As I sit here dressed in my sexy maid's uniform, made up to look like a French whore, bruised and sore from head to toe, with a butt plug up my ass; I ponder how did a former macho, muscular man such as myself get himself in this predicament. There used to be a time when women jumped at my every word and did every and any thing they could to please me, in fear they might get the back of my hand or a good kick in the ass. Now, me, Mr Macho, 200 lbs, well-conditioned athlete, cringes in fear when a woman raises her hand to me, or even just raises her voice in anger, and I suffer every humiliation known to man or animal with nary a word of dissent. Even now, I sit here typing these memoirs as fast as my fingers will allow, in mortal fear that I will not be completed by the deadline imposed upon me by wife. Her last words as she left me this morning, after another long night of abuse with her and her newfound friends from the Sisterhood, was to write my story as a warning to other macho males such as my former self. Although I suspect I was told to write this story to reinforce and relive the transformation that I have undergone, and more likely, to give her one more reason to punish me for a task that probably won't satisfy her.

Before I start my tale of woe and explain how I was broken and transformed into this sorry excuse for a man, I was commanded to relate my experiences of last night to give my readers (whoever they might unfortunately be) a taste of the depths to which I have sunk. As usual, my night started by me serving dinner to my wife, while I ate from a doggie bowl at her feet. I was dressed, as I am now, in the feminine attire to which I have unfortunately become all too familiar. Later I washed the dishes and scrubbed the kitchen floor, washed my wife's undergarments and stockings, and then attended to the personal needs of my wife. I gave her a bath, washed her hair, gave her a pedicure, and got ready for a typical night at her feet, at her beck and call. However, she then commanded me to polish her boots, paddles, and other assorted punishment implements and accoutrements, while she dressed in her black leather dominatrix attire. This was our routine prior to a formal punishment session, so I knew I was in for another beating. Of course punches, slaps, and kicks were almost a daily occurrence, but beatings with her assortment of whips and other special implements were a more ritualized, and painful affair. As I went about my chores and mentally prepared myself for the ordeal, even worse fears were realized when I heard the doorbell ring and I was ordered to crawl to the door to answer it. This could only mean that friends from the Sisterhood had arrived to share in my punishment and humiliation.

For those of you lucky enough to not know the Sisterhood, they are a group of beautiful, athletic, well-conditioned, sadistic women, who have bonded together to subjugate, emasculate, and enslave self-perceived macho men such as myself. They are experts in various martial arts and one-on-one can beat most men senseless without working up a sweat. Since becoming a slave to the Sisterhood, I have witnessed them beating up men outside of our group for the smallest of offenses, just for their sheer amusement. I have yet to see them lose a battle, and more often than not, they rarely suffer any damage from their victims. While the men under their control are typically hapless husbands, some women have stables of helpless males that either live with them or in the outside world, waiting in fear for the call that will summon them for immediate service to their masters. For those foolish enough to be slow in responding, or worse yet ignoring the call or even trying to run away, the punishment is severe. Public humiliation and beatings, and even in some instances castration and permanent sex change operations, await those who disregard the Sisterhood.

As I opened the door, with my head appropriately bowed in servitude and shame, I could only see a jungle of high heels, black stockings, and shapely legs. Per my training, I immediately began kissing the shoes of the women above me, while professing my worthlessness and obedience to all women. Almost immediately, however, my head was painfully pulled upward by my hair and I was forced to look into the eyes of the meanest bitch in the Sisterhood, Mistress Dominique. She only grinned and in a voice that sent shivers up and down my spine said:

"Hey little man, we are going to beat you and rape you till you squeal and cry like the worthless slut you are and then we are going to beat you some more. I just love kicking your ass. I just love those muscles you have, so you keep working out. It's no fun stomping a wimp with no muscles because he is an accident waiting to happen and a body waiting to be pussy whipped. However, you macho studs can remember when you had some swagger and may even retain some hope of beating one of us some day. Till then, which is never going to come, you belong to us and we are going to continue to make you pay for those days as a macho male."

Having set the tone for the evening, she then began slapping my face in a steady staccato beat, first with the palm, then with the back of her hand. This continued for several minutes until my face was a beet red and my head pounded and throbbed in pain. Finally she stopped, pushed my head down, and mounted me like a horse. I was ordered to carry her into the living room on my back, while she prodded me by beating my ass with a crop, digging her heels into my thighs, and slapping my head. I can assure you I needed no prodding, my fear was more than enough to keep me moving as fast as I could. When I finally completed my tortuous journey, she dismounted and sent me sprawling face down with a vicious kick to my ass.

