Chapter 1 -- The Burglary
It was just after midnight when I heard the window break downstairs. I hadn't yet drifted off to sleep, but there were no lights on anywhere in the house. After a busy few days at work, I had decided to have a relatively early night, after making sure that the gimp was fully secured in her cage in the basement. Maybe they thought the place was empty? I inherited this place from my uncle, who was a very successful businessman, and died prematurely at the age of 55 around ten years ago. It's a nice, large country house that is hidden away in the English countryside. Rolling fields and woodland for miles around. For someone who appreciates solitude -- or at least not being disturbed by prying eyes -- it's perfect.
I was surprised that they had made it all the way up to the building. They must have jumped over the fence at the bottom of the garden. I got up out of bed, threw some clothes on quickly and quietly, and made my way down the hallway to check the security camera screens in the study. But no, I was mistaken; the large iron gate at the end of the driveway was open and the front face of the number pad was hanging down by its wires. They must have broken it and caused a short circuit. In my mind, the stakes had suddenly been raised.
I knew I didn't have a lot of time. It was apparent from the noises coming from downstairs that 'they' were inside the house now. No doubt there was shattered glass everywhere in the kitchen that the gimp would have to clean up later. I couldn't hear how many there were, but I could hear at least two different male voices and one female voice. They weren't even whispering, which didn't strike me as particularly professional. I became quite sure that this was more a crime of opportunity than anything. Many of these manor houses are stuffed full of valuables from years gone by, and their isolation makes them attractive targets for break-ins. Even more so if they look unoccupied. But this house wasn't unoccupied, and its owner -- me -- was pissed off that about the potentially dangerous situation that would have to be dealt with immediately. If any of these intruders went snooping in places they shouldn't and managed to inform the wrong people 'on the outside', my business and lifestyle choices may suffer.
I didn't own a gun, which in hindsight is probably a mistake. Everyone should be able to protect their property, if push comes to shove. But I did have a handheld taser in the basement, alongside a wide range of BDSM equipment and restraints that may be very useful in this situation. The ropes and handcuffs would be invaluable if I could manage to subdue some of the burglars, but being outnumbered was a bigger problem. I'd need to get down there to grab this equipment anyway, so why not release the gimp? She may be useful, and if something happens, she could easily be replaced. David and I have refined our training regimen over many years into a well-oiled machine, such that a fresh sissy delivered from auction -- or simply picked up off the street -- can be fully broken, feminized, and sold within a matter of months. It's hard work, but very enjoyable, and often leads to a nice profit.
It seems that I had taken too long mentally planning what to do, when instead I should have just done it. I heard a creak on the bottom step of the main staircase, which snapped me back to the present. Someone was coming up to the first floor. I hurriedly crept out of the study, jogged quietly further down the hall, and quickly descended the spiral staircase in the east wing that led to the basement. Luckily, bare feet on carpet make virtually no sound. In less than a minute, I had entered the unlit basement through the back door, which I unlocked with my thumb print. I flicked on the light, which revealed a vast array of bondage equipment hanging from each wall and eight iron cages in multiple rows close to the centre of the room, one of which was occupied. Behind the cages was a rack, a dentist's chair, and a modified gym horse with custom-made leather straps in various places. Each of these 'tools' sees fairly regular use, and perhaps may see much more in the future, depending on how tonight's events were to play out.
I headed over to the workbench and opened up the small electronic safe that was firmly bolted to it. I grabbed the ring of keys for cage number 3, closed the safe, and ran over to the gimp. It didn't seem that she had even woken up. She was completely oblivious to the light level in the room, due to the thick leather hood that encased her head. She probably hadn't even heard me either -- the hood had padded ear covers and thick, hardened leather eye patches that could be independently removed via small zips. If needed, she could be blinded but still hear what's going on during her training, or vice versa. Or else, have neither sensation. The mouth hole also offered many options. Right now, she had a classic red ball that was keeping her jaw open and tongue pressed down.
