The Circle

"Guilty." The word was still ringing through my ears when I returned to court two weeks later for sentencing. I was shaking like leaf in a windstorm. The judge was a notorious crank, hunched over his papers like a big dog trying to take a crap and looking over his glasses at me like old eagle about to take another fish with me playing "fish."

"Sexual harassment, eh?" he began, and I had been instructed not to plead or deny it. I had been found guilty and that was it.

"Yes, your honor."

"I'm tired of fining you people and putting you in jail for six months!" I almost urinated right there.

"I'm going to give you a choice."

"Yes, Sir."

"$1,000 and six months in the county jail or this new treatment program, for which you pay."

"How much?"

"$500."

"I'll take it."

"I'll warn you, this won't be easy."

"OK."

With that he signed some papers, handed them to the bailiff who directed me to desk on the side. I signed the forms and was handed an appointment slip for the Knaps, Institute.

"Take these forms to room nine down that hall and fill them out." ordered the cute receptionist, pushing the button that released the locked door with a loud "click."

The forms asked for medical, insurance and financial information, even my clothing sizes!  It went on for pages and I was irritated by the time I finished.

I waited in anxious anticipation noticing odd details in the room: The floor molding, the pattern in the rug and noises of people moving down the hall. The door opened and nearly jumped from the chair.

"Sir?" said a tall man in a dark suit. He entered the room. "I'm Dr. Levin, in charge of your case, and here to tell you what we're going to do.

"OK." I gulped.

"You were found guilty of sexual harassment." he began and I nodded. "The first stage of your treatment is empathy training. We're going to teach you what it feels like to be a woman."

"And then?"

"Then we are going to use Pavlovian conditioning to change your conduct with CPT."

"CPT?"

"Let's just leave it at that for the moment." Then he turned back to the door and directed his attention out to the hall.

"Nurse?" he called, "Right in here." A cart loaded with boxes rolled into view and into the room.

"Nurse Smith will assist you." he announced and left the room.

"Take off all your clothes and get into this gown." she said handing me a red hospital-style gown.

"Gee, I've never seen one in red."

"It identifies you as an offender."

I fumbled undressing as she busied herself with the boxes, but soon had my clothes on the waiting hangers and went into the gown.

"Just leave it loose." she ordered.

"What are we going to do?"

"First we need to shave your legs."

"For what?"

"We're going to make you into a girl."

"What?"

"Empathy training."

"Oh dear God." I felt as if someone had kicked me in the stomach. The last thing I wanted to do become a girl!

"Sit there." she said and took an electric razor in hand. In a few minutes she shaved all the hair from my legs.

"Now stand up, turn around and take off the gown."

"I don't want to..."

"You'll do it or go to jail right now." she said with chilling crispness. I turned around and removed the gown.

Behind me I heard a box open and she pulled a corset around me, quickly fitting it around my waist!

"What?"

"Stand still and stretch up." she ordered and the garment gripped me like a vise.

"Not so tight." but she said nothing and I could feel my waist shrinking in response to her actions. Then she paused and planted two stick-on foam rubber breasts on my chest and cinched the corset tighter.

"Now put these on." she said, handing me two stockings.

"No."

"Jail?"

"Yes." and I set to rolling the nylons on my legs. Then she helped me attach them.

"They feel funny!"

"Tell me."

"How do you do this?"

"It's expected. Now sit down."

I watched her as she opened a shoe box and nearly fainted when she pulled out a pair of high-heeled pumps with four straps.

"Aren't they beautiful?"

"Oh God."

"Empathy training." she smiled as she slipped a shoe on my right foot, closing the straps and fixing the top one with a tiny lock. The top strap also had a tiny bell like that used for a cat collar.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing to the lock.

"You won't be getting out of these shoes for a while." and she pushed my foot into the left pump, closed the straps and the lock. Again, the top strap had another cat bell.

I was trembling in every direction. Me in women's shoes! And, these? It was a nightmare.

"Stand up." she ordered.

"Oh my God!" I yelled feeling the shoes. It was incredible! The pressure on my toes! The wobbling in my ankles! I felt I was about to fall!

"How do you do it?"

"We do it, and so will you!" she yelled back. "Now walk." and I took a few steps.

Standing in "heels" was hard, walking in them was nearly impossible.

"You're going to have a very hard time here..." she warned. "Now turn around." and without question I did as told.