For the rest of that night, Dominique was true to her word, she, my wife, and three other Sisters took turns beating me with whips and paddles and raping me till I thought I would pass out . When they finally tired of me, I was stripped naked and hung like a piece of meat from a hook in our den. From that vantage point I looked on as they conducted a lesbian orgy well into the night. Finally, they let me down, but only to service each and everyone of them with my tongue, until my mouth was so dry and raw that I couldn't satisfy them anymore. They then went to bed while I was draped and bound to a wooden horse for safekeeping, with a huge dildo up my ass. In the morning I was released and given the assignment you are now reading. However, before the women left for a weekend of gambling at the shore, my wife gave me one last memento to remember her by. She sucker- punched me and left me with a black eye that in her words would remind me who was boss till she returned.

Now you are probably asking yourself how could any self respecting man reach this sad state of affairs, especially one like myself who had prided himself on his strength and toughness. I should've seen it coming , but I was blinded by my arrogance and stupdity. For the first few years of my marriage, life was bliss. I drank, hung out with the boys, and treated my wife like dirt. Somewhere, though I don't remember when, my wife joined a new women's only health club. At the time, I didn't give it a second thought, but now in retrospect the muscular women friends my wife began bringing home, and the husbands and boyfriends that I never saw, should've given me a hint something was different. My wife to her credit didn't give her transformation away until she was ready. She continued to suffer my abuse, but if I looked closely I would have seen her body taking shape, becoming more muscular, lean, and athletic. However, I didn't notice until it was too late and she was ready to turn the tables.

My downfall began with a well-choreographed scene that played perfectly upon my brutish instincts and set me up for a precipitous fall from grace. We had invited Dominique and her husband over for dinner one night. It was during that dinner that I saw for the first time the true relationship between Dominique and her thoroughly dominated husband. The night started rather innocuously as her husband waited on Dominique somewhat excessively and servilely. She treated him like dirt and called him names which I would never have accepted, then, but I attributed it to a severe case of henpecking and a true wimp for a husband. However, during dinner, he had the nerve to tell her to wait when she ordered him to get her a drink. This triggered an outburst of the kind I had never seen before. She got up and pushed his face into his plate of food. Then she pulled him up by the scruff of his neck, slapped him viciously across his face, and proceeded to throw him literally across the room. Like a beaten puppy he then crawled back to the table and began kissing her feet while he begged for mercy and muttered words of forgiveness.

At this point I could take no more. I called him a wimp and a poor excuse for a man and told him no woman would ever or could ever do that me. It was obvious that I had taken the bait and the whole scene had been scripted for my benefit, because I can guarantee you that her husband, or any sane man for that matter, would never speak back to Dominique as he had done a few minutes earlier. No sooner had I opened my mouth that Dominique whirled around and said:

"You want to try me wimp? Just you and me in front of your wife where you can show her just what a stud you are. I'm tired of your macho behavior and I think it's time you learned the true meaning of female power. I'm going to make you cry and squeal Auntie and then I''m going to let your wife finish your lesson, if there is any fight left in you by then. One way or the other though you will remember this night forever."

I was now backed into a corner and had no choice but to fight her, but I honestly at that time couldn't conceive of losing to a woman. It was true that Dominique was a magnificent physical specimen, but she was still a woman. At 5'11" tall she was still five inches shorter and at least 60 lbs less than me. Also, I was a pretty good physical specimen myself, still am in matter of fact, though I've learned that just makes me a more desirable whipping boy for the women of the Sisterhood. I said:

"I don't normally fight women, but in your case I'll make an exception. In fact, it will give me great pleasure to kick your bull dyke ass in front of my wife just in case she is ever stupid enough to speak back to me, yet alone raise her hand to me. In fact, after I kick your female butt and watch your silly mascara run from your tears, I am going to let your wimp of husband slap my stupid bitch of a wife around. Maybe that will restore some of his self-respect and it will teach my dumb slut that even a weak excuse for a man can bitch-slap a woman."

At that utterance my wife turned red and said:

"When you get finished kicking his ass Dominque, give him to me and I will make him regret the day he was born a man. He will never, ever speak back to a woman again. Before you take him apart, however, let me show him what true bitch slapping is and at the same time give him a little taste of what's in store for him."