It wasn't too big as to be painful when used for long periods -- after all, there is no use in damaging the sissy before she can be sold off -- but it is a nice reminder that she always needs something in her mouth. I unlocked the door to the cage and swung it open. I moved to the side and leant over through the top bars to uncuff her hands and feet from each other, and then release the chain that connected the neck of the gimp suit to the base of the cage. I gave her a kick in the shoulder to get her attention, which got her moving. She crawled out of the cage, fumbling about, and then knelt down, as she had been taught. I then quickly unzipped her eye and ear holes and threw the patches back inside the cage.
"Listen, sissy, there isn't a lot of time to explain. We have unwanted visitors in the house and I need your help." I whispered. I could see the outline of her chastity cage trying to poke upwards through her crotch. I needed to change it for a smaller size. Her hormone regimen had been working wonders for the past six weeks and her little girl cock had shrunk considerably in that time, but it still needed work. "I'm letting you have a bit of freedom so we can round these idiots up. I assume I don't need to remind you what will happen if you try anything stupid?" I asked. I only heard a muffled grunt in reply and a weak-willed little nod of the head. I could see the fear in her eyes, too. Her training has been paying off.
"Come on, let's move!" I spat, before darting over to a drawer in the workbench and grabbing a handful of zip ties and my taser, and shoving everything into my pocket.
We headed out of the basement back entrance again, as I didn't feel comfortable using the small elevator. This had been installed a decade or so ago when the basement was remodelled completely and allowed transport of the larger bits of equipment up and down without having to disassemble them all. However, like all elevators, it made noises when being called and once it reached its destination, and I didn't want to risk revealing our position too early. The gimp followed me up the stairs very closely. While I was of medium build, she was very petite. She was just over 75 kg when she arrived, but David and I managed to get her down to nearly 50 kg due to a strict new diet and an aggressive concoction of oestrogen and other hormones.
Our business revolved around feminizing and training male sissies -- whether willing or unwilling -- and making them into obedient sex slaves for high-paying clients worldwide. There is a very big buyers' market for femboys in the Middle East and we have occasionally had clients ask for bulk orders of ten or more sissy slaves. While I started this business alone, I recruited David four years ago as my work partner to cope with this higher demand, and to utilize his expertise as a professional photographer and video editor. He has been invaluable for marketing and has dramatically increased profits since coming on board with his excellent promotional materials. Helpfully, he also has a penchant for submissive sissies and femboys, like me, and often helps with the more practical aspects of the training.
We both reached the door leading to the hallway on the first floor, which I had initially made my escape through just a short while earlier. I had no idea where the intruders were, which concerned me. "Wait here and be quiet," I told her. I pressed my ear to the door, trying to listen for anything. After about one minute, I heard a set of footsteps approaching. Doors were being opened systematically with increasing proximity. It seemed like 'they' were checking inside each room to see what was there. If there was nothing worth looking at or stealing, they just moved on to the next. They would be at this door momentarily. "Go over there into the corner," I whispered to the gimp, who quickly obeyed. She would be directly behind the door when it opened and couldn't be seen at all. I re-positioned myself so that I was pressed up against the wall adjacent to the door, but on the other side of it, and hopefully also concealed. I prayed that this person -- a man, based on what I could hear of his mutterings -- wouldn't see me as soon as he came through.
The door was pushed open, slowly. It was clear that he was being cautious, on the off chance that there was a hazard waiting for him. Of course, there was, but he didn't know it. A flashlight beam moved across the floor and hit the stairs ahead of him, and his forearm started to poke through the doorway. The gimp and I stayed silent. "Just a staircase" he sighed to himself, before lowering the flashlight and taking a step forwards to illuminate may have been down there. I took my chance while I could -- I grabbed his hand and pulled him forwards as violently as I could, sending him down the stairs. He was around my build, so it wasn't a Herculean task, and I was helped by his complete surprise at the situation. He fell down the steps head first and landed with an unsavoury crunch at the turn, when he flopped down limply, unconscious. My adrenaline was pumping, but I was glad that it had been so simple. "Restrain him," I said, as I threw four zip ties at the gimp. She quickly skipped down the stairs and pulled the intruder's hands together behind his back, binding them. Once his ankles were also tied together, the gimp ran back up to me and I patted her on the head. "One down," I chuckled.
