Perfect Holiday

Perfect Holiday

by: christine

When we boarded the plane, everything looked like I was going on the holiday of my dreams – and I was – although it was a holiday I had never dared to dream of. Sitting next to me on the plane was Julie, my lovely girlfriend. She is quite tall and not what you would call a full figure, she has rather small tits, a slim figure and long legs. She never dresses “sexy” like us men would like the girls to but she sure turnes some heads when we go out. So, after a long time of both of us working in our jobs we were finally off to our hard-earned vacation in the sun.

When we finally got off the plane after ten hours of a daytime flight, we got stuck at the baggage-claim. Her suitcase – always twice the size of mine, got out right away but we waited for mine till the moving band stopped.

“So” I said. “I guess that’s it. We gotta talk to lost and found.” And we did that, went through the charts and I described my aluminum suitcase, its contents and sure, I had my nametag on it all right. We grabbed a cab after spending two hours at the airport and arrived at the hotel all wasted and smelling like a person who has just spent an entire day in his clothes. You know what your clothes are like after a flight like this. The receptionist didn’t care, I guess she was used to this. I left a note that should my luggage arrive I wanted to be notified immediately.

The room was finally a break. A great bed, a spacious bathroom with a separate restroom and a nice balcony with an oceanview. While I was checking out the remote and buzzed through the channels, Julie hopped into the shower. After twenty minutes she got out and kissed me. “Oh Dear” she said, “you could use a shower, too!” – “Yeah, I know” I answered. She started to drag some fresh clothes out of her suitcase. A thong, a tanktop and an ankle-long skirt. “Problem is, I wont have anything to wear after the shower.” – “Don’t worry, sweetie, your suitcase can be over here any minute.”

So I went into the shower. There was the reason for her twenty-minute-shower, her lady’s razor. She always got carried away shaving her legs and yes, her clit. She always spared plenty of hair on top of it but started to shave her labia a while ago. I suggested it, because I love to eat her out and she loves it too and she agreed that her hair doesn’t really help the licking and sucking. I had asked her to shave me once, and she did, but she didn’t like the feel of my “sparks” as she would like to call the short hair growing back rubbing on her clit. But for me it was quite a sensation to see my naked cock and feel my soft skin touch her clit. Anyways, I sometimes used her razor to shave around my balls and my “bikini-line” as they call it in the women’s mags. And so I did now, making sure I could quickly put the razor away, in case she’d come in. Even more difficult was avoiding a hard-on from shaving, but after years of practice I could do without. And she didn’t come in. I got out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my waist. My clothes, which had been spread out on the bed, were gone. “Julie, where’d you put my clothes?” – “I had the laundry guy come and pick them up.” – “But what am I gonna wear for dinner?” – “Don’t worry honey, dinner won’t be before eight and the laundry guy said he’ll be back at 7.30.” – “Okay, but….” – “Don’t be silly honey, you couldn’t have worn this for dinner!” And she was right, again.

“Come on over honey, I have something in mind that doesn’t require any clothes” she added. And she lay me down on bed, on my back and climbed on top of me, undressing herself. She started rubbing her chest at mine and took off my towel. “C’mon baby, caress my little pussy, make it moist and lick me off, won’t you?” I didn’t need any further asking. I used my fingers on her labia and boy it felt good to touch that freshly shaved pussy. I turned her around and buried my head between her legs. I licked and sucked and swallowed all I could. I love the taste I love the sensation I love just to please HER. And what better way to do that than licking her into a frenzy. After a while she rolled back on top of me and started rubbing her clit on my dick and balls while pressing them on my belly. She usually drives me really crazy doing this and she knows it. She only doesn’t know, why, I always thought. I love being her “toy” and getting her off without fucking her, i.e. me entering her sacred pussy. Finally, I’m allowed to enter her. She rolls over, grabs my penis and my balls with one hand and drags my manhood into her, gives it a few strokes and I can’t help to come right away. The feeling of her being in control of my dick, fucking herself with it like a dildo turns me on so much, I can never hold my juices for long. And she knows that for sure. But I thought that she loves it when I get off and that’s why she does it – not cause she knows what I’m feeling and thinking, while she’s doing it to me.

I roll over to my back and slide out off her pussy. I would love to lick her clean now, but I just don’t dare to mention these things. She gets up, takes another shower, and gets dressed, while I also showered again.

It was close to 7:30 and I was still hanging around our hotel room with a towel around my thighs with my girlfriend dressed up and made up for dinner. “Hon, when’d you say the laundry will come?” – “Seven thirty, but you can call housekeeping to make sure. Dial 6 or 7.” I called and received some exciting news. Sure, they said, laundry will be there at 7:30, tomorrow morning that is! I stuttered something like “Sure thanks!” and was perplexed for the moment. “Anything wrong, honey?” I burst out laughing. “My clothes won’t be here before 7:30 tomorrow morning.” Julie started giggling. “Looks like I’m gonna call roomservice and have dinner here.” – “O no darling, you just can’t do that.” – “But Julie, I…” – “Tonight’s the receptioning dinner and you know that, too. There’s a special six-course dinner and I want to start enjoying my vacation as it is with you starting right now.” – “But Julie, there’s no…” – “Don’t be silly, darling, I’m sure we can find something for you to wear in my suitcase. It’s not like I only brought a miniskirt.” She was very insisting and I know there was no use in trying to start an argument over this. She’d burst into tears in no time and we’d have a relationship from hell for two straight days.

“Okay honey I’ll try and do it for you. Let’s see what you got for me.” Julie quickly started to look through her suitcase and produced a number of clothes for me to try on. It was not silk and laces but it all had some distinct feminine touch to it. First she inspected her assortment of panties and ended up handing me two to choose from: A white silk french knicker “loose fit!” she commented, and a pink plain cotton slip with floral ornaments and a cotton-coated button on the front “the regular one”. Then she handed me loose khaki pants with sort of like a ribbon to tie them up at the waist. “I’m sure you’ll manage to get into them!” And her denim pants. “But you probably won’t be able to slip into them.” Next came a loose shortsleeve white linen blouse and a grey blouse with a trimmed waist cut. “Hurry up honey, try it all on, we don’t want to be late for dinner.” I had all the clothes piled up on my arms. I started to head towards the bathroom, I was too embarrassed to change in front of her. “Where are you going, darling. I want to see how it looks on you.” I started to feel a little tension building up against the towel wrapped around my thighs. I couldn’t help feeling a little aroused. Just like I use to, when I’m shaving. But I know how to handle this. Just think of something completely different, something about my job. And it did the trick! I quickly slid on the pink cotton slip – and there it was again. Uncontrollable this time. My dick started pounding and swelling. And this panty slip was so little, it would hardly contain my cock and balls anyways. I turned away from Julie in embarrassment. “Turn around, I want to see you!” I did as she told me. Why?

“C’mon baby, are you getting a little horny, didn’t you have enough fun earlier?” I couldn’t answer. “Try on the knickers on top of the slip!” – “Julie, I…” – “Shhhhh, c’mon, you’ll have even more fun when you wear ’em both.” What was she talking about? Fun? Did she know about my deepest and most ridiculous desires? That I started putting on mummies pants when I was ten or twelve and that I had put hers on every once in a while. That I even owned two black lacy panties and a camisole myself?

I put on the knickers and it felt wonderful. The silk that would have flown freely around her legs was snugly around mine. But even more wonderful was the feel of me wearing her panties right before her eyes.

“Now put on the khaki pants, darling and that white blouse. You can’t wear the other stuff anyways, it’s too tight.” I did as I was told. The khaki pants had a very low waistline and the top of the knickers was almost showing a little. It also created a very feminine look to my butt. The blouse…I started fumbling around with the buttons, but they work the other way around. Julie stepped up to me and helped me.

“Now let’s see, what my darling looks like in his girlfriends clothes.” She turned me around before the big mirror inside the cabinet. It was horrible. I looked like a man wearing his girlfriend’s clothes. And the sharp curve of the khaki-pant’s seamline showed a distinctive bulge where nothing’s supposed to be there. “Now if you can control your little weenie a little bit, we’ll be all set for dinner. No wait, something’s missing!” Julie dashed into the bathroom, rushed back out and before I could notice, she pumped two big loads of her daytime cologne on me. It wasn’t the heavy feminine evening scent that she was wearing right now, but it sure was a sweet sporty women’s note. “Julie!” I started to protest. “There you go! She completely ignored me. “Put on your silly sneakers and off to dinner.” My sneakers. At least one token of my manhood.

I couldn’t speak a word in the elevator. The dinner room was dimly lit for the special occasion with candles burning on the tables. What a relief! I was hoping for a quick low-profile way to our table. The blouse wasn’t too bad, when I was sitting down. But fate had other plans for me. We had to stand in line to be seated, register on the desk as new guests. Then the hotel manager handed us a welcome drink. Julie started a little chat-chat with him. I felt a thousand eyes piercing me. “Julie, let’s go to our table.” I mumbled to her. No reaction. After three or four minutes of standing around which seemed like two hours to me, a female host approached us and offered to escort us to our table. She looked me up and down and smiled her biggest smile.

Once we were seated I started to relax a little. But Julie wouldn’t give me a break. She took off one shoe under the table and started to rub her foot on my crotch. “Darling, this is so sweet of you! It’s so nice to spend this evening in such lovely company. Just look at you! Everyone adores you!” As I looked around I wasn’t sure what everyone was having a good time about, but I couldn’t rule out that they were mocking themselves at me.

The only thing that kept me alive at that point was that my luggage should really be arriving any time from now. My laundry would be back tomorrow morning and that would save my day. And I could also shop for some new clothes. Dinner started and it sure was great. We had some excellent wine and I started to relax under the influence of the booze. So finally, we skipped desert and I didn’t mind stepping out the hotel and going on a little walk in the park. Julie reached under my blouse and started to rub my nipples. “Honey, I now what you’re up to and I can’t wait to get back in our room.” – “Yes Julie, neither can I.”

As soon as we got into the room, I started to undress. The blouse, the pants, the knickers. Julie’s hand stopped me there. She sat me down on the bed. “Wait Honey, not too quickly. Let’s enjoy this a little longer. Strip to the cotton panties and wait here, I’ll be back.” She disappeared in the bathroom. I was sitting on the bed feeling silly and confused. What else did she have in mind? She returned with a matching bra, stockings and makeup. “Put that on!” I wanted to protest but she kissed me on my mouth before I could say anything. “Please Honey, you look so adorable.” She quickly painted my lips, lashed my eyebrows and laces. I got into the bra and the stockings. Again, she led me to the mirror. She fumbled some stockings out of her suitcase and stuffed the bra. “Perfect, Baby, now you have permission to suck my freshly shaved dripping cunt.” I sighed and started working my way down, kneeing in front of her. After a while we reached the point where she would have usually started to work on my penis. Not this time. She pulled down the pink panties, took my hand, led it to my penis and wrapped it around it. “Now jack yourself off, Darling. Do it!” I couldn’t believe it. She held her pussy inches away from my hard dick. I was constantly trying to touch her with the tip of my cock, but she always retreated. She was teasing the hell out of me. When I finally came, she soaked all my juice up with the pink slip. “Good girl,” she said after a while. And that got me so excited that I wanted to get into her right away. “Easy, easy, Darling, go clean yourself up and come back to bed. I put something for you to wear on the rod on the bathroomdoor.

I undressed and showered in complete darkness, I was just too embarrassed to look at me. I toweled me dry and reached for the door. I put on whatever hung there. A long tanktop-thing. I opened the door and Julie was stretched out on the bed watching TV. “Snuggle up sweetie. You look so cute I just love the thought that you’re mine.” I looked down on myself. I was wearing a nightgown! I quickly got under the comforter. I was ready to pass out. Julie kissed me good-night and turned off the lights. I was asleep in no time.

The next morning I woke up to Julie talking on the phone. She was ordering breakfast through room-service. I started to recall what had happened yesterday and hoped that this was the beginning of a day back to normal. Breakfast in bed! “Morning, Honey,” I said and kissed Julie. She kissed me and I dozed off again. I finally woke up startled a few minutes later. Someone was knocking on the door and yelling “Hello, room-service!” I could hear the shower running. Guess I’ll have to get it. I jumped out of bed, opended the door. A cute young woman was waiting with a roll-in tray stacked with breakfast. She looked at me, smiled, curtsied and ran off. I hesitated a moment only to realize that I was still wearing a woman’s nightgown. I rolled the tray in quickly, when Julie stepped out of the bathroom. “Hi Darling, I see you got that door.” – “Julie, I was still wearing these!” I blushed. “It’s all right, don’t worry darling, we’ll get something more appropriate for you soon. Now let’s have breakfast!”

After breakfast Julie suggested going to the pool. I didn’t even have to say anything. “Now don’t give me that look, darling. What’s the difference between wearing trunks and this?” She handed me swimsuit. “All my bikini pants are thongs, but you can roll the top down like this, look honey.” I put on the swimsuit and rolled the top down. She rolled it back up. “Much nicer this way, but hey – you decide, okay? And you can put on this one when this one’s wet.” She handed me a rather fluffy pink one-piece. “Just kidding, okay.” I rolled the swimsuit back down and we went off to the pool. On the pool I was handed a portable phone with the airline on the other end. No trace of my luggage. They’d keep me posted, but I should better look into buying something new sooner or later. I checked with the porter for my laundry and was told that it would be taken to my room. We took a little dip in the pool and Julie swam up to me. “Roll that piece up or do you want to end up naked?” So I swam around a while – wearing my girlfriends swimsuit. I was just a little too tall for it. “We have to go shopping this afternoon. You can’t go on ruining my stuff, can you?” Back in our room, I opened my laundry wrapped in paper. Only that it wasn’t mine. O my god, is this ever gonna end? “Honey, don’t worry, you can wear what you wore last night one last time, we go out shopping and when we get back you’re all dressed up like never before!” I didn’t bother the khaki pants and the blouse anymore, as long as it would buy me some clothes.

When Julia was apllying her make-up to get ready she was kidding me “Wanna try some lipstick, too?” I blushed. “Of course not!” – “Well why not, honey? Looks good on me, don’t you? C’mon, gimme a kiss.” She kissed me real hard on my lips and there I was with lipstick all over it. “And don’t you dare to wipe it off!”

We headed down to the shopping district in a cab, me trying to hide from the cabbie. Our first stop was a drug store – nowhere to buy stuff for me. Julie got three cans of something I couldn’t figure out what it was, some lipstick and tampons. She also got some fancy fake jewellery like ear-clips, slutty stuff that wasn’t her style. But I wasn’t gonna argue about that, I was only waiting for her to leave the shop so that we could finally buy me some stuff. Next stop was – a lingerie store. Okay, okay, I had to relax, I love it when Julie wears lingerie anyways. She had me sit on a couch in the front of the store and started buzzing through the store with the salesperson. The two of them had quite a good time, giggling and bursting with laughter at times. Julia came from the cashier with three stuffed bags.

Back on the street Julia smiled her biggest smile at me: “Just one more stop, honey, and we’re all set. Only this time, I’ll really need your help.” We entered a large department store and Julia headed straight to a fiftysomething salesperson in the women’s apparel department. “We’re here to see Ms Clark.” – “Oh, that’s me. And this must be the customer.” She gave me a friendly nod. “Please follow along.” I was taken into the changing section, to a somewhat remote cabin. “Julia, what’s this supposed to be?” – “Oh shut up now darling. Take off my clothes!” I did as I was told. Julia snapped them immediately. “Here, put on this bra and panties. They’re your size!” – “But, Julia!” – “No more need to ruin my panties and put ugly stains in them, darling. From now on, you’ll were your own panties. And nothing but panties, believe me. And before you start arguing: We’re in a foreign country, you’re standing in a female changing room of a department store, wearing nothing but my lingerie. If you don’t do as I tell you, you’ll be in jail in five minutes. And they would love to meet a sissy like you, believe me!” I couldn’t breathe. For a second, my world stopped turning. “Hello? Are you still with me?” – “Ah sure, darling…”

So I put on the bra and panties and yes, they were my size, except that I couldn’t even fill the A-cup brasserie and the panties turned out to be an extra-tiny g-sting. “Hurry up, or do you want the salesperson to see your ridiculously small weenie?”

I yanked my two inches into the thong and along came the salesperson. “Hi, I’m Ms Clark and you are…?” – “Christine,”, Julia quickly answered. Name’s Christine.” – “Okay Christine, now let’s see what we have here. I have prepared an assortment of different things for different occasions: Leisure, activities, evening, formal. I’ve decided to go for a rather plain young style, if you want it to be more classically feminine, just let me know.”

To be continued…

Elective Surgery

Elective Surgery

I awoke slowly, which should have been my first clue something was wrong. Normally, when my eyelids roll up, I’m ready for my day. In addition to being groggy, I discovered I could only move at a sloth’s pace, and that I felt tremendously weak. Lifting my head was beyond my abilities. Moving my feet an inch took immense effort. In addition, I wasn’t in our second floor bedroom, but an examining room on the ground floor of Miriam’s clinic, covered by a starched sheet.

I was scared as hell, imagining I’d had a stroke or something equally ghastly, despite just having turned twenty- three. I recalled all too clearly what sudden illness was like from my childhood. I tried speech, and managed what sounded like a faint gargling noise. Miriam, my live-in lover, loomed into my line of sight, wearing a tender, bright smile, and green scrubs. A surgical mask hung around her graceful throat.

“Relax, my love.” She bent and kissed my slack lips.

“You’re fine. There’s nothing wrong. I took the liberty of giving you a shot a little while ago.” Since she was my physician as well as my mate, the injection itself wasn’t amiss, but the effects were.

She read my befuddlement, stroked my forehead.

“Remember our talk last weekend? Well, I decided to take you at your word.”

There wasn’t anything wrong with my mental faculties. I knew exactly what she was talking about. The subject of sexual fantasies had come up. I remembered the embarrassed, halting confession I’d never shared with anyone, ever. I especially remembered her passionate response and the half-crazed lovemaking which ensued. Once again we’d demonstrated how marvelously we meshed. Even our fantasies complemented one another.

“Murrgh?” Which was supposed to mean, “Take me at my word?”

I’d laughing accused Miriam of being a mind reader more than once during the year we’d known one another. She again proved her capacity for insight by nodding. “And, since part of your fantasy was being helpless to resist, I knocked you out and rolled you down here. Starting to make sense now?”

Too much so. “Nrgh.” I.e., “No!”

Her grin was filled with mischief. “Sorry, love. Too late.”

She showed me another syringe, moved it toward my arm.

“Nightie-night. See you real soon. I love you.”

I didn’t even feel the prick of the needle. An uncomfortable reddish-black darkness rose up to enfold me.

I didn’t feel well. My stomach was unsettled. I was light headed and had a pounding headache. My mouth tasted like it’d been swabbed out with alcohol. Worse yet, my head, arms and legs were restrained. It took a few thunderous heart beats to recall where I was and what I was doing there. My shout was hoarse, but at least it worked properly.

I heard a door open and close, was relieved when Miriam appeared. “Turn me loose.” It was as much plea as command.

“Not yet, hon. We’re through with stage one. It’s going even better than I imagined it would. We’ve got to let you come out from under the anesthesia before you move. Thirsty?” A glass equipped with a straw appeared. “Just a few little sips.”

“Stage one?” I wondered, suddenly aware of how tired I was.

“Yeah. Now get some rest. I’ll take you back upstairs.

I was still totally immobilized, but it was reassuring to be back in her bed. Our bed, that is. I’d moved in four months before, after letting her talk me into quitting my job. My freelance writing – something I’d been pining to do for years – was starting to generate some income and decrease the debt to Miriam I compulsively kept track of.

I felt vastly better. Enough so to be aware of how odd my body felt. I was afraid to guess what that meant. Hurriedly, before I had time to think, I called her name.

“Right here, darling.” Her soft, purring voice came from an invisible spot to my right. Hell, everything but a swath of ceiling was invisible. “I’ve been watching you sleep. I can’t believe it.”

I recognized that tone of voice. She was aroused. I had a real good idea what that meant. The damage was done. I felt a peculiar hollowness within me, anticipation mingled with anxiety. My body tried to grow an erection. There was an odd resistance down there. I wet my lips. They tasted like Miriam. My voice was much more quiet than usual. “I’m okay?”

“Oh, honey, much more than okay.”

“Can I see now?”

She approached me. The look in her eyes – unmitigated desire – eased my anxiety, amplified my arousal. “You’ve got to promise to keep your eyes closed.”

She waited until I agreed. The thirty-odd seconds it took for her to release my restraints were the longest in my life. I was still woozy and weak as she helped me to my feet. My eyes reflexively opened to aid my wounded sense of balance, but her hand was covering them. Smart lady, Miriam.

She positioned me. I was becoming aware of specifics, but when she dropped her hand, my blind, confused self- exploration died.

“Oh my God!” I whimpered.

Two women stood side by side. The brunette in the blue robe was Miriam. The other woman, a striking raven haired seductress, wore a lacy black teddy and seamed hose. Her large firm breasts lunged as she gasped a shocked breath. Her ruby lips and long-lashed eyes were wide with trauma. Her long red nails rose toward her lovely chest. The woman was me!

Miriam was saying something. I struggled to listen. ” . . . took the liberty of dressing you and making you up. I couldn’t wait to see you whole. Do you like it? Is it what you expected?”

My knees became rubber. My head spun. “What have you done to me?”

“Nothing that can’t be undone,” she said hurriedly. Her voice faded and echoed toward the end.

I was sitting on the edge of the bed. The first things I saw were the black stockings clinging to my legs.

“You fainted,” she said worriedly.

“How girlish,” I groaned.

“A joke!” she said with a smile of relief. “You must feel better.”

“I’m not sure what I feel,” I admitted, trying to organize scattered thoughts. “Uh, you were saying something about . . . uh . . . this not being permanent?”

“God, love! You don’t think I’d maim you!”

“No – but you’ve got to admit that I . . . that this looks pretty damned real.”

“Of course it does! It *is* real, as far as it goes. Breast implants and a couple of careful injections around your nipples. A little liposuction to slim your waist – and a tad of the tissue reinserted strategically around your hips. You’re exactly my size now, by the way. Except for your feet, of course. Other than the depilated body hair and plucked brows, I could have you back to your normal self in a day.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. I raised a delicate crimson winged hand to hesitantly touch a lock of long black hair. “How about this. It’s not a wig.”

“Nope. I wove add-on hair into yours after I colored it.”

I swallowed mightily, let my gaze drop to my biggest worry. I could feel my male organ, but was nonetheless mightily reassured by the sight of a nearly invisible flesh colored panty girdle clasping my center in a tight grip.

“I can’t believe you really did this to me. It was just a fantasy.”

Her smile was wolfish. She untied her robe, let it fall open, and slithered into bed with me. “Funny, but you don’t sound mad.”

“I’m still in shock.”

“I know the perfect medicine for that. Lay down and kiss me, you sexy bitch.”

She rolled atop me. Her breasts pushing against mine was the most wonderous thing I’d ever felt. And we kissed with even more passion than usual. When she broke the grinding embrace, I’d smeared her with lipstick.

She tasted it with a languid tongue, whispered, “I’ve always wanted to make love with another woman.” Her hand rubbed my girdle. “Especially one equipped with one of these.”

What an evening! Miriam was a madwoman. She freed me of my girdle, made me admire my astonishingly slim waist and full hips before inhaling my swollen penis in a single dive. I ecstatically made love to her fragrant pussy with my mouth until we both achieved stupendous orgasms. I got no rest, though.

“I’ve got to fuck those tits,” she gasped, pivoting, freeing my – *my* – brand new 35C breasts from their flimsy confinement. My enlarged nipples were proud and tall, and I watched, enraptured, as she positioned the left one between her thoroughly lubricated lower lips and fed the tip of my breast inside her. The sight and sensation were indescribable. I toyed with her sensitive back door and clit, careful of my overly long, sharp fingertips. She howled like a banshee and resumed her orgasm, riding my tit until she was wracked by an especially powerful throe and lurched off me.

She collapsed, ending up with her head on my flat stomach. Noting my reborn erection, she gently stroked and kissed it while I ran soothing fingers through her short brown hair. Our breath had barely returned to normal before her nursing on my member became more insistent.

“Cum in my cunt, baby,” she whined urgently. “Fuck me with that pretty clit.”

That was fine with me. I was still too weak to help much. She kept me supine, a position we both loved anyway because it allowed maximum penetration. What was different was the way I felt. Miriam massaged my tits. That, and my hands returning the favor, were inescapable reminders of the dire difference from the norm. It was easy to forget whose cock it was that was fucking whom.

The old, dark fantasy had become reality. I willingly lost myself in it. My orgasm bloomed like a glorious flower and swallowed me. I heard my cry of release begin. It continued, pulse by throb, until I lost consciousness.

I awoke early. The sun was barely above the horizon, and the bedroom was nearly dark. I was nude, the teddy and hose she’d dressed me in a tangled ball beside the bed. Miriam’s hand gently cupped my bare breast. I stared at the vision, waiting to awake from the bizarre hallucination. A growing need to urinate persuaded me that it was no wet dream. I carefully disentangled myself from her naked body and slowly rose to my feet. My breasts bobbed deliciously. My piss hard cock almost evoked a nervous laugh. It didn’t belong with the rest of my body.

I noted subtle changes that I’d been too stunned and drugged to absorb the day before. My center of balance was higher, and the rhythmic sway of my breasts altered it further still.

The tug of the weights on my chest was impossible to ignore. My long, tangled midnight hued hair tickled my shoulders and face.

And the mirror! Jesus! I thought I was ready as I flipped the bathroom light on and carefully raised my eyes. Instantly, I forgot what had been the urgent need to urinate. Nothing could have prepared me for that first clear, undrugged look at what I’d become.

My breasts were masterpieces, despite small aureolae. They loomed, large, soft, proud, and undeniable, compelling a complete reconstruction of my self identity. Even if I strapped them flat under my normal male clothing, I’d always be conscious of their existence. The sweeping concavity beneath them, and the graceful out swell of my hips were equally alien and remarkable. My jeans and slacks wouldn’t fit properly any more.

My rampant penis recalled me to urgent business. Standing seemed, well, pretentious. I felt myself blush as I sat and hid my organ between my legs. For the first time, I noted what Miriam had done to my pubic hair. It was trimmed into a tidy black triangle. Trust her to be thorough with the hair tint. My legs were sleek and hairless. As, I discovered with a hollow thrill, was my entire body below my eyelashes. Never hirsute, it was still a heady rush to have smooth underarms. I laughed softly – a suitably androgynous sound – when I saw she’d painted my toenails as well as fingertips. I wondered briefly, though; she herself rarely wore makeup at all, much less such bright nail enamel, yet she’d painted and dressed me like a temptress as I slept.

My business finished, I once again stood before the mirror. With a guilty glance toward the closed bedroom door, I tucked my penis between my sleek thighs. With that bit of evidence hidden, the illusion was complete. A pretty, though somewhat square featured, well shaped woman posed in the glass. Her hair was tangled from a night of passion. A surge of desire rushed through me. My shiver made my breasts shake. Never in a million years would I have given Miriam permission to do this to me, but I couldn’t deny my gratitude.

Even mundane tasks like brushing my hair and teeth were breathtaking adventures. The hair cascading past my shoulders was hypnotic. I couldn’t tear my eyes from the apparition in the mirror. I might have stayed in there all day had I not heard a noise from the bedroom.

I hurriedly opened the door. Miriam’s eyes were wide, as was her smile. Her gaze was pure caress. “Morning, darling. How do you feel?”

“Hungry,” I said, conscious that my voice sounded awfully male. “Like I haven’t eaten since day before yesterday.”

Her laugh was like wind chimes. “Then we’d better get you fed. No headache? No tenderness or inflammation?”

“No, Dr. Frankenstein. Your creation feels perfectly well.” I slid into bed beside her, tickled the underside of her breast with my nails.

“Umm,” she purred happily. “I’ve created a monster.” She playfully slapped my hand and rolled away. “But if we don’t get you fed, you’ll be too weak for me to, ah, examine you properly.

I turned coy. “And exactly what kind of examination do you have in mind?” I was slightly embarrassed by my feyness.

She went mock serious as she stood and donned her robe as she walked toward the closet. “Complex medical procedures, miss. No need to trouble you with gory details.” She pitched me a peach satin robe.

Suddenly self-conscious, I hid myself in it and followed her to the kitchen.

A light breakfast appeased my hunger. The passage of time appeased my sense of living within an alien body. Human beings are remarkably adaptable. While I was unable, for even an instant, to forget my appearance, I was quickly adjusting to the way it felt.

Miriam leaned back in her chair. “Well, love . . .” Her voice trailed away, her face clouded.

“What,” I interjected, worried. “Is something wrong?”

Her expression cleared. “Not a thing. I was just, ah, wondering what to call you.”

A name instantly leapt to mind. I thrust it away, merely nodded like I was thinking.

She eyed me skeptically. “I saw that. What?”

I couldn’t make myself look at her. “Nothing. Just mulling over the possibilities.”

“Horseshit. Tell me. No secrets, remember?”

Our cardinal rule for relationship. I couldn’t lie. “I, uh, just flashed on my sister.”

Her nod was somber, her gaze direct. “Barbara.” A heavy pause. Her tone was soothing, compassionate. “You still feel like it was your fault?”

“My head knows better, but sometimes, in my heart – yeah, I guess I do.”

“Well, then, Barbara it is, love. She’ll live again through you. Sounds like good therapy to me. Now,” she clapped her hands, “what would you like to do today, Barbara?”

I looked up at her teasing tone. “Do?”

“Yeah. It’s perfect weather for the beach. I’ve got an extra bikini -”

“No way! Jesus, are you nuts?”

“Yeah, but you knew that already. Are you saying you’re ashamed of your bodacious bod, hon?” She leaned forward, grabbed my hands. “You’ve got to go outside sooner or later.”

I tried to persuade myself that I didn’t want to. I tried to believe that I wanted this to be between she and I. But the impulse to smile made my lips twitch. “Too scary. I, uh, I’m not ready for that yet. I might have the body, but my mannerisms are all wrong. Will you kind of show me things?”

“As you wish, my monster. How about this? We spend the day getting you acclimated, then go out to dinner?”

I nodded hesitantly. “Okay – but I reserve the right to renegotiate. If there’s the slightest chance anybody will know -”

“Chicken out, you mean. Believe me, Barb, there’s only *one* way any one will be able to tell you haven’t been of the fair sex all your life.”

I blushed as red as my nails. She cackled with delight and drug me back to the bedroom. “Pick out some clothes, hon. I’m first in the shower.”

My how time flies when you’re having fun – and I was. It took very little persuasion from Miriam to get me to agree to staying dressed as a woman full time over the next two weeks. Beneath my silk and lace, my penis was at least half hard around the clock, unless I’d just had one of my half dozen daily orgasms. I felt like I was living in a sexual daze, and silently prayed it’d never end.

My fiancee had become as horny as I was, and the more flawless my feminization, the hotter it made her. She adored bending down and sucking the breasts she’d given me while we made impassioned love, and took an ever more dominant attitude in our relationship. When she proposed marriage, I tearfully accepted. We joked about who should give whom the engagement ring. The one thing we avoided even thinking about, after those first uncomfortable days, was changing me back. I told myself that this was only temporary, that soon the rush would be gone, and I’d go back under Miriam’s skilled blade. I set no time frame.

She showered me with lacy, racy gifts and took me shopping twice each week. Having been wrapped in and enraptured by my femininity, it became only slightly embarrassing to go out in public, and was less so each time. Miriam had trained me well, and I became unshakably certain that I could pass all but the wisest scrutiny. While out, I favored high necked blouses to obscure my mildly knobby male larynx, and had tutored myself thoroughly on the tricks of transgender cosmetic use. I walked, talked, ate, and sat exactly as a confident, attractive woman would.

Miriam hinted that she had something special in mind for that Friday, the anniversary of our second amazing fantasy week. Over her lunch break, I taunted her by dragging my nipples over hers.

“Please give me a hint, honey.”

“Barb, you little trollop,” she laughed.

I rubbed her groin. “Cheap and easy. Just the way you like them.”

Her eyes lost focus. I’d learned to play her well. Acting the tart for her never failed to push her lust button. I kept stroking her core with my long red nails while I coyly played with the top button of my blouse, opening it. “Look what I put on while you were working. It’s the merry widow you say makes my tits look like offerings to the goddess.” When she tried to grind her lips against mine, I leaned further away. “Give me a hint. Pretty please?”

She grabbed the hand working her clitoris through the white lab coat, twisted it around behind me, pushed my hand toward my shoulder blades. I squealed and stood on tip toe. Her mouth hovered so close to mine I could smell the candy of her breath. “Dress nasty for me, my little slut. Go all out. We’ll have a candlelit dinner catered. It’ll be a night we’ll never forget.”

She took my mouth then. I willingly parted my lips for her tongue and glued my body to hers. When she abruptly ended the embrace, leaving me breathless and weak-kneed, my teasing was done. Something about her aggressiveness always had that effect on me. Cooing docilely, I blotted my lipstick from her lovely face before she went back downstairs to perform the facelift on Mrs. Johnston.

For the rest of the day, my head swam. I spent hours getting ready for her, treating myself to a sensuous bubble bath after depilating my entire body – which was hardly necessary. I’d grown ever more enchanted with the sweet paradox of my nude body and spent a great deal of time pampering it. I’d always been a breast man, and having my own mammaries at hand was heavenly. My nipples had become tremendously sensitive, encouraged by being pinched, rolled and sucked so often – both by Miriam and myself. I’d happily discovered that my lips and teeth could reach them if I worked at it – which I did. We often lay head to foot and masturbated to crashing orgasms for each other. My penis had become *our* penis, a resource to be shared, although I’d begun feeling that it was really more hers than mine. When I played with myself, which I did with a frequency bordering on addiction, it was usually by squeezing and sucking my breasts rather than rubbing my cock.

