It was meant to be a typical week in a caravan at a British seaside resort: booze, birds and bonking. But when Gavin wakes up after their first drunken evening, he finds a Y-gina locked on his genitals, and he desperately needs to remove it.
Caution: This story contains language typical of many young British men; in other words, lots of swearing, including colloquial references to genitalia.
By the Seaside
by Lin Dale
"Hi Gavin," James said, entering the end cabin of the caravan they were sharing for a week's holiday. "I brought you a cup of tea."
Gavin managed to open his eyes and moan. "Oh God! I feel rough. What time is it?"
"Almost midday," James said. "I was getting a bit worried about you."
"How much did I drink, last night?"
"Quite a lot. I had to help you walk back here to the caravan."
"Bloody hell," Gavin said. "I vaguely remember that." He became aware that he was naked under the bedclothes. "Did you undress me?"
James smirked. "I guess Sharon did that."
"Sharon? I don't remember Sharon."
"After coming back here and collapsing, you got a second wind. Said you were going back to the bar for a nightcap. You returned about five minutes later having met Sharon on the way. You told me to make myself scarce whilst you and she... You know."
"You mean I scored with her and I can't even remember meeting her! Fuck me. What was she like?"
"She was gorgeous," James said. "Long blonde hair, big tits. Absolutely fantastic."
"Ooh!" Gavin screwed up his face and said, "It feels a bit cramped down there." He slipped his hand beneath the sheets to give his tackle a rub. "Fuck me!" He suddenly sat up very straight, and threw the bedclothes aside, staring down at his genitals.
"Fucking hell!" he cried. Between his legs was a vagina!
***
“It’s not a real cunt,” Gavin said after a brief investigation. “It’s been fixed over my own tackle and... Jesus, that fucking hurts. I need to get this thing off.”
“That may be a problem,” James said, waving a greetings card he’d picked up from the bedside table. On the front it read, 'You’re a Lousy Fucker'." James turned it round so Gavin could see the inside. 'You’ve now been locked up in a Y-gina,' it read.
“What the fuck!” Gavin said, grabbing the card from him and quickly reading the details. “The Y-gina; a vagina for those with a Y-chromosome. What's a Y-chromosome anyway? It's got armoured steel! Electronic lock! I need to get this off... Oh Jesus, I’m getting a hard on and it’s so painful.” He doubled up in agony.
James reached across and picked up the card to continue reading. “Look,” he said, pointing at the handwriting on the back page. “It says, 'If you want to get this off, you can text me this evening after eight, but not before. Sharon'.” A mobile number had been added.
“Fuck that,” Gavin said, reaching for his phone and dialing. “I need it off now.”
“That may not be wise,” James said. “She’s specifically said ring after eight.”
Gavin listened for a second and then threw down his phone. ”She’s cut me off,” he said. Then he snatched his phone back up a moment later as a text came in. “It says I told you when to ring,” he read. “Disobedience adds twelve hours onto the time. Fuck, what am I going to do?”
“Text her tomorrow morning,” James suggested. “And in the meantime, try not to think about sex.”
“But I need a piss,” Gavin wailed.
“It says here,” James pointed inside the card, “that you can urinate as a woman urinates, sitting down.”
“Oh fuck,” Gavin said, getting up and dashing for the toilet. “This is so fucking degrading.”
A few seconds later, James heard the sound of urine in the toilet bowl. “At least you’re not splashing it over the floor like you did last night.”
Gavin gave a four letter response, and then a shriek. "Hell, she's turned my arsehole into a cunt."
Although he wouldn't normally have entered the toilet when Gavin was inside, James felt empowered to investigate. Gavin had his head between his knees, trying to peer up his arse.
"Do you want me to have a look?" James asked.
Gavin pulled a face and then said, "I suppose you'd better. It's not as though I have any goolies you can admire." He turned around and leant over the toilet seat so that James could peer at his bum.
"It's quite clever, actually," James said. "It looks like your vagina lips are longer than most and they extend over your arsehole. My guess is some kind of sheath has been pushed up your arse so a man can shove his prick up."
"You'd better not fucking try. But how am I going to shit?"
"We'd better read the instructions," James said. "There's a link to a webpage on the card." He got out his phone and typed in the website from the card he was still holding. "It says here,” he said, reading from the website, “there's some kind of catch at the rear you can squeeze which lets the plastic vagina move forward to let out the nasty stuff." He showed Gavin the picture on his phone.
"Jesus. I mean why did she do this to me? OK, maybe last night I was a bit pissed. Maybe I didn't give her proper respect or a shattering orgasm. But she must have had this thing with her, ready to put on some poor unsuspecting dude."
"She's probably one of those man-haters," James suggested. "Makes you do all sorts of stupid things before releasing you."
