Themes: tg, forced feminization

------- Legend -------
*bold*
_This_is_underlined_
/Italic/
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  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.


	"Blame and punishment are intensely individual 
	matters. Where they are used to correct and to 
	better the character, where they are the tools of
	the friends and teacher and not the weapons of 
	the enemy, great care must be used. Character 
	building is an aim, not a technique, and the end 
	has justified the means. Society has just about 
	come to the conclusion that merely punishing the 
	criminal does not reform him, and merely to punish 
	the child has but part of the effect desired. In 
	character training punishment and blame must 
	bring PAIN... It must teach the error of the ways
	 and prepare the recipient for instruction as to 
	the right way."
			From "The Foundations of Personality" 
				by Abraham Myerson

"Degraded Assets"
By Quiet Savage

Part 5 of 6- "In the deep thick wood"

	"Don't make me do this, Bruce."

	She was standing there nearly naked, her privates on
full display. She was wearing only heels, garter belt
and stockings, a short red corset that left her
breasts fully exposed and on her head were a set of
fuzzy pink rabbit ears.

	"Come over here and hold my hand." he was peeking
through a set of curtains. As Missy minced over to him
he took her hand in his and squeezed tight. "They're
almost ready." he then turned to her, "I don't want
you to do it either, honey bunny, but we need the
money. This is the big time now so it won't be long."

	Someone called from the other side of the curtain.

	"Okay, Bunny. You've been prepared, it shouldn't hurt
too much or anything. So just do like we talked about,
you know how it works."
His eyes lit up with a big fake smile, "Big smile, and
act girly. Don't forget they want a pretty innocent
happy girl, but they also want a dirty whore."
"A pretty innocent happy girl whore." he repeated for
emphasizes.

	BANG BANG, SLAM

	BANG BANG, SLAM

	The music started - it was the open to Queen's "We
are the champions" the anthem of a million jock pep
rallies.
Bruce was stepping back from her, allowing her hand to
fall from his, "Big smile. Strike the pose. Happy
girl."

	
	("We will, we will rock you!")

	BANG BANG, SLAM

	The announcer could be heard over the PA system -
"And now!"

	BANG BANG, SLAM

	"The woman of the hour."

	BANG BANG, SLAM

	"MISSY BUNNY!!!"

	The curtain was pulled revealing Missy standing there
in her outfit, hand on her out-swung hip, her other
hand cocked bent wristed high above her head. Big
happy grin on her painted lips.
The announcer continued, "Gentlemen, GET READY TO
ROCK!"

	
	("We will rock you!")

	BANG BANG, SLAM

---

	The set of "Ultimate She Male Gang Bang" was not up
to all the pomp and circumstance; they would make it
look more dramatic in editing. The movie was one of
those disgusting gang bang pictures so popular in
recent years, with a she male twist. Despite what the
wording of the title may imply it was not a bunch of
she males banging each other, only Missy and fifty men
in three hours. It rightly should have been called,
"She Male Gang Banged Ultimately"

	The Grin was more relaxed as she was led to the mat
in the center of the auditorium. The whole time waving
and blowing kisses to the camera and the men. A little
strain could be seen on her face as the first man came
to bear behind her, but the expression went as another
entered her mouth. Soon she was lost in the men, one
after the other taking her. She had to keep an odd
rhythm thrusting her hips back into the man behind her
as she kept site of the man in front and sometimes in
her hand. Each man gave a money shot- on her back, her
legs, her chest, on her pretty face. No time to clean
up, gotta move on to the next cock. And fifty men?
That doesn't translate into fifty cum shots, although
they were all gay-for-pay Missy was so pretty and
pumped up on Viagra the men were getting off on her
two, three sometimes four times each. By the
three-hour mark she was pretty well fucked.

	Pornography is a surprisingly low paying profession,
at least for girls like Missy that couldn't dance.
Sure the producers and distributors get a good amount
but the average girl like Missy sees none of those
profits. "Gang Bang", Missy's highest pay out to date,
brought her a pitiful $1300. She only made two or
three hundred per photo shoot; less then a thousand
for a part in a film. And to add, or subtract
depending on how you look at it, to her poverty Mr.
Cone's company took 34% off the top for managing her;
that's not 34% net, it's gross. Part of the problem
that kept Missy from being a real TG star were all the
strange riders in her contracts - She could only be
penetrated; never penetrate others, if there were
"toys" they had to be large and realistic, if she
worked with females or other She Males she could only
touch their "female parts" if she was being fucked at
the moment. But most notable was the odd stipulation
that Missy would not allow herself to get off. No,
though she may be covered in cum, there was never a
money shot for Missy herself.

	After each shoot she was locked back in her cage; the
only points that counted towards her release were the
points that she scored with Bruce. And after being
around so many hot women, after watching hours and
hours of porn to get the expressions and moves right,
after being touched so expertly; all combined with the
fact that, in a world as dim as the one Missy now
inhabited, that moment of release was her only joy,
her sex drive had kicked back into overdrive. She
could no longer play coy. She came onto HIM, and as
time went by she became less shy about it. Sometimes
Bruce was getting off three times a day, Missy once.
And Bruce made sure they did it everywhere- in her
dressing room, the car, bent over the sink in
bathrooms, over the couch, the knees of her stocking
starting to run as they emerged from darkened alleys,
on all fours in the living room, against the broom
closet, over the wash tub, serving him on the dining
room table, in the kitchen...

	All those little sub-points - finger sucking, French
kissing, ear nibbling, back rubs and the rest took on
new importance. She dripped sex, not just to Bruce but
to everyone (though Bruce was the one she consciously
tried to arouse, her new persona mingled
uncontrollably with her personality), and still it was
not enough.

	One time another tranny had taken pity on Missy. She
had the girl on her back, fucking her, Missy playing
with her own tits. The tranny seeing Missy's obvious
excitement reached down and began to frig the girl. At
that very moment Bruce stepped forward yelling
something about breech of contract and tried to carry
Missy out the door totally naked. It took half an hour
to calm him down and assure him it wouldn't happen
again.

	Bruce was another reason Missy lost out on some work.
Bruce and Missy were a package deal - they were close,
too close in many people's opinion. He was always
there, hovering around, usually within arms reach. A
few times people had tried to corner Missy, to talk to
her alone, but it never worked; before they could get
a sentence out Bruce would burst in and take her away.
Some people thought they saw fear in her eyes.

