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The Guinea Pig part 3
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
The Guinea Pig -- Part 3
by Ruth White
******
"But why would I ever want to wear make-up in the first
place?" thought Joe.
By the end of the day Joe could arrange his hair in any number
of fashions; from a tight bun to adorable little ringlets.
Joe woke up groggy the next morning. He stumbled into the
bathroom and splashed water on his face. There was now a mirror over
the sink. It shocked him to see his face, first thing in the morning,
all made up as if he had just left a beauty salon.
"I guess I'll have to live with it for awhile," he thought. "I
know tattoos can be removed or covered up. I'll get rid of this face
once I'm home."
Joe opened the closet and looked at the vast array of dresses
there wondering which one he might be dressed in today. He got turned
on thinking about the clothing. Going to the bathroom he sat on the
toilet and massaged his breasts until his cock was hard. Now when he
masturbated he used his right hand and beat off into his left.
After he had come, he consumed the semen in his hand, savoring
every drop.
"Surprise Joe!" said Monica. "You get to go to the beach
today. You need some color."
Instead of a dress Monica put Joe in a swimsuit. It was a very
revealing one-piece made of spandex. The strapless suit was black,
except for the elasticized top which was white with a big bow over his
bust. Naturally, everything was revealed, including his male organs.
Joe was given a white cotton cover-up, some sandals, and a
gold chain was locked around his neck. "Sorry about the sandals Joe,
but they're all I can find for the beach. Don't try to remove that
chain, it's a locating device in case you get lost. Don't even think
about trying to run away. Dr. van Damme owns the whole island, there's
nothing else close, and no way off it . Parts of the island can be
very dangerous, and you can't go very far or very fast with your
feet."
Joe was turned over to Betsy who took him to a lovely secluded
beach, put lotion and sunscreen on him, and saw to it that he tanned
properly.
After several days of this, Joe looked like a bronze goddess.
Joe considered his dressing as a woman. It didn't seem to
bother him at all any more. In fact, as he would admit only to
himself, he got a kick out of it. While his physical development had
been, for the most part, gradual allowing him to acclimate himself to
the changes in his body, he had been abruptly thrown into the world of
women's fashion which was totally alien to him.
Some of it took some getting used to, especially bras and
hosiery. If he wasn't at the beach or sleeping, Joe was wearing a bra
and either stockings or panty-hose. Joe hadn't as yet been able to
accept as normal, the wearing of stockings. He was mesmerized by the
appearance of his shapely legs in shimmering nylon. Not only that, but
whenever he wore hose, which was most of the time, the feeling of his
hairless legs in their delightful embrace drove him to distraction.
Added to which, were the exquisite sensations he received as the
delicate fabrics of his apparel massaged his legs through his ultra-
sheer hosiery.
Joe had always thought that a bra was a bra, not knowing of
the vast assortment available to women for different purposes;
bandeaus, underwires, long-lines, front-hook, back-hook, natural cup,
strapless, and more. Joe was learning quickly though; he wore them
all. The one bra that Joe just couldn't get comfortable in was the
demi-bra, this infernal design just held his jugs out but didn't cover
the nipples at all. Five minutes in a demi-bra under a slip, blouse,
or dress and Joe's nipples would be rock hard and his cock ready to
pop.
Joe had gone through a hard enough time getting accustomed to
having tits, but now he was kept constantly aware of their presence on
his chest by the firm pressure of the well-stuffed brassieres he wore.
It had become unnerving to go without one, as he did now.
One of Joe's questions had been answered for him as, piece by
piece, he was dressed through the contents of his new wardrobe. Yes,
everything they gave him to wear fit just like his first outfits did.
Every single bit of clothing was tight, sheer, revealing, and
sensuous; designed to put on display the feminine qualities which Joe
now possessed in abundance.
There wasn't anything that could even be considered normal day
wear. Not only that, but lately Monica and Betsy had been treating him
like a mannequin, entertaining themselves by dressing him in whatever
fashions caught their fancy.
