5 Sissy Transformation Stories to Inspire Your Journey

COCKSUCKER: CROSSDRESSING

Summary: Straight man is forced to cross dress and suck cock.

You do not need to read the first parts to enjoy this story about a straight man crossdressing in San Francisco. In case you are curious about how he ended up in this situation here is a brief summary of the first two parts of the "Cocksucker" series:

Chris, a married straight man, is stuck at the airport when his flight is delayed. While waiting at the bar he is slyly seduced by a younger man. After submitting to him in a restroom stall, he must complete seven humiliating tasks to get his wedding ring back.

Task one was to walk around with cum on his face until he got to his hotel room hundreds of miles away, and to tell the woman at the check in why he was late for his flight (I was sucking cock in the bathroom).

Task two was to service a very gay hotel clerk and begin his training as a cocksucker. He also gets his first blow job from a man. Disobeying an order from his Master also leads to a punishment that has him sucking an older man's cock.

Without further ado, the continuing adventures of a straight married man who is quickly discovering that he isn't as straight as he thought he was.

NOTE: Thanks to Goamz86, Robert and MAB7991 for editing this story.

COCKSUCKER: Crossdressing

I woke up in a sweat from the most surreal dream I had ever experienced. I have had many sex dreams in my life but they usually consisted of hot celebrities, Dallas Cowgirl cheerleaders or Hooters waitresses, but this one had me sucking a stranger's cock.

As I became more alert, my eyes went wide as I realized the crazy dream was no dream at all. I had actually done it...I had sucked three strangers' cocks, had given my wedding ring to a stranger, and had committed to doing seven tasks of humiliating obedience to get it back. I had already gotten through two, but still had five more to go.

Looking at the clock, I saw that the alarm was going to go off in three more minutes, so I shut it off and jumped in the shower as I recalled yesterday and all the sin I had committed. I was mortified by my weakness, stunned by my eagerness and alarmed by the tumbling dominoes of consequences that had transpired because of one day of bad decisions. I decided yesterday was an anomaly and I was going to pretend it didn't happen.

I got dressed, had an overpriced breakfast at the hotel restaurant and was heading to the first keynote address, thankful I had gotten a room at the conference hotel, when my phone buzzed.

I checked it:

cocksucker,

Ready for task three?

A chill went up my spine at the simple sentence. Using all the will I had, the need to respond shockingly strong, I put my phone back in my pocket without answering and headed to the auditorium for our first keynote speaker.

Just as I reached the auditorium, I saw Kevin, my boss, who was chatting with someone whose back was to me.

Kevin waved me over and I went to join the conversation. Just as I arrived, the gentleman conversing with him turned and my whole body faded of colour. The man Kevin was talking to was the man I had given head to last night in his hotel room.

He recognized me immediately but didn't say anything as Kevin introduced us, shocking me to my core.

"Chris, this is my dad, James. He drove up from San Diego to see me," Kevin revealed.

I stammered, raising my hand to shake his, all the while thinking 'I sucked your dad's cock last night', "H-h-hi Mr. Carson, nice to meet you. Kevin has told me a lot about you," which was true. His dad had overcome cancer two years ago, just in time to watch his wife die of cancer herself. I imagined I was the first one to touch his cock since his wife.

James squeezed my hand firmly, "It is a pleasure to meet you," stressing the word 'pleasure'.

"How long are you in town?" I asked, praying it was just for today.

"All week," James said, "hanging with Kevin a bit, doing a little sightseeing, and maybe trying new things," he finished while looking directly into my eyes.

Kevin added, "Yes, tell him Chris. To live it up, be reckless."

"I was rather reckless last night," James said.

"Sure you were," Kevin said. "What did you do after we left the bar? Stay up past eleven?"

"I was up until around then," he shrugged, the innuendo aimed at me. It was around eleven when I'd left his room after taking a load of his cum in my mouth.

Kevin said, "Oh shit, I need to meet Amy. Chris, please entertain my dad for a few minutes."

My face flushed at how I had already entertained his dad. "Will do," I nodded, even as Kevin walked away.

James said, "You're a very good entertainer."

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Carson," I said, mortified that the one stranger I sucked in this whole hotel was my boss's father.

"Sorry?" He asked. "I had forgotten what it was like to get head."

"I don't usually do that," I said, which was true.

"Well, I am hoping you do it again," he said.

"But your son is my boss," I pointed out.

"He said to entertain me. You would just be doing as you were instructed," he said.

"I don't think he meant for me to give you head," I countered.

"Semantics," he shrugged. "Actually, I think you should entertain me now."

"What? No," I said, even as my stupid mouth began to water, constantly betraying me.

"As I recall, you declared yourself a cocksucker and a real cocksucker doesn't say no," he said. "There is a bathroom on the third floor. Meet me there in five minutes," he ordered, before adding, "cocksucker."

My hunger to submit and obey apparently much deeper going far beyond just Gary, I nodded, "Yes, sir."

"Good," he said and left towards the elevators.

I took the stairs, wondering how I kept getting myself into a deeper more complex mess.

Reaching the third floor, I saw James enter the bathroom, and I followed suit. The bathroom was empty except for the two of us.

"Hurry up, cocksucker," James said. "We can't miss the opening speech."

"Yes, sir," I obeyed, hurrying into the last stall. James already had his cock out and I, after locking the door, dropped to my knees and took it in my mouth.

"Oh yeah, cocksucker, I bet Kevin would love to have his own personal cocksucker at work when he needed to relieve some stress and shoot a load," James said, as I bobbed back and forth on his cock. The thought petrified me, my job now officially at risk. Yet, the thought of being under Kevin's desk, sucking his cock, while he was on the phone or in a meeting popped into my head and turned me on even more.

"I bet you would love to be at the podium during the keynote speech sucking the speaker's cock while he spoke to a whole room of suits, wouldn't you?" He asked.

The idea was silly, but instantly I imagined doing exactly that. The opening speaker, William Hedge, was a black man and I instantly wondered if all the stereotypes were true.

"Here comes my cum," he said, this time grabbing my head with his hands and fucking my face. The feeling of his balls hitting my chin as he face-fucked me only enhanced my submission. My cock was dying for release from the rough treatment and naughty talk as he shot a load of his seed down my throat.

Pulling out, he patted my head and said, "Thanks, cocksucker."

For some reason wanting to shock him, I said, "Thanks for fucking my face and coming down my throat."

"Ever taken it in the ass, cocksucker?" He asked, putting his cock away.

"No sir," I answered quickly.

"Too bad. I think you would make a very cute faggot," he said, before walking out and leaving me still on my knees.

The word 'faggot' was a slap in the face for some reason. Cocksucker turned me on, but faggot made me feel gay. I shook my head at the absurdity of my own thoughts as I got up and made my way back to the auditorium.

I had felt my phone vibrate a few times while on my knees, so I checked my messages. They were all from Gary.

cocksucker

I don't like waiting.

cocksucker

I think you like being punished

cocksucker

I think maybe I should call your wife...her name is Laura isn't it?

cocksucker

Or maybe better yet your son. I believe he goes to my college. Is he a cocksucker too?

The threats making my stomach queasy, I quickly texted back:

MASTER G

Sorry sir, my mouth was full...of cock. The stranger I sucked yesterday is my boss's dad. Anyways, suffice to say, he just took advantage of this newfound knowledge to blow his load in my mouth in a bathroom. I will always obey and answer!!!

I kept walking to the auditorium and took my seat just as the day got started.

Of course, that is when the next text came:

cocksucker,

Task 3: Go to a lingerie store and buy yourself the following....

The text ended there. I was nervous at what he was expecting but also curious. I vaguely listened to all the generic introductions as I kept waiting for the rest of the expectations.

I was about to text that I didn't get the rest of his text when I got another one. It was from my wife, and I felt a huge rush of disappointment.

Love you.

It was sweet and usually I would have smiled, but waiting for the rest of my task from Gary was all I wanted.

I quickly texted back:

Keynote speaker talking...love u 2

I waited ten more minutes, anxiety building at the waiting for the unknown...before another text finally came:

6 pairs of pink panties. At least one should be a thong and another should have girly flowers on them.

I couldn't believe that was what was expected. Did he expect me to wear them?

I tried to focus on the keynote speaker, who was apparently funny based on all the laughter around me, yet I couldn't concentrate on his voice. Then another text came:

Three pairs of pantyhose in different colors. They must be real silk.

Then another text:

A matching bra.

Then another text:

You will try these on and ask a worker there how you look in them. You will tell them your Master wants you to look like a girl.

My cock was rock hard, my face pale and my mind spinning. There was no way I could do this.

Then another text:

You should also buy a pair of thigh high stockings for easy access to that man cunt of yours.

'Man cunt'? Did he plan to fuck me eventually? I couldn't fathom his massive cock fitting into me. The idea, ludicrous and disgusting less than twenty-four hours ago, suddenly seemed possible and slightly erotic.

Then another text:

You will wear the bra, panties and pantyhose under your clothing the rest of the conference. You will sleep in them as well. You are no longer a man. You are a cocksucker...a girl...a slut...a bitch...a whore...so dress like one.

I gave up trying to listen to the keynote as I tried to come to grips with not only the task ordered, but the obvious future expectations for me and my raging hard-on as I read the derogatory terms. I also shivered at the thought that this was only task 3.

Another text came a few minutes later:

Of course, I expect a picture sent to me of you dressed as my girl.

The keynote eventually ended and I figured that until I finished this task I would not be able to focus. I was having supper with Kevin, as planned before the trip, and whoever else he invited (I prayed his father wasn't one of them), so I couldn't complete the task after the sessions for the day were over. So I skipped my next session and Googled lingerie stores on my phone. There was actually one just a few blocks from where I was and I decided to go for a walk and enjoy the fresh air.

As I was walking and enjoying the scenery of downtown San Francisco, I got another text. I eagerly pulled it out only to see it was my wife again. I loved my wife, but the strange sense of disappointment I felt when it wasn't Gary was strange.

I clicked on the message:

Hope you are not just sitting around listening to boring presentations. Be a risk-taker baby. Do something that isn't you...skip a session and do something fun.

I smiled at how strangely parallel her texts and words were to what was actually currently happening.

I texted back:

Oh, I am really living it up here.

Reaching the lingerie store, I took a deep breath and walked in. The store was relatively empty, with a couple women giggling while looking at sex toys. I went straight to the clothing section and was instantly overwhelmed with the massive selection of panties to choose from.

I was there less than a minute when a very pretty redhead, who couldn't be more than twenty, asked, "May I help you, sir?"

"Um, I need to buy six pairs of pink panties. At least one needs to be a thong and at least one must have girly flowers on them," I answered, the words sounding as absurd out loud as they did when I first read them.

"Oh, okay," she said. "That is a very specific order."

Deciding to just get the awkward part out of the way, I said, thankful I was in San Francisco, "It is what my Master instructed I get."

"Oh, they are for you then?" She asked, not acting surprised. Again, thank God I was in San Francisco.

"Yes, ma'am," I nodded, even acting subservient to a saleswomen.

She went to a table and grabbed a few pair. Handing them to me, she said, "These are our newest, silkiest panties."

"Thanks," I said, taking the variety of pink shades of panties.

"And a thong," she said, moving to another table. "Hmmm, most thongs are not made for men but I think this will work."

She handed me a fluorescent pink pair. My facial expression of the brightness must have been obvious as she apologized, "Sorry, the rest of our thongs wouldn't keep your penis in place."

"No problem, it's just very bright," I said.

"I'm sure he will love you in it," she said, talking to me like this was normal, which I suppose in San Francisco it was.