I’d also begun developing what amounted to a secret fixation with my ass. The first time that Miriam had flicked her finger across my anl bud while we made love, I’d instantly arched into her and screamed as I came. It felt shameful to me to have had such an overwhelming erotic reaction in an area of my body I’d never let myself think of in sexual terms. So, while I never verbally shared this new development with my fiancee, I took every available opportunity to allow her access to my nether regions while we fucked, and she sometimes took advantage of that accessibility. I nearly swooned when she eased a finger inside me for the first time, and started consciously ensuring that my derriere was always clean and fresh for her welcome invasion. That attention to cleanliness was really little more than an excuse to fondle my back door. Pushing fingers into my bowels and fondling my prostate while making love to my tits was almost enough to make me cum without touching my swollen staff.

That Friday, I kept myself on the erotic edge most of the afternoon. I intended to obey Miriam’s instructions to the letter. If she wanted a harlot, I’d be more than happy to provide one for her. Feeling bold and brazen, as I moisturized my body, I turned my back to the mirror and watched as I lubricated my asshole with a deeply probing finger. I bit my lower lip, gasped quietly as I inserted a second beside the first. From the rear, there was no indication of masculinity whatsoever. My enhanced cheeks were high and tight. My tits bounced succulently as I fucked my ass. Even without makeup, my face was an image of pure wanton femininity.

Completely enraptured, I compelled myself to stop and swayed to the bedroom, relishing my loosened hips, and perused my closet for something to match my mood and my love’s desires. It wasn’t hard to find something suitably decadent. The difficult part was choosing *which* revealing outfit to wear. After due consideration, I settled upon a lacy lycra gartered bodybriefer which resembled a basque more than a girdle. It’s aquamarine and black made my gleaming, sleek skin nearly luminous. The garment smoothed my curves, thrust my breasts upward and made for a truly spectacular cleavage without hiding a thing. Even the crotch was ideal. With the snaps closed, my groin was flat, with just the suggestions of an enticing vulva. With them open, my Miriam could make use of the penis she so adored.

I smoothed the turquoise nylons over my long legs and straightened the seams before buckling my feet into open toed stiletto heeled pumps. Just the sight of myself stiffened my nipples, and the best was yet to come. I went to my vanity, tried to control my eagerness, and began work on my face.

As I implied, I’d become adept, if I do say so myself, with cosmetics. I could use my vast palette of colors to paint a living canvas for any occasion, from a refined day of public shopping, to a depraved night of private, raw sex at home. The latter end of the spectrum was my goal that day, and I succeeded admirably. My dark lashes bowed seductively beneath the weight of their mascara, further defined by a generous application of liner. The blue contact lenses and blended shades of eye shadow enhanced the nearly fluorescent hue of my lingerie. I’d chosen a foundation, blusher and powder which softened my angular contours while highlighting my cheekbones. I penciled in a slightly exaggerated outline for my mouth with a rich vermilion, creating a more pendulous lower lip and a more bowed upper, then filled the sketch with a searing, deep red, glossed to a mirror-like sheen.

I studied the results with lusty appreciation. I watched my heavy lips slowly shape the whispered verdict. “Slut.” I savored the word as I pinched my nipples. “Nasty, hot slut.”

Thoroughly immersed in my role, my movements became slow, lethargic, direct expressions of unfettered carnality. I was totally relaxed, despite the relentless throbbing of my tightly compressed penis and warm, moist feeling ass. I had plenty of time for a manicure and to finish working my raven locks into seductive waves framing my haunting face.

I answered the intercom in an unforced, throaty purr without removing my rapt gaze from the mirror.

“Are you about ready for me, Barb?”

“Oh, honey,” I murmured, “am I ever.”

Her tone dropped. “Are you ready for the fucking of your life?”

I laughed sultrily. “If you don’t get up here real soon, I’m going to have to start without you. I *need* it, Miriam. I need it *bad.*”

Her chuckle matched mine. “Oh, you’ll get it, love. All you can handle, and then some.” I cradled the phone, shivering. Whatever she had planned was sure to be good.

I was on my back, arms thrown wide, knees cradling my heaving tits. Two pillows were under my hips. Miriam leered up at me from between my widely spread thighs. We both watched the lubed, cock shaped dildo slide into what she’d dubbed my pussy.

I was past the screaming stage. My slick lips were by then ovaled in moans of shattering joy. My hips rose to meet my invader.

Miriam coached me in raw whispers. “That’s it babe. Take more. Suck it in your pussy. Fuck that big cock, Barb. Fuck it good. Does it make you hot, lover? Does it make you feel good?”

“Yes,” I gasped. “Oh, yes.”

“You like to fuck, don’t you, honey? You like the way a hard cock feels in your tight cunt. You like being my whore, don’t you?” She thrust it even deeper within me. I watched it vanish, inch by inch.

“Ahh! God! Yes!”

“Say it,” she cooed. “Tell me, baby.”

“I’m your whore, Miriam! Oh, do it! Fuck me, bitch! I love it!”

“There’s another cock, baby. Jack it off for me. Make it shoot cum all over those nasty big tits and that slutty face while I fuck you.”

So it was that I first tasted my own fresh sperm, felt it massaged into my tits. I had more later, withdrawn from her cunt by my tongue and smeared red lips. And, later still, a full measure when she bent me double and made me shoot off straight into my gaping lips while she fucked me with another toy, a monstrous strap-on double headed prick.

Unbelievable as it may sound, until that world-shaking night, I’d never doubted my vision of myself as a pure heterosexual. I well understood the difference between transvestism and transexuality. I’d considered myself a frustrated crossdresser blessed with a girlfriend who’d released and loved my fetish as much as I did. But the unparalleled ecstasy of having my cherry ass fucked, of admitting – screaming! – that I positively adored being Miriam’s slut, of crowing in lusty victory as I swallowed my own savory cum – those experiences dramatically altered my opinion of myself.

Awaking that morning after, with a rawly burning sphincter and bite ravaged nipples, I told myself it was just another day. I immediately swallowed some pain killers to block the searing physical agony, and the ensuing wooziness clouded the emotional trauma, as well. I turned away from the questions threatening to overwhelm me, persuaded myself that nothing had changed. I obscured my qualms with makeup, covered my residual maleness with tight g-string panties.

Miriam found me in front of the computer, the screen displaying the results of my search on hormones for the transgendered. Her hands massaged my shoulders as I read. Wordlessly, her hands slid down and cupped my heavy breasts. My lashes fluttered. I quit reading, bent my head back, allowing the warmth to envelope me. She bent down and met my hungry lips.

Later that afternoon, while Miriam was downstairs checking on a tummy tuck, I discovered a prescription bottle parked on my vanity with my cosmetics. It bore Barbara’s full name with instructions to take two capsules three times a day. I swallowed a low thrill with my first dose of hormones. This, too, was only temporary. The effects would diminish as soon as I quit the drug.

A little later, I was on my hands and knees on the living room floor, my tight leather skirt pulled above my waist, with Miriam on her knees behind me, driving her massive cock into both of us while she used my swollen tits for handles.

Two months flew past. It was high summer. I was drinking a little too much wine and eating a few too many tranquilizers. I was Miriam’s whore, and my controlled drug use kept me feeling appropriately slutty. My fiancee made no objection as long as I didn’t get too caried away. I loved the blurry, sensuous heat which never left. I loved the sexy clothes which were displacing the bland, never worn male garb from my closet and dresser drawers. Being a sexy, slightly exhibitionistic woman had become natural. I never questioned my lavish, trashy makeup and revealing clothes. Nor did Miriam, for she guided and inspired me.

We kept one another thoroughly fucked. We sometimes used the organ attatched to my groin for its original purpose, but as often as not preferred our dildoes. While it still achieved impressive erections, it wasn’t nearly as rock hard as before. Except when one of us was masturbating it, sucking it, or had it buried in one of Miriam’s orifices, I kept it tucked away under tight lingerie.

I hadn’t been eating much, and the loss of weight, combined with frequent corsetry, was shaping me wonderfully. The hormones were helping, too. I had to use the depiltory less and less frequently to keep myself perfectly smooth below my eyelashes. My curves were softening slightly, and the texture of my flesh was improving. I still usually used the hair weaves, despite my longer natural locks, but had started relying upon a salon for weekly touchups to my tint, relishing facials and manicures while I was there.

I seldom wore brassieres, preferring to feel the leap of my ever more sensitive – and slightly larger – tits. I can’t deny enjoying the inevitable male attention my nipples attracted as well. I was an undeniable stone fox, with Miriam’s full approval and support.

The joke about who should wear the engagement ring was settled. I did. I’d broken into joyous tears when she’d dropped to one knee and slipped it on my finger. My gorgeous fiancee was seldom seen in dresses any more. She’d begun favoring slacks and jeans and a more severe hair style. We knew that people were beginning to think she was a dyke, but ignored the gossip, as we ignored so many things. At home, she often stuck a completely realistic phallus, complete with testicles, into her slacks. It had a nice little knob which fit her cunt and held it in place. I loved rubbing against her, feeling the perpetual hard-on she had for me. She let me talk her into wearing it sometimes when we went out.

We’d shared an especially decadent Saturday afternoon in celebration of our three month anniversary, and when she told me to dress for a night out, the wicked wantonness I’d just displayed in bed overflowed. I still felt nasty. My red cocktail gown fit like skin, its sequins glowed like fire. The towering heels thrust my much used ass out in invitation. My lips pouted, begged to be kissed. My meticulously drawn eyes invited more sex.

Miriam, equally dressed for a change, took advantage of my slatternliness on the drive to the club she’d chosen, making me smear my lipstick all over her juicy slit while I jacked myself off into a cupped palm. It was an awkward position, but my casual aerobics had limbered me quite a bit. After she’d also cum, she lapped some of my sperm from my hand, then had me lick the rest.

As we refreshed our faces in the parking lot, she explained the rules for the night. “It’s a dance club, and we’ll dance with whomever I decide we should.”

I froze. “With men?”

Her laugh was clipped. “It’s not a lesbian bar, Barb.”

“You’re not going to . . .” I swallowed the words I couldn’t utter.

“What? Fuck another man? Let somebody fuck *you*?”

I nodded, my ears ringing.

“No way, baby. You may be a slut, but you’re *my* slut. I’m the only one who stuffs your cunt – and don’t you forget it.”

I slid closer to her, lay my head on her shoulder and breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

She weighed my left breast. “But I *do* want you to flirt like the shameless bitch you are. Make them hard, honey. Drive them fucking wild.”

I returned the caress. “Will that make you hot, Miriam? Will it make your pussy wet to see somebody dry humping me during a slow dance, or have me mash my tits into a guy’s arm?”

“I’m dripping just thinking about it. How are you going to feel seeing men trying to seduce me?”

“It makes my clit tingle,” I purred. “Well, tramp, let’s go have some fun.”

We did. Almost a lot more fun than we’d planned. I was kissed for the first time by another male. And a second, third, etc. time, as well. Losing my mouth’s virginity was horrible, but I rapidly got used to having scratchy faces rubbing mine, thrusting rough tongues into my mouth, while hard arms squeezed my ass and slab-like bellies crushed my tits. They lit my first cigarettes.

I rested my hand on their knees.

All this at Miriam insistence. But there were things I didn’t confess that I prayed she didn’t know about – and wished *I* didn’t. Like when one of my dance partners grabbed my hand and wrapped it around the cock he’d been grinding into my pubis. His tongue fucked my wet red lips. I let my hand stay where he’d placed it. And the guy blew his rocks in his slacks. I felt his spurts against my palm, my hip.

She had her fun, too. I could plainly see that my sleazy actions weren’t the only things exciting her. The dicks she awoke had their natural effects. It’d been a long while since she’d been pounded by anything hot and stiff. Her lust was clearly visible in her hugely swollen nipples.

I released the immense pressure that’d been building within her during a freshen up session in the ladies’ room. She sat on a toilet while I sucked her to a massive orgasm. Then, for the first time in a week, she stood me before her, with my heels planted wide, and returned the favor, deepthroating my drooping organ with fine frenzy. In the ensuing kiss, she fed some cum back to me.

The trouble came when we decided it was time to go. We literally had to enlist the aid of the bouncer to persuade our most recent partners that we really *did* want to go home alone.

Our remarkable evening out culminated in a frenzied mutual fuck that left us both raw and exhausted. However, my dreams were haunted by the feeling of that stiff dick dumping its load in a stranger’s slacks. I’d done that to him. While awake, I could ignore the impact. Asleep, however, the truth will out.

Two days later, I drove to the salon for my weekly appointment. As always, I went sans the add-in hair weaves. By then, they were really only needed for a little fullness and added length. My natural locks brushed my shoudlers with soft ebony curls. Miriam had decided I should go for an even deeper tint, an obviously artificial blue-black. Since Saturday, I’d been feeling the constant urge for a raunchier look, and I put up no argument. The hue suited me just fine, but was going to require some additions to my array of cosmetics. I need lipstick and eye shadow to match my curved deep vermillion nails. I was traipsing through the mall when it happened.

I’d become adjusted to the continual caress of male eyes when I was out. It was a thrilling awareness, and with Saturday’s wild physical memory of *exactly* the effect I had on males, I found myself unconsciously strutting even more provocatively than normal, despite a silent shame. So, the blonde man’s double take as he stared at me was both complimentary and discomforting. I peripherally noted that he changed course and followed me. I was highly aware of his eyes on my swaying ass.

I’d been hit on a few times, and thought I knew what was coming next. I was mildly surprised, because I’d instantly pegged the guy as gay. His pace increased, and he drew alongside, wearing a weird smile that should have been a clue. I had a frosty smile ready, and a polite rebuff. But his words destroyed my slightly arrogant balance.

His voice was conspiratorial, polite, sincere, and soft. “Excuse me, but I couldn’t help noticing that you’re a dresser. I’m a TV myself, and I was wondering if you could give me some tips. I’ve never seen a girl as beautiful as you and -”

My panic was instantaneous and absolute. I fled from him as if from a violent rapist, clattering away in stark terror and creating a scene.

“There, there, it’s okay, love. No harm done.”

“No harm!” I shrieked hysterically. “He saw! He knew!”

I’d interrupted her during office hours, miraculously between clients. She’d been holding me for over two hours as I alternately shivered and sobbed. She was trying to be patient with me, but the strain was showing. “Darling, it’s only the hormones. I warned you about overdosing the way you’ve been doing. We’ll -”

“It’s not the fucking hormones,” I screamed. “It’s me, goddamn it! I’m a fucking pervert! He saw me! He saw *me*!”

She slapped me, not hard, but it stunned me to silence. Her face had gone cold, and her voice was quite calm. “Shut up. Listen to me. It’ll never happen again. You have my word. Do you hear me?”

I nodded, slowly.

“Now take a few slow breaths. That’s it.”

I quit shaking. She held me at arms length, peered into my eyes. “You okay now?”

Again I nodded, sniffed.

She stood, kept her hands on my shoulders. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. You stay right here. Want a drink?”

“Okay.” I smiled weakly at her back. Stiffly, I reached for the bedside tissue, then lay back. I was afraid to relax, afraid the terror would come back. “‘Excuse me, I couldn’t help noticing . . .'” I dug my nails into my palms. “I’m not like him,” whispered. “I’m not.”

I was laying rigidly on the mattress, losing my battle against horror, when Miriam returned. I flung my head onto her lap the instant she sat. “I can’t stand it, Miriam. I can’t.”

She petted my hair. “I know, love. I know. Trust me. Let me take care of it.”

I felt a needle prick my shoulder. I jerked, then lay still. My love was purring soft words in my ear, stroking my inky hair. Her voice warmed me before the drug did.

This time I knew exactly where I was and why. I just didn’t know what. I was again totally restrained. I lay there for hours as my senses alternately focused and faded. I made no outcry. I knew part of what I was feeling and thinking was real, and part of it was dream or hallucination. I had no frame of reference to distinguish between poles, nor any desire to do so.

I could see nothing but an arc of the half lit ceiling, which told me only that it was night. No upthrust of bosom. No sweep of hair. No clue. What had she done to me? Which way had I gone?

For, like a morning flower, it’d dawned on me as I’d awakened that the eerie vow she’d taken, and my acceptance, could have been read in either of two ways. If I was male, there’d never again be That Problem. The same would hold true if I was entirely female.

I could have moved. I could have wiggled my fingers, my toes, flexed my chest muscles. Reason could have prevailed. Instead, I stayed so still that I went numb. Pain sensors were throbbing softly from somewhere within me, but I didn’t want to know where. It didn’t matter.

The sheet and thin blanket were warm weights. I could be aware of each wrinkle and fold, if I cared to. My breaths seemed far between, as if I no longer needed oxygen. My mind felt crystal clear, and just that fragile. I felt a tingling swell ripple throughout me, so overwhelming that left me agape. The wave returned, or resonated at a higher pitch, and it was like my soul had just orgasmed.

I was thrust gently free of my body, like a soap bubble from a wire frame, and wobbled radiantly away. I was both calm and consumed by awe. There was no space for fear. I was free.

There was no space for lies, either. It *did* matter. But, even before I encompassed my body in my sight, I knew. It was no shock to perceive the graceful swells and delightful hollows of the woman on the narrow bed. I cried with joy at her voluptuous beauty, her sleeping perfection. When the healing was done, her long neck would be swan-like and sleek. Her lips and nipples, now slightly swollen by injections, would smooth into their altered shapes. Her new chin would be delicate and dimpled, her new cheekbones high and poud. Beneath the clean bandages at the base of her sternum, where a pair of ribs had been, would be the tiniest waist imaginable. She would be devastatingly gorgeous, indisputably female – despite the lovely little penis/clit still nestled between her sleek, hairless thighs.

That, now, was the only remaining memory of who she’d once been. No idle passer-by could ever again mistake her for a male. Only a lover could know of her special secret. These changes were *not* temporary, and my bliss escalated past endurable proportions. I didn’t exactly hear my cry, but knew that sound was what compelled me back into my body.

Miriam came running in, rubbing sleep from her eyes. The flare of the overhead flourescents were blinding. “Darling! Are you -”

“Oh yes!” I whispered rawly, aware of how sore my throat was, and of the dull throb that accompanied each breath I drew. “I’m fine, love! Thank you!” Even though hoarse, I heard how my voice had changed.

Relief flooded through her. “I was afraid I’d gone too far, that you’d hate me.” Her vision clouded. “When I explain everything, you still might.”

“There’s no need to explain! I understand. I know.”

“But -”

“Please, just take me back upstairs. Put me in our bed and lay beside me.”

I slowly spun in a circle before Miriam’s rapt gaze. “Well?”

It was still a thrill, hearing my own throaty contralto.

She shook her head in wonder. “Are you sure you want to go out dressed that way?”

“I’ve got to be at my best for you tonight, and I’ve already missed two appointments, love. My roots are showing. It makes me look so cheap.”

She laughed with me. “Barb, you’re a living ad for cheap.”

“Well I certainly hope so. What’s the point in being 38-20- 35 if you’re not going to display it properly?” I peered down my expansive cleavage. “*Barbie* is more like it.”

“And I suppose you’re looking for your Ken?”

I swayed seductively to her. She watched my hand move to her groin. Her eyes half closed as I massaged the bulge there. “You’re all the Ken I need.”

“For now,” she purred brushing my permanently pouting lips with hers. “Until tonight.”

My breath was coming quickly, pressing my long nipples even tighter into the tight bodice of the green dress. The tops of my large aureolae were pretty crescents. Her hips were rocking under my crimson clawed hand. I sank to my knees, downed her zipper, freed my end of her luscious latex prick. “Forever, until you tell me otherwise. I’m yours, Miriam. Body and soul.”

“Until tonight,” she repeated. She stared down at me, watching my lipstick smear the full length of her cock as I nuzzled her balls. “A whore’s useless unless she’s shared, Barbie.”

The End

Additional Reading

SheMale Academy

shemale academy

Chapter 1

As the van moves slowly and anonymously through dense city traffic, its carefully and very tightly restrained cargo struggles angrily and squeals with increasing desperation into his soft but highly effective panty gag. Alan, soon to be Alice, lies face down on a leather bench bolted to the floor of the van. His slender, always girlish frame is sealed from neck to toe in a tight, figure hugging cocoon of pink rubber and thick leather straps hold his body in place at the ankles, thighs, back and neck. Beneath the rubber, he is naked, his arms lashed painfully behind his back at the elbows and wrists, his ankles also tied tightly together. Large, fearful tears trickle from his baby blue eyes, over his flushed, gag-expanded cheeks and across the thick strip of silver masking tape holding the panties firmly in place.

Poor Alan’s useless struggles are hidden from view by carefully blacked out rear windows and a thick metal partition that separates the storage area from the driver and passenger’s seats. He knows that Miss Lord and his Aunt are sitting on the other side of the partition, and he also knows that they are taking him, completely against his will (yet with the absolute agreement of his mother), to the Lacy Academy for Young Ladies. Here, he is to be subject to a strict regime of enforced feminization, to be transformed into a demure, submissive and utterly convincing she-male maidservant.

When his training is complete, he is to be returned to serve his beautiful, long suffering mother, Mary, and his elder sisters, Miriam and Stephanie. Then Alan will truly become Alice; his bold, brash and arrogant male self will be destroyed and replaced with the dainty, ultra-feminine personality of a sissy slave girl.

This strange future had been described to him only an hour before by his gorgeous and very determined Aunt Holly. Awaking from the effects of a drugged cup of tea, he had discovered himself on the living room floor, naked, bound hand and foot and tightly panty gagged. As he had struggled before his Aunt’s high-heeled feet, she had revealed his fate with a cruel smile.

“Put simply, Alan, your mother, your sisters and I have had enough of you. And this business with the police is truly the last straw. How a young man who has had your opportunities and privileges can end up spending a night in a police cell for being drunk and disorderly… well, it defies belief. It also exceeds the limits of your mother’s patience. Since your fifteenth birthday, you’ve brought her nothing but trouble and embarrassment; she’s had to put up with a year of masculine insanity, most of which can be put down to physiological and social conditioning. Well, it’s about time we reserved that conditioning. And it just so happens, I know someone who can do this very effectively.”

As he had struggled, as tears had begun to pour from his eyes, Aunt Holly told him of her close friend Angeline Lacey, the headmistress of a very special and very secret school for wayward young men; a strange, awful place where the delinquent sons of the rich and powerful were sent to undergo a radical and permanent transformation into pretty, subservient she-males, she-males who were in terms of their physical appearance, dress and manner ultra-female, yet who remained, in most cases, biologically male. Petticoated males, who were carefully conditioned to look and act like the most extreme sissies imaginable. As a pupil at Miss Lacey’s school, Alan would be transformed into Alice, a lovely, mincing maidservant whose only desires would be to revel in her extremely delicate and increasingly radical feminization and to serve her mistresses in any way they required.

As Aunt Holly had revealed his terrible fate with a widening smile, Alan had tried to avoid staring at her long, black nylon sheathed legs towering above over him. As this gorgeous, brown eyed brunette, the subject of so may of his teenage fantasies, pronounced his fate like a Greek goddess, he had squealed his outrage and rolled over to face his mother, his eyes pleading uselessly for mercy and release.

His mother was slightly shorter than Aunt Holly, but just as beautiful. His only parent since a bitter divorce ten years previously, Alan had grown up loving her with an almost unnatural passion. Yet in the last year, this love had been ruined by a series of mindless acts, acts inspired by a group of very rowdy, aggressive friends. He had suddenly changed from a mild mannered mother’s boy into a genuine terror, bringing shame and bitter disruption to the family home.

Following her teasing description of his fate, Aunt Holly had, with his mother’s disturbingly eager assistance, forced his bound body into the rubber bag, sealing him inside with a wicked, vengeful smile as had he squealed and cried. Then, to his horror and utter humiliation, as the bag was pulled over his long, girlish legs, his exposed penis had suddenly become erect.

“Well,” Aunt Holly had whispered, “you’re obviously not as upset as you sound. Maybe it’s the taste of my soiled panties.”

Once he had been tightly ‘bagged up’, Aunt Holly had left the living room. His mother had then knelt down at his side and used a scented hanky to swipe the sweat from his flushed, tear soaked face.

“It’s for your own good, Alan. Holly assures me you’ll be far happier as Alice. And it will be so nice to have a sweet, obedient daughter.”

His squeals lessened as his mother had mopped his brow. Dressed in a beautiful cream silk blouse, short black skirt and matching hose, her own high-heeled mules glistening in the bright summer daylight only inches from his tightly bound body, she had been a vision of mature beauty, another striking brunette with a superb figure which his guilty eyes had fought to avoid. Her strong, rose scented perfume had tickled his nostrils and brought back a hundred sinful memories of his helpless attraction to her. Her golden brown eyes had held both a mother’s concern and her own definite arousal. He had felt as his sex strain harder in its sinister rubber prison as his eyes were pulled towards her long, black stockinged legs. As she knelt beside him, her skirt had risen up to reveal the dark tips of her shapely upper thighs and a hint of blood red silk panties. Then he had found his terror and outrage crushed by a very familiar and awful shame, and he knew it was this perverse need that had driven him into the hands of the police, that his behaviour over the past year had not just been the rage of a testosterone fuelled boy, but the reaction of a suddenly sexually aware youth to the simple fact that he desired his own mother. And as this desire had returned, as he had wiggled helplessly before her, he had found himself thinking, if only briefly, that perhaps feminization was the most suitable punishment for such a dark lust.

His eyes had then met hers and she had smiled. He had fallen still. She had taken his head in her hands. Suddenly, his bonds had not felt so terrible and he found himself moaning with a weird girlish pleasure into the inescapable gag, a pleasure in his helplessness and in his intimate, complete possession by his lovely mother. Then, suddenly, Aunt Holly had strolled back into the room and Alan almost immediately resumed his ballet of squeals and wiggles.

Accompanying his Aunt was a very tall and very beautiful blonde woman, a complete stranger who regarded the naked, tormented Alan with a grim smile of contempt. Dressed in a skin tight black sweater, equally tight Lycra leggings and a pair of running shoes, her striking blonde hair bound in a tight bun, she had seemed a particularly athletic figure and very much prepared for physical exercise.

“We’ll get him into the van and be off,” his Aunt had then announced. “It’s best we don’t hang around.”

The blonde had then grabbed his cocooned feet and Aunt Holly had taken his shoulders. Despite his struggles, they had lifted his slight frame into the air with little effort and carried him squealing from the room.

“Say hello to Alice, Beverly,” Aunt Holly had said to the blonde as they marched out into the sheltered forecourt of his mother’s large, suburban house.

“Hello, Alice,” the blonde had responded, her ice blue eyes filled with a wicked amusement. “I’m Beverly Lord, a teacher at Miss Lacey’s establishment.”

Then they had carefully loaded him into the waiting transit van and very tightly strapped him down, his continued wiggles and squeals earning two very hard and painful slaps on his rubber-sheathed backside from Miss Lord. And as the rear doors had been closed and locked, plunging Alan into a shadowy, echoing darkness, a sense of absolute doom had washed over him.

Now, less than sixty minutes later, as the van progresses through city traffic and moves onto the main road out of the city, the taste of Aunt Holly’s soiled panties, the pungent taste of her most intimate regions, fill his mouth and seem to seep as a delicate sex scent from behind the thick tape sealing his lips and flood into his desperately flaring nostrils. Despite his fear and panic, he is still very erect, and visions of his lovely Aunt and her gorgeous sister frame every angry but useless struggle against this awful bondage. Yet despite this bizarre arousal, and maybe because of it, his sense of doom is even stronger.


The journey to Miss Lacey’s Academy takes maybe another hour. During this time, poor Alan’s struggles are whittled down to helpless, angry breathing through the fat, pungent gag and the odd futile attempt to strain against the straps holding him so tightly in place. Throughout the journey, he finds himself repeatedly recalling his naked, tethered struggles before his lovely, teasing Aunt. Aunt Holly: a woman he has always found it much easier to desire. Her confident, dominant manner has always intimidated; yet it has also secretly excited him. His erection is therefore still in full effect by the time the van suddenly slows and stops. There is the briefest pause and then, after a sharp left turn, the van is moving again, but this time down a much bumpier road. This second part of the journey takes maybe fifteen minutes. The quality of the road worsens and soon poor Alan is shaken uncomfortably in the leather restraints. Then, quite suddenly, the bouncing stops. The van now seems to be on a much smoother roadway, and after only a few minutes it stops again. The front doors are opened and then slammed shut. He hears voices. His heart pounding with terror, he squeals desperately into the gag. The rear doors are unlocked and afternoon sun light suddenly floods the rear compartment.

“Welcome to Miss Lacey’s Academy for Young Ladies, Alice: your new home.”

This is Miss Lord’s voice. He hears her climb into the van and then feels her hands removing the straps. Then somebody else enters the van. As Miss Lord helps free Alan, it becomes clear the second person is Aunt Holly. And with her help, Miss Lord turns a numbed, stunned Alan over and the two women then carry him carefully from the van and into a large stone tiled forecourt which appears surrounded by a huge, ancient wood.

The two women then load him face down onto a leather-backed, hospital style trolley and use more leather straps to hold him in place. He is then wheeled towards a very large, very old house, which rises out of the wood like some strange creation of nature, a vast mansion designed in the Victorian Gothic style with a huge, arched entrance. And standing beneath this entrance he can see three figures.

As they move closer, Alan, now moaning fearfully into the gag, sees that the three figures are women, two dressed in very formal, dark business suits and one in a very striking French maid’s uniform.

One of the women steps forward exactly as Alan is wheeled under the archway. She is a tall, very beautiful redhead, in her early 40s. Her emerald green eyes peer down at helpless, fearful and now deeply embarrassed Alan, eyes filled with a very unsettling hostility towards the rubberised youth.

“She is to be taken to room 20,” the redheaded woman says, her clipped, Celtic voice failing to disguise her contempt for the expertly trussed male.

“Miss Wilding and Honey will deal with him from there.’

The striking woman then turns towards Aunt Holly. “Mistress Angeline would like to talk to you immediately.”

The second suited woman, a smaller, plumper blonde then steps forward and takes control of the trolley. His Aunt and the redheaded woman then begin a whispered and clearly strained conversation. Miss Lord and the blonde, who Alan now realises is Miss Wilding, push Alan into the house, followed very closely by the beautiful, delicately mincing maid, whose own very pale blue eyes remain pinned with an intense fascination on Alan’s tethered, rubberised form.

Soon they are in a huge hallway, and the sound of the women’s high heels echo against the marble floor, striking up a sharp, percussive rhythm that fills the unfortunate youth with an even greater dread. He notices a huge winding staircase to his left, yet the two women, followed by the maid, carry him off down a secluded and very dark corridor, at the end of which appears to be a large black metal doorway. As they approach the door, it suddenly slides open to reveal an elevator car!

Amazed and appalled, Alan squeals fearfully into his fat panty gag as he is carried inside the car. The maid enters behind them and then uses one of her white satin-gloved fingers to press a button on a wall panel and the metal door slides shut. A sickening feeling grips Alan’s stomach as the lift then suddenly begins a sharp descent.

They descend into this unknown abyss for only a few seconds before the car gently glides to a halt. The door slides open and he is wheeled out into a very bright, white walled corridor. Ahead, he can see the ceiling, along which runs a powerful white neon strip light. As he is pushed down the corridor, he also notices that the walls on either side of the corridor are lined with numbered pink doors.

Eventually, they arrive at room 20. His lovely bearers draw to a halt by the door and the maid minces forward to open it. Alan is then wheeled inside.

The room on the other side is surprisingly large. Each of the four walls is painted the same shade of pink as the door. A thick white carpet is spread across the floor. Against the nearest wall is a very large, very ornate white dressing table with a striking oval mirror. By the dressing table is a further, full sized mirror on a separate wooden stand, and next to the mirror is set of white wooden doors that seem to be the entrance to a walk-in closet. A little further down from the closet is another white door.

Along the far wall there are bookshelves filled with books and magazines and a few feet away from the shelves, there is an exercise bike. Just beyond the exercise bike is a single bed covered in beautiful white silk sheets. The only seat in the room is a pink leather backed stool placed beneath the dressing table.

Alan squeals as the women then release the leather straps and carry him over to the bed, where he is very carefully set down. His hot, flushed, tear stained cheeks press against the soft white silk sheets and his two bearers begin to remove the body bag. Soon, his sweat soaked and totally naked body is exposed to the relatively cool air of the room and a sense of infinite relief washes over him. Numb and aching all over, he is then pulled slowly to his bound feet and made to stand somewhat precariously in front of Miss Wilding.

“I am Miss Wilding,” she announces, as Miss Lord, after exchanging a dark smile with her lovely colleague, leaves the room.

Miss Wilding’s crystal blue eyes sparkle with a cruel amusement, her large, firm breasts rise and fall with a mixture of physical effort and sexual arousal.

“I will be your personal tutor,” she says, “and as such will be in overall charge of your feminization.”

His only response to this strange announcement is an angry squeal into the gag and an equally outraged shake of his head.

“This is Honey,” Miss Wilding continues, turning to the lovely maid, who then minces forward and performs a deep curtsey before Alan. “She is a newly qualified Graduate Maid and will act as my assistant. She will also be your Sissy Mentor.”

It is only now that Alan begins, almost helplessly, to study his captors in more detail. Miss Wilding is maybe 25, of medium height, with a pleasantly plump, yet very shapely figure. Like Miss Lord, she wears her hair in a tight bun. Her suit, which appears to be some kind of instructor’s uniform, consists of a dark blue jacket, a white blouse and a matching, dark blue mini-skirt, which displays her surprisingly long and black hosed legs to perfection. Black patent leather, high-heeled court shoes add a final touch of formal glamour.