	Others, however, saw something else- soul-mates. So
Bruce was the jealous type? So what! They were
obviously deep in love. The way they talked and joked
with each other, the way she touched his wrist and
arm, the way they held each other in the back of the
set- she was always sucking his fingers or sitting on
his lap kissing him or nibbling his ear. (PDA's added
an extra .1 point; why, oh why, did Bruce so often
lose track of all those little decimal places?). Missy
was quite the little tart, a lot of guys wanted a
plaything just like her.

	And then there were the tattoos! On Missy's chest in
a tiny font was written the words "BRUCE'S SLUT." On
her inner thighs, like sick parodies of an angel's
wings, were two erect penises (much larger and fatter
then her own, people assumed they replicas of Bruce)
pointing to the future and marked: "Missy's purpose"
and "natural order." She had other tats a lot of
people missed; the slogans were also imprinted on her
lips. To hide these stockings and heavy lipstick were
no longer a costume or a fashion statement- they were
a necessity. But the tattoo that got her the most
compliments was the large heart on her right shoulder,
Missy sitting astride it like a piece of World War II
nose cone art in a pink bunny costume. The heart read-
"Bruce And Bunny Forever."

	To those people the reason Bruce and Missy were
always lost in their own world was not because of a
profound problem in their relationship. No, "True
love" is what many told themselves of the couple.

	She was always up for something: Videos, films,
extreme S&M and bondage without any actual penetration
(getting hooked up to a battery, red hot pokers
centimeters away from her eyes and what not. She
REALLY hated that; especially the way they stroked her
back up before continuing), scat and enema videos.

	But the worst for her was the "semi-biographical"
work she did. It was "biographical" in that it used
real images from her life; it was "semi" in that all
the voiceovers she did were written for her. It
started with a slide show of Mike as a child, Missy's
voice over talking about how she was "average" but
terribly unhappy, then a brief description of his
business career, then started her transformation to
her "true self" documented with pictures and the film
began to be cut with porn images of her being fucked
and moaning. All till the final scene of her giving a
well hung man a blow job with her talking about her
current state, how she has a loving husband ("better
then any man I was"), satisfaction and happiness. This
was punctuated as she finished the job, her face
turning to the camera, cum seen dripping from her
mouth and her voice over saying, "this is my life now,
and this is how I like it!"

	Bob had great fun with that one; making lists of
people, some strangers but most not, to send it to all
with a hand written note and signed head shot of
Missy. She dreaded getting these lists, her eyes fixed
on them as she sat at her make-up table, especially
since there was an appeal- with each name there was a
way out. If she did the prescribed task, things that
would make a hard-core fan of those cringe shows
retch, the name would be removed. The first notes were
so badly written with shaking hands that they had to
be re-written over and over, till finally they were
smooth as ice; the "i" in "Missy" being dotted with
heart.

	And there did become another way out. One day Bruce
pointed at some names and said, "I don't think these
people should find out."

	Soon Missy found she could get out of nearly all the
note writing by appealing to Bruce. And he didn't ask
for anything to do it, at least not materially. He
wanted to see something, in her face, demeanor, or in
the inflection of her voice that said she knew he was
doing it out of the kindness of his heart. He wanted
to see "appreciation." If he didn't get it, if he
thought she was acting or trying to play him, the name
and the task stayed. His role as both disciplinarian
and protector becoming more entrenched.

	She did many things one would not expect form a TG
star even doing a topless spread in a motorcycle book
on a modern custom , her bits and pieces hidden. It 
was one of the blessings she had going for her; she
was so passable and pretty she could do straight porn,
TG porn being limited to a niche market. If they shot
her right she could suck off or be banged with the best
of the XX girls and those hetro men at home watching in
the darkness wouldn't know a bit of difference; or the
bits that were different.

	Not everyone wanted such a secret in a porn actress,
she did take a pay cut for not being a real girl, but
Bob's negotiators were so persuasive. She could never
star in such a film, only a face in the crowd, one of
many that gets fucked. But she did have a near star
role. It was a porn version of one of those coming of
age movies- the ones where at the beginning the star
is a virgin but then "finds herself" by becoming a
tramp and at the end finds true love with one man, the
man who was there at the beginning; the man who was
there all along. There was Missy reciting her lines in
a tube top and micro mini, the sage voice of wisdom,
explaining to the star why she should give in and
embrace the slut inside.

	And Missy hated every minute of it, a maze of
conflicting emotions she could never give over to the
moment. Her body was responding but her mind could not
forget what she had been, to her it was all horribly
wrong. In a way she wanted it to go on forever
because, she knew, when it was all over and they had
all the money they needed she would be losing more
than her self-respect.

---

	Missy had taken to crying in a big way. She cried
when she was sad and she cried when she was angry or
frustrated. When she was happy? She probably cried
then too. Her five-minute fits of self-pity had gotten
even worse after she had started her porno career.
Crying, the way Missy did, was definitely not
masculine but it wasn't really feminine either. Real
girls cry when they want something or to get attention
from those around them - it's a form of emotional
blackmail. Missy, on the other hand, cried at the drop
of a hat and for little, if any, reason. It wasn't
masculine, it wasn't feminine; it was merely childish.
This time though Bruce knew it was different, they
were about to make a break through. Missy grabbed him
by the hand after filming ended and dragged him
quickly to her dressing room, her face about to
explode in tears. This was not simply Missy crying
herself to sleep or breaking in to tears as she
vacuumed. This was not Missy silently sobbing in the
back seat of the car because the doors wouldn't open
from the inside. This was not Missy simply crying,
this was Missy running to daddy.

	She pushed Bruce down on the sofa crying into his
chest. Bruce tried to reciprocate her hug but could
not find a clean way to do it - her body was a sticky
mess of man juice and sweat, her hair matt with the
drying cum of other men. In the end he gave in to the
baby's need to be held and, damn his own discomfort,
put his arms around her.

	"Take me home, Bruce," she whined, "You've won!
You've beat me! I'll be a good wife. I won't complain.
I won't be a bother. I'll be good! Just no more of
THIS!"