"Um, I also need a matching bra, three pairs of silk pantyhose and a pair of thigh highs," I added, figuring it would speed up the process.

"Mmmmmmm," she paused, looking me up and down. She moved to the bras and brought out a couple including one that was more of a girdle. She asked, "This may sound insulting, but is the bra to wear to humiliate you or to make you look like a girl?"

It was an embarrassing question, especially when asked by such a pretty young woman. It also was awkward because I really didn't know the answer. "I'm not sure. He did say he wanted me to look pretty and he calls me his girl."

"Well, I would suggest this pretty lace number if he just wants to make you look girlish, while I would go with this girdle that gives you breasts if he wants to transform you into a girl," she said.

"Transform me into a girl?" I repeated as a question.

"Well, he may want you to dress up as a real woman with breasts," she said, before adding, "and this will give you some very nice, voluptuous looking breasts if you had breasts forms."

"Oh my," I said, this getting crazier by the second.

"You can try it on if you wish," she offered.

"Actually, I am supposed to try on a bra, panties and pantyhose," I said.

"Oh," she said. "Well, the panties and pantyhose you would have to buy, of course, but the bra and girdle with breast forms you can try on first."

"Of course," I said.

"Go to changing room four and I will bring you some pantyhose," she instructed.

"Thank you," I said, taking my panties and other garments with me.

In the changing room, I got completely naked and looked at the tiny panties. I grabbed a pair of pink panties with little coloured flowers on them and slid them up my legs. My cock, semi-hard, was outlined completely by the tight panties. I stared at the bra and the girdle and decided to put the pink lace bra on first, I had it on my arms when the saleswoman knocked on the door.

"I'm sliding three pairs of pantyhose under the door. I would suggest the mocha coloured ones if you are wearing pink," she suggested.

"Thanks," I replied, taking the packages of pantyhose. I put them on the chair and continued to try to put on the bra. It was awkward, frustrating and, I eventually decided, impossible as although I could put it on where it should be, I couldn't come close to clasping the buckle on the back.

Leaving it half way on, I opened the package with the mocha pantyhose and sat down. This too ended up being an adventure. Eventually, after just trying to pull them on like socks, I recalled Laura bunching them up and slowly rolling them up her legs. I tried that, and eventually got them on. Once on, I couldn't resist rubbing my legs, in awe at how soft and sexy they felt, my own cock growing, struggling to get breathing room in its confined place in both panties and pantyhose.

Then there was another knock on the door. "Are you having any problems with the bra, sir?"

I laughed softly at the ridiculous contradiction of bra and sir before responding, "I can't get the bra done up."

"Open up," she said.

"Okay, I'm only in panties and pantyhose," I warned.

"Just open up," she repeated with a heavy sigh.

I opened the door, and she quickly slipped in and clasped my bra on. "I was hoping to see the girdle," she said, holding something that could best be described as breast implants.

"I'll try that on next," I replied, wanting to please her, too.

"Good, I think you will look hot with some tits. Now turn around," she said, so my back was to her.

I did, my cheeks again going red with embarrassment.

"Hmmmmm, super cute," she said. "I think, your Master will be very pleased."

"Can you take a picture of me in this for him?" I asked.

"Sure," she said, still not surprised by the surreal situation.

I pulled out my phone from my dress pants; I realized by bending down I gave her a long look at my pantyhose-clad ass. I turned around and handed it to her.

"Smile," she said, taking my phone.

I did, as she snapped a couple of pictures. "Actually, if you want a full body picture, we will have to move to the hallway."

"Um...okay," I said, not wanting anyone else to see me dressed like this or see the undeniable bulge in my panties.

"Don't worry," she said, "this is San Francisco, this isn't even a two on the shock scale here."

"Okay," I agreed, following her out of the dressing room.

"Okay," she said, "now pose like you would if he were here to see you."

Without thought, I dropped to my knees.

"Oh my," she laughed. "I was thinking just a sexy pose, but this is even hotter." She snapped a couple pictures before instructing, "Now one more with you standing up, hands on your hips and posing as if you want him to see all of you."

I did as she told me to, arms on my hips, legs spread a few feet apart and with a smile on my face as if I were a model.

"Sooooo hot," she purred, as she snapped a couple more pictures. Once done, she said, "now go and try on the girdle, and I will get you a dress and heels to go with it."

"Yes, ma'am," I nodded, both turned-on and mortified, a relatively constant contradictory sensation the past twenty-four hours.

I returned to my stall and realized I couldn't get my bra off. I sighed as I looked at the girdle. It was huge. I also realized I couldn't do it myself, so I waited for the salesgirl to return.

A couple of minutes later, she returned and said, "I am betting you couldn't get the bra off by yourself."

"No, ma'am," I admitted.

"Open up," she instructed.

I again did as she instructed and she quickly unclasped the bra. "Hand me the girdle."

She assisted me in putting it on. Once on, she grabbed the jelly looking breasts and said, "These are extra large breast forms and will give you very voluptuous, show stopping, tits."

"Okay," I said, as I was dressed up like a slutty Barbie doll.

A HUSBAND CHANGES

It was my wife Anne who helped me get started. And she was only my girlfriend at the time. I had spent the night with her and in the morning had no clean underwear. She offered me hers. Said it would do great things for my masculinity to wear her silky panties all day.

Actually it did great things for my libido. I was constantly horny, couldn't concentrate on my work and spent a lot of time in the bathroom. When I called her office and told her my problem, she replied that we would have to meet directly after work. She was at my studio almost before I was ready.

"Come on, sweetheart," she said, "We're going shopping." She practically dragged me out of the building. I had no idea where we were going and she wouldn't tell me. We ended up at one of San Francisco's best-known lingerie shops. She picked out several pairs of panties, a couple of pairs of pantyhose and a lovely white lace teddy. I had a vague suspicion that she might have had me in mind when making these purchases, but I really wasn't sure until we got back to the car.

Handing me the bag, she said, "Here sweetheart, these are for you." I hesitated a bit before I took the bag from her. "That's if you want them. You do want them, don't you?" I assured her I did.

We drove straight to her apartment and while she made dinner, I went and tried on my new things. I had never put on a pair of pantyhose before and had a bit of a problem with them,

but eventually managed, emerging a few minutes later resplendent in just my new panties and pantyhose. Anne had sensibly bought crotchless hose which allowed the silk of the panties to be against my skin. I walked into the kitchen and she stopped what she was doing to look at me. "You look wonderful darling," she said, coming up to me, "And you look just like a girl except for this!"

She put the flat of her hand on the enormous bulge in the front of my panties. Rubbing her hand up and down my throbbing member she asked, "How do they feel? Do you like the feel of silk against this big thing?" I felt like Gumming right then, but held back as I didn't want to ruin my new silk panties.

"I feel great," I replied, "and very horny. I love the soft feel of the silk against my skin."

"Yes," she replied, "Its one of the big advantages of being a girl, but of course, there are many others. I'll show you, if you like."

"Yes, please!" I replied.

"There's something important missing though," she went on, "so after we've eaten, let's go down to the mall." We sat down to eat, me wearing just my panties and pantyhose, Anne still in her office clothes. When we had finished, she suggested that I leave them on, putting my pants and shirt on over my new undergarments. I left my socks off, sliding just my stockinged feet into my shoes. I was amazed at how easily my feet slid into my shoes and how good it felt.

We went off to the mall and straight into a shoe shop. "The picture isn't complete without shoes," Anne said, "And none of mine would fit you. If anyone asks, say you are going to a costume party." She really had this all worked out. "That is if you are embarrassed by all this." Then she asked, "Are you embarrassed? Are you getting cold feet?" We both laughed at her joke.

Anne picked out a couple of pairs of shoes and I tried them on. It was difficult to walk in the black high-heeled pumps she chose, but she told me I would get used to it. The open toed white shoes had less of a heel and I found them a little easier. No-one came near us while we were trying the shoes on, so I didn't have to answer any difficult questions. We took the shoes to the cashier, paid and went straight home.

"Get undressed." Anne ordered.

"Sweetheart," I replied, "I know you are the expert, but do you have to be quite so bossy? All evening you have been telling me what to do and I'm perfectly capable of making up my own mind."

"I'm sorry," she said, "I just thought that you needed a little more encouragement and I wanted to show you that I am enjoying what you are doing." Anne held me close. "And it is really turning me on. I want to get on with it."

I did as she said and followed her into the bathroom. "I'm going to shave your legs for you to show you how to do it. We can't have all those long hairs poking through your hose, can we? From here on though, you'll have to do it for yourself."

Expertly she shaved my legs and rubbed in some cream. I stood up to admire myself in the full-length mirror on the door and Anne said, "You have great legs for a girl." I kissed her.

In the bedroom I pulled on the pantyhose again. It was a lot easier this time without all that hair getting in the way. I pulled on the panties and slipped into my new high-heeled pumps. Stopping only to admire myself in the mirror, I sallied forth into the den where Anne was waiting. I started, for she was standing there wearing exactly what I was wearing! She had merely taken off her dress and bra. I hadn't realized that the shoes she had picked out were exactly the same as the pair she was wearing!

"Twins!" she exclaimed, hugging me tight and mashing her breasts against my chest.

"Not quite," I replied, "but close."

"You're right," she said, reaching up to play with my nipples. "Your hair is too short and these are tiny. We'll have to see what we can do about both those things. How does my bisexual man feel now that he's becoming a woman?" Of course she knew all about my sexual proclivity as she too was sexually involved with members of her own sex.

"I love it," I replied, "What do you think about it?"

"I love it too," she said, "In fact, I have had fantasies about it ever since you told me you were bisexual. I have always wanted to have a man who was as comfortable with his own sexuality as you are, and someone who was willing to experiment with new and exciting things. And as a woman you will be able to develop your cocksucking expertise from a different perspective, although according to Bob, you don't need any instruction in that department."

"Have you been talking to Bob?" I asked. He and I had been friends since high school and had been enjoying each other sexually almost all that time. The three of us had gotten together on a couple of occasions as Anne had expressed her desire for a threesome.

"He tells me you are the best cocksucker in the world, better than any girl he has ever been with," Anne replied. "And next time he comes over here, I want to see you go down on him, preferably while dressed in your new things."

I pressed my hard cock firmly against her thigh, the thought of the scenario she had just described was so arousing.

"In the meantime," Anne continued, "There are many other things I want to teach you and many other things I want you to do. By the time I've finished, you'll be able to go out dressed as a woman and all the men will be hitting on you."

"Not if I'm with you." I replied.

"You wait and see." Anne said.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Anne taught me a lot. Whenever I was alone with her she would show me how to walk in high heels, how to pull on a pair of stockings without putting my fingers through them, and how to apply fingernail polish. She spent even more time showing me how to makeup my face and going out with me to buy the things we needed.

At the same time she started to talk to me about hormones and what they could do for my female image. She would buy books on transsexualism and we would read them together. She bought medical dictionaries and lists of prescription drugs that we would both peruse.

Anne encouraged me to grow my own hair long as she thought natural long hair was far superior to a wig. My fingernails were longer too, painted with clear polish, unlike my toenails which were painted a bright red. She showed me how to shave under my arms and also remove my chest hair.

Being a photographer allowed me to be able to get away with these things, most people putting them down to creative eccentricities. I could frequently be seen in the studio wearing a pair of tight-fitting jeans, high heels and a shirt, which, if you looked closely, wasn't a shirt but a blouse. On the days when I didn't have to go out, I would also wear a little eye shadow, lipstick and paint my fingernails with a matching shade.