We both went into the hall and crept back into the study to take advantage of the security cameras, which presumably the burglars hadn't noticed. I switched between feeds that covered the exterior and interior of the house. I quickly spotted a white van parked up outside on the gravel driveway, and there was someone still sitting inside in the driver's seat. I would have to remember that. After searching for a bit longer, I spotted both of the other intruders in the living room downstairs. They seemed to be ransacking the place together. I guess the guy we just took care of was a third wheel. I quickly formulated a plan and handed the taser to the gimp. This was a minor risk, as she had only recently been 'broken', and there is often a transitional period between successfully completing the training program and actually becoming truly subservient, especially when conscious of what awaits them after they graduate.
Before David arrived on the scene, I have been caught off-guard by sissies that I trained, determined were ready for sale, but who subsequently made half-hearted attempts to escape once they saw an opportunity. We have since addressed this problem by permanently locking electronic leather chokers onto the sissy's necks, which have automatic obedience mechanisms. Unless disabled, if a sissy leaves the confines of the building, they are rewarded by a strong electric shock that is enough to incapacitate them. So, even if the gimp tried to use the taser on me, she wouldn't be able to escape.
I explained my plan to the gimp and we headed downstairs, this time using the front staircase. Luckily, actually living in the house, I knew where to step to avoid making unnecessary noise. As far as I could tell, we had both made it down safely and were still unnoticed. We both tiptoed down the ground floor hallway towards the living room. I could see flashlight beams moving about rapidly, so I was happy that they were still busy looking for loot. I reminded the gimp to wait a short distance outside the door and stay alert, and then I quickly glanced into the room. The pair was now occupied by poking around behind my flatscreen TV and media centre, presumably looking for a way to detach it and carry it out to their van. I trusted that my plan would work and darted into the room, heading towards the girl, who was marginally closer to me. She was petite and I grabbed her from behind easily, wrapping my arm around her neck and pulling her back. She dropped the flashlight quickly and let out a yelp, which caused her partner to turn around suddenly and take up an aggressive stance.
"Who are you? Let her go!" he shouted.
"This is my house, what the fuck are you doing here?" I shouted back, while the girl in front of me was struggling and hitting me with her free hand.
"We just wanted to see what we could take off your hands, rich boy" the male replied, almost with a smirk. He probably suspected that I was outnumbered and that this setback was only temporary. I noticed that he was also quite small and wiry; nothing like the guy we apprehended earlier on the first floor, and in fact had similar bodily and facial features to the femboy-type that we often acquire during business. The possibilities were already getting me excited. I decided to nickname him Dani.
I deliberately manoeuvred myself, dragging the girl, so that I could see the living room door and position it directly behind this guy. He followed suit, trying to keep me in front of him at all times, and leaving his back exposed. Suddenly, I saw the gimp poke her head around the doorway and start moving into the room as quietly as she could manage. The girl who I was restraining was facing in the same direction, and saw this too. She attempted to shout out, but I quickly released her wrist and moved my hand onto her mouth, keeping my good arm tightly around her neck. She continued to struggle and hit me, but I was desperate to finish this. As the gimp was advancing, Dani reached into his waistband and pulled out a gun. This was, no doubt, the source of his cockiness from earlier, and caused my eyes to widen. Guns are rare in England, so I was hoping that this was a replica, and just for show. But the situation had the potential to rapidly spiral out of control. The girl I was struggling to hold was becoming manic, as she could see what was coming.
"Let her go", Dani sneered as he raised the pistol and pointed it at me, only a matter of seconds before he screamed out in pain as the taser was shoved into the crook of his back by the gimp. I heard a distinct click as Dani's finger squeezed onto the trigger, driven by the electric shock than ran through his veins, but no bullet fired. The gun was empty, thankfully, and he was now lying on the floor, twitching.
