. Very smooth, and very appropriate I guess." She gave his penis a quick observation, "I didn't know you weren't circumcised Martin. Had I known earlier I would have disussed it with your father and we would of had it done. I would have insisted on it," she said giving it a quick shake and lay the large but limp phallus over on his leg.

      "What do you want?" he snarled at her, "and cover me up."

      Martin hated Missy with such a passion, and with good cause. Missy was Martin's stepmother. She was also two years younger than him. Martin had just turned twenty seven and Missy was now twenty five years old. Hell, they had gone to the same high school together and even shared a class at one point.

      She was twenty years old when she had married his father, who was a shipping tycoon, and she moved into Martin's life. She had always carried herself as if she was someone of social significance, but she wasn't. Even talking to Martin and treating him as if he was really her son and his father didn't seem to have a problem with that. Martin never would participate in her little social games and detested her for her arrogance. He also held her responsible for his two marriages failing. He had always felt she was the one who talked his dad into forcing him into the annulments of his previous two marriages, but they were both recorded as divorces so the women could receive alimony payments.

      Martin was very conscious of being naked now that she had opened his robe. He was both irritated and humiliated at the grin on her face.

      "What is her part in all this?" his mind thought. He had never been naked in Missy's presence before, much less with the added humiliation of having his body shaved and his nails polished red and his hair in curlers. He felt extremely embarrassed having to sit strapped in this chair helpless like this in front of her and she was not offering to help release him.

       She grinned, then giggled as she admired him and said, "Pretty toenails Martin. Nice color of nail polish," she said looking down at his feet having to keep her smile from breaking into a grin. "You know, I've always said you were a real man's man, and now it looks like you're actually going to be a man's man." She giggled as she walked over to the wedding dress that was on the stand.

      "What's going on here Missy?" he hissed. "Why am I really here? What are you up to now? I don't buy this marriage crap. You'd better not be filming this as some prank of yours. I will not say I agree to this just so you and your friends can laugh watching video of me saying I was willing to marry a man. Forget it. Come over here and undo these straps. Let me go. The joke is over."

      "Martin.....sweetie, I am here for the wedding. I was contacted and asked if I'd fly here and give away the bride on your dads behalf, God rest his soul," she said as she lifted the skirt of the wedding dress and admired it.

      "I'm not a bride damn it. Stop saying that." He now could see her pushing him to admit something.

      "This is such a beautiful dress Martin, I mean it really is stunning honey," she smiled and turned to look at him. "I can't believe you're going to actually be wearing this dress down the aisle today in front of a church full of people," she looked back at him and then giggled at the thought. "I'm so jealous, I would have loved to wear a dress like this on my wedding day, but I had a rather progressive wedding ceremony. I was married nude in someones back yard. I think his name was Jack, a friend of your fathers."

      "I'm not wearing a dress," he said breathing heavy now and feeling warm because of the dryer.

      "Oh Martin stop it, sure you are wearing a dress and I'm sure the dress will look just lovely on you sweetheart, I'll be so proud of you," she laughed as she turned to face him again. 

      Missy picked up one of the 6" white high heels that was sitting next to the dress on the floor. She held it up and turned to face Martin.

      "Oh my sweetie. Look at these Fuck Me pumps. Six inch heels. I can't wait to see how gracefully you manage these down the aisle." She looked at the shoe again.

      "I'm not wearing the dress Missy. I am not going to let them humiliate me by dressing me up like a woman, and parade me down the aisle to be laughed at for some make believe wedding. This wedding thing is all bullshit. I'm done with this. Get me out of here. Unstrap me damn it," he growled. "Let my arms loose."

      Missy admired her nails as if bored by all his complaining. Taking some advantage of the situation at hand, and having to always put up with Martin's crap in the past, she was tired of him disrespecting her and trying to tell her what she should do. He should respect her wishes since she was his stepmother after all and he was the stepson.

      "Martin honey, how many times have I asked you to call me mother? Hmmm?" She lifted her eyes to look at him, with a look that indicated she was in the driver seat of this conversation now.