Most of the people who came to the studio thought that I was just a campy gay, and that in itself had several distinct advantages. I was able to get a lot more intimate with the female models who came in as they didn't feel the slightest bit threatened by me. And the men, who were mostly gay themselves, would hit on me with far greater regularity. I had some very enjoyable interludes with several of them.

Anne kept talking to me about hormones and other things to make me look more female. She was particularly interested in things that would make my breasts larger, and we concentrated on those things. After a few weeks she gave me the address of a doctor and I called and made an appointment.

The visit was a long one, the doctor checked me out in every way possible, including a very pleasant rectal exam. I had a hard-on almost the entire time. After it all he told me that he would be happy to help me and gave me a prescription. Taking it to the pharmacy, I had it filled. I opened the bottle as soon as I had paid for it and popped my very first Premarin in my mouth.

NEW PANTIES

Part I

Halloween was only two days away and Cory Fisk was desperate for ideas. He was laughed out of every costume store in the city and now an hour before the city rolled up its sidewalks, we was almost laughed out of every clothing store entirely. Faced with the grim thought of making his own costume he pressed on. Last year he went as a pumpkin made of an orange back and popcorn. He went home alone despite the copious amounts of alcohol that was flowing. He vowed this year would be different.

At five foot ten he was a slender man, who despite valiant attempts to hide it, really was a geek. He even had the star wars Darth Vader cape to prove it. Left with little other methods of scoring with the opposite sex, Cory was hopping to impress the rather intoxicated ladies at his fraternity Halloween party with an amazing costume. It would help break the ice, maybe even get a few girls to come to him.

This dream was being quickly shattered by each farewell bell that dunged behind him. With no more department stores left, Cory looked further down the street. Three banks made way to a pharmacy, which obscured his view from there. Having nothing better to do he strolled father down to DD's corners. A center of bars and strip clubs nestled just passed the respectable districts of the cities downtown core.

Among the seedy bars and hot night clubs was an exotic clothing retailer just opening with the falling sun casting shadows to hide its patrons. Knowing no one in the area would recognize him, Cory decided to check to see if they had any costumes left. It was out of the way for most people and the naughty nature may help improve his odds this weekend.

Blood racing for various reasons, Cory descended the concrete steps into the store. Vanilla incense assaulted him as he entered the small boutique almost making him reconsider his decision. Uncomfortable with the wares around him, he tried to calm himself by browsing the shelves. Numerous toys, video, and games were stacked all across the shop, with only a small selection of clothing left in the far corner.

Cory sighed as he wandered through the sparse collection.

"No costumes left!" Came a bark from behind him. Startled out of his skin, Cory spun to find a little old lady grimacing at him. "I got toys games and videos."

"That's okay, I was just looking," Cory said embarrassed, scanning the isles for the quickest escape.

"You like toys? We got toys for him and her. What you want?" Cory was uncertain weather the broken English spoken by the stores clerk was for real or an act, but either way it had an unsettling effect on his nerves.

"Um, her," he said trying to get to imagine the clerk to imagine that he was not a sad bachelor in need of a plastic playmate.

"Good good. You like to please her. But you know what pleases her?"

"No, I really wish I did though."

"Ah! I got just the thing!"

"No!" he screamed, feeling embarrassed. "I mean, I was really just looking for a costume really."

"Costume? You want to be someone else? Be different that what you are?"

"Yeah," he said feeling the sadness of the truth of the statement.

She stared at him hard. It felt like she could see within him scrutinizing his very being. Then all at once she broke her gaze. "Ah! I got just the thing!"

"I thought you didn't have any."

"I keep one. Special. For someone who wants to know."

Not wanting to rock the boat and loose a potential costume, Cory just silently followed the dynamic woman to the back of the shop. After numerous bangs and shouting in a language that he was sure no one could really understand, she re-emerged from the back, padding off a thick layer of dust.

Striding up to counter she plopped a box down smiling. "You like."

Peering inside, Cory pulled out a small pink thong holding it in the light until the realization hit that they were women's underwear. Shoving it back into the box quickly he flushed deeply. "This is women's cloths." He whispered.

"Yes yes, You be different. Life of party. You like."

Cory was pretty sure that wasn't a question. But as he thought about it, it was a unconventional idea and he could see the drunk girls wanting to have a suto-lesbian experience for kicks. If nothing he might at least get to second base.

"Um, how much?"

"I like you. For you my friend, 300 dollars."

"What?"

"It's special. You not regret. One size fits all. Great material."

Cory was desperate and if it got him some action no price was too high.

"Okay."

"Great! Just remember, Panties go on with two feet, pull up. For off pull down same way. One feet no work. Must be two, Off up no work, only down."

"Right." Cory said not understanding. Underwear are underwear aren't they? he though.

"You understand later! Bye now!" She shoed him away to greet the next person.

Glad to have that over with and a costume to boot Cory ran out of the adult boutique. It wasn't until he found his car that he began to wonder about the rest of the costume. Deciding it was best to wait, he through it into the back seat until he was home in the security of his apartment.

It wasn't until later that night that her got the courage to open the box again. He had never really thought of cross-dressing before but the idea of breaking the taboo was kind of exciting.

Caressing the lid he tensed and through open the lid to see the scrunched panties he had seen in the store. Laying them to the side her riffled through the rest of the paper packaging to realize to his horror that it was all filler.

"EXPLATIVE!" he screamed. "That bitch screwed me and I still got my fucking cherry!"

Tossing the box off the bed her took a good look at his new three hundred dollar panties. The pink material was sheer, with a single white bow on the top, and lace rounded off the edging. Cory had to admit they were cute.

"Well lets see what three hundred dollar panties feel like shall we."

Slipping off his jeans and boxers, and after discovering which end was up, he slowly pulled up the panties. As the lacy thong slipped between his pelvis to rest against his bare privates, the room spun into darkness.

He woke a while later coughing stale air from his lungs. Making sure his vision was steady, he walked into the bathroom, the only room with a mirror, to check to see if his brains were poking out anywhere. The slight buzzing in his head was almost pleasant.

Flipping the light switch he peered into the mirror about the small sink. Confused as why he didn't see himself he tilted back and forth to see passed the woman in his line of vision. Poking the mirror, realization slowly filtered in. The hands before him were smaller, more feminine, the arms were groomed hairless, the chest, the CHEST?! was huge! Tearing off his shirt he stared at the large globes on his chest. Breasts. He had freaking breasts!

Looking back into the feminine face before him, he cross-referenced his vision with touch. A caress of his breasts brought their nipples to full attention, a quick pinch brought out a involuntary moan, as it tingled down the length of his body. A wetness below drew his attention away from the breasts before him.

Looking down, he could see a growing we spot on the pink thong, which barely obscured a gorgeous pussy beneath. Pulling the band out he looked down into the panties to see a neatly cropped fuzz glistening with juice just above a tight snatch. Slipping his fingers down into the wetness he gasped again as probing fingers grazed a sensitive clit that stood out proudly within its folds.

Brushing it again, he began adding pressure reveling in the pleasure. The body went into autopilot, hands exploring and caressing round smooth curves. Unable to hold back, Cory rubbed his clit vigorously while pinching hard on his left nipple. The building pleasure felt like it was going to tear him apart. "Oh Fuck!" he screamed. A the orgasm hit hard, buckling his legs out from under him.

The cold floor was a welcome relief. As the orgasm subsided rational thought began to filter back into his pleasure addled mind. Wondering about the old woman's words, he sat there wondering if he could reverse the change the panties had done. "Something about up no work only down," he said to himself. Only the voice wasn't his and now that he thought back, neither was the earlier scream. "Luke Skywalker," he tested. The feminine voice was there still.

Panicked he reached down to the panties and yanked them off. Again the worlds spun around him leaving his vision black. This time however he remained conscious. As his vision cleared he looked down to a flat chest and his familiar unit dangling on the cold floor. "Luke Skywalker," it was his voice now too.

Reaching down he found the pink thong marveling at the bargain he had made.

Part II

The next day Cory left work early. He told his supervisor that he wasn't feeling well, and truthfully, the cube farm really didn't need him for the afternoon. I few numbers wouldn't be crunched, but no one world even really notice. Such is the life of a data entry clerk.

Almost running to his car, ideas raced through his mind of what to do with his free afternoon. There was much to be done! He had spent the entire night awake thinking about what name to use only to settle on the more feminine Cori for simplicity sake and he or she rather could easily use her credit card saying they just spelled it wrong.

Outfits would be needed along with some bra's and if time a Halloween costume for the party. He had always wanted to be someone different, and now he could. The possibilities buzzed in his brain.

At home he quickly undressed and pulled out the panties that he had stashed in the bottom of his underwear drawer. Pausing to wonder if it work again he lied down on his small double bed, not wanting to fall again, and slipped the panties on. A wave dizziness passed over him, which he blinked away. Confused he patted himself, the transformation was much less intense, but it still worked!

Running to the bathroom mirror, he saw the same girl from the night before stared back at him. "Luke Skywalker!" she giggled.

Stretching into her new body she noticed her well formed breasts giggle a little. Her nipples pointing out in the cool apartment air. Unable to control the urge, she pinched them again, gently at first, then harder while massaging her breasts. It was amazing to watch the reflection and see this gorgeous woman playing with her tits.

Lifting one to her mouth, she strained her neck to lick the hard nipple. Gasping she moaned at the new sensation. With great restraint she lowered her hands away from their new toys, and balled them in fists to keep them from finding more trouble down below.

"Time to go shopping!" she smiled.

Walking back into his bedroom the realization struck her. She needed cloths to go shopping for cloths. Sighing she rummaged through his clothes. Most were far too loose in some areas and far too tight in others. Finally finding an old baggy pair of kaki's and tying up an old work shirt like she had seen in the movies, she stuffed his credit card in her pocket and through on what seemed like supper sized shoes and finally was out the door.

The mall proved more daunting than she thought. Four hundred stores, a good three hundred of them women's clothing stores, proved to be a horror of too many options. And then there were the guys in the mall. Constantly checking her out. Judging her on her shabby appearance. The rude comments she overheard only motivated her though. If they wanted to fuck her like this, wait until she found clothes that would drip sex. Then they would beg her and she could steal their girlfriends instead!

Finally deciding that fist thing would be to contain her lovely melons, she stopped in the Victoria secret store. Looking over the walls of lingerie, she would have drooled if it wasn't so afraid of how to pick things out. Her pulse raced as a women who looked to be in her mid thirties, wearing a managers tag approached her.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" she asked politely. Her smile was reassuring and helped Cori relax.

"Um, I- this is kinda embarrassing. I need some bra's n' stuff. I really don't know what size."

"Oh, don't worry hun. Most girls your age don't even realize they are wearing the wrong sizes. You're a head of the game. Come with me and we'll get you sized up perfectly!"

Taking her into the changing room the woman brought in several bra's and her measuring tape.

"Lift your arms," she said sliding the tape around her chest, just below her breasts. The proximity of another woman so close to her naked breasts, brought her nipples back to full attention. "Okay move your arms I need to measure your cups too."

Reluctantly, Cori uncovered her breasts worried at what the woman would say. She didn't seem to mind. Just took the measurements and reached down to adjust a lacy blue bra. "Try this. You're a good thirty-two and just on the verge of a D, but most of the time you're going to be best off his a C-cup. It will give you the best lift and cleavage."

Fumbling with the bra she finally twisted it around to set the hooks in front before reversing it properly. This was going to take some practice! Slipping the straps up she marveled at the image in the mirror.

The manager surprised her by reaching up and helping with the adjustments, cupping her tits, lingering a while longer than Cori thought was appropriate. "How does that feel hun?"

