Themes: tg, forced feminization ------- Legend ------- *bold* _This_is_underlined_ /Italic/ -------------------- General standard generic disclaimer: If you are offended by sex, rape, men being turned in to women, sodomy or homosexuality; if reading such material is illegal in your area or you are under age, then do not read this story. General standard generic end to general standard generic disclaimer - you have been warned. "If you don't stand for something, You'll fall for anything." - A slogan I once saw on a button "Degraded Assets" By Quiet Savage Part 1 of 6 - "Pride came first - it was the light" Missy was the office's wet dream. Yes, she was kind of thick in some areas but overall she was well above average. Except for a more modern sensibility - clothing, hair style, makeup techniques - Missy was a throwback to America's glory days, not the 12 year old girl look so popular today. A real Gil Elvgren's come to life. Missy took after the greats: Marilyn Monroe, Mamie Van Doren, Jane Russell. She had a passing resemblance to Jayne Mansfield. All the right assets were her's - ample bosoms, a fat ass and a perfect beautiful face. And mentally she was just as attractive - openly flirting with her coworkers and the customers. She liked to show off her body always wearing low cut tops and tight, if conservative, skirts. And there was an odd feature that some men had noticed - right on the edge of her breast, often peeking out, was a small tattoo. Unless you stared directly at it and concentrated on reading the tiny letters you never knew exactly what it said. The tattoo read, "Slut." But for all her overly made up face, exaggerated features, provocative clothing and flirting ways Missy never wanted to cross the line to actual "slut hood." In the few months that she had been a secretary there she had never once taken up one of the many offers made to her. The men in the office had concluded that she was nothing but a cock tease who enjoyed turning them on just to leave them frustrated. What they didn't know was Missy had some secrets. First, and most notable, she had some "extra equipment" tucked away under that skirt. Second, A few short years ago she had been the male boss of this office. and, lastly, she was in love. Missy's girlfriend, Kate, was a very strange bird indeed. The age difference between the two was greater than normal. When they met Mike, Missy's former self, was only 22 while Kate was an elder 33. But was she hot! And fast! After their eyes locked at that party years ago it was only three hours flat before they were in his car doing it, and doing it hard. Kate was the architect of all he was this day. The young man was "innocent" and unprepared for anything other then a straight vanilla relationship. She had blind-sided him by giving him exactly what a young man wants - excitement, action and sex. And lots of it! Over a three-year period she had corrupted his mind and led him down the road to sissyhood. And the part Kate was most proud of? To the world, even in Missy's own mind, she had chosen to become what she was today. Kate had laid a line, a real head trip, on Mike. Mike was no ordinary boy or man. At the tender age of 16 he had entered the business world as a high school intern and he had showed such talent that by 20 he was the head of a minor, yet very profitable, corporation. He was young, ambitious and wealthy. He was, in Kate's words an "ubermensch". "Beyond Good and Evil" was the phrase she always used. Those weak useless moral guidelines that the common man followed? He was above all that. He was the yin and the yang, the embodiment of a new order, a new man for a bold new time. There was no reason for such a man to control his excess, his wantonness. All those rules were for the common man - the man who made $35,000 a year; the man, who at Mike's age, still lived with his parents. "Today," she would say, "belongs to the masses. The masses however don't know what is great, what is worthless, what is straight and what is honest. They always lie." No, Mike was not a member of the masses. Today belongs to them, but tomorrow to him. He had climbed high on his own two feet. He had no reason to follow their rules. His will to power gave him and excuse, an out, to do what he wanted. Spoon-fed by Kate, Mike ate it up. He WAS power, he WAS control and in so believing he was the perfect victim for Kate's control. Somehow, all the philosophies and ideas didn't quite sync up, out of context, but that was beyond Mike. The ideas were interesting and fun and made him feel good about himself. And instead of thinking and reasoning Kate kept Mike partying and dancing. Throwing his money around - expensive cigars and cheap women. The club scene was not the country club scene and Mike wanted to be hip - the browns and blacks of the normal American male were replaced by silken purples and fuchsias of a metrosexual. All the while he, and his girlfriend, were scoring with