Another Forced Feminization Story; Part 1
A TG sister from another site wrote this. It is translated from French and is so LONG that the system won't allow me to make it one single post. So here's…
A TG sister from another site wrote this. It is translated from French and is so LONG that the system won’t allow me to make it one single post. So here’s part one, ENJOY. I’ve always enjoyed imagining what it would be like to be a girl, to look as pretty and dress the way girls do. I’ve downloaded lots of stories about it from the Net. But I’ve never had the courage to try it myself, not even to try on a pair of panties. The thought always got me trembling. My urges got so powerful they frightened me — I couldn’t tell where they’d lead. I joined Feminization web site instructing me how to become a virtual girl. It was fun obeying orders, and pretending I was doing all those feminine things, and reading encouraging messages. Well a couple of months ago I was reading how sissies please their men by sucking their cocks, when suddenly I heard my girlfriend’s voice just behind me. “Oh, my!” she said. “How fascinating! But you read so slowly, Andy! Scroll down so I can see which they advise you to do first, lick the pre-cum off the tip of the man’s cock or just take the whole head into your mouth! Which do you do?” I was shocked! Never so embarrassed in my life! There behind me was my girlfriend Kate calmly reading the screen over my shoulder! How long had she been there?! What must she think of me!? That would never have happened last year when she was still doing office work, and wore perfume and clicked around all day on heels. I always knew when she was home, from her scent and her sound. But then she finished her nursing degree and took that job in that downtown clinic, and now between her rubber-soled shoes and her silent ways she could be anywhere! Like, just behind me! “Is this what you dream about when you’re not working?” she asked. “Becoming a girl? Tell me, sweetie, right now is that what you are in your own mind? If that what you want to be? Do you want to wear pretty clothes, and look cute, so boys will like you? I mean even when you aren’t giving them head?” “I e-mailed a long report in this afternoon,” was all I could think to say. “My boss says he’s happy with it. I thought I’d just look around a little,” I finished vaguely. My face was flushed deep red because now the screen was illustrating the best ways to slide your bright red lips up and down a cock so a man will cum in your mouth. “Let’s see what this place is, what the web site is where you like to just look around a little.” Before I could reach for an off-switch she leaned over and took the mouse and began clicking her way back and forth through the whole web site. I just sat there, humiliated. There was no escaping even the name, “Sissify.” That is what it was for. For feminizing men. She glanced at medical papers on hormones and stories about wives and girlfriends converting men into their sisters or whores and different domineering women demanding that their sissies wear panties and brassieres all the time and pictures of men fully dressed as women with real breasts and real cocks too, and many appreciative letters to the staff thanking them for their help. Now and then she glanced at me, a slight smile curling her mouth. In no time she’d seen it all. “Well,” she said. “Very interesting. I see you didn’t just stumble into this garden of delights. You had to join up, didn’t you, uh, ‘Annie.’ That’s your screen name, isn’t it, sweetheart? That’s so sweet! You even had to fill out an elaborate questionnaire, didn’t you? You really want this, don’t you?” She remembered something. “Did you remember to tell them how once you volunteered to rinse out my soiled undies, and I let you? I thought it was an odd offer at the time, and I wondered about you. Did you sniff them? Did you try on some of my prettier panties afterward?” “No, I didn’t dare.” I had nothing else to say. I sat there clutching my hands in my lap. Nowhere to hide! I felt devastated! “You didn’t dare follow out your little urges? You wanted me to tell you to wear my panties?” Her voice was no longer mocking, but it had taken on an odd lilt. I said nothing. That was what I wanted, yes. “You know, Andy dear,” she went on. “I’ve been thinking about your proposal to me, your wanting to marry me? I mean, we do live together and all, but I’d had no idea you felt that way toward me, thought you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me and all. I was really deeply moved, Andy honey, really, and I’ve been looking very deeply into my own feelings and needs since then. Into what I want in a husband. But this puts a different color on a decision like that, doesn’t it? It does make a difference.” I got frightened. “Kate, please!!” I said. I’d blown it! She’ll never want to marry me now! Oh, God! “Kate, this isn’t me!” I almost started to cry. “I’ve never done any of these things!” “Why not?” A surprising question. I turned to look behind me, and found I was looking straight into her eyes. They were quite serious, curious, not at all scornful. I couldn’t answer her. Because I’m a real man, not a sissy? Because the idea scared me? Would pretending to be a woman scare a real man? Any answer declared that I was either a wannabe sissy or a pathetic wimp! So I said nothing. There was one pathetic wimp in our circle we saw socially now and then, and I’d always felt sorry for him. In fact just the previous week Kate’s best friend Claire had brought him to dinner with her — they were married. Claire is a strong-minded, no-nonsense doctor where they both work, stunning and self-assured, and Wilmer looks to be her completely opposite — he’s good-looking enough, and well-built, but very quiet, even timid. I think he’s an accountant. And Claire keeps him that way. Wilmer spoke up only twice all evening and she put him down both times, and he looked apologetic both times. After they left we talked about mismatched couples. Kate