Take this morning for instance; Joe was very self-conscious,
knowing he was dressed inappropriately for breakfast, let alone
cafeteria dining, but this was how Monica had bedecked him this
morning. He had been poured into a strapless, long, black velvet,
evening gown. Having been given no bra, his enormous breasts jiggled
with every step, seeming as if they would leap out of the gown's
embrace at any moment. Black satin pumps, along with shapely legs and
thighs clad in filmy black panty-hose, revealed themselves, snaking
out through excessively high slits in his skirt. Joe's hair had been
brushed out straight and styled so that it fanned out over his back,
covering his shoulders like a yellow cape. Long elaborate rhinestone
earrings dangled from his ears matching the sparkling necklace and
bracelets that he wore. As Joe ate his low-fat cottage cheese, he
thought, "I should be in a whiskey advertisement."
Joe found this funny for some reason. Giggling, he spilled
some cottage cheese onto the bare top of his breast. He tried to wipe
it up discreetly, but every male eye in the room was glued to him, Dr.
van Damme's instructions notwithstanding.
CHAPTER
17
Monica entered Joe's room with her gear and looked at the
sleeping man. Lifting the satin coverlet from his body, she paused to
watch the rise and fall of his breasts under his satin and lace
negligee as he breathed. The drug in his dinner had worked well.
Continuing with her task, Monica pulled the hem of his negligee up
over his hips. The only natural hair left on his body was a triangle
of silky pubic hair. Monica lathered it up and began shaving it off.
Joe woke up muddled the next morning and tried to get up.
"Joe, get back in bed," said Monica. "And lie on your
stomach."
Joe did as directed, but wasn't very comfortable; his breasts
didn't make very good pillows. Monica flipped Joe's negligee up to
reveal the soft globes of his ass cheeks. Placing her hand in the
small of his back to hold him still, she injected the contents of a
needle into one. Joe felt a sting as the needle slipped into his right
buttock. "What's that for?" he asked Monica.
"Don't worry about it. Just turn over and lie back."
Monica left the room. When she returned, with two attendants
pushing a gurney, Joe was out like a light. She watched the gorgeous
man as the negligee was striped from his lush body, which was then
transferred to the gurney. Joe was wheeled out of his room, and into a
new life.
CHAPTER
18
Joe was dreaming. He was chasing a pretty blonde girl. She was
a knockout and he wanted her. He wanted her so badly that his balls
itched, and his cock was so hard it hurt. Then it dawned on him; the
girl he was chasing was himself, as he looked now.
Joe woke up. He was very dizzy, but able to comprehend that he
was in his room. He didn't notice the lack of sensation below his
waist. Dr. van Damme, Monica, and another doctor were at his bedside.
Joe giggled. "Hi guys. What's going on."
The doctor shot a needle into the IV drip in Joe's arm. Joe
started to fade. "Hey Monica, you're looking great. Say my balls ache,
would you rub them for me?" Then he was gone.
Monica looked at the doctor curiously. "How could he?"
The Doctor answered her. "The same way some amputees get
cramps in the calves of legs that aren't there anymore."
CHAPTER
19
Joe gradually returned to consciousness. Trying to check
himself out, he discovered his restraints. "What has that crazy bitch
done to me now?" he thought.
What was there left to do to him? "No. Monica said the Doctor
wouldn't do that," he recalled.
Dr. van Damme, the surgeon, and Monica entered his room,
alerted to his awakening by the monitors. "Don't try to move Joe,"
said Dr. van Damme. "You've been given a spinal block and can't feel
below the waist. You might hurt something by moving around with no
sensation."
"So what bunch of suffering human beings am I helping today?"
Joe asked her cynically.
"I'm happy to tell you Joe, that you represent new hope for
thousands of transsexuals."
"WHAT?"
"Well, since you asked. Many men aren't men at all, but rather
a woman's psyche in a man's body. Their only possibility of happiness
is sex reassignment surgery; what you'd call it a sex change. The
problem is that the state of the art of surgery today results in more
mutilation than change. The post-operative transsexual is usually left
with a pathetic imitation of a vagina. I'm happy to tell you that the
surgical procedure we have developed, and tested on you, was totally
successful in the construction of fully functional female sex organs."
Joe was shrieking and in shock.
After several minutes he looked up, still wailing. "But
Monica, you said ... "
"I told you that you could keep your precious little balls you
foolish boy, and I didn't lie to you."