an endless string of young women. That was another bonding point for him and Kate, they both loved women. And Mike was in a state of constant arousal for both Kate and the women she provided. With all those women it would be normal to think that the attachments between Mike and Kate would loosen but just the opposite was true. All that those women provided was empty sex; it was Kate, and only Kate, that truly understood him. In Mike's mind it was Kate that loved him and he loved her back. They were in this together. Sex and love were powerful motivators but Mike's real passion, and Kate's real power over him, came from drugs. Gutter drugs - Cocaine, heroin, weed - were all known to him. At first he didn't want to take them, it seemed against his goals. But Kate made him understand that while others used these drugs for pleasure or escape he was using them to improve himself, as tools to exceed the common limits of the species. The street drugs kept him hopped up, but the real weapons in Kate's arsenal were the less common drugs - muscle relaxers, stimulants, Viagra, tranquilizers and even psychiatric medications. By giving Mike these she could produce in him any number of physical and emotional states. If she wanted him excited or excitable, clam or gung ho, she could produce that exact state in his mind or body. And she preferred to keep him physically weak and mentally placid. The drugs and a poor diet were taking there toll on Mike. Over a few months his body had changed from a fit healthy male to a small waif of a man. He had become androgynous. He looked the part of the classic effeminate gay man. He wasn't though, how could he be? He and his /GIRLFRIEND/ banged so many women. He had his share of offers from men but it never interested him in any way. In fact, he and Kate always had a good laugh at those "queers" expense. Yes, it was all in fun. That was a line he would never cross. But one come-on was a bit different. One night in the darkness of a club a straight man tried to pick Mike up, thinking him a girl. Soon realizing his mistake the man went on to chew out poor Mike calling him "sissy", "pansy" and "fag." Kate had spent so much time building him up and this little man came along and knocked him right down! To Mike, the "new man" who was beyond good and evil, it was infuriating. Kate saw and seized the opportunity. Sissy? Pansy? Fag? Mike was none of these! He was above all that. Kate said if that's what they thought of him he should throw it back in their faces. Stupid sexual stereotypes were just that, Stupid! The "new man" should have a new body. Gone were the technical constraints of the past; a new sex - a third sex, was being born into the world. Kate showed him picture after picture of beautiful she males with large full breasts, each stroking their own nine inch cocks. She regaled him with stories of the power and desirability of these new creatures. Besides, Kate reasoned to him, they both liked tits; why not get a set of his own? He wouldn't have to cut off his cock. He didn't have to do men. He would still be a heterosexual male; he would be man plus, double plus even. And if he would do this for her, if they could share this, then Kate would be bonded to him forever, a sex life and marriage like no other. At first Mike was shocked, it seemed so over the top. But as Kate continued the pressure, normalizing it for him, the idea of a Male/Female hybrid didn't seem so off the wall. He was living over the top, why not go for it? In his constant drug induced haze he agreed to it. There were no tricks, Kate didn't have to secretly slip hormones into his food. Mike went right to a doctor, a real proper doctor, and told him his plan. Mike knew how to get what he wanted. He lied and said he had always been a woman in a man's body, and it was time for that to change. It was what the doctor wanted to hear so that's what Mike said. And it Worked! Thousands of dollars worth of plastic surgery, drugs and hormones later Mike was a stunning woman. He was equal to the cute girls of his peer group, even better. He even picked out his own new name, "Missy." Very cute and very funny. Missy's and Kate's sex life was still amazing and the women she continued to bring him loved, just loved, what he was doing to himself. He truly had the best of both worlds the drive and financial power of a man and the personal sexual power of an attractive woman. The best pay off, and display of his new power, came shortly after the breast implants. Kate loved to take her new girlfriend out and show her off to the boys. Mike thought it was Kate's way of showing her own power, her way of saying, "look what I have that you boys never will." That night Missy was entered into a wet tee shirt contest. She hated such vulgar blatant displays of her body, but what the hell? It was all in good fun and Kate said it was a good idea - to get him use to being gawked at. It was at this event that a man hit on