Themes: tg, inc, forced feminization

------- Legend -------
*bold*
_This_is_underlined_
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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.

	"... Both parties seem to feel some need of the other:
	for the torturer, it is a sense of omnipotence,
	without which he'd find it hard perhaps to exercise
	his profession - the torturer needs to be needed by
	the tortured; Whereas the man who's tortured finds in
	his torturer a human voice, a dialogue for his
	situation, some partial exercise of his human condition
	he asks for pity, to go to the bathroom, for another
	plate of soup. He asks for the results of a football
	game."

		  Jacobo Timerman, 1981 Torture victim
						from Argentina


"Meat Eater"
By Quiet Savage


	Everyone hates lawyers, true, but John was a
particularly bad one. He did everything a clichéd
scumbag did - defending and getting off guilty A-holes
for a living, coke lines till he couldn't smell and
his favorite poison - whores. John's father was a
hard-core misogynist and John himself despised his
mother's weakness. John viewed the fairer sex simply
as sex toys, as being less than human. He had a
special interest in rough sex. He often took overseas
sex trips where he could explore the depths of his
perverted lust with women who would or could not fight
him.

	But things sometimes change; the monster fell in
love. She was a nice sweet girl who also had a strong
will and knew just when to, as well as when not to,
back down. To say that this woman and their marriage
was good for John would be quite an understatement. He
tried to pull himself together and fly right - not
always achieving it but coming dammed near close.
Unfortunately, it was not to last. Seven years into
the marriage she died of a terminal disease, leaving
John with a 5-year-old son.

	Without his wife's loving devotion and guiding hand
John was soon back to his old tricks. At first he
tried to protect his son from what he was doing but by
the child's twelfth birthday it was clear that he just
did not care, dragging the child to Bangkok and the
back streets of Tijuana, often leaving him in the
hotel alone or worse yet sitting outside a club
waiting for his dad. However, it would be an
oversimplification to say John neglected the child.
There were times when John and his son had a very
close relationship. They both loved motorcycles and
football and a sex trip abroad was a perfect time to
also take in a race or a game. And the child himself
adored his father. He loved spending time with him and
talking on the plane. To him John was a loving
affectionate father; to him John was a god. Even as
strange as it sounds John took the child to these
places out of a misguided sense of duty. After all, in
John's mind, it was better to bring the kid and spend
time with him then to leave him with a nanny or worse
yet at a boarding school. After all it's a well-known
fact those places were a breeding ground for fairies.
And the kid got to see the sites! By the time he was
14 he had seen more of the world outside the US then
most people see in a lifetime. There was even a
thought that seeing what he was doing would toughen
the kid up. John could see he and his son in a few
years high five-ing in a strip joint after banging the
same whore, now that's male bonding!

	And so it was just after his fourteenth birthday
John's son was standing outside a Rio sex club when a
van pulled up. And then, John's son was gone.

	Coming out of the club John was not immediately
worried. He just figured that the child had wondered
down the street, it had happened before. It was no big
deal. So he waited and waited and after an hour he HAD
become very worried. He walked the surrounding
streets, he called the hotel and finally he called the
cops. First the cops were more interested in just why
he had brought his son to such a place, to which John
with a lawyerly zeal defended his right to do what he
wanted. He had done it before without a problem! He
was only in the place for 20 minutes! But then John
was told the awful truth - people are kidnapped in
Brazil all the time, it was an epidemic. This was
quite a shock to John, for all his world travel he had
never been scared or fearful and despite the run down
neighborhoods and dark places he commonly visited it
never occurred to him that he or his son were in any
real danger. After all, America is a big tough country
and those piss ant foreigners were scared if it and
its citizens! The U.S. and its people could go
anywhere they dammed well please and everyone would
just roll over. Or, so John thought. But the idea of
real danger sunk in over the weeks as he repeatedly
met with the police, the military and the US embassy.
The other thing that sunk in was that there was
nothing that anyone could do about it. John was told
that the reason most people are kidnapped is money.
All he could do was wait for the kidnappers to contact
him with a ransom demand, it could take a week or it
could take months. So that's what he did, that's what
he had to do. The note did come, it was short and
cryptic and left both the authorities and John
frustrated.



