Peter was a fay young naive whose secret penchant for frillies and girly attire had made him a shy and homely boy, which is why his parents had sent him to house sit his aunts flat in Paris while she went south for the summer. The long warm Parisian summer stretched before him and in the first week he hardly ventured out choosing to secreted himself away plundering his aunts extensive feminine wardrobe and indulging his private masturbatory fantasies each day. But before long the romantically decadent lure of Paris wafted through the windows and seeped into his every pour. It seemed to call him with a promise that his secret was safe and that he should come out to play.
Trembling he slipped into the most elegant attire and with tentative steps he hesitantly ventured out on that fateful night not meaning to go any further than the end of the street and then back. But his naivety did not alert him to the dark dangers of Paris's seedy underbelly and the Albanian street gang was out tonight looking to snatch a pretty young thing to indulge there gang rape cruelty.
Peter struggled in vain, his cries were muffled and he was helpless and at the mercy of these brutal men
However as they brutally tore away his delicate feminine layers they revealed Peters petrified and puny little penis there sexual cruelty gave way to anger and then retribution. In there warped minds they wanted recompense and with the aid of a razor were about to make Peter a complete woman when they realizing that they had a completely subservient victim that as a pretty gurl he did not exist and that no one would miss him and that they could do with him as they wished, then compensation became the focus. Which in this case was to sell Peter into the private sex slave industry so rife in mainland Europe.
|Peter could not meet there demands for compensation|
|Peters attire made him feel awkward and subservient to the turn of events|
It had all been completed within hours of his incarceration and within a matter of days he was being paraded in front of a Monsieur David a middle aged gentleman who despite his expensive attire carried a demeanor of cruelty that made Peter tremble as he was inspected as a new pet.
The streets of Paris no longer looked exotic and romantic, it seemed to ooze a cruel malevolent threat and as his attire was disheveled by the sudden updraught from the rumbling Metro below his now medically crippled permanently puny penis was coveted by the streets lowlife and he felt more than exposed, he felt lost, adrift, petrified and violated by the gaze of the sordid street around him. He felt glad to be free of the cruel medical tampering of the lesbian slave traders and reassured by Monsieur David's protective vice like grip around his waist, yet this mans cruel glint and unnerving chuckle as Peter struggled to restrain his flapping dress from taking flight made him begin to realize that the old adage of frying pan and fire is where he probably was right now.
Monsieur David lived a decadent life with his every cruel whim placated by his loyal and equally cruel staff and it was very soon that Peter realized he would be trapped at there mercy and bullying indulgence as much as he would those of the old mans.
There was now never any let up and life was one long torturous round of painful days, whether it was the spiteful parlor games inflicted on him by the maids who mocked his faux femininity to the bullying invasive agonies perpetrated by the gardener and the butler.
Then finally then there was the humiliating indulgences of Monsieur David, the shame, the degradation, the complete loss of dignity and identity that eventually led to Peters complete submission to being toy for abasement, lustful invasion and selfish satisfaction.