	Bruce tried to console her, "you're a good wife now,
baby."

	"But I'll be better! I won't try to run away! You
won't have to lock the doors anymore. I just want to
go home. Take me home, Bruce!"

	"Bunny, you and I both know I haven't had to lock the
doors in some time. And don't even threaten to run
away! Bob will hunt you down."

	The new threat that kept Missy in line? The "nice man
downtown" was off the table, it seems Bob was in
contact with people who were interested in making
torture snuff. People who would dump Missy's lifeless
corpse in the barren woods. A sad end to a sad life.

	"But..." she stammered, "you've won! I'll be a good
wife! I won't complain! Please, Bruce, end this game.
It's over! God, it's over! I'LL BE A GOOD WIFE FROM
NOW ON!"

	"You're a good wife now, Bunny." he repeated as if to
belittle her emotion, "And you WILL be a better wife,
after your operation. And Bunny," he added, "When was
the last time you were allowed to complain? I mean
really?"

	What was most troubling for Missy was not that she
couldn't stop this train wreck of a life but the
realization she had absolutely nothing to bargain
with. It wasn't simply that she had a bad hand, it was
that she had no cards at all. She always thought that
this submission - her agreement that "they" were
better then her and that as her punishment she would
quietly resign herself to home and husband, was what
they wanted. And if she gave it, not just gave it but
whole heartily agreed with it as she did now, than all
this horror - the "game" - would go away. Mike, and
the last of his resistance, behind her Missy would go
forward a new born woman, a perfect little wife to
Bruce. But it didn't work! She was still being forced
on to the tracks. Little more then a foil for their
plans, she had nothing and she knew it.

	"It's not right," she said.

	She cried it out, till her tear ducts could produce
no more. She was at her lowest point; she needed
something, anything!

	"Bruce?" she asked slowly, womanly, "before, when you
said I was a 'pretty girl whore'? I'm not a 'whore'?
Am I?"

	"No, baby." he said with understanding, "I said they
'wanted a whore', not that you ARE a whore. You're not
a whore; you're a star, baby"

	'Porn star'? 'Whore'? It was all semantics. But it
was the perfect thing for Bruce to say. Somehow, Missy
thought, she had snatched a small victory from the
jaws of total defeat.

	"But since you brought it up," Bruce continued, "I
was reading the adult papers and some trannies are
advertising a rate of $250 an hour. And none of them
are half as pretty as you."

	Missy looked up into his face with shocked dread only
to be quickly relieved by his wide grin. He was
joking! Poking fun at the dark realities of her life.
Her sad mood pivoted on the moment.

	"Bruce!" she cooed, wiping a tear from her eye.

	"No." he squeezed her. "I wouldn't do that to my
honey bunny." He said without a hint of irony in his
voice.

	She lay there silently for a while before taking the
initiative, "I was thinking about a book I was
reading." She said softly, "It's one of the novels I
was reading. Cassie hates this guy, Duncan, and all
through the book he chases her and she resists her
attraction to him. But then near the end of the book
she realizes they belong together and in a big scene,
with candles and rose petals by a water fall they come
together and they have sex, you know, softly...
gently. Nicely."

	"What are you saying, Bunny?"

	She looked up at him, her eyes large with need, "It
can be like that with us. This story doesn't always
have to be about you it can be about US."

	"I didn't realize it was about me?"

	"No, listen. We light some candles, I'll cook you a
nice meal? I don't care about the points. If you're
nice to me, just for one night, you can double the
necessary points, triple them even!" she was worming
trying to get closer to his face, her voice rising in
pitch and the words spilling out faster, "I'll wait
six or nine, No, eighteen!, points for my own
pleasure."

	Not thinking, she was bargaining with the only
currency she had left - her own suffering.

	"Please!" she pleaded.

	"Oh my bunny is such a romantic," he said with a
little laugh.

	She nuzzled him, "it'll be good, Bruce, you'll see."

	"I don't know," he sighed, "seems like a lot of work.
But yea, I was thinking of making a change. I was
watching some of your DVDs and thinking. I want
something different. No more getting three points and
then a solo act as I hold you. From now on I only want
you to cum while I'm in you. Face to face like you do
on the set, eyes wide open. I want to track your face
as I cum. I want you to be able to kiss me as you cum,
to see your eyes in mine."

	Who was being romantic now?! Sometimes, Missy
thought, Bruce could be so quaint. She had heard of
this technique of sexual mind control before, the old
"do it with the lights on while looking in
each-other's eyes." It was supposed to foster a deep
feeling of understanding, as if the act brought out
one's true face and an animal connection made through
lust. It was a primitive naive form of control batted
around at 16 year old girls' slumber parties. It was
also one of those things that didn't actually work; it
would have been more effective, and easier, to just
drop XTC together. However, in this context it was
romantic, not flower petals and candle romantic, but
romantic nonetheless. Missy could sense that if he was
pulling this out now they were indeed near the end of
the game.

	Her need had turned into a sly smile, "Bruce, I know
what you're doing, that's not going to work."

	He stared down at her, "Well, then it won't hurt to
do it. And when we do it like that it'll be both the
point for the fuck plus and extra half point. You come
out ahead. Besides, Bunny, you're wearing me out."

	"If you say so, baby," she laughed.

	She lay there on his chest for a few moments, her
mood so light now. Despite the filth on her body, the
aching of her muscles, the pain in her ass and the
stiffness in her jaw she felt comfortable. She thought
back on her life and all she had lost, all she will
lose in the future. She had lost so much. The girls
were gone, Kate was gone, the money was gone, any real
chance at a future was gone. Mike's body, his
identity, was gone. All these things were gone, most
likely forever. And all these things were no longer
for Missy. She meditated on this as she lay on Bruce's
chest, listening to his heart. For the first time she
could remember she was at peace. "Those things were
good," she thought, "but this here, right now, is good
too."