	We have your son. We don't plan to kill
	him at the present time.

		 Be seeing you!



	That was it! No proof of life, no indication of who
they were and, most oddly, no demands!

===

	Everything was black, the blindfold worked totally
and it never came off. How long was it? A few days?
Weeks? The boy did not know. He had no clear
perception, everything was foggy. He felt weak and
kept drifting out of consciousness. He knew he was
chained but was aware of little else. Sometimes he
could feel people lifting and moving him. Other times
he was spoon-fed but had little ability to chew or
swallow, even these simple tasks required too much
energy. There were things in or on his body but they
were more pressures than pains. Clearly he was being
drugged. His only real conscious thought was that he
could make no sound, not even a moan.

===

	The blindfold was off; he was lying in a bed covered
by a blanket. As he slowly came around he became aware
of his surroundings- it was a small bare white room, a
window, a table, a mirror and a door. There was still
pain and pressure in and on his body. He knew
something was wrong, something different. He felt ill
as he pulled away the sheet. On his chest were two
large mounds, they did not look like normal female
breasts instead they looked like half cut melons.
Still passing in and out of consciousness his next
willful act was to reach for his crouch. Shit! His
head spun, it was gone. He tried to groan to the empty
room and instead felt the air rush through his throat.

	She had finally come to complete consciousness. Too
scared to know what to do she sat on the edge of the
bed in shock. There was a click and the door swung in.
A man in a white suit entered. She sprang up. He
offered her a glass of water and a pill saying that it
would relax her. The young girl tried to speak her
objection but found no sound.

	The man raised his voice telling her in accented
English that, "Here you do what you are told, when you
are told if you want to remain safe." Frightened, she
took the pill and with shaking hands drank the water.

	After taking back the glass he smiled down at her,
"That's better, first you should know your vocal cords
have been cut. It's best if you do not try to speak.
You have many questions, all that matters is - I
brought you here. I'm doing what I want with you. You
have had sexual reassignment surgery. You have been
here a month. The length of your stay depends on your
progress and your attitude."

	He reached into an inside jacket pocket and slammed a
small pile of colored paper on to the table by the
bed, "I know how you American girls enjoy such
things." It was three magazines "Teen Scream", "Teen
Dream" and a teen fan magazine called "Cory."

	Turning back to her, "I will leave you now. You do
all that is required of you or you will be hurt."

	As he closed the door he turned again and spoke very
deliberately, "Yes, also. We don't want to kill you,
but we will if we have to. Here you are nothing."

	The door locked behind him leaving the teen
trembling.

	Over the next few hours the girl explored the room.
There was a small vent high above the bed. The window
was made of thick plastic and faced a brick wall
several floors above a blind alley. All the furniture
was made of plastic covered steel and was very sturdy.

	Wrapped only in the blanket, that's all she had, she
approached the plastic mirror. Her face was the same,
boyish but different somehow; softer, but not by much.
The breasts looked extremely odd - they didn't hang.
They just looked like something shoved under the skin.
But the oddest thing was exploring her new genitals.
She had to touch them but just to be sure they were
real. Her blood ran cold as she slowly manipulated
herself. He was half expecting it to feel numb but was
surprised how it felt part of her. She quickly got
freaked out and slammed herself back on to the bed.
Then came the realization that she had to pee.

	Squatting over a small bucket in the corner was not
pleasant and neither was the uncontrollable nature of
the stream. He used to be able to point his penis, but
this was no longer an option for her.

	As the room dimmed with the setting of the sun she
heard the door mechanism open again. Two men entered -
one was very large. The other, a smaller man with a
goatee, spoke in a thick accented voice, commanded
really, "Carne! Stand up! Bend over!"

	The teen cowered in the corner staring back at the
man. He repeated his statement with the same result.
He then spoke to the large man who proceeded to grab,
then flip the struggling teen over. She felt a pinch
in her butt. Everything became cloudy.