"What sort of things?" Gavin asked.
"I dunno. Perhaps buy flowers for every woman you meet. Or offer to clean every woman's shoes by getting down on your knees and licking them."
"Shit! She wouldn't, would she?"
"What is obvious is that she is one freaky lady, and she has the key to your cock. I think you'd better do exactly what she says, otherwise you'll be travelling back to London with that thing still on your dick."
"Oh shit!" Gavin said.
***
Gavin managed to get through most of the day without too many painful erections. He stayed in the caravan mostly, and they spent ages searching the internet for clues on how to remove the Y-gina. Locksmiths seemed to be clueless and the only hope was the careful use of an angle grinder, with a paramedic standing by, just in case something was lopped off in error.
For lunch, they went to the on-site bar where Gavin had got so drunk the previous evening. Fortunately (did he really mean fortunately?), there weren't any sexy girls around this time, only the comely barmaid who gave him a wink as he paid for the drinks.
"Don't even think about telling anyone about this Y-gina or you're dead," he told James as they sat down.
"No way am I going to tell anyone in here I'm living with a freak who keeps his cock chained up, so don't worry," James said.
"Seriously, why do you think she's doing this?" Gavin asked.
James shook his head. "It's difficult to know, except that there are some really anti-male women about. I mean, if they're lesbians, what do they need a man for?"
"Procreating the fucking species?" Gavin responded.
"Here are your two Ploughman's lunches," the barmaid said, laying them on the table and in doing so giving Gavin an eyeful down the front of her blouse. He could actually see a nipple.
"Aagh!" he yelled.
The barmaid looked quickly at him. "What's the matter, love? You're not gay are you?"
"He's a lesbian actually," James said. "He fancies women."
She gave him a queer look at that, but left them to their food.
***
So they got through the rest of the day. James went to the supermarket in the afternoon and got a load of beers and some food in so they needn't go to the bar, which would be crawling with girls looking for a fanciable bloke.
They had a reasonable meal that evening, had a few beers and then got an early night.
***
It was about three am when James was awoken by a terrible screaming. He dashed into Gavin's room. "What's the matter?"
"I've got a woody," Gavin yelled, "and it's killing me."
James shrugged. "Go and jump in the shower and turn on the cold tap. And you really don't need to get me out of bed for me to tell you that. And if you make that noise again, then I will be telling everyone about this." He marched back to his bed.
"You might give me some sympathy," Gavin said to his back. All the same, he could see his point and he knew that if word of this got back to his other mates, he'd be ridiculed for evermore.
***
"Sorry about waking you in the night," Gavin said next morning.
"What time is it?" James asked. "It must still be the middle of the night."
"It's ten to eight and it means I can call Sharon in ten minutes."
"Hang on," James said. "She only said text her. I think if you call her, she'll probably add another twelve hours onto the time when you can text her."
"Good point. OK, what will I say?"
James realized that Gavin accepted he couldn't force Sharon to unlock him. He had to persuade her.
"How about: 'Hi Sharon. It's Gavin, the guy you locked up yesterday. Please could you unlock me?' "
Gavin shrugged. "Spose." He picked up his phone and started to key in the message. On the stroke of eight, he sent it.
No reply. A minute went by. Still no reply. Another minute, then another and another.
"Jesus, what's she doing?" Gavin asked.
She may be keeping you sweating," James said. "Or perhaps she hasn't woken up yet. Or maybe she's on the way to her job. It could be anything. The best thing is if we just get up and have breakfast and hope she replies before midday."
"Midday!" Gavin yelled. "I can't wait that long."
James grinned. "And your other option is…" he pointedly said."
It was almost nine before the text came in. 'You simply don't understand women, do you? S'
On James's advice, Gavin replied: 'I try to but I'm still learning. G'
Another quarter of an hour before: 'Are you willing to learn some more? S'
'Of course. Simply tell me how. G'
It was over an hour before the reply came: 'In order to understand women, you have to experience being one. Buy a pair of F cup breasts and a wig from the transgender shop in town. Then you can go into Victoria's Secrets and purchase some underwear to go with it, and then buy a short skirt and low cut top. Walk along the promenade at 5 and go onto the pier and play the machines. See you there… or else. S'
"She has to be joking," Gavin said.
"If she is, then the joke's on you, mate," James said. "She's your only hope of getting released from that thing."
"But the promenade and pier will still be heaving with people at five."
"I think that's the point," James said.
"I can't do it."
"You don't have to," James said. "You could spend the rest of your life with a vagina."
***
“Are you ready to go, mate?” Gavin had on his jacket and was waiting expectantly at the door.
“Me?” James said. “You’re not expecting me to come to a transgender shop and Victoria’s Secrets, are you?”