her. It happened all the time now, but Missy recognized the man as the one from before, the one that had treated Mike so poorly. With her blond locks flowing over her shoulders, her eyes clear and blue and her new breasts in full view she looked at the man and said, "What makes a /fag/ like you think you could get me? Go away little man!" Then Missy watched the man slump away with a proud smirk on her face. But all good things come to an end, for Missy they came crushing down. A heart arrhythmia brought on by excessive drug use landed her in hospital. As Kate sat by her bed, hand in hand, they both vowed that their lives would change. The party, the dream, was over. It was time to get on with life. Of course, just because they didn't party, didn't mean they weren't into kink. When Missy arrived home she found Kate waiting with a chastity. The rules were simple - it got removed, and Missy got off, only if she did what Kate wanted. And even then only when she allowed Kate to tie her up. At first the tasks were simple, easy to follow, and Missy was getting off nearly everyday. But then the tasks became less well defined and subjective - smile more, be happy, flirt. Till finally the demands boiled down to one thing, "be sexy." Each day it was "be sexy", "be sexy", "be sexy." What did it mean? Missy wasn't sure. She tried to be sexier and sexier in the only way a man understands, by sluting herself up. But it didn't always work. Often days, sometimes as much as a week, would go by with Kate judging her, "not sexy enough" and trapped in his little cage Mike would try harder the next day. The nature of their sex life changed - Vaginal sex quickly became a rare treat and the amount of oral Missy received declined as well, this man who once banged three chicks a day was soon happy with a hand job. Then Mike, now Missy, returned to his company after an extended leave of absence as Kate's personal assistant. In his drugged out fog he had signed everything over to the older woman, giving her power over himself and his assets. Not that he minded all that much, he and Kate were still together; that was all that mattered. Besides his lust filled mind was now as weak as her body, filled only with one thought - be sexy. This day Missy was seated at her desk, outside the big doors that lead to Kate's office, doing her nails; her large breasts jiggling with each stroke of her emery board. So it was when she received a visitor for Kate, it was Mr. Cone the head of a rival company. She was stunned when Mr. Cone was quickly ushered by Kate into her office, as if she was expecting him. Kate motioned for Missy to follow her. She watched as Kate and Cone signed a few papers then shook hands. Their attention then turned to Missy. Bob, Mr. Cone, lowered himself into a large leather chair saying, "Now that that's done, the question is what to do with you? MIKE." Missy's jaw dropped, Robert continued, "Why don't you take off your clothes and show us those nice big tits of yours? MIKE." Missy looked at Kate, "Show him, honey." As Missy slowly stripped off her dress Bob laid out what just happened, Mike had been played. Did he remember a few years ago when Bob Cone sent a man over with an offer? Did he remember? Did he remember how he, Mike, had thrown the offer in his face saying that in ten years the young start-up would be so large it would run Bob Cone's own company out of the market? He looked at Missy now dressed in only bra, panties and stockings, "I said I wanted to see those Tits!" "Off with the bra, Missy!" Kate added. Bob's eyes grew as the strapless bra popped off, "How big are those things?" "40 DD." Kate laughed. Bob told the now shamed girl to put her heels back on and do a few spins around. He continued his narrative. $10 million for an $8 million company was so very generous, but it was not enough for the young man who found instant wealth with an investment of a few thousand. And did he remember what he said? Bob hoped he remembered because it was simply the best part! Mike had said those years ago, "I'll never sell to that cocksucker Cone, who probably has to wear his wife's panties to get off." Well, Mike? Who's wearing the panties now? And you wear them so well. Bob now smiled at the lovely creature standing naked before him, "You see that's when I hired Kate. At first all I wanted to do was destroy you and your company by keeping you distracted. But as it became clear that you had fallen under her power more completely then could have been predicted I realized I could do so much more with you." Missy so transfixed and shocked by the story had not noticed Kate sneaking up behind her. She pinned the younger girl's arm behind her and forced Missy down onto her knees. Bob was unbuckling his pants, "You know Mike, or 'Missy' I guess, I understand A is A. Cocksucker? Now, that's an interesting word. Words have meaning, they are the foundation of how we understand things and relate to each other. Wouldn't