	The next day she slowly woke from a fog. On the table
along with the magazines was a paper plate with a meal
and clothing. She tentatively approached the items. In
a neat pile were a pair of white panties and a pink
tank top with a small red heart on the front. This was
insane! He wasn't going to wear that! But as the time
ticked away she realized that it was better this than
nudity. With shaking hands she pulled the panties up
her legs and the shirt over her head. The panties
didn't fit and hung off her ass and the shirt didn't
fully cover her, exposing her midriff.



===



	It had been three months since his son had gone
missing and John was setting up an apartment in Rio.
He planned to live part time in the apartment and
travel back and forth between California. He wanted to
stay near the abduction site, so the kidnappers would
know that he was close and available. He kept in touch
with the police but they could not move forward
without more information. Besides, they were
overloaded anyway and, John thought, corrupt. He had
explored other options including a private
investigator. But the PI could do little more then ask
around.

	John even went to a psychic, which was a joke - "You
will find your son where you least expect it, what was
once clearly seen is now hidden." Yeah, great! Thanks.

	But leads, and hope, do, in fact, show up where and
when you least expect them. One night while John was
drinking away his troubles in a darkened corner booth
of a strip joint he was approached by a man in a white
suit who introduced himself as the owner of the club.
The man spoke excellent English and he and John made
small talk till the man brought up his son.

	"How do you know about that?" John asked in shock.

	"There is little I do not know." the man replied.

	What came next was an unnerving offer to help. The
man explained that the police were corrupt and
impotent, which John already knew. But there was more.
There was another reason besides ransom to kidnap a
child - white slavery. Children went missing at 8 or
10 and were pimped out to pedophiles. As they grew the
girls were moved to straight prostitution and the boy
sold as "toys" to the wealthy or into hard labor. In
Brazil there was a near endless supply of street
children but usually these people looked for something
more "substantial" and "clean", white children of
foreigners being the most coveted prize.

	"And you are in contact with these people?" John
asked.

	The man in the white suit took a puff of his cigar
and leaned back, "My business dealings, very complex."
He then motioned to the dancing women, "Not all these
women fully chose to be here, some of them needed a
'push'... but what I give them is a rich full
rewarding life, compared to the lives they would have
had dying toothless and used at forty in some slum or
jungle village."

	He turned back to John, "But I never touch children!
The Girls here, they come no younger then fifteen and
not less then sixteen when they work the floor."

	The thought of his son being a "toy" made John sick!
But he could not forget himself; the idea of a white
slavery ring did turn him on.

===

	How long had she been here? Carne (that is what they
called her here) often turned the question over in her
mind. There was no sense of time, only day and night
and too many of those to count. Months? A year? Maybe
more?

	Her body had radically changed. First her breasts,
once stiff mounds had descended and enlarged forming
two fleshy globes on her chest. Her panties no longer
hung empty but stretched full and taught across her
enormous soft jiggly ass. These were effects of the
large amounts of hormones she was injected with and
fed daily but other things had been more work for the
doctor. Her stomach and lower abdomen had been
liposuctioned leaving only a thin layer of fat and
ensuring she would always have a very slim waist.

	The face was a twisted work of art and the most
confusing for Carne herself. The nose job was very
strange indeed - the bridge had been lowered very flat
to the face and the nostrils opened wider. Carne could
feel something under the skin, a hard ring in each
nostrils holding it open wide. A small flap of skin
had been folded in front of her eyes. The baby fat had
been sucked from her cheeks giving them a hollow look.
Her lips  were now very large, surgically enhanced to
maximum fullness. The lips and her now enlarged
areolas were tattooed over a light brown. Her hair was
now dyed a jet black. And her skin was now a deep
brown the dual effect of a deep tan and a bronzing
cream she was forced to apply to herself every few
days.

	All this was to disguise and confuse her true race.
The only thing that the little white boy from
California could see of himself was his dark
greenish/blue eyes and even those were only seen a few
minutes a day before he applied the brown contacts
they forced him to wear. She would often stare long in
the mirror wondering just what they had made of him.
Not black. Not oriental or central Asian. She was
something she had not seen before and all woman; well,
girl.