thought Wilmer an interesting choice in a man for a dynamic woman like Claire. “She likes to be in charge, I suppose,” she said. “There’s something to say for that.” I thought so too. “I guess Claire likes wearing the pants. Or maybe she enjoys Wilmer so much from the waist down — he looks pretty fit, physically — that she doesn’t mind any deficiencies higher up.” Kate started to say something about that, then lapsed silent. But now, I thought, she’s surely thinking I’m another Wilmer! Oh, God! Suddenly she came around in front of me and pushed my keyboard to one side and turned and leaned her round rump onto the edge of my desk and then lifted up and sat down right where the keyboard had been. There just under my face was her crotch, covered by her tight jeans, the deep crease between her legs visible despite the heavy denim. Her labia may have been swollen the whole length of her slit. Was she excited about something? I couldn’t take my eyes off that crease. Was the denim dark there, because she was a little wet? Now her body was blocking the screen. “Never mind these games you like to play with your imagination,” she said. “Let’s see what you’re really capable of doing. Do you really want to be my submissive sissy girl, Annie honey? To do everything I tell you? Let’s say I want you to kiss my pussy, right there where you’re staring? Would you want to?” There was safety in honesty. “Yes.” “But would you do it? Kiss it just the way it is, just because I tell you to? I’ve had no shower all day, and there’s sweat and who knows what other kinds of dried moisture down there, maybe even some pee that never got wiped away. And who knows what else right now.” She wiggled her bottom on the desk a few times, tempting me. I thought about it. We’d never done any oral sex, just a lick and a promise once, right after we’d both showered and gotten into bed. She didn’t seem to want it, at least from me. So this was a test of some kind. “Yes,” I said. “What if I’ve just been with another man, and haven’t had time to clean myself up. Would you kiss me there anyhow? Like right now?” Now she was playing with me. There haven
any other men. There couldn’t have been any. “Have you done it?” I asked. “That’s not the question. The real question is, would you if I told you to? Now that you’re worried, why don’t you ask me to let you kiss my pussy? Are you afraid to ask, sissy girl!” “Please, Kate,” I blurted out desperately, trying to show her I was a man, not afraid to ask. “May I kiss your pussy?” There it still was, that magical crease curving down below her pelvic mound. “Please, who?” I thought a moment. I knew she was a quick study, and I couldn’t be sure what she’d absorbed while she was surfing her way through. So I went all out. “Please, Mistress Kate, may I kiss your beautiful cunt? Please?” “Maybe,” she replied. She sounded as if she were enjoying this new teasing game. I didn’t dare look up and break the spell. It isn’t polite to look directly at your Mistress’s face when you are being dominated. “Annie, I don’t think I want you to call me “Mistress,” except maybe when I need to be strict with you. But you can’t call me ‘Kate’ any more. It isn’t respectful from a sissy-girl. “‘Kate’ is for an equal, for a boyfriend or a girlfriend. And you aren’t my boyfriend right now, and you aren’t my girlfriend either. Not yet. So you’d better call me ‘Ms. Katherine’ or ‘Ma’am’ until you’re one or the other. Are you willing to serve me unquestioningly, Annie dear? To do everything I tell you? To be mine? For me to own you?” I was absolutely entranced! This was too good to be true! Here was my actual girlfriend playing my favorite fantasy game, and I never knew she even knew about that kind of thing! Maybe we could stretch this out through the entire weekend? “Oh, Yes, Ms. Katherine!” I replied. I glanced quickly up, then shyly back down to her crotch again. She was indeed grinning broadly to herself, delighted about something, and from the gleam in her eyes I could see that her mind was racing away at a mile a minute! “Yes, Ma’am!,” I repeated for emphasis. “Everything? I mean it, Andy! I really mean it! Are you sure you don’t want to back away!” What could she have in mind? I didn’t care! I was ecstatic! “Yes, Ms. Katherine.” “Then in token of your new servile status you may touch your nose and mouth to my pussy and sniff me once, and then kiss me through my jeans. Later maybe I’ll let you smell my naked slit and lick up anything you find there, if you can prove you’re really sincere, and if you do everything I ask. Not yet.” She paused for a moment. I could tell that all kinds of switches were closing on plans in her head. “Then, Annie dear, I want you to go up to our bedroom and strip yourself naked and wait for me to join you there. I need to make some arrangements down here before we continue with this.” I hesitated. Had she finished speaking? “I should have known about this streak in you, Andy, or now you’re ‘Annie,’ aren’t you? But I can’t say I’ve ever suspected it! Well! It couldn’t be more convenient!” I waited. “Go on, go ahead! Hurry up! Kiss me, then upstairs quickly, and wait! I’ll want to look through other files in this computer of yours, too, and see what else has been on your mind. I want to see what else you like to think constitutes the good life.” So I closed my eyes and leaned forward and nuzzled her crotch. The denim was in fact damp, with a faint end-of-day body odor, like perspiration, a little sour, and a little musky, but nothing specific. I pushed my face deep into her, then kissed her gently. She responded by pushing her pussy back into my face ever so slightly, just once, as if nodding in acknowledgment. Then not daring to look at her again I stood up and ran out of the room, up into our bedroom, and I stripped down. I was still terribly embarrassed, but now also terribly excited, and I had this incredible boner, the biggest and hardest I’ve ever had! Nothing like this had happened between us in the whole time we’d been living together, nearly two years! It had started out as a pairing of convenience, I had the whole house and she had money to share the rent. Then it quickly become a bedding down of convenience too — we liked each other and we got on, and we slept together whenever either of us wanted to. Then after a while it looked as if we were going steady. She had other friends, and I did too, and we had no specific understandings and made no exclusive claims on each other, but there we were. Little by little my other really intimate relationships dropped away. Kate worked long hours, days and nights sometimes, and she took a girl’s night out with Claire or some other woman from work now and then, to unwind with them. But otherwise we’d become a close couple. Not long ago I realized that I was in love with her. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. She’s tall, with smooth dark hair that just barely curls in to hug her neck above her shoulders, and huge eyes and wide cheekbones, always with a grave but gentle expression on her face, and she always moves gracefully, perfectly self-assured. She’s everything feminine I’d ever wanted! And she has this positive way about her, touched with playfulness. I realized I’d do anything for her! So I finally got up the nerve and asked her to marry me. I wanted us to go on forever. She’d never suggested to me that she felt the same way about me, but she listened to me carefully, I thought affectionately, and then quietly she’d told me she’d let me know. It might take some time, there were things she wanted to think about, she said, but her answer for now was not ‘No’ and I’d have to be content with that. But now, I thought despairing as I sat on the bed naked, waiting for her, the odds for a ‘Yes’ had dropped to zero. My cock shrank down. After a long half-hour, maybe more, she came into the bedroom. In between I heard her make a couple of phone calls, and mutter some things in a low voice, and share a laugh with someone at the other end once, someone female I figured because she finished the conversation squealing in delight and giggling about something I couldn’t quite make out. I was sitting on the bed waiting for her as ordered. No big deal, we’d seen each other in the buff almost from the moment she moved in. It was a matter of convenience, two people living together and sleeping together and working odd hours. She shut the door behind her. “I see you haven’t learned some of the things I’ve learned while scanning your interesting little collection of smut. First of all, what does a sexual inferior say when he’s been permitted to kiss his Lady’s private parts? You came here without a word.” “Thank you, Ms. Katherine,” I instantly replied, making a mental note never to forget that courtesy when we next got to play this game together. “Do you know how to curtsy when you say that, sissy girl?” I stood up and tried. Right foot back, hands at sides, bend the other knee, and bow. Or something like that. “And how does a sissy await a Mistress when she’s told him to wait for her?” I immediately fell to my knees and pushed my forehead into the shag rug that covered the floor. My cock became hard again, crammed between my belly and my thighs. “That’s better,” she said. Then for ten more minutes, not a word from her. She went into her closet and rustled among the clothes hangers, and she opened a locked cabinet where she kept different things related to her work, and closed it again, and she hummed to herself for a minute or two, I imagined she was doing something that didn’t require her full attention. I heard her sit down on the bed behind me, and I worried that now I was presenting my backside to her, high up in the air, mooning her. That didn’t seem very respectful. But I didn’t dare raise my head or change my position. “Annie dear.” My penis gave a little leap at that, and I settled in to listen very carefully, eager to play the submissive some more with her! “I told you before that I was going to test your sincerity. I mean really test it. What I have in mind is not a game, though I’m sure you still think it is. I h
“I hope you’ll enjoy the new relationship I have in mind, and that later on you’ll truly value what I’ve done. If things go well, we might even end up married!” My heart leaped with joy, feeling its powerful beat within me! Hope! “But not everything a sissy girl ends up doing is necessarily what she expected or wanted to do in the first place, is it, Annie?” “No, Ma’am,” I muttered, my mouth muffled by the thick shag rug. My knees were grateful for that rug at this moment. Kate apparently had a plan now fully ripened in her mind. Did it include whipping, or torture? I wasn’t into pain of any kind, as my knees already testified. I hoped not. It surely involved the entire weekend the way I’d hoped, because she’d said “afterward,” and talked about how we’d “end up.” Maybe even married! “I saw from all those stories you read downstairs what turns you on. Not cruelty, but humiliation. You really want to feel yourself being transformed into a woman. Any of your usual manly pride or dignity has to be melted down, made to feel uncomfortable, even intolerable, so you’ll be eager to collaborate with me as I reshape you into what I want. That’s what assures me you’ll obey me in everything, isn’t it? That my way becomes the course of least resistance for you. Not what you think my way ought to be, and not your way. My way!” Kate had this incredible ability to get to the heart of things! I was enthralled! “Yes, Ms. Katherine,” I said. “That’s it exactly!” “Your opinion whether I’m exact or not is not welcome, Annie!” Kate snapped. “I asked you for a simple ‘yes’!” I cringed even further into the shag rug, my mouth now filling with the yarn, but I dared not lift my head. “Yes, Ma’am,” I said muffled. “And you know from your stories that sissy submissives often get more than they bargained for, don’t they? Mistresses go much further than their slaves mean for them to go, don’t they? That’s where the excitement comes