Miss Wilding’s assistant, Honey, is younger, surely no more than eighteen. A tall, very buxom blonde, she is simply stunning. Her thick, very long hair has been tied in a pretty ponytail with a gleaming red silk ribbon and travels her perfectly shaped back down to the base of her spine. Her face is carefully and erotically made up. She has very long, curving eyebrows and equally long, helplessly fluttering eyelashes that perfectly complement her large blue eyes. Her full, pouting lips are painted a dark cherry red, which matches exactly her long glistening fingernails. Around her slender, pale neck is a simple, black velvet choker with a glistening emerald centrepiece. Her maid’s dress is cut from the finest black silk and beautifully trimmed with expensive cream lace at the plunging neckline, long sleeves and very short skirt. Her large, pale rose breasts seem to be heaving with some considerable excitement beneath the tight folds of the dress, over which is positioned a lovely cream silk pinafore tied at her back in a huge bow. The very short skirt of the dress rests on a mountain of lace froufrou petticoating, out of which emerge two perfectly shaped and very long legs sheathed in seamed black nylons, which lead down to a pair of stiletto heeled, open toed mules.

Alan stares at her in amazement and his sex is soon very obviously responding to this tremendously sexy dream girl. Miss Lord giggles and Honey smiles shyly. Then her lovely blue eyes meet Alan’s and he recognises an unmistakable look of desire.

“I’m glad you like Honey, Alice,” Miss Wilding teases, suddenly stepping forward and grabbing Alan’s exposed, erect sex, “because she’s responsible for supervising all your dress and make up requirements, and for your body hygiene.”

Alan squeals in horror as Miss Wilding’s cool hand wraps around his sex. He struggles furiously, trying to pull himself free of Miss Wilding’s tight, painful grasp. Her response to this resistance is to administer a very hard slap to his face and pull him forward by his tormented cock.

His ankles still tightly bound, his head spinning from the slap, he is forced to hop pathetically behind Miss Wilding. Honey then steps forward and opens the single white door just beyond the closet to reveal a small, pink tiled bathroom, which consists of a simple marble wash basin, a toilet and a glass-panelled shower unit. Above the washbasin is a very large, mirrored medicine cabinet. On the wall opposite the shower are rows of metal racks over which hang thick pink towels of various sizes.

He is pulled painfully into the centre of the bathroom. Miss Wilding then releases her terrible grip on his sex and turns to face him.

“You will learn that any form of resistance, however minor, will be severely punished. I will administer a more appropriate punishment later, but now Honey will prepare you for your meeting with Miss Lacey and the other senior staff.”

With this, Miss Wilding turns and marches from the bathroom, her heels clicking against the gleaming tiled floor, Alan’s eyes helplessly following her long, black hosed legs in their confident, sexy stride. Then he finds himself turning back to face the gorgeous spectacle of Honey. The lovely maid unleashes another helplessly sexy, shy smile and minces on her very high heels towards him.

“I better untie you, first, Alice.”

Her voice is so sweet and gentle, the beautiful collision of a little girl’s high pitched tones with the erotic cadence of a very sexy adult. Now he knows why she is called Honey.

As the gorgeous maid gently removes the bonds securing his body, he suddenly becomes acutely aware of his nakedness. For the first time since his arrival, embarrassment replaces fear and anger. As this beautiful young woman works his arms free, he blushes. As her large breasts press through the soft, teasing fabric of her beautiful, sexy dress against his back, he is overwhelmed with a bizarre mixture of humiliation and sexual excitement. And rather than try to escape once his arms and ankles are untied, he shyly covers his stiff sex with his hands.

“I’m going to remove the gag,” Honey says. “If you scream out or try to run away, I will call for a mistress and you will be caught and severely punished. Escape is impossible anyway. We are in a sealed underground chamber, and the door to your room is controlled by a digital lock. Also, as you may have noticed, you’re naked.”

He nods his understanding and Honey carefully pulls the thick strip of tape from his lips. She then pulls the panty gag from his mouth and he gasps with relief. She smiles and drops the panties and tape into a plastic bin under the washbasin.

He says nothing as she then orders him to step into the shower. Indeed, he finds himself quite meekly obeying her, his hands still covering his erection, his face covered in a hood of embarrassed crimson. For now, he can see little point in resisting. Also, this beautiful girl has a manner about her that very easily dilutes any thought of resistance.

“Use this to wash,” she says, handing him a plastic bottle containing a pink coloured liquid. “Cover every inch of your body, including your face, pubes, under arms and between your buttocks. But don’t, under any circumstance, put it on your hair or get it in your eyes.”

She leans forward and turns the shower controller clockwise. A gentle stream of warm water splashes against his naked body and, after a moment’s hesitation; he pours a puddle of the pink liquid into his hands and begins to rub it carefully over his body. Soon he has worked up a thick lather and, as ordered, proceeds to cover every inch of his body, including his pubes and between his legs. He then stands under the shower and lets the water wash away the thick, pink lather. As it does so, something totally unexpected happens: the thin layers of hair on his chest, arms and legs are washed away as well, and so, to his horror, is his pubic hair! Indeed, within a few very deeply disturbing seconds, Alan’s body is completely hair free. Suddenly, his body is as silky smooth as a newborn baby’s, the only memory of his body hair a strange, yet not unpleasant tingling sensation.

Amazed, he turns towards Honey. “What’s happened? Where’s all my hair gone?”

“Be quiet,” Honey snaps. “Now wash your face as ordered and then use the soap in the dish to wash away any lingering cream.”

Despite his astonishment, he follows her instructions, quickly discovering that the bar of gold coloured soap gives off a very powerful feminine scent that only serves to increase his sense of humiliation and general emasculation. Yet despite this and despite the fact that every hair on his body and face have now been removed, he remains quite fiercely erect.

Once his body has been thoroughly soaped and soaked, he is given a small glass bottle and told to use the blue liquid within it to wash his hair. When his hair had been washed and rinsed, he is ordered to step from the shower. Sweet scented water trickling down his smooth, hairless body, poor Alan does as Honey instructs. The lovely maid then takes a large pink towel from one of the metal racks and wraps it tightly around his body. She then begins very gently to dry his body, her eyes darting shyly between the task in front of her and Alan’s crimson face. As her hands massage him through the thick towel fabric, his eyes are drawn helplessly towards her splendid breasts. The maid’s dress has been designed with a particularly plunging neckline and as Honey dries her charge, Alan receives a very fine view of these splendid pale rose orbs.

“You’re very beautiful,” he mumbles, helplessly brave words that seem to escape his mouth against his will.

She smiles briefly, girlishly, obviously delighted. “You mustn’t talk, Alice. No maid can talk without a mistress’s permission.”

“But you’re talking.”

“As a mentor, I am allowed the privilege of free speech, but only with my charge. And you must obey me. Now be quiet or I will gag you.”

He obeys her, even as her long, elegant hands reach the part of the towel covering his rigid sex, and even as she quite deliberately caresses his sex through the towel.

“You’ve got a very big cock, Alice. But Mistress Holly tells me you’ve probably never used it.”

As she teases him with these words, he fights to keep silent, despite the waves of anger and sexual hunger that crash over his body.

The towel is then removed in one swift, cruel gesture and, naked once again, he is led from the bathroom and back into the main bedroom area. Here he is made to stand before the closet doors and watch as Honey takes from inside a bizarre and disturbing collection of feminine attire, laying each item out carefully on the bed with an aroused smile.

His eyes flash between the clothes and Honey, eyes stretched wide by the terrible implications of the clothes and the incredible sexual beauty of this perfect maid.

“You will begin, as we all begin, as a Novice Maid. And this will be your uniform.”

He looks at the clothes and then at Honey.

“Wear this? You expect me to wear this!?” his voice rises, anger flooding his eyes, and he steps away from the bed.

“Of course,” Honey replies sternly. “This is why you’re here: To be feminised and trained as a maidservant! To become Alice! You have no choice. Now be quiet and put your hands behind your back.”

It is really only now that he knows her words are terribly, painfully true: He has no choice. He is naked, he is trapped in some kind of underground chamber, his mother has allowed him to be brought here against his will. Tears return to his eyes and he places his hands behind his back.

“The first lesson for a Novice is restraint,” Honey says, mincing from the bed to the dressing table. “You will not be expected to control your male desire: the mistresses know this is impossible. But you will be constantly restrained by order of the mistresses and you will learn to function as an obedient servant while restrained. Then, over time, your desire itself will become the most effective weapon of restraint.”

From the dressing table, she takes a very sheer, black nylon stocking. She then wiggles back towards him, her lovely blue eyes filled with a wicked amusement, her hands carefully bunching the stocking into a ball, her steps tiny and quick, her large breasts bouncing with great enthusiasm. His eyes dart with a mixture of fear and arousal between the stocking and her breasts, and they widen considerably as draws up before him, steps forward and then carefully begins to roll the soft, scented stocking over his rock hard sex. Moans of helpless pleasure escape from his mouth as the stocking is eased gently along the hot, rigid shaft. As she slides the stocking down over his testicles and pulls it tightly into place, her eyes lock onto his and her lovely cherry red lips curve into the sweetest and sexiest of smiles.

“It’s nice, isn’t it? We all have to wear sex stockings. Miss Lacey sees it as the most potent symbol of our feminisation.”

Her words take a while to sink in. Wiggling in a state of intense physical pleasure, it is only as she ties the stocking in place around his testicles with a pink silk ribbon that the words, “We all have to wear sex stockings,” set off alarm bells in his tortured mind.

“We?” he gasps. “What do you mean ‘we’?”

“Miss Lacey’s maids, the she-males. You, me… all of us.”

He steps back instinctively. A look of shock replaces the hungry gaze. “You? You’re a… male?”

“Of course, silly! I’m a Graduate maid, in the final stage of my training. I’m to be returned home at the end of this quarter. You’re my novice charge. I have to supervise the Novice stage of a feminisation successfully before I leave; and that’s you.”

Honey’s smile then broadens. “You thought I was a real girl, didn’t you! That makes me feel so good, Alice: to know I can pass so easily.”

“But you are so… real. I mean, your… your… ”

His eyes fall onto her gorgeous breasts and Honey laughs even louder.

“Part of the treatment is a fundamental physical alteration,’ she says, restraining her intense amusement. ‘I have all the outward physical traits of a woman, except one. We’re all on a constant diet of hormone pills and injections. I’ve also undergone, as you will undergo, quite significant plastic surgery. This normally happens at the end of the Novice Stage.”

His erection is suddenly dead, the stocking now an absurdly drooping piece of nylon between his silky smooth legs. Honey is a boy, a beautiful, sexy she-boy. She is also the mirror through which his feminine future is suddenly, shockingly revealed.

“Now, enough chat. I want you to spread your legs wide apart and bend over.”

Tears return to his eyes, yet he obeys, spreading his legs wide and then bending forward, pressing the clammy palms of his hands into the soft white carpet and exposing himself in the most intimate of ways to this stunning she-male beauty, a creature who, to his deep unease, he still finds incredibly attractive.

Once he is in the required position, there is a brief pause. Then, to his even greater horror, something hard and sticky is being pushed into his backside! Panicking, he tries to push himself up, but a hand suddenly lodges itself in his lower back, a strong hand that holds him firmly in this terribly exposed and helpless position.

“Just relax, Alice. It’ll hurt a bit at first, but you’ll soon get used to it. We all do.”

But he can’t relax. How can he?! Here he is, stripped naked, in the hands of a beautiful she-male, undergoing a most intimate and outrageous violation.

The object is long and curved and seems especially designed to penetrate deep into his back passage. At first, as Honey predicted, its progress is slow and painful and he yelps as Honey pushes it deeper.

“Every maid must wear a stocking, and every maid must be fitted with an anal plug. At each stage of your training, the size of the plug will be increased.”

Alan listens to these dreadful words and wants to scream out his disgust and horror. But what good will it do him? There is nowhere to run, no one to ask for help. He has been sentenced to this by his own stupidity and, more importantly, by his own mother. Yet even as he despairs, he knows deep down there is another terrible, simple reason why he was not fighting harder: this whole bizarre adventure is exciting him! And as Honey pushes the plug home, his erection begins, once again, to fill the teasing nylon folds of the stocking. And by the time he is helped upright, his stockinged sex stands before him like a terrible confession of the darkest masochistic desire.

Honey looks down at his re-born erection and smiles. “The plug tends to have that effect.”

He blushes furiously, but cannot disagree. As his buttocks tighten around the plug and push it a little deeper, he feels a sudden, very intense pleasure and his sex strains a little harder against its sweet nylon prison.

“Remember, Alice,” Honey says, smiling, her lovely eyes betraying her own arousal, “restraint.”

She then minces back to the dressing table and takes from within it a strange metal device consisting of two metal rings connected by a slender silver bar. Returning to her charge, she clicks open the rings and then, to Alan’s continuing horror, takes his straining, stockinged erection in her free hand. He gasps and fights another bout of tears, watching in helpless horror as Honey slides the opened rings over the rigid shaft of his sex and very carefully clicks them shut, thus locking his sex tightly and rather painfully in this very odd device.

“A double cock ring re-strainer,” Honey informs. “It makes orgasm or any form of masturbation impossible. It also ensures that an erection is a very uncomfortable experience. Unfortunately, you will probably be erect a great deal. But this too is quite deliberate: to be erect is to be under the most intense discipline.”

Sure enough, poor Alan soon discovers that the pain, a considerable irritation rather than real pain, does not lessen. And with the constant caress of the plug, it is very unlikely to!

“Now we can dress you,” Honey continues.

She minces over to the bed. Alan’s studies the erotic lines of her perfectly shaped, black nylon sheathed legs with eyes that know the truth yet can still only see a fantastically sexy, beautiful young woman.

“We’ll start with the training corselet; the fundamental undergarment of the Novice maid.”

From the bed, Honey picks up what looks like a white basque. Yet it has shoulder straps and a panty section. Alan also notices that its bra cups are padded in some way and that more padding seems to have been added to the hip sections. He also notices that the corselet has two white satin panels built into the sides and the lacing of a conventional corset sown into its back.

Honey then returns to her poor, sex confused charge and holds the corselet before him.

“Step into it,” she says, parting the two surprisingly thin shoulder straps.

Alan does as ordered, gingerly placing his left foot into the corselet and through the matching, heavily frilled leg section at the bottom. He then repeats this process carefully with his right foot and Honey proceeds to pull the corselet up over his body. The elastane material that makes up the basic fabric of the corselet is very soft, yet also very tight, and he finds his torso is quickly and tautly restrained. Honey then draws the straps up his arms and positions them over his shoulders. As she does so, he immediately notices the weight associated with padded bra pull at his chest. This part of the corselet is padded to give the impression of a rather considerable bosom, and he immediately experiences a strange sense of being drawn towards the floor.

“The rubber tits take some getting used to,” Honey comments, her teasing smile lighting up her gorgeous face. “You’ll be shown a special back strengthening exercise in deportment class to help deal with them.”

As the corselet is positioned, he looks down to see how his painfully restrained but still rampant sex is outlined against this tight, strangely erotic material. But what he sees is nothing! He gasps in surprise and Honey bursts into girlish laughter. Satisfied with the straps, she steps in front of him and points at the panty area.

“The panty is carefully padded at the hips and crotch area with special foam. It gives you the shape of a woman and also hides your sex. And as you can see, it has a special opening for those little emergencies.”

As she speaks, she leans forward and runs a hand along a row of pearl buttons that cross his lower stomach. It is clear this row mark out a flap, which can be pulled free to expose his restrained sex.

Honey then minces back behind him and takes up the loose ends of the satin ribbons criss-crossing the back of the corselet. She pulls very tightly on the ribbons and the mid-section suddenly contracts around his waist and upper chest, forcing the air from his lungs and his artificial chest to jut forward. The tightening of the corset section also immediately improves his posture, making him stand bolt upright.

“The corselet is an amazing creation. It fulfils the function of virtually every item of feminine foundation wear, and also creates the perfect she-male form.”

“Will my real breasts will they be this big?” Alan asks, still amazed by the strange but now far from unpleasant sensations inspired by the padded bra.

“It all depends on what the person who sent you here asked for. Mummy was very keen for me to have the biggest boobies my body structure could take, to help me truly understand what it felt like to be a woman. Most of the maids end up with very big boobs.”

As Honey speaks, poor Alan can’t help become excited, and as he does, the dreadful effect of the re-strainer becomes terribly apparent and he releases a gasp and wiggle of discomfort.

“I can see all this is turning you on, Alice. That’s a very good sign.”

As Honey teases him, she minces back to the closet and soon returns with a new bundle of ultra-feminine clothing. This is placed on the bed before Alan’s fascinated and appalled eyes. She then takes up a pair of very sheer, cream coloured tights and holds them before him.

“I’m sure you’ll love the feel of sheer hose against your smooth, hairless skin.”

Under her instruction, he then sits on the bed and watches as she carefully rolls the tights up into two soft nylon bowls and slips them over his feet. He is then told to stand and guide the tights up his legs. He takes the delicate, sensual fabric in his hands and fearfully pulls it upward, a leg at a time. The sensations imparted by the sheer nylon fabric as it covers his freshly denuded legs are, as Honey has promised, intensely pleasurable. Not only that, but as he pulls the tights up over his thighs and around his tightly restricted waist, he notices the tremendous effect they seem to have on the shape of his legs. Suddenly he is staring at the long, curvy legs of a young woman and, to his amazement, he is intensely aroused.

The tights are followed by a pair of incredibly frilly, white silk panties, which Honey positions around her charge’s hosed waist with a naughty little smile.

“You look fabulous already, Alice,” she teases, her eyes filled with an obvious sexual excitement. “I can’t wait to see you fully dressed. But first, let’s get you made up.”

Alan, now lost in a whirlpool of contradictory feelings and emotions, is led across the bedroom to the dressing table. As he moves, he becomes immediately aware of the intrusive but far from unpleasant effect of the anal plug. Suddenly waves of very powerful physical pleasure are traversing his lower body and forcing his erection to protest even more painfully against its wicked re-strainer. The effect of the soft nylon caressing his thighs as they brush together is also undeniably exciting, and as he is placed on the leather-backed stool before the dressing table’s large oval mirror, he is forced to stifle yet another moan of pleasure.

The face that stares back at him from this mirror is very obviously his own, yet beneath it is a body he doesn’t recognise. The well-padded corselette has an amazing and very immediate transformative effect, and as he beholds this strange reflection, a surprisingly powerful sense of femininity seizes him, a sense that is quickly and disturbingly increased as the lovely Honey, her eyes ignited by an obvious and deeply worrying sexual attraction, begins to apply make up to Alan’s ambiguously pretty face.

He can only watch with helplessly fascinated eyes as Honey applies a coating of tan foundation cream to his slender face, followed by a light blue eye shadow, then eyebrow highlighter, peach coloured rouge (daintily applied with a huge pink powder puff) and, finally, a blood red lipstick, which she glides ever so very gently across his effeminate mouth. And as Honey carefully works on his face, her stunning, delicately scented body so close, he feels his poor, tormented sex strain even harder against the intricate re-strainer and the layers of soft, teasing feminine underwear.

“Eventually,” Honey says, “you’ll be required to do this yourself, and to a very high standard. You will receive very detailed training in make up technique, so it should eventually become second nature.”

After completing the make up, she takes up an ivory handled hairbrush and begins to tease his long auburn coloured hair into a sculpture of particularly feminine locks. As she does so, poor Alan’s heart sinks, for the reflection he now faces is a terrible revelation: in just a few minutes, Honey has transformed him from an undoubtedly attractive male into a very pretty female, a brown eyed beauty with thick, wavy hair and soft, helplessly pouting lips, with soft, curving cheeks and a long, swan’s neck. The sense of despair this brings is made much worse by the sense of a deeper, darker excitement. Despite all his apparent resistance, there is clearly something lodged in the core of his personality that finds this forced feminisation highly erotic!

And even Honey is very impressed by the success of her first efforts.

“Well, Alice, you really are very pretty! No wonder your mummy wanted you put into panties and hose.”

In her soft voice there is pure sexual intent and in her lovely pale blue eyes there is intense desire. And, to his horror, the deeper feminine self that is now emerging from this strange transformation seems to find Honey’s attentions very exciting.

Alan is helped from the seat and led back to the bed, each step a sexual torment induced by the wicked anal plug and the counter efforts of the terrible re-strainer. He is then made to stand by the bed while Honey minces over to the closet. She returns a few seconds later carrying a beautiful pink dress. This she holds before her charge with a sexually charged and deeply amused smile.

The dress is made from pure silk, an elaborate baby girl’s hot pink frock with puffed sleeves, a very high collar and thick lace fringes at the neck, sleeves and very short hem. Attached to the bottom of the skirt area is a sea of lace froufrou petticoating.

Alan watches in astonishment and undeniable arousal as Honey carefully loosens the pearl buttons that run the entire length of the back panel and then steps forward, the dress held out before her.

“Hold your arms up and slide them into the dress,” she orders, gently pulling the gorgeous sissy frock over his shaking hands as he warily obeys.

He is immediately submerged in a sea of the softest silk and gasps with a sudden, fetishistic pleasure. The dress is drawn very slowly over his slender body and carefully pulled into place. As Honey secures the back panel buttons, poor Alan releases a helpless moan of absolute defeat, a moan made worse by the fact that the dress is a perfect fit. He also notices that it is extremely short, its petticoated skirt barely reaching the tops of his hosed thighs. It is also very tight around the waist and covers his expertly padded chest like a second skin. The frilled sleeves brush against his thin, girlish wrists and the lace frills of the high neck tickle his dimpled chin.

Yet this is only the beginning. For a few seconds after securing the dress, Honey produces a gorgeous white silk pinafore, which she proceeds to slip over the dress and secure tightly in a very fat bow at the base of his spine, immediately giving him the appearance of a very sissy maid. And as if this wasn’t enough, a pair of cream glace gloves are then stretched tightly over his hands and buttoned firmly into place.

Then, after this spectacular and soul destroying dressing, Honey produces a bright red box from beneath the bed and offers it to Alan.

“Open it,” she says, her voice filled with teasing expectation.

He obeys and finds himself looking down a pair of beautiful pink, patent leather ankle boots with frighteningly high stiletto heels and thick silk ribbon laces. Honey tells him to remove the shoes from the box and sit on the bed. She then gently takes the shoes from his hands and carefully kneels before him, a strange and beautiful gesture of elegant sissy submission. She then slips the incredible shoes over his delicately hosed feet. As she tightly laces up the shoes, he fights a sense of almost transcendent physical excitement. There is now no way he can resist the simple fact that he is thoroughly aroused by this forced feminisation and that a deep core of masochism and fetishism has been revealed by its strange progress.

Satisfied that the shoes are secured, Honey delicately rises to her own high-heeled feet and takes her charge by the hand. Encouraged by Honey, Alan steps fearfully onto his beautifully attired feet. Almost immediately, he is elevated an extra five inches into the air and a terrible sense of panic washes over him as he sways precariously before his gorgeous she-male captor.

“Relax, Alice. Let the heels find their own point of balance. Don’t fight them.”

Alan tries to follow these rather obscure instructions as Honey takes one of his gloved hands and leads him forward. Moaning fearfully, he totters towards her, the heels turning his walk into an embarrassing ultra-sissy mince that make his be-frilled buttocks sway with a helpless provocation and seem to push the anal plug even deeper into his backside. Yet even after just a few seconds, he finds himself becoming more comfortable with the shoes and beginning to understand the careful, delicate mince that is demanded by them. Within ten minutes, he is mincing with some ease before a clearly impressed Honey.

“You’re a natural, Alice! Well done!!”

And, to his amazement, her words fill him with a deeply perverse, contradictory pride. But this pride quickly disappears when Honey returns to the dressing table and takes from within its many drawers, two lengths of pink silk ribbon and a very large, pink rubber ball gag.

“Now that you’re ready to meet Mistress Angeline, we just need to secure you for the journey to her office.”

His eyes widen with fear and outrage as Honey orders him to open his pretty mouth wide and then quickly fills it with the fat ball, securing the gag tightly in place at the back of his neck using the white leather straps attached to the curved sides. He moans angrily into this mouth-filling monstrosity as his arms are then pulled behind his back
and tied very tightly together at the wrists and elbows. Yet even this humiliating bondage is not the end. For as soon as he is securely bound and gagged, Honey produces a thick white leather collar, which she proceeds to secure around his silk encased neck. She then attaches a long, silver link chain leash to a metal hook built into the front of the collar and tugs playfully upon it, causing poor Alan to totter forward desperately.

The hapless captive is then led by his beautiful tormentor back to the full-length mirror and cruelly paraded before it. Alan finds himself staring at a genuinely beautiful young woman wrapped in a startling baby maid’s costume, her honey brown eyes wide with fear and arousal, her long, very shapely legs balancing precariously in the high heeled boots, her well padded chest rising and falling desperately against the
tight material of the splendid dress.

“You’re one of the best we’ve had for a long time, Alice. How did you ever manage to pass as a boy?”

Honey’s question has a terrible ring of truth. He stares at his reflection and wonders how this gorgeous sissy creature, this bound and gagged and very beautiful damsel in distress could ever have truly been a male. Alan disappears before his astounded eyes and Alice is well and truly born. Indeed, he is now having difficulty perceiving anything about this startling image as Alan. She is most surely Alice. And as Honey leads her out of the room and into the corridor to meet the mysterious Angeline Lacey, out into a new and most bizarre life, as she wiggle minces behind this sexy she-male so convincingly, her mother’s words return to haunt her: yes, perhaps it is for her own good, perhaps she will be far happier as Alice.


Chapter 2

As she totters out of the room behind the lovely Honey, Alice becomes aware of a commotion. She looks up from the teasing sight of Honey’s long, black nylon sheathed legs to see, further down the corridor, a tall, redheaded woman in exactly the same ‘uniform’ as Miss Wilding. This woman is tugging angrily on a long silver leash. High-pitched squeals of pain and outrage flood from the room behind her. Then, to Alice’s surprise, a second Novice Maid is dragged into the corridor. Dressed in exactly the same intricate sissy pink outfit and also tightly trussed, the poor victim staggers desperately forward on her very high heels. Yet it is immediately obvious that this she-male is far more reluctant to accept her feminine future; for not only is she squealing furiously into her gag, but the chain pulling her forward leads not to her collared neck but beneath her sea of pretty, billowing petticoating and between her legs! On top of this, her head is covered by a black silk hood.

“Use the paddle, Pansy!” the redhead shouts, tugging even more aggressively on the chain. “On her thighs!”

A hand then emerges from the door behind the unfortunate Novice, a delicate, feminine hand with long, blood red fingernails clutching a long leather paddle. The paddle is brought down in one hard, angry slap against her victim’s very shapely, white-hosed thighs and an even louder squeal of fury escapes the hood. The Novice is then finally forced completely out of the door and begins very reluctantly to totter down the corridor.

The Novice is followed out of the room by another very beautiful, very sexy Graduate Maid, dressed exactly as Honey, yet she is slightly taller, her hair a stunning sea of thick, strawberry blonde waves, and her figure heavenly.

“Keep still, Alice,” Honey orders, an obvious excitement filling her little girl voice and lovely, arousal widened eyes. “Let Miss Leigh and Pansy deal with Nancy.”

Miss Leigh and “Pansy”, through a combination of further angry tugging and paddling, eventually manage to get the rebellious Novice to the end of the corridor and into the lift. As the doors close, Pansy turns to face Honey and the two gorgeous Graduates exchange a look of very deep and sensual love, a look that, to Alice’s utter horror, inspires a feeling of immediate and shockingly intense jealousy!

Once the lift doors close, Honey steps in front of Alice and proceeds to lead her down the corridor.

“Some of our Novice’s lack your reasonable manner, Alice. They resist feminisation, some quite aggressively, A complete waste of effort, of course. Unfortunately, it appears that Nancy will be a problem. But Miss Leigh is a specialist in difficult cases, and I’m sure she’ll make the silly sissy see the error of her ways.”

Alice whimpers into her gag and meekly follows her beautiful mentor down the corridor, the plug turning every step into an intricate sexual torture, her mind replaying the bizarre spectacle of Nancy’s fierce resistance and, in particular, the fact that the chain had been quite clearly attached to her sex, a thought that Alice finds both terrifying and deeply exciting, an excitement framed by the pleasure of the plug and the pain of the cock ring.

Soon, Honey and Alice are inside the now empty lift, which is filled with the powerful sweet perfume that all seem required to wear in this bizarre house of feminisation. Within a few minutes, Alice is being led back down the dark corridor of the first floor and into the main entrance hall of the large and very mysterious house that is home to the Lacey Academy.

The she-males cross the hallway. Alice’s pretty honey brown eyes take in the incredible spectacle of the vast, circular entrance hall, which is dominated at its centre by a startling white marble statute of a beautiful warrior woman clutching a bloodied spear.

Honey guides Alice over to a set of tall mahogany doors. She very gently knocks on on the highly polished wood and the doors slide open with an almost ghostly automation. Alice is then ushered into a large, ornate library, at one end of which is a long, elegant table. Sitting behind the table is a tall, gray haired woman. At her left side stand Aunt Holly and Miss Wilding, and to her right, Miss Lord and the third woman who had been present when Alice arrived at the house. Already standing a little way to the left of the table are Miss Leigh, Pansy and a still hooded and struggling Nancy.

Honey leads Alice over to the wiggling, squealing figure of Nancy, where she is made to stand to attention besides the very agitated and still defiant Novice. The gray haired woman then rises from the table and walks with a soul destroying authority up to the she-males.

Dressed in a long, tight, very simple black dress, black hose, and modestly heeled shoes, Miss Lacey is probably in her mid-fifties, nearly six feet tall, and with the voluptuous figure of a woman twenty years younger. Despite her gray hair, which is worn in a very stern bun, her long, regal face is relatively wrinkle free. Her eyes are a
bright emerald green and the gaze which shines from them is one of utter conviction and confidence, a gaze Alice finds herself fearfully avoiding. The woman’s cherry red lips bend into a rather cruel smile at the sight of Alice’s frightened shyness.

“I am Angeline Lacey, the Head Mistress,” she announces in a firm, deep, highly cultured voice. “Welcome to the Lacey Academy for Young Ladies.”

As she begins to speak, Miss Leigh steps forward and pulls the hood from Nancy’s head to reveal a very pretty, red haired she-male, her green eyes filled with tears, her make-up stained with the tracks these tears have cut across her very red, gag expanded cheeks. The poor sissy shakes her head angrily and blinks violently against the power of the mid-day sunlight. As soon as she sees Miss Lacey, she begins once again to squeal angrily into the fat ball gag. Pansy then steps forward and administers three very hard slaps to Nancy’s hosed thighs and the reluctant she-males squeals are reduced to gagged mumbles of anger.

“You are our latest recruits,” Miss Lacey continues, turning directly to face Alice. “Like many of our sissies, you have been committed to the Academy by your mothers. Alice, it appears, has been a very naughty little girl, even falling into the hands of the police. Her mother quite rightly wishes her behaviour to be modified, and she feels the most effective way to ensure this is by transforming her son into a sweet, obedient and completely submissive daughter.”

Alice’s eyes widen, her own anger becoming apparent.

“Nancy, on the other hand, has been sent to us to solve a different problem. It seems that, in her former male life, she was the sole heir to a rather large fortune, a fortune bequeathed by her father. He, unfortunately, recently passed away, and now her stepmother feels the fortune is rightly hers. Our task is therefore not just to create a suitably obedient and useful stepdaughter, but to ensure that this stepdaughter submits totally to her stepmother’s will and signs over her considerable assets to their rightful owner.”

Alice listens to this wicked story in utter amazement as more tears flood from Nancy’s eyes and her squeals of protest again increase in volume. Pansy steps forward and administers yet more slaps. Silenced, Nancy then listens angrily as Miss Lacey continues.

“I have been managing the Academy for five years. In that time I, and my specially chosen staff, have created nearly two hundred utterly submissive sissy maidservants, all of them once young men, none of them younger than 15 or older than 18, nearly all of them referred to me by mothers or other female relations.

We specialise in taking any young male and transforming him completely, both physically and mentally. I guarantee to all our clients successful feminisation within one year of arrival at the Academy.

Today you will join the other students currently on the road to a new and far more productive life. You will be subject to proven methods of intricate feminisation, constant, firm discipline and a psychological restructuring designed to ensure that you will become the daintiest, sissiest and most beautiful she-male slaves imaginable.

At first you will resist, you will dream of escape, you will look for a way back into your redundant male lives. But eventually, you will come to realise the futility of such thoughts and accept that there is no escape other than complete submission and acceptance.

You will spend the first four months as Novice Maids. During this period, we will concentrate on the removal of your masculine cravings and physical traits. This will involve intense humiliation and bondage therapy, regression treatment, movement and deportment training and surgical intervention. The Novice Period will be followed by four months as a Junior Maid. Here, having established your feminine personality and physique, you will undergo training in the domestic arts, plus much more detailed training in clothing and etiquette. You will also begin a course in feminine culture, which will include training in dance, music and art. The Junior Period will be followed by four months as a Graduate Maid. During this final phase, you will be allowed to apply what you have leant. This will be done by placing you on a work attachment for one month, by allowing you weekend visits to your home, and by requiring you to teach the Juniors in what we will identify as your specialist area of femininity. You will also be required to co-supervise the overall training of a Novice. Novice supervision is the most vital part of the Graduate Period, as it acts as an examination of all the skills you have learnt during the previous eight months. During this final phase, you will be assessed by your personal tutor, and it is she who will say whether or not you are ready to be returned to your parent or other guardian to act as a trained maidservant.”

Alice listens to this detailed description of her fate in utter astonishment and tears of despair begin to well up in her eyes. It is perhaps only now she that she realises there is absolutely no way back to her former life, that here Alan will be completely destroyed and replaced with a simpering, busty, ultra-sissy whose sole purpose is to serve her mistresses without question. Yet even as she considers this dreadful fate, her sex is stiffening and once more biting into its relentless metal re-strainer.

Nancy, however, is far less philosophical about her fate, and is now not only squealing desperately, but tossing her head from side to side and actually trying to kick out at Miss Lacey!

Miss Leigh then steps forward and slaps the wayward sissy violently across the face. The poor she-male staggers backward and then falls into the arms of Pansy.

“Sedate her,” Miss Lacey orders.

Alice watches as Miss Lord, following Miss Lacey’s instructions takes a small, rectangular metal box from the table and brings it over to the struggling, weeping Nancy, who is now being held firmly by Miss Leigh and Pansy.