With that she walked over to Dominique's husband, pulled him to his feet, and for my benefit said:

"Let me give you a demonstration of what happens to disrespectful men and what I learned at my health club with the Sisterhood. I am not the same woman anymore, which you'll be finding out shortly. Things will change, as of now, and you will pay dearly for your macho chauvinism."

Having said that, with one hand she grabbed Dominique's husband by the front of his shirt, and with the other hand began slapping him unmercifully. The house echoed with the sound of her hand pounding against his face, accompanied by his sorrowful moans and groans from the punishment he was taking. As I stood there dumbfounded and frozen in place by a side of my wife I had never seen before, the poor man's face slowly but surely puffed out, as it turned red and bruised, and he even began spitting drops of blood as the intensity increased. Finally tiring of the slapping, my wife threw him on top of the dining room table, scattering plates and food every which way. She then started punching him in the kidneys and stomach as he unsuccessfully tried to cover up. Finally she jumped on top of the table, straddled him with her body, and began pummeling his face with solid punches. By now his face was a mass of bruises and was black and blue from the punishment he had received. She eventually pushed herself off of him and stepped back onto the floor. Grabbing him by his shirt collar she then dragged him off the table and he crashed onto the floor. Putting her foot on his chest, she then looked at me and said:

"That is what I called bitch-slapping and I guarantee after Dominque finishes with you, you will not be bitch slapping or bad mouthing anyone. Okay stupid, it's your turn now."

I was needless to say shocked and confused by this demonstration of power and fury. During the entire beating, which lasted only a few minutes, I stood there petrified, not knowing what to do or how to react. I had not even been thinking of my impending encounter with Dominique, but now I was forced to face that reality and I was not so confident anymore; although, it still never occurred to me that a woman could beat me in a fair fight. However, until now I could never believe a woman could beat a man as bad as I just witnessed, and by my own wife. I could only turn slowly to Dominique, open mouthed in astonishment, and watch as she slowly stepped out of her dress to stand like a Greek goddess before me. She was wearing black stockings, garter belt, black silk panties, black bra, high heels, and nothing else. For the first time, of what would be many painful times, I saw her break into that evil grin of hers. Tossing her dress at me, she purred:

"Come and get your beating little man."

As I look back now, I often wonder why my wife just didn't administer my first beating herself. She was certainly more than capable, as demonstrated by many subsequent encounters, and her dismantlement of Dominique's husband. In retrospect, however, my own dismantlement and initial training was perfectly scripted, nothing was left to chance. I had no chance against Dominique and the Sisterhood knew that. Therefore, they suckered me into a fight against her first, to soften me up before I was turned over to my wife. Additionally, by staging my wife's destruction of Dominique's husband before my own battle, they put a chink and some doubt into my aura of confidence. Furthermore, by the time I was sent crawling to my wife I already knew what she could do and I wasn't about to challenge her rule.

However, at that time I knew none of this and still thought I actually had a chance. I will admit I was shaken, but the thought of getting beat by any woman was still unimaginable. So much so, that I threw Dominique's dress to the ground and said:

"That little show won't make any difference. That little wimp is obviously a pussy whipped nerd with no guts or courage. Let me show you bitches what it's like to tangle with a real man. First I'll give this bitch a taste of male power, then I'll give you a taste of my cock up your cunt."

With that I foolishly walked towards Dominique with my defenses down, totally unprepared for what happened next. As I reached for her, she grabbed me around my head, pivoted, and easily flipped me over her hip. Flying over her shoulder, I landed squarely and painfully on my back. Rather than taking advantage of my prone and vulnerable position, Dominique just backed away, casually flipped her shoes off, and beckoned me to get up with her fingers. Although stunned and hurt, I quickly got up and in a rage charged her like a mad bull. There was no way I was going to let this bitch embarrass me like that. However, she casually stepped to the side, gave me her hip again, grabbed me around my head, and this time using my own momentum, threw me twice as far as before. Again as I lay stunned on the floor, she didn't press her advantage, but she just beckoned me with her fingers and said:

"Come and get it Mr Macho. At least give me a challenge, make it interesting for me. I hate when it's too easy, though that's not going to save your hide."