in, doesn’t it? From feeling that things are out of control, that control has passed from your desires to hers, that you’re now helpless to resist her desires, that you’ve made yourself her creature. Don’t bother to answer this time. I know this is so.” I writhed for just a moment to try to dislodge my mouthful of shag rug. It was effectively gagging me. But since my forehead had to stay plastered to the floor, my mouth filled all the more. “All right, Annie, you’ve been warned. You know now that I understand not just the rituals of this game you want to play, but its soul. And that I understand your soul! That if you are to be my servant, you’ll be my kind of servant, not your kind. My slave. That I’ll possess you absolutely. And I mean for life!” She paused. Was she talking about marriage? No, not exactly. Now I felt genuinely frightened. But so deliciously! She said she’d go even further than I’d dreamed! Was she serious? I really couldn’t tell. But that’s the way this game had to be played! She had such a marvelous instinct for it! I was so absolutely convinced she fully meant everything she said! In the stories I’d read, whenever a sex-slave accepts his status, his Lady padlocks a leather collar around his neck, engraved with her name. Something like that. I waited for Kate to suggest something like that. And that’s what she did next! “Now Annie, you know that sissies owned by their Ladies always agree to wear some kind of symbol of their servitude. It’s always more or less permanent, not easily removed. I want you to wear my symbol every hour of every day, at work, at home, in the shower, in bed, everywhere.” I was positively enraptured! Just as I’d always hoped! Sweet juices rose into my distended prick! In my extreme crouch, squeezed between my pelvis and my thighs, it was perilously close to exploding, and in buckets! I had to distract myself! I tried paying not-too-close attention to Kate’s words, but it was hard. I’d been dreaming of this moment much of my life! Would Kate now fasten a dog collar around my neck? Wrap leather thongs around my genitals? Lock a chastity tube onto my cock? I was trembling! “Now Annie, you are going to wear a special pledge to me that’s unmistakable! So you’ll never forget who owns you, and how I own you, and for what! I know you still have to function in the real world, so it won’t be too visible to the casual eye. In most circumstances you’ll be able to hide it. It won’t be part of the way the world sees you, or how you think they see you. Not unless I tell you to reveal it, as I probably will soon, not right away. So for now it’ll be something just between us, and of course anyone I may choose to tell about it. You’ll feel too ashamed to tell anyone about it at first, I’m sure, too humiliated. Until you’ve re-centered your identity and become what I want you to be. Then you’ll feel proud of it, and then I know you’ll want to display it openly.” Mysterious! Not some kind of cock-binder? A very thin slave collar to wear under button-down dress shirts at the office? An ear ring in a pierced ear? She seems to expect I’ll wear it all the time. Well, all right, clearly she doesn’t mean to disgrace me with anything obvious, some massive restraint on my neck or my ankle that would raise embarrassing questions. She wasn’t cruel. I felt utterly devoted to Kate at that moment. She knew my needs, and I knew she wouldn’t betray them! “Once again, Andy! ‘Andy’ for the last time. Think of this as the most crucial moment of your life! It is for me too, because whether you know it or not, and I’m sure you don’t, you here on your face with your ass in the air in absolute surrender to me happens to be just perfect for me! It solves a big problem I’ve had for some time! So! Andy, do you accept my guidance in all things from now on. As you would put it, will you obey me as your Domme, or Mistress, or Dominatrix, or Lady, whatever you call such women? As your owner? Do you offer me your most precious gift, your absolute obedience? Whether or not I choose to care, or even seem grateful? Am I the one person you will love, honor, and obey, and have and hold in sickness and health for as long as you live?” Was she marrying me? Was she agreeing to marry me? No, but I was delighted anyhow. In her mind I was marrying her! That’s half of it! Now she was silent, waiting patiently for my answer. All this only an hour or two after she’d walked into my study and discovered my secret fantasy life! What other sexual games could she conceive for next weekend, or whenever we both became weary of this one, I wondered. What an incredible woman! “Yes, Ma’am,” I remembered to say despite my excitement. “Yes, Ms. Katherine. Yes, my Lady! I do!” “I heard you, but this is important, so I want to ask you yet again. And to warn you yet again. For the third and final time, Andy. I have in mind some things you may love in fantasy but not like in reality at all. Not until you become the creature of my fantasy. Are you willing?” Pain? Torture? I hoped not. Fabulous tests of endurance, of my devotion to her, of my ability to hold up under enormous hardships for her sweet sake? I’d love that! I loved her! “Yes, Ms. Katherine, I am willing!” I finally managed to say it! I never felt more excited in my life! My heart pounded! I was near fainting! “Please! Whatever you wish!” And suddenly a rich joy rose up unbidden and uncontrollable from deep in my groin into the base of my prick! I couldn’t help it! I felt a ravishing tension rise up in my bowels and become a rainbow glow, and suffuse itself through all of that part of me thrust closest to her, filling my thighs with exquisite bliss. My ass clenched and quivered over and over, and then a glory spilled out into a rapturous spurt after spurt of hot cum squirting all over my belly and chest and even in splats into my mouth, crammed as it now was with yarn from the shag rug! My penis was so squeezed so tight now between my thighs that I couldn’t feel its spasmodic throbbing, but I felt my body go incandescent.