Monica held up a mirror so Joe could see his face. Brushing
his hair back from his ears she pointed at two diminutive gold globes,
one of which adorned each earlobe.
Joe sobbed in his pillow.
Later on, having cried himself out, the giddy man addressed
Dr. van Damme. "So you did it. You've changed me into a woman."
"Not really Joe. Let's examine your situation. You have the
beauty, the figure, and now even the secondary sex characteristics of
a woman. You may, over time, even acquire the needs and desires of a
woman, but you are and shall always be a man since you lack what truly
makes a woman female; a womb and ovaries. However, you also lack what
makes a man male; a penis and testicles. Now a woman is the equal of a
man, but since you are something less than a man, it follows that you
must be less than a woman. Don't you ever forget that you are an
imitation, a plaything created in retribution for the way you lived
your life. You're gorgeous, you're sexy, but basically Joe, you're
only a eunuch." On that note she left with the surgeon.
In the hall outside, the surgeon asked her. "Why were you so
severe with him? He's been through a lot. His vagina cannot be
distinguished from that of a genetic female and I did a superb job on
the plumbing. Why any gynecologist who examined him would testify in
court that he is a woman who has suffered from cancer and been given a
hysterectomy ."
Dr. van Damme answered him. "Doctor there's more going on here
than meets the eye. Part of what we are doing to Joe is punishing him.
Dave Weinstein's earlier experiments have shown us that a man who is
feminized unwillingly can eventually find refuge in his femininity.
Dave tells me that this approach we're using on Joe will establish in
him a streak of rebellion which will prevent that from occurring. He
will cling to the fact that he is a man, even though he could never
convince anyone of that fact."
They walked on.
Later, in his bed, Joe thought to himself. "They may give me a
woman's body, but I'm still Joe Watson. My body may betray me, but my
mind won't. I will not let it. I'm Joe Watson and I'm a man, and no
matter what they do to me, I'll always remember that in my brain,
where it counts. They'll never conquer my spirit."
CHAPTER
20
Joe lay in his bed. He had lost count of the days and weeks as
he watched the world go by through the fog of drugs and, after the
spinal block had worn off, pain.
With the passage of time, his body recuperated and this
morning the doctor had removed the last bandages shielding his
operation, pronounced him fully healed, and extracted the catheter.
It felt very peculiar to Joe, to have his insides probed and
scrutinized like that.
Joe refused to look at himself, and tried to ignore his
metamorphosis. Then the inevitable happened; he had to go to the
bathroom. He tried to ignore his bladder, but couldn't for long.
Reluctantly, he got out of bed, thankful for the long satin nightgown,
which covered him from neck to ankles.
In the bathroom, Joe frowned at the toilet. "I guess I'd
better get used to this."
Raising the back of his gown, Joe lowered his abundant ass
onto the seat. "At least those muscles haven't changed," Joe thought
as he urinated. Joe enjoyed the relief pissing brought and when he was
done stood up. letting his gown fall only to feel wetness on his
thighs as urine ran down them.
"Cripes!"
Joe gathered up his gown and sat down again. He'd forgotten
that girls had to wipe. Even though he wasn't a girl, he still pissed
like one and had to copy their hygienic techniques. He bunched up some
toilet paper and, looking away, stuck his hand down and dabbed. When
he was satisfied that he was dry, he got up and returned to bed.
Outside his room, Dave Weinstein spoke to Monica.
"I am certain that Joe is depressed, resentful, and hostile
over the removal of his genitals. I think we should give him some
Valium, then why don't you get him dressed as we discussed and see if
we can get his transvestite programming to take control of his
emotions.
Monica entered the room.
"Up and at 'em Joe."
Joe just glared at her.
"Joseph Watson! You get out of that bed right now and take
this medicine, before I call Dr. van Damme and have you punished."
Joe complied, and after he had swallowed the Valium, Monica
sat him down and went to work on his hair to kill time until the
medication calmed him. Monica rolled Joe's hair up in curlers and put
lotion on it to keep the curls in. When she was done, Monica pulled
Joe's gown off. He instinctively brought his hands up over his
breasts. Monica snickered at this. "Oh come on Joe. There's no secrets
between friends, right? Here hold these."
Joe held up what looked like a pair of stockings, but they
were different. Holding them up, he recognized them as fishnet hose.