	All the major action happened out of her sight at
night. The doctor would come in and make her bend over
for an injection (she no longer fought it.) She would
then quickly fall unconscious. Usually she would wake
up the next morning very groggy but none the different
then when she was put down. Those were the best
mornings; each night as the drugs took their effect
she knew it was a crapshoot. The less awkward days
were the ones when she woke up to some pains in her
body, mostly her breasts, anus and her new genitals.
Sometimes she had strange bruises or irritation on her
skin. But other times she would wake up and major
surgery had been performed. On these times she was
chained so, "she would not hurt herself." Even her
tanning took place at night. Though she knew they took
her out of the room each night her conscious mind
never left the room, in all the time she had been in
this place she was never allowed to see any of the
facility outside her cell.

	How long had it been? It really didn't matter, what
worried her most now is where she was going after this
place. After spending so much time, energy and money
they were not going to release her free onto the
street. She did have some idea as she glared at the
cardboard box under the table. It was full of trinkets
- a stuffed rabbit holding a heart, a "hello kitty"
eraser, more teen magazines (each well read, what else
was there to do!), a small make up kit and a dozen
tubes of lipstick, different colors of nail enamel
(currently her fingers and toes were painted a shade
of light yellow) and several dozen other things. All
these things were "gifts" from the man in the white
suit.

	The man was very unpredictable. He would appear every
few days. Sometimes he would launch into an hour-long
monolog on all sorts of topics - world politics, the
nature of men and women, the missed opportunities of
history or just local football. Sometimes he would be
more demeaning like the time he made Carne take off
her top (she never wore more than panties and a top)
and jump up and down. Other times he would just enter
her cell and sit on the edge of her bed reading a
paper as she quietly looked on. The box was testament
to his practice of ending each visit with a small
gift.

	From the talks Carne had extracted some precious
information. The man was a man of means who was bored,
he originally filled the void in his life by
subjugating women but soon found it too easy and
"common." This was till the day when he read a story
about forced feminization. The story captured his
heart, mind and other important organs. But it was
just a story; he would make it real. He took a man who
was smart but struggling and paid his way to a top
medical school. The man, now indebted to him became
the butcher know to Carne only as "The Doctor." On the
surface the doctor was a respectable member of society
but under he was rotten, doing the white suited man's
every bidding without question. This was not the first
time he and the doctor had done something like this.
They had done it many times before. Some were highly
successful, others; mostly early ones; were less so.

	Many, like Carne he pointed out, went quietly into
the night. But "just as some men are women other men
are men." These, for the man in the white suit,  were
the most fun. They fought and cried about what they
had become. They would argue that their bodies were
not their own. The man in white took great pleasure in
devising duties and tasks to prove them wrong. Forcing
them under his thumb. A splash of cum in their new
cunts, across their expanded ass or on their face was
definite proof to an observer of what they were, but
making them smile and thank the cum's owner
compulsively was proof in their own mind. In the end
they all broke.

	Carne WAS different in one way. No longer content
simply with male to female transformations the man
wanted to move forward with something new. The ability
to change a male of one race into a female of another
race intrigued him. It was decided that the best, and
most radical, foundation for such a transformation
would be North Europeans with light skin and straight
features. While all the other male victims were of
local origin, Carne was the first foreigner. She was a
test bed for many of the things to come next. Carne
imagined white male children (or adults) disappearing
and Vietnamese, Central American, Arab, Philippine,
Korean, or even Liberian black females appearing
shortly afterwards.

	"Yes," the man once mused, "there is a skin tinting
procedure, similar to full body permanent makeup, I
wish to try out."

	Luckily for Carne he was not yet ready to be that
ambitious, the skin stain was enough for now. Carne
was also the first to have her vocal cords cut. The
man in the white suit and the doctor could not figure
out a method to force a foreign tongue or accent onto
their victims. Permanently shutting them up was the
next best thing.