Yes! The whole lower section of my body surged into an orgasm! Which might explain why I felt absolutely nothing from Kate at that precise moment. I had expected her to secure the collar, or perhaps attach a lasso to my testicles and lead me off for binding. But she did none of those things. In fact, it seemed as though she didn’t even realize I’d just experienced the greatest climax of my life. As the sensation faded, I realized that this grand process had been concealed within the deep folds of my belly and thighs, with no sign of my cum yet visible anywhere. She simply continued speaking. However, this time there was a note of elation in her voice, even as she tried to keep up the controlled tone from earlier. It wasn’t casual; it carried a touch of neglect or carelessness. Firm, like the voice a mistress should use when addressing her servant. But now it also sounded triumphant. “Annie, there is no turning back now. You are already changing! The two pricks you just felt in your rear were intramuscular injections designed to kickstart the process immediately after I obtained your fully informed consent, which was tape recorded and repeated three times.” “Both injections provide long-term effects. One will sissify you as quickly as modern medicine allows. It will pump estrogen, estradiol, progesterone, and certain androgen suppressants into your body over the next two weeks. After we evaluate how your body responds to that dosage, we’ll implant patches so the process can continue and finish without further attention from anyone. This will give you a girl’s way of thinking and feeling, along with many physical characteristics of a female body. You are going to be a woman in your body, not just in your mind.” “The other shot was a tranquilizer-sedative, the kind we administer to patients undergoing minor surgical procedures. I want to keep you relaxed for the next few days, peacefully asleep, because I want you to remember this initiation with joy, without any pain or soreness associated with it. When you wake up, you will be fitted with your pledge to me, my symbol of ownership. I have already arranged it with Claire, and she will arrive shortly to help fit it properly. For now, only you will know it is there, though you will never forget its presence. Until you wish for everyone else to know as well, which will happen much sooner than you might imagine.” “Annie, you are a dear! You will soon understand just how very dear you are to me! When you wake up.” Then she added, “Poor sweetie, you never did get the chance to lick my pussy clean. Well, it’ll be here again, and you’ll have plenty of opportunities for that too.” I remember her saying all this, and I felt an increasing sense of pleasure in hearing those words spoken to me. What was her ‘symbol’? Perhaps body piercings? Maybe a ring in my frenum, whatever that is? Despite all the talk about shots and transformation, everything she said felt deeply satisfying, and I rolled over onto my side on the shag rug feeling utterly content as sleep took me. The next morning I opened my eyes. No! The calendar clock on our nightstand indicated I had been asleep for three days! So, three mornings later, I woke to sunshine flooding into the room. “There you are, Annie honey!” Kate said, pulling back the final curtain. Now the light seemed almost blinding. “I am currently on call and have just received a summons, but I will return in about two hours to see how you are settling in today is the first day of the rest of your life, honey, and believe me, that isn’t a cliché. You will lead a very different existence from now on. Just lie there and rest. Your incisions have practically healed already, and you have been completely depilated, so there is not much for you to do but enjoy discovering this new version of yourself.” She came over and stood above me. Gradually, I recalled everything. Kate. She had discovered my interest in humiliation fantasies, the loss of masculinity, and other such things. And she had taken charge; she owned me. I stared up at her, still unable to find words to speak. Was the weekend already over? That must have been quite a scene! Where was I while we played it out? Then I remembered her earlier talk about tranquilizers and sedatives, and how I wouldn’t feel sore. “Ah, I see you are with us again. Lie still for just a little longer. Remember, you belong to me now, and you must not put anything of mine at risk. I want you to discover on your own exactly how I claim you, and when you do, I want you simply to lie there and do nothing but think about what it means. You pledged yourself to me, remember.” I lifted my arms to inspect them, found nothing out of place, then reached down toward my crotch. “No, there are no tattoos, and nothing fastened below either. No missing body parts. Nothing buckled, embossed, inscribed, punctured, or pierced. What you are wearing is implanted; it has now become part of you. It was made for me to give to you. Over time, they will become what you desire as well. Understood?” I nodded. She left, closing the door gently. I lay there for a moment to gather my wits before rolling over to climb out of bed. I noticed I was wearing one of her frilly nighties with puffed sleeves. She owned several, though she mostly slept in oversized T-shirts. Were my own pajamas all in the wash? This nightgown must have been left behind from some feminization game we played while