He hadn't seen them on a woman in years, except in some of his men's
magazines. Part of his mind considered what he would look like in
them. Not counting on Joe's cooperation, Monica put a garter belt
around his waist and hooked it in back. After sitting him down, she
rapidly rolled the hose up each leg. Standing Joe up, Monica hooked up
the hose and tightened the suspenders. She noticed that he wouldn't
look down. Sitting him down again, Monica slipped shoes on his feet;
red patent leather open-toed sandals with ankle straps and five inch
heels. She noticed how his red toenails peeked out through the mesh of
his stockings. "Sexy," she thought as she buckled the straps tight.
Monica brought out a pair of French-cut black satin and lace
panties. She put them on over Joe's shoes then, standing him up,
pulled them slowly up his legs. Joe perceived a new sensation as
Monica pulled the panties up over his hips, a slight pressure on his
genital area that he 'd never experienced before.
All of a sudden Joe wanted to see what he looked like. He
walked over to the mirror. "Boy don't my legs look great?" Joe asked
himself.
Joe still resented the loss of his cock and balls, but the
drug had taken effect and besides, part of him liked the fact that his
panties fit properly now; with no protrusion or bulges from his cock
or balls. Joe could see his pubic hair, which had regrown, through the
lace, which ended at a satin panel which was flush against his crotch.
Beneath the taut material Joe could see the outline of his new vulva.
The transvestite in him was elated. Isn't this the ultimate in cross-
dressing? Joe felt his nipples tingle.
"Where's my bra?" he asked Monica.
"We're going to try something different today. Just wait."
Monica had Joe step into a skirt and she worked it up over his hips.
It was a black kidskin miniskirt and was it ever tight. Not knowing
that the clothes were designed to fit like that, Joe thought. "I've
got to lose some weight."
Joe looked at his profile. No outline of his cock showed, just
the feminine swell of his pelvis under the skirt. Monica held up a
strip of red leather and wrapped it around Joe's chest. "What's that?"
he asked.
"It's a bustier. Don't worry it will support you."
Monica pulled it together and fastened it. Joe's breasts were
tightly confined in its firm grip and he could tell that it would
support them, but looking down he discovered that it sure as hell
didn't cover them. It just squashed his breasts together and offered
them up for public inspection.
Monica wrapped a white patent leather belt around his waist
and gave him a matching purse. Taking an atomizer, she sprayed Joe
with perfume; behind his knees, between his breasts, on his neck and
shoulders. Joe was enveloped in an intoxicating fragrance. Monica put
the bottle in his bag, then removed the curlers from his hair. Lifting
Joe's golden curls, she placed a fine gold chain around his neck.
Attached to it was a locket which settled in his cleavage. Joe picked
it out. "I wonder what this is?" he thought.
Joe found a tiny latch and managed to open it. Inside was a
picture of himself; before any of the changes. Joe just stared at it,
surprised that he wasn't annoyed at this final humiliation. The drug
had kicked in Joe was not in control of his emotions. Rather than
anger or hate, some other passion built."I wasn't a bad looking hunk,"
thought Joe as Monica brushed out his hair.
Joe didn't know it but he was getting turned on by his own
picture. His nipples stiffened and then he felt a well-known commotion
in his crotch. He was getting a hard on."Is it possible?" Joe
wondered. "Maybe my cock isn't gone, just hidden."
Joe resolved to check it out at the first opportunity, as he
shut the locket and returned it to the valley between his boobs.
Monica put some dangling gold earrings in his multiple-pierced ears
and gave him a gold link bracelet and a huge aquamarine ring.
Slipping the ring on his right ring-finger, Monica told him, "Remember
this Joe, aquamarine is your new birth-stone."
"What do you mean?"
"Well you're a new man, so to speak, so we'll use the day you
were made to celebrate your birthday from now on."
Joe followed Monica, finding it was much easier to walk
without his balls being pinched all the time. He liked the feel of
leather on his skin, the way his hair bounced when he walked and
brushed against his shoulders and back, and especially he liked the
perfume he wore. Joe knew he must look pretty sexy and he felt sexy,
but it never occurred to him, that he looked for all the world, like a
very beautiful, very high-priced call girl. As he sashayed down the
hall; breasts bouncing and hips and ass swaying with every mincing
step he took.