The poor she-male’s tormented eyes widen even further as Miss Lord opens the box and takes from inside an evil looking hypodermic syringe. Pansy then hauls up the petticoating of the she-male’s lovely pink dress to reveal a firm, muscular, delicately hosed thigh. Miss Lord then tests the syringe with a wicked smile and poor Nancy’s ball gagged squeals rise an ear splitting octave as the lovely mistress leans forward and carefully pushes the fierce, gleaming needle through the sheer white nylon and into Nancy’s freshly denuded skin. As the drug is administered, Nancy’s eyes begin slowly but surely to glaze over and her struggles decrease significantly.

“The drug contains a rather powerful sex enhancer,” Miss Lacey explains, now directly facing a quickly fading Nancy. “As well as subduing you, it will significantly increase the production of the hormones that produce sexual excitation. You should feel the effects almost immediately.”

Sure enough, Nancy’s wiggles of protest slowly mutate into a strange snake dance of desire and her squeals of outrage transform into low moans of pleasure.

“The initial impact can be quite dramatic,” Miss Lacey continues. “You’ll be as hard as a rock for at least 12 hours.”

Amazed and appalled, her heart pounding with fear and excitement, Alice watches this transformation with wide eyes and a sense of her own impending subjection to the drug’s teasing effects.

“Yes, Alice,” Miss Lacey says, now concentrating her soul withering gaze on the more passive she-male. “You will be treated with the drug soon enough, but as you seem to be able to control yourself more effectively, we’ll leave your initiation until a more appropriate part of the induction process.”

Alice stares at the tall, imposing, attractive woman in utter horror, a horror made even more unsettling by the already powerful sense of sexual attraction she feels towards the regal, unforgiving headmistress.

Miss Lord returns to the table and Pansy is left to support a seemingly entranced Nancy.

“Honey and Pansy have been identified as your mentors,” Miss Lacey continues. They are both recently qualified Graduate Maids and will be responsible to your personal tutors for this first phase of your feminisation. Both sissies have satisfied their tutors that they are now able to function independently as she-male slave girls. You will treat them with the respect you would show a mistress. You should also note that they have the power to punish you as they see fit, so complete and absolute obedience is advised.

There are sixteen mistresses, divided into two groups. The first group, of which I am the head, is made up of the School’s senior managers. Each is known by her first name, prefixed by mistress. The second group, which is currently headed by Miss Pearl, comprises the school’s tutors. Each is known by their last name, prefixed by Miss. Each tutor is an expert in a particular area of the curriculum that is taught at the Academy. Each tutor has two personal tutees. Exceptionally, a manager may also decide to take on a tutee. As you have probably noticed, Nancy’s personal tutor is Miss Leigh; Alice’s personal tutor is Miss Wilding.

There are a total of twenty-four maids in training at any one time. Training progresses through bi-monthly rotations. This means that there every two months, four maids graduate and four new maids are admitted. The waiting list for admittance currently stands at over two hundred.

Tomorrow, we will formally admit the other two new maids on your rotation, which, as you may have guessed, we call the January rotation. The other 5 rotations take place in March, May, July, September and November respectively. Three of the four maids in your rotation will be trained together throughout the next twelve months. As the fourth has been committed to the baby maid programme, you will see her only periodically. Tomorrow will also see the graduation of the four maids who started on the January rotation twelve months ago.”

Despite the terrible implications of Miss Lacey’s words for Alice’s future, the recently created she-male cannot help but be impressed by this systematic approach to sissification. Basically, she is about to be placed on a production line capable of mass producing she-male maids at the rate of four every two months!

“Your personal tutors will explain the curriculum timetable in more detail later in the week,’ Miss Lacey, or rather Mistress Angeline, explains. “You will spend the rest of this morning being introduced to the Academy by your personal tutors and maid mentors. This afternoon, you will begin regression therapy.

My advice to both of you is to accept what has happened as a unique opportunity for personal salvation. By a stroke of very good fortune, you have been given the opportunity to escape the dreadful bonds of your sex and the terrible evil that dwells in its grim, black heart, the evil of violence and graven desire. Regard what is about to happen to you as a genuine rebirth from a life of illness into a life of health through absolute servitude to womankind.”

Alice listens to this coda to Mistress Angeline’s introduction and stares with some puzzlement into her cold, hard eyes. These are obviously the words of a woman who has had bitter experience of men and masculinity.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Mistress Angeline says, her shark eyes consuming the two unfortunate sissies with a glance of sudden, pure contempt. “If you should fail here, either to make the status of Graduate Maid or reach a level of performance that will allow you to be returned to your mothers, you will undergo a permanent sex change. Not only that, but you will also undergo a very special brain operation to ensure your permanent acceptance of your transformed state. Remember this when the doubts about your destiny torment your sissy minds. One way or another, at the end of the training period, your mothers will receive a well trained, utterly convincing and absolutely obedient maidservant.”

These terrifying final words bring a renewed, yet somewhat half-hearted squeal of protest from a dazed, now clearly very excited Nancy and a well-gagged gasp of fear from Alice. The two she-males are then led, tottering desperately in their pretty high heels, out of the library, back across the corridor and down into the strange underground chamber.

Nancy is taken back to her room in a state of some considerable disorientation, and Alice is soon once again standing before Miss Wilding and Honey in her own sissified chamber.

“Mistress Angeline has provided you with only a brief guide to the next twelve months,” Miss Wilding says, her tone bored, vaguely angry. “Over the next week you learn much more through simple first hand experience of the regime we enforce. Therefore, I have no intention of spending hours describing everything to you in grotesque detail. Honey will provide you with the basic details and I will elaborate as and when I see fit. Now, however, we must address the issue of your earlier disobedience, and that means a spanking. Honey, would you do the honours, please.”

The lovely Graduate Maid performs a deep curtsey, whispers a sexy, “Yes, mistress,” and then minces over to a set of glass panelled by the entrance to the bathroom. From inside, she takes a number of lengths of pink rubber coated cording. Smiling sweetly, she turns to face a somewhat disturbed Alice. Honey then quickly minces over to her charge and sets about binding her hosed ankles and knees together. The feeling of helplessness that this new bondage produces inspires a now familiar feeling of ambiguity. As her thighs as squeezed together, the phallus lodged so fiendishly in her backside is pushed even deeper and her moans turn from fear to helpless pleasure, and a cruel smile lights up Miss Wilding’s beautiful face.

“Yes, you like it, Alice. Just like they all like it, eventually. I suspect you’ll be a relatively straightforward case; a natural sissy. Don’t you, Honey?”

“Oh yes, mistress: Alice is certainly a natural.”

Once poor Alice is secured, Miss Wilding takes a tall leather backed chair from beside the cabinet and places it in the centre of the room. Alice is made to hop forward in her dainty, sexy high heels until she reaches the chair and is then quickly bent forward and spread face down across the hard leather seat by the beautiful blonde mistress.

“Various tools of flagellation will be used on you, Alice,” Miss Wilding explains, her sexy voice filled with a cruel arousal, “but you are about to meet my favourite: the leather paddle.”

Now facing the floor, tears of fear welling up in her pretty eyes, Alice feels Honey carefully raise her sweet, pink satin skirt and part the sea of white lace petticoating, thus exposing her tightly silk pantied behind to the cruel attentions of the wicked tutor. As a tear of terror drops onto the carpet, there is a sudden sharp noise as the paddle cuts brutally through the air and then, suddenly, the most appalling pain, a breath-stealing burst of fire that explodes on the surface of her pert backside and inspires a well-gagged squea1 of intense pain. And this is only the beginning: soon her helpless, slender bottom is wobbling like a particularly sexy strawberry jelly wrapped tightly in shimmering white silk, as Miss Wilding enthusiastically applies the paddle. Alice’s squeals become desperate sobs, tears pour from her eyes and create a small lake of despair on the carpet. She wiggles helplessly, she fights her inescapable bonds, she offers a gagged plea to the beautiful mother who has sentenced her to this terrible fate. Then, with her bottom raging like the pit of a volcano and her face covered in a film of tears, she is pulled back onto her high heeled feet to face her stern, unforgiving mistress.

“Once you have recovered, Honey will untie you and take you to the dinning hall. You will eat lunch and then begin your training in the nursery with Nancy and Mistress Alicia.”

The disorientation created by the continuing pain of the spanking prevents poor Alice from fully comprehending Miss Wilding’s words. It is only as Honey unties Alice and prepares the sobbing she-male beauty for her brief journey to the communal dining room, that the word ‘nursery’ begins to sound a loud, anxious alarm bell in her mind.

By the time, Miss Wilding has left and Honey has led a now unbound but still gagged Alice out into the main corridor, the intense heat of the hard, cruel spanking has begun to subside. But with the reduction in pain comes a stranger, perhaps more disturbing sensation. For the heat has not so much diminished as moved and changed, moved slowly but surely from the she-male’s tormented buttocks, between her legs and across her tightly re-strained sex, changing in the process from a very uncomfortable burning heat into a far from unpleasant and almost helplessly sexual warmth.

This deeply ambiguous development continues as Alice is led down the corridor to the dining room. Eventually Alice is brought to a dainty halt a few feet from a large metal door baring any further progress. Honey presses a large red button built into the right hand wall by the door. To Alice’s surprise, the door glides slowly open to reveal a further length of corridor. Again, on each side of the corridor there are doors, larger than the previous numbered doors and made from metal rather than wood. Instead of numbers, each is lettered.

This second stretch of corridor opens out into a much larger room, a circular dinning area. Indeed, the room is perfectly oval. There are four circular dinning tables positioned so as to make out a square within the circle, each with six plastic stools. Beyond the tables is a serving area, where a young woman in a tight white blouse and a very short black cotton skirt is carefully serving food to another Graduate Maid.

At the tables sit many of Alice’s fellow students, some dressed in the startling pink uniform of the Novice, some in the elegant black maid’s attire of the Graduates and some in a dark red variation of the Novice uniform. These, she realises, are the Juniors.

And yet this is not all; for in a corner of the room, under a deliberately bright spot light, are two very tall, adult sized high chairs, and strapped into these are two more she-males. But these two unfortunates are not wearing any recognisable academy uniform. Instead, they are dressed in the intricate and highly embarrassing costume of a baby girl, complete with be-frilled, puff sleeved satin dresses edged with inches of frou-frou petticoating, large, equally be-frilled bonnets, finger-less mittens, and gleaming patent leather Mary Janes, all in the same very bright yellow.

Their eyes are wide with profound discomfort; their faces are painted snow white, with a yellow rouge circle on each cheek. A wide yellow plastic plate has been tied into place over their mouths, a plate from which runs a thin, transparent tube. The tube leads down to a large, pint sized baby’s bottle placed on the table top fixed to each chair, a bottle filled with a semi-transparent white liquid, which is clearly running up the tube and into their stopped mouths. But even more bizarre is the fact that a further tube runs from the side of each bottle and down into a large silver box, which is resting on the ground between the two imprisoned captives. And from the box run two black coloured rubber tubes, which lead from the right and left sides of the box and up beneath the oceanic petticoating of the two helpless sissies.

“April and Grace have both been very, very naughty,” Honey whispers, guiding Alice over to one of the plastic tables. “The Recycler is a particularly nasty punishment used for only the most wayward sissies.”

Alice finds herself staring with a grim fascination at the two babified she-males. Their hosed ankles are bound to the front legs of the chair and their tightly mittened wrists are held in leather shackles that are connected to the chairs’ two, slender wooden arms. Tears of despair and horror pour from their pretty eyes, squeals of helpless disgust trickle from behind the thick plastic mouth plates. They struggle angrily against their bonds. But all to no avail.

“Initially,” Honey continues, helping Alice to lower herself onto one of the plastic stoolsls, “the liquid in the bottles is sugared milk laced with a powerful laxative. It is pumped up from the Recycler box, into the bottles and then, when the liquid in the bottles is at the right density, it is forced up into the mouths of the she-males. After a while, the laxatives have their inevitable effect and the sissy is forced to relieve herself. The tube that leads up into their petticoats is attached to a plastic and rubber nappy device, which collects their waste materials and sends them back down the tube and into the Recycler. Here the waste is carefully strained, processed and sterilised, and then added to a set proportion of the original formula. This new mixture is then returned to the bottles.”

Poor Alice’s eyes widen in utter terror as the true disgusting horror of the Recycler and the terrible fate of the two pretty, helpless struggling sissies dawns on her. She moans fearfully into her gag and tries to avoid staring further at the babified she-male prisoners, who are being force-fed their own excrement!

“We reserve the Recycler for only the most severe cases,” Honey continues, carefully removing Alice’s fat rubber ball gag. “April may be saveable, but I’m afraid there is very little chance that Grace will leave the Academy with her sex intact.”

Struck dumb by the fate of April and Grace, Alice can only stare at the gleaming plastic tabletop in blank fear as Honey minces over to the food-dispensing area. The gorgeous Graduate Maid returns with a plate of what appears to be orange coloured mashed potatoes, together with a large plastic glass filled with a thick pink liquid, and places them before her terrified charge.

“This will be your only required source of nourishment for the duration of your stay.”

As Alice warily takes up a large plastic spoon by the plate, and despite the grim spectacle being played out at the other end of the dining room, Alice takes a spoonful of the mashed potato-like food and slips it between her delicately painted lips. Expecting a foul, bitter taste, she is surprised to find that the food has a very pleasant savoury flavour. She then begins to consume the meal with some considerable enthusiasm, washing it down with the pink coloured liquid, which tastes almost exactly like the strawberry milk shake it so closely resembles.

“Slow down, Alice,” Honey scolds. “I expect far more restrained, feminine table manners.”

Alice attempts to obey her beautiful she-male mentor, but hunger makes this very difficult and the lovely she-male quickly finishes the meal.

It is only as she empties the plastic glass, that she becomes aware of the other she-males sitting at her table, two novices and a junior. The Junior, in her striking cherry-coloured uniform, is a dark eyed beauty with striking nut brown hair, who is taking tiny mouthfuls of her food with ultra-feminine, intensely graceful gestures, her gorgeous hazel-green eyes cast modestly down at her plate, her large, perfectly shaped breasts straining against the tight satin material of her uniform.

Looking at this impressive beauty, Alice feels her sex stiffen and begin to fight its fiendish re-strainer. The gorgeous she-male then looks up and unleashes a shy, but unmistakably aroused smile that further inflames the new Novice’s confused passions.

“It’s rude to stare, Alice,” Honey scolds. “Although I can’t blame you for staring at Petal; she’s a particularly fine specimen.”

Alice quickly averts her eyes, but she soon finds herself helplessly drawn to the eyes of many of the other she-males currently occupying the dining room, a mixture of all three categories, and all with that same strange, sex hungry look, a look she has seen so clearly in the eyes of Honey and Pansy and, after the injection, in Nancy; a look that seems to say ‘I want sex with you and every other being on the planet’, a look that Alice, to her deep, increased confusion, finds intensely exciting.

Alice notices that only the Novices are accompanied by Graduate mentors, most of whom are also eating. The Juniors and the Graduates all have considerable, tightly restrained breasts, which they seem to be very proud of, and at which poor Alice finds herself staring with considerable envy. Although the Novice’s have padded chests, the uniforms worn by the Juniors and the Graduates have plunging necklines which make the authenticity of their bosoms all too delightfully apparent. But Alice’s envy is lessened by the thought that she, too, will soon have a large, sensitive bosom, a thought that, perhaps strangely, inspires little fear, but rather a great deal of excited anticipation. What is happening to me? she thinks, as her sex battles the unforgiving re-strainer.

As soon as she has finished the meal, she is tightly re-gagged and then led from the room, her eyes drinking up as many of her fellow sissies as possible as she rises and follows her gorgeous mentor.

As she approaches the exit, her pretty sissy eyes move from the vast variety of she-male beauties, many of whose hungry gazes are following this new, particularly sexy slave, to the long, black hosed legs of the lovely Honey. Suddenly, these perfectly shaped, elegantly displayed legs appear even more exciting, and as she minces daintily forward, she becomes much more aware of the effect the teasing sissy clothing is having on her body. Where previously fear and humiliation had blocked out the tactile delights of the wide variety of soft and deeply fetishistic materials imprisoning her body, now she is very much aware of their profound, intensely arousing impact.

As she totters behind Honey, she feels the plug slip deeper into her anus and a moan of helpless pleasure fight to escape her gagged mouth, a moan also inspired by the sweet caress of the delicate sheer nylon imprisoning her long, always feminine legs, by the sissy rustle of her pretty petticoats, by the kiss of expensive, highly erotic satin
on her arms and neck, by the tight, teasing grasp of the body shaping corselet against her slender she-male torso.

She feels almost overwhelmed by a wave of powerful, all pervasive desire. Her tightly re-strained erection stretches furiously against its soft nylon and hard steel prison, a terrible, burning sex heat begins to spread from her sex across her body. She feels her painted face flush and momentarily staggers as she minces back into the corridor.

Honey, hearing Alice’s moans, turns to face her.

“Try and relax, Alice. It’s the sex drug taking effect. The food and drink is laced with it, for all of us. It’s only in small doses, but if you’re not used to it… well, I don’t need to tell you that the effect can be somewhat distracting.”

As Alice tries to control this rising tide of desire, she is led up to one of the larger metal doors, upon which a large red C is printed. The door slides open and Honey leads her sex disoriented charge inside.

If the dining room seemed bizarre, what Alice discovers before her in room C is both frightening and truly surreal. For she is in what appears to be a gigantic nursery, a vast rectangular room painted a very bright sissy pink, lit by very bright, white strip lighting, and covered in a very thick, snow white carpet.

Down one side of the room is a row of giant wooden playpens, all empty except one, which contains a wildly struggling, disturbingly familiar she-male secured in the fantastic, deeply humiliating costume of a baby girl. To the left of the playpens are a variety of tables covered in the terrible items of babification: plastic bottles with fat rubber teats, dummies, nappies, plastic pants, strange rubber tubes, a bizarre variety of toys, bibs (some rubber, some cloth). Beyond the tables is a large, oval shaped area of black rubber matting and by this what appear to be two lengths of metal chains dangling from bolts built into the ceiling. By the chains, there are two strange metal frames, hanging from which are plastic bags filled with a very thick white liquid. And beyond the frames is a set of wooden sliding doors built directly into the side of the wall, a kind of vast closet that runs for some twenty odd feet down the room to another table, a table behind which sits a large, very beautiful black woman dressed in the tight blue uniform of a nurse.

Staring in amazement at the equipment on the tables, trying to come to terms which this ultra-bizarre torture chamber, poor Alice is led down the centre of the room towards the plump black matron, who is now regarding the new arrival with a smile of amused contempt.

“The other new trainee, I take it,” the lovely woman says, her deep, American accented voice filled with a teasing irony.

Honey draws up before the desk with Alice at her side and performs a deep curtsey, making sure to reveal her long, nylon sheathed legs right up to the sexy edge of her be-frilled panties. The woman’s gleaming, dark brown eyes study Honey’s legs with an erotic appreciation and her friendly smile widens.

“Alice, Mistress,” Honey purrs, eyes cast down modesty at her pretty high heeled feet. “The second Novice, admitted earlier today.”

“Well, she’s a gorgeous little thing. It seems we’ve got two real sissy beauties this time. But I hope Alice is better behaved than Nancy.”

Alice’s gaze is then led away from the beautiful matron to the nearest playpen and to the struggling, squealing sissy imprisoned within it, a sissy she quickly recognises as poor, apparently still defiant Nancy. Yet this is Nancy in an even more humiliating and extreme form of sissification: Nancy as a dainty, bonneted and booted baby girl!
Nancy, dressed in a spectacular powder blue baby girl’s dress of very expensive silk, heavily frilled at the puffed sleeves, very short skirt and very high neck with inches of white lace. A dress covered in a pattern of beautiful silk roses. A dress from which explodes a shocking mass of semi-transparent petticoats. And beneath these petticoats is a pair of pale blue plastic panties covering a very thick and obviously very uncomfortable adult-sized nappy.

Nancy’s long legs are wrapped in sheer white stockings, held in place high at her thighs by white elastic garters decorated with pale blue teddy bears. Over her head has been secured a huge powder blue silk bonnet, its wide edges decorated with a beautifully intricate flower pattern which matches that of the dress, a bonnet held in place beneath her dimpled chin by two thick powder blue silk ribbons tied in huge sissy bow. Her face has been covered in a snow-white foundation and a circle of pale blue rouge has been added to each cheek, as well as matching eye shadow. The decoration of her lips is unclear, as a large pacifier has been forced into her mouth and tied tightly in place with more matching ribbons.

She is sitting in a kneeling position, her arms bound behind her back at her elbows and wrists, her legs also tethered at her knees and ankles. Finger-less, powder blue silk mittens have been tied to her hands and matching booties cover her feet. A length of cord has been tied to the cord binding her wrists and then bound tightly to her trussed ankles, thus forcing her into a kneeling hog-tie position. Her lovely blue eyes are filled with tears. Yet these are tears of fear and despair, not anger, as if she is in pain or some extreme form of discomfort, and her well gagged squeals and desperate bouncy wriggling testify to some dreadful, ongoing abuse or torture.

“Miss Leigh has prescribed a double dose of the sex drug and sent her to me without any lunch, and still she’s resisting. She told me Pansy spanked an entire layer of skin off her arse!’

The matron’s words draw Alice’s eyes back to this bold, plump black beauty. She has risen from the table and is now standing only a few feet from the lovely, anxious she-male. The blue cotton uniform is pulled tight across her ample but still very shapely and sensual form. She is nearly six feet tall thanks to a pair of white stiletto heeled court shoes, and is wearing a pair of opaque white tights which show off her long, surprisingly statuesque legs to a distracting perfection. A wide, thick, white leather belt traverses her considerable waist and serves to accentuate even more her extremely large breasts, which appear about to burst out of the uniform.

Yet perhaps her most striking feature is her face. Despite her generous figure, she has a perfectly shaped, exquisitely angular face, with a very firm jaw and long, golden brown cheeks. Her very large, beautifully shaped lips are painted blood red and seem to sparkle under the powerful white light that fills the room. Then there are her gorgeous eyes: two sensual, golden brown pools of stern desire that seem to radiate both a helplessly erotic maternal concern and the terrifying power of a true dominatrix. And finally, there is her hair, a beautifully sculpted mass of thick black locks that flow down over her shoulders like a river of purest jet and serves to brilliantly complement the perfect shape of her face, as do a pair of gleaming diamond stud earrings.

Before this stunning woman, Alice feels both truly humbled and utterly helpless; yet there is something else here, something that is tormenting her stocking and metal imprisoned sex to a particularly severe degree. Perhaps it is only the sex drug, but Alice feels a fundamentally overwhelming sexual attraction to this woman, who is now staring at her with a look now undermined by something that just might be surprise.

“I am Mistress Maria, the regression therapist and School Matron.”

Almost instinctively, Alice performs a slight, very sweet curtsey and Rose Marie’s lovely smile widens.

“My, my. You are an instinctive little thing.”

Maria then turns to Honey. “You can leave,” she snaps, still staring directly into Alice’s eyes. “I’m sure Alice won’t be any trouble.”

Honey smiles in a slightly conspiratorial manner, curtsies, spins elegantly around on her high heels and minces sexily from the room, leaving poor Alice staring fearfully at Maria’s lovely, white leather stilettos, the sex heat still frying every inch of her helpless sissy form.

“Each Novice begins her journey into sissidom with a thorough cleansing, both of her body and her mind, through extended periods of regression therapy. Over the next week, we will be spending a lot of time together, Alice – at least 3 hours each afternoon, and longer, if I feel it is necessary.”

Alice finds her eyes climbing the startling, generous form of Mistress Maria as the impressive beauty details the she-male’s fate.

“We will begin with an enema. Your plug will be removed and your anus greased, then you will receive four pints of a special internal cleansing solution. Then you will be nappied and fully babified, bound, gagged and left with Nancy. You will be left for an hour. If you are able to retain your cleaning load for this period, you will be returned to your room and given special advanced credit, which will allow you to skip regression therapy altogether. As your anus will have been greased with a very annoying skin irritant, it is very doubtful if you will be able to hold on to your load for more than ten to fifteen minutes. This is rather unfortunate, because failure to hold on guarantees full regression therapy and, in the short term, a very sound spanking followed by cleaning duties in the laundry.”

Mistress Maria smiles broadly as her description of the afternoon inspires a look of terrified disgust in the poor sissy, a look made even more desperate as the lovely sissy’s eyes wander back to the squealing, sobbing, wiggling form of babified Nancy.

Mistress Maria then very carefully begins to remove Alice’s clothing, stripping her down to her stockinged, re-strained sex and tight ball gag with surprising speed. The beautiful, plump beauty’s eyes widen as Alice’s sex is revealed and her smile turns from one of ironic amusement to a deep, intense pleasure.

“Well, for such a petite little sissy, you’re very well hung,” she says, moving closer to Alice.

Then, to the she-male’s utter amazement, she runs a long, cherry red nailed index finger down the stiff, curving, nylon sheathed shaft.

“Does that feel good, babikins?” whispers, her eyes burning into Alice’s, her voice like honey coated sex, her generous breasts pressing against Alice’s silken, perfectly flat chest, her powerful musk perfume overwhelming the she-male’s desperately flaring nostrils.

Alice moans hopelessly, helplessly, hungrily into her fat rubber ball gag, returning Maria’s tormenting stare with a look of savage animal need and absolute surrender.

“I think you and I are going to become very good friends, Alice. Very good.”

Alice can only moan louder and then nod desperately, pushing her sex sluttishly against this new, marvellous mistress.

Mistress Maria laughs at this gesture and then playfully slaps Alice’s pert, helplessly wiggling backside. She then forces the lovely she-male to turn away from her and bend over. Within a few, ecstatic seconds, the anal plug has been pulled from her backside and she is once again facing the imperial beauty.


Yet pleasure quickly turns to trepidation and then to genuine fear as Alice is led onto the rubber matting and beneath the strange metal frames and chains. Maria orders Alice to put her arms behind her back and then grasps the two chains, the ends of which are fused together into what appears to be a giant, finger-less, black rubber glove. She then proceeds to slip the glove over Alice’s crossed wrists and tie it in place with two lengths of rubber cording attached to the glove’s sleeve. Once the glove has been secured, Mistress Maria kneels down. Alice’s pretty, frightened eyes follow her and watch in further astonishment as she pulls two leather shackles from holes in the rubber matted floor, shackles attached to two very short lengths of chain, which are perhaps four feet apart. She grasps Alice’s slender left ankle and quickly imprisons it within the corresponding shackle. She then repeats this process with the she-male’s right ankle, pulling the sissy’s legs painfully apart as she does so.

Satisfied that Alice is properly secured, the beautiful mistress then returns to teasing her she-male captive’s arching, tormented sex, her smile one of pure sex.

Leaving Alice’s squealing frantically into the ball gag and her sex wobbling furiously in its stocking sheath as if begging for more attention, Maria turns and pushes a large red button set into the wall just opposite the sinister metal frame. To Alice’s utter horror, the chains begin to move and suddenly her arms are being pulled upward. This forces her torso forward and stretches her into a painful bending position, which in turn forces her legs even wider apart and leaves are stretched buttocks open to Maria’s now rubber gloved hands. Within seconds, the poor she-male is bent painfully forward, her arms pulled so tightly behind and upward that they feel as if they are about to pop out of their shoulder sockets. And as tears as discomfort pour from her beautiful eyes, the gorgeous mistress suddenly disappears from her blurred view.

“First the irritant cream, then the enema,” Mistress Maria whispers, her silken voice filled with a deeply cruel passion.

Rubber sheathed fingers then slip between Alice’s pert, helplessly twitching buttocks. Alice moans with a deeply embarrassing, but inescapable pleasure, as Maria gently caresses the walls of the sissy’s arse with a rubberised index finger, probing deep into the her anus and coating its soft, virgin walls with a cool, thick cream.

Maria then applies a hard slap to Alice’s wiggling bottom. “Calm down, girl – you’re way too frisky. I can see you’re going to need plenty of my very special attention.”

Eventually, the finger is removed. Alice then listens fearfully as the gorgeous mistress pulls the strange metal frame holding the plastic bag closer to her painfully restricted form, her stockinged, tightly restrained and rock hard sex now pressing angrily into her flat, silky smooth stomach. Then she feels a hard rubber tube being pressed against the tip of her anus. She squeals into the gag once again, a squeal that suddenly rises in pitch as the tube meets resistance and is pushed much harder. Poor Alice struggles desperately in her bonds, pleading uselessly in her gag, and tears return to her eyes as the tube is shoved through the wall of resistance and then deep into her back passage.

Feeling as if she has been split in two, it is only a matter of seconds before a warm liquid is being pumped down the tube and into her bowels. Then it is only minutes before her bowel is filled painfully and her stomach, bent forward as it is, takes on the look and feel of a rubber bag filled to bursting point.

“When I remove the tube, you will have an immediate urge to evacuate your bowels. If you do this, you will be returned to the dining room and spend the next 24 hours hooked up to the recycler.”

Maris’s cold, hard words strike a terrible, black fear deep into Alice’s sissy soul, and as the tube is pulled free she fights the very powerful desire to relax her sphincter muscle. But no sooner has the tube been removed than something long and soft is being inserted in its place, a strange, clay like substance.

“Body wax,” Maria explains, carefully filling her terrified captive’s back passage with the pink, play-doe like material. “It will prevent any little accidents while I dress you. Your body heat will cause it to melt to liquid over a period of about 20 to 30 minutes; then you’re on your own. Nancy has about 10 minutes or so left.”

Alice bends her neck painfully to make out the struggling, squealing form of poor Nancy and her bloated stomach bubbles with genuine fear. Once the wax has been packed into place, Maria carefully frees her charge from the bizarre sissy bondage and then begins the process of complete babification.

With her stomach now a dull led weight and her buttocks stretched wide by the wax, Alice finds herself waddling painfully behind the stunning Maria, following her towards the long wardrobe.

Maria slides open the nearest wardrobe door to reveal a startlingly vast array of adult sized baby wear. Dresses, night clothing, romper suits, pinafores and petticoats dangle by golden hangers from silver bars stretched the entire length of the wardrobe. Open drawers beneath the hanging clothes are filled with nappies, plastic panties, stockings, tights, booties. At least ten wig stands rest on top of the drawers, each holding a beautiful, incredibly intricate an individually coloured satin and silk bonnet. Before the stunned sissy is a positive cornucopia of infantile attire, a spectacular jungle of baby femininity whose single aim is the humiliation, subjugation and transformation of the wayward male.

Maria then selects a thick, very large cream coloured nappy from one of the draws. Ordering Alice to spread her legs apart (a rather difficult act, given the sissy’s unfortunate circumstances), she then slides the nappy under the she-male’s still highly excited, tightly restrained sex and begins to wrap it very tightly around her slender waist. Once satisfied that the nappy is properly positioned, Maria then produces a huge golden safety pin and uses it to hold the thick towelling firmly in place.

Alice, of course, feels utterly ridiculous, but the close proximity of Maria and the constant waves of pleasure created by the sex drug ensure that her humiliation is constantly undermined by an increasingly brutal desire.

After the nappy, she is helped into a pair of delicate, very fine white nylon stockings that are secured in place around her upper thighs by two white-lace frilled, elastic garters decorated with silk teddy bears. The stockings are themselves decorated in a sea of sparkling silver stars and the poor sissy is enraptured both by their feel and by the effect they have on her long, helplessly feminine legs. And after the stockings come a pair of white, semi-transparent plastic panties, frilled at the wide legs and waist with white-lace, and with a tight, elastic waist-band, panties that stretch over the nappy and then snap neatly into place just beneath her navel.

To Alice’s relief, there is no corset. Indeed, the thought of being tied into a corset with her bowels so painfully full does not bare further thought. However, there is a short, be-frilled camisole made from a very thin, expensive white silk, which falls over her body like a coat of pure sex and inspires a very loud baby squeal of pleasure.

And after the camisole comes the most incredible baby girl dress, a large, pink satin masterpiece of sissification, with huge puffed sleeves, a very high, button up, be-frilled neck and a very short skirt layered with a swirling ocean of beautiful frou-frou petticoats.

As Maria pulls the dress over Alice’s head and lets it drop down her new slave’s slender she-male form, a look of genuine surprise fills her dark, sensual eyes.

“My, my, Alice, you really are a stunner. I’ve never seen one like you. The sissies will be fighting to make you happy.”

It is then that Alice looks up directly into Maria’s eyes. If she were un-gagged now, she would make it clear that she would do any thing for this regal black beauty, yet her eyes, her gorgeous, honey brown eyes, say all that needs to be said: I am yours, completely.

Maria releases a weak, yet warm smile and carefully straightens her charge’s gorgeous sissy dress. And it just after this haunting, sex drenched exchange that Alice becomes aware of the heat spreading along her anal passage, a heat that brings with it an uncomfortable and increasing itching. Her eyes widen, a fearful moan slips from her gag. Maria’s smile changes, becomes more confident, a little crueller.

“I see the cream is taking effect. It’ll be rather uncomfortable for quiet a while, but there’s no real threat until the wax melts. Then, it just hastens the inevitable.”


Despite the increasing discomfort, the helpless, babified sissy finds herself staring up at the stunning Maria with an even greater, stronger desire, and her look of adoration is repaid by a wider, warmer smile and the teasing production from one of the many drawers of a huge baby’s pacifier. Alice’s eyes widen with an exquisite mixture of trepidation and excitement as the true nature of this kinky device is revealed. The pacifier’s teat is very long, maybe 4 inches, very wide, maybe over an inch, and fully ribbed. Not only this, but it is shaped exactly like a phallus! Set on a powder pink plastic base, it rises before Alice like a totem of the she-male cult this strange place has been built to serve. Two long lengths of pink silk ribbon run from each side of the curved plastic base, and Alice watches with trembling awe as the gorgeous Maria places the dummy on the table by the frame and then very gently works free the buckle of the fat ball gag currently filling the sissy’s mouth. Then, she carefully pulls the gag from Alice’s mouth.