=====

	"...Young male monkeys frequently adopt female
	sexual invitation postures and are then mounted by
	dominant males that would otherwise have attacked
	them...      ... In our species there is, as we have
	seen, a strong tendency to 'fall in love' - to develop
	a powerful bond with the object of our sexual
	attention. This sexual imprinting process produces
	the all important long-term mateship so vital to
	prolonged parental demands... Certain key stimuli
	that are present at the moment of sexual reward become
	intimately linked with th reward, and in no time at
	all it is impossible for sexual behavior to occur
	without the presence of these vital stimuli..."
		From "The Naked Ape" by Desmond Morris

Part 6 of 6- "Sympathy for Kate: Debriefing"

	 "Go away Missy, I don't what you here," The voice
came from behind the heavy wood door.

	"Please Kate," She begged like a little girl, "I
don't have anywhere to go. Bruce kicked me out,
Plleeaasse Kate"

	"Fine!" the door cracked, "But you have to call him.
You have to go home."

	And Missy was let in to the town house that she, when
her name was "Mike" and Kate once shared. Missy was
shocked when she first caught sight of Kate behind the
door. Her eyes were sunken and had a glassy appearance
to them. Her raven hair was cropped short. She had a
nose ring and since Missy had last seen her Kate had
gained 20 or 30 pounds. She was still good looking and
angular but not the hot little number she was when
Missy and her were together. Kate looked butch; she
looked as hostile as she was.

	"Kate, I a..."

	Kate turned, "go to the guest room and call Bruce,
you know where it is. Let's see how fast we can get
you out of here."

---

	They sat across the doctor's desk as he looked
through her file. Everything looked in order - Missy
had an active social life and live- in boyfriend. Her
job, the way she was paying for the operation, was
unorthodox but valid, all legal and everything. And it
was only temporary anyway; she hadn't done it in
awhile. The girl herself was a bit odd - her affect
was blunted (that empty stare of an empty head) and
she was a strange mix of passivity and flightiness and
very nervous, but that's to be expected. And the
psychiatric reports, prepared by the people at St.
Bernard's of the Rosy Cross, a hospital subsidized by
IEMWINS inc. (Industrial, Entertainment and Military
World Information Net Systems inc., little wonder why
they go by that Alphabet soup) an associate of
ConeCorp, said she was ready. (The doc didn't WORK FOR
that hospital, but he was the best in this area of the
country which is why they chose him.)It all looked
good, time to schedule the operating room. But the
doctor wanted to talk to Missy alone; Bruce should go
to the waiting room.

	When she emerged from the office there was no surgery
scheduled. Missy explained to Bruce that the doctor
had seen some "irregularities" in her file and that
she had an appointment for three months later.

	Bruce let Missy into the car and closed the door
behind her. But instead of getting in the driver's
side Bruce disappeared around the corner of the
near-by building. Missy waited there wondering where
he had gone. When he emerged several minutes later he
looked very angry, rushing to the car. He flung the
door open and pulled Missy from the car, pinning her
between himself and the car.

	"Irregularities in your file!?!" he screamed in her
face. She cringed trying to avert her eyes. He then
produced a micro cassette recorder and while still
holding one of her wrists shoved it in her face.

	The doctor's voice crackled over the speaker, "Well,
you're right Missy. It's a big step. So if you don't
think you are ready then you're not. How about you
come see me in three months and we'll see how you feel
about it then, sound good?"

	"You... you bugged the doctor's office?" She
stammered.

	Bruce stepped back and slapped her, slapped her hard,
sending her straight to the curb.

	"You're damn fucking right the office was bugged! Do
you get it now Missy! Do you understand! He's going to
kill you, Missy! He's going to kill you if you don't
go along! Dead! Understand!?!"

	"Bruce I... I am sorry, please."

	He was over her, menacing her, "Dead Bunny!" he
yelled at slow pace at the top of his lungs, "D-O
Y-O-U UN-DE-RS-TA-ND!? It's NOT a joke!"

	People were staring as they walked by but no one was
offering to help the woman on the ground

	"Nobody wants that Missy! You don't want that! The
surveillance team don't want that! It's why they gave
me the tape!" his voice was cracking with emotion, she
had never seen him like this.

	He threw the recorder down smashing it into a
thousand pieces. He turned around trying to compose
himself, rubbing his head as if trying to exorcize a
terrible headache.

	"And I don't!" he admitted, "I don't want to see you
dead."

	He was calmer but still highly angry, "damn it! God
fucking damn it, Missy! It's not a joke! It's just
gone so far, Bob can't let you go now. He's crazy."

	He was heading around the car still yelling, "Walk
around! Clear your head, but don't come home till
you're ready to cut it off! And Missy, if you can't do
it then RUN! Run far, run fast and never stop!"

	The car squealed away.

---

	Kate stood outside the guest room, she could hear
only half the conversation but she could follow it.
She would get the tape tomorrow just to be sure.

	"Yes, Bruce"

	"I understand"

	"But I don't know, I'm not sure"

	"Yes"

	"I'm sorry"

	"I do, I want to come home"

	"Ok, but ..."

	"I'm sorry"

	"No Bruce it's not that easy"

	"I'm sorry"

	"Well, it's late I don't think it's safe to go out"

	"But, I still can't."

	"I know, it's not a joke"

	"I do! I do! I really want to come home!"

	It was as if the other end of the line had gone dead,
she repeated the message slowly, "I just want to be at
home, I just want to be with you."

	"I know what you said"

	"Ok"

	"I'm sorry"

	"K"

	"Bruce... I love you."

	She waited

	"Did you hear what I said?"

	"Bruce? ... Bruce?"

	She put the phone back on the hook.

	Kate turned the corner, handing Missy an icepack,
"That's quite a shiner you got there. Does he beat you
often?"

	"Sometimes, but not much."

	Kate had seen the video. Missy was right it didn't
happen often but it did happen. She was never
seriously hurt (this black eye was the worst she ever
got) only shaken up, the point of it not being to hurt
her but to increase the level of punishment, fear and
perceived randomness of both. It would not be entirely
accurate to call them "beatings" as they were often
over in one slap or one punch. Missy always folded
immediately and unconditionally, her only and best
defense being total utter submission. And the worst
part for Missy was she almost never broke the rules
anymore, at least not as written. In the house of
common the rules had become elastic, like so much
spandex or rubber or cheap fake leather, that anything
Bruce wished could be considered a breech. It is a
natural tendency that when you have someone under your
control, who lacks the ability to fight back or appeal
to a higher authority, as Missy is to Bruce, to break
all bounds of social restraint. And the sad fact is
that if they hadn't taught him how to it just right he
really would have hurt her because even if it had not
been in the plan, Bruce would have done it anyway -
that's the kind of guy he is.