CHAPTER
21
Joe ate breakfast with Monica and, having nothing to do,
followed her around all morning. As time wore on, Joe became more
accustomed to the clothes he wore, and at ease with his new
appearance. He was unaware that every man who laid eyes on him lusted
after him.
When Joe had followed Monica into her office and taken a seat,
she realized what had been bothering her about him. Except when his
body and dress required that he move otherwise, Joe still sat and, in
some situations, moved like a man. Right now he sat with his legs
apart. Monica could see his garters at the tops of his stockings and
glancing up, she could make out his vagina in it's satin embrace.
"He's got learn not to flash that pussy of his around so
conspicuously." She thought. "Oh well, I'll tell Dr. van Damme and she
can put Mrs. Maxwell on it."
Later, Monica took Joe to lunch where he was given a tuna
salad, despite his preference for roast beef. After they had eaten,
Monica told him. "I always take a little nap after lunch. Why don't
you try it?"
"Maybe I will. I still feel very worn out."
Monica and the attendants found him on the bed with a fashion
magazine open in his lap; the hypnotic in the iced tea had worked to
perfection. Joe was wheeled to the operating theater where his belt,
bustier, skirt, and panties were removed. After his inert form was
laid out on a table, his legs were spread apart, and his feet placed
in stirrups as if for a pelvic exam.
The plastic surgeon who had created Joe's vagina lectured to
the audience, while a television camera zoomed in for close-ups, which
in turn, were relayed to monitors throughout the room. "There were two
very significant improvements included in the many innovations
introduced with this subject's procedure. First, I was able to
preserve the penile nerves intact and bundle them together. Secondly,
we removed some of the mucous membrane from a section of the subject's
large intestine. This was cultured, a mutation was induced, and it was
then used as the lining for the vaginal wall."
"The results versus conventional sex reassignment surgery are
vastly superior; the penile nerves retain full tactile sensation with
the ability to provide pleasure when touched, just as the penis would.
There is no danger of the vagina closing up, so we can do away with
the need to keep a form inserted. The lining, when irritated, secretes
a fluid, sort of like a runny noses, not very different from a
female's natural lubricant. nose."
The doctor pointed out the highlights for the television
camera as he went on. "Here we have the mons veneris. Here the labia
majora or outer vaginal lips, constructed from the scrotum and inside
the labia minora. This is the clitoris, formed from the foreskin
where the penile nerves were. It functions not very differently from
the way the subject's penis did; when aroused, it engorges with blood,
although the increase in size is minimal, and when stimulated can
produce the muscular contractions known as orgasm. The labia minora,
or inner vaginal lips, which were created from the leftover penile
tissue and mucous membrane."
The crowd murmured it's approval. All of the assembled doctors
admitted it was near impossible to tell Joe's man-made vagina from the
real thing.
Dave Weinstein took the stage as various devices were attached
to Joe's body; rubber molds with wires running out were put over his
breasts, the projection box was lowered over his head, a shape
resembling a large cock with a metal ring around it was carefully
inserted into his vagina, then a thin probe was forced into his anus.
Dave spoke. "You will recall Dr. Locke said that the subject's
vagina will secrete a fluid when irritated. What I hope to accomplish
is to trick the subject's mind into confusing sexual arousal with
vaginal irritation, much as Dr. Pavlov tricked his dogs."
Joe was brought up to a trance state. The device in his vagina
vibrated, irritating the lining. When the fluid was secreted it
completed an electrical circuit in the device and a green light lit on
the control console. "Excellent," said Dave. "Now we hot-wire our
little beauty's neural network for pleasure."
The cups over Joe's breasts were shaking and the plug in his
vagina vibrated, along with the probe up his ass. Inside the box, all
the images programmed into Joe's pretty head to be sexually
stimulating were flashed before him. The pleasure center in his mind
was excited by induction to the metal wires still in his skull.
This went on for some time, and at the end, tiny electrical
shocks were pulsed through Joe's breasts, vagina, and ass. Then the
plug was removed from Joe's vagina and dried completely.
After a short wait, Dave Weinstein inserted a tiny metal probe
into Joe's vagina and reset the light to red. "And now the moment of
truth."