“You’ve got very beautiful lips, Alice. It seems a shame to keep you gagged, but I’m sure you prefer it that way. And I’m sure you’ll like the pacifier. A little taste of what’s to come.”

Puzzled by the last sentence, Alice watches as Maria takes the pacifier from the table and steps up very close to the sissy’s babified form. Smiling gently, the startling jet beauty slips the curved tip of the teat between Alice’s rose petal lips and pushes it gently but deeply into her mouth. Alice quickly finds her mouth filled in a most erotic manner and her eyes widen with a mixture of surprise and masochistic excitement. The ribbed edges of the pacifier-gag press her tongue flat, and the curved tip presses against the back of her throat. She instinctively bites down on it as Maria pulls the two silk ribbons behind her head and then ties them in a very tight bow at the base of her neck.

The pacifier is an even more effective, but much more arousing gag, and the sissy whimpers with pleasure as Maria stands back to admire her handiwork. She then returns to the wardrobe. As Alice’s erection strains that little bit harder against the fiendish re-strainer, Maria takes the most beautiful of the bonnets from its stand and brings it over to her lovely charge. It is made from a beautiful pink silk, heavily frilled at its puffed edges with very fine, exquisitely detailed French lace, and with a very beautiful, but barely perceptible pattern of white silk roses sown into its gorgeous fabric. A long white silk ribbon runs from each of the frilled bottom flaps.

Moaning helplessly into the pacifier gag, Alice feels a shiver of ecstasy run through her intricately babified form as Maria, a smile of triumph laced with obvious sexual arousal lighting up her beautiful face, carefully slips the bonnet over the she-male’s pretty head. She then gently pulls the flaps under her chin and ties them tightly in place with the two ribbons, creating a huge, gloriously sissy bow just beneath Alice’s sweet, dimpled chin.

As Alice squirms with the strange mixture of physical discomfort and extreme pleasure that her babification inspires, Maria returns to the wardrobe, where she takes a pair of white silk booties from one of the drawers and brings them over to her tormented charge. With an unusual elegance, she lowers herself onto her knees and helps Alice slip her stockinged feet into the lovely booties, which are then tied tightly in place with white, silk ribbon laces. The booties are quickly followed by matching, fingerless mittens, which Maria pulls over her charge’s delicate, feminine hands and then ties in place with more silk ribbons sown into the puffed fabric of each mitten sleeve. The gorgeous black mistress then rises gracefully to her high-heeled feet, steps back and considers her sissy creation.

“You look fabulous, Alice. If I were your mummy, you’d stay in nappies permanently.”

Alice blushes and then allows Maria to guide her over to the playpens. The she-male finds herself struggling to walk in the slippery booties, an effort made much worse by now burning irritation in her anus, plus the wax plug and the large amount of liquid filling her bowel.

Maria guides her sissy captive to the playpen that is directly opposite the one containing a still struggling, squealing Nancy.

“It took three of us to get little Nancy ready,’ Maria says, opening the gate of the playpen and guiding Alice inside. “But you’ve been a perfect sissy.”

Maria then orders Alice to place her mittened hands behind her back. The sissy, her eyes now pinned to the wiggling, moaning form of poor Nancy, obeys. As Maria then proceeds to take a number of lengths of white rubber coated cording from a large pocket in her uniform, Nancy’s tear-stained eyes clamp onto Alice, eyes filled with anger, discomfort and despair, eyes that fill Alice with a sense of helpless sympathy. Yet Nancy, very beautiful, undoubtedly very sexy, also inspires a deep feeling of desire, a desire that disturbs in exactly the same way as her feelings for the stunning Honey disturb. And, despite the anger and pain, Alice can see a similar ambivalent desire in Nancy’s eyes, a desire fighting itself, a desire stoked by the formidable power of the sex drug coursing through her expertly sissified body.

Alice feels the first cord wrap around her satin covered wrists. As her wrists are forced together and tied in place she feels a lightning bolt of pleasure strike her sex and moans into the dummy gag. Once her wrists are secured, Maria uses another cord to bind her elbows very tightly together, producing an initial winch of pain that flows into another moan of pleasure.

“I see you like being tied up, Alice,” Maria teases, before carefully kneeling down and quickly binding the lovely she-males ankles and knees.

Alice, lost in masochistic excitement, can only moan louder and nod slightly, surprised by the intensity of her reaction to this highly erotic bondage.

Once firmly bound, the she-male is then very carefully helped down onto her knees, so that she is directly facing Nancy through the bars of the playpen. Then, just like Nancy, Maria uses a final cord to tie her tethered ankles to her trussed wrists and thus force her into a very tight, inescapable kneeling hog-tie that makes any kind of movement in any direction utterly impossible. Thus immobilised, the bonnet forcing her into a silk lined tunnel vision, she stares at Nancy, her eyes wide with desire, despite the fact that she is almost immediately aware that the pressure placed on the body wax plug by the hog-tie is causing the plug to melt much faster.

Then something is being placed over her face, a strange mask of some kind. In fact, it is a surgical operating mask, or something very similar, a mask, which covers her face from just below her pretty honey brown eyes to her beribboned chin. Suddenly, the heady musk perfume of Maria fills her helplessly flaring nostrils.

“Things are going to get very smelly round here very quickly, babikins. So, seeing how you’ve been such a well-behaved sissy, I thought this protective mask might relief the considerable discomfort you’re about to endure. The perfume is my own. I hope you like it.”

As Maria ties the mask in place, Nancy begins to squeal angrily into her dummy gag and shake her head furiously.

“No, not for you, little Nancy,” Maria scolds. “You’ve been very naughty, and now its time for your punishment. The quicker you learn that obedience is rewarded, the faster you’ll fit in around here.”

Maria then gets to her feet and leaves the playpen, closing and locking the gate behind her.

“I’ll be back in an hour,” she says, her voice trailing off as her heels click down the nursery back towards the main door.

The sound of the door closing and locking is the sound of doom for poor Nancy; for almost as soon as Maria has left, the lovely she-male’s struggles suddenly lessen considerably. Alice watches in horror as strange, vaguely disgusting sounds begin to echo from her bowels. Nancy’s eyes widen, she squeals uselessly into her fat gag, pleading for an impossible mercy. Huge tears flood from her eyes. All signs of anger and resistance fade, to be replaced by an intense, confessional sissy fear. Then there are a series of sickeningly flatulent eruptions followed by a huge explosion, the terrible sound of Nancy involuntarily evacuating her bowels, a prolonged, painful sound that fills Alice with nausea and terror. Despite the powerful scent lining the mask, the smell becomes almost immediately apparent and she finds herself fighting back the urge to vomit. Then, suddenly, it is over, the festering stink the only remnants of a truly disgusting and utterly humiliating spectacle, a spectacle named Nancy, a spectacle that has now become a vision of utter defeat, a moaning, sobbing, pacifier gagged sissy stewing in her own pungent waste, her head bowed, her body racked by spasms of embarrassment and self-hate.

This, Alice realizes, is how they destroy the will.


As Nancy continues to sob, as the smell cuts at the edges of Alice’s scented nostrils, the wax in her own back passage final slips out into the nappy and quickly soaks into the tough, absorbent material. As it does so, the effect of the irritant cream becomes much stronger and Alice now finds herself instinctively struggling to keep the lake of liquid in her own bowels from exploding out in more or less the same deadly manner as has just overwhelmed poor Nancy.

As Alice wiggles desperately to control her bowels, Nancy slowly looks up, drawn from her own despair by the sounds of her companion’s suffering. Tears still pour from her eyes, but behind this flood there is a deep, sickened disgust, a cloud of utter contempt that is slowly but surely striping away the tough skin of resistance Nancy has so far placed between herself and her forced feminisation. Then a huge, dreadful pressure of gas suddenly builds up in Alice’s bubbling bowels.

Her eyes widen, she squeals into the gag. She bounces and wiggles. Nancy squeals in sympathy, knowing that the coming evacuation will make the dreadful smell now torturing every inch of her feminised form twice as bad. Then Alice is forced to let the gas escape, a hideously loud fart that heralds the great flood of liquid and waste matter, a flood that explodes out of her backside like a tidal wave, a wave accompanied by more appalling gaseous trumpet blasts and a series of very high pitched squeals of despair from both the tightly bound and gagged sissies.

It is as if her very insides have been loosened and then ripped out. A terrible sense of physical helplessness, of lost control, is followed by an awareness of the even greater stink, a stink that completely overwhelms the protective mask and plunges Alice into a void of horror and self-loathing, a void bordered by the dreadful physical discomfort
Induced by the totally flooded nappy, a void she and Nancy share for the next 50 awful minutes, their tear filled eyes rarely meeting, their protests and struggles dimmed by the inescapable horror of their plight.

And then, after this eternity of suffering, this fifty minutes hell, they hear a door open and heels clicking. Almost immediately, the two desperately humiliated and tortured sissies unleash a series of panic stricken gag distorted squeals and perform a ballet of angry wiggles. Then the gate to Alice’s playpen is being opened and hands are soon untying her wrists and elbows. A graduate maid steps into her picture frame view of Nancy. It is Pansy, her lovely face covered by a protective mask, a look of total disgust filling her beautiful eyes; Pansy carefully untying Nancy.

Soon, the hands are freeing Alice’s knees and ankles. Then, she is being helped to her feet, an act made particularly unpleasant by the full to bursting point nappy. The hands rest on her shoulders and gently, almost gingerly, guide her out of the pen. Nancy has now also been freed and is being led out of her pen by Pansy. Soon the two
very uncomfortable she-males are being led down to the back of the nursery, and eventually they find themselves before another large metal door. Pansy pushes another plastic button built into an opposite wall and the door slides open to reveal a very large communal shower area, a long, pink tiled, rectangular room, with silver shower units set every four feet or so down its entire length.

The sissies are guided into the middle of the sparkling room. Alice is turned completely around and finds herself facing a masked Honey, a pained look tormenting the Graduate maid’s beautiful eyes.

“You will be stripped down to your plastic panties. When we leave, you will remove Nancy’s panties and nappies and then clean her with soap and water. She will then repeat the process on you. Use the bin to discard the dirty nappies and the panties. When you are cleaned and dried, press the button by the door. You will be watched via a close circuit camera, so it is advisable to follow my instructions to the letter. If you do not, you will immediately receive a further enema and suffer the consequences.”

Both sissies listen to Honey’s words with a growing sense of desperation, which is made worse as the Graduates then proceed very reluctantly to strip the babified she-males down to their plastic panties and nappies. The lovely bonnets and dummy gags are left tied tightly in place. Then the Graduates take a bundle of the clothing each, spin round on their gleaming heels and leave the room, the metal door sliding shut behind them.

Alice and Nancy face each other, both looking quite ridiculous in only the plastic panties and nappies, their sissy faces framed by the sweet bonnets, their mouths firmly stopped by the dummy gags. Nancy, her intricately made up face now a sheet of tears and torment, appears petrified by the prospect of cleaning Alice, and she is shaking with fear and loathing. Alice, although equally appalled, is far more frightened of another enema and steps forward to remove Nancy’s plastic panties. Nancy’s eyes widen and a squeal of refusal fights its way out of the gag. Given the increasingly bad smell and her own discomfort, Alice is in no mood to negotiate, and she steps forward suddenly, grabs one of Nancy’s slender, silken arms and forces it behind her back. Surprised by her own firmness, an act of total desperation, Alice then holds the petite she-male as she grabs the lace edged hem of the plastic panties and then struggles to pull them down Nancy’s long, very shapely legs. Once the panties have been forced free of her kicking legs, Nancy suddenly stops struggling.

Indeed, she stands in a state of rigid petrification as Alice slowly unclips the huge safety pin holding the nappy tightly in place. Then, with a gasp of true trepidation, Alice very carefully pulls the nappy free. Without looking at it, she then waddles over to the large plastic bin in the corner of the room, opens the lid and flings the stinking object inside. She then waddles back, helps the sissy out of the bonnet (but leaves the dummy gag tightly in place) and guides the stunned Nancy beneath one of the shower units and proceeds to hose her down from head to toe, again fighting to avoid looking below the slender she-male’s waist line until she is sure every last microbe of waste material has been washed away.

Once she is satisfied that Nancy has been fully cleansed, she releases a profound sigh of relief through her own gag and turns the now dripping wet she-male to face her. Her make up washed away, Nancy is revealed to be even younger than Alice. Maybe only 16, barely over 5 feet, four inches tall, with a slim, yet surprisingly muscular body and a beautiful, helplessly feminine face. And then Alice’s eyes are drawn to the she-male’s sex, wrapped tightly in a soaking black stocking and held firm by the metal cock ring. It is disturbingly erect, yet also rather small. Then her strangely disappointed eyes wander back up to Nancy’s lovely face and the sissy’s large, sad eyes.

Alice then removes her own bonnet and takes a bar of the powerfully scented soap from a metal dish built into the shower unit. As she approaches Nancy, she sees that the resistance and fear previously apparent in every muscle of Nancy’s body has disappeared.

Indeed, as Alice runs the soap over Nancy’s torso, she senses another emotion gripping the younger she-male: arousal. Perhaps an arousal resisted, but one which causes an obvious arch of her back and a renewed protest against the evil re-strainer. And, to Alice’s own amazement, Nancy’s arousal quickly becomes her own. Suddenly, she is unsuccessfully resisting the urge to caress Nancy’s body with the soap, to seek out her shaven, sealed sex and the crack between her buttocks. And Nancy’s response is not resistance or outrage, but a little girl moan of pleasure.

And when Nancy is thoroughly and rather erotically cleaned, Alice makes it clear that the younger she-male must now reciprocate. Yet, again to Alice’s surprise, Nancy is far from reluctant. Although naturally disgusted by the removal of the panties and the nappy, once they have been disposed of, Nancy quickly hoses down Alice and then sets about washing her with equal care and teasing dedication, thus ensuring Alice’s own helpless moans of pleasure. At first, Nancy is a little reluctant to go anywhere near Alice’s considerable sex, but after a few desperate begging squeals from Alice, the sissy tentatively leathers up her slender, girlish hands and then covers the stockinged, re-strained member in a thick layer of soap.

Alice squeals with pleasure and Nancy is clearly very excited by her response; so much so, that she then shyly slips a soap-layered index finger between Alice’s pert, pale rose buttocks and presses hard on the anal plug sealed tightly between them.

And as Alice’s squeals rise in pitch, the metal door suddenly slides open and Honey and Pansy mince back into the room.

“Get dried immediately. You’re taking far too long!” Pansy snaps.

Under the Graduate’s stern, but also excited gaze, the two Novice’s quickly dry each other with large, fluffy towels and then follow their she-male mistresses back into the nursery, totally naked, very obviously aroused and both very deeply confused.

They are led back to the rubber mat and the desk, behind which sits Mistress Maria, a warm smile lighting up her face.

“Congratulations, girls!” she exclaims, “You’ve broken the record for sissy love. We normally get the first signs after the second day of training, but you two sure didn’t hang around.”

Both sissies blush furiously before beautiful, cruel Maria, their erections rising before them like reluctant confessions of a deeply perverse desire.

“Well,” Maria continues, directly addressing Alice, “I think you’re going to be a particularly positive influence on little Nancy, and I intend to recommend to Mistress Angeline that you and she be placed in a shared room as quickly as possible.”

Alice feels a sudden skip of her heart and cannot avoid turning towards Nancy, who is already staring back at her with an exquisite mixture of fear and desire. Alice then turns back to Mistress Maria and watches her smile widen and her dark eyes burn with a very intense and strange desire.

“But now,” the gorgeous black mistress says, “we have to address the issue of your two little accidents. That means a spanking followed by a few hours in the laundry room.”

Before she can even react, Alice is grabbed by Honey and led very firmly towards the chains that had held her in place when Maria had administered the enema. She offers no resistance as she her arms are once more secured in the chain glove and her feet are pushed back into the shackles. To her surprise, a second set of chains has also been lowered from the ceiling and poor Nancy is being secured in them. Within a few minutes, the two sissies are bent trouble and facing the floor, their buttocks spread and helplessly exposed. As Honey and Pansy stand back, Maria rises from the table, a long, tan leather paddle in her hands, a wicked smile igniting her beautiful face.

“You will each be given twelve strokes of the paddle,” she informs the now terrified, yet paradoxically still very aroused she-males.

Marai then disappears behind the two quaking sissies. There is a terrible, agonising silence. Then, briefly, the sound of leather cutting through the air, a sound that inspires a squeal of apprehensive terror from each gagged mouth. Then, for Alice, there is pain, a sudden explosion of fire deep in her buttocks that drives her squeal up a full octave. Instinctively, she begins to fight her inescapable bonds, a desperate, pained struggle. But the next blow falls on Nancy’s already desperately wiggling backside, and, as the sound of leather biting into tender sissy flesh echoes once again through the nursery, poor Alice tries to steal herself for the second bitter kiss of the paddle.

And so it goes on, alternating between the two she-males, twelve strokes in total, twelve strokes that leave them both squealing for mercy, their pert sissy buttocks a deep cherry red and wobbling violently, tears pouring from their terror widened eyes.

Then they are released, shaking, sobbing, yet also both still furiously erect. Their hands are bound behind their backs with rubber coated cording and they are led from the nursery. They are returned to their separate rooms by their respective mentors, untied and carefully re-transformed into babified sissies. Within a surprisingly short period of time, their hair has been carefully re-styled, their faces beautifully made up, their feminine boy-girl forms bathed in clouds of powerful perfume. The anal plugs are teasingly repositioned. A fresh nappy is pinned tightly in place; followed by plastic panties, stockings and gleaming patent leather Mary Jane shoes. Then the lovely, sexy dress and, finally, the splendid bonnet. A fresh dummy gag is tied in place, mittened hands are retied, and the two daintily mincing she-males are led out into the corridor and back towards the nursery, the plugs teasing their arses, the pain of the spanking already transformed into an intense erotic heat that has spread between their legs and into their teased, tied and tormented cocks.

They are led through another sliding metal door and into another very large room. This is the School’s laundry room, a vast kingdom of tropical heat dominated by swirling, rumbling washing and drying machines, row upon row of freshly washed and ironed sissy clothing and, amazingly, two huge piles of soiled panties. And it is to the piles of panties that the two sissies are led, piles rising four feet high from large white plastic baskets.

“The mistresses prefer their panties hand washed,” Pansy announces. “Use the rubber pinafore and gloves, and the soap by the sink. Wash each pair thoroughly and individually, then hang them on the drying stands provided. You have 90 minutes to do the lot. If you haven’t finished by the time we return, you go back to Mistress Alicia to be spanked, given another enema, and left to spend the night in the nursery.”

Their hands are untied and the mittens are removed. Then they are left to their considerable task, a task made worse by the fact that there is only one large, rectangular sink and by the immediately apparent, intense heat, a heat whose effect is considerably increased by the tight baby attire. Very much aware of the time, Alice takes the initiative. The two sissies remain tightly gagged, so she finds herself communicating with Nancy, who is now looking at Alice with a disturbingly frank desire, via clumsy hand gestures. Following these gestures, Nancy allows Alice to help her into the heavy white rubber pinafore and gloves and then be guided slowly over to the sink. Nancy then fills the sink with warm water and adds a little of the soap powder as Alice pulls the first basket of panties directly between the two sissies. As she does so, she notices that there are four other she-males in the room, all novices in their pretty pink uniforms, all tightly ball gagged and, to her surprise, all hobbled. Two are virtually chained to large ironing boards and working on huge piles of sissy attire freshly hauled from the huge drying machines. Two others are loading and unloading washing and drying. One of the Novices, who Alice recognises from the dining room, returns her gaze through eyes burning with sex torment, a look that both frightens and excites, the look of an addict high on the drug of desire.

Soon Alice and Nancy are slaving over the sink, desperately trying to wash and rinse what must be two hundred pairs of panties. Their efforts are hampered by a combination of the heat, the heavy rubber aprons and a terrible sense of panic, a sense made much worse by the fact that neither sissy has the slightest sense of what time it is. Also, both are now painfully aware of a deep, unyielding hunger and the increasing physical weakness that comes with it. As a consequence of this, it is not long before both are soaked in sweat and filling quite dizzy. Yet despite this torment, there is not a second when the two sissies are free from the unforgiving sexual craving.

The delicate, often very skimpy panties, with their powerful female odours, have a tremendously exciting, fetishistic power; and the two she-males find themselves helplessly exchanging hungry looks.

Alice is shocked by the speed of Nancy’s transformation from an angry, feminised youth into a doe-eyed sissy and the impact of their bizarre adventure in the shower room. Their nakedness and the sex drug had combined to unleash some deep rooted, most definitely homosexual desire which was now being channelled directly into their feminisation.

Driven by desire and fear, the she-males, perhaps miraculously, manage to hang all the panties on the drying rack, the last pair being positioned just as Honey and Pansy return for an inspection. After a cursory glance at the rack, the Graduates lead their sweating, gasping charges from the laundry back to their rooms. Here, they are stripped naked, quickly showered and perfumed, then carefully made up and returned to their lovely Novice uniforms, complete with the fat rubber ball gags. Both are then taken to the dinning room, where they are positioned side by side at a table with two Juniors, one of whom Alice recognises as the lovely Petal.

Alice finds her self-staring with a helpless, fierce lust at Petal, who returns her look with a frank, teasing smile.

The gags are removed and the Graduates mince over to the food counter. It is then that Petal leans forward towards Alice.

“You look really sexy gagged,” Petal whispers, her voice like soft velvet, her eyes sparkling with the tormenting power of the sex drug. “Do you like being gagged?”

Stunned, overwhelmed by the strength of her desire, Alice nods helplessly.

“I’ve got something to gag you with,” Petal adds, her smile widening.

Then she quickly slips back into her seat as Honey and Pansy return. Honey places two extra large bowls of the strange mashed potato-like food and two tall glasses of the strawberry protein drink before the Novices and Alice and Nancy are soon eating with a desperate enthusiasm. Honey sits down and Pansy places two more bowls on the table. She then carefully lowers herself into the seat next to Honey. Soon all four are eating in silence. Between mouthfuls of food, both Alice and Nancy find themselves looking across the room at the continuing spectacle of April and Grace, their struggles now considerably lessened, their eyes vacant, defeated, zombie-like – frozen by a horror too terrible to contemplate.

After the meal, the sissies are re-gagged and led back down the long, central corridor. Yet instead of being returned to their separate rooms, they are taken to a much larger ‘double’ room. This is essentially just a bigger version of the standard sissy accommodation, yet with one particularly disturbing difference: a large double bed. Held in a white metal frame, with a barred headboard, the bed is covered in gleaming pink, highly perfumed sheets and at least six fat pillows in matching silk cases.

The two sissies stare at the bed with some considerable trepidation as Honey and Pansy set about stripping them down to their teasing, tormenting re-strainers. Moaning slightly into their mouth filling gags as the dainty, sexy, ultra feminine clothing is slipped from their petite she-male forms, Alice and Nancy exchange looks of fear and arousal. Yet in Nancy’s pretty eyes, Alice sees something else, something approaching jealously. She remembers Petal’s teasing words and then she understands: poor Nancy is upset by the attentions of Petal and by Alice’s helplessly positive response!

Once they are naked, the Graduates mince over to the larger, longer built-in wardrobe and begin to remove a bizarre variety of nightwear. The two sissies watch with renewed concern as the clothes are laid out on the bed before them, their desperate erections rising up before their slender bodies like ringed totem poles to a black, eternal desire.

Honey takes up a pair of very fine strawberry coloured silk stockings and dangles them before Alice.

“Put these on, first,” she whispers, her large, hungry eyes wandering down to Alice’s straining sex.

Alice obeys, managing to slip into the self-supporting stockings with a surprising ease. The fine, cool silk sends shivers of intense pleasure through her body, and as she adjusts the elasticised tops around her silken thighs, Nancy, under Pansy’s instructions, begins to struggle into a pale blue version of the stockings. And after the stockings comes a rubber mini-corset, Alice’s strawberry, Nancy’s pale blue, a corset tightly laced into place by the appropriate Graduate. Then, the most unusual nightdress imaginable. Made from shimmering satin and corresponding to the colour code each sissy appears to have been allocated, the dresses are more like single-legged body stockings. To put them on, each she-male is made to sit on the bed and draw the sheath of satin up their silken hosed legs. The sheath element is in fact very tight and their legs are forced tautly together. Subsequently unable to stand, they wiggle the top half of the dress up over their stomachs and now flat chests, slipping arms into long, puffed, lace be-frilled sleeves and then pulling the very high, also lace be-frilled neck up to the tips of their sissy chins. The Graduates then produce two pairs of finger-less rubber gloves, also colour coded, and force their respective sissy’s hands into them, making any movement of their fingers impossible.

Yet this is not the end of their restriction. For as soon as the gloves are fitted, their arms are forced down to their sides and tied in place with a long length of silk ribbon, which has been sown into each side of the dress at the hips. The ribbons are wrapped around the she-male’s gloved wrists and tied tightly in place with a fat sissy bow.

Once satisfied that their charges have been adequately secured, the Graduate maids carefully pull the two sissies up onto the bed and lay them out side by side. Then, to the amazed horror and arousal of both she-males, the Graduates lean forward and plunge their hands into the crotch area of the dresses. Squealing with fear and excitement, the sissies watch as the Graduate’s hands disappear into small, elastic slits built into the crotch area and then somewhat roughly pull out their stockinged, cock-ringed sexes.

Helpless, appalled, terribly turned on, Alice and Nancy must then watch as the two Graduates remove the cock rings and gently, teasingly slip off the stockings. Squealing angrily, their crimson, now rock solid erections pop into full, erotic bloom and the Graduates burst out laughing.

“It’s not fair,” Pansy says, her high pitched, sissy girl voice genuinely shocking to Alice. “Yours is twice as big!”

Honey laughs, then leans forward and, to Alice’s utter astonishment, takes the she-male’s stiff, desperate sex between her thumb and forefinger and carefully, even elegantly, guides it into her mouth.

Utterly helpless, terrified and dizzy with sexual excitement, Alice quickly becomes aware of Honey’s highly trained oral skills. Indeed, within seconds she is struggling to avoid a violent orgasm as the Graduate tickles and teases her molten cock with her tongue and sucks on its inflated head with soft, rose petal lips. Alice’s loud squeals of furious arousal are quickly matched by poor Nancy, who is now also subject to an oral pleasuring by her mentor.

The two sissies come together, or if not together, then within seconds of each other, exploding into the expert mouths of their Graduate tormentors with ear splitting squeals of a terrible, black cosmic power. Bright silver stars fill Alice’s vision. Her whole body seems to lift off the bed with the titanic force of the orgasm. A positive sea of come floods from her screaming, jerking cock like a high-pressure torrent of sex lava, a torrent that Honey takes into her mouth and swallows like a life prolonging nectar. Never, in her life, has she experienced such fundamental, profound pleasure.

And when she is spent, when she falls back onto the bed, wrapped tightly in her satin nightie-come-cocoon, gasping silently into the fat gag, she feels a sudden, almost unbearable sense of perfection, as if, finally, she is where she wants to be and who she wants to be. There is laughter in the background, the laughter of Honey and Pansy as they wipe their mouths, their thirst sated.

“My, my,” Honey purrs, between gasps of laughter, “what an explosion!”

“There certainly was a lot of spunk in that little cock,” Pansy adds, her own smile wrapped in a terrible, inescapable need: the addict’s craving for sex.

Yet even as the two sissies fall back to earth, their sexes are twitching and desire is flooding back into their bodies. And, perhaps incredibly, both are soon fully erect and moaning desperately into their fat gags.

Unfortunately, further pleasuring is out of the question. For even as they begin to stiffen, Honey and Pansy are sorting out fresh sex stockings and soaking them in clouds of powerful perfume, stockings of a very sheer, teasing nylon that match exactly the colour code of the sissies nightwear.

Then the stockings are stretched over their fully revived sexes, slowly, gently, sensually, inspiring more gagged squeals of pleasure and looks of desperate longing. As the stockings are pulled tight over molten flesh and secured with white silk ribbons around bulging testies, as Honey and Pansy relentlessly tease their helpless sissy charges, Alice contemplates her she-male future as an endless pathway of unyielding sexual desire. And once the stockings are tied in place, Pansy re-introduces the two terrible, double looped cock rings and the Graduates then quickly snap them back in place around the two nylon sheathed, rock hard, straining sexes. Yet even this is not the end of this bizarre, unbearably erotic ritual. For as the rings are secured, Pansy is already dangling a short length of chain between the wide-eyed, sexed up sissies. At each end of the chain is what appears to be a small rubber shackle.

“Seeing how you’ve developed such a sudden affection for one another,” Pansy whispers, her eyes filled with a cruel arousal, “we thought you should be kept as closely together as possible during the night.”

She then proceeds to take the first shackle, slip it over Alice’s angry, ringed cock, and pull it carefully over her testicles, so that it slides tightly into place around her stockinged scrotum. As she does this, Honey turns a whimpering Nancy onto her side and pushes her much closer to Alice, who has by now also been turned onto her side. The two sissies are now directly facing each other. The second shackle is then taken up by Honey and slipped over Nancy’s tormented sex, thus pulling the she-male captives even closer together and ensuring that their sexes are virtually pressing against each other.

Despite the discomfort of the strange position they have been forced into, both sissies are furiously aroused by this new kinky torment and as they stare helplessly into each others wide, little girl eyes, they know they are doomed to fall helplessly and madly in love, both with each other and with their intricate sissy future.

As they wiggle and squeal with pleasure, as they struggle to pull closer to each other, their bodies infected and overwhelmed by the sex drug as their cocks rub together unavoidably, the two Graduates, smiling like proud parents, slip from the room, flicking off the light and locking the door behind them.

In the absolute darkness, bound, gagged, ringed, tied so intimately together, the sissies squeal their need to each other, frustrated yet even more excited by the nature and fact of their frustration. Together, they face a night of unyielding sex hunger and deeply masochistic happiness. And in the morning, they know they will face an eternity of feminine submission, a thought that fills them both with a helpless joy.






the transformation of evelyn

transformation of evelyn
I moved forward in the line, clutching my package of panties, brassiere and camisole rolled into a tight bundle so no one could see.

Perspiration was running down my back, over my freshly shaven chest and down my thighs – causing a sloppy slipping between my legs as I shifted from side to side. Finally! I make it to the register. I place the items on the counter along with a sealed envelope. A note, specifically decreed from the House of Sissify given to me just for this shopping assignment. My mind fills with doubt – but thinking of all my long held desires, I pull up a little assurance and move forward.

The checkout lady is in her mid-forties who’s name tag reveals Jill – a bit taller than most with a deep and lilting voice. She is dressed impeccably, as one would only see working at such a fine ladies store. She unrolls the bundle. She takes her time opening each item fully on the table, attempting to remove any wrinkles from the fine lingerie created by my abusive grasp. Carefully looking at each of the labels, she then looks into my face and says;

“Honey – you didn’t even try these on. There is no way these pieces of lingerie will fit you. With three different sizes here – I don’t think they will fit any one person at all.”

Immediately she gets on her intercom and calls out:

“Assistance needed at counter 6, assistance for counter 6”.

Baffled, and embarrassed – the sweat still running down my shaven legs – I squeak out a small,

“Uh.. what’s wrong?”

I thrust the special sealed note to the checkout lady who picks it up with her finely manicured fingers, and neatly places it into her pocket without even looking at it.

“Can’t I just pay for my things and leave?”  My voice is trembling

”Your things!?”, Jill retorts with a gruff laugh “These fineries will in no way fit you – so I am calling for someone to take over my register here so we can fix this pathetic attempt at sizing and get you back to the dressing room and get you properly fitted and prepared.”

I’m, blushing and nearly hyperventilating uncontrollably – yet I feebly utter:

“But, I, I, i….. “

“Nonsense!” says Jill, “You’re not the only sissy who has been sent here – we have a special room set aside just for you girls. A room where we can give special attention from our dressers and team – we’ll have you properly dressed both inside and out in no time at all. Now, come along!”

Jill grabs me by the elbow, and escorts me down the hall. Her heels click on the hard marble floor with each step.

“What’s the name honey?” Jill askes her voice husky and warm.

Muttering so no one could hear, “Drew?”

Jill giggles

“I’ve never cared for that name”, Jill laughs, “But, it doesn’t matter anyway – your new name has already been chosen and after we’re completed here, no one will think of you as a man, nor care to remember you were ever other than you will be after today!”

What did she say? Did she just tell me nobody will think of me as a man?

Twirling, she leads drew toward the back of the department store, she bursts forth with another peel of laughter.

As I walk a few steps behind her now, I notice how safe and secure I feel. It’s kinda like being taken to the nurse’s room in school to get out of class, or… like Mom was going to take care of me. I think it’s going to be ok after all.

Suddenly Jill spins around, and exclaims:

“So, sissy, here we are! The start of the rest of your life!”

What? My breath escapes my lungs, as that warm and fuzzy feeling of security vanishes. I’m sweating again, my hands tremble, my knees feel weak. I find myself gasping for breath as these fleeting feelings of security give way to overwhelming fear!

What is going on? My mind races. Did that note do this? She didn’t even open it! Is she part of the House of Sissify? OMG, I am going to get caught and I’m gonna lose it all. Yep. Everything. My wife. My job. My life. Oh fuck. Why do I let my fantasies overtake me?! What the hell did that note say?

“I am not doing this….” I begin to stammer

“What will my wife think? Where is Joyce?” I look around quickly for her. For anything that can save me.

I realize instinctually, I was calling for her like my mom to fix this situation that I had lost control over.

“Joyce?”, says Jill, “You mean your Superior.“

“Um…My wife”

“Ha!”  Laughs Jill, “Poor thing, I guess you would still think that…”

“How do you… how do you know about Joyce?”  my voice is weak and trembling.

“Obviously, your Superior is involved in your Training! It’s Joyce who sent you here in the first place.”

“Now you don’t really think this cute idea of wearing panties was your very own do you? Like you just happened to find the House of Sissify while surfing for porn?”

“Oh… fuck…” I stammer, my passion colliding with my trepidation, the fantasy running straight into my fears.