      "Are you serious? You're not my mother, for Christ sake your two years younger than me. Why would I call you mother?" he spat out trying to twist himself in the chair now to somehow get free. "I'll call you a bitch if you like."

      "Call me mother. I used to like when you did that Martin. I would like it again very much. It would give our mother/son relationship much more warmth and meaning to me," she ran her finger across his cheek. "Your father agreed with me on this you know. He felt you should address me as mother also. He told you so himself. He made you do it for a while too after I requested it."

      "WHAT? My dad suggested to me once that you would like to be called mother. I said hell no."
      "But you did for a while and it was wonderful." She said softly.
      "No....that was before I moved out and it was to appease my father at the time. And you and I don't have a relationship Missy. None at all. You are a crazy messed up bitch!" His anger and frustration pouring out of him now.
     "Sweetheart, mommy loves you," she said turning away with a giggle now.
     "What are you getting out of all this? Is this all about degrading me? Saying I'm to marry a man, having me call you mother, and then trying to dress me like a girl? Your filming this aren't you. Wanting me to agree with this and humiliate myself so you can catch it on film and use it to humiliate me with your bimbo friends. Wait till I get out of here you bitch."

      "Well........" Missy said with a deep sigh leaning over to close Martin's robe, "I can see you are just way too emotional right now for us to have a little mother, son talk. Would you like your robe open or closed?" she asked looking at him and smiling at her control.

      "Closed," he snapped at her.

      "OK," she said as she opened the robe and left Martin's penis and shaved pubes exposed. "I was hoping my son would agree with me. I'd do anything for my son you know. I imagine preparing for your wedding day and all, you are very preoccupied right now in anticipation of it all. I'll come back in a little bit. I'll give you a few minutes to settle down honey. Maybe after they have put the dress on you we can have that mother/son talk." She walked out the door, her ass making those jeans work for her.

     "Wait! Missy........cover me up," Martin called to her but she didn't turn around. "MISSY!"

      Martin was stunned. Had she gone mad too? Did she seriously think this was all real? She was involved and he knew it. He was so angry she had caught him in such a compromised way. Naked and defenseless, not to mention he was wearing red nail polish. He felt like she had just appraised his situation, checked him over real good, gave it some thought, given her approval and just left him there. Martin's thoughts were interrupted suddenly.

      "How you doing hon? Hanging in there OK?" A middle aged woman walked in.

      "What are you going to do to me?" Martin asked watching her move things around.

      "Leanne is running a little late so I'm going to check your hair to see if you're dry yet." She glanced down and saw his penis. She looked away quickly concentrating her gaze on the task at hand ignoring Martin's exposed male genital.

      "Excuse me,...I....First of all, could you please cover me with something? I feel very uncomfortable sitting here like this. I'm naked for Christ sake." Martin was surprised at the woman's level of indifference to his exposed body as she ignored him.

      "Just relax hon while I get this bonnet off your head," she said stretching the elastic band and pulling it over the curlers. She let him sit for a moment as she put the bonnet down. She put her palms on curlers and held them firmly for a moment.

      "What the hell is going on here? This can't be happening to me," he said softly and turning his head again.

      "Please hold still sir," she said turning his head back so she could continue checking his hair.

      She took the roller at the top front of his head and unrolled it allowing the hair to spring back into place. She then removed another roller at the the bottom back of his head and allowed it to also coil itself back. She took a spray bottle with a light setting lotion in it and gently misted his entire head again.

       "What the hell are you doing," Martin complained as his head was moved all around as she misted his hair. She then put the front roller back in his hair and did the back one next. Martin pulled his head away as she got ready to put the dryer back on his head.

      "Hey," he winced as she firmly pulled his head back gripping the rollers. "Will you stop that. I don't want my hair rolled," he looked back at her. "Look I don't want my hair curled, so stop what you're doing. I want to get out of here. Get somebody in here to let me go."

      "That's enough hon. You can take your issues up with someone else. I'm here to make your hair is drying properly and the curls are firmly set. You need a little more time under the dryer so just hold still while I get this dryer bonnet back on your head."