The psychologist flicked a switch. Inside the box, images of
virile young men, naked with large erect cocks, were projected into
Joe's subconscious. Dave Weinstein speculated silently. "Would the
brain recall it's programming and find the pictures erotic? Would the
conditioning work?"
The crowd waited expectantly.
Dave started to worry.
Then the green light flashed on.
It worked. Joe was lubricating himself in response to sexual
stimulation. The audience roared it's approval. Dave Weinstein looked
down at Joe. The transfigured man was unconsciously undulating his
pelvis, the way a highly aroused woman would do.
CHAPTER
22
Joe was awakened by Monica shaking him. "Come on sleepy head.
Wake up. It's dinner time, you slept all afternoon."
Joe remembered distinctly the graphic visions he had dreamed.
He didn't want to talk, or even think, about them. Noticing that his
mini-skirt had risen up over his thighs, Joe tugged it down as he got
up on his high-heeled feet. Joe discovered that he was hungry, but was
surprised to find himself still tired. "Well they say too much sleep
is the same as not enough," he recalled, and thought no more about it.
The two lovelies went to dinner, after Joe paused to refresh
his perfume. He loved the scent. Monica laughed silently. "Boy, if
only he knew."
The boys in the lab had concocted the stuff and called it "Eau
d' Joe." It had been formulated with the sole objective of attracting
men. It contained all the scents that the masculine psyche found sexy
and alluring on a woman, and was liberally laced with female
pheromones, which not only served to inflame Joe's remaining masculine
passions, but also those of any male who might be within range of the
compelling fragrance.
After dinner, Monica took Joe to the island's theater, where
they watched a movie. Joe experienced weird emotions running through
his body. He wrote them off as being induced by the well-made
thriller. It never dawned on him, that those vivid sensations
coincided with the appearance of the movie's handsome star on the
screen.
On the way back, Monica picked up a bottle of wine. When they
got to Joe's room, she said. "Joe, go in and take a shower and get
ready for bed. I'll get a corkscrew and some glasses."
Joe showered, avoiding any contact with his remodeled gender.
His earlier interest had worn off, and he didn't want to deal with it
now. Joe dried and put on his most attractive negligee of shimmering
pink satin and lace. He loved both the way it felt, and the way it
displayed his magnificent body.
Monica returned. She had changed into a blue satin and lace
teddy covered by a matching short gown. She opened the wine and poured
to glasses handing one to Joe.
"So tell me Joe. How did you like the first day with your new
body?"
The abruptness of Monica's question caught Joe off-guard.
Joe and Monica weren't the only ones enjoying a sip of the
grape. In her office, Dr. van Damme and Dave Weinstein savored a rare
tipple as they watched the unfolding scene.
"Here's where Monica earns her pay," said Dave.
After a minute, Joe started crying. "Oh Monica. I don't know.
Part of me likes it; looking so sexy and wearing such fantastic
clothes. But inside I'm still a man. It hurts so much; every minute
that I'm in this body. It's so degrading to know that I'll never
escape from this masquerade. What can I do." By this time he was was
weeping.
"Don't cry Joe." Monica lifted up his chin and gently kissed
him on the lips."When you can't change something, accept it, and try
and make the most of it."
Monica hugged Joe until his tears subsided, then lifted the
sniffling man up and carried him to the bed. Joe hadn't known the big
girl's strength. Monica got into bed with Joe and kissed him
passionately, while easing the straps of his negligee over his
shoulders, uncovering his well-developed breasts. Monica tenderly
fondled each in turn, feeling his nipples harden.
Monica gave Joe a long-lingering kiss, examining every corner
of his mouth with her tongue. She then turned her attention to his
breasts, licking and sucking first one then the other, until both were
stiff with desire. Joe didn't know what to make of this, but he knew
that he liked it. He felt very hot between his legs and the sensation
that he was getting a hard-on was back. Joe moaned with pleasure when
Monica placed her hands under his hips and trailed her tongue down
across his belly to find the lips of his vagina moist and enlarged
with his passion.