"Good," Cori sighed at the feeling of the woman caressing her lacy breasts.

Leaving one hand to linger on her breasts, working at a stray piece of lint conveniently close to Cori's nipple, the woman slid her other hand down across her naked abdomen. Cori gasped at the feeling of the manager's fingernails caressing her skin. Unable to resist, Cori rolled her head back unto the woman's shoulder and stared into the eyes through the mirror.

She watched as this thirty-something woman slipped her fingers further down, undoing her baggy pants. "My my, I think you may need a new pair of panties to match your new bra." She purred in Cori's ear. I'll be back with a few more sets for you to try on.

After she left and Cori's hormones cleared from her rational brain she remembered why she was a woman. The panties can't come off or the transformation would reverse. Images of this lesbian lingerie manager getting an eye full of his geek-meat gave her a shiver. Panicked, Cori thought back to his conversation with the old woman down town. There had to be a loop hole. What did she say? Something about, up no work?

Desperate to try anything, Cori slid her panties down to her knees and carefully lifted one leg through the lacy thong. Darting her vision from panty it mirror she was still a woman! No what? Up no work. Unable to think of anything else, she pulled the thong up careful not to stretch it beyond breaking over her tits, and finally over her head. Staring into the mirror she stared at the beautiful naked woman in front of her. It worked!

Elated at the success she forgot that manager was coming back and nearly screamed when the door of the dressing room opened again. "It's just me hun. I have a more things for you to try."

For the next hour the two continued to play dress up with Cori's body. Lace and silk as well as a collection of everyday cotton were slipped on and ripped off teasingly. Beyond reason, Cori submitted to the manager marveling at how her beauty had such a powerful effect on another person. Emboldened by this power she began to tease back. Letting the woman's hands stray for only so long before pulling back.

Smiling at the woman's frustration, Cori guided the woman's caressing around her body, teasing herself as much as the manager. Finally when she felt like she was ready to explode, she pulled the woman's hungry mouth to hers. The kiss was tender at first, there was a sweet taste of her lip gloss as it rubbed off onto Cori's lips. Parting her mouth slightly, the Manager dove her tongue in desperately clinging to the young beauty before her.

Kissing ravenously, the manager worked her way down, pausing to suckle on each breast while her deft hands caressed seemingly random parts of her body. Cori returned the passion by puling the woman's skirt down and with no further pretense, slid her hand into her soaked panties. Cori could see her bight her lip from screaming. Despite their passionate desires, this woman was trying to maintain control or loose her job.

Afraid of screaming out, the woman, pulled away from Cori and dropped to her knees. Grabbing Cori's ass roughly, she pulled her pussy to her waiting mouth licking its length twice before sucking hard on her enflamed clit, lashing it with her tongue.

Also not wanting to scream Cori firmly clamped her mouth shut as the obviously experienced woman worked her magic. Waves of pleasure grew faster and stronger until they seemed never ending. Then every muscle tightened hard and released with a powerful orgasm.

She had one as a woman before, but it was nothing like this. The release was so much stronger and longer than before. And an unmistakable trickle was running down her thigh where it touched the gently suckling woman's cheek.

Giggling at the ticklish lickings of the manager Cori pulled away. "Mmm thank you for al your help."

Standing to kiss her, Cori could taste her pussy on the woman's tongue. "Anytime hun. But before we get into trouble, maybe we can sell you some of this. At a generous discount of course."

"I'll take it all!"

SISSY BOY CHUCK BECOMES JUST SISSY

A long time ago, I realized that I had a thing for women's clothing. I used to sneak into my sister, Jessica's room and get all dolled up in her clothes. She was a year older than me, but we were practically the same size. I got an incredible hard-on looking at myself in her full length mirror. I quickly undressed, put everything back the way I found it, then almost ran back to my room and masturbated furiously. I knew I had found something great.

For a while I only got to enjoy this new hobby every few weeks when my sister would go to a friend's house while my parents were working. Years later, when I was 19 and she 20, while in college she started going to Missy's house just about every day.

As soon as she was out the door I'd be putting on one outfit after another, and beating off between each one. Her nightshirts, her bikini, her short shorts, even the conservative dresses she wore to church. I looked great in them all.

One day after dressing in a short skirt and pull over sweater, I started looking for shoes. Instead, I found her diary. I just had to take a glance. Opening it to a random page, I read some boring blurb about a class she hated, Biology, I think. I flipped a few pages and read a blurb about Marcy, a girl in her class that she doesn't like. Boring, but when I flipped to another page, there it was, "Today when I went into my closet, the dress I had picked out for the dance wasn't where I left it and I think someone has been in my closet." Wow I better start being a lot more careful.

But on the very next page. "Today I found a spot on my new skirt. I know it wasn't there before. I know it sounds paranoid but I think someone's been in my room."

Not good, She's noticing things.

The next page was worse, "Found my panty drawer a little messy. I think Chuck is going through my stuff."

Oh God she knows it's me.

In a panic I looked further ahead. "Once again today I went to Missy's house. Before leaving I carefully arranged all my clothes. I came home and stuff was moved. Not much, but enough. Chuck was the only one home. It must be him. I wonder what he's looking for. You don't think he could be wearing my clothes."

Oh God now she's even guessed my secret. I've got to get out of here. I put her diary back, quickly changed out of my sister's clothes and put them all neatly back where they came from.

I went back to my room and pulled out my dick and started stroking. I couldn't get into it though. Every time I'd think of the sexy feel of those panties, I knew I'd never feel that thrill again, and got a little down in the dumps.

Then suddenly my bedroom door burst open. There stood Jessica glaring at me. Apparently she had come home early.

"Put that away." she said pointing at the dick in my hand.

I turned beat red and tucked my dick back in my sweats. "Get out of my room!" I Yelled.

"Don't get indignant with me. Get up and come with me" She demanded.

I quickly got up and followed her down the hall to her room. I thought she found something out of place. I'll just deny it, and never, ever go in her room again.

As I turned and walked into her room Jessica was sitting down at her computer. "You should have read further into my diary."

How could she have figured that one out "I I I didn't." I stammered

"Shut up!" she yelled as she typed on her keyboard "Not another word. I know what you've been doing little sissy boy. If you would have read further you would have read how Missy showed me how to rig up this web camera, and how I've taped all you're little fashion shows for the last week or so."

With that she hit another key or two and a video of me dressed in one of Jessica's nighties came up on her screen.

I know I flushed beet red and even as I stood there trying to create an excuse I could feel my dick start to harden as I watched myself on her screen prancing around the room.

She hit a few more keys and the video changed to me in a knee length black skirt and pink sweater laying on her bed reading one of her romance novels.

"I I c-c-can explain." I stuttered

"I said not another word." she commanded "Do I need to call up more videos? I have eight days of your little games."

I just shook my head no.

A few more clicks and the screen went mercifully blank.

Jessica stood and walked directly in front of me. "Now here's the deal little sissy boy. Missy and I watched you live."

I blushed again. Missy was about the only one of my sister's friends I liked. She was hot and now she too knew my little secret.

"I wanted to give the tapes to Mom and Dad." she continued

"Please don't. Dad will kill me." I begged

She grabbed my chin and looking me dead in the eye said "If you say another word that's exactly what I will do. Do you understand?"

I just nodded.

She let go of my chin and started pacing in front of me.

"I wanted to give them to Mom and Dad, but Missy talked me out of it."

I always liked that girl.

"Missy said we should hold these tapes over your fucking little sissy head and make you do everything we say or not only will Mom and Dad get them in their work emails, but we'll slip them in at the next school assembly and post them on U-tube."

I hate that Missy bitch.

"So sissy boy from now on your going to do exactly as I command. Is that clear?"

I just nodded, what else could I do.

Just then the doorbell rang. "Good timing." Jessica said "Let's try a little test. Take off those sweats."

"What the hell for?" I said

Jessica glared at me "That'll be your last outburst, or the entire town will get to know you as I do sissy boy. Now get them off or else."

I flushed beet red again but did as I was told. I was mortified standing in front of my own sister butt naked.

"Better." she said "now go let Missy in and get back here quick."

I reached for my sweats but Jessica snatched them away before I had a chance, pointed at the door and said "Like that!"

I walked down the steps and through the foyer covering as much as I could with my hands. I turned the knob on the door then ran all the way back to my sister's room.

Missy let herself the rest of the way in , closed the door then joined us in Jessica's room. Missy put a box on Jessica's bed and said "that's what I could part with." then turned and looked me up and down.

I was doubly mortified.

She said "He really is kind of girlie isn't he."

Jessica said "He says he'll be good.

Missy said "We'll see. Tomorrow after school." then she turned to me and said "I'll see myself out" and left.

Jessica just left me standing there looking stupid and went over and started looking through the box Missy had brought. When she turned around she handed me a pair of plain white cotton bikini panties. She said "Put them on sissy boy."

I did as I was told.

She said "come on turn around."

I did a little turn so she could see them all around,

"They'll do sissy boy." She said "Mom and Dad will be home in a few minutes. Keep those on under your clothes. You will be right here in this spot wearing only those tomorrow as soon as you get home from school. Got It?"

Once again I only nodded.

"And don't go cumming all over them. Those are Missy's. Now get out." with that she tossed me my sweats.

I went to my room, locked the door, then sat down and almost cried. They had me. What could I do. I had to figure something out. I tried to think but my thoughts kept wandering. Wandering to my growing dick. The fact that I was wearing Missy's panties would not leave my head. I pulled my sweats and Missy's panties off and began to stroke my boner.

A second later I heard my mother yell that she needed help bringing in the groceries. I let go of my cock and started to pull on my sweats. Then I thought better of it and pulled on the panties, then my sweats and t-shirt.

My sister made sure I spent a lot of time with my parents that night. After dinner it was a couple games of cards, then a long game of monopoly all at my sister's request and of course I agreed with all her suggestions, whether I really wanted too or not. Once, when we were alone in the kitchen, she pulled my sweats down a little. She smiled and whispered "Panty check." patted my ass, and went back in the other room.

It was obvious she wasn't going to let me get away without wearing them.

The next day at school, I had a hard on most of the day. It was so kinky having these panties rubbing on my cock all day.

When Jessica and I got off the school bus I went to my room took off all my clothes and then went to my sister's room. Jessica was waiting on me.

"It's about time sissy boy." she said. "There are two boxes on my bed. They are filled with clothes that Missy and I no longer wear or want. You want to wear women's clothes? These are now yours. You will dress in these clothes from the time you get home from school until Mom or Dad gets home from work. Do you understand?"

"Yes." I said, my cock growing hard at the thought.

"Pick out an outfit and get dressed." She ordered

I went straight to the box Missy brought over. I had tried most of Jessica's clothes before. I found a nice leopard print mini, a black lace bra, and a black button front shirt I thought would go with the skirt.

I started to put on the bra when Jessica yelled "Change your nasty panties, Your not a skank." and tossed me a black lace thong from her box.

I changed into my new outfit, then was made to do a turn so I could be checked out again.

Jessica told me to put the rest of the clothes away in my room, she expected them to be in my drawers and closet where they belong. I took the two boxes to my room and as I sorted out my new wardrobe, my hard cock ached for release. There was some nice stuff in the boxes and I was somewhat anxious to try them all on. Before I could get much put away the door bell rang.

"Answer that Sissy." Jessica bellowed.

Down the stairs I walked praying it wasn't the UPS man. I peeked out and saw it was Missy. I opened the door and let her in. She asked "Is Jessica upstairs Sissy?"

I said "Yes." and she started up the stairs. Damn she looked good. Missy attends the local catholic school so she was wearing her plaid skirt and white button up shirt.