This time I got up slowly, more enraged than before, but I was just beginning to realize that I had to be more careful. This time I advanced her on slowly and in a boxing stance and said:

"Okay bitch you are going to get it now. No mercy for you or my dumb slut of a wife. I'm going to shove my fist down your throat and give you the beating of your life."

That was probably the last time I ever showed her disrespect like that again. Over the next 30 minutes, Dominque kicked my ass in virtually every way possible. Rather than just a simple beating, she beat me severely using martial arts, agility, and strength. It was almost like she wanted me to know that there was no way and no choice of weapons that I could use to stop her. First, she used a series of kicks to the side of my face and body, while I stood almost helplessly, too slow and ponderous to defend myself. Time and again she would knock me down, but she always backed away to let me get up, never pressing her advantage. Next she challenged me to box her because I was obviously too slow to stop her lightning quick feet. At the time, I actually thought that would be to my advantage because boxing is a manly sport, or so I thought. I don't think I ever touched her with a blow. Her hands were as quick as her feet and she took me apart me with her fists, just as easily as she had punished me with her feet. Again, she was satisfied to punish me slowly with rapier like jabs and short quick punches, rather than going for the kill with a knockout punch. I felt like a punching bag as she pounded my face and body with a never ending stream of rights and lefts.

Slowly, but surely my face began puffing up with bruises and my body had black and blue marks all over it. Finally I fell like a sack of potatoes under the accumulated punishment and this time I just laid there. I had enough, I was sore and bruised all over, and I wanted no more, but Dominique and my wife were not finished with me. Dominique put her arms under my shoulders, dragged me over to the sofa, shoved my head between her powerful thighs, and sat down to relax while she held me in a visor like grip. With my head squeezed between her nylon clad legs, and my face pressed against her crotch, she casually lit a cigarette, reclined on the sofa, and said:

"Tonight you lucked out stupid. As I much as I would love to continue kicking your ass and beating your silly face into a pulp, I have to leave something for your wife. I don't want you totally unconscious for the thrashing she plans to give you. Now all I want from you is a sincere apology and admission of defeat before I let you go and turn you over to her and it better be good or else I will crush your head."

Being unexperienced and untrained, at that time, in true humility, I gave a simple "sorry" and "you win". This was obviously not enough and she squeezed my head like a melon between her thighs until I almost passed out. We repeated this sequence of events several times, as I incrementally increased the obsequious tone and content of my humiliating words of defeat, after another round of painful pressure to my head. I finally pleased her by saying all women were superior, men were dirt, and I would do anything that any woman commanded. With these words, she released her grip and I fell to the floor sobbing and crying.

As I lay there in a crumpled heap, I felt her step on me and walk away. However, I just laid there in pain and abject humiliation for a few minutes, not even thinking about my wife, just trying to recover from my beating. I was not even thinking about what I had said and what might follow. While my ego was damaged and I was emotionally crushed, I assumed my ordeal was over. I would just avoid Dominque in the future and that would be it. I forgot about my words to my wife and her promises of a new relationship. I was rudely awakened to the new reality, however, by several hard kicks to my ass. I looked up expecting to see Dominque and instead saw my wife standing there in an imperious pose, hands on hips, legs spread, and a sneer on her face. She was dressed much like Dominique, black stockings, garter belt, panties, and bra WITH a huge dildo strapped to her crotch. She pulled me up against the couch, shoved her leg against my throat to keep me in position, and began slapping me like a rag doll.

"Time for that bitch slapping you promised darling, except you are the bitch dear. It's time to see whether you meant what you said to Dominique and whether you will do everything I tell you, but first a little, no a lot of payback for all those years you treated me like your servant. By the time we finish tonight you will never, ever raise your hand to me or any other woman again. First I am going to beat you like a drum and then I am going to rape you like the bitch you are and please do try to resist so I can really kick your ass."

After my beating by Dominique I had no fight or pride left and I just took her beating and words like the wimp I had become. Although my face was already sore beyond belief by Dominique's beating, the slapping raised the pain to levels I never knew possible. My mouth was awash in blood and my eyes were starting to swell shut. Finally, thank god, my wife stopped and pulled me to my feet. She then kneed me so hard in my groin I thought I was going to die. I crumpled to the floor and laid in a fetal position gasping for breath. Almost by instinct, and without a second thought, I started begging my wife to stop the beating and promised to be her slave. I was broken and stripped of all self respect at that moment. I only wanted the pain to stop. My wife stood above me straddling my body and said:

"You worthless excuse for a man, stop bawling. I've only just started, you haven't seen anything yet. By the time I am finished you will know what real pain is. From now on I am the lord and master in this house and you will do everything and anything I say. You will be my sissy slut and total slave, and you will never talk back to me again. Now get undressed and get over my lap so I can make your ass the same color as your face."