	The effects of this escalation on Missy were
profound, she had become actively passive trying to
preemptively head off any problem before it got to
Bruce. She did everything to insure that he was calm
and to prove to him that he was "the man." She had
become ultra-affectionate, ultra-understanding and
ultra-submissive. Yearnings for the days when the
rules were actually protection she overdid everything
and in an effort to control his actions with her own
she did it to perfection. Faced with the
uncontrollable nature of the violence or the ritual
spanking it was clear which she preferred. The one or
two times when she realized she had broken the rules -
she didn't wait for Bruce to find out. She went
running to him, head bowed kneeling before him, her
trembling hands raised above her she offered him the
paddle; she begged his forgiveness for her
transgressions, she begged to be punished.

	She was almost the perfect wife, which made her
current behavior all the more baffling. She was still
holding on to something, something she could still get
her hands around.

	Missy put the icepack on the bed beside her, the time
when it would have been useful long gone, "But it's
mostly my fault," she added, "I should know better by
now."

	"It's why his first wife left," Kate said slowly,
"But aaa, I hear she found a nice guy. And you won't
be leaving, will you?"

	"No, I guess not."

	"And he's not all that bad?"

	"He has his moments," she smiled looking down, "A lot
of people misread him, he needs my understanding. He
really is a good man, deep down."

	She went along but this was not what she wanted to
talk about, "Kate, they were listening to me. The
Doctor's office, they had a microphone ..."

	She stopped as Kate was franticly making a "cut" sign
across her neck. After Missy trailed off, Kate put her
finger to her lips to indicate, "shush".

	Missy sat there staring at the floor, so many things
now made sense. But does knowing really change
anything? Missy just felt more trapped.

	Kate began to speak very loudly, "You know Missy,
when you're in the MALL you shouldn't talk about how
you were once a man, some people who might not
understand might OVERHEAR you, those people might hurt
you. There's a lot of carnivores out there, people in
the upper echelons of society. "

	Kate could see a faint look of understanding, but not
much as if the girl was now numb to the world outside
herself, "not everyone is on board, you know with the
community, but people are being put in all the right
places, and then we can talk in the MALL."

	She stood there looking at Missy, "and the world
today? It's one BIG mall."

	There was no mike, no taps on her end of the line, no
laser lights pointed at this house, Kate just wanted
to shut the girl up. But there was that growing fear -
Bob wouldn't do that to Kate, would he? As he became
increasingly paranoid everyone became a target. Kate
at least took comfort in the knowledge that Bob
couldn't really be everywhere at once, or could he?

	"One big mall," Missy repeated, "but until then?"

	"Missy, sometimes you got to go along to get along.
Back during the American Rebellion there was this fort
down south, they built it out of palm trees because
they ran out of real wood. No one thought it would
hold up in battle. But as the cannon balls flew? The
timbers bent rather then broke, no shot ever got
through."

	"But, it's HARD." Missy whined, "I don't want to get
the operation."

	Kate sighed, "What's your big problem with being a
woman? Is it the sex? Sucking him off?"

	"No," Missy said, "that's good."

	"Getting fucked, then?"

	Missy shamefully darted her eyes to the right, "It's
not right that I should enjoy that." she said
artfully, "That violation of my body. I shouldn't. I
don't. I'm not gay."

	Kate smiled knowingly, "Still holding on to that? No,
Missy isn't gay," Kate explained, "she's just a little
confused. But MIKE? He was a flaming homo."

	Missy's eyes shot at her as Kate continued, "Everyone
knew. It's called 'Sublimation.' We can't make someone
/enjoy/ that through rote. There has to be something
there to start with." she lied.

	"It's not normal to graduate a year early at the top
of your class, it's not normal to be captain of the
golf team and top scores on the archery team, It's not
normal to make a million before your 20th birthday...
See, Archery team? That's a rather feminine weapon,
not like the rifle team or jr. ROTC. One wonder's why
you didn't go into the infantry, like your father,
like a real man. Instead you became a company boy. You
were always there on the side line cheering on the
guys, waving your pom-poms, the perfect little..."

	"Kate?!" Missy said looking around and biting her
thumb, "What are you talking about? I wasn't a
cheerleader?"

	"Cheerleader?" Kate halted then spoke slowly, "Yea, I
guess that was someone else. Someone out in the cold.
Someone who's been an independent contractor for too
long, just a whore. The old guard, lost a long time
ago..."

	She puckered her lips collecting her thoughts before
continuing.

	"But, back to Mike. See, he was covering for
something. And now I think he knows what it was, I'm
sure Missy's body is teaching Mike all kinds of
/interesting/ things he didn't know about himself,
about what he really does enjoy. About what he SHOULD
enjoy."

	"You're twisting the facts."

	"It's not so bad, you have Bruce."

	"Bruce?" Missy said in a far off voice.

	"Has your relationship with Bruce evolved any? Has he
ever said that he loves you? Maybe, not in so many
words."

	She thought about it, "Love? I think," She stopped,
"I think he feels some need for me. I think he wants
to protect me, he doesn't want to see me dead."

	"And you Missy?" Kate pointed her finger, "Do you
'need' Bruce?"

	Missy sat deep in thought, "I don't know. It's just
been so long, we've been together so much. I can't
imagine him not being there,"

	Kate waited for her to finish her thought.

	"I want him there." She said softly.

	"Needs? Wants?" Kate's smile was getting obnoxious,
"sounds like love to me." she licked her lips, "See,
people think love is this big earth shaking thing.
Most of the time though it's just a need, a want, for
the other party to be there. But, I'm thinking maybe,
you have it backwards."

	"What?"

	"You need to turn it around to get it right. I mean
all things being relative, who 'needs' who? Really? When
he's upset are you upset? If he has a problem do you
solve it? Do you know how you feel or do you just feel
him? When you look in the mirror are you asking yourself
if you're pretty or do you ask yourself if Bruce will
think you're pretty?"

	Missy's hand shot to her mouth and her eyes widened
as if she were the one talking, as if covering HER
mouth would stop the words, stop the revealing of her
awful secret.

