Raymond Dixon

"Oh. My. God," Holly said in a whisper as she picked up and read the paper. "Ray.... Ray Dixon? He's the meany politician that built this place." Her face screwed up.

"He's the stinker.... " She paused. "He's the awful..."

Her face went pale. "Joanie... Vicki.... Oh, fudge. I can't swear! The computer...."

John hugged Holly tightly. And, to both his surprise and horror, he wasn't shocked by the computer. He wasn't aroused by it. That scared him.

Holly was blinking back tears. "This place has taken another thing from me. I don't have a patron yet. But apparently something has been decided for me."

John knew. In his heart he knew. Her body. The blonde hair. The curves. The voice. He knew.

"Holly..." he said softly, "I fear you're becoming a... a bimbo. I'm sorry." He held her and she sobbed into his arms. He hated this. Holly was smart, emphasis on "was." She was kind and loving and didn't deserve this fate.

After several minutes, Holly looked up at John, her face flush and wet with tears. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "There's nothing we can do..."

John swallowed hard. "We'll see, Holly. I don't want to be a bride." A strong shock to his chastity plate knocked John down as he grabbed his crotch and groaned in pain.

Holly knelt and put her hand on John's shoulder. "It looks like the computer doesn't want you saying that, Joanie." Holly was then shocked and gave a small squeak of surprise and pain. "Sorry..." she gasped. "I meant Vicki. You should spell that ending with an 'I,' 'cause that would be super cute!"

John slowly stood. He picked up the paper and noticed he had been assigned new training. God, he hated new training. The first thing listed was "Bridal Enthusiasm." That did not sound like anything fun.

John and Holly were released into general population, and Holly announced to everyone that Joanie was now Vicki, that her name had been legally changed. So that was it. His small group of friends now were calling him Vicki. Any other name, they soon found out, received punishment. The man that was John was slowly fading into history. After showering and putting on their makeup for the day, the group dispersed for their individual training.

John reported to the room for his "Bridal Enthusiasm Training," and dreaded what this was going to be. To his surprise, the room looked much like the first time he had makeup applied: a small desk and a chair.

"Prisoner 1LEZ4535 will sit at the desk. Failure to comply will be punished."

John didn't like the sound of that, but there wasn't much he could, he knew by this point. He just needed to contact someone living!

He minced forward and pulled the chair out, and timidly sat, crossing his legs without any further thought. He half expected bonds spring out and trap him in the chair. But nothing happened. A computer screen slid up from the desk and powered on. A gorgeous woman with very white teeth smiled at him. "Hi, Victoria! Welcome to bridal enthusiasm training! Here we're going to get you thinking like a bride. You'll learn all about gowns, lingerie, wedding gifts, registries... fun things like that! Let's get started, shall we?"

John blinked. Was this a video call? "Uh... Hello? What's your name?" he asked, thinking that a simple question like that shouldn't set off any punishments. It didn't.

The brunette continued grinning at him. She repeated, "Hi, Victoria! Welcome to bridal enthusiasm training! Here we're going to get you thinking like a bride. You'll learn all about gowns, lingerie, wedding gifts, registries... fun things like that! Let's get started, shall we?"

John sighed. Another recording. "Sure," he said, defeatedly.

The screen switched to show the names of several bridal fashion houses. "Please pick a designer, and we'll start looking at gowns. Of course, your final figure decided upon by your fiance will have to be taken into consideration for the best style, but we'll get there soon enough!" the brunette's voice said.

John jabbed a finger at the screen, picking one of the designers at random. "Scroll through the dresses, and start thinking about what you'd love to walk down the aisle in!"

John sat there and swiped the gowns left and right. As he did so, he felt a nub in his chastity plate begin to buzz. It was positioned right between his balls and it felt... wonderful. He began to leak through his plate and moaned, putting his hands in his crotch. God, it felt good...

John spent some time just slowly swiping randomly through the gowns, savoring the vibrator in his new chastity plate. It felt nice, but he still couldn't get erect, and he wished so badly that he could touch himself and orgasm as he should. The only orgasms he'd had since he arrived in this madhouse were via penetration by the training mannequins. He wasn't paying attention to the gowns, just wishing he could have that damn plate off.

"Good," the brunette's voice finally said. "Now, let's have a little quiz on what you just learned."

Quiz? That sentence snapped John out of orgasmic desire haze. There was a quiz? This was NOT a good development.

The brunette's voice was replaced by the computer's, "Prisoner 1LEZ4535 will touch the appropriate answer on the screen for each question. Incorrect answers will be punished."

The screen changed to a multiple choice question about the most common style of gown one designer made. John did not recall the designer's line at all, and he certainly didn't recognize any of the dress styles listed. He hesitated.

"Prisoner 1LEZ4535 has 15 seconds to make a selection. Failure to do so or an incorrect answer will result in punishment."

Panicking, John stabbed a manicured finger at an answer. He was immediately shocked through his chastity device. This was MUCH more intense than the normal shocks he'd be receiving to date. He cried out in pain and his hands went to his crotch for a different reason. "Incorrect," the computer flatly said. The correct answer was then highlighted.

The quiz continued, with John being asked about colors and styles and designers of the gowns, how well they would work for his figure, what they would enhance, what they would camouflage. He had to randomly guess at the answers. Most resulted in the painful shocks. For the very seldom correct answer, the vibrator gave him just enough stimulation that it made him **** to orgasm. He was either teased and kept on edge or given a painful shock. And John knew that this was going to be VERY effective training, and that his new chastity plate was a horrible change. And that he was going to learn all about bridal fashions and customs whether he wanted to or not.

After what seemed like forever, there was a small chime, and the computer intoned, "Prisoner 1LEZ4535 will now report for Spousal Styling. Failure to comply will be punished." Sighing, John stood and walked as he'd been taught, onward to his next training.