“She contracted with the House of Sissify to take over your internet, and feed you subliminal hypnotic feminization keys until you joined the House and told them all your fantasies. Every sordid one of them. We have them all.”

“As for all this Wife/partner/ possessive, patriarchal misogynist nonsense, do be certain that from now on She is your Superior!”

I was scared. It was starting to really sink in.

“That look on your face tells Me you finally realize the predicament you are in. You’re being humiliated & transformed to teach you a damned good lesson and to eventually become a well-trained sissy designed for Her personal amusement.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing!

“But first we need you to get cleaned up and get that boy off of you! So come on in to our first phase, come on.. come on.. “

Jill grabs drew by the hand and walks him sheepishly behind the first door.

My mind is racing! I’m excited, scared, massively turned on. Massively… Ashamed. Ashamed?  Is Joyce really here too? How could this be? It must be, because I joined the House of Sissify!

Will I be transformed without responsibility? Will I be feminized, even against my will?

drew begins to hyperventilate, his heart is pounding in his chest, his tucked bits pushing uncomfortably into his gaffed and pantied bottom.

Drew follows Jill into a small dressing room with a hot pink velvet chaise lounge atop a white furry carpet.  Drew begins to tremble.

“I..   I,” he stammers  “I was just looking for some girly things,  I like the way they feel on my skin, I mean  I’m not really looking to be a girl.. I mean..”

“A Girl!?” Jill quakes.

“You think we are turning you into a girl?!!”

“Ha ha.. honey, no no, no, you are not a girl, you will not be a girl, you will never be a girl, you are in fact a sissy!”

Jill’s, force is amazing, drew muses on how much he loves it when she is so forceful, how like Joyce she is, and how, indeed it was Joyce’s idea that he come to this new store to get some frilly things so he would stop stealing hers.

“A sissy? What kind of a sissy?  I mean other than a taunt for an effeminate guy, what does that really mean?”

“Well, honey, you are a sissy, not really a man at all, and certainly not a real woman. A sissy is a play thing, a delight when well trained and behaved, a joy to its Mistress, and an object of derision when it is uncontrolled.. by the way, how do you like being referred to as it?”

“I don’t really like it”

“Don’t forget – it’s always Mam to you honey. We can’t start referring to you as she yet now can we? Soon enough, but not yet, what with hairy legs and silly man bits flailing about… “

“I am already shaven and tucked Mam”

“You are?!” Jill lifts her eyes with excitement.

“Well then, we can just skip this first section of clean up if you have really learned to do a proper job. Take off your clothes. Let’s see how you have done…”

Drew stands there, embarrassed, flummoxed, frightened.

Have I really just revealed my secret to this Woman I just met?

As his dreams, hopes, fears and memories are flooding his mind and his heart thumps in his smooth chest he begins to reassure himself

I know she’s a Mistress, she is a Madame, its going to be alright. She must have my real interest at heart, and besides, the House did suggest they would have ways to get into my mind and I did give her the note, though she didn’t even seem to read it….

“DO IT!” Jill demands.

drew’s hands are shaking as he starts to unbutton his shirt revealing his chest shaven and his nipples hard as stones.

He drops his shirt and his pants, he is standing there, entire body free of hair, tightly tucked and pantied, excited, embarrassed and oddly liberated.  He giggles.

“Very nice. Very nice.” Jill replies, “Clean, well done, nicely pantied! Who taught you to do this?”

“Ah..” drew utters. “it was all in the shaving assignment,  at the House, I joined…  my Superior doesn’t yet know”

“Ha Ha!” jill laughs, “She knows, do be sure. You have been taking your lessons at the House of Sissify seriously I see, and your honesty speaks well of your progressive sissification.  We had reviewed your participation, but you had not sent in any photo’s – so, now we are here to see for ourselves aren’t we.”

“Yes Mam”

“Very good. You are properly shaved, tucked and pantied so we can move on to your deplorable lingerie choices, but first!”

“You really do know of my participation at the House?”

“That is what the House is for sissy. It’s a placement service after all.”

Jill continues to enjoy herself as she admonishes his feeble understanding of what he got himself into.

“For all of your wanking and chatting it is obvious you did not read the Shopping Assignment? How could you have purchased these items not even aware of your size?”

Jill sighs.

“At least you brought your note to ask for help. While you may have worked out how to shave and tuck your pathetic appendage, your ability to be a sissy to be proud of is far from complete.”

Drew, utters a sigh of relief, She is accepting him, as he is, she knows, Joyce knows? How could all of this have transpired from simply joining a web site?

“What will happen next Mam?” He feels any last vestiges of masculinity draining from him like his libido after release.

“We get your fitted, outfitted and presented of course. Training Training Training! Let’s see… from your profile…let me bring it up right here” Jill picks up her phone and opens up drews House profile and quickly checks his princess points and activity log.

“Hmm, not really much work here.. wanking stuff mostly”.

Jill adeptly flips through a few screens with her beautiful fingers – quickly swiping her smart phone.

“Honey – I’m getting the impression you think this is all about you and your desires. It is not!”

“No mam” mumbles drew with his head bowed.

“Sit up dear!  A sissy needs to be able to sit up straight less it looks like her breasts are weighing her down!”

Breasts? Drew perks up.

Jill is still flipping through statistics – scanning drew’s logs.

“Oh My Goddess. Have you not even tried to look at how to perform proper cunnilingus for your Superior? You should be ashamed”

“Do you not even care?” chortles Jill.

“Of course I do… I mean.. yes Mam, I do.  It was just.. I was just chatting and thought I would like to start with shaving.  I..I haven’t been there for long, you can look, really I was…. “

“I know how long you have been there.” Jill cracks with an authority that seems so very matter of fact.

“We know what you have been doing with your time. How much time you’ve spent being helpful and being your natural subservient self and how much time you spent looking at the real men images on the site… even reading through some of the cock sucking assignments, and, oh look at this!”

Such a long pause. It seemed too long!

“Hmm. Yes drew; by watching your surfing habits, We have created a very complete profile of your desires and talents – as well as your weaknesses. It appears you are more interested in sucking cock, than pleasing your Mistress! Not a surprise to Her of course.”

“No Mam… uh..”

“Stop speaking when you are being spoken to!” demands Jill

“Be quiet, your voice is starting to irritate me.”

“It is in part the reality of your love for cock that your kind Superior has been working with Us to further your training in a way that will please you both.”

My mouth begins to salivate. Why does the idea of being a pleasure to my Wife and cause me to react in this way? Why do I like it so?

“The House of Sissify has been around for nearly as long as you have been alive – and it has certainly been influencing you since you and your Mistress got together. Joyce has relayed the story of how you tried on her dress prior to your bonding ceremony and how much you liked it. She knew then as did your best man – In fact most everyone seems to have known but you! It was shortly after you marriage and Joyce got control of your finances that she contacted the House. Several months in fact before you ‘discovered’ the House  “on your own.”

“In fact, it’s due to the House that we have this small transformation studio here. Lucky you!”

“While your name is certainly androgynous enough, for Our purposes you need a new name. It’s simple really – along with a new name, your old self that identified as something of worth without effort can be dissolved – and a new you can be artfully crafted. A you who earns self respect and the glance of a Superior through service and actions worthy and appropriate or her true purpose in life. It is this new name, this new you that from this time on we will all know.”

Did she just refer to me as “her”?

Drew struggles to stay standing, naked and shaven – being examined like a science project before this strong Mistress.

“So from now on you shall be only known as evelyn. sissy evelyn..”

“Sissy evelyn? How can that be? What will I do for work? Mam.”

While ‘drew’ had worked for several years in a law firm as an associate, he had always envied the women who worked there dressed in their stockings and pencil tight skirts. How, the principals each had their own secretaries who were at their beck and call and seemed ready to serve in ways that drew could only dream. So often he watched these girls smile and walk into their bosses rooms, only to come out giggling running their fingers through their hair. How he envied the ease and dynamic they expressed! But lately his boss, Jayden, has been keeping him out of the office, with paid trips with Joyce for get away weekends – turning into weeks, now up to a month that he has been paid to stay away. Drew thought it was due to his great work on that big case at first – but this was getting to be quite a vacation. It was during this time he encountered the House of Sissify. In fact, his desires to be feminized had increased even to the point where he has come to suspect some new chemistry has been happening due to his thoughts and focus. He really has been looking and feeling more of a sissy with each passing day.

“Yes, work. We do have a surprise for you there, let’s just say that your boss already knows. In fact, he has known since you started with him, and it was through his encouragement that you have been spending so much time away as you have been transforming.  When all is complete – no one at your office will even remember drew ever worked there, and now, you, evelyn, will be working directly for him.

“But! I have my own office”, says drew.

“No.  Had”, replies Jill, “Drew had an office, he’s no longer working at the firm. Evelyn will be Jayden’s secretary. And you know where she presides. From here on out, you are Evelyn.”

drew/ evelyn, is breathless with a mix of hope, desire and fear.

“How, what has been happening to me? You mean my desires and smoother skin is not just from chance?”

“Ha ha!” Jill laughs. “Chance? From you doing nothing? No, honey, your chemistry has been being worked on since you started there, it is only since your appearance was starting to change that its completion has needed to occur outside of the oversight of others in your firm.”

“So, evelyn, shall we begin?”

Poor ‘evelyn’  can’t believe what is happening, it is so fast, it is so tantalizing  s/he speaks up:

“Is it his or her for me Mam” s/he asks.

“her of course honey, you never were much of man to begin with and from here on you will never have to bother pretending again.”

“Thank you Mam… I think?”

“You think?”

Jill turns with a fierceness in her voice?

“You THINK? No, honey you don’t think, while We may use her and she as a diminutive reference to break down your silly egoic sense of pride, never presume you think. We Will think and let you know what you are to do. Got it?”

“Ahh yes Mam”, demur’s evelyn.

“A sissy is as a sissy does, and she is never more perfect than when she is in her proper place of service”, states Jill. “Now come… let’s get started.”

Evelyn is led into a room down a narrow pink hall. She is amazed that in her own mind she has begun to refer to herself as she.

The hall is the same color pink as the House of Sissify! It must be for real? Evelyn muses, feeling lighter and freer as she follows Jill past various closed doors, occasionally hearing others behind those doors, some sound like they are working with others, some sound as though lost in a dream speaking to themselves. Out of one comes two people dressed in surgical gowns, a smell of sterility wafts from the quickly closing door. Evelyn begins to dream of the potential.

When Evelyn first came the House of Sissify she had read how the House would get into her mind and life in ways she couldn’t at the time even conceive. When she first read about how the House would work to take the responsibility of her transition into its own hands she thought, how in the world could that be? But as time has progressed, and now encountering Jill and to find out that Joyce and even Jayden is in on this too?

And now she finds herself here with a Mistress who seems to know her far too much to be coincidence. she is pantied and shaven, is answering to a new name and even in her own mind has begun to refer to her herself as she. Wow!

Evelyn begins to feel weak again. Is it the hormones they have apparently been feeding her? Or just nerves she muses? Feeling like a fly in a spider web, tantalized by the potential of drew’s end and evelyn’s emergence, she finds the possibility irresistible as she walks behind Jill and into the next room.

“Now, we have been noticing evelyn, that you walk like a crab. Your big swaying steps can only mean one thing.”

“What is that?” evelyn asks shyly.

“You of course are not plugged!” replies Jill.

“A properly sized anal plug serves several purposes. Of course, it keeps your sissy pussy relaxed and ready for when it’s purpose is needed. With each step it also keeps your prostate stimulated so your libido remains strong, causing you to hunger for release – which now is of course, under our control. This will serve to control your wandering thoughts so they can be channeled properly into your complete transformation.

But thirdly is causes you to step daintily, and that is the reason today you will be fitted here by our man Pico.”

“Pico is the man on our team who helps us in this regard and since it is your first plug we thought is be best if you get used to having a real man around while sizing.”

“But  but..” evelyn stammers.. “But I like women. I am married.  I .. “

“It is not ‘I’!”, Jill reprimands. “Be humble when you refer to yourself. ‘This sissy’ is far more appropriate.”

Jill continues, “Now, I will overlook this one transgression – but given We literally have your ‘’balls’, your credit cards, your identity and  Mistress has all of your bank accounts and Your boss has already been informed – I suggest you get your pretty little head around this and submit like a good sissy”

Jill leaves the room, leaving evelyn alone with Pico.

Pico is about 6’4” a beautiful light brown color tan to his skin, dark hair, brown eyes.  Why am I looking at him like I want to be fucked evelyn thinks. What is happening.. am i really starting to change already?

“Here, have a drink” Pico, smiles as he offers evelyn a small cup. She drinks it down and notices an odd cherry taste to it.

“What was that” she asks?

“Oh, just something to get you started honey.”

Evelyn falls off into a strange state of being half awake yet half asleep.

“Now, you little sissy”, Picko says in his deep rumbly voice. “We will get you set up. This is going to be fun.”

Evelyn drifts off, as she awakes again into the half asleep state she feels a pleasant sensation in your anus, a fullness, her mind immediately goes to Pico.

She comes to notice she has a headset on, a sort of virtual reality set, oh, and it includes some thin gloves, and an anal plug and it even feels like she is in a new set of special panties. She is lying down on the lounge looking at an image of herself as a feminized sissy, clothed, smooth, pretty. She sees Pico come up to the image of herself and he strokes her arm. She feels it on her own arm. He runs his finger through the hair of her avatar and she feels a pleasant tingling sensation over her own head. He runs his hand over the avatars anus and she feels the sensation deep inside her. She loses her awareness of her body itself, for now she is her avatar.

She lies there as though her avatar is reviewing her memories. Images and memories are rising and falling away from her view. They are coupled with directly experienced feelings. She can no longer tell she is other than what she is seeing and feeling. There is her Mother and her Father, or drew’s mother and father… but they are playing with a small young Evelyn. Her father smiling sweetly at his little girl. Evelyn’s Mom primps her dress to keep her clean and standing up straight. They are talking to her. To Evelyn, they’re daughter. The scene moves, she is playing with her childhood dog, but again she is Evelyn. Now it is Easter, she is herself dressed in a plain white dress, she is giggling with the other girls, now she is dancing as a young Evelyn at her prom, her boyfriend a geeky but handsome boy looking hungrily at her, as she stands demurely wanting to be seen.

She begins to feel the plug in her anus swell, she is aware of Pico inside of her, her avatar, or is it herself, she can no longer tell the difference, he is a pleasure and he is pleasing himself.

She begins to come back aware more and more, she is still on the lounge, she realizes she has orgasmed a more fulfilling release than she has ever known and it is all on the inside. She opens her eyes Pico pulls off her head set and gloves and kisses her on her forehead.

“Not so bad was it?” he asks, his head still slightly wet with his own perspiration.  evelyn smells his funk and feels her plug again. She squeezes it with love.

How long has she been here? She looks into his eyes, he smiles, she gleams back, whatever has happened is lasting, she no longer desires to be drew, she is evelyn, and loved, just as her daddy told her she was.


Jill re-enters the room, it seems like a lifetime has past, it takes a while for evelyn to recognize and recall what is happening. She looks imploringly to Pico, his toothy smile is wide.

“See you again honey”, he says with a wink as Jill comes over to evelyn’s side.

“Your identification has already been changed just as your memories and desires were being rewritten. I suggest you get any remaining silly ideas of a grandstanding excuse for manhood out of your little head, and start being the sissy you have so desired to be. Your time has arrived dear.”

“I am not sure”, evelyn squeaks.

What has happened to her voice? It is so much softer.

“Umm… can I have some time?”

“More time?” laughs Jill. “Your time is now honey, everything is in order and you have already signed away the consent form with your marriage certificate years ago. Let it go dear, We are here to help you.”

“Now, what does sissy want?”

“sissy wants to be taught how to serve”

“Now.. wasn’t that easy? Didn’t it feel right?”

“Yes mam, it feels right.” evelyn’s voice is soft and sexy.

“You will be of real use now to your Mistress and to anyone she may wish to share you with.”


After what seems hours, she again sleeps, awakens, each day or what is passing for days seems to continue, time has lost if reference.

She is once again in the virtual reality unit. As Pico helped her get dressed she could feel her plug pulsing, he has it set to a remote and can control it at will. Evelyn is excited! She drinks the elixir eagerly and is lost in a hypnotic semi-conscious dream.

Her Mistress is there in her dream. She has not seen Joyce in…well she doesn’t really know how long she has even been in this place, but she is here now, in her mind, in her memories. “Now sissy-evelyn”, her Mistress is saying, “in order for us to let your full girlishness out we need to go through all of your memories and re-write them, even to the ideas and words used before you were born. When your mother and father were speaking of you before you were born, know they always were referring to their little girl, their daughter, always it was she, sissy evelyn, to your teachers and boyfriends, girlfriends and even us together. All references to he and drew are gone. Only evelyn remains, only sissy evelyn, sweet sissy evelyn.”  The sounds, and lights flashed, rapid colors, words from memories, rewrite, erased, remade evelyn is being born.


evelyn awakens, Pico caresses her hair, she smiles. She slowly comes to recall she is at this place, she was shopping, for some cloths when Jill walks in.

“Well, now that we have some breasts upon you we can size you for your bra.”

My breasts evelyn thinks? She looks down, there on her chest are two large full, firm breasts, she looks up at Pico, he smiles, her nipples harden and she feels a slight pulse in her plug.

“Yes, Mam, thank you”, she replies with a small curtsy and smile.

To be continued…

Bobbie to Barbara

bobbie to barbara

It was late and I was so tired. I just had a beer and met Suzy. She was cute and built. She was definitely one of San Janus Colleges best assets. I hoped to see her again. Just about 5’6″ Suzy had dark, long hair that she piled high on her head. She had the eyes of a hawk and finely chiseled features. Her shape was cut from stone.

Part One

Suzy loved to workout and had a firm body. Her breasts were lush and she dressed to accentuate this asset. Suzy said she lived in the Stradford, I was living in my car until the dorms opened. Suzy said The Stradford was the apartment complex to live in. Workout rooms, Jacuzzi, pool room, sauna, meeting rooms and a ballroom. The ballroom was the last piece left from the old building. The owners found it so charming they restored it. Upon going to housing, I learned that my room arrangements had gotten confused. With 45 days before the start of class, I had no place to live.

Suzy came up and said Hi. Moment later I found out that Suzy worked in housing. She tried to help but said that I had been bumped by accident. She was great. We spent the day together walking from here to there, trying to get the problem straightened out. Unfortunately for me, we couldn’t get dorm space. Then when all seemed lost Suzy said she thought she could help me out by allowing me to live in her building. But, she said I would have to appear before the committee and be approved. For the night however she said I could stay with her. So I took all of my things to Suzy’s house. Suzy gave me her key and told me she would meet me later at her place. I thanked her.

I looked at the address and saw the Stradford in front of me. It was absolutely regal. Ivy on the walls, gates ponds and fountains. The building was four stories tall. The inside was as beautiful as the outside.

As I entered, I was greeted by a very attractive young woman in a uniform of dark skirt, just above the knee, dark hose, very high patent leather heels, and a tight blouse with a high neck. She was gorgeous and perfectly made up. She offered me a pen and I looked at her perfect blood red nails and matching lipstick. She smiled and said, “Welcome to the Stradford, may I help you?” I said, my name is Bob and I’ll be visiting with Suzy in 4b. “Ah yes she smiled”. We’ve been expecting you.” “if I can serve you in any way, please just ask”.

I pressed the elevator button and the door opened. I was greeted by another similarly clad woman who asked me to select a floor. I told her four. She too was exquisite and I marveled at how she balanced herself on those very thin, tall spike heels. “Here’s your floor, if I can serve you in any way please ask”. I floated out of the elevator and in moments stood in front of 4b.

I was thinking how attractive that girl was when I opened the door to Suzy’s apartment. The apartment was stark, yet feminine. She had taste that was obvious. The pictures on the wall depicted feminine women in various states of undress. Clearly modern art, her paintings were in some ways very erotic. I walked her apartment and looked in the kitchen and then the bathroom.

Her guestroom was obviously decorated for female guest. She had a four poster bed, closets across the wall, a big padded sit and makeup mirror with lights. The guestroom had its own bathroom and that bathroom attached to the master bedroom. How strange I thought as I walked into her bedroom. Suzy was so sexy. I sat on her bed and dreamed of having her. I reached for her pillow and ran my hands underneath. I felt something soft and silky. I pulled my hand out and found I had a pair of Suzy’s panties tangled in my fingers. They were white, with lace and a flower at the top in the middle. I brought the delicate garment to my face and started sniffing. With my free hand I started stroking myself. After a few moments I was ready to cum so I stopped.

Just then I heard a key in the door. I ran for the living room. When I sat down, I realized that I had left her panties in the middle of her bed. “Hi Bob”, said Suzy. “How long have you been here?” I told her just a few minutes.

She said, “I’m dog tired, so I’ve ordered some food for us”. She said, “I’m going to get more comfortable”. With that she left and entered her bedroom. She did not close the door. I craned my neck and tried to sneak a peek. I saw her from her mirror. Off came her Blouse. Her breasts were encased by a silk low cut bra that showed off the tops of her ripe melons. She shucked off her skirt and I saw she was wearing thigh high stocking of nude and beige panties cut low. Her mound was clearly accentuated through her filmy panties. She put on some mules and a bathrobe and entered her bathroom. Moments later she emerged.

As she entered the door bell rang. Suzy said, “Bobbie dear be a lamb and get the door”. I arose and opened the door. Another beautiful women in the Stradford uniform entered and placed the food on the table. She entered the kitchen and picked out dishes and silverware. For the next ten minutes I watched this vixen set the table. She had grace and style. She turned on her 4″ heels perfectly. The badge on her breast said Mary. When she was done she stood and asked if we were ready to dine. She pulled out the seat for Suzy and placed a napkin in her lap. When finished she did the same for me. She served us out meal. Suzy started telling me about the Stradford. She talked about the amenities and all of the other points of the property.

After about 20 minutes of conversation, and while Mary was pouring me a second glass of wine Suzy looked directly into my eyes. “Did you touch my panties?”. I immediately said “no”. She continued ” Bobbie dear, honesty is everything.” I could see her breath coming and going. Her bathrobe had opened enough for me to see that gentle swell and the lace of her beige bra. She was a goddess. ” I can’t have you as a guest if you lie to me”.

Suzy then said, “Mary, stand still by me”. As ordered Mary did so. “I’ll ask you one more time, did you touch my panties this afternoon”. “I knew she meant business. I was embarrassed by having Suzy asking me the question and knowing that Mary was listening for the answer as well. Finally, I decided that honesty was the best policy. “yes” I said. A knowing look came across Suzy’s face. Mary simply had a smile on her face. “Did you soil my panties?” I stammered that I had not. She said, “But you did handle my panties”.

Ashamed I said yes again. Suzy ate quietly. I tried to apologize but she would not speak of it. She seemed angry and spilled some wine on her bathrobe. Mary immediately blotted the wine. Suzy bade her stop and she did. I tried to make conversation with Mary but she stood at attention next to Suzy. I was afraid, why did I play with those panties? After dinner was finished, Suzy told me to sit in the living room. I did as I was told. Suzy told Mary to clean up and leave. She sat down in he living room and told me what I did was wrong. She said I violated her trust. I asked her how I could make it up to her and she said you can do the laundry for me. I said great. I wanted her to be happy. I asked her where the washing machine was and she smiled. By this time, Mary had finished and presented herself. “do you need anything else”. “No dear” said Suzy, “Your service was excellent and so was your deportment, rest assured it will be noted”. Mary smiled and said, “If I may serve you in any way, please ask”. With that she was gone. I remarked to Suzy that the help was strange. She smiled and said laundry time. I followed her to the bathroom. We entered to through her room. She said the laundry is in my hamper please get in. I opened the hamper and looked inside. It was all lingerie. Panties, Bras, slips, teddy’s, hose and other delicate items. “Bobbie dear, seeing as you like to handle my panties, you might as well clean them. Be gentle with them they are delicate. I filled the sink with water and Suzy showed me how much of the fine washable fluid to add. “I’ll only show you this once, and then I expect you to get it right on your own the next time”. I was puzzled because I would be moving into my own Stradford apartment just as soon as Suzy got permission from the committee. One by one I took the panties out of the hamper.

“Suzy said, “Don’t they feel divine wet” She helped me by showing me how to immerse the garments and to make sure they wear clean. Once cleaned, she showed me how to hang them up. “Be very careful with my undergarments dear. I will not tolerate a run or a nick. Carelessness will e punished!” With that she removed her robe. “Wash this too” I want you to get the stain out before it sets. I was staring at her when she broke my trance. “Do you like my body?” She rubbed her hands on her breasts, tweaking her nipples through her bra. “Do you like my breasts, or my bra, or both?” I stammered, your breasts…your bra…”. She slid her fingers over her tight stomach. She touched the top of her panties. She slipped a finger in the waistband and traced the waistband back and fourth over her stomach. “Do you like my pussy, or my panties, or both? I gulped, “both”. Finish your chores Bobbie dear and join me in the bedroom, we have to prepare for the committee. I handled the delicates and hung them. All around me were her panties, bra, garters, stocking and slips. Her bathroom looked like a lingerie store. I was in heaven. My jeans were bulging when I left the bathroom.

She was seated on the stool in front of her makeup mirror. “Stand behind me please” she commanded. “Brush my hair and lets talk”. I was given a brush and began running it through her hair. Suzy’s hair was jet black and thick. Her eyes were grey blue. She looked at me as she took off her make up. I was looking at her breast peeking through her delicate brassiere. “You do that quite well, are you enjoying yourself?” Well? I admitted that I like it. She then turned around and said “unzip your pants, right now”. I was shocked, but could not deny her request. I unzipped my pants and revealed my boxer shorts. She giggled, “Take those silly things off as well”. I put my hands in front of my penis to hide it. She slapped my hands away. I was erect. “Why Bobbie you are so excited”. With that she slapped my member and my erection immediately left. I doubled over and she took hold of my now limp member. She seemed to be weighing it. “Well this isn’t too offensive”. I was confused. I wanted her to suck it. She was extraordinary. Her legs were slightly spread and her face was eye level. The panty material was stretched tight across her pussy lips. I could tell she was damp and could smell her sex. I was erecting again when she released me. “Go to the top drawer and select a panty for me to wear to bed. I like to wear a panty to….oh that’s right you know that already”. Things were moving too fast. I opened the draw. My eyes were greeted with the vision of panties. All colors and styles were accounted. “Sweetie, Sweetie” I realized Suzy was talking to me. “Hurry up I’m tired”. I selected French cut blue panties of silk. “How sexy”, Suzy cried. “Help me out of my panties” I did as I was told and got to touch her body as I slid the garment off of her. “Now my bra” I unclasp her bra and reached around releasing the cups from her breasts. I was sweating and excited. I knelt as she stepped into the panties I had selected for her. I was proud to have served her. She took my face in her hand and said, ” You’ve done well and I’m proud of you. Tomorrow, we will meet with the committee, they have strange ways but I’m sure you will do well. At 9:00 Yvette will bring breakfast then we are going to the pool. She kissed me on the forehead. Her hand brushed my erection and her breasts brushed my shirt. She handed me her panties. “I know you will know what to do with these.” “You made me so wet tonight”. “Remember to clean them after you finish” I was trying to talk when she pushed me into the bathroom and closed the door. “Night, Night sweetie”. I got undressed and got into bed. I tried to ignore her delicate panties but could not. I smelled them and they were her. I rubbed the crotch and felt her dampness. I realized again that I was stroking myself. I put the panties over my erection and spent into the garment. What I didn’t see was the camera above my bed that was taping and broadcasting my private experience! In the next room, Suzy turned off the television and went to sleep with a smile on her face. Oh the secrets of The Stradford. The alarm went off and I opened my eyes to see another Stradford employee in front of me. Her badge said her name was Yvette. She too was perfect. Her outfit was immaculate and her lips and nails were blood red. Her heels were the highest I’ve seen. I was already excited. What was I doing here. I’m just an entering freshman, what is going on. She bade me get up. I went into the bathroom. I got into the shower. When I got out I went into the bedroom. All of my luggage was gone. I screamed and Suzy walked into the room. She was in a bikini. Her skin was olive and the suit was white. Her bottom was a full cut and the top barley covered her nipples! “Sweetie, don’t fret Yvette is going to clean all of your clothes now hurry”. “Oh Bobbie, remember what you promised”. She had hooked her beige panties that she had given me the night before around her little finger. She had a smile on her face. “Clean them and get ready.” I soaked her panties in the sink. I was embarrassed. Then I realized I had nothing to wear. Suzy, anticipating my needs came in and threw me a suit. Put this on. I snapped out the suit and realized it was a bikini bottom with a floral print.

“We don’t have tome to discuss this, we meet at 12 with the committee and you don’t look presentable. Honestly I don’t know why I help you. Why don’t you go back to student housing. I found myself practically begging to put the suit on. She held it out for me. I waited for her to leave the room. She did not. Instead she watched be slip the garment up. She smoothed the lines brushes my penis several times. She gave me some sandals and said lets go. I walked out of the apartment with her holding my hand and reassuring me. We got onto the elevator. Another Stradford Woman was operating the elevator she looked at me and turned around. “See Bobbie dear you look so sweet.” The door opened and we left the elevator. We walked down a hall and out a side door.. The pool was alive with people, and I was humiliated. In her heel and in general, Suzy was taller than me. She held my hand as we negotiated the many chairs. I found it odd that I saw no men. She said hello to everyone and failed to introduce me to anyone. I did see one strange thing: A young woman in a one piece black bathing suit was sitting in a chair with a strap around her mouth. I asked Suzy what that was about. “She smiled and said that I would learn.” Finally we sat down. Two Stradford Girls came over. They were perfect. However, instead of the long skirts, they wore shorter skirts (thigh high) and tank tops. The outfits were pastels. Suzy introduced Mabel and Cassie. Mable was holding her tray in both hands. She asked for drink orders. As she leaving, Suzy put her hand under Mabels skirt. She stroked her yellow pantied bottom. I could see Suzy’s nipple grow under her bikini top. Just as quick as the petting began it stopped. I gave Suzy her privacy. I was embarrassed lying in front Cassie in a bikini bottom. Suzy said, apply lotion all over Bobbie his skin is so delicate I don’t want him to burn. Cassie turned and bent over. She did not bend her knees. She exposed her pantied bottom. The difference was that she wore black panties and that she had hand marks on her bottom. She had just been spanked! I was excited and scared. I was so confused. Cassie turned around and squirted some liquid from a bottle with no name on it. She rubbed the fluid all over my legs massaging me. She work up my legs until she was at my rear end. She continued to liberally apply the fluid and let her hand wonder under the bikini bottom. I was so excited I knew I could not turn over. She applied the potion to my back and arms. I was in a trance. “Turn over”, demanded Suzy. I did not comply. I was too erect. “I won’t ask again, I thought we discussed this earlier”. I acquiesced and rolled over Suzy was smiling and Cassie continued. She applied the fluid from face to my neck, armpits, arms chest and my lower torso. Cassie then traced my bikini line and let her hand slide into the bottom. I leaned back and let her. That hand was all over my crotch. Right when I was about to cum, she took her hand away and stood behind Suzy. “Nicely done Cassie, I’ll make note of the job you did today, you may go. “If I can serve you in any other way please ask, said Cassie. She turned on her extremely high heel and left. We sat in the sun for two hours. Suzy woke me and took me upstairs. “we have to hurry, committee meets in an hour” I jumped into the shower and realized that all of my body hair was coming off. I called to Suzy, “what was in that lotion?” “She said I don’t know”. She rubbed my naked behind and said, I like you hairless. You have such soft skin”. I went back to my room. My clothes were still not back. I ran into Suzy’s room. “I have nothing to wear”. She was adjusting a red bra that barely covered her nipples and was also wearing full cut red panties. She was so slim so beautiful. I stopped to admire her. She put on a dress and brushed her hair. She turned and said, “I’ll lend you some of my things.” She went to the wall and pressed a button.

Moments later still another Stradford Girl was introduced to me. Her name was Colette. She was quite tall about 5 11 with the heels. Her lips were full and she wore the same long skirt and full blouse I saw yesterday.

Colette, as you see Bobbie here is not yet dressed. Take him to the mirror and dust him while I select some clothing. Dust him, what does that mean I thought, “Stop covering yourself Bobbie dear Colette is expert at what she does, enjoy one of the pleasures of Stradford.

She walked me to the mirror and started applying dusting powder to my body. She left no spot undusted. The application was exquisite and I was erect. Colette did not meet my eyes she just applied the powder.

“This will never do” said Suzy. I have some things for you to wear, but you will never fit into them in your state.

I looked at some of the garments in her arms. I cant wear your panties and those shorts with that blouse to meet the committee. “you can and you will”. “Colette, you know what to do”.

Colette stepped back and slid here hands up her skirt. Seconds later her white panties were in a puddle at her feet. She picked them up, kneeled down in front of me and started to masturbate me with her panties. I saw Suzy’s reflection in my mirror smiling. In just two minutes I was ejaculating into her panties. She was milking me expertly. I heard screaming and realized it was me. Colette wiped my now flaccid penis with her panties. She then took the panties from Suzy and help them out for me to step into them. I was glad when the panties were on. They were peach cotton panties. I put on the shorts and then the blouse. The outfit was feminine. Just then, Suzy said, we’re late lets go. Suzy sent Colette out. “Tell them we’re ready and tell your Mistress you did well. Show her the sodden panties as well. “If I can serve you in any other way, please let me know”. She then turned and left the apartment. But… “But nothing”, said Suzy. Clearly she was miffed. But But. “But what?” her anger was rising. “I have no shoes to wear”. “Well we must see that you are properly shod”. With that Suzy went to the bedroom and came back with some sandals.