you agree, COCKSUCKER." Missy was now vainly struggling against the stronger Kate as she was pushed across the floor to Bob's waiting prick. She was crying out, whining, "NO! NO! I'm not gay! I won't do it." He pushed down ruthlessly on her head, "it's not gay for a gal to give a fellow a blow job." She was then warned that if Bob felt any teeth he would belt her across the face and knock every last one of her pearly whites out. He was moaning, she was on the verge of vomiting. The head of his cock was moving over her tongue. It was sick, it was disgusting. And as she felt him tighten and spurt into her mouth she tried to pull away but found her head held fast. She was now a cocksucker, a real cocksucker, and she could never go back. Her view of reality was crashing and burning all around her. That body, that body she had paid so much for had but one purpose and she now knew what it was, sex. Her body was made, shaped and molded, to turn on and be used by men. Missy had been fooling herself that she could walk that line so closely. Most lines in the sand have some coming back, but this was not one of those times or places. She now saw that it was not a line at all, it was a precipice. She had now crossed over, she had been pushed off the edge. ===== "Fuck - (also f*ck, f**k, f***, ****, f-k, f---) 1. to copulate ... 3. semen 4. any sex act leading to orgasm. This includes all homosexual acts and other practices which are covered by the term 'sodomy' 5. a woman considered as a sex object, as in the phrase 'a good fuck.' ... 8. to cheat, deceive, or ruin" from "Slang and Euphemism, Abridged Edition" Part 2 of 6 - "Shiny things from on high" A, B and C; these were the choices before her. Each was represented by a sheet of paper with a different fate written on it - street whore, corporate slut toy and housewife. From these limited choices Missy was to decide the course of the rest of her life. She looked them over then looked to the right where a list of mandatory rules Cone had drawn up for Missy to follow, to follow despite which ever choice she made, lay. The rules were designed to ensure that, forever, Missy would never be a threat to him or the business world at large. They ran from the obvious - she could never have more then $1000 in a checking/savings account and she could never own any stocks, to the odd - her hair must be at least one foot long and her clothing can never extend below her knee. There was even quasi-legal language - "The owner, here after referred to as 'Master', reserves the right to reinterpret and revise these rules at any time. Random checks by the Master to insure compliance..." Missy's eyes next darted to her girlfriend, who was sitting across the desk. She looked so calm and collected, how could she change so fast and so completely? Just a few days ago they were so close, now she had sold Missy's company for her own profit and was about to sell Missy herself into slavery. There had to be something left, "Kate? I..." "Do not forsake me, oh my darling", came a sarcastic tone cutting her off. Missy's eyes shot to the other end of the desk Where Bob Cone was sitting. He was pushing his lips out in a funny pout. It looked comical on his face but, Missy realized, it would look damn sexy coming from her full lips. He continued, "Don't look to Kate for help. She has what she wants from you, now it's time for the men of the world to get what they want from you. And it's up to you to decide precisely how you will provide it. So be a good little pet and try to focus on the task at hand." Missy averted her eyes, "none of these..." "What? 'None of these are acceptable?' Is that what you were going to say? Well, that's sort of the point, isn't it then? You'll soon learn that you don't get to decide what's acceptable, a cocksucker like you doesn't have that right." The word, cocksucker, cut into Missy; the memory and taste of her first blowjob were still fresh in her mind and mouth. Bob continued, "If you don't make a decision by the hour, I will! And tranny whore it will be! There's a 'nice' black man downtown that's going to have a lot of fun turning you out. You won't walk so proud or talk so loud after you've had a dozen cocks a night in each of your holes." A shiver went down Missy's spine, street whore was definitely out. Kate and Bob had explained the lifestyle each choice entailed and the horror of being forced into the life of a street whore was particularly horrific. She never considered it a viable option. Bob didn't consider it a legitimate option either, it was just there as a threat to force Missy into deciding between the other two. However, Bob thought, wouldn't it be a hoot, and revealing about Missy's true nature, if she would choose it. The other two, the real choices, were meant to inspire a separate kind of terror of their own in a man. Corporate slut - being a kept woman, a very nicely gilded cage indeed. Luxury and fashion would be hers, but