      Martin sat quietly, fuming with frustration, as his entire head had been set in tight straight rows of brush rollers like some older woman in for her weekly shampoo and set at the local beauty salon. She patted the rollers with her palms. Straight rows of pink pins were the first thing Martin noticed when he saw himself in the mirror. His hair all pulled up tight on curlers.

      "I look like some kind of fagot," he said to himself looking at his image in the mirror.

      "OK hon hold it right there." She then slipped the hood back over his head and turned the dryer back on high. The dryer bonnet puffed up again. "There you go young man. It won't take much longer."

      "Oh thank you so much. I can't wait," Martin said in a mocking falsetto voice at her.

      "Your welcome sir," she said patting his shoulder as if he was being genuine and leaving the room.

      "Bitch," Martin said under his breath as she closed the door.

       The sound of the dryer drown out most of Martin's hearing. After about ten minutes he didn't hear her enter, but he recognized those red high heels that approached the chair. Missy was back.

      Missy sat in a chair next to Martin.

      "Missy, Please, what is this all about? Is this some kind of wild 'got cha' thing? If it is please stop it now. Get me out of here," he said trying to convince her to help him, and trying to convince himself now that this was and elaborate charade being played on him.

      She crossed her legs slowly. "Martin, honey please, call me mother. Or better yet, call me mommy. I can't do anything right now to change this," she said reaching for his robe.

      "There...That's better." she said pulling his robe over his penis to help calm him. "Besides Martin, I understand you will be married soon, why are you so eager to get out of this room. The groom is not suppose to see you before the ceremony anyway," she spoke as a matter of fact. "Don't you know anything about marriage traditions?"

      "Who is this guy Missy? There just can't be a wedding like this, it isn't possible. There just can't be." He shook his head still in disbelief, still feeling he was being watched. "Men just can't be forced to dress like women and then be married to another man."

      "You will see him at the ceremony sweetheart. When he lifts your veil," she said seductively taking his chin in both of her hands and gently kissing him on the lips, "and kisses you on the lips like that, you will be able to see him all you like," she smiled rubbing his inner thigh to calm and comfort him.

      "Damn it Missy, stop talking like that. I'm not gay, and you know it. Tell them that."

      "I know you're not gay Martin. They know you're not gay also, that's why you are tied to that chair. You're as straight a man as I've ever known," she said softly, rubbing higher on his thigh. "You love the touch of a woman, don't you," she said sliding her hand further up his thigh.

      "If you say this is not a joke, then why is this all happening to me? Why doesn't he find some other gay man who would like all this done to them? Why me?" he hissed.

      "I guess there is no law that says you have to be a gay man to get married to another man. It's not a requirement." She chuckled slightly with her eyes down. "You'll get used to the lifestyle after awhile I suppose. I figure it will take longer for you to get accustomed to people staring at you dressed in women's clothes in public than it will the actual sexual aspects of the marriage. At least that will be kept private in your bedroom," she said looking down at his red toenails again.

      "Sex?....What do you mean sex..." He shook his head. The image of him being taken now crossed his mind. "Missy, Oh no. I'm not doing that. You expect me to have sex with this guy? I'm a guy and I like girls," he spat out.

      "Guys do have sex with other guys all the time Martin," she said calmly. "I know you like girls, I guess that is going to be a little bit of a touchy situation for you in he future."

      "Not me...no way I'm allowing that man or any man to have sex with me," he hissed giving some resistance to Missy. "They can't just put a dress on me call me his wife and expect me to allow him to screw me!"

      "Martin, honey yes they can, and that's what they are going to do... I'm sorry but you must settle down and listen to me now." She adjusted herself and faced him seriously.

      "This is not some kind of joke. It's all very real honey."

       She took his hand in hers and rubbed the length of his long red fingernails as she looked at them and continued,

     "Once the wedding ceremony is over, you and this man will be a legally married couple in the eyes of the law, and this man will be your lawfully wedded husband. Baby he is going to want to have sex with his new wife, and I'm afraid that wife is going to be you."