I was knocked out, I guessed. My arms were hairless and absolutely smooth! My legs felt that way too! Well, I hoped she had enjoyed the game! I felt a pang of regret that it might already be over. Still leaning on one elbow and propped up, I felt a sort of pulling sensation in my torso, as if something were hanging from me. A fold in the nightgown? No. The flesh spread out across my chest while I lay on my back was now hanging down heavily in the form of two large pouches tipped with nipples; the nipples were distended and brushing against the bedsheet. Breasts. They were real breasts. My breasts! Large ones! Two of them! I stared in disbelief, abruptly throwing my legs over the side of the bed to sit up. Then I just sat there! With my shoulders slumped forward they sagged, though my skin was firm enough to support their weight. Through the neckline of Kate’s nightgown I could see their curves—they were soft, hanging breasts! I pulled my shoulders back, and they became ripe, rounded globes jutting away from me; their areolas and nipples resembled small brown teacups projecting outward. I reached out hefted one. Heavy! My fingers touched one of the nipples and a delicious tingle shot through me, spreading down to my crotch. I touched the other nipple. The same sensation! O God, it felt so good! But I was still a man! These were distinctly woman’s breasts! This wasn’t just another fantasy of mine! Perhaps one of Kate’s fantasies? Well yes, having breasts had been one of my dreams, but not in reality! Kate wasn’t playing for the weekend only! Had she tried to warn me about that? She had! These were indeed the badges of my servitude. Kate meant to disintegrate my manhood and truly change me into a female. So it seemed. She’d said as much; I vaguely recalled it. And I had been so eager to submit to her! Now, in broad daylight, it didn’t seem quite such a good idea after all. I glanced down further, feeling momentarily reassured that my cock and balls were still present. I picked up each breast with both hands and then let them drop. They jounced once before settling into place. Implants. Huge. Part of me now. They were certainly there. But they weren’t mine; I belonged to them. And they belonged to Kate. She wanted me to care for them on her behalf. I held each in my hands again, more gently this time, and stroked their nipples with my thumbs. A most delectable feeling rose up in my groin—deep, sultry, luscious, as erotic as if my penis were being squeezed and caressed. Yet it remained soft. I just sat there, caressing my new self with my thumbs. It felt wonderful! After a while, no longer quite so shaken from when I first sat up, I looked across the room. There on a chair within easy reach lay a luminous blue satin dressing gown in a brighter shade than Kate usually wore, alongside a large, heavy-duty bra. Then, as if to balance out the utilitarian massiveness of the bra, came a teeny pair of delicate rose lace hi-leg panties. And a note. I sat back on the bed and opened the note. Kate was going all out—the paper itself was perfumed with that floral scent
I recalled that from before she started working at the clinic: it was what she still wore when we went out to fancy places. I inhaled its scent, opened the note, and read:
“My Darling Annie, or if Andy is reading this, my poor confused Andy. First, I want to remind you, whoever you are, that you belong to me, not just yourself. You gave yourself to me knowing that I meant to do things you might dislike, even though a desire for some of them was likely already deep in your psyche. I think you understand now what I plan. I intend to make a woman out of you. A genuine one, not the simpering transvestite version you probably would have become on your own without me, and not a Drag Queen either. But also, not the kind of woman you’d be if you had been born female and raised in similar conditions to those you enjoyed as a boy—not a restrained, educated professional lady. Not even like me; I am more venturesome than you are, more decisive.
“Prepare yourself, darling. I want you to become my type of woman—the one I’d love spending time with, dating out with, and making love to. And dating men with. The kind that excites me in ways a man never did for me. Impulsive. Playful, even silly at times. Instinctive and generous, warm-hearted. Physical in many ways, mostly feminine—tender and demonstrative when affectionate (which will be often), and sexy when you feel the urge for that kind of pleasure, also frequently. Not too reserved. In fact, a bit smutty about your pleasures. The sort of girl men are happy to discover they’ve been matched with on a blind date because she is attractive at first glance. Men who remember her the next day smiling. And don’t be shocked, dear. She’s the kind of girl women also remember fondly. The kind I have always wanted to recall with smiles.
“If that isn’t you now—and I know it isn’t—then that will become you. You are mine. I’ve always desired a girlfriend like this, so that is what you will turn into. You’ll try with all your heart and soul to become her. I am sure you will. You have no other future.
“When you succeed, when you enjoy being that sort of girl, then you can be my friend as well as my servant, and we shall cherish that bond too. You are already married to me, as you know. Perhaps then I may choose to marry you formally. But only after you have succeeded. We’ll see.