The girl in my arms started sobbing and went limp, dropping out of my arms onto the carpet and landing on her knees. Realizing that this was still far from over, I shoved her forwards until she fell onto the ground, grabbed more zip ties from my pocket and quickly bound her hands and ankles. I threw four more at the gimp and told him to do the same to Dani. Within a minute, everything was under control, and I finally breathed a sigh of relief.
There was one more task left to complete, however: the man in the van. I rolled the girl over onto her back and brushed the hair away from her face, which was soaked with tears.
"What is your name?" I asked.
"Sophie", she replied, still sobbing.
"And why did you come here tonight?" I replied.
"We just wanted to see what you had, I'm so sorry. We just need money. We thought you had stuff we could sell. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. Please just let us go. Please, can you just let us go? We won't come back, I promise" she continued to plead.
"I'll let you all go," I lied, "but first I need to make sure I'm safe. This is my house after all. I need to make sure I get all of my stuff back. Is there anyone else here with you?" I asked.
"No, it's just me and Charlie, over there" she lied. I was incredibly disappointed. After all of this, she still wasn't co-operating.
"What about your friend in the van outside?" I asked.
"Oh yeah, he is out there. He is just the driver. But it's just us three, I swear. Can you please let us go?" she lied, again.
"You're not lying to me, are you?" I said. "It's just you three here?"
"Yes, I swear to God, it's just us three, please just let us go" she begged.
"Quiet" I said, disappointed again that she had not revealed their fourth conspirator who was currently tied up in the east wing staircase in the dark. "I'm going to need to talk to your friend in the van. Can you call him inside? I'll get your phone."
I moved my hands down to her trouser pockets and fished around for her mobile phone, bringing it to her face. "What's the code to unlock it? What's his number?" She reluctantly gave me what I needed and I made a mental note to have a good look around the contents of the phone at some later time. I raised the phone to her face. "Tell him you need him in here, but don't tell him what happened. If you do, I'll kill your boyfriend," I threatened. Her eyes went wide and she started to sob again, at which point I slapped her and told her to compose herself. "Wait here one second," I said, "your boyfriend is coming around."
Charlie -- or Dani, as I decided would be his name going forwards -- started stirring, I tore off his shirt sleeve to make a temporary gag, and applied it. "We'll find something more better for you later" I murmured to myself, laughing. I picked him up, slung him over my shoulder, and carried him to the couch. I dumped him down unceremoniously and told the gimp to sit down next to him. "if he tries anything, zap him again" I said.
I walked back to Sophie who was still lying on her back and picked her up. I carried her to the armchair and posed her too, and put the phone up to her mouth and ear. I reminded her to make it sound good, or else. She nodded and I dialled Tony, the getaway driver.
"Tony, can you come in here quickly, we need you!" she said, quite convincingly and with no evidence of duress. She was a natural, I thought.
"What? Why? Has something happened? Where are you?" he replied.
"We are in the front room, just come in through the kitchen, turn right, and go down the hall. You won't miss us" she stated.
"Erm, ok. Give me a minute" he said. "Is there someone there?" I gave Sophie a stern look, which she understood. "No, it's just us. The house was empty. Come quickly!" she pleaded.
"OK, on my way" Tony said, hanging up.
"Great work," I said to Sophie, as I walked over to Dani and tore off more of his shirt, exposing his bare chest. I walked back to Sophie and gagged her, and then walked over to the floor to pick up Dani's gun that was dropped during the scuffle earlier. Sophie's eyes went wide again as I walked back to stand beside her.
"Don't worry, hunny, it's empty, remember?" I soothed her. "But maybe your friend doesn't know that." I stood behind her and pressed the barrel firmly against her temple. She started crying, again.
Within a minute, Tony came stumbling into the room and froze when he saw the scene in front of him. I told him to come on in and kneel down in the centre of the room.
"What's going on?" Tony asked, fixated at the gun pointed at Sophie's head.
"Shut up, I'll ask the questions" I replied. "How many of you are there?"r"