She lowered her eyes before proceeding, "It will be his right as your husband to have sex with you. He will consummate the marriage in the traditional manner, and as of the wedding vows, he will be free to exercise those rights whether you agree or not. You will be participating with him dressed in some kind of sexy women's lingerie I would assume, like a female bride would............. and, well I'm told, you will start living life as a full time "transvestite". A man who likes to dress as a woman.  I know it's all a little confusing and all of a sudden honey. Do you understand what I'm saying?" she said in a sympathetic voice.

      Tears ran down Martin's face for the first time. Tears of frustration.

      "Missy....

      "Mother honey, call me mother," she interrupted.

        "I'm not calling you that. It's degrading. You're not my mother Missy. You're my stepmother, only by law," he said with anger.

      "Call me mother Martin, I would appreciate that very much. I would be much more willing to help my son if there was anything I could do, if he called me mother," she said with a knowing look.

      "No. it's childish," he spat out.

      "But it's what I want Martin," she said looking him firmly in the eye.

      Martin lowered his eyes and stared at the floor.

     "Mother....do something about this? Are they really going to let them go through with this?" he asked her as she lifted his chin again.

      "I'm afraid so Martin. It's not up to me, I can't stop the wedding. The fact you're restrained as you are in that chair tells me they are very serious about this. I can be there when they dress you for your wedding. They would like me to be there for pictures. I understand it's traditional for the mother of the bride and the bridesmaids to all witness the dressing of the bride, male or female. After that I'll only be able to see you occasionally," she said quietly.

      "I'm sorry Mis....mother, I can't get a grasp on this. I can't believe it's real. It's all so surreal," he said shaking his head.

      "I'm sorry Martin, but it's very real honey."

      "Please undo my wrist so I can get out of here," he said turning to her. She ran her nails gently down his back and touched the straps that held him to the chair.

      "Mother, please undo the straps. Let me take my chances."

      He watched as she touched the buckles on his wrist and tugged gently at the end of the leather strap sticking out the end of the buckle. She pulled it out and all she had to do was open the buckle. She placed both hands on the buckle as if she were about to unbuckle his wrist, then she slowly patted his hand put the strap back in and removed her hands.

       "I'm sorry Martin. It would not work right now. Even if I did unbuckle all the straps for you and let you out of that chair," she said softly. "They would just bring you back honey."

       In walked Leanne. She was accompanied by the two attendants.

      "It's time to start preparing the bride," Leanne said walking into the room.

      "Stop, please stop this," he said as his head was bent forward by Leanne. Missy stood to leave the room.

      "Miss........Mother. Don't leave me here like this," he called to her as she walked out the room. "Don't let them do this to me."

      "She can't do that Martin. We are going to do your hair and makeup now," Leanne said removing the dryer then taking out one of his rollers and letting the hair coil itself back to his head.

      "YOU CAN'T MAKE ME GET MARRIED!!! I won't do it," he yelled at Leanne.

      "Now, Martin." Leanne stopped what she was doing to address Martin, "You will listen. I do have some prior experience in this. I have done other arranged gay weddings for men like this before."

      "But I'm not gay!" Martin whined sounding a bit hopeless now.

      "That's enough of the you're not gay. Your family has agreed to this marriage and this type of marriage for you. They all knew it was to be a gay marriage. They signed affidavits to that effect. It is the equal rights aspect of the law Martin, not the gay aspect that binds you here. Since same sex marriages now are seen as equivalent to traditional marriages. If it is lawful for a female to be placed in a marriage with a man, then it has to be legal for a male to be placed in a marriage with a man. This is an arranged marriage Martin. Your family has agreed to this marriage and this type of marriage. They purposely placed you in a gay marriage. That part is done, so it does not matter if you are gay or not, you are being married to this man."

      "But I don't want to marry him."

      "Three other men I have worked with were just as adamant as you about not getting married to their new husbands. This chair was designed for these type situations. All three of those men were strapped in this very same chair you are in right now." Leanne looked at Martin firmly and then softened her look.

       "But I don't want to marry a man."

       "Listen Martin, I know it's a bit scary having such a sudden and drastic change in your life, but you're going to be just fine."