I started back for my room to put the rest of my stuff away when I got called into my sister's room. When I walked in Jessica walked up and lifted my skirt showing off my thong. "See." she said "She's just not right."

Missy agreed and told me to strip. I thought about protesting then decided I better not. I did as I was told. As soon as I was naked I was escorted into the bathroom and made to stand in the shower. The two girls produced safety razors and shaving cream. First they shaved my legs then my arm pits, then giggling the began to shave my pubes. By the time they were done I didn't have a hair on my body and my cock was rock hard.

They took me back into Jessica's room and explained to me that I was to shave myself hairless, like they just showed me, every third day.

Next Missy produced a wig and showed me how to wear it. Then the two girls taught me how to do my make up although they assured me most days makeup would not be required.

Then I got redressed in the clothes I had on before minus the panties. Missy stuffed fake breasts into my bra then looking down said "Now take care of that." pointing at my hard-on.

I just stood there. What was she wanting me to do?

Jessica took over the lead "She means do what we all know you want to do. Beat off."

I was in shock. I didn't think I could get myself off with my sister watching, but I knew better than to argue so I grabbed my cock and started slowly stroking it.

My sister walked out of the room and left me alone with her hot friend. Missy stepped in front of me and replaced my hand with hers. Her soft hand stroked gently but quickly driving me straight towards the edge. Just as I thought I would cum, Jessica reentered the room.

Missy quickly let go before Jessica could see what she was doing. "Hurry up Sissy. We don't have all day" She scolded.

"Here." Jessica said handing me a washcloth, "Don't you dare get any of that on my carpet."

Jessica walked past Missy to her computer. As soon as she was occupied and could not see what Missy was doing, Missy raised her hand and licked my pre-cum from her hand.

That was all I could stand. I shot a huge load into the wash cloth. My knees went weak as I pumped out shot after shot. Before I was even finished Jessica stepped in front of me and said "Good. Now get yourself cleaned up."

I finished the last few pumps then gently wiped off my softening cock then started pulling on my panties.

"Hold on Sissy." Jessica said "We have something to do first."

Jessica had me stand with my feet spread as far apart as I could get them. I had no idea what these two were up to now, but Missy circled around behind me. Before I knew what she was doing, She reached between my legs, grabbed my flaccid cock and tucked it up between my legs. As shocked as I was, the next move shocked me even more. Missy placed a huge piece of tape over all but the head of my cock, taping it securely in place.

"Now put your panties on." Jessica demanded.

Once again I did as I was told.

Jessica and Missy both held my skirt up and admired their handy work. "It worked." said Jessica.

"I told you it would." Missy said then looked at me and continued "Not only will you remain shaved, but you will remain taped as well. You may remove it at night for your shower, but in the morning, before you dress it will be taped up.

"But how will I pee?" I asked

"You'll have to sit." Jessica said "like the little lady you are."

"If you feel the need to play with that thing." Missy said, "You better do it at night, while it's not taped. During the day you are Sissy. And Sissy doesn't have a cock to play with."

With that she escorted me over in front of Jessica's full length mirror. With my face done up and the wig on I really did look like a girl. My only thought was that if my cock wasn't all taped up, I'd probably have a raging hard on.

Just then Mom yelled "I'm home."

Oh no we'd lost track of time. Quickly I started to undress. "Not in my room you don't." Yelled Jessica.

I gave her a pleading look, but seeing no mercy I peeked out the door then ran to my room to change clothes and remove the makeup. As soon as I was in my sweats and t-shirt and had cleaned myself up, I went downstairs to get a drink. In the kitchen mom stood talking to Missy and Jessica. I stepped around them and got a soda from the fridge.

"Jessica tells me her and Missy are working on a project after school here at the house." Mom said.

I blushed beet red and said "Yeah I guess so."

"They tell me they may be working on it everyday for a while." Mom continued "I hope that doesn't cramp your style."

Both girls giggled and the tape on my cock seemed to tighten. I looked at both the girls and without missing a beat said "I don't care. If they need anything, all they have to do is ask."

Both girls gave me a sly look as I slid past them into the living room.

It took a couple days for me to get comfortable taping up my cock and keeping it that way all day. But as I got used to it, it wasn't so bad.

The girls worked on their project everyday at first. I was taught how to sit like a lady. I practiced doing my own make up. I was corrected anytime I let my voice deepen at all. And anytime I did something, as they would say, like a man, I was forced to repeat the action over and over again as Sissy until I got it right.

After just a couple weeks, most of Chuck was gone in the time between school and the time Mom got home. During that period of time each day I became Sissy.

I know my sister thought she was torturing me but in truth I derived great pleasure from being Sissy.

Because I was so thoroughly Sissy for those couple hours each day my training had pretty much ended. The girls made Sissy do their homework, do their hair and their nails, and all kinds of chores around the house. Oh and when Missy had her period, so did Sissy, and I had to wear a pad in my panties for a week.

By the end of a month I was beginning to think they were done trying to torture me and were beginning to be friends with Sissy.

Oh they still had me waiting on them hand and foot, but some days I was left alone in my room, to do as I pleased, as long as I did it as Sissy. Other days we talked about boys, read romance novels or just watched TV.

It seemed us three girls, were growing tight, which was funny because anytime I saw the two of them and was dressed as Chuck, they wouldn't give me the time of day.

Another month passed, and Sissy was being treated as more of an equal. We did each others nails and hair. Sissy still had her chores to do, but Jessica had taken to doing her own instead of making Sissy do them.

Then one day as the three of us were sitting around talking, Jessica admitted that she had grown fond of Sissy.

Missy said to Jessica "I still hate that creepy brother of yours, but I like Sissy a lot."

"Yeah." agreed Jessica "I wish he'd just disappear altogether and it would be just me and my little sister Sissy." with that she gave me a hug. A hug. I can't think of the last time my sister hugged me. It kind of freaked me out.

When she broke the embrace, I said "I've come to like you girls a lot too. But, since school is out soon, I guess we only have a couple weeks left"

Samantha's jaw dropped. When she recovered from her shock she said "Sissy, I'm a little surprised. You think this ends with school." Then her voice got a lot more threatening "Mom leaves for work every morning at seven AM and gets home sometime after six. That means for 11 hours a day you WILL be Sissy. Remember I still have the videos and we're about to ratchet Sissy up to the next level." Her voice then returned to the friendly tone she had been using "Won't that be great?"

"Yes." I answered, "I hadn't thought of that." I really hadn't. I'd been enjoying being Sissy for a few hours a day, but eleven hours a day and what the hell did she mean about the next level. I thought I would get to spend this summer like the ones in the past, outside playing ball, but it looked like Sissy was going to be inside playing dolls.

The next day after school, I was getting dressed when Samantha appeared at my door. She threw me her little yellow sun dress. She said "I believe you have a yellow bra and panty set with butterflies on them that will go nicely with that."

I said "Yes I do, but why?"

"I'm not wearing that any more." She said "Besides you're not supposed to ask a bunch of questions."

She turned to start to leave then stopped "Oh yeah. Do your makeup today too. I have something special planned." then she left.

I got dressed then sat at my dresser and carefully did my makeup. Part way through I heard the doorbell ring. Missy is here, I thought. Jessica yelled from downstairs "I'll get it."

A few seconds later I heard the girls giggling as they came up stairs and into Jessica's room. "Hurry up and get in here Sissy." Jessica yelled. "The conversation may start without you."

I hurriedly finished my makeup, arranged my wig and then got up and admired Sissy in my full length mirror. "Damn boy, you make a pretty girl." I said and with a bit of a pirouette headed for my bedroom door.

I loved the look and feel of this sundress so much I damn near skipped down the hall and into Jessica's room. That's where my elation ended. Standing in the room was Jessica, Missy, and another girl. This drop dead gorgeous blonde was about 5 foot 6 and dressed in the catholic school's uniform just like Missy, but her skirt was much, much shorter, and her shirt was stretched tight over the largest breasts I've ever seen.

Missy said "Ellen, this is Jessica's kid sister Sissy. Sissy this is my friend from school, Ellen"

I reached out and gave her my best "girl" handshake.

Ellen shook my hand, and said "Pleasure to meet you. Sissy, is it?"

"Yes. I'm Sissy and it's nice to meet you." I replied.

"Ellen doesn't know too many people here." Missy said. "She's pretty new so I thought I'd introduce her to you two."

We all sat around Jessica's room and talked and talked and talked, just like girls will do. I had to keep telling myself to stop staring at her gigantic breasts, I didn't want Ellen to think Sissy was gay.

After while the conversation got around to why Ellen had moved to our little town. Seems her step dad was convinced she was having sex with every guy in town. So, he sent her to live with her aunt and attend catholic school.

"The funny thing is." she said "I'm not doing anybody. As a matter of fact, I'm still a virgin."

"A body like that and still a virgin???" I thought.

The other girls must have thought the same thing because they both said "Really?" at the same time.

Ellen assured us it was true, then went on to tell us "I want to. But I'm afraid I'll get pregnant." We had a long talk about birth control. I felt a little out of place as we discussed how the boys don't really care about such things, as birth control and whether or not us girls have an orgasm.

Then Missy said "If you really want to lose you're cherry, I'll bet Sissy could hook you up with one of her men. She spends a lot of time playing with the boys, if you know what I mean."

"Really?" Ellen gushed "Could you Sissy? I'd really owe you big time."

"I don't know?" I said, thinking how the hell would I manage to fix her up and keep my secret from her and whoever this guy is.

"Sure she can." said Jessica. Then glaring at me said "Won't you Sissy?"

"Sure." I said "I'll do my best."

Jessica checked her watch and said "Oh shit. It's ten to 6. My Mom will be home any minute. She doesn't like us having a bunch of guests. You girls better go. But don't worry Ellen. Sissy will hook you up with a great guy. Won't you Sissy?"

"Yeah." I said "A great guy."

Ellen and Missy got up to leave. Ellen hugged me close, pressing her massive jugs into my fake breasts then kissed me right on the lips. My cock strained against the tape but it held and kept me from getting hard and ruining my little secret.

"Thank you Sissy." Ellen said "I'll owe you forever."

Then her and Missy headed for the door. I headed for my room to get cleaned up and changed before Mom's arrival.

Samantha stopped me, but waited for the door downstairs to close before speaking. As soon as she heard the click she turned to me and said "I'm very happy, Sissy. You passed your first test. You convinced a complete stranger that you are indeed a girl."

"I did. Didn't I?" I said grinning from ear to ear.

"That means we can move on." Samantha said "Schools out this Thursday. Monday we start phase two and a whole new series of tests for pretty little Sissy."

"Phase two?" I questioned "What's phase two, and what tests?"

"Monday." Samantha laughed "You'll start finding out on Monday. And you better find a great guy for Ellen, or I may get angry." Then stepped back into her room and closed the door.

I stood in the hallway dumbfounded trying to think of what more could she want of me until I heard my mother opening the door. I ran into my room and started my cleanup thinking I guess I'll have to wait until Monday.

BODY IMAGE

"Sit down Mona. We have to talk."

He had heard those two tiny sentences more than a few times in the last several weeks. Every time he did he felt a strange queasiness in the pit of his stomach. Yet no matter how hard he tried, he could not refuse. He walked over to the couch across from the chair where Kathleen was already sitting and sat down.

He sat at the very edge of the couch, crossed one smooth leg over the other and folded his hands over his crossed knees. He pointed the toes of his dangling foot toward the floor and leaned forward expectantly. It seemed perfectly natural and comfortable to Michael to sit like this.

Kathleen was watching him very carefully.