Clearly they were feminine, however thoughts of rebellion had been ejaculated out of me several moments ago. “You look absolutely radiant Bobbie”. I saw her look me up and down. My shorts were tight and the blouse offered little in the way of comfort with all of its lace and ruffle and yet had no sleeves. We walked to the door and all I heard was the clicking of the sandals. Suzy in heels seemed to tower over me. She was in a sun dress that saw lingerie peeking out all over. I thought that it was short, way above the knee. But she was beautiful. Out the door we walked and she held my hand, I felt safe.

Walking down the hall I heard crying and a girls voice counting. I asked Suzy and she said we’re late and that we had to go. I had trouble keeping up with her and yet she was not running.

As we got closer to the elevator we heard the girl count “9” “10”. The door to the apartment was open and I immediately recognized the uniform of a Stradford Girl. She was bent over at the waist, her long skirt was draped over her and her white pantied bottom was exposed and quite red. Suzy ignored the scene. She tapped her heel on the floor waiting for the elevator. I looked in the apartment and saw a beautiful woman with Auburn hair. She was quite short and yet had a beautiful figure. She was in a floral two piece bathing suit. As I continued to peek, the Stradford Girl dropped her skirt and turned to face her tormentor. The elevator bell rang and I only got to see the make-up smeared girls face as she dropped to her knees to kiss the hand of the woman who had just beaten her bottom!

Suzy pulled me onto the elevator. The Stradford Girl assigned to the elevator welcomed us. She was as pretty as the others. They clearly had grace and discipline, this was obvious to even me.

Susan took the opportunity to open her purse. She said, “your lips look chapped”, “Ill apply some ointment”. I said thank you and liked the attention. She rubbed the container which I could not see and applied the ointment to my lips. “Make a kiss” she laughed, “make a kiss”.

“how sweet, it feels better doesn’t it?”

Another bell rang and the Stradford Girl said, “if I may ever serve you again please do not hesitate to ask”.

We were on a floor I did not recognize. Suzy pulled me into a room off the elevator. We were alone. “Don’t embarrass me”. I’m out on a limb for you”.

She was bending at the waist, chastising me like I was a small child. “Stradford is a very special place, you must have respect for our ways”. ” Otherwise you can leave this instant and find housing on your own”. I doubt you will find any housing and if you did, it would not be affordable”. “and, judging from the attention you’ve received in the past 24 hours, Stradford seems like a place you’d like to be”. She grabbed my chin, and reminded me again no to embarrass her.

Part Two

We walked out of the room and in moments were standing in front of the door marked Committee Meeting Room. My heart raced, I was dressed as a freak, what would they think? Suzy sensed my anguish and took hold of my hand. She was wonderful. “Remember”, she said. Prior to walking in, and unbeknownst to me, the events of last night were being shown to the ladies of the committee. When the tape was finished, there was clapping and giggling. The door was opened to the committee room and in we walked. The room was dark. I guessed that 20 women were in the audience and could see 7 women on the committee seated in the front of the chair around a table.

Behind each woman was a Stradford Girl. All had their hair pulled back away from their beautiful faces. This seemed to accentuate their full lips. The uniform of blouse and pleated skirts were the same. I guessed that they had white panties on as well. My head was swimming. I heard several voices from the gallery, “Suzy’s got another one”. “How cute! I’m jealous”. Suzy just kept walking and in a moment we were in the front of the room. In front of the gallery was a stool with a little thumb of wood sticking out about an inch long.

Suzy released me and from behind 2 Stradford girls collected me and took me to that stool. Suzy stood up by the committee members. The girls sat me down. I wanted to comply with Suzy’s wishes. I tried to push the thumb of wood down but it wouldn’t go. Several peals of laughter filled the room.

“As soon as Bobbie has taken a seat we can commence with today’s proceedings”, said one of the women. They were all dressed in the same kind of garb. They had on sun dresses which barely concealed their legs and behinds standing. I sat down and had to place the wooden nub right at my anus to be comfortable. When I moved, I penetrated myself. I wished the stool had some arms and some leg supports. I had to impale myself! Balancing myself was quite difficult and leaning just the slightest bit caused penetration of my behind through the shorts and the panties.

A gavel was slammed and everyone found a seat except for Suzy. Suzy stood off to the right and watched the proceedings. When the women sat down, I could easily see their panties from under the table. In fact because the table was above my eye level, I found myself face to face, practically, with their pantied pudendas! The women were looking down at me and smiling. Some fluttered their legs. What is going on I thought. I’m dressed as a girl, my bottom is being invaded and I’m in a room full of women. My stream of thoughts were broken. The committee chairwoman wearing white eyelet panties asked for my application. I heard a series of stamps, and then the questions began.

“You have no family”,


“Where did you come from”,

“I was admitted to college from a boys home”

“Okay”, and do you have any trustees, or legal guardians?”


“Suzy the paperwork is in order and we are prepared to offer you a waiver to allow Bobbie to stay for one month, of course Bobbie will need a physical”.

I continued to squirm and realized that the effects of the nub in my rectum and looking up the girls skirts was exciting me. I also knew that Suzy would be angry with me so I tried to control myself.

For the next several minutes questions were asked of me. Each panel member asked and each panel member showed me a delicious view of her panties. Some put their hands down between their legs and caressed themselves. Eyes closed and lips parted slightly. These woman simply did not care who saw them pleasuring themselves. I was bursting out of the panties. The shorts were so confining. I tried to balance myself and with each movement I penetrated myself further. I could feel the moisture in front of my panties. I tried to relax. “Application approved!” The woman all got up and shook Suzy’s hand and kissed her. Some were more demonstrative with their kisses then others. The room was filled with applause.

“I can’t wait to see this one get initiated” said a voice from the dark.

After a few moments Suzy came down and kissed me on the lips. Then she took out her purse and put the lip balm back on.

“You were fine” I said yes but I have this nub in my rectum. “Delightful isn’t it she giggled”. “It won’t be long now be a lamb and be patient”.

The committee sat back down and again we were both treated with a view of their panties. Suzy whispered in my ear and asked me if I liked any of the styles. She said she would get them for me. I was mortified.

The gavel started the discipline and reward section of the meeting. Gabrielle and Stacy were called and the two Stradford Girls walked to the front of the room.

Behind them stood two woman that moments later we learned were their Mistresses. Later I learned that all of the Stradford Girls had mistresses.

Another committee member stood and said something about obedience and responding to training. She opened a box and the girl named Gabrielle was presented with a lovely pair of panties. She hiked her skirt up and took off her panties I thought I saw something but it happened too quick. Her white panties were replaced with pink panties. Cheers filled the room and her mistress gave her a long hard kiss. Lesbianism seemed to be more than tolerated here. In my ear I heard Suzy ask me if I was excited, The stool and the scenes had me in a state. Just then the second girl Stacy was presented with a pair of black panties and slid her yellow panties down to the floor. Several speeches were made. These Stradford Girls were all so beautiful and charming. Again the gavel called the meeting to order. The discipline session was set to begin. Only one Stradford girl was taken to the front. Her blouse was removed and she wore a charming bra of satin and lace. Her small breast rose and fell. Two Stradford Girls quickly removed her long skirt. We all caught a fast glimpse of her panties of ivory and then a smaller skirt was placed around her small waist. The skirt revealed practically all of her pantied bottom but gave her front some modesty. Suzy had been touching me gently throughout the proceedings, she knew how excited I was. Then the Stradford Girl named Ashley was taken to an area that had a bar suspended above it. the bar was lowered and her hands were attached by some ribbons. The bar was raised and this poor girl was suspended on the tip toes of her heels. Yet her nipples were poking through her bra cups. The lights were lowered and a spotlight was put on the tied Stradford Girl.

Suzy asked me If I liked having my bottom played with, “You like that thumb in your rectum don’t you?”. She then unzipped my shorts and began playing with my erection. “How sweet, you are so wet!”. Suzy continued the torture and music was playing in the background.

Another woman entered dressed in an extremely tight black corset with red ribbons. Her bottom was tightly secured by beautiful red lace panties. She was magnificent.

She walked up to suspended girl and said please don’t embarrass me. You broke rules and will be punished. She took an index finger and began sliding in and out of the girls mouth. On either side of her were two Stradford Girls. How many of them were there? She sucked on those fingers greedily while Suzy continued to masturbate me. Suzy was also pinching my nipples mercilessly and always that nub was in my bottom. Ashley was stretched out and her torso was beautifully feminine. She was remarkably trim. Her mistress was equally beautiful. And now was exposing one of her little breasts. She bade a Stradford girl bring her a box and then took out some menacing nipple claps. The cups of the bra were pulled down and the clamps were attached. A chain connected these claps. I could see beads of sweat forming on Ashley’s forehead. The hand of the mistress disappeared beneath the short skirt. We could not see what was happening but clearly Ashley was experiencing great discomfort.

White light filled the room. I experienced great pain and then I realized that Suzy had squeezed one on my testicles. I almost fell off of the stool. Suzy bit my ear lobe and told me, “Rewards are given for cooperation and punishment for infractions and disobedience. Do you understand?” I said “yes” and she was delicately stroking my pantied erection again. Back up front, the mistress was pulling at the nipple clamps and turning Ashley so her back faced the audience. Her back was small and supple, so girl like with a small waist and her pantied bottom was clearly exposed. Bra straps crisscrossed her back affording support of her lovely small breasts. Her mistress stroked Ashley’s bottom. Suzy continued to frisk my member. “Do you think you are going to wet another pair of panties?” I was in another world. Without warning, the mistress pulled down Ashley’s panties to just below her bottom in the back and commenced to spanking her without compassion. After just 10 spanks the girl was in tears. This knowledge seemed to inflame her mistress who took out a riding crop and beat her in earnest. Sounds filled the room. The audience was clearly enjoying themselves.

Suzy was still manipulating me and said, “Remember to be good, or that could be you”. Ashley’s bottom was beet red when her mistress stopped.

A Stradford Girl pulled up Ashley’s panties and turned her to face her mistress. The clamps were removed from her nipples which were now swollen. Ashley’s mistress then kissed Ashley for about a minute. After the kiss ended, her skirt was changed and her breasts were placed in their cups and her blouse was returned to her form.

She kissed her mistresses hand and said, “If I ever may be of service to you please ask.” The lights came up and I realized that the women above me had been watching Suzy masturbate me through the whole session. In fact, Suzy’s fingers were wrapped around my member and still stroking as they watched. Why was I excited by this? Had I lost my mind?

Suzy removed her hand. The meeting was ended. I was allowed to rise. Off of the stool, I was glad to have my rectum unburdened.

Suzy giggled and pointed to another corner of the room where a similar stool was that had a nub of wood four times larger!. “Remember to be good”. she mused. I stood with my erection. Try as I did the shorts would not zip due to my state. I was trying still more when I realized that the seven girls were in front of me. They smiled and welcomed me.

I placed my hands in front of offending member. Suzy slapped my hands away. Just then a woman stepped forward introduced herself and gave me a package and then a kiss. Her hands took liberties and dwelled on my moist erect penis. One by one they all did the same thing. Each woman was more brazen than the last one. This was in front of the entire audience.

When I thought I could stand no more, I realized that Gabrielle had me by my arm and was pulling me away from the women. She held out a pair of white panties, the same as she was wearing just 30 minutes ago. She kissed me and said they were for me. She took me from the room and I saw Suzy give me a nod of approval. The lights in the room were lowered as I left. I was taken to a mirrored room. There were clothes on the floor, neatly arranged. “Quickly” said Gabrielle, “We have to get you ready to see the Doctor”. “If you fail the physical then you will be asked to leave Stradford.”

Gabrielle was a beautiful woman. I was amazed by how accustomed I had become at having women handle me in the past 24 hours. I wanted to please them. She took off my top and told me to remove the shorts. “Your panties are so cute”. “But, they are too wet”. You must be faint from exhaustion”, take them off this instant.” I obeyed and was naked.

I looked in the mirror and saw that my lips had been rouged a bright red. Before I could say anything, Gabrielle gave me a undershirt of dusty rose and a blouse similar to hers. She then handed me the same type of skirt she was wearing.

“I can’t wear this outfit, its just like yours”. “I’m a man not a woman”. “You had better cooperate or you will be out of luck”, “Suzy is a woman not be trifled with” “You’ll let her help you if you are smart and be grateful”. “Now be still and hold your skirt up”. I held my skirt up and she held out the panties for me to step into them.

Mirrors surrounded us and I got all angles as the panties were slipped up my smooth legs. She stopped at my thighs. I was erect again and she held my penis and looked up at me. I closed my eyes as she took me into her mouth. Up and down, licking me and sucking me. She was skilled in the oral arts and knew how to pleasure a man even if he was in skirts. It didn’t take long. I climaxed as she slid a finger into my rectum. She dried me, licked her lips and slid the panties into place. “Drop your skirts dear”. I heard clapping in the next room.

“Whats going on”, I asked.

Nothing she responded with a smile.

Later I was to learn that Gabrielle’s pleasuring me had allowed her to reach a new plateau in her training. I also learned that the room had cameras behind the mirrors and all of the women in the committee room had watched the “show”.

I was sent out of the room and greeted by Suzy. “What a lovely skirt. I’m surprised they let you wear it. You have to earn it”. “You seemed flushed”, well we must hurry back to the apartment, we have a Doctors appointment at 4:00pm”. “I’m very proud of you”. She gave me a kiss. I was confused and exhausted. What was happening to me and why was I letting it happen to me and enjoying it as well. With that we left the room. So many people were talking and yet I heard no one.

Suzy reminded me to get the gifts from the committee. We can open them later she told me. I tried to manage the skirt but it was long. “You’ll get used to it” said Suzy. What has become of me raced through my mind as I nervously bit my lip and tasted the lipstick.

Part Three

We walked out of the room and in moments were standing in front of the door marked Committee Meeting Room. My heart raced, I was dressed as a freak, what would they think? Suzy sensed my anguish and took hold of my hand. She was wonderful. “Remember”, she said. Prior to walking in, and unbeknownst to me, the events of last night were being shown to the ladies of the committee. When the tape was finished, there was clapping and giggling. The door was opened to the committee room and in we walked. The room was dark. I guessed that 20 women were in the audience and could see 7 women on the committee seated in the front of the chair around a table.

Behind each woman was a Stradford Girl. All had their hair pulled back away from their beautiful faces. This seemed to accentuate their full lips. The uniform of blouse and pleated skirts were the same. I guessed that they had white panties on as well. My head was swimming. I heard several voices from the gallery, “Suzy’s got another one”. “How cute! I’m jealous”. Suzy just kept walking and in a moment we were in the front of the room. In front of the gallery was a stool with a little thumb of wood sticking out about an inch long.

Suzy released me and from behind 2 Stradford girls collected me and took me to that stool. Suzy stood up by the committee members. The girls sat me down. I wanted to comply with Suzy’s wishes. I tried to push the thumb of wood down but it wouldn’t go. Several peals of laughter filled the room.

“As soon as Bobbie has taken a seat we can commence with today’s proceedings”, said one of the women. They were all dressed in the same kind of garb. They had on sun dresses which barely concealed their legs and behinds standing. I sat down and had to place the wooden nub right at my anus to be comfortable. When I moved, I penetrated myself. I wished the stool had some arms and some leg supports. I had to impale myself! Balancing myself was quite difficult and leaning just the slightest bit caused penetration of my behind through the shorts and the panties.

A gavel was slammed and everyone found a seat except for Suzy. Suzy stood off to the right and watched the proceedings. When the women sat down, I could easily see their panties from under the table. In fact because the table was above my eye level, I found myself face to face, practically, with their pantied pudendas! The women were looking down at me and smiling. Some fluttered their legs. What is going on I thought. I’m dressed as a girl, my bottom is being invaded and I’m in a room full of women. My stream of thoughts were broken. The committee chairwoman wearing white eyelet panties asked for my application. I heard a series of stamps, and then the questions began.

“You have no family”,


“Where did you come from”,

“I was admitted to college from a boys home”

“Okay”, and do you have any trustees, or legal guardians?”


“Suzy the paperwork is in order and we are prepared to offer you a waiver to allow Bobbie to stay for one month, of course Bobbie will need a physical”.

I continued to squirm and realized that the effects of the nub in my rectum and looking up the girls skirts was exciting me. I also knew that Suzy would be angry with me so I tried to control myself.

For the next several minutes questions were asked of me. Each panel member asked and each panel member showed me a delicious view of her panties. Some put their hands down between their legs and caressed themselves. Eyes closed and lips parted slightly. These woman simply did not care who saw them pleasuring themselves. I was bursting out of the panties. The shorts were so confining. I tried to balance myself and with each movement I penetrated myself further. I could feel the moisture in front of my panties. I tried to relax. “Application approved!” The woman all got up and shook Suzy’s hand and kissed her. Some were more demonstrative with their kisses then others. The room was filled with applause.

“I can’t wait to see this one get initiated” said a voice from the dark.

After a few moments Suzy came down and kissed me on the lips. Then she took out her purse and put the lip balm back on.

“You were fine” I said yes but I have this nub in my rectum. “Delightful isn’t it she giggled”. “It won’t be long now be a lamb and be patient”.

The committee sat back down and again we were both treated with a view of their panties. Suzy whispered in my ear and asked me if I liked any of the styles. She said she would get them for me. I was mortified.

The gavel started the discipline and reward section of the meeting. Gabrielle and Stacy were called and the two Stradford Girls walked to the front of the room.

Behind them stood two woman that moments later we learned were their Mistresses. Later I learned that all of the Stradford Girls had mistresses.

Another committee member stood and said something about obedience and responding to training. She opened a box and the girl named Gabrielle was presented with a lovely pair of panties. She hiked her skirt up and took off her panties I thought I saw something but it happened too quick. Her white panties were replaced with pink panties. Cheers filled the room and her mistress gave her a long hard kiss. Lesbianism seemed to be more than tolerated here. In my ear I heard Suzy ask me if I was excited, The stool and the scenes had me in a state. Just then the second girl Stacy was presented with a pair of black panties and slid her yellow panties down to the floor. Several speeches were made. These Stradford Girls were all so beautiful and charming. Again the gavel called the meeting to order. The discipline session was set to begin. Only one Stradford girl was taken to the front. Her blouse was removed and she wore a charming bra of satin and lace. Her small breast rose and fell. Two Stradford Girls quickly removed her long skirt. We all caught a fast glimpse of her panties of ivory and then a smaller skirt was placed around her small waist. The skirt revealed practically all of her pantied bottom but gave her front some modesty. Suzy had been touching me gently throughout the proceedings, she knew how excited I was. Then the Stradford Girl named Ashley was taken to an area that had a bar suspended above it. the bar was lowered and her hands were attached by some ribbons. The bar was raised and this poor girl was suspended on the tip toes of her heels. Yet her nipples were poking through her bra cups. The lights were lowered and a spotlight was put on the tied Stradford Girl.

Suzy asked me If I liked having my bottom played with, “You like that thumb in your rectum don’t you?”. She then unzipped my shorts and began playing with my erection. “How sweet, you are so wet!”. Suzy continued the torture and music was playing in the background.

Another woman entered dressed in an extremely tight black corset with red ribbons. Her bottom was tightly secured by beautiful red lace panties. She was magnificent.

She walked up to suspended girl and said please don’t embarrass me. You broke rules and will be punished. She took an index finger and began sliding in and out of the girls mouth. On either side of her were two Stradford Girls. How many of them were there? She sucked on those fingers greedily while Suzy continued to masturbate me. Suzy was also pinching my nipples mercilessly and always that nub was in my bottom. Ashley was stretched out and her torso was beautifully feminine. She was remarkably trim. Her mistress was equally beautiful. And now was exposing one of her little breasts. She bade a Stradford girl bring her a box and then took out some menacing nipple claps. The cups of the bra were pulled down and the clamps were attached. A chain connected these claps. I could see beads of sweat forming on Ashley’s forehead. The hand of the mistress disappeared beneath the short skirt. We could not see what was happening but clearly Ashley was experiencing great discomfort.

White light filled the room. I experienced great pain and then I realized that Suzy had squeezed one on my testicles. I almost fell off of the stool. Suzy bit my ear lobe and told me, “Rewards are given for cooperation and punishment for infractions and disobedience. Do you understand?” I said “yes” and she was delicately stroking my pantied erection again. Back up front, the mistress was pulling at the nipple clamps and turning Ashley so her back faced the audience. Her back was small and supple, so girl like with a small waist and her pantied bottom was clearly exposed. Bra straps crisscrossed her back affording support of her lovely small breasts. Her mistress stroked Ashley’s bottom. Suzy continued to frisk my member. “Do you think you are going to wet another pair of panties?” I was in another world. Without warning, the mistress pulled down Ashley’s panties to just below her bottom in the back and commenced to spanking her without compassion. After just 10 spanks the girl was in tears. This knowledge seemed to inflame her mistress who took out a riding crop and beat her in earnest. Sounds filled the room. The audience was clearly enjoying themselves.

Suzy was still manipulating me and said, “Remember to be good, or that could be you”. Ashley’s bottom was beet red when her mistress stopped.

A Stradford Girl pulled up Ashley’s panties and turned her to face her mistress. The clamps were removed from her nipples which were now swollen. Ashley’s mistress then kissed Ashley for about a minute. After the kiss ended, her skirt was changed and her breasts were placed in their cups and her blouse was returned to her form.

She kissed her mistresses hand and said, “If I ever may be of service to you please ask.” The lights came up and I realized that the women above me had been watching Suzy masturbate me through the whole session. In fact, Suzy’s fingers were wrapped around my member and still stroking as they watched. Why was I excited by this? Had I lost my mind?

Suzy removed her hand. The meeting was ended. I was allowed to rise. Off of the stool, I was glad to have my rectum unburdened.

Suzy giggled and pointed to another corner of the room where a similar stool was that had a nub of wood four times larger!. “Remember to be good”. she mused. I stood with my erection. Try as I did the shorts would not zip due to my state. I was trying still more when I realized that the seven girls were in front of me. They smiled and welcomed me.

I placed my hands in front of offending member. Suzy slapped my hands away. Just then a woman stepped forward introduced herself and gave me a package and then a kiss. Her hands took liberties and dwelled on my moist erect penis. One by one they all did the same thing. Each woman was more brazen than the last one. This was in front of the entire audience.

When I thought I could stand no more, I realized that Gabrielle had me by my arm and was pulling me away from the women. She held out a pair of white panties, the same as she was wearing just 30 minutes ago. She kissed me and said they were for me. She took me from the room and I saw Suzy give me a nod of approval. The lights in the room were lowered as I left. I was taken to a mirrored room. There were clothes on the floor, neatly arranged. “Quickly” said Gabrielle, “We have to get you ready to see the Doctor”. “If you fail the physical then you will be asked to leave Stradford.”

Gabrielle was a beautiful woman. I was amazed by how accustomed I had become at having women handle me in the past 24 hours. I wanted to please them. She took off my top and told me to remove the shorts. “Your panties are so cute”. “But, they are too wet”. You must be faint from exhaustion”, take them off this instant.” I obeyed and was naked.

I looked in the mirror and saw that my lips had been rouged a bright red. Before I could say anything, Gabrielle gave me a undershirt of dusty rose and a blouse similar to hers. She then handed me the same type of skirt she was wearing.

“I can’t wear this outfit, its just like yours”. “I’m a man not a woman”. “You had better cooperate or you will be out of luck”, “Suzy is a woman not be trifled with” “You’ll let her help you if you are smart and be grateful”. “Now be still and hold your skirt up”. I held my skirt up and she held out the panties for me to step into them.

Mirrors surrounded us and I got all angles as the panties were slipped up my smooth legs. She stopped at my thighs. I was erect again and she held my penis and looked up at me. I closed my eyes as she took me into her mouth. Up and down, licking me and sucking me. She was skilled in the oral arts and knew how to pleasure a man even if he was in skirts. It didn’t take long. I climaxed as she slid a finger into my rectum. She dried me, licked her lips and slid the panties into place. “Drop your skirts dear”. I heard clapping in the next room.

“Whats going on”, I asked.

Nothing she responded with a smile.

Later I was to learn that Gabrielle’s pleasuring me had allowed her to reach a new plateau in her training. I also learned that the room had cameras behind the mirrors and all of the women in the committee room had watched the “show”.

I was sent out of the room and greeted by Suzy. “What a lovely skirt. I’m surprised they let you wear it. You have to earn it”. “You seemed flushed”, well we must hurry back to the apartment, we have a Doctors appointment at 4:00pm”. “I’m very proud of you”. She gave me a kiss. I was confused and exhausted. What was happening to me and why was I letting it happen to me and enjoying it as well. With that we left the room. So many people were talking and yet I heard no one.

Suzy reminded me to get the gifts from the committee. We can open them later she told me. I tried to manage the skirt but it was long. “You’ll get used to it” said Suzy. What has become of me raced through my mind as I nervously bit my lip and tasted the lipstick.

The End

Additional Reading

Letter to the Staff

Letter to the Staff of Sissify

(as dictated to Vickie Tern)

Dear Sissify Staff:

I think you should know how my signing on with you has changed my life. I know I’m happier now by far, but that isn’t up to me any more. My girlfriend now owns me and she’s so satisfied with me that finally she has decided to marry me. But ours hasn’t exactly been a typical romance. I’d better tell you about it.

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. That’s why I joined up immediately when I saw your web site instructing me how to become a virtual girl. It was fun obeying your orders, and pretending I was doing all those feminine things, and then reading your encouraging messages.

Well, it happens that a couple of months ago I was reading where you explain to sissies how to 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 Sissify 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, that 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’t been any other men. There couldn’t have been. “Have you been?” I asked.

“That’s not the question. The 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 “Sissify.” 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 acknowledgement.

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 hope you’ll like the new relationship I have in mind, and that afterward you’ll truly appreciate what I’ve done. If you do, we may even end up married after all!”

My heart bounded up at that, and I felt it beat powerfully inside 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 the 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! The entire lower part of me went into orgasm!

Which may be why I felt nothing at all from Kate at that moment. I expected her to fasten the collar, or attach a lasso to my balls and lead me away for binding.

She did no such thing. In fact she didn’t even know I’d just enjoyed the greatest climax of my life. As the glow subsided I realized that the whole grand process had been hidden in the deep folds of my belly and thighs, and my cum wasn’t evident anywhere just yet.

She merely resumed speaking. But this time I heard a note of elation in her voice, even though she was trying to maintain the same controlled tone she’d used earlier. Not casual, though a touch negligent. Firm, the voice a Mistress should use when speaking to her servant. But now it also sounded exultant.

“Annie, there is no going back now. You’re already changing! The two pricks you just felt in your rear end were two intramuscular injections to help get the process under way the moment I had your fully informed consent, tape recorded and repeated three times.”

“Both injections are long term. One will really sissify you as rapidly as medicine knows how. It will pump estrogen estradiol and progesterone and certain androgen suppressants into your body for the next two weeks. Then after we evaluate your body’s response to the dosage we’ll implant patches in you so the process can continue and finish without anyone giving it further thought. It will give you a girl’s way of thinking and feeling, and many characteristics of a girl’s body. You’re going to be a girl in your body, not just in your mind.”

“The other shot was a tranquilizer-sedative, the kind we give to patients undergoing minor surgical procedures. I want to keep you mellowed out for the next few days, peaceably asleep, because I want you to remember this initiation with joy, with no associated pain or soreness. When you awaken, you’ll be fitted with your pledge to me, my symbol of ownership. I’ve just arranged it with Claire, and she’ll be here shortly to help me fit it properly. For now only you will know it’s there, though you’ll never be able to forget it’s there. Until you want everyone to know, and that will be much sooner than you imagine.”

“Annie, you are a dear! You’ll know soon enough how very dear you are to me! When you wake up.” Then she added, “Poor sweetie, you never did get to lick my pussy clean. Well, it’ll be here, and you’ll have lots of opportunities.”

I remember she said all that, and that it felt increasingly good that she was saying all those things. What was her “symbol”? Maybe body piercings? Maybe a ring in my “frenum,” whatever that was? Despite all that talk about shots and changing and all, everything she said was deeply satisfying, and I felt utterly content as I rolled over onto my side on the shag rug, asleep.

The next morning I opened my eyes. No! The calendar clock on our night table said I’d been asleep for three days! So three mornings later I woke up to sunshine flooding the room.

“There you are, Annie honey!” Kate said, drawing back the last curtain. Now the light seemed nearly blinding. “I’m on call now and I’ve just been called, but I’ll be

back to see how you’re getting on in about two hours. Today is the first day of the rest of your life, honey, and believe me, that’s not a cliche. You’ll lead a very different life from now on. Just lie there and rest. Your incisions are practically healed already, and you’ve been completely depillated, and now there’s nothing much for you to do but enjoy discovering the new you.”

She came over and stood over me. Gradually I remembered. Kate. She’d found out I was into humiliation fantasies, loss of masculinity and so on, caught me reading files in Sissify.Com. And she’d taken over, she owned me. I stared up at her, still unable to find words to speak. The weekend was over? That must have been some scene, I thought! Where was I while we played it out? Then I remembered that talk about tranquilizers, and sedatives, and not feeling sore.

“Ah, I see you’re with us again. Lie still a little longer. Remember, you’re mine now, and you are not to put anything of mine at risk. I want you to discover how I own you all by yourself, and when you do I want you to just lie there and do nothing but think about what it means. You pledged yourself to me, remember.”

I lifted my arms to inspect them, and finding nothing, reached down toward my crotch.

“No, there are no tattoos, and nothing fastened down there either. And no body parts missing. And nothing buckled or embossed or inscribed or punctured or pierced. What you’re wearing is implanted, its now part of you. What I want for you. In time they will become what you want. Understood?”

I nodded.

She left, closing the door gently. I lay there for a moment to gather more of my wits. Then I rolled over to climb out of bed.

I saw I was wearing one of her frilly nighties with puffed out sleeves. She had a few, though mostly she wore oversized T-Shirts to bed. My own PJ’s were all in the wash? This nightgown was left over from some feminization game we’d played while I was zonked, I guessed. My arms were hairless, absolutely smooth! My legs felt that way too! Well, I hoped she’d enjoyed the game! I felt sorry it was probably over.

Still leaning on one elbow and raised up, I felt a sort of pulling on my torso, as if something were hanging from me. A fold of the nightgown? No. Flesh that had been spread out across my chest while I lay on my back was now hanging down heavily from me in the form of two heavy pouches tipped with nipples, the nipples distended and brushing against the bed. Breasts. They were breasts.

My breasts! Large ones! Two of them! I stared unbelieving and abruptly put my legs over the side of the bed and sat up. Then I just sat there! With my shoulders slumped forward they sagged, though my skin was just firm enough to support them. 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 like small brown teacups projecting outward. I reached to heft one. Heavy! My fingers touched one of my nipples and a delicious tingle shot through me, spreading down to my crotch. I touched the other nipple. The same! O God, it felt so good! But I was a man! These were a woman’s breasts! This wasn’t one of my fantasies! Maybe one of Kate’s, but not mine! Well yes, having breasts had been one of my fantasies, but not in reality! Kate wasn’t playing just for the weekend! Had she tried to warn me of that?

She had! These were these the badges of my servitude. Kate meant to disintegrate my manhood, to really change me into a female. So it seemed. She’d said as much, I vaguely recalled. And I’d been so eager to submit to her! Now, by daylight it didn’t seem to be as good an idea. I glanced down further, and felt momentarily reassured that my cock and balls were still there.

I picked up a breast in each hand and then dropped them. They each jounced once, then hung there. Implants. Huge. Part of me. They were there all right. But they weren’t mine. I was theirs. And they belonged to Kate. She wanted me to take care of them for her. I held each in my hands again, gently this time, and stroked their nipples again with my thumbs. The most delectable feeling rose up in my groin, deep, sultry, luscious, as erotic as if my penis were being squeezed and stroked. Yet it stayed soft. I just sat there and caressed my new self with my thumbs. It felt good!

Chapter II

After a while, not quite as shaken as when I first sat up, I looked across the room. There on a chair within easy reach was a luminous blue satin dressing gown, a brighter shade than Kate usually wore, and a large, heavy-duty bra. Then as if to make up for the utilitarian massiveness of the bra, 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 was perfumed, that floral scent I remembered from before she went to work at the clinic, that she still wore when we went out somewhere fancy. I breathed it in and opened the note, and read:

* * *

“My Darling Annie, or if it’s Andy reading this, my poor bewildered Andy. First, I want to remind you, whichever you are, that you are *mine*, not your own person. You pledged yourself to me knowing

that I intended to do things you might not like, however deeply a desire for some them might be implanted in your psyche. I think you know now what I intend. I intend to make a woman of you. A real one, not a simpering transvestite concoction of one, which is probably all you’d have managed to make of yourself without me, and not a Drag Queen either. But also, not the kind of woman you’d be if you’d been born a girl and raised in the same circumstances you’ve enjoyed as a boy, not a restrained, educated professional woman. Not even a woman like me, more venturesome than you are, more of a take-charge kind of person. No, someone different.

“Brace yourself, darling. I want you to become my kind of woman, the kind I’d love to spend time with, and go out with, and make love with. And date men with. The kind I find exciting, as you’ve never been as a man. Impulsive. Playful, even silly at times. Instinctive and generous, warm hearted. Physical in many ways, most of them feminine — tender and demonstrative when you feel affectionate, which will be often, and sexy when you feel a yearning for that kind of pleasure, also often. Not too inhibited. In fact, a little smutty in pursuit of your pleasures. The kind of girl men are happy to find they’ve been fixed up with on a blind date, because attractive at first glance. The kind men remember the next day with smiles on their faces. And don’t be shocked dear. The kind of girl women can remember the next day with smiles. The kind I’ve always wanted to remember with smiles.

“If that isn’t you now, and I know it isn’t, that’s what will be you. You are mine. I’ve always wanted that kind of girlfriend, so that’s the kind of girl you will become. You’ll try with all your heart, soul, and might to become that girl. I know you will. You have no other future.

“When you’ve succeeded, when you like being that kind of girl, then you can be my friend as well as my servant, and we can enjoy that relationship too. You are already married to me, as you know. I may then be willing to marry you. But only then. We’ll see.