       "No I'm not."

       "One of the male brides I helped has been married for two years and the other four years. One was just recently widowed. Each one of them was a beautiful bride. They all consummated their marriages, receiving their husband's semen on the wedding night. Some were less willing than others, but fact is they all were seeded by their husbands and their marriages consummated.
     "Three each live their daily lives dressing as women, and are publicly accepted for what they are, which is "feminized men." I have heard rumors that one of them is being required to have a sex change."
     "What?" They can force a man to change his sex?"
      "Your husband can, but that would require a rework of the marital contract as it wouldn't be a same sex marriage any more."
      "What does that poor guy think of having a sex change?" Martin asked with a shocked look.
      "Well Martin, does it really matter what he thinks? It's been arranged. It's going to be done........Look, I seriously doubt the public will ever think you are really a woman. That is not my intent, as you are not a woman, nor do we ever wish you to be mistaken for a woman. Passing totally as a woman in public probably won't ever happen for you, but you will be in a same sex, gay marriage, which will make your feminine appearance at least somewhat socially acceptable to most people."

      "Oh my god, I can't live like that," he said shaking his head.

      "You will take The Baron's last name the same as any bride would and be referred to as his Mrs. and then later receive the title Lady Vargos after the consummation period of your marriage is over. That will take three days and then you will be presented to the public. Now I don't expect full cooperation from you at this point, that's what the restraints are for, but please at least try and relax." She put a cape around his neck.

      "Martin. We are going to do your makeup first. Now take it easy. We can do this with as little discomfort as you like.

      "You can't make me do this, you know," he hissed at her in defiance.

      "Yes I can,"

      Martin watched as they prepared the makeup they were going to use on him. They checked a few lipsticks and decided on the brighter red. Martin saw the false eyelashes false and said "No Way!" as he once again tested his bonds, only able to move his head. He realized she was right and he was about to have all that makeup put on his face and he was helpless to stop it. A woman poked her head the door.

      "Martin. Your mother wants 20 minutes with you before we continue, so we will be back," Leanne said patting the top of his rollered head. They left the room and Missy entered.

      "Hi honey" she said entering the room and closing and locking the door behind her. "You feeling any better?" she asked, as she walked sexily to the counter.

     "What do you think Missy? I'm having control of my life stripped away from me. What do you want?" he grumbled watching her suspiciously. "Come to get a few more laughs before the main event?" he sneered trying to see what she was doing behind him.

      "First of all, I want you to call me mother if you want any assistance from me in the future. Got that young man?" she said pointing her finger at him.

      "Missy, I'm older than you and it's weird calling a girl younger than me mother like a baby. OK, you married my dad, so what. Why would I want to call you mother?" he said glaring at her.

      "Well let's see," she said putting her finger to her lips as if studying his situation. "You are a young man sitting here strapped naked in a heart shaped styling chair with curlers in your hair and your nails are painted ...... RED! Duh! And you are about to be married, "for happily ever after" to a man you've never met, who will probably spend tonight sticking his rather large dick up your ass so you can receive his semen and consummate the marriage, and I'm the only person you have to discuss it with," she smiled, "So...What do you say Martin? What is my name?"

       "Mother," he said softly.

       "Oh thank you sweetheart. That makes me feel very special," she said kissing him on the cheek.

      "You've lost your mind," Martin thought to himself but said nothing.

      "Now honey, mother wants to do something very special for her son now before he gets married, that is if you'll let me."

      "What are you up to?" he asked looking at the items she had.

      "Martin, starting today these people are going to be giving you medication to keep you from having erections.....shots. What I mean to say is you are going to have a limp dick from now on, unless of course your husband changes his mind. Your dick is going to just hang there not as a testament of your manhood but rather as a confirmation piece that you are not really a woman."

      "Wait! He can't just do that to me." He pulled at the straps. "Let me go," he said his face red with anger. Things just kept getting worse it seemed.

      "I'm sorry Martin, I'm afraid he can. It's my understanding that's the way your husband wants it." She looked at him thoughtfully. "He doesn't want you to be able to have erections anymore. So you won't. He has the right to make that decision for you, and to do so without discussing it with you."