She set to work on the corset and tightened it yet another notch and I felt faint. Then she sat me in front of the mirror, painted my face with greasy makeup, put a wig on my head and paused to examine her work.

"Not bad." she announced. "You'd almost pass." The thought of being seen in public terrified me.

"No."

"Don't worry, that's not part of it. Come with me." and she beckoned me out to the hall.

My bells were ringing with every step and I was jiggling in all directions with vision jerking with every jarring jolt on my toes. I thought I was going to get seasick from walking in high heels.

"Oh God, this is awful. How do you do it?"

"Now you'll have some appreciation of what women go through to please men, and then you violate us." she hissed.

The profound difference between the sexes struck me like a sledgehammer. The corset was gripping me like a giant hand squeezing, the nylons sliding on my knees and ankles were tickling me while my toes were in vice-like pressure and beaten with every step.  It was horrible.

We came to a door which she opened slowly and inside I saw nine other cross-dressed males walking around a large circle painted on the concrete floor with a giant of a woman in fishnet stockings and tall patent leather pumps, holding an ominous paddle as she barked instructions. This was "The Circle."

"Welcome number ten!" she announced in a goblet shattering voice sounding for all the world like the voice from Hell.

"Take your place in the line and walk." My nurse urged me into line and left.

I have never felt so alone in a room full of people as I did in that scene. Walking, walking, walking with toes hurting every step. I was in utter disbelief that women did this every day.

"Number ten!" she barked. "I don't like the way you walk! One foot in front of the other. Don't give me that duck walk here. Come to the center of the ring. Now!"

I left the line and approached her, carefully placing one pump in front of the other.

"Assume the position and grab your ankles." she ordered and I thought I would pee, but bent over.

Up went my dress and for a moment my bare ass felt cold, but I was more occupied with my stockings and shoes. It was all so strange and then...

"SPLAT!"

I was shocked at the power in the swat, but didn't feel anything for a moment. Then, my butt felt like it had burst into flames and I let go of my ankles. "Keep your grip!" she barked.

"SPLAT!"

The paddle hit again and tears gushed from my eyes as I wailed in stinging pain. Now I was looking at her shoes and remembering how I had gained respect for anything in high heels, having seen them from this angle several times in elementary school.

"SPLAT!"

"AAOOOO!" I bawled and she stepped back. "Now get back in line and do it right." she ordered and I stood, turned and took my place.

What had only been a painful lesson in walking right turned into a living nightmare as one after another of us was taken out of line, given three swats and returned in tears. I would wince every time I heard that awful board hit a bare butt. My empathy was incredible.

One man dared to ask how long this would continue and after he paid with three more swats. The walking continued for a long time until a door on the opposite side of the room opened an in it stood another very tall black haired woman in a purple form fitting jump suit with matching pumps yelled.

"Number one! Come to me!" and the man started to bawl.

"No! No! Please..." but walked to her as if he were a robot. Apparently he knew what was coming. He went through the door, she smiled at him and closed the door from the other side. There was silence for a few minutes and then the sounds of a severe spanking came through the wall as if it were made of paper.

"WHAP!" EEYAOOO!

"SPLAT!" AAOOOO!

"WHAP!" OHHHH.....

"WHAP!" "WHAP!" "WHAP!"

The pace quickened and only muffled sounds of choking, gasping and gagging could be heard. It went on interminably and we were all trembling, but walking under the intense gaze of our guard who was saying nothing. Then, there was silence, muffled sounds of activity in the other room. A door closed somewhere and that door opened again!

"Number two!" The woman in purple yelled, "Come here!" and the man fainted. Our guard and the women in purple went to him and put an opened bottle of ammonia crystals under his nose. Soon he was getting up and in a moment the door closed and the sounds spanking were heard again.

My mind was racing with wonder and fear, but I decided it would be worth it to get out of these shoes. They were killing me and there was no end to the walking.

"Number three!" and the next man disappeared only to be heard from through the wall as he bawled and wailed while the paddle pounded his butt.

Each spanking was taking about two minutes so I only had 14 to go and could predict that by 11:00 AM it would be over.

"Number four!" and he started crying and begging, but went through the door with his head down.

"I can't take it any more!" yelled the man in front of me. "Take me next!" he ordered, but our guard only yanked him out of line, gave him three quick swats and put him back in place.

"Number five!" I had ten minutes to go! I was almost glad. Nothing could be worse than what I was getting for having fondled that secretary. What a price I was paying for that in our "politically correct" socialized world where everything was being run by women.

