He had a lot of control over me. I was still officially a prisoner. I could visit my clients, but had almost no freedom. The sub-dermal tracking device they implanted in the back of my neck meant they could track me anywhere. All the gurls had them. This was to prevent kidnapping. They were buried deep and needed surgery to remove.

Dave nearly controlled my entire existence. He decided what I could watch on TV, my client list, my finances, and my tier rating. Even what clothes I could wear was his decision. I once tried to order some plain nylon knickers. What was delivered were all lace and frills. He could add months onto my sentence if he thought I was not "performing" well. Voluntary comfort gurls had a lot more control. If they dressed unattractively, they made less money. I was a cash cow. Except I was the one who had to do the milking.

Today, he had me in a black wig, 6-inch heels, a black pencil skirt, a white satin blouse, a lacy black bra, and knickers. When I looked in the mirror before he arrived, I realized I looked like Yvette, the sexy waitress from the sitcom, Allo, Allo.

Old vintage TV was all the rage now. Without women, anything new would mainly star men. There were a few transgender actresses, but talented ones were rare. Only sports and news were on live now. All men of course.

When I refused to run to him, kiss him, and call him Renee in a sexy voice, he reminded me of his power over me.

"If you don't do as I say, you little bitch. I'll move you to tier 4. You will live on the ground floor in those basic, grotty apartments. You will end up like Beryl. Have you seen her?"

I had. She was a fat, masculine tier 4 gurl. No one would ever mistake her for a woman. I nodded.

"She gets a least 6 jobs a day. Mostly blow jobs. Probably, dirty, smelly men. She gets £100 a time. I don't think anyone actually fucks her. Who would want to? "

"Why does she do it?"

"Why? She gets £300 a day. She can earn £80k a year. Tax-free. You will get a small nest egg when you, sorry IF you ever finish your sentence."

That was a veiled threat.

"How would she earn that sort of money otherwise? When she finishes her 5 years, she will probably never have to work again. She may even pay for a full gender reassignment."

"Why, I thought it was free?"

"Ha! Not for people like her. Who would pay to marry that? Anyway, even though you only get 5%, you will still have a pretty sum after 5 years. Although it could be longer if I decide you are not pleasing your clients. If I decide you are irredeemable, they may even still execute you. The government is keeping a close eye on you."

"The government? Why me? What's so special about me?"

"You are an experiment. If you work out, the courts will start giving out more death sentences and offer the comfort gurl option. So be a good little lady and do as you are told. If not, you will see how much you like going down on 6 smelly men every day."

I had it easy. I lived in a nice apartment and had a maximum of 2 clients a day. I suppose things could be worse. I didn't quite believe the smelly men part, though.
Clients pay a deposit before they use the service. Even to use tier 4's, the deposit was £5k.

For a tier 2 like me, they had to fork out £20k. Any damage to a gurl could result in the loss of the deposit and being kicked off the scheme forever.

A few months back, one guy wanted a naughty schoolgirl scene. I was in a uniform with a short skirt and white blouse. The guy had his living room set up like a classroom. Even a chalkboard and a desk. He had me doing maths and spelling until I made a mistake. Then he hauled me out of my seat and pushed me over his knee. When my knickers came down, he laid into me with a wooden rule.

I was expecting light taps, but he went crazy and hit me so hard he drew blood. As I ran out the door, he screamed that he would report me. I told Dave when I got back. He arranged for the doctor to treat me, and the guy lost all his money. I couldn't work for two days..

Dave gave me a sly smile.

"I'll tell you what. It's the cup final on Saturday. I'll take the restrictions off your TV for a day. You can reminisce, remember when you were a man. So what's it to be YVETTE?"

I launched myself at him. I covered his face with kisses and wrapped my right leg around him. He leered down at my stocking top, which was showing as my split skirt rode up. He stuck his tongue in my mouth. I hated that.

"RENEEEEEEeeeee, my love. I vant you, ma darlin unk of a man"

Trying to do my best comedy French accent.

It worked. I felt the lump in his pants grow harder.

"Is zat a gun in your pocket, or are you jhust pleased to zee me?"