      "Who the hell does he think he is telling me I can't have a hard on? That's too much Miss.....mother. This dress up game has got to end now," Martin yelled.

      "He is to be your husband Martin, that's who he is, and if he says no erections for you, then that's how it will be," she said. "He has the say so."

      "If you wish to have one last orgasm though before it's too late...... well, I'll help you with it." She looked at him raising an eyebrow.

      "What?" He looked surprised.

      "I'll give you a handjob Martin. Kind of a last fling with a pretty girl." She smiled a little blush in her cheeks. "Do you want to feel that wonderful sensation of your semen rising up from your balls and out the end of your dick one last time? Of course you do." She gave him a sexy wink.

      "Mom....mother, I'm not exchanging my desires for girls for this guy," he hissed.

      "I'm afraid you are Martin. At least sexually you are. You may not sexually desire him, but you will still be having sex with him tonight.You won't be needing a hard on."

     "Stop saying that." 

      "I'm very sorry about that honey. Listen baby, I am willing to jerk you off though, if you would like me to do that for you. After you are married you won't be able to have erections anymore. Your husband will be the only one having the erections from now on."

      Missy then turned around and bent over to retrieve something from her purse, she turned around and produced a what looked like along pink vibrator. She looked at him waving a 10" vibrating dildo as if to entice him......."Well?"

      "What are you planning to do with that?" he looked at her suspiciously.

      "It's just a vibrator Martin. Don't worry I'm not going to bend you over and give you a prenup or anything like that, well unless you would prefer that."

      "Shut up! Since you are feeling so generous today mother dear, why don't you just get on your knees and suck my dick and swallow it all like a real woman? I think one last blowjob is much more appropriate don't you?," he said in a sarcastic way.

      "Sorry Martin," she said with a smirk on her face. "Blowjobs are for real men honey, and I have no problems giving head, but boys that paint their toenails red get handjobs from a girl not blowjobs. I'll jerk you off if you want me to. That's it," she grinned tapping the dildo on her cheek waiting for him to answer.

      No man in his right mind would pass up this offer from a woman like Missy. She was a beautiful young woman and her straight forward approach was very exciting.

      "Yeah....do it," he said looking away as if a little perturbed at the way she had approached it all it.

      She put on a pair of rubber gloves and took his penis in her hand and lifted it so his balls were exposed.

      "Do you have to wear rubber gloves?" Martin said watching her.

      "Yes Martin, I'll be wearing gloves to do this. Just close your eyes and enjoy the feeling and you won't even notice the gloves," she said looking at his balls as if deciding how she wanted to start.

      The gloves made it so impersonal somehow. She took the vibrator and turned it on high. The buzz of the vibrating phallus filled the room. Lightly touching the undersides of his balls with the vibrating dildo, she rolled his penis slowly in her hand. Martin moaned as he began to become erect very quickly.

      "Does that feel good honey? This is a good vibrator, it's the one I use when I masturbate." The words she spoke caused an erotic vision in his mind. He pictured her in bed with this dildo inserted fully in her pussy, working it in and out as she reached orgasm, and now she was sharing that same vibrator with him.

      She continued to fondle him in delicious ways as his penis grew more and more erect. He looked at her pretty face as she gazed at his erection and fondled him as if it meant as much to her as it did him. She seemed very happy with his erection now. He was well endowed young man. She slid her hand up his erection and let go allowing it stand hard and erect on its own. The head was protruding out prominently and turning purple. Missy could double fist Martin's erection and the head would still clear her hands easily. She then slid a condom over the end of his penis.

       "What's that for?" he said in a heavy breath.

       "Just hush sweetheart."

       Missy stood in front of Martin and unbuttoned her blouse and removed it exposing her large breast and erect ringed nipples. She then squirted out a generous helping of lubricant into her gloved hand. She looked into his eyes smiling dreamily and began to stroke his erection. The squishy sounds of the lubricant and Martin's heavy breathing filled the room. He moaned as he felt pleasure running through his loins.