“Please, mate. I really need your support.”
James considered, realising how much nicer Gavin had become since he’d had his vagina.
“And then go clothes shopping? I mean, what bloke wants to go clothes shopping with another bloke?”
“I can’t do this on my own, mate,” Gavin said. “I really need you.”
James sighed. “OK. But I never thought this would be on the cards when you invited me to a boozy week at the seaside.”
***
Actually, neither shop was as terrifying as they had imagined. In the transgender shop, James asked whether a long haired blonde girl with big breasts called Sharon had recently been there, asking about the very products they were buying.
The transvestite serving them winked and said, “No, love. We get plenty of men buying these products and going out as long haired blonde girls with big tits, but I can’t remember anyone like that coming in.”
In Victoria’s Secrets, whilst Gavin nervously hovered near the door, James went straight up to the counter and spoke to an assistant. “My friend over there is very shy, but his girlfriend feels he doesn’t understand women so she’s given him an ultimatum. She’s going to leave him unless he buys some false breasts and then buys underwear and clothes so he can experience life as a female. He's bought the breasts. Could you help him with the underwear, please? Reading between the lines, I think if you could make him really sexy, she’d very much appreciate it. Like that tight corset in the window and stockings, not tights? And don't spare the expense. He's tight but he has plenty and he's deserate.”
The girl smiled. “Of course,” she said. Then she walked up to Gavin and said, “It’s all right. There’s no need to be shy. Let’s go into one of the changing cubicles and I can measure you up and we’ll get you fitted.”
***
Another text came after lunch. 'You'd better make jolly certain you're trying hard to be a woman. Have you shaved your legs yet, had your nails done or had makeup applied? Better make an appointment at the beauty salon, otherwise I'm shredding the paper with the unlock code on it. Ha-ha. S'
"Shit!" Gavin said, handing his phone to James for him to read. "What are we going to do?"
"I'll ring up some beauty salons," James said.
***
"I can't believe I'm doing this," Gavin said later that afternoon. It was just coming up to five and they were standing on the promenade. A few passing blokes had given him appreciative looks, and one had leered and said, "Nice pair of knockers."
"OK, well I've got you here," James said. "I'll see you later."
"See me later. You can't leave me on my own?"
"Why not?"
"Some bloke might hit on me."
"I think," James observed, "that's what Sharon is trying to put you through. Look, I'll retire to a safe distance and come in if things start getting nasty. Just remember to talk in a quiet voice if anyone speaks to you."
With that, Gavin had to be content, and he started to stroll down the promenade. Now he wasn't with James, he got a lot more leery looks and a lot of bawdy comments, which he tried to ignore. In fact, once he got used to ignoring them, he almost started to enjoy it, and he put more spring in his step and swayed his hips a little.
James had pointed out that he'd need coins to go on the pier and play the slots, so he had some change with him. Now he went into the games rooms on the pier and started enjoying himself.
"You're not bad for a girl." The words took Gavin by surprise and he turned to see a bloke grinning at him. "Are you on your own?" the bloke asked.
Gavin smiled as shyly as he knew how and said, "I'm waiting for my boyfriend, thanks."
"He must be stupid," the bloke said, "leaving a sexy girl like you alone in here. You're bound to get hit upon. Do you want me to hang around with you until he comes?"
Gavin peered around, desperately looking for James but he was nowhere to be seen. "It's all right," he said. "I'm sure he'll be here soon."
"Yes, but…"
"Just piss off and leave me alone," Gavin hissed at him, turned his back and started playing again.
"Not surprised you got rid of him," another voice said, followed by a hand squeezing his bum. It hurt. "He's a right plonker. You need someone with balls to look after you."
"Thanks, but I'm waiting for my boyfriend…" Gavin's words were cut off as her new 'friend', who was built like a bull, in both senses of the word, pulled her to him, wrapped his arms around her thereby forcing his hard cock against her and kissed on the mouth. Resistance was useless, although that didn't stop Gavin from trying.
"She's with me," James's voice came from behind the bull, who stopped kissing Gavin, turned and said. "Fuck off."
"I said she's with me," James repeated, although his voice was decidedly shakier than it had been a moment ago.
"Listen you," the bull said, turning round to view James properly. "I told you. Fuck off or I'll be forced to deal with you."
Gavin knew that James would either turn away and retire gracefully, or he'd try his hand and be beaten into pulp. Either was not going to help his position. He ran like crazy towards the Ladies toilet, leaving James to his fate.
***
It was almost an hour later when Gavin plucked up courage to leave the Ladies and walk past the games rooms to the exit from the pier. James was standing quietly in a corner, waiting for him, and sporting a bruise on his face.
"Hi," James said. He pointed to his bruise and said, "I think Sharon has a lot to answer for."