"You look very pretty today, Mona."

Michael felt himself blushing. He looked down at the short green jersey dress he was wearing and absent-mindedly smoothed out a few non-existent wrinkles. He noted his pale slender hand with its perfectly shaped oval nails coated with silver polish. His feet, naked inside a pair of high-heeled strappy sandals, were decorated with ten adorable little silver toenails. Michael looked up shyly from under his thick lashes, but not enough to meet her eyes.

"Thank you ma'am," he said.

"I do believe green is your color. It really brings out your eyes."

Kathleen enjoyed seeing Michael's shyness. How different he was now from the brash impudent son-of-a-bitch who thought he could have an affair with her and then just dump her when her emotional involvement became too much for him. He thought all he had to do was declare that he was returning to his wife and she would just vanish into thin air. Michael thought he was in control of the situation. He was wrong. All he had to do was take one look in the mirror to see just how wrong he'd been.

***

"I don't think we should see each other anymore."

He'd actually had the nerve to tell her right after they made love. Kathleen thought he might be joking at first. But the look on his face told her he was only too serious. He was already out of bed and beginning to get dressed. Kathleen realized he was going back to the office. He was going back to the office as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. She gathered the sheet at her breasts to cover herself and stared at him in a state of shock. They had met at her townhouse during lunch hour as they often did. Michael had taken a cab from Wall Street. Kathleen rode the subway from the office where she practiced psychotherapeutic hypnotherapy. The townhouse was their little love-nest. The place where they could come together and consummate their forbidden love until the day it could be made legitimate.

At least that is the way Kathleen had seen it.

"Please don't be angry sweetheart," he continued. He was standing in his underwear and shirtsleeves, fastening his cufflinks. "It's better for everyone this way. Especially you."

The condescension in his tone was unbearable. Kathleen was speechless. His sudden change of heart had come on so suddenly. Up to that point, Michael had been promising her that he would leave his wife and that they would have a future together. Kathleen had put her life on hold for sixteen long months waiting. And now, just like that, Michael was telling her they were through.

"Try to understand. These things happen. In a month or so, you'll meet someone new and forget all about me. You'll see."

He was crouching down, fixing his hair in the bureau mirror. Kathleen finally found her voice.

"You bastard."

Michael turned towards her.

"I'm sorry Kathleen," he said. "I really love my wife. I can't leave her. I hope someday you'll come to understand."

Oh she understood all right. She understood only too well.

Kathleen had no desire to say the usual things one said in these situations. The ease and callousness with which Michael had proposed breaking off their affair told Kathleen all she needed to know. Michael retreated into the bathroom to finish dressing and when he came out he found Kathleen downstairs in her robe and slippers. Michael looked at her questioningly.

"I've canceled my clients for this afternoon," she said simply.

There was an awkward silence that Kathleen did not rescue him from. She had made their whole relationship easy for the selfish son-of-a-bitch. She wasn't going to make this part easy.

"Oh," Michael said. He looked at his watch. "I really should be getting back."

"How about one last drink before you go. For old time's sake?"

"Look Kathleen, I think its best..."

Kathleen cut him off. "Don't worry Michael. I have no intention of creating a scene. I just want fifteen minutes to change your mind..."

"Kathleen I'm not going to change my mind."

"Maybe not, Michael. But after everything I've been through for you, I think you owe me at least that much. I could have caused a lot of trouble. I still can. But I haven't. I've tried to do the right thing in a very difficult situation. I think you can at least show me the same consideration."

Michael couldn't argue with that. He sat down at the edge of the couch that he would one day soon get to know all too well and waited as Kathleen returned with a pair of drinks that already seemed to have been prepared. As she approached, her robe opened a little with each step and Michael found his gaze traveling from the tips of her slender toes to the cool white inside of her thighs. He was going to miss that body.

Damn, he was going to miss sex with Kathleen. He had never met anyone who was so empathetic in bed. She seem to know everything he wanted without him having to say a word. Was he making a mistake? Did he really want to stop seeing her?

He had to stop thinking like this. He loved his wife. He wanted to save his marriage. Christine had given him an ultimatum. Her—or me. Michael had made his choice. It was difficult but it was final. It was—

He saw the side of Kathleen's breasts in the "v" of her robe, felt her warmth, smelled her sweet scent—

Kathleen handed him a glass and smiled. Michael looked up with a start and took the drink. He looked into Kathleen's irresistibly bright blue eyes and sheepishly returned Kathleen's smile. She didn't seem upset anymore. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad, after all.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"It's okay Mona."

"What did you say?"

"Michael..."

That's a pretty robe, Michael thought as he sipped his drink. It looked so soft and silky. And he loved the vibrant colors so much better than his drab suit. It must feel so good next to the skin. He especially liked the way it fell open as Kathleen sat across from him, knees crossed, one long, smooth leg exposed. Michael didn't realize it but he was sitting that way, too.

Michael shook his head, confused. What in the world was he thinking? He had to get out of here. He had to get back to the office. He wanted to call his wife and tell her the affair was over.

"Kathleen, listen..."

He started to get up and then sank back down onto the couch. He was looking at Kathleen's feet. They looked so sexy in those open-toed slippers with the slender high heels. The slippers were totally impractical and had no other purpose but to make Kathleen's feet and legs look pretty. Michael wondered what he would look like in those slippers. Would he be able to walk in them? How would his shaved legs look? He pictured his toes, painted, tapping the air like Kathleen's.

"You don't really want to leave me, do you Mona?"

"Huh?" he said, still staring at Kathleen's toes.

Kathleen repeated her question.

"No," Michael heard himself saying. "I really don't want to leave."

Kathleen smiled. Her ex-lover was sitting across from her, legs crossed, tapping his foot, dreaming of what it would be like to be wearing a woman's robe and slippers.

And that was only the beginning.

"Hey wait a minute...I didn't mean...Kathleen?"

Michael felt very disoriented. He suddenly realized the way he was sitting, what he was thinking.

"Don't be alarmed Mona. It's perfectly okay."

"What—what have you done to me?" Michael said, looking dazed.

Kathleen wanted Michael to know exactly what was going to happen to him. It would be his last chance to know his fate. Once she started his deep re-conditioning, he would only have partial occasional glimpses back to the person he used to be. She had brought him up just to the level of awareness where he had enough of his own mind to understand but not enough to resist her.

"I suspected that you wouldn't have the balls to leave your wife," Kathleen explained. "So I planned for this day."

Michael looked down at his glass. "My drink..."

"You were stupid to take that drink, of course. It contains a very powerful psychotropic drug. I use it in my practice for extraordinary cases. I won't bore you with the details, Mona. You wouldn't understand them, and besides, you'll forget them soon anyway."

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

"What honey?"

"You know."

"No, I don't. Tell me."

"Mona...dammit..." Michael suddenly pictured himself in a pair of black lace panties. He could feel himself growing aroused. "You're calling me..."

"Mona."

"Please stop," Michael whispered, unable to shake the image of himself in a yellow sundress and white platform sandals.

"It's your new name. Don't you like it? I know for a fact that you do. It was the name of your first real girlfriend. How do I know that? You have no secrets from me, Mona, none."

Kathleen saw the flash of panic pass across Michael's face.

"That name has a special erotic significance for you. Now, every time you hear it, you will find yourself falling deeper into trance. And since it's your name, you'll hear it all the time, even if that is the only thing people know about you. Ingenious isn't it, Mona? You're name itself will become your bondage."

Michael imagined his legs in a pair of black fishnet thigh-highs. He slurred his words. "You bitch..."

"There's no need to be unpleasant, Mona. It won't help matters any. The important thing is that the drug enhances your powers of suggestibility, and, in your case, trainability. Take another sip."

Michael found himself bringing the glass to his lips. He tried to stop himself, but it was no use. To his horror, he took a sip of the drugged drink.

"See? You will find that you've become extraordinarily cooperative. I'm afraid you aren't going back to your wife, Mona. Ever."

"You can't do this," Michael sputtered. But he couldn't stop the images from coming, images that kept him at the peak of arousal. "I'll make you...pay for this... you can't..."

"Enough Mona," Kathleen said. "I'm tired of hearing you talk. From here on out, you'll just listen."

Michael sat rigid, unable to move or talk.

Kathleen cocked her head to one side, enjoying the look of helpless bewilderment on his face.

"Perhaps you're wondering about these new desires you suddenly have," she continued after a moment's pause. "Well, Mona, this may come as something of a shock to you..."

Kathleen laughed.

"I guess you are having a lot of shocks about now. But the fact is that these desires aren't new or sudden. You've fantasized about becoming a woman for some time now."

Kathleen could read the internal struggle on Michael's face. He tried to protest but he could make nothing but a few inarticulate sounds.

"Oh hush, Mona and just listen," Kathleen said. "You see, on some level, your desire to be a girl has been there all you're life. Remember when you asked me to put you under hypnosis to help you stop smoking? I did more than just help you kick that disgusting two-pack-a-day habit, honey. I took a look into your sexual subconscious. I was quite surprised at what I found."

He had given up trying to fight. And now Kathleen saw the fear in his eyes.

"Don't get all upset, Mona. It would have surfaced eventually anyway. If not now, then in five years, ten years, and who knows how it would have affected your life. I just hastened along the inevitable. Besides, better now while you'll still look good in a string bikini."

Kathleen had gotten up off the couch and now stood over him. She reached down, squeezed his cheeks together so that his lips puckered, and gave him a long, lingering kiss.

"You are going to look so adorable darling," she said. "But first, we have to talk."

Michael didn't remember much of what happened next. He didn't remember, for instance, standing completely naked in the middle of Kathleen's living room while his ex-mistress sipped her drink and watched with mild amusement. He didn't remember being ordered into the shower to shave off his body hair or the hypnotic prompt that caused him to feel sexually excited by the feel of a pair of silky panties.

He didn't remember being told what small genitals he had or that his legs were very pretty in a girly way. He didn't remember painting his toenails and fingernails "peek-a-boo" red while watching a rerun of "Friends" and sipping a Slim-Fast or being put to bet that night in Kathleen's guest room wearing a frilly baby-doll nightie. What Michael did remember was the shock of being called downstairs the next morning and finding his wife Christine in the living room of Kathleen's townhouse.

Christine's jaw dropped.

Michael wanted to tell her he could explain everything. But, of course, he couldn't explain a thing. He was naked except for red satin panties and a pair of cute red open-toed pumps with little bows on each instep. His body was completely smooth, his nails were painted, and his cock bulged obscenely inside the cool material of his panties, the pink head actually poking out above the waistband.

"What is the meaning of this?" Christine demanded, having somewhat recovered from her initial shock. "Michael , what's going on here?"

She was wearing a smart navy blue business suit with matching pumps. Her long dark hair was pulled back from a small, delicate face with a creamy smooth complexion and just a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her tiny nose. That pretty face now looked extremely angry.

Michael tried hard to speak, to tell Christine the truth, but all he could do was stutter incoherently.

"Michael, I want an explanation right now.

"Please don't frighten him," Kathleen said. "It was very difficult for him to admit his desires but its what he needed. He never felt you could accept him for what he was. He came to me with his little secret."

"What in god's name is she talking about, Michael? Is this true?"

"He likes to be called Mona now," Kathleen said. "Isn't that a cute name? I think its suits him, don't you?"

Michael knew there was something wrong with what Kathleen had said, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out exactly what it was. He wasn't completely sure why he was dressed the way he was, but, on the other hand, he didn't understand why it was wrong, or why Christine was making so big a deal out of it. It felt okay to be like this; in a way it felt perfectly right.