	"You need him." Kate moved her hand in an arch from
west to east along the x-axis of her body, "He is the
sunlight that warms your body. You need him to provide
for you, to protect you. You need him to tell you your
place in the world. You need him to look at you the
right way..."

	"I need him to touch me," Missy took over, "I need
him to tell me I'm good. I don't know who I am any
more, I need him to tell me." She moved forward
looking on the verge of tears, "I do! I do! I need him
so much! Oh God forgive me, I do need him. If he
weren't there I wouldn't be there either!"

	"God!? Don't bring him into this! You worship at a
new alter now, on your knees taking liquid communion!
God has nothing to do with your sick 'needs.'"

	"Kate, please. Don't say things like that, be nice.
Just be nice."

	She added weakly almost silently, "Nobody's nice to
me anymore."

	Kate rolled her eyes, "Don't be such a prude, Missy.
No one goes to a real Church anymore. Even your own
mother left after the services of '75."

	She waited for Missy to compose herself some, "and
what you NEED is the operation."

	"I guess. Maybe." she said rubbing her nose and again
rolling her eyes to the right, "I want the operation
for Bruce. I just need more time. You can talk to him,
get me some time?"

	"Missy, I think for Bruce this HAS been an earth
shaking experience. He thought he was getting a live
in maid and sex slave. But you're taming the beast;
he's totally fallen for you. You men are such hopeless
romantics, your hearts and minds are won so easily."

	"But," she continued, "there's a problem, so long as
you have that thing between your legs he's going to
think there's something wrong, either with him or you,
he might not know. It's a barrier he'll never get
past. And the longer you wait the worse it will get."

	"But, it's all I have left. It's me!" The internal
conflict between Missy's needs and Mike's desires now
coming to her full attention.

	"Haven't you learned anything by now? You don't HAVE
/anything/? Not your possessions, not your body, not
you mind. None of it's yours."

	"My mind!? That's mine!"

	"Really?" Kate laughed,"Do you think Mike would be
here right now expressing a NEED for another man? Even
your basic drives, your needs have changed. You now
MUST take the submissive role in the relationship."

	"No!" cried Missy, but it was a "no" that evidently
said "yes."

	"Yes, Missy. The foundations of your personality have
changed. I heard you, not five seconds ago, say you
like to suck cock!"

	"I didn't say that!" yes!

	"You want it in you. Someone can't just cry out and
TELL you you were good. You need proof positive of his
love. If he could produce a gallon you'd drink it
all."

	"No," yes!

	"Being fucked, being used, being filled. It's like a
drug, once the needle pierces the skin you can't get
it out. It becomes the only true validation of your
humanity."

	"Kate, no!" Kate, YES!

	"If you woke up tomorrow in your old body? How long
do you think you could go before you need a fix? A
cock? Trolling the gay bars, the bath houses, dirty
public rest rooms. Begging every man to touch you, to
put you in your place. Telling you you're GOOD."

	"Don't say that!" do it HARDER!

	"Wanting that cock, then the next. And how long do
you think it would be before you want tits? Tits on
yourself. Tits so you can attract cocks."

	"Kate, please." (sic.)

	"I'm right? Aren't I?"

	Missy's eyes were now moving side to side, searching,
"NO, you hypnotized me! You made me want it. It's not
my fault!" HARDER!

	Kate laughed out loud, "Do you know how stupid you
sound! See, some of us still program the assembly, in
the old way, going right to the naked metal; the old
operating system is now the ghost in the shell, not
just for fun either! Mike took a fork into Missy!
You're a victim of your own id, your roots - fears are
just hopes suppressed!"

	"Stop it! You're not being nice." DEEPER!

	Kate pushed on, drilling into her, "We're your ego
now! You been wearing four-inch heels so long you
couldn't even wear tennis shoes if you tried. Frankly,
I'm surprised there's any super-ego left. I have your
power; your soul. You think the lights went off by
accident? You think that feat was easy?"

	"Be quiet! I need to think." FASTER!

	Kate's speech was quickening, "Your blood won't come
cheap again! And the switches in that wormy ether of
your mind? You're giving those away! Fault? Who cares.
We just used brute force, the rest was all you! I'm
surprised a stupid horny slut like you can string two
words together, two bits even, and I'm sure that will
change soon too."

	"Kate, no! It's not true." YES! YES! YES!

	"Still think the world is so simple? It's not always
as easy as just looking up. If you indulged in your
filthy habit right now, who would you think about? Me
or Bruce? You need something extra now, the girls in
'Playboy' aren't enough anymore! Your mind? It's no
more yours then I am. Face it, Missy, that little
thing doesn't match any other part of you, not even
your subconscious!"

	Missy held her breath, eyes closed as a single tear
rolled down her cheek, "You always did understand me,
Kate." She looked up at the woman, "I need YOU to tell
me who I am."

	"Well, that's something we should talk about." Kate
rolled over, "It's time for another name change."

	"No, Kate, I meant..."

	Kate ignored her, "Your name is too close to your
screen name. You will, naturally, be taking Bruce's
last name. And 'Bunny' is a fine middle name."

	"'Bunny' is a nick name." She was looking away,
confused at being so ignored.

	"Don't be silly, I know plenty of women named
'Bunny'. Your first name is wide open." She waited,
"How about Clover? Or Samantha? Alexandria? Emma's
cool."

	"What about Michelle?" Missy turned back.

	"No neither 'Michelle' nor 'Mickey', I think you know
why. It might be best to stay away from 'M's
altogether. There's lots of other good names out
there. I know, 'Foal', that's original. Or Prophecy?
Angel?" she was now counting them out on her fingers;
just listing ridiculous stripper names, names no one
in their right mind would name their daughter much
less themselves, "Savannah? Krystal? Kitten?"

	"'Kitten Bunny'?" Missy's strain face laughed, "how
about 'Bambi'?"

	"Yea," Kate stopped, "I always wondered about the
fascination with that name. If you watched that old
movie you realize that Bambi was a male deer. I don't
think that name would suit you too well. I'm sure,
though, Bruce and you will think of something."

	A silence came over them. Kate noticed, that Missy's
speech was now off - she hit the wrong syllables, as
if even statements were now questions. And her eye
contact was only short and fleeting, like she was now
perpetually lost in her own world and was afraid to
make contact outside it. Now the girl just sat looking
at the pattern on the blanket, "What's the matter?"