      "Oh yeah baby.......Oh sweetheart..... Doesn't this feel sooo.....good honey?" she asked stroking him at steady fast pace.

      "Yes," he exhaled.

      "You like having your dick masturbated by a pretty girl like this don't you honey," she said sexily.

      "Yes......." he moaned.

      "I want to ask you something. Do you like my titties?" she said putting her lips to his ear, never losing the rhythm.

      "Yes......" he gasped barely getting it out.

      "You don't think they are too big?" she said as she held his head firmly with her free hand and stuck her tongue in his ear and aggressively explored it.

      "Uhhh......." Martin squeaked as she started exploring his ear with her tongue. His legs tightened up as his pelvis leaned into her steady stroking. His red painted toes curled under as his body strained against his bonds. His legs began to tremble.

      "That's it sweetie. Cum for momma. I want you to have a huge orgasm like a real man," she cooed in his ear. She held Martin's head firmly and then she kissed Martin very deeply and passionately on the lips as his orgasm began to take control of him.

      "MMPPFFFFF," he moaned against her lips as her tongue entered his mouth. Martin began to ejaculate into the condom on what was to be his last orgasm. She kept jerking him as his orgasm continued. She released her kiss.

      "Oh baby, that's it. Cum some more for mommy," she said in a passionate voice. "Oh that's it."

      "OH YES," he yelled as she pumped what was to be his last load of semen into the condom. Then his body went limp in his bonds. His breathing very heavy. Missy smiled as she watched him sigh with deep satisfaction.

     "How was it sweetheart?" she asked standing up straight looking down at him.

     "Oh god that was great," he said looking at this new found treasure.

     "Of course it was," she said as if any other answer would be a lie. She took the condom off his penis, and then the gloves off her hands.

     "Not bad," she said holding the condom up looking at the amount of semen he had just ejaculated into it. "Nice load," she said patting his cheek.

      It had been a mind boggling orgasm for Martin. Was it the moment? The restraints or just Missy being so good that made his orgasm so thunderous.

      "That's the kind of things I do for my male friends, and I'm pretty good at it, wouldn't you say?" she looked at his crotch and smiled.
      "I'm sure you have jerked a lot of cocks in your time," Martin said with sarcasm.

      "Damn Martin, you really do have a big dick you know," she said smiling and admiring it for a moment. She ran her finger down his chest as she spoke.

      "Too bad it's going to be kept all limp and useless, just hanging under a dress," she said in baby talk. "You know Martin, if we had known each other sooner......and of course your father hadn't been so damn rich, you and I might of had some good times together. I always thought you were cute you know, even in school," she said as she stood to leave. "I'm sure you and I would have had sex at least once together, or a blow job." She bent over in front of him and smiled, "Or painted each others toenails, which ever you would have preferred."

      She stood up to leave now.

      "That's it? You're leaving?" he looked at her in disbelief as if he was a bit confused.

      "Yes Martin, that's it. What did you expect honey? I'm glad you enjoyed it. It was a one time only, me jerking you off. I told you that before we started. It was nothing personal." She looked at him like she was a bit confused at his reaction to it all.

      "Nothing personal? What was that all about then? Mental torture?" Martin was furious. "You do that to me and just leave me here like nothing happened?"

      "I'm sorry Martin. I'm happy if it was a very special and intimate moment for you, but it wasn't anything special for me." Missy looked at him and gave a sly smile. "It was just me giving a hand job to my son."

      "Let me go Missy. Right now!" he hissed at her.

      "The girls will be in to finish you up for the ceremony Martin," she sighed. "I'm sorry sweetie. The wedding has to proceed as planned. There is nothing else I can do for you at this time sweetheart," she said lowering her eyes and walking quickly out of the room, her hips swaying seductively in those jeans, as she exaggerated her walk for him. She stopped at the door and looked back at Martin. She smiled and gave him a wink as she dropped the condom with his spent semen and the gloves in the trash can, then she left the room as if she had just finished a chore around the house and was just discarding the dirty items.

      "Slut!" Martin yelled at her as she left the room.