Letter to the Staff

“See, I told you,” she said. “Accept yourself for what you are, right now a man with big boobies, and later a woman with generous boobies, and no one can reach you. So what are you?”

“Right now I’m a man with big boobies, Ma’am, and your property.”

“That’s right. My sissy girl property. I’m very pleased that you’re through working downtown. Those breasts aren’t a mere whim, they’re very important, they’re your passage into a new life. I mean for you to become a passable woman. It will take time and effort, on your part especially. But there will come a moment, you’ll see, when the sissy man disappears in your own mind and the girl of my dreams replaces him. That’s where I want us to end up. When I saw you playing girlie-girlie fantasies at that computer, lots of things fell into place for me. You’re going to become a girl very soon. Now listen closely, Annie. Do you want to become a girl as soon as possible?”

“Yes, Ms. Katherine,” I said. I realized that wasn’t enough of a response. But I wasn’t really persuaded. And I had one serious reservation. “Ms. Katherine, may I ask you a question?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Ms. Katherine, when I’m a girl, will I still have my…my…male parts?” I was afraid to name them, for fear she’d suddenly be reminded I wasn’t already gelded, pick up the phone, and order up a castration and penectomy to go.

She just smiled. “You poor dear. That’s the last vestige of masculinity a man reaches for, isn’t it. Well, your female hormones will soon render them useless, but you can keep them as long as you want them. I suspect there will come a time when you’ll prefer a cunt, if only because by then you’ll like being attractive to men, and men adore cunts. When that happens we’ll have your “male parts” as you call them turned inside out into a cunt. It’s done all the time these days. Does that ease your mind?”

“Yes, Ms. Katherine.”

“Learn your girlhood lessons well, and I’ll let you masturbate a little, while that thing still provides you pleasure. On rare occasions, when you accomplish something I find impressive, I may even allow you to masturbate until you cum. But your main sexual pleasure from now for a while to come will be from your new nipples– caress them all you want, whenever you wish. It’ll help you appreciate them. Enjoy your femininity! And right now, Annie, it’s time for you to enjoy mine. Here!”

She pulled back her robe, and I saw that she was wearing nothing underneath. I saw the furry triangle of her crotch, and her slit. and her creamy white thighs.

“I promised you could kiss my naked pussy. Now you shall. It’s exactly the same way it was when I brought it home from work a few days ago, a little sweaty, a little pissy, maybe even a little lubricated too, because feminizing you excites me. Is some man’s cum in there too? You don’t know, do you? Well, you’ll just have to work it out on your own.” She smiled to herself and went on, “With your tongue. Come here and lick me now, Annie. This will be a regular reward for you whenever I come home, as long as you do your other work well.”

She shifted her hips slightly and dropped one leg to the floor, then raised the other high onto the back of the couch. There it was! Her pink slit was now perched on the edge of the couch, wide open. I fell to my knees and again buried my face in her crotch, this time slathering my nose into its musky, fermy, sour center, and I began to lick her. She tasted slightly acrid, but sweet, and salty, and fishy, and creamy, and — she was the woman I had sworn to serve with all of the manhood in me, and now all of the femininity too, and I began to lick and suck and tongue and kiss her more passionately! Was there a love potion in that twat? Really some man’s cum? I didn’t know! It was divine! I loved her! My tongue probed way down and became a prehensile snake. I buried it in her and started to tongue-fuck her.

Almost immediately she started to moan. I ran the tip of my tongue up one edge of her slot and down the other, then up onto her clit, and again into the center line where there lurked, I knew, a deep and mysterious hole fit to entertain a small man’s five inch prick or a large man’s fist and wrist. Then I moved back to her lit again, where I loitered and licked and loitered and labored. She moaned louder, and shook, and screamed, then began to make strange animal sounding growls, and then screamed again. No woman’s cunny was ever cleaned more thoroughly or enjoyably.

When I lifted my soaked face I felt proud. “Very good, Annie honey,” she said, still breathing hard. “I knew it! You will make the sweetest girl anyone can imagine. Next time would you wear that dark lipstick for me? Now fix me dinner.”

I did that too. It was easy. I was in love again. Before I sat down to eat with her, I tried to make my whole face up like a woman’s, as a gift to my precious, my darling Ms. Katherine. I failed, but she looked at it and smiled, and said nothing. That night we slept in the same bed, and in the early morning when she was returning from a visit to the john and the moisture of her piss was on her like rank dew, I kissed and licked her crotch to yet another orgasmic spasm. My own prick was pulsing fit to explode the whole time, but she wanted me to hold back, she said, so she could redirect my sexual energy. Toward who? Toward what? I maintained iron control, and nothing came of it.