“Love, Ms. Katherine P.S. Before you lie the first piece of intimate apparel in this style for which you will wear them for life: your first bra and panties. Congratulations, sweetheart. Also a rather spirited gown, the kind Annie will soon adore as the truest expression of her lively spirit. I apologize if the bra resembles one worn by a washerwoman; but your breasts—your pledge of servitude to me—require that sort of support right now. I’ve tried to compensate by giving you panties worthy even of a whore’s blush. Put them all on, splash some of my cologne over yourself too, and add matching shoes from my closet. While waiting for my return, begin browsing through the women’s magazines I have collected downstairs, including the advertisements. They belong to your kind now. They will occupy your mind entirely henceforth.”
With my nightie off, I saw Kate kept her promise; the only stray hair on my body was neatly trimmed around my pubes—the rest was smooth. I dressed as Ms. Katherine instructed. The bra felt heavy on my shoulders until I realized the weight came from my hanging breasts, which lightened when I remembered to stand upright. But then they stuck out too far forward. Even a loose sports jacket might struggle to cover them, let alone a tailored suit coat. How would I manage going to work? Carrying that weight on my shoulders or making endless explanations? The panties were indeed tiny, designed to curve beneath the contour of my belly and across the roundness of my backside. I didn’t yet have womanly, sexy-rounded buttocks, but I knew they would come—either through hormones or more implants. Kate would ensure it.
I inspected myself in the mirror and saw a man with long straight hair—which is how I preferred it—wearing a large bra and skimpy panties. His breasts were nicely proportioned for his somewhat broad shoulders. The breasts would swell even more as the hormones took effect, I realized, undoubtedly part of Kate’s plan to make me look like a sex symbol at first glance. My waist was slightly thick—I should diet. Then I realized that sounded like something a girl would think; Kate’s scheme was getting under my skin. Hips were narrow, but that is true for some women too, I knew. There was still a big bulge in the panties so far—thank God! Could I become the sort of girl Kate wanted? Possibly, with dieting and the right makeup and gear. And temperament. It could be fun. My face had small features, and I possessed an unassertive chin that I’d always regretted. Now it looked dainty in the mirror. Or might become so. Did I want to become Kate’s kind of girl? Was there a choice?
I swayed my hips at the reflection and immediately felt foolish, even indecent. So I pulled out a full-figured blouse and a wide skirt from Kate’s closet almost without looking, and put them on. The hem of the skirt brushed my calves delicately. The blouse was short-sleeved and made of nylon or something similar; when I slipped the satin dressing gown over it, everything felt incredibly slippery all over, like wearing liquid water. Another glance in the mirror showed that its bright iridescent blue seemed to illuminate the room. That’s me—the life of the party—I thought ruefully—and went down to the living room.
There, I picked up a copy of “Cosmopolitan.” I noticed immediately that my breasts were already larger than most women photographed in that magazine, even the featured model. I began reading an article on how to keep him interested enough to ask you out again. Some advice was excellent—ask him about himself and admire his accomplishments—I wished girls did this for me. And hoped they had done so before. Now it seemed expected of me. But a pang of panic hit my midriff! With guys? No, I wouldn’t! I belonged to Kate!
Some advice was practical: “If he seems excited by your company, help sustain that excitement by caressing him in sensitive areas. You can determine quickly enough if his size meets your needs. And being kissed by a smooth, wet, deep mouth is sure to delight him!”
Now I shuddered. Kiss a man? Did Kate mean literally? Before this was over, did she want me satisfying men with hand jobs? Worse still, blow jobs? Real ones on real men, not idle fantasies? Swallowing actual cum? “Smutty” was what my Mistress desired, and she would ensure I became so! Even more, as a woman, would I need to allow men—though I tried to picture it and couldn’t quite manage without feeling queasy—to enter me?
And pump me full of seed? And ejaculate inside me? Deep within? Oh dear! That was almost too much. There had to be an escape! This was just a game, a scene we were playing out, and I was taking it far too seriously! Then I realized I lacked a safe word. Kate had begun with injected hormones and breast implants so the road back would be harder than going forward; thus, I would go along with whatever she wanted, like it or not, and learn to enjoy it. I was already halfway there where she intended me to be: dressed as a courtesan and studying up on how to get laid.