But Christine's reaction was making him feel very uncertain. He opened his mouth to say that none of this was his idea and the he really didn't want to be here but something stopped him. He did want to be here, didn't he? This was his idea. No. No, that wasn't quite it. He couldn't find the words. He was so confused and frustrated. What did these women want from him? Michael could feel the tears spilling down his cheeks.

"Michael, answer me. Stop crying for crissakes. Is this what you want?"

Kathleen watched Michael and his wife with great interest. Michael was trying not to cry anymore but he wasn't having much success. His smooth white shoulders were shaking and his bottom lip was trembling. Kathleen thought how pretty his mouth would look with lipstick. The next time she put him under she would have to instill in him a love for making up his face.

"Can't you tell he likes himself like this?" Kathleen said.

Michael's wife kept her eyes on her husband but directed her question to Kathleen.

"What have you done to him?"

"I've just allowed him to be what he is. Haven't I darling?"

Michael found himself nodding "yes."

"This is absurd," Christine said, impatiently. "Come on Michael. Let's go."

"If you don't mind me saying so, you can be a little intolerant. I'm afraid he doesn't want to go anywhere. Michael loves wearing panties and heels, don't you?"

"Yes," Michael said.

"And he thinks his little toes look so pretty painted like that. Isn't that right, love?"

"Yes."

"Michael," Christine said, hardly believing what she was seeing or hearing. "I'm going to give you one last chance. Are you coming with me or not?"

Michael could feel the tears rolling down his cheeks once again. This time he didn't try to stop them and Christine didn't ask him to. Not that he could have anyway. Michael knew that what he was about to say was going to cost him his marriage, his job, his entire life. But he couldn't stop the words from coming. He wasn't sure if what he said next was true or not. He wasn't even sure what made him say it. He only knew that he had to say what he said next no matter what.

"I like the way I look wearing heels and panties. I think my toes look so pretty painted."

His wife was shaking her head in disbelief but Michael didn't stop.

"I like being called Mona. I want—I want to be a girl," he heard himself say.

"Fine," Christine said. "I give up. I hope you're happy." She turned to Kathleen. "I hope you're both happy. You're welcome to the little faggot."

"I'm so proud of you Mona," Kathleen said, the moment the door slammed behind his wife. She put her arms around the bare shoulders of her weeping sissy. "Come on honey, it'll be okay. Let's share a pint of chocolate Haagen Daz and I'll take you shopping at Sak's. You can continue your diet tomorrow. Okay?"

Michael sniffed and nodded.

"That's a good girl," Kathleen said. "Everything's going to be fine from now on. You'll see. You just leave everything up to me."

***

"Do you...do you like my hair like this?"

It was a month after the confrontation with his wife and Michael was running a hand through the body wave of his long henna-colored hair. It was an unconscious and totally feminine gesture that Michael had developed quite on his own. Kathleen knew it was important to reinforce his positive self-image. She was aware of how he appeared to himself: the lush curls framing his delicate face, large silver hoops dangling from his ears.

"It's beautiful darling," Kathleen said and smiled. "But what I think I like best of all is the way you fill out the top of your dress. I wish I had breasts that size."

Oh, god, no you don't, Michael wanted to say, but he didn't want to seem ungrateful. The breasts Kathleen had given him were just too large. They nearly spilled out the low-cut top of his dress and nearly everything else that he wore. It had taken a lot of time to get used to them. They always seemed to be in the way somehow and the strange weight of them kind of threw off his center of gravity. Somewhere, in the dim recesses of what was left of his mind, Michael remembered thinking of large breasts as a positive thing. But now, for the life of him, he couldn't remember why. They were just so inconvenient and they made him feel so conspicuous. The way men stared at them...it wasn't sexy at all. It was just embarrassing and demeaning!

Of course, the high-heels that he always wore didn't help his balance either, or the troublesome extra layers of fat that now softened and rounded out his upper thighs and buttocks. But somehow he couldn't give up the high-heels no matter how uncomfortable they were and he couldn't lose the weight no matter how much he dieted.

He had always been considered a thin person; at least it had seemed that way to him. It was almost impossible for him to believe now when life was a constant struggle with his weight. Had he been mistaken all that time? How he longed for those days again! Kathleen tried to tell him he wasn't fat but he could tell that she was just being nice.

No matter what she said Michael was always extremely self-conscious of how tightly his dresses fit over his ass and the way his bangled wrists brushed his thighs and the way he was kind of forced to rock his hips when he walked.

Looking at her feminized ex-lover, Kathleen knew there was only one thing left to do to complete his transformation. There was only one way to punish Michael for what he had done and to make sure that she never lost him to another woman. It might seem cruel, but Kathleen knew that it was both inevitable and necessary. Michael would be happier this way, whether he would have thought so or not. Kathleen was convinced of that. He already seemed so much happier, so much calmer, so much more at ease. Kathleen knew she could make him happy. She had known that from the start. Too bad he couldn't have seen it for himself.

"Do you like being a girl, Mona?"

"Yes ma'am."

"What do you like about it, sweetheart. Tell me."

Michael stiffened slightly.

"I like looking pretty," he said automatically. "I like wearing pretty things. I like my pretty painted nails and my pretty made-up face. I like my pretty hair and my pretty shoes. I like my pretty life."

Kathleen smiled tenderly. "That's very nice, Mona. And do you know why it's important to look pretty?"

Michael looked confused for a moment. He wasn't used to being asked to think for himself. His expression, Kathleen thought, was extremely cute.

"Think Mona."

Kathleen waited until the befuddled look on Michael's face turned to one of panic. This was the look she always waited for during their sessions. The look that told her that Michael had given up trying to think and that he was ready to be told what to think.

"Mona why do girls want to look pretty?"

Michael shook his head slowly, either to indicate that he didn't know, or to ward off the idea that was about to recondition his mind.

"Go deeper, Mona. Go deeper."

Michael's body relaxed and the panic left his face to be replaced by a totally blank look. He was ready to receive her suggestion.

"Mona, girls look pretty to attract boys. You are a girl, Mona. You want to attract boys."

Michael nodded dully. He seemed to accept this new information with total complacency. Kathleen wanted to make sure he understood. She prompted him to reconstruct the logic, however flawed, in his own mind.

"What are you, Mona?"

"A girl."

"What do girls do?"

"Try to look pretty."

"Why do girls try to look pretty?"

Michael didn't even hesitate.

"Boys," he said simply.

Kathleen was delighted. This was working out even better than she could have hoped.

"You're doing fine, Mona. Just a little more and you'll be finished. You want to be finished, don't you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Very good," Kathleen said. She knew that this last part was going to be the trickiest of all. In order for him to fully and truly accept what was to become of him, he had to come to the conclusion on his own. "Now I want you to think, Mona. This is very important."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Are you thinking?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Michael leaned a little forward on the chair, as if that might help him to understand. His hands, still folded over his bare knee, tightened slightly.

"What is it," Kathleen said very slowly, "that girls don't have?"

Michael sat still for a very long time. Kathleen stared deeply and steadily into his wide green eyes, refusing to let him avert his gaze. She saw the fear, confusion, and uncertainty there and then a slight dilation of his pupils as if to let in the truth he'd been trying to avoid. Kathleen could almost detect a small shudder in his pretty eyes at that moment, a surrender, and then a calm and peaceful softness came over her ex-lover.

"What is it, Mona?"

Michael bit his chubby bottom lip, looking shy.

"Go ahead Mona," Kathleen said softly. "It's alright."

"My penis," Michael whispered.

"Yes Mona."

Kathleen let her affirmation sink in for a moment. She wanted him to feel good about his revelation. She wanted him to fully absorb and accept this startling new information about himself. And she wanted him to be ready for what came next. Michael looked up at her. He was flushed, bright-eyed, expectant. He looked so innocent that, for a moment, Kathleen wondered if she could go through with it. Then she remembered what Michael had done to her and what he would still do if returned to his old self and she knew that there was no turning back.

"Repeat after me Mona," she said. "I am impotent."

"I am impotent," Michael said.

Kathleen felt the power of the moment. She was taking a woman's ultimate revenge on the man who had wronged her. She was castrating Michael with a slow and deliberate mercilessness. And Michael was participating. He knew what he'd done was wrong.

Deep down, he wanted to make amends. He was not a bad person. He no longer knew whether the words he heard were coming out of mouth or the mouth of his mistress. It didn't matter anymore.

"I am soft between my legs. I am a girl. I get warm and wet."

Kathleen listened to him repeat her words back. God, it was touching. She had done it; she had changed him. She felt tears in her eyes. Michael was absolutely adorable.

"I am pretty," Michael said, without any hesitation at all anymore. His voice was flat and emotionless. "I like to be pretty for boys. My penis is gone. I like making boys hard. I cannot get hard. I am soft between my legs."

What he said was no longer a revelation to him; it was a simple statement of fact.

I get warm and wet when I give pleasure. I am impotent. I am a girl. I am pretty. I give pleasure. I like making boys hard. My penis is gone..."

Kathleen continued the deep conditioning for nearly twenty minutes. She knew that one session would not be enough to effect a permanent change. She would have to repeat the procedure over and over in the weeks to come in order to complete Michael's psychological castration. But there was still one last new connection to make. For she didn't want him truly neutered.

Not even Kathleen knew herself if what she was about to do next was merciful or whether it was the ultimate in cruel revenge. She was going to allow Michael to experience sexual pleasure, but in a way that, in his former life, he would have rather been castrated than experience.

"Mona darling, I want you to show me your panties."

Kathleen had programmed her former lover to be extremely shy and to feel an intense embarrassment over any kind of exhibitionism. Still he could not refuse her command. Kathleen enjoyed the conflicting emotions that played across his face as Michael picked up the edge of his dress. With his daintily painted fingers, he pulled the hem up over his smooth thighs and revealed his green silk panties.

"Open your legs, Mona."

Unable to disobey, he complied. Kathleen was pleased to note that there was no bulge in his panties and virtually no sign of his genitals whatsoever, in spite of the fact that she had reinforced his conditioning to be sexually aroused while wearing women's clothes. If she didn't know better, Kathleen could almost believe the hypnotic suggestion she had give him and that Michael didn't have a penis.

"Very good Mona. Now I want you to slip your hand inside your panties..."

Still holding his dress up with one hand, Michael reluctantly slid the other beneath the waistband of his panties.

"...and I want you to masturbate yourself for me."

Michael closed his eyes in shame but he could not stop himself. He began stroking himself with a slow circular motion more appropriate for clitoral stimulation than for a man with a dick. Kathleen hadn't taught him that. It must have been something he'd seen or read about the way women masturbated. Believing now that he had no penis, it must have seemed to be the logical way to stimulate himself. Kathleen couldn't help but feel that this was all working out even better than she could have planned.

"Very good Mona. I want you to come for me."

He had pulled his panties down low enough in front that Kathleen could see his hopelessly limp penis as he rubbed it with silver-painted fingers. It was useless—both his organ and his efforts. There was no way Michael could get hard. His penis looked like little more than a loose hood of flesh; his balls were shrunken back into his pelvic floor. Kathleen had never seen a full-grown man so small.

"Pull your dress way up, Mona. That's it. Now let it go and use your hand to take out your breast."

With the dress hiked up around his waist, Michael was fully exposed. He reached inside the scooped neck of the jersey dress and slipped out his right breast.

"Play with your nipple, Mona. That might help."

Of course, Kathleen knew that it wouldn't. As Michael rolled and squeezed his hard little nipple, there was no change in his penis. It remained totally flaccid. Michael bit his lip and his brow knit. He was trying very hard but nothing was happening.