	"I'm just thinking about the operation."

	"Back to that again?"

	"There's something you don't understand, something
important."

	"Spit it out then."

	"Well, the normal way the operation is preformed is
to invert my penis to form my pussy. But they can't do
that with me. Bruce is too big compared to how I am,
he would destroy me if they did it that way. They need
to make me wider and deeper so I can accept him."

	"What's that mean to you?"

	"It's just that it seems to, I don't know, imply
something. I mean, Maybe I can accept that I made my
body to please men, I guess," she stopped for a
second, "I must have wanted it all along." She paused,
absorbing her new truth, "It's the only way any of
this makes sense. But this? It means something else,
like my body was made specifically for Bruce. My pussy
would not be just to fuck, it would be made
specifically to be fucked by Bruce. My body being made
for him."

	"Hua? An interesting interpretation, I don't think
I'd have thought of it myself, but we covered this
already. That body, that soon to be cunt, it's already
Bruce's. And, if you 'need' him why not? Maybe, this
wasn't just serendipity. Maybe pleasing Bruce is the
fate you were born to. If all along your body was
meant to be used by him then shaping your cunt to him
is a natural extension of that purpose. You could do
worse then to tell yourself that it's destiny."

	"Destiny?" a soft smile coming to her lips, "Bruce
and Bunny forever, right?" she said almost gleefully,
happy that Kate was giving her an out.

	"Forever and ever; the ultimate wedding ring."

	Missy let out a pained giggle.

	Kate went into a low whisper, "I shouldn't tell you
this, Missy. But you're about to become a mother. Have
you ever thought about kids?"

	Actually, Missy HAD thought about it, and Mike had
fallen so far as it was becoming downright desirable.
Someone to care about, someone with unconditional love
for her. Someone to care about who she was, not what
she could do for them. Someone that needed her as much
as she now needed everybody else. But she always
thought it a pipe dream, after all she wasn't really
equipped for such a venture, "It's not possible."

	"Not in the usual manner, but adoption is there. I
know what you're thinking - an ex-transgender porn
star and Bruce, the way he is, doesn't look good on an
adoption application. But Bob? He's rich and when you
have money you can do anything. You see, the rich
aren't mere mortals. So, he wants to give you a son;
he thinks it would be great fun watching you toil over
another man, nipping at your knees. Bob himself is a
family man, Bob jr., you know. Such a beautiful dark
haired little boy." Kate looked away for a moment,
"Your child? I think he should have light hair like
his mother. It will make it easier when he becomes
like his mother, JUST like her."

	"I...I..." Missy stuttered, "I don't understand."

	"That's the joke! Bob works in such odd ways. He
gives you a son and then fourteen or fifteen years
down the road he gives you a daughter."

	Missy's face descended into a pained confused look,
"That's awful. Why?! Who would do that!? You have to
stop it! I won't be part of it! I'd rather kill the
baby then do that!"

	Kate crossed her arms and constricted her eyes, "You
think you could do that? To look down into the crib
and put a pillow over its face? Is it in you?"

	Missy's mood sombered and she spoke softly, "I've
done lots of things I never thought I would."

	"As for the why?" Kate continued, "Symmetry, I guess.
Bob jr. may need a plaything. And who? Missy, you seem
to be laboring under the misconception that everyone
around the world shares your western values, your
funny need to follow rules and regulations. You make
and follow rules that destroy yourself. But today the
world, the corporate world, is international - a
global village. Like I said the rich aren't mortals,
they're not tied to one country or another, they can
go where the values best suit them."

	"But to do that to an innocent? It's not right; it's
inhuman!" Missy cried in horror.

	"See, we do to others what was done to us OR what we
fear will be done to us. He, well 'we', did it to you.
Things become right because we do and nobody stops
us."

	She stopped, closing her eyes looking for the right
words, "See, once you find you can do something you do
it again and again, it's human nature. How do you
think all that good stuff in history happens - witch
trials, tyrannies, concentration camps and what not?
It all starts with one, something small, then builds."

	"Bruce was right, you're all crazy."

	"/He/ is, Missy. Not me. You see this mall, people
think it's there for the customers, people like Bruce
and you. But there's a whole power structure there
that most people don't think about - clerks and
managers and owners and a lot more levels, nine in
all, most people only see three. Sometimes, a manager
gets too big for his britches and thinks he's an
owner; he gets canned. Some clerks get promoted. And
there can be times when a clerk, by sheer force of
will and guile, makes her own promotion and ends up
owning the whole mall, the whole /fucking/ thing. When
that happens that clerk shouldn't forget the gal that
helped her along the way. Even customers can get a
promotion."

	"What are you saying? Your terms lie, its all double
talk in triplicate. Your logic is all convoluted."

	"Such big words," Kate snapped her tongue with a big
grin, "I was sure that would've been out of you by
now, you are MUCH more resilient then I imagined."

	Kate continued after a pause, "I'm just saying before
I met you, I was nothing. Now I drive a Mercedes,
never really was into nimble little cars. Plus I've
met people I never thought really existed. I was an
art school drop out, wondering aimlessly through life.
But I knew I was meant for more. Back during the
Kuwaiti Conflict, never told you about that did I? It
was February 25th 1991 and a SCUD hit a barracks,
killing over 20 and wounding 91 others. Funny thing
is, a few moments before I had been standing right at
ground zero when I had a feeling out of the darkness
telling me to get out. And now I'm here. I was
protected, providence you might say. I've heard it
happening to others, important people, and it really
happened to me."

	Missy feebly shook her head with a sad confused look
on her face.

	Kate moved on the door jam, "don't worry about Bob.
When you get your son raise him to be like his father.
If in a few years he is delivered up a dark haired
little girl, make her be like her mother. And if the
Father's son turns out like his dad and treats the
Mother's daughter like the father treats the mother;
making her sleep naked and crying at the foot of his
bed? Don't stop it, let it happen."

	"Kate, nooo." Missy said, whining aghast.

	Kate put her finger to her face, "Hmmm? I should
think that would make you happy?"