I decided to read the ads instead of all the distressing headlines about “How to Get Real Hunky Men to Fuck You Senseless.” There were hundreds of advertisements for makeup! Eyeliner, shadow, pencils, and mascara in varying shades each held their own mystery; as I realized after studying page upon page of superbly blended eyes on gorgeous models, how those powders, brushes, and pencils could create the mysterious seductiveness of those eyes was beyond any male comprehension. I’d nev
Oh, I see how to use them now! Even so, I had to keep Kate happy until I could talk her out of her plan for me—or rather, get her to let the old plan stand and marry me anyway. That seemed my only real option. Applied Lipstick felt like a skill I could master on my own. After reading an article about the latest shades, I worked out how to use lip liners and shape the upper lip properly. Then I went back to our bedroom and put on a dark maroon color. It was meant to show Kate that I was making an effort. When I looked in the mirror next, I saw a man in a bright blue satin gown with lipstick on his lips. And it looked neat enough. I headed downstairs again, still reading, wondering why my resentment wasn’t building up as much as expected. Was I truly being soft? Look at what she’d done to me! Did I actually want this? I suspected there were more tranquilizers in my system than I realized. A few hours later, Kate came back. I was sitting at the computer when she arrived; initially, I had been seeking advice from regarding makeup and how to handle my new situation, but now I was looking through different emailed reactions to the report I’d submitted. It became clear that I needed to go into the office to speak with some colleagues. “Looking for some new games to play, Annie?” she asked when she noticed me staring at the screen. “Remember you’re my plaything now, and I decide all our games. Whenever you forget that fact, just fold your arms across your chest as a reminder.” “No, this is business,” I said somewhat gloomily. “I have to speak with some people downtown. Tomorrow.” I turned around to face her. I was in no mood for playing now, though I realized that as a servant, perhaps I had spoken too boldly. “Ms. Katherine, Ma’am?” There was a hint of sarcasm in my voice. “Must I kowtow to you constantly from now on? Can’t we just talk?” She didn’t seem bothered by the question. “Certainly, when others are around, Andy honey. Then we can converse as we always have. Of course, you will always agree with everything I say, and I look forward to hearing your reasons for agreeing with some of my statements. I might occasionally make outrageous claims just to keep you in check. At first, you’ll agree however you can, but once you become the woman I want, I’m sure your agreement will be sincere.” “When we are alone it will always be different. I expect you to remember our respective places and address me accordingly. This is a process, a journey, and we have only just begun. When you finally reach where I intend to take you—when you become the girl I want—you might find us talking as equals sometimes. By then, perhaps you’ll be so pleased with yourself that you will thank me. Are you resenting me slightly right now?” I hesitated. “Yes, Ms. Katherine” was all I managed. She looked at me for a moment. “I appreciate your honesty. And also your effort to please me by wearing lipstick. You did well there for your first time. The shade is perhaps a bit too maroon compared to the color of your robe, but you will learn about such things.” She smiled. “That is the favorite shade of a girl I dated last year in college. I loved seeing her lips that color while they tugged on my nipples and nibbled on my clit. I’ll enjoy seeing yours like that as well. If you really like it, we’ll build your outfits around this hue, honey. It remains fashionable.” Kate was a lesbian when she was in college? No, probably experimental, bisexual. And now me too? Then Kate added more commentary. “That is a pretty blouse you chose, even though I didn’t ask you to. I am glad you like it. It belongs to you now, and I think that is what you will wear when you go to your office tomorrow for meetings. Just a touch of lace on the ends of the collar, and it billows beautifully, so no one needs to know about your new breasts. They are ‘C’ cups now, incidentally. Your hormones will soon make them at least one size larger—still quite stunning, really a knockout, though we certainly don’t want to overdo anything.” She waited. “Yes, Ms. Katherine,” I replied. What else was there to say? Were the humiliations beginning? Was she punishing me for my lack of enthusiasm earlier by turning me into her slut girlfriend? What other plans did she have for me? “When you go in for your conference, select a nice gold chain for a necklace and wear that too, tucked under the collar so no one can miss seeing the lace. I don’t care how you explain the blouse and chain if anyone asks, but I think afterward you will feel more grateful to me for what I am doing. Remember, you agreed to all of this wholeheartedly and repeatedly. And I noticed when we were prepping you for your breast implants that you sealed your agreement with an orgasm on your own!” I swallowed hard. “Yes, Ms. Katherine,” I said much more sincerely. She waved her hand as if gratitude wasn’t necessary. “Don’t worry about what people think. If you feel like it, flash your tits at anyone who mocks you. Those breasts are already real conversation-stoppers, believe me. Some women would kill for a figure like the one you will have. Finish up the project you’re working on, and then give your two-weeks notice, telling them you are taking those two weeks as accrued sick leave. I need to change you utterly, Annie, and I cannot do that if you spend all your days in some cubicle worrying about people who have nothing better to do than insult you for obeying me.” “Yes, Ma’am.” “That is better. You should know that one more insolent innuendo in your response would have sent you to work tomorrow wearing a skirt as well. Any questions?” “Yes, Ma’am. How will we manage without my salary?” “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that, Andy honey,” she said. “Perhaps you’ll work for me at the Clinic. We need to make our records more accessible. You can do that for us. Maybe later on I’ll get you to turn tricks—it would help you develop the right kind of sluttish personality. Which reminds me, we need to make your pretty little head look its best as soon as possible so you can begin being a girl in public immediately without disgracing either of us. Learn by doing! So day after tomorrow, we will get you a new hairstyle and makeover.”