"Good girl. keep it up Yvette. I always wanted to fuck you. Now on your knees."

He dropped his trousers and underwear

As always, it brought back memories. Four weeks after my surgery, he was my first non-medical visitor. I had just moved into this, admittedly, wonderful flat. He explained how everything worked.

He told me that because I had turned out so well, I was designated as a tier 2. That is one step down from an actual trans woman. I would bring in thousands of pounds per day. I asked why they had performed facial surgery when I had only agreed to the breast implants, vocal, and genital work.

He showed me the small print. "and any other reversible procedures deemed necessary". It would have made no difference, as I didn't want to die. They had shaved my brow, made my nose and chin smaller. I looked very feminine now.

He had made me blow him. I was nearly sick. The thought of having a man's dick in my mouth back then was horrible. To be fair, he was gentle with me. He explained that women used to do it to men all the time. Just think of myself as a woman. It helped, but not much. When he left, he gave me a box with a set of dildos and some lube.

The five dildos started small and went up to an 8-inch monster. He told me that I needed to be able to accommodate the largest one by the end of next week. He came to see me every day for my "oral exam", as he called it.

I was hoping today he would be in a hurry, but it seems he was not. He lifted his cock up a shoved his balls in my face.

"Lick my balls, go on."

This was not something I enjoyed doing. I stuck my tongue out and gently licked each one with the tip of my tongue. He started to slap my forehead with his dick. This was so humiliating. I think he really got off humiliating me.

"Oh, that's good. You dirty girl. You like that, don't you? My balls are all sweaty and vinegary aren't they? I went for a run this morning and didn't shower. I did it all for you. Just so you get the full flavor."

The fucking prick just loved to push my buttons. He knew I couldn't react. I so wanted to punch him. With the hormones I was taking, he could overpower me easily. I knew I had become more passive lately, too. I just had to take it.

He pushed me back, and started to slap my face with his dick.

"Look up at me. Let me see those lovely eyes."

I glared at him as he pushed his cock against my lips.

"Ha,ha, You fucking hate this don't you? You are forced to act and live like a woman, and you hate it. I'm going to make sure you live like a woman forever. I'll find a way of making you apply for full gender reassignment. I will get a cut of the money when you are auctioned off."

Between his assault on my mouth, I mumbled "No, no I won't"

"Do you think you'll ever be able to think of yourself as a man after years of this? I pick you clients, and I have some very interesting ones coming up. Just you wait. Now on the table, Yvette."

I climbed on all fours. I assumed he wanted to fuck me.

"No, on your back, head hanging over."

He unbuttoned my blouse and released the front clasp of my bra. The cool air made my nipples tingle and harden. He started to tweak them.

"So nice. Not as big as real women's, but getting there. Even if you took out your implants, you'll be stuck with these. Why would you want to be rid of them anyway?"

He leaned in and gently suckled my right nipple as his palm caressed my left.

"Owww, mmmm yes."

I couldn't help myself. It felt so good. My nipples were never this sensitive before.

"See. You are becoming a woman. No man would act like that. Face it, your life as a man is done."

I opened my mouth to reply, but he shoved his cock down my throat. My head was hanging over the table, and he was fucking my face. I started to gag, but then got control. I had trained myself not to gag over the last few months. It was hard to do , but I was almost proud of that ability. I wanted him done and gone. I sucked a little and used my tongue to tickle him as best as I could.

"Oh that's nice bitch. Keep doing that."

I endured as his balls slapped into my face as he mechanically pumped into me. I felt totally used. A man was using my face as a vagina. I was just an object of pleasure to him. He knew his balls slapping my face would humiliate me even more than usual.

"Yesss..." he cried as he exploded straight down my throat.

As he pulled back, I spun around, coughing up spit and cum. My face was a mess. He loved it. He was grinning like the cat who got the cream.

"You look like a right slut. Go and clean up."

He dressed as I slumped on the sofa with some tissues.

"See you next week dear. Think on what I said."

I put my head in my hands and cried. What would happen to me?

Note. To those that do not know what Yvette looked like Google Yvette Allo Allo

Any suggestions on what her next client wants would be appreciated.