Monica flicked her tongue over Joe's vulva then teasingly
poked it back and forth between the lips. Joe spread his legs even
wider as Monica took her hands out from under him, using her fingers
to gently stretch his cunt wider. With her tongue, Monica found Joe's
clit, which had been fashioned from the sensitive tissue of his cock
and contained the penile nerves. Seeming to recall it's previous
function, it swelled, trying to become erect. Monica took it in her
mouth and sucked and nibbled on it with her teeth.
Delirious with pleasure, Joe took his hands with their long
red nails and grabbed his breasts. Taking a nipple between each thumb
and fore-finger, he pinched them, sending even more waves of pleasure
through his body. He tried to grind his crotch against Monica's face
but she pulled away. Joe wished she'd continue eating his pussy, but
instead Monica kissed Joe on the mouth again. "Being a girl can be
enjoyable Joe."
When they broke for air, Monica whispered. "Joe dear. I have a
surprise for you. Rising on the bed she undid the belt of her gown.
Reaching down she unsnapped the crotch of her teddy and pulled it up.
Out popped an erect cock. Monica was a man!
Joe didn't know what to think of this, he was both frightened
and fascinated by it. "Monica. What? ... I don't know ... "
Pushing Joe back on the bed Monica said, "There, there Joe. I
promise I'll be gentle with you."
Joe wasn't aware of it, but his subliminal programming had
pre-disposed his masculine mind to accept the orientation of a
heterosexual female and Monica had been chosen to be the agent of
Joe's introduction to this lifestyle. Since his mind was still male
and he really lusted after the pretty blonde, her apparent femininity
would overcome any objections his masculine ego might raise.
Giving up, Joe decided to go with the flow, and he laid back
and relaxed, as Monica resumed licking his hot pussy. After a short
interval, Joe was writhing in pleasure again. Positioning herself
between Joe's legs, Monica rubbed the head of her cock against Joe's
cunt.
Joe was too far gone to care what happened now. Monica
inserted her shaft slightly between the lips of Joe's pussy, letting
his new cunt get used to penetration for the first time. When she
felt the time was right, Monica rammed the entire length of her large
cock into Joe. At this Joe took notice; letting go of his breasts and
opening his eyes to look at Monica. It dawned on him with a flash.
HE WAS BEING FUCKED.
LIKE A GIRL.
AND HE LOVED IT!
Monica began a slow piston-like movement. Joe pulled her close
to him, put his legs up over her hips, and crossed his ankles. Joe was
amazed at the sensations he felt as Monica's prick penetrated deep
inside him. He could feel every inch as it slid in and out of his hot
wet cunt. It was so intense, so exciting. He was panting now, and
making faint unintentional moaning sounds. Joe could feel Monica's
cock swell and his body was racked by spasms, accompanied by louder
moans as he experienced his first female orgasm,just as the she-male
commenced pumping her load of cum into him.
The die was cast. Joe now had a female element in his mind
that his will could not control. Never would he turn away from a
session with a stiff prick. Joe collapsed into a limp bundle and as
Monica withdrew her spent cock, he curled up; tired and worn out.
"Just like a man." Thought Monica. "After sex, all they want to do is
roll over and go to sleep. Well he'll learn a hard lesson shortly."
Joe was startled out of his daze by the awareness that
Monica's cock was pressing against his asshole. He clenched it tight,
but Monica pushed harder and the shaft, still lubricated with his
pussy juice, was finally forced past his sphincter and driven into his
lovely behind. Joe felt himself become aroused again, as the she-
male's balls slapped against his butt. It was very unconventional, but
for some reason he desired it.
Powerless as the stimulation overcame his reason, Joe put one
hand between his legs and played with his pussy. Finally, Joe orgasmed
again, then Monica did and withdrew her cock from his ass.
Dr. van Damme raised her glass in a toast. "To the new Joseph
Watson. I gave him the body of an exaggeratedly voluptuous woman,
while you provided the appetites and impulses of a horny slut."
They sipped their champagne.
"Not only that," said Dave. "But Joe cannot fathom what's
going on with his body, he cannot exert any conscious control over
it's conditioned behavior. Joe definitely won't want to be involved
all the proceedings that he will be, but as far as his body is
concerned, his conscious mind is a passive spectator, no matter how
degrading a performance it puts on. Joe is trapped in an endless loop;
his mind rebels while his body compels.
FIN
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