it would still be a cage. She would be required to have an active social life, to be the play thing of every man who would ever come in contact with Bob's company. Many of whom she had worked with or pushed around when her name was "Mike." She would have to see them everyday and they would know that she was the "go to girl" to relieve their tension. She would always be THAT girl in the boardroom. And many, if not most, would be in on her secret. She would be an object lesson, the kind of thing usually relegated to urban legend in the dark corners of the corporate psyche, "don't cross Mr. Cone," they would whisper, "he can do some very bad things, look at Missy." Housewife was little better - no luxury or fashion, the cage would be much more bleak. A life wasted away on such mundane things as cooking and cleaning. But, there would not be hundreds of men, just one. One man she would be completely subservient to. And her hell would be private, no public displays of submission; no object lessons for others to stare and marvel at, just a slow burn into nothingness. Right now it was the choice itself that was important. In the end Missy would be a toy for along time to come, and Bob had such devious plans for his toy. Both choices would lead to her destruction and his pleasure. But right now the game was simple - fool her into thinking she has some say in the matter, then make her do what he wanted anyway. Years down the road, when Missy was completely broken and lost to the world, Bob could point to this exact moment and say, "it's your fault, Missy, you should have chosen better." There was a fourth choice - Missy could start screaming bloody murder and hope for a rescue. It had crossed her mind. But Kate had bested her so easily, forcing her to Bob's crotch. Missy was sure she would be tackled, chained and neatly delivered to that "nice man" downtown. It was enough of a threat to send the thought fleeing from her head. An antique clock on the side table started to chime. Bob smiled, "The chimes of Big Ben! What's it going to be?" She looked at the papers, it was go time. Which would it be? She passed the paper across the desk. Bob grinned, checkmate! He laughed out loud, "It's your funeral. Kate, you know what to do." She reached for the phone. The paper read "house wife." Bob then launched into a monolog," I knew deep down that's what you wanted. I know little about psychology and I know in every would-be titan of industry there is a 'little woman' hiding. An anvil inside a hammer, and you have gone so easily from a hammer into anvil." The words again cut into Missy, raking across her mind, inspiring both shame and fear. She had flipped so easily, not only choosing to become a woman, but custom designing her body's sex bomb look. Kate had said B-cups were fine, but Missy had balloons installed. Kate said narrow hips were ok but Missy was not satisfied, even going so far as flying to a European clinic to have exotic hip implants put in. Thin lips? A little lipstick goes a long way Kate told Missy. Missy went to the surgeon with a blanket demand "whatever it takes", she wanted her face, her lips, "fixed." Kate had not directly opposed these decisions, in fact she was happy to wink and say Mike had done the right thing afterwards, but she had not encouraged him either. Mike's predilection to overdo things, to do them to perfection, had been turned against him. Now he would be overdoing homemaking and learning to suck his husband's cock to perfection. Bob continued, "You've been a schizoid man... er... woman. Living out of harmony with your true nature", he was clearly mocking her with a crooked grin on his face, "But soon darling, we'll have you living in harmony. After all women, like you Missy, like to server men and men like to fuck women like you." "The world is not a free for all. We can't have you flaunting that body of yours around then going home to your 'lesbian' girlfriend, there would be fall out. That", and he stretched and emphasized the next word, "H-O-M-O-S-E-X-U-A-L life style is death. And what you did with Kate was the dance of the dead. We can't have you being the 'girl who was death' leading everyone astray. We can't have that at all." To Missy this was a strange disturbing speech. To her she was a heterosexual male who for what ever reason, by hook or by crook, now had the body of a female. She even had all the essential equipment, secured away in it's chastity as it may be. To her sex with Kate, or any woman, was normal and healthy. Sex with men on the other hand, that was wrong, disgusting. Her body shook with the understanding that she would be the bottom, the "catcher" and not the "pitcher", to her new husband. She even wondered if he would ever allow her escape from her chastity, or keep her forever locked. There was a knock on the door. Bob waved for Kate to open it, "The arrival! Your once upon a time is about to begin." Kate greeted Missy's former chauffeur. As