The next four went quickly and then I was in the room alone, listening to the man who wanted to go get his wish, but he didn't seem to be enjoying it. What would it be like? I could not imagine. Something worse than this? I shook with fear.

"Number ten!" I was relieved. I was actually relieved because the end, however painful, was at hand.

She smiled as I went through the door.

"Would it help if I said I will never harass another woman again as long as I live?" I said calmly.

"Certainly," she said, "it will help you understand why we have to do this." and she directed me to a small, but very substantial saw horse with Velcro(tm) ankle and wrist straps. Without a word of instruction I went to the device and place my ankles by the front legs. She fitted the straps tightly.

"Now bend over and grab the front legs." I did so without complain and she strapped my wrists.

"I recommend you take as many deep breaths as you can before we begin." I started inhaling deeply and after a dozen was getting dizzy.

As this was going on she place a large bucket between my legs and with a small one in hand she said, "Do you have to pee?"

"Yes."

She rolled my dress over my butt, putting it over the padded top rail of the saw horse. Took my penis as if she were milking a cow and said, "There, go ahead." but nothing would come.

"I can't."

"Wait."

She grabbed the paddle, which was made of laminated Masonite pegboard and I felt faint, thinking to myself, "This is it!"

"WHAP!"

Any swat I have ever felt was nothing compared to this! The sensation was instantaneous. I could feel every hole in that board and she put it down, returning with the bucket. She took my penis in hand and I urinated like a horse. When it stopped she put the bucket down in front of me, went to the table and put on a large rubber glove coated with Vaseline and approached.

"You'll like this." she said as she grabbed my penis and began massaging it.

"Why are you doing this."

"It makes the treatment more effective." and she continued.

It was warm and wonderful. I didn't resist and in a minute her skill worked and I ejaculated.

"Oh..." I groaned and immediately became very aware of my shoes and stockings. I wanted out of them immediately!

"Oh God!" I yelled, "I've got to get out of this!"

"Funny how they all say that." she said aloud and returned to the table to remove the glove get a thing that looked like plastic pickle on a string.

"You're not going to like this." she said as she rammed the "pickle" up my rectum. It was cold and felt awful, I bore down on it in response to the chill.

"Why?"

"We don't want you crapping all over the place and it gives you a tighter butt.

"I won't...." I didn't even get to finish the sentence as she had returned with the paddle and:

"SPLAT!"

"Oh God!" I yelled. The stinging was intense, but I still couldn't get away from the feeling of being trapped in red high heels and stockings. They were awful.

"Now tell me what you did."

"I fondled a girl in the office."

"WHAP!"

I jerked and butt was on fire. I've never felt such stinging. I sobbed and gasped, then she asked another ques- tion.

"What did you say to her?"

"If you have sex with me, I'll get you a raise."

"WHAP!"

This went on for a dozen swats as she literally paddled me through the incident, step-by-step. Finally, she was finished and I was slumped over the horse. I heard her put the paddle on the table. She donned an apron and rubber gloves, carrying a small white towel in her left hand.

I was still sobbing, choking and gasping when she grabbed the cord and pulled out the "pickle." I farted and shit in the bucket like I had diarrhea.

"Good." she said and wiped my butt.

"Please?" I begged.

"Yes." and she released my ankles, then came around to my wrists.

"I managed to stand and was worse on heels than ever.

"Oh God," I said, "I have to get out of these shoes. Why do they feel so bad now?"

"Sex."

"You mean that..."

"When you lose semen everything hurts more. That's why we do it."

"Please, I've just got to get out of this."

"Walk down the hall and you'll find the shoe lock key with your clothes. You can change and you can leave."

The walk down the long hall seemed a mile long. I felt like a prisoner in all that gear: hot hair, greasy hot face, ear lobes throbbing in pain from pinching ear rings, fake tits and corset squeezing the breath out of me, hot nylons and the high heeled pumps were pounding my toes with every "clop." Finally, I got there, opened the door and found the key!

I had to sit to get them off, and gushed tears when my butt hit the chair. Did it sting! But, finally I got one open, unstrapped the shoe and got it off.

"Thank God!"

In 15 minutes I was back in my own clothing and almost felt normal except for my stinging, throbbing butt. Made my way to the reception room and got my papers stamped, "Treatment Completed."

Would I ever sexually harass another girl?

What do you think?