Ms. Katherine

P.S. You see in front of you the first intimate wear of the kind you will wear for the rest of your life, your first bra and panties. Congratulations, sweetheart. Also a rather lively gown, the kind Annie will soon love to wear as the truest expression of her own lively nature. I’m sorry the bra looks something like a washer woman’s, but your breasts, your pledge of servitude to me, need that kind of support right now. I’ve tried to make up for it by giving you panties a whore might blush to wear. Put them all on, and splash some of my cologne on too, and some matching scuffs from my closet. While you wait for me to return I want you to begin browsing through some of the women’s magazines I’ve accumulated downstairs, ads and all. They’re your kind of magazines now. They’re the sole occupation of your mind from now on.”

* * *

With my nightie off I saw Kate was true to her word, the only fringe of hair anywhere on my body was neatly trimmed around my pubes — the rest was smooth. I dressed as Ms. Katherine ordered. The bra felt heavy on my shoulders until I realized the weight was in my hanging tits, eased when I remembered to stand up very straight. But then they protruded out, way too far forward. I doubted even a loose sports jackets would cover them, much less a tailored suit jacket. How would I go to work? With a weight on my shoulders, or else with a lot of explaining. The panties were indeed teeny, designed to curve below the curve of my belly and across the curves of my buns. I didn’t have a woman’s sexily rounded buns yet, but I knew I’d get them, if not by hormones then by more implants. Kate would see to it.

I inspected myself in the mirror, and I saw a man with straight long hair — that’s how I liked it — wearing a large bra and skimpy scanties. Boobs nicely proportioned for his shoulders, which were a little large. The breasts would swell up even more when the hormones got hold of them, I realized, no doubt as part of Kate’s plan for me to look like a sex pot at anyone’s first glance. Waist a bit thick — I should diet. Then I realized that was a girl’s thought, Kate’s scheme was getting to me. Hips narrow, but that’s true of some women, I knew. Big bulge in my panties so far, thank God! Could I become the kind of girl Kate wanted? Possibly, with diet and the right makeup and gear. And the right temperament. It could be fun. My face was small-featured, and I had an unassertive chin I’d always regretted. Now I could see it was a dainty chin. Or might become one. Did I want to become Kate’s kind of girl? Did I have a choice?

I wriggled my hips at the apparition in the mirror, and immediately felt silly, even indecent. So I took a full-figured blouse and a wide skirt out of Kate’s closet almost without looking at them, and I put them on. The bottom of the skirt brushed my calves delicately. The blouse was short sleeved and nylon or something, so when I put the satin dressing gown on over it I felt incredibly slippy all over, like wearing liquid. With another glance in the mirror I saw that its bright iridescent blue seemed to light up the room. That’s me, 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 on most of the women photographed in that magazine, even the “Cosmo” girl. I started reading an article on how to keep *him* interested in asking you out again. Some of the advice was excellent — ask him to tell you about himself, and admire anything you can that he’s accomplished — I wished girls would do that for me. I wished girls had done that for me. I realized that I was expected to do that, now. But a pang of panic struck my midriff! With guys? No, I wouldn’t! I was Kate’s!

Some of the advice was practical — “If he seems excited to be with you, help him sustain that level of excitement by caressing him in sensitive areas. You can find out quickly enough if he’s sized to your needs. And being kissed by a smooth, wet, deep mouth is sure to please him!”

Now I shuddered. To kiss a man? Did Kate mean that? Before this was over did she want me satisfying men with hand jobs? Worse, with blow jobs? Real ones on real men, not idle fantasies? Swallowing real cum? “Smutty” was what my Mistress wanted, and she’d see to it that’s what she made me! Even more, would I as a woman need to let men — I tried to imagine it and couldn’t, and felt a little queasy — enter me?

And pump me? And cum in me? Deep inside me? Oh my God!

That was as much as I could take. There had to be a way out of this! This was only a game, a scene we were playing, and I was taking it too seriously! Then I realized I had no safe word. Kate had started me off with the injected hormones and breast implants so the road back would be harder than the path of least resistance, so I’d go with whatever she wanted, like it or not, and learn to like it. I was already part way where she wanted me. Dressed like a courtesan and reading up on how to get laid.

I decided to read the ads instead of all the distressing no-brainers on “How to Get Real Hunky Men to Fuck You Senseless” There were hundreds of ads for make-up! Eye liner and shadow and pencil and mascara in varying shades were individually mysterious, and as I realized when I studied page after page of superbly blended eyes on gorgeous models, how those powders and brushes and pencils could create the mysterious seductiveness of those eyes was beyond any male comprehension. I’d never learn how to use them!

Still, I had to please Kate until I could persuade her somehow to give up her plan for me but marry me anyhow — my only apparent way out. Applied Lipstick looked like a course I could teach myself. I read an article on the new shades, and figured out the uses of lip liners and upper-lip shaping, went back to our bedroom, and applied a dark maroon to my mouth. That would show Kate that I was trying.

Now a glance into the mirror revealed a man in a bright blue satin gown wearing lipstick. Neatly, though. I went down again and read on, wondering why I wasn’t getting increasingly resentful. Was I really a wimp? Look what she had done to me! Did I really want it? I suspected there were more tranquilizers in me than I knew.

A few hours later Kate returned. I was back at the computer when she arrived, originally to get some more advice from Sissify.Com about make-up and how to cope with my new situation, but now looking at different e-mailed reactions to the report I’d turned in. I saw I had to go into the office to talk to some associates.

“Looking for some new games to play, Annie?” she said when she saw me staring at the screen. “Remember you’re my plaything now, and I make up all our games. Any time you forget that, just fold your arms across your chest to remind yourself.”

“No, this is business,” I said a little morosely. “I have to talk to some people downtown. Tomorrow.” I turned around and stared at her. I was now in no mood to play, but realized that for a servant I had spoken out of line. “Ms. Katherine, Ma’am?” There was a faint edge of sarcasm in my voice. “Do I have to kowtow to you all the time from now on? Can’t we just talk?”

She didn’t seem to mind my asking. “Any time there are other people present, certainly we can just talk, Andy honey. Then we’ll talk the way we’ve always talked. Of course you’ll always agree with everything I say, and I look forward to hearing the reasons you’ll give for agreeing with some of my the things I’ll say.

I’ll say some outrageous things sometimes, just to keep you in line. At first you’ll agree with me any way you can, but when you’ve become the woman I want, I’m sure you’ll agree with me sincerely.”

“When nobody’s around it’ll always be different. I’ll expect you to remember your place and my place, and to address me appropriately. This is a process, a journey, and we’re only just beginning. When you finally arrive where I mean to take you, when you’re the kind of girl I want you to be, then maybe we’ll talk as

equals sometimes. I expect that by then you’ll be so pleased with yourself you’ll want to thank me. Are you resenting me a little right now?”

I hesitated. “Yes, Ms. Katherine” was all I said.

She stared at me a moment. “I appreciate your honesty. And also your effort to please me by wearing lipstick. You did a good job there for your first time. The shade’s a bit too maroon for the color of your robe, but you’ll learn about things like that.” She smiled. “That’s the favorite shade of a girl I went with my last year in college. I loved seeing her lips that color while they tugged on my nipples and nibbled on my clit. I’ll love seeing yours there too. If you really like it, we’ll build your outfits around it, honey. It’s still fashionable.”

Kate a Lesbian when she was in college? No, probably experimental, bisexual. And now me too?

Then Kate commented further. “That’s a pretty blouse you picked out, even though I didn’t ask you to. I’m glad you like it. It’s yours now, and I think that’s what you’ll wear when you go to your office tomorrow for your meetings. Just a touch of lace on the collar ends, and it billows beautifully, so no one has to know about your new breasts. They’re a ‘C’ cup now, incidentally. Your hormones will soon make you at least one size large still, really a knockout, though of course we don’t want to overdo anything.”

She waited. “Yes, Ms. Katherine,” I replied. What else was there to say? The humiliations were beginning? She was punishing me for my lack of enthusiasm earlier that I was being turned into her slut girlfriend? What else she was planning to do to me?

“When you go in for your conference, select a nice gold chain for a necklace and wear that too, tucked under that 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’ll feel a little more grateful to me for what I’m doing. Remember, you agreed to all of this, wholeheartedly and repeatedly. And I saw when we were prepping you for your breast implants that you had sealed your agreement with an orgasm all on your own!”

I swallowed hard. “Yes, Ms. Katherine,” I said a lot more sincerely.

She waved her hand to say that gratitude was unnecessary. “Don’t worry about what people think. If you feel like it, flash your tits at anyone who mocks you. They’re real conversation-stoppers already, those breasts, believe me. Some women would kill for a figure like the one you’re going to have. Finish up the project you’re on, and then turn in your two-weeks notice, and tell them you’re taking off those two weeks as accrued sick leave. I need to change you utterly, Annie, and I can’t do that if you’re spending 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’s better. You should know that one more insolent innuendo in your responses would have sent you to work tomorrow in a skirt too. Any questions?”

“Yes, Ma’am. How will we get by without my salary?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that, Andy honey,” she said. “Maybe you’ll work for me in 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 pretty as soon as possible, so you can begin being a girl in public right away without disgracing either of us. Learn by doing! So day after tomorrow we get you a new hair style and makeover.”

The next day’s meetings were arduous, but we got all the understandings ironed out and concluded that I could fine-tune the project completely from home in no time. I thought at first everyone was pointing fingers at my blouse, but I suspect most never even noticed. I suppose they thought I was affecting some

mod style, or a pirate or an 18th century grandee.

Only Becky Davis, our whiz kid from Sales, commented on it. “Very pretty blouse, Andy,” she said. “Looks just like one I once had. I didn’t know you leaned toward my taste in clothes.”

I didn’t know if that was a compliment or not. Becky was thin as a plank and as starved as a model, but she wore her clothes with great style and panache. So I looked pleasant and said nothing.

“It’s so full in front you could grow tits in them and no one would ever know,” she added. “Have you thought of doing that? Have you found yourself a boyfriend who likes big tits on guys?” So her remark *was* intended to be an insult.

I straightened my shoulders and thrust my chest way forward, and my bra poked unmistakable mounds into the front of the blouse. Becky stared! “I already have grown them,” I said. “You should try it some time yourself, and get some guy interested in you for once. Or some girl!”

It was her turn to say nothing.

When I got home Kate was stretched out on the couch in a robe, obviously through with her own work for the day. I changed into the skirt and medium heels she’d laid out for me, and then told her about my interchange with Becky. She was both pleased and amused.

“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.



 Chapter III

My first visit to a beauty salon the next day was a revelation, all those unguents and mirrors and rollers and comb outs and blow driers and paints and powders and pills. I assumed I’d go in my own clothing so as not to attract attention, but the reverse was true. Kate insisted that morning when we left the house that I should look like the woman I was becoming.

“There will be other women there,” she said, “And I don’t propose to look foolish, coming in with an obvious sissy, a man who wants to be prettied up as a girl! I’d do that to humiliate you of course, but you’ve been a sweet dear so far so there’s no need for it. You’re not perfect, Annie — you should brew my coffee darker tomorrow when you bring me my breakfast in bed.”

She waited. “Yes, Ma’am,” I said.

“But I love it that you thought of breakfast in bed for me all by yourself. And the Eggs Benedict were a nice touch. Today you’ll go to your first beauty parlor appointment already looking female, and we’ll see if you can keep up the illusion while you’re there for. For your own good.”

So she had me wear my undies and a dress she picked out that showed my breasts as distinctly large mounds thrust way forward. She showed me it had “darts” sewn in to allow for them, and told me I’ll need to know all about such things from now on.

“Shirt Waists and unfitted tops won’t do for you,” she said. “No understatement. You’re a girl who believes if you’ve got ’em, flaunt ’em!”

And she insisted that I wear make-up, but not brazen, just light liner and mascara, and a pale lipstick. And that I wear my hair in a pony-tail gathered on the crown of my head instead of as usual at the nape.

“That’s enough. If you move with dainty steps and hold your shoulders back, you’ll pass. Your beautician will know of course.”

When the front door was open and I was about to step outside into the sunlight, I suddenly felt a deep pit open in my stomach, and I tried to move my legs — they were in pantyhose and low heels — but they wouldn’t lift off the floor.

“Is something the matter, Annie?” Kate asked just behind me.

“I’m frightened, Ma’am,” was all I could say.

“Big strong mans is frightened to look like an itty bitty girl?” she mocked.

“No, Ms. Katherine,” I said in a small voice. “I’m not a man, I’m a sissy, who is trying to be a girl because that’s what you want me to be, and I don’t want to look ridiculous. I’m afraid, yes.”

There was silence. “Tell me again what you are, Annie. Several times.”

I repeated it. “I’m a sissy, trying to be a girl.”

“Good! Now out the door, sissy girl. You’re dressed appropriately. Be proud of it!”

Still muttering my mantra, I stepped outside. The air felt strange on my legs. A neighbor walking his dog glanced at us and walked on. I felt a little easier and got into the car. Kate drove. The same thing when we arrived. The place was full, and the receptionist didn’t even look up. “Yes,” she said, checking off

my name. “Just have a seat, Annie, and Joanne will be right with you.”

We sat down, and I remembered to smooth my skirt under my bottom as settled onto the chair. “Elbows in,” Kate muttered to me as she handed me “Beauty Culture Magazine.” I glanced at the cover. More articles for women on how to get roundly boinked. “Just theads, dear,” she said when she saw me starting in on one. “I’ll decide when and how and whether you’ll have any sex life at all.”

A neat, short, cheery woman in a purple smock approached. “Annie?”

I nodded.

“I’m Joanne, sissy. Oh, don’t look so mournful! This is the nicest day of your life! Come on, Sis, over here. You can come back for him in about four hours, Kate. We have a lot to do. But you’re right, there’s a lot here to work with.”

Joanne really was nice! I just sat there, and as she snipped and poured and combed and rolled and dried and primped and called over the nail specialist and the ear-piercing girl, she explained everything she was doing, and in between, she told me gossip about other customers. She knew the most intimate things!

“Now this will feel cool, but its a cream you’ll use on your own face every night from now on, Sis. Starting tonight! See how I rub it in with circular movements, just my finger tips? Well, this customer of mine, her name’s Susan but she likes to call herself Suzette, she’s such a petite, dainty, precious little thing, and her husband thinks her ass is made of candy. But really it’s got to be cast iron, because every afternoon while he’s off at the office with his clients earning the money she spends on herself, she’s home in his bed with three, four, five guys from the Truck Depot. Big guys, my dear, and every day! She likes toofers, one in her butt and one in her pussy, you know? Lean back, dear. I don’t know why she’s never been crushed when they hump up against each other with her in between. Well, she told me she was giving up toofers for Lent, but these guys bring each other over to her house, and if a newcomer wants in while the other’s pumping away in her, she never says no. She says afterward she feels like a sewer with all that jism puring out of her. She loves it! And her hubby still thinks she’s practically a virgin, he never suspects anything! See how I brush it, Sis, up from the neck, never down? You’ll do that every morning. Then I hear Mrs. Eldridge is getting divorced, but not from her husband….”

So the time passed.

I emerged that first time a blonde, with darling little curls clustered all over my head and the sweetest tendrils pulled down in front of my ears to soften my face — that was what Kate taught me say right then and there when she returned and smiled her approval. My nails were long and red and I had been taught how to keep them that way. My eyes were deeply shaded from their black liner and heavy mascara through to their blue shadows on my lids and their silvery gray highlights under my brows. It was as complex a procedure as I’d imagined when In was first looking at the cosmetic ads, but Joanne taught me the basics and a few tricks. And Kate loved the effect — I looked wide-eyed and bright-eyed, staring everywhere at the world as if a little perplexed. “Perfect!” she said when she saw that!

During the next few days I learned to do day and night versions of eye-look on my own, until I could fix any defect even while still at the table of any restaurant, with only a slight flourish of a wand. My beard had disappeared during the three days that endowed me with breasts, electrolysized out of existence while I was asleep on tranquilizers and sedatives. So almost immediately my face became what Kate wanted, cute, sprightly, doll-like, the face of a girl who is amusing but not threatening, maybe a girl who’d be a challenge to get into bed but one who might be hard to stop once she got there. She kept training me to look fascinated by anything said to me. And to make perky little movements. And to smile and look a little grateful and a little hungry when I was complimented.

By the third week I took great pride and pleasure in the fact that I could maintain my looks by myself. We shopped whenever Kate could spare the time, and I had lots to wear. She always chose clothes that were slightly brassy and provocative. My new bras and panties were strange lacy whisps of things with oddly shaped openings, mostly from Fredericks of Hollywood, “just this side of whorish, Annie, because that’s how you’ll want to feel.” Each day she had me walk about only in my underthings and high heels for a few hours, so I’d always see myself wearing them in my own mind no matter what I was wearing on top. My blouses and dresses and skirts were a little tight. “They’re for showing off your body to strangers,” she said, so she had me practice sashaying through malls and parking lots in clinging clothes with hips that moved like a pendulum, and I got used to being stared at. Even began to like it!

I practiced my high voice — she wanted a near falsetto from me, though many women don’t talk that way, and lots of tonal range. Each day after I’d moved my bowels she had me use a “Summer’s Eve” douche down there, and then work my finger into my anus coated with KY jelly. “A girl can’t be too dainty down below,” was all she said in explanation. “And besides, doesn’t your finger feel nice moving around in there?” It was a fact, once past the anus my colon felt silky to the touch. The TV game shows and talk shows and soap operas and the women’s magazines began to get to me, until by the second month of my new life when I was back at the salon for retouching I was only one more woman leafing through style books under the dryer and gossiping in my newly trained, slightly squeaky voice, about nails and hemlines and unfaithful wives and cute guys on TV.

It was clear from the start, Kate wanted me to feel kept, dependent. Being attractive the way she wanted was the reason for my existence, and I did work at it, very hard. I really tried! A few times when I forgot some simple feminine thing — I sat knees apart when wearing a dress, or I sat knees together when I was wearing jeans — she would criticize me and punish me by denying me access to her sweet, dear pussy. Around the fourth week I started to cry when she used a rough tone with me — I couldn’t help it, I’d forgotten that she wanted me to be forgetful, and silly, and sprightly, not a real ditz but the kind of girl even a shy guy could admire close up and feel manly with. Kate credited it to my hormones and forgave me when it happened, and I was so grateful that I crawled between her legs and licked and sucked and kissed her sweet cunny all night long. And she let me, too!

One evening during the fifth week we were both putting night cream on our faces when she looked over at me and said, “Annie honey, you have made marvelous progress, by leaps and bounds. I’m sure that in your heart you really wanted this.”

“Yes, Ms. Kate,” I said. “I’m sure now too!”

“I think it’s time you enjoyed some of the distinctive pleasures of being a woman,” she said.

An odd statement, considering that I was that moment wearing my softest, laciest nightie, pink and black, and had put up my hair, and was removing the makeup I’d worn all day. I said nothing.

“So tomorrow you won’t prepare dinner for when I get home. We’ll double date and go out for dinner.”

I felt a shocked and distressed, both at once! Kate with another man? Me with…a man?

“But I’ll go easy with you this first time. With Claire and Wilmer. We’ll meet them at the Pavilion for dinner, and then come back here afterward. Your red mini with all the flounces will be just right. If you can walk and move through the dining areas with just a touch of dignity, they may not take you for a provocative tart and throw you out at first glance.” She smiled at me.

I was nervous all the next day, and kept adjusting my make-up, but at the actual dinner I was a great success. Claire looked at me with a sardonic expression, delighted and slightly mocking!

“Andy darling, you never were much of a man, but how you’ve changed!” she said, as we clasped both our hands and leaned forward to touch cheeks to each other, as women do who don’t want to mess their faces. “You’ve taken to all this so well! Don’t tell me you haven’t wanted it all your life! I never understood what Kate saw in you, when you were still playing at masculinity. Probably that you were really a closet fag!”

Kate had reminded me when we were walking from the parking lot to meet them that Claire was often insulting, but Annie was brassy, lively, and incapable of feeling offended by insults.

“Why thank you, that’s a very sweet compliment,” I gushed. “Oh, Claire, I haven’t had a chance yet to thank you for these wonderful titties you gave me that first weekend! They’re really all anyone needs to be happy, whether a man or a woman! And aren’t you lovely tonight! Is that the dress you were wearing last time we saw each other? It looks even better tonight! And Wilmer, how nice to see you again! I’ve really wanted to get to know you better!”

And I smiled at him, a restrained but unmistakable come-on Kate had made me practice repeatedly, even though I was thinking meanwhile that there was nothing much in him to get to know. Wilmer smiled back, nervously restrained with Claire close by, but I sensed he relaxed a little when he concentrated his attention on me.

Encouraged, I took his arm, thereby claiming the only male in the company for myself, and we followed the Maitre’ d to our table. I saw at once that my red mini really was a sensation for this restaurant, and decided to walk on Wilmer’s arm as if everyone in the place was applauding. Every other woman including Claire and Kate was wearing black or subdued shades, with hemlines below the knee while mine barely covered my buttocks, and my flounces exaggerated every movement of my breasts and hips. Far from embarrassed that I looked so flamboyantly feminine, I felt pleased. Attracting Claire’s husband was a kind of petty revenge against Claire, who had been part of the conspiracy to make me into what I was. Of course I didn’t dare feel that way toward Kate. Or want to.

I looked back, and was surprised to see that the two women walking together behind us were watching us with wide grins on their face, Kate delightedly telling Claire something, Claire giggling in response. As Wilmer led me to our table and held out a chair for me, I realized with a shock that I’d been set up! They’d wanted me to resent Claire, and to try to steal Claire’s husband from her! They’d wanted me to set up a liaison with a real man! And I’d done it! Just how far did they want me to go? I was suddenly frightened. But I just clutched Wilmer’s arm tighter, and then as I sat down I trailed my fingers down his arm. I’d started it, so I’d finish it! As he sat down too I looked into his face the way the magazines had advised me, eyes wide with interest, and asked him what he liked most about his work, and what he’d done he was most proud of. And marveled with prettily pursed lips as he told me about some obscure accounting practice he’d reformed.

Kate had to cue me a few times to remember my training, be very delicate with my hands when holding my silverware and wineglass, primp my curls up in back with my palms now and then, be very bold while looking around the room, and look the waiter up and down with hooded eyes when he bent over me to take my order, as if I were sizing up a delicious slab of beef. Now and then, shoulders back and shake my breasts back and forth — I did that once in Wilmer’s face, and he almost went catatonic!

We went back to our house in separate cars, and Kate established her authority over me again as soon as we were alone. “You enjoyed being a woman tonight, didn’t you, Annie?” she commented.

“Oddly, I did, Kate” I answered affably. “It felt almost normal, and what was new, like teasing poor Wilmer, was actually fun.”

Her face darkened. “‘Kate’? You call your Mistress ‘Kate’?”

I immediately started apologizing. She cut me off angrily.

“You know what you are going to do tonight when we get home, Annie?”

“No, Mistress Kate.” I was suddenly fearful again.

“You are going to seduce ‘poor Wilmer.’ You are going to go all the way with him! You remember those cock sucking lessons you were studying when I caught you at it? Final exam time! You’re going down on him, Annie, and by tomorrow morning you’d better know what he’s like in your asshole too!” She sounded furious!

I shrank down in my seat, terrified. She glanced over at me, and suddenly broke out into a sweet smile. “Don’t look so scared, honey! That’s what all girls do when they get guys interested in them. Because it’s fun all around. You’ll see. You knew it was coming, didn’t you? Well, sweetheart, with you, it’s coming sooner than either of us had thought. Being a woman felt normal to you? We’ll see! Maybe those hormones are acting on you more powerfully than we’d anticipated. Go with them! The moment we get into the house, start working on it!”

We pulled into the driveway, and she pulled the parking brake forcefully, then looked at me with a level gaze. “Annie, it’s this way. Tonight you will seduce Wilmer and get him to sleep with you, and tomorrow when he wakes up he’ll have a smile onhis face. Then maybe I’ll feel I want to marry you before too much longer. Or if you fail at this simple feminine task, then tomorrow you’ll begin parading yourself down by the railroad station, learning how professionals do it until you’re as good at it as any of the others. That’s if you want to have anything more to do with me.”

I said very seriously to her, “I’ll do whatever you say, Mistress Kate. With all my heart! Anything!”

She sounded pacified, and patted me on the leg. It felt nice on my nylons. “Enjoy it, sweetheart. This is what it’s all about.”

So I just thrust away from me all thoughts of humiliation or macho pride. Here was a man and I was a cute woman who wanted into his pants, and no other feelings applied! When Wilmer and Claire arrived and I’d gotten us all n ightcaps I settled down next to Wilmer on the couch and snuggled into to him. I didn’t dare look at Claire or at Kate, and it didn’t seem odd until later on that they both left us alone, watching at first without saying a word. I remembered some things from my magazines, and while I asked Wilmer to tell me more about his wonderful bookkeeping innovations, I trailed my fingernails up and down his thigh. Now and then, as if absent-mindedly, I caressed his chest in the vicinity of his nipples. Once I reached across him to pat him on his far cheek to console him when he sadly told me his supervisor didn’t fully

appreciate him, and when I had turned his face toward mine with the palm of my hand, I leaned forward and opened my lips slightly, and closed my eyes, and waited.

And then opened them again. He was looking at me bewildered. “Claire told me that tonight I should be on my best behavior,” he said. “I don’t know what that means.”

“I do,” I said in my huskiest woman’s voice. And I moved my hand from his cheek to the back of his head and pulled his face toward mine. He kissed me. I could feel his beard stubble against my smooth lips and cheeks, and his tongue went into my mouth and I began to lick it with mine, and I gently put one of his hands on my breast, and he began to caress the nipple as it rose up, through my dress and bra. Again I began to melt from that exquisite feeling in on the tip of my breast, and a yearning began to build and spread through my groin. I moaned and twisted to press my whole body against his. We embraced passionately, and we writhed against each other, while I tried to swallow his tongue. Then he took one

of my hands and put it on his crotch. There was an enormous bulge there! Huge! It crossed my mind I was right, why Claire kept him on, and I unzipped him while my mouth still clung to his, and then pulled out an enormous weight of meat! My eyes still shut, I began to stroke it as if it were a large puppy. And I heard Claire’s voice behind me,

“You were right, Kate. They really are going at it. What in the world did you tell him?”

“The same thing you told Wilmer, that he’d better, however he really felt about sex with other men, or else! But I must say, I didn’t expect there’d be this much heat between the two of them. I really think that right now Andy’s convinced he’s a real girl!”

“Just look at Wilmer’s face. I Know Wilmer’s convinced of it! You’ve done wonders with Andy, Kate. And he looks so cute! That darling dress! I’d love to see the rest of his outfits. Shall we get to bed now? Let’s go upstairs now, sweetheart! The way they’re behaving is making me feel hot to put my hands on you! And other things!”

“Just a moment, love,” Kate answered. “I want to see something else first!”

By this time I realized I had better get down on Wilmer right away, or he’d blow his wad and tomorrow night I’d be hustling tricks downtown on a technicality. So I said, in my most seductive voice, “Just a moment, sweetheart. Just relax!” And I disengaged from him with a sigh and another erotic squeal, and slipped down on the couch so I could take his prick into my mouth, and looked for the first time at Wilmer’s equipment.

My first thought was, if that’s a man, I’ve got no business imagining I’m one too. The thing looked longer than a tennis racket handle, nearly! There was no way all that could fit into my mouth! A huge purple helmet with a single eye stared at me, my fist barely encircling the shank just below it, my deep red fingernails pressing their tips lightly onto the underside. There was a large drop of pearly white liquid sitting on top, almost obscuring the piss hole opening. I leaned over and lapped it up. It tasted sweet, salty, creamy. I kissed the eye, then tongued it, then settled Wilmer’s whole cock head into my mouth and began to move down on him.

“That’s what I wanted to see,” I heard Kate say. “That was what I asked Andy way back when I first caught him dreaming about this moment at that Sissify web site, would he want to lick the precum first, or just head straight for the main action. Now we both know. He’s a natural cumsucker, even before he’s a cocksucker. He’ll be very useful to us!”

“Yes,” I heard Claire say. “With practice he may get to be as good at sucking cock as you are. And at drinking cum out of you, the way we make Wilmer do it now as a punishment. This is a much better arrangement. I’m really so glad you thought of it, sweetheart. Between the four of us, look at the possibilities! Now we have three usable assholes not counting Wilmer’s, assuming that Wilmer gets into Annie’s tonight and opens it up.”

“He will,” Kate said. “Annie will see to it. I’ve seen to that! And I really do think that when it happens he really will love it. He really is a slut! Just look at him!”

Claire continued her inventory as I began slipping my dark red lips up and down Wilmer’s shank, sucking gently, licking the underside, and hearing him groan deep in the back of his throat. “And between us,” she said, “we have three functioning cocks until those heavy doses of hormones reach Annie’s, then two. And one real vagina for servicing with Wilmer’s cock or mine, whichever you want, the way we’ve been doing it since we first met. We have one submissive straight male, Wilmer, with a dominant transsexual wife, me, now getting deep into an affair with a brand new transsexual woman, your submissive boyfriend. So Wilmer’s happy too, I should say!”

Wilmer began thrusting up at me, and I tried not to choke on his meat. I gripped with both hands the part of his prick below where my lips could reach, and gently jerked him off as my lips continued to pulse and rise and fall on the upper part. I heard Kate’s voice,

“And now I’ve got two good looking women to sleep with whenever I want, one of them proper and well bred, you, and the other getting on to be a wonderfully flirtatious hussy, Annie. I have your cock to fuck, Claire, or Wilmer’s when I want a real man. And that cock of Wilmer’s is a prize! Just look at it! Annie can barely get the top half of it into his mouth! And I can have Annie’s cock too, if I want it, for the time being. But I think I’ll leave it alone — it would interfere with his feminizing if he got used to using it again. Anyhow, I’m sure he’ll want it to be a vagina by the end of the year.”

Wilmer put both hands on my head gently, and held me over his giant prick, and began to move me up and down in his own preferred rhythm. I pulsed my lips as rapidly as I could as they slid along his shank, and meanwhile continued to jerk him off.

“Kate, do you have any idea how Annie’s desires will settle down when you’ve finished with him, when he’s finally a her? Certainly he can be our house maid, what with the three of us working and earning good money. And you say he’s a data base expert too? That’ll be useful at the clinic. You should plan to marry him soon I think, while he’s still a man, while it’s still legal. He’s slipping fast. Just look! Now he’s doing Wilmer’s cock like a starved animal!” There was a long silence, and then I heard Claire add in a subdued, almost fainting voice, “Oh, Kate, that was so wonderful! Do it again to me? Or can Annie do it to me now?”

I could feel Wilmer begin to tense, and his huge cock swelled until the veins up and down it stood out like cords. I began to suck deep, with all the pull my cheeks could muster!

Kate again. “No, let’s leave him alone with his very first boyfriend. Just look, isn’t that sweet? And I did promise him his first assfuck too with that glorious thing of Wilmer’s. And you know Wilmer’s tongue is magic on anyone’s tits, and Annie loves that sensation — she plays with her nipples all the time. I’m sure she’ll be in love with Wilmer by morning. Let’s just go to bed now, baby! I want to feel you in me, Claire, pushing deep, deep into me! That wonderful cock of yours! I’m so glad it’s still functioning!” Kate’s voice that sounded nearly hoarse.

I heard their footsteps on the stairs, with shufflings and silences, when I suppose they were gripping and kissing each other. Then the door to our bedroom upstairs closed.

At that moment I felt Wilmer’s pelvis rise up out of his seat and his prick thrust deep into my throat and begin to pulse. Cream filled my mouth, and I swallowed it as fast as I could! It was so delicious! I’d never dreamed a man’s cum would taste so good, and feel so satiny on my tongue and lips! It was so glorious at that moment, being a woman!

When he’d finished pumping and I’d swallowed it all, and licked him lovingly, I smiled up at him, then sat up to kiss him on the cheek. I remembered from what Claire said that he wasn’t crazy about the taste of cum, not the taste of her cum in Kate’s cunt, anyhow. His cum? I put it out of my mind. “Come on, lover,” I said. “There’s lot’s more! Let’s get to bed.” He was still breathing hard, and he looked at me. Then he smiled, shyly, and the two of us got up and headed for the guest room.

The next morning when I woke up, there were Kate and Claire wearing negligees, hair pinned up and arms around each other, standing in the doorway looking down at us with smiles on their faces. I was curled up on Wilmer’s hairy chest, and he had one long leg draped over me, and I still had an arm encircling his neck, where I’d hugged him to sleep. My rear end felt terribly sore, well-used, but somehow wonderful! My breasts too! I saw that Wilmer was smiling too as he snored gently. And I know I was.

“Honey,” said Kate. “You two look so precious together! We’ve brought you your negligee — I know you’ll want to look pretty when Wilmer wakes up. But meanwhile, we need to talk. There are some things you may not know. I want to tell you what they are, and put a proposal to you. I still own you, but this involves more than just your relationship with me. So I have to get your free consent. If you can agree to what I’m about to say, I’ll accept you as my husband and my steady girlfriend, and we’ll get married as soon as we can decide on our bridal gowns and make the other arrangements. And find a larger house, because there will be four of us living in it. I’d better explain.”

And she did.

So, dear Sissify Staff, there’s where I am now. I love my new life! Somehow during my month or two of living as Ms. Katherine’s submissive sissy, I really did turn a corner and became a real woman. A real transsexual woman. I live now with Claire, a shemale transsexual woman who is also my fiancee’s girlfriend, or sometimes her boyfriend, and is also my doctor. And I’m beginning to get to know her intimately myself. Then there’s my fiancee Kate who is my beloved Mistress and owns me, a born woman. And there’s sweet, darling Wilmer, an ordinary man with exceptional gifts – as I understand it, I’ll have to share Wilmer with his wife and my wife, but that’s OK, there’s lots of him to share. So my life is full, and my other openings are too, often. I feel so pretty, being wanted by so many people, and so satisfied too!

And I owe it all to you. I just wanted you to know that I’m grateful.

Yours sincerely,


Another wonderful success story.

Are you next?