"What's the matter Mona? I told you to come. Are you disobeying me?"

Michael's eyes opened, wide and terrified.

Kathleen knew she had put him in an impossible situation. He was programmed not to disobey her and yet she had given him an order it was impossible to obey. She could see the tears filling his green eyes. He looked so pitiful sitting there with his dress hiked up, his legs spread, unable to give himself pleasure. He still had one hand inside his panties, the other on his breast.

"You can't come, can you?"

Michael sadly shook his head "no." She could read the frustration and confusion on his face. He had never had this trouble before.

"Poor baby. Do you need help?"

Michael looked down, blushing.

Would you like me to show you how to come?"

Michael nodded.

"Look at me, Mona."

Michael looked up slowly. His eyes, which seemed to want to look anywhere but at her face, were slowly drawn to hers.

"Say it Mona. Ask me."

Michael felt the words being slowly drawn from deep inside him.

"Please—ma'am-help me—come..."

Kathleen truly did feel sorry for him. She also felt incredibly turned on. To have this much control over Michael, this man who had hurt her so badly, it was more than she could ever have imagined....

"I am going to help you, Mona. I am going to show you how to come. But you must trust me. You do trust me, don't you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. You will do whatever I say. You will do it without question. I know what is best for you. This is the only way you will ever be able to come. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

Michael looked so eager, so ready, so willing.

"Mona, I want you to touch yourself as you were doing and I want you to repeat after me..."

"I need a penis inside me."

Michael said it without the least hesitation. There was a slight look of alarm on his face, but Kathleen pressed on before what was left of his thinking faculties could be brought to bear. Michael passively said the words he heard coming from deep within his own mind.

If he could reason, he would have been stunned at the content of his thoughts, but he would have had to conclude they were his own deeply-buried fantasies. Kathleen could not be doing this to him if it was not, on some basic level, what he really wanted after all. But Michael didn't have these thoughts. He didn't have any thoughts at all. He was aware only of the intensely pleasurable feelings finally rising in waves from his pantied crotch and completely flooding his awareness. It was all Kathleen wanted him to be aware of; it was all that it was necessary for him to be aware of.

"I need a long hard penis inside my plump bottom," Michael said, panting, rubbing his soft little penis. The intensity of his arousal overcame his inhibitions. "I want to feel it buried deep inside me. I want to feel it stretch my asshole. I want to feel it thrusting in and out of me. I want to be filled up with cock. I am so empty. Please fuck my plump bottom."

Michael quickened the circular movements of his feminized hand and spread his knees obscenely wide, affording a full and rather immodest view of his crotch. His penis still didn't get hard but Kathleen could see a dark green wet spot forming on the front of his satin panties. His eyes were shut tightly and he was having difficulty talking as his breath was coming in short little gasps.

The brain was the most powerful sexual organ and Kathleen knew that Michael's body was reacting as if he really were being fucked by a long hard cock. She could hardly keep her own sexual excitement under control. She was fucking him just as effectively as if she had a cock of her own. It was the most intensely erotic encounter of her life.

"Oh god, yes," Michael moaned. "Please fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me."

His fingers were shiny with the cum leaking from his flaccid member. One hand was squeezing his breast and his head was thrown back in ecstasy. His dress was pulled all the way up and his pantied bottom was squeezing its imaginary cock. Inside his sandals, Michael's painted toes scrunched up in anticipation of the orgasm that would change him forever.

Kathleen had done it. She watched as Michael's eyes snapped open and he himself said the words that completed his total emasculation. The hot semen gushed inside him, jet after jet, spurting at the end of each long painful/pleasurable thrust of the hard cock buried deep inside his ass. His own orgasm came simultaneously, of course, forming a new associative imprint in his mind.

Now Michael would forever associate his orgasm with the idea of being anally penetrated. His orgasm was different from any other that he had ever experienced. It would be the only kind of orgasm he would ever experience in the future. It didn't come all at once; it just seemed to spread over him. It seemed to have no real beginning and no definite end.

He felt he could do it again. And again. And again. His panties were soaked. He rubbed himself slowly and lazily, basking in the pleasurable afterglow. With a curious and innocent sensuality, Michael brought his sticky fingers to his mouth and tasted them. He didn't make the connection that it was semen that he was contentedly sucking from his fingertips or that he was being further conditioned to crave the taste of this stuff from the cocks of other men. He only knew that it tasted yummy and it made him feel sexy and he wanted more.

Kathleen gazed fondly and sadly at the hopelessly wanton and indolent sensual creature she had created. He was laying back on the sofa, one hand still in his panties, the fingers of his other hand in his mouth.

"You're finished Mona," she said, using his real name for the last time. He stopped sucking his fingers for a moment and looked at her. There was just the slightest shock of recognition in his green eyes.

And then it died without a protest.

From here on out Michael was no longer.

There was only Mona.

********************************************

Ten months later they were all having lunch together at a small outdoor café in uptown Manhattan. During that time, as the divorce proceedings were underway, Kathleen had managed to establish a friendship with Michael's soon-to-be-ex-wife.

It wasn't easy and it took some convincing, but eventually Christine came to realize that Kathleen really wasn't the enemy and that she hadn't stolen Michael away from her. Her husband had, apparently, been harboring some very powerful and deeply felt sexual needs that Christine hadn't supported, nor, if she were honest with herself, could ever have tolerated if she had known.

It was best this way. In the long run, Michael would be happier—and so would she. They had signed the divorce settlement that morning and it was time they all moved on with their new lives.

Christine looked across the table at the man—it was so hard to call him that anymore—who used to be her husband with a certain fondness and nostalgia. It had been a little strange at first to see him in his new role, but the transformation was so complete, that it eventually came to seem perfectly natural. She had even gotten used to calling him 'Mona," which seemed to make him unusually happy and content.

Christine would miss him in a way. Of course, she no longer had any sexual feelings for Michael. How could she? He had cried at the courthouse when he signed the papers. Christine had never known him to be the sentimental type. But then again, the poor dear had been through so many changes in the last year or so.

Michael was still dressed in the outfit he'd worn to court: a simple but sexy red halter suit with a sleeveless buttoned top and a modest knee-length skirt. On his feet were a pair of red high-heeled sandals with a pair of crisscross straps across his insteps. His toenails were painted with clear lacquer. His longish hair, permed and highlighted, was pulled and clipped in a kind of makeshift up-do, loose tendrils escaping fetchingly at the side of his face.

Every once in a while Michael pushed the hair away with a feminine gesture that caused the gold bracelets on his slender and tanned left arm to jangle. Christine noted that his wedding ring had been replaced by a tiny gold sweetheart ring. He was only lightly made-up, just a little bit of eye makeup, enough to bring out his pretty green eyes and a light coat of lip red gloss. Lip liner accentuated his soft, sexy mouth. His hand, the perfectly manicured nails painted with clear lacquer to match his toes, daintily held the fork with which he ate his tossed salad. Kathleen had ordered it for him with the lite french dressing on the side and a Pepsi One.

When Michael excused himself to go to the "powder room", Christine watched him make his way passed the tables, wrists brushing his hips, which rocked gently side to side. She turned back to Kathleen.

"Does he know?"

"That he isn't a woman? No."

"But the way he walks..."

"He thinks he has 36 inch hips," Kathleen said. "As well as 38DD breasts."

"You mean?"

Kathleen nodded. "When he looks in the mirror he doesn't see what we see. He sees a sexy, over-developed young woman, not a man in drag."

"Unbelievable."

"Do you remember how obsessed he was with skinny women?"

"Do I," Christine said somewhat bitterly.

"Well you might get a kick out of this. He thinks he's overweight."

Christine looked astonished. "You're kidding. He's flesh and bones."

"He's certain that he has at least twenty pounds to lose. That's why I ordered him a salad. You'll notice that he didn't even touch his wine, except for a little token sip when I made that toast at the beginning of lunch. Do you know where he's going now?"

"To the powder room," Christine said with a smirk.

"Yes," Kathleen said. "He's going there to throw up. I'm afraid Michael is a touch bulimic."

"How adorable." Christine remembered the snide comments Michael used to make about women with eating disorders, including her sister. It serves him right, she thought, and then felt a twinge of old concern for the man she'd shared so much of her life with. "But isn't that dangerous?"

"It can be. I'll cure him of it when I think he's learned his lesson."

Both women laughed.

But the lisp..." Christine said. "How?"

"That was the easiest of all. Same with the feminine mannerisms. Just a little post-hypnotic suggestion."

Christine took a sip of her wine. There was one last thing she needed to know. "So, what will become of him?"

"He'll become the woman he already believes himself to be," Kathleen said triumphantly, happy to be able to tell her talk about her master plan for Michael with someone who would appreciate it. "I've already begun his hormone therapy and laser electrolysis. I'll have some hair extensions put on until the hormones kick in and he can grow his own.

Then will come his breast implants and some cosmetic surgery to his face. Body reshaping will give him the figure he thinks he has now. Finally, I'll have him castrated and give him a vagina so that he can live as a woman full time. As it is, he can't function as a man anymore. To make him live with useless male parts is just cruel."

Christine had to agree.

Months ago, Kathleen had proven to her what she said about Michael's impotence. She had ordered Michael to put on a demonstration for his soon-to-be-ex-wife. Wearing a little black exercise leotard, Michael had slowly unsnapped the material over his crotch with shy painted fingers. Christine watched in amazement as her spouse slipped a large, realistic dildo into his asshole and slowly fucked himself with it as he used his other hand to alternately rub his stiff pink nipples and soft little penis.

Finally, he came, but not like he used to come, quickly and furiously, with aggressive spasms and explosive ejaculations. Instead he came with simpering little moans, his poor asshole clenching around the dildo, his painted fingers pinching his nipples, and then slipping down over his smooth belly to his little penis, which never got hard, but merely oozed a clear, sticky fluid. His orgasm, while not intense, seemed to last quite a long time. Perhaps, most amazing of all, was the way Michael licked his wet fingers clean after he came.

Christine wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't seen it for herself. Having witnessed Michael's impotence went a long way to making the friendship between her and her husband's former mistress possible. Now that Christine was certain that Michael couldn't have sex with Kathleen, she no longer felt betrayed, nor was her pride hurt any longer.

She didn't see Kathleen as a sexual rival anymore. Kathleen was simply someone who was willing to love Michael for what he was. And, seeing what her ex-husband had become since their separation and learning how much further he was going to go, that was something Christine was not prepared to do. She wanted a man...not whoever...or whatever...Michael had turned out to be.

"Well, I guess that's it then," Christine said, taking out her purse and laying a twenty dollar bill on the table. "Tell me, though. Are you going to stay with him through all this?"

"Yes, of course. I mean, there will come a time that I'll need something more from a relationship than he can give. But he will always have a place in my life."

Christine stood up. "I don't think I'll wait for him to get back. It'll be easier for him this way. He's had enough goodbyes for a while, I think."

"Please stay for just a moment," Kathleen said.

"But I-" Christine let the thought trail off. She knit her brows together, looking confused, and then a quizzical smile formed on her pretty face. "What was I saying...?"

Kathleen was picturing what she'd look like in a leather corset and collar. She would make a wonderful fetish pain-slut with a few creative modifications. And Kathleen knew just what one's Christine would most appreciate. After all, Christine had shared quite a few of her sexual fantasies with Kathleen over the last few months. Christine hadn't the slightest clue. She had only come to hypnotherapy to help her lose weight. Oh, she had lost weight all right. She had already lost her husband. She was about to lose much more.

Kathleen smiled. She had such big plans for the two of them.

"Sit down Christine," she said. "We have to talk."

-end—

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