Without a moment's hesitation I stripped as fast as I could and jumped over her lap as she positioned herself on a chair. Locking my cock between her nylon clad legs, she was true to her word. She gave my ass a fierce beating, starting with her barehand, and progressing to a paddle, wooden brush, and razor strap. By the time she was finished my ass was covered with welts and I was sobbing uncontrollably. For the next two weeks, I couldn't sit without tremendous discomfort.

For the remainder of the night, my wife and Dominique completed my initial training and deflowering. I learned how to give head to a dildo and I learned how to take a whole dildo up my ass, and cum while I was being taken. This didn't come without a great deal of punishment and practice. When I was finally allowed to rest, I was literally emasculated and a mere shell of my formal self. This reorientation was reinforced over and over again for the next several days until any thought of rebellion had been totally eradicated. During this period, at least one other member of the Sisterhood participated in all my training. However, my wife always took the lead and was always the most sadistic. Also, the first few days began with a one-on-one fight with my wife to reinforce her physical superiority over me. While I tried to fight back the first few times, these sessions quickly deteriorated into such one sided affairs, that I finally didn't even try to retaliate and just immediately covered up to defend myself. By then we stopped the charade of a fight and focused on my training and attitude adjustment.

My training consisted of how to comport myself as a slave and a woman. My body hair was shaved and I learned how to dress as a woman and apply makeup. I also learned how to walk and act feminine. Although, slaves of the Sisterhood are allowed to appear masculine in public, we must act like women at home, except for those occasions when we undergo such activities as equestrian and doggie training. Additionally, we are considered communal slaves of the Sisterhood, so we must learn basic rules of servitude because we may be loaned to other women at any time. We also must periodically work as waitresses in a social club owned by the Sisterhood and woe to the slave who embarrasses his mistress at the club.

After a week of intense training, I was allowed to return to my job accompanied by my wife. As luck would have it, I used to run a secretarial pool where I was the only man in charge of several women. I handled accounts with several firms where we did overflow work and special projects. Given my previous behavior with women, it is probably obvious that I treated them no better than I did my wife and in fact even forced some women to have sex with me to keep their jobs. Therefore, I dreaded returning to this environment. Given my reorientation I wondered how I would handle being in charge of women again, but I should've known that my wife would never let me return to that arrangement and counteract her work in progress. In fact, I was surprised when my wife ordered me to put my old clothes on and accompany her to work.

As we walked through the common office area several women commented on my bruises and wondered who was tough enough to do that to me. My wife told them we would explain in a private meeting in my office. When everyone was gathered in my office, my wife explained that I had undergone a change in my life and I had realized what a pig I had been. In addition, I was now ready to pay the price for my transgressions and had promised to treat women better. In fact, I wanted to kiss everyone's feet right now and apologize for my behavior. This caught me entirely offguard and I turned red with embarrassment. I hesitated in fear because these were normal women who knew me before the Sisterhood. How would they react to such public humiliation on my part. However, I didn't have much time to deliberate because my wife grabbed me by the ear, pulled me to my knees, slapped me a few times across the top of my head, and in a threatening tone said:

"Get moving wimp. Kiss everybody's feet and beg their forgiveness now or else I will kick your ass right here and now. Better yet, drop your pants and show them your battered butt while you're crawling around. Now move stupid."

To Be Continued With Following Scenes:

* Man becomes office slave as his former employees really get into male domination * Man is embarrassed in front of his friends and neighbors as they learn about his new role in life * Former friend is suckered into a night with the Sisterhood and is converted to a disciple of the group * Anecdotes from some of his experiences at the club run by the Sisterhood (experiences as a waitress, group rape scenes, forced servitude, beatings and rapes of unsuspecting men lured into the club, etc.) * Anecdotes from parties held with the Sisterhood (men compete for best slave, women compete for most dominant) * Anecdotes from additional personal experiences with his wife * Anecdotes from individual encounters with other women of the Sisterhood

What do you think, should I continue ?