"I got another text from her," Gavin said. "It says your boyfriend is pretty cool. You'd better be good to him from now on. Give him a kiss like that guy kissed you."
"Well, if it's all the same to you," James said, "I'll forgo that."
"I can't though, can I?" Gavin pointed out. "I have to do as she tells me otherwise I don't get released from this thing."
"No way. You're not involving me in your problem…" Further words were cut off as Gavin grabbed James and kissed him as hard as he had ever kissed any woman. Perhaps part of it was the fear that if he didn't, he'd be in the Y-gina forever, but another part was that, in acting the part of a woman, it was quite nice kissing James in gratitude for trying to protect him from that horrible guy, and getting beaten up for it.
"Thank you," Gavin said, when they broke apart. He noted that James had stopped resisting the kiss quite quickly. They would certainly have to make certain that didn't turn into this into a regular habit.
"That was strange," James said. "I mean it really was like kissing a woman."
"Especially when you started squeezing my boobs," Gavin pointed out. "I think perhaps I'd better buy you a meal to compensate for the bruise."
"Actually," James said, "that would seem awkward to me, a pretty girl buying me a meal. Instead, could I buy you a meal? Come on, there's a rather fancy restaurant over there."
***
They had a fantastic meal, so very different from the meals they'd had on this holiday up till now. For James, it really was like being out with a pretty girl, and for Gavin, it was a whole new experience, an experience he quite liked.
The text came towards the end of the evening, as James was paying the bill. 'He's given you a good time. Show your appreciation in the usual way. Go in the alley at the side of the restaurant and give him a blow job.'
Gavin showed James the message, who said, "What do you think? We don't have to."
I don't have any choice," Gavin said, "otherwise I'm locked up forever. Besides, it was a nice meal and I do want to properly thank you." He picked up his handbag. "Let's go find this alley."
As James followed Gavin out of the restaurant, he congratulated himself on how everything had worked out. Purchasing the Y-gina and the cheap mobile beforehand, then slipping the mickey in Gavin's drink on that first evening, so he'd been comatose by the time they'd got back to the caravan. Sending just the right texts, supposedly from the fictitious Sharon, had led Gavin to his fate like a fish on the hook. And with just a few more texts, James knew, he'd be thrusting his cock inside Gavin's Y-gina.
Comments
Too Soon!
Man, you let the cat out of the bag too soon! For the reader, that is. I admit I was caught by surprise.
-- Daphne Xu (a page of contents)
Going to be fun
when inevitably Gavin finds out about James scheme, By then though many things could happen , Gavin might just discover a side of him he didn't know existed, On the other hand he could be very angry indeed... James should remember, Play with fire and you may get burnt!
Kirri
Devious
This was a fun naughty little story of an evil trick played on a supposed friend. I would have liked more backstory to know what provoked James to do this, but I can see how that might tip your hand. I just prefer victims who deserve their fates.
Origin of the Y-gina
A reader asked me where the idea of the Y-gina came from. That set me thinking and I gave her quite a detailed answer which I have copied here for the information of other readers.
I guess it's the personal experience of trying to find something that works down below. I've never succeeded with tucking using adhesive tape, and it's painful.
Whatever I do, going to the toilet usually takes ages to put it all back into presentable order. Then, of course, the thing has a mind of its own and suddenly decides to expand to an unsightly and uncomfortable size.
I started experimenting with chastity cages, not as a means of enforcing chastity but simply to keep it all tidy. There are lots of very bulky ones with dangling padlocks but I eventually found a compact metal cage which abruptly turns downwards and stops. Push it between the legs and pull up my panties and you wouldn't really know there wasn't a vagina beneath. To wee, simply drop the panties, wee and pull them back up, pushing the cage back between the legs.
Apart from bulkiness, the other problem with chastity cages is the complexity of putting them on. The popular ones have dozens of bits, and you have to choose the right size of each part. It can take 30 mins to sort things out. Mine simply has a cage, a hinged ring and a trailer hitch lock, but even that takes a few minutes to get right. I believe a chastity cage should be as quick to put on as a pair of handcuffs.
So combine those two ideas and you get the Y-gina. The Bustlet was introduced by Charlotte Dickles many years ago and since then garments like that have come onto the market. Maybe some manufacurer will read this story and produce it
2nd Reading
I read it before. I'd forgotten the final twist, but remembered it once I hit it.
This time, I kept screaming inside, "Go to a locksmith!" "Go to the ER!" The end reminded me why James was of no help.
I occurs to me that one might write a flash where the twist ending it the un-twist: the victim has a clue, and drives himself straight to the ER. He might have to wait for the police to come to lift fingerprints and other evidence from the device.
-- Daphne Xu (a page of contents)