	Missy again looked at the blanket, lost in her own
mind, "I wouldn't wish this on ANYONE; not Bob jr.,
not Bob himself. This Cursed body, pulling me around
like a dog on an invisible lead. To see it coming and
not be able to stop it, to enjoy it while its
happening, to feel bad afterwards. To have it start
again; wanting it to start. And not just the sex - the
right combination of words, a look in his eye, the
warmth of his body; being held tight, thinking of
nothing else; doing everything to get it for just a
SECOND but knowing it's wrong the whole time - the
punishment of reward. The worst criminal deserves
better."

	"Love." said Kate, "What a mental disease. If I'm on
this earth another seven thousand years I'm still not
going to get it." She shook her head. "Guess that's
why it's called the 'institution' of marriage."

	"Now let's review. You want him, you need him, you
LOVE him," Kate made sure to hit 'love' just to be
clear what their talking about, "and you lied the
first time round; you just admitted you enjoy the sex
too."

	The fact Missy could still show anger really said
something about her, "I can't believe how good it's
gotten." Missy said angrily and whining at the same
time, as if such enjoyment, or admitting such
enjoyment, pissed her off, "If you told me years ago
I'd have laughed, I don't remember what that feels
like anymore. It's different, it's not like making
love to a woman - My whole body, my whole mind, my
whole spirit is engaged. It's like seeing it from the
other side first has given me some insight on how to
make it better for him, his control and it always
being 'wrong' makes it better for me. I smile now,"
she closed her eyes for a second, "It doesn't bother
me like it should." She said making clear both the
problem and who she blames, "My heart no longer races
because of fear, it does it for another reason. He
defines who I am, he puts me there - That's not proof
of his love; that's proof of who I am, where I
belong." Her knuckles whitened, must be painful with
those nails, "where I want to be. It just feels,"
angrily, "soooo good!"

	As she spoke to her confessor she was hitting all the
right syllables. She was so sure of her facts that it
transcended the psychological damage caused by the
repeated, prolonged and intensifying (things not
always written about) trauma of these years.

	"I'm slipping away. All I already want is to be at
his knee, to lie before his feet. I want people to see
us, I want them to know I'm a possession. If even that
last thing were totally under his control, if I no
longer had any definition other then his." She paused,
"I would go insane. I can't control myself now, not
even when I try, what hope have I in the absence of
myself?"

	"Happiness." said Kate, "Not trying, to be and not to
be at the same time that is the trick; 'tis a
consummation and not. Devoutly to be wisht. To sleep
and by sleep to say we end the heart ache. This is the
moment. Ragnarok. Zen."

	"No." said Missy straining to be heard, "you can't do
this. We men aren't made for this, we don't have the
defenses. You have to stop doing it to me, you can't
do it to another."

	"Oh, well." Kate said, "It's going to happen either
way. See, It's all in the Bible, been reading that a
lot lately, right there in the front - Genesis chapter
three. Women should be punished for their mother's
sins and little boys for the father's. It's not so
bad, it's the way it's suppose to be. It's the way it
will be again."

	Missy tightly shut her eyes trying to make the world
go away.

	"It's not always what's beyond good and evil
sometimes it's about what's beyond freedom and
dignity. See, Missy all of the things I said these
years were chicken feed but not all of it's been
rubbish, "she said looking at her feet then back up,
"If you gaze for long into the abyss, the abyss also
gazes into you. And then? It becomes a question of who
the abyss is. Have we been doing the gazing or ARE WE
the abyss. The real facts are that when you fight
monsters, become a dragon slayer, you become a monster
yourself."

	She tilted her head back, looking down, "Does THIS
make you feel any better?"

	"No. It actually makes me feel much worse." Missy
opened her eyes looking down, defeated, "Do you have
to use a razor blade to cut out the parts you like,
can't you just read the whole book. You and Bob
deserve each other. You're a snake, Kate." she let out
a breath like she had finally heard Kate for the first
time, "You really ARE crazy: psychotic."

	"Missy, Missy, Missy," Kate shook her head, "What are
we going to do with you? You have so many things
backwards. Go home, get your balls cut off and, Missy,
be happy. You don't have that bad of a life, your
point of view is just askew. You want to serve the one
you love and he wants that service, you even have a
bit of fame. You get enjoyment from your new purpose
too. All your basic needs have been met. It's not the
life you planned on as a child, that's true of most
people. We could have locked you in a drawer, with
your arms and legs cut off. But, you've been made a
pretty girl, what an AWFUL fate. There's a thousand
girls out there, some men even I bet, that would trade
all they have for what you have been handed. So Missy,
dear, dear, Missy, if you're not happy it's not our
fault, it's yours."

	She waited.

	"Now," Kate shifted, "go to bed, tomorrow morning
I'll have Bruce come pick you up. I'll tell him about
our little conversation too - I hoped you enjoyed your
last time because it WAS, at least as a man. You just
don't seem to get it, you're not Mike anymore!" she
said almost gritting her teeth, "This is no game; it's
your life, forever Missy. It's /never/ going to
change."

	Kate then flipped off the light but Missy could tell
she was still there, waiting in the dark, listening as
Missy began to openly cry.

	"Kate?"

	"What?"

	"It's not right what you've done." She sobbed, "It's
not right." She repeated, "You have to help me," she
sobbed, "I need help," sob, "before it's too late."
Sob.

	"It's too late already, it's been too late for some
time now."

	She sobbed, "Bob and Bruce and you have forgotten,"
sob, "the truth."

	"And what's the truth, Missy?"

	"That all men are created equal." Sob.

	"Yea." Kate let out a sigh, "I'd expect someone like
you to say that."

	She started walking away, "stop looking for 'a change
of mind', because that's YOU; if YOU get what I've
really been saying." Adding whimsically, "Keep turning
one way long enough you end up turning the other, two
wrongs don't make a right but three lefts do."

	Now down the hall, Missy could still hear her
"'Kitten Bunny'? I hope I'm not hearing a come back."

	Almost out of ear shot, "THAT bunch," laughing, "I
can't WAIT for your first PTA meeting."

	And the sissy was left crying in the darkness.

Vulneror, non vincor: data fata secutus, quantum sufficit.

THE END

Copyright 2004 Quiet Savage
quietsavage@yahoo.com
/~qsavage/