he leered at the bare breasted sissy behind the desk Kate finally spoke up, "I don't think you need to be introduced, but your new husband here wants to introduce you", she giggled, "to 'The General'" Missy didn't know who 'The General' was but the on coming reality that this was her new "hubby" was dawning and horrifying her. Bruce was a large man, linebacker large, and had a history of violence. Missy remembered the long list of orders of protection against him that riddled his criminal background check when she, then Mike, had hired him. Back then this tendency to violence and his size were good things - he was to be both a chauffeur and bodyguard. And he was there for all of Mike's transformation. Missy even remembered the circumstances of his dismissal. Kate and Missy were making out in the back seat after a night out when Kate leaned over and whispered in her ear that the driver was watching. Missy looked up and saw, indeed, he was studying them in the rear view mirror. Missy not thinking shot at him, "keep your eyes on the road, Bruce! And keep IT in your pants!" and she closed the privacy barrier. After that Missy began to see something dangerous in his eyes, she had seen it before but now it was directed at HER! It was something wild, a violent anger (or lust, Missy wasn't sure) he seemed unable to tame. It scared her so much that he was soon gone. Missy couldn't even do it herself; Kate had handled Bruce's firing. Of all the men she had encountered since her transformation he was the one that Missy most feared. And now, she realized, she would have to be totally subservient to his wishes. Missy was soon introduced to "the general", Bruce's mighty prick. It was large like the rest of him - a full 10 inches and 2.5 around, the uncut skin gravelly with veins along the shaft. When Missy first saw it she tried to flee, this was all getting too real for her. She had to be dragged kicking and screaming back to the desk. "NO! You can't make me," she wailed, "I won't put that in my mouth. I'll choke!" Missy's fear deepened as she heard Kate hiss in her ear, "You won't choke. Because, it's not going in your mouth!" Missy was held firm bent across the desk. She felt a finger invading her, greasing up her passage. Still she vainly struggled,"No! Please! No! This isn't right!" She then heard Bob's voice, "No Missy, it IS right. In time you will come to accept that," he then trailed off, moving back," You must have known, when you were shooting yourself full of female hormones. You must have known this is where you would end up. How could you not? You want it Missy, we'll help you see that. It is right, it's exactly right." Kate had a popper in her pocket; she debated whether she should use it. It would keep Missy from clenching up and make her deflowering go all the easier. But it would also make her light headed and high. Would the effects relax her or make what was happening all the more frightening? It didn't matter, Bob would want Missy in her right mind for this; it's best to see how it plays out. Such subtleties, such kindnesses, were best avoided anyway if Missy was going to accept her new life in any quick order. There are times, like now, to be ruthless; times to give the pray no quarter. She could feel Bruce now, pushing. Forcing his way in to her. Stretching her wide," please, it hurts! You're hurting me!" Bob then began to talk in a mock serious tone," We are gathered here today to join this man and this woman..." She could feel it moving, tearing her wide, ripping every inch of her. Bruce was more than excited, he was fond of taking real girls anal virginity, and the site of his former boss; the person that had been the object of his lust and angry scorn; beneath him was profound. He would enjoy breaking her, getting her use to and even willingly accepting, his cock on a daily basis. "To have and to hold? In sickness and health? Till you let her up?" "I Do." Bruce moaned "And do you Missy pledge to love 'the general' and obey Bruce through..." Bruce was now slowly moving in and out, reaming Missy's battered hole. The overwhelming pain from his invading cock and her inability to do anything to stop it's violation of her had reduced Missy to tears and she was quietly sobbing, "please stop.. please.. please.. please..." Bob looked down at the grimace on her face and listened to her soft pleas, "I'll take that as 'I do.'" With Bruce's heavy weight and deep penetration now nailing Missy firmly to the desk Bob lifted himself off her. He walked over to a side table and picked up a glass. Wrapping the glass in a handkerchief he listened as Bruce groaned filling Missy with his thick white essence. Bob put the package on the floor and just as he had crushed Missy's manhood he crushed the glass with his loafer. He, Kate, Bruce and Missy were all now bound in an unholy marriage, "many happy returns." To be continued... Copyright 2004 Quiet Savage quietsavage@yahoo.com /~qsavage/