	What Carne didn't know was that the men were
feminized on a sliding scale. The less they fought the
more "womanly" they should be. For men that scratched
and bit and pounded on the door for days or tried to
harm their new bodied a small waif body was all that
was required to shame and humiliate them completely.
It was enough to know that they had a pussy and
breasts. Carne was so calm and compliant. Only a few
times had they had to get physical with her and she
never merited a serious beating. The doctor made a
note of the fact that the very first day, the first
day mind you, that she was given nail enamel she used
it. Many of the women went weeks before attempting to
apply it, others  were so resistant that they had to
be threatened with force before they applied it. The
doctor chucked it up to a mix a youth (younger men
came around easier) and the strange lack of machismo
in the American culture. He then upped her hormone
level. To Carne it was simple - she was bored and it
was something to do.

	To the man in white it was also simple - after
handing over a small vile of perfume he looked down at
her full B-cups poking through her shirt and said,
"Those breasts don't suit you."

	A few days later Carne was sporting near Double D's.

===

	Over two years since the original disappearance had
gone by. John now drifted back and forth between his
home in California and his apartment in Rio. He now
exclusively spent his time at the man in white's club.
Not only had the man kept hope alive, but now
everything was free! The drinks, the food and the
women all free! John figured that the man wanted to
help and failing that offered him this as
compensation.

	Another benefit was that the man and John had now
become fast friends - their world views were so
similar. John had always been the "bad boy" but this
man? He was off the hook! In public even in his own
club he was a class act - well spoken, friendly and
clean. But John had seen the other side was well. Once
as John was getting a blow in a back room the whore
pulled her mouth away at the last moment causing John
to shoot his load onto her body and the floor. As John
pulled up his pants he felt a hand pull him back. The
man in white stepped forward and slapped the still
kneeling whore across the face and began to berate her
in Portuguese. The whore, trembling, knelt forward
sticking her tongue out and slowly licked the stray
cum from the dirty floor. John smiled, it was
comforting to find someone like himself.

	The man turned to John, "Will not happen again. This
girl makes a lot of money for her family. She knows
better than that."

===

	Carne's final measurements  were in, 97-60-92cm
(38-24-36in). How the  hormones and other drugs had
worked  were beyond reason, it was less like forcing
the male body to take female shape than bringing a
natural female forward from it's male shell. At 1.7
meters (5'5") and at sixteen the doctor was sure she
had stopped growing. 61kg (135lb) was a little
overweight but Carne carried it well, she was a very
"hippy" full girl. The breasts  were simply
incredible, despite their size on her small frame they
looked and hung naturally. But her best feature, at
least for the doctor, was her skin. The pink stained
brown produced and even and flawless color. It turned
the Doctor on very much.

	Unknown to Carne or the man in white the Doctor had
been fucking her on a regular basis. Twice a week she
was removed from her chamber at night to have her
pussy dilated and anus stretched. These times  were
his opportunity, douching the unconscious girl
afterwards to remove the evidence. He had done it with
other girls before but there was something about Carne
that kept him coming back to cum again.

	Carne unaware, that this was her last day in this
place, sat up on her bed reading "Care and Feeding of
the Male to Female Transsexual Genitals." The Stack of
papers had been given to her a few weeks ago by the
man in white. The paper about caring for her genitals
had been "dumbed down" to her reading level but there
were still many words in it that she did not
understand. This was the third or fourth time she had
read it.

	As she heard the door lock being thrown she placed
the document on the table and with a grunt (the
limited vocal ability she had recovered) she pushed
herself off the bed. She knew the drill and was
already bent over her bed when the doctor fully
entered the room. To her surprise the doctor pulled
her panties down farther then normal. Then proceeded
to give her ass a quick slap! As he watched the wave
of jiggle flow from one side of the cheek to the other
the Doctor considered how much he would miss this
girl. Carne felt the familiar prick then lay down on
her bed as the grogginess overtook her.

===

	"Something is dramatically different." was Carne's
first thought as she came around; the bed was so much
softer. The room was very similar in size and shape to
where she had been. There was a small table, lamp and
dresser. But there was no window and the room was
gaudy, the walls being covered in red with gold flake
wallpaper. The bed was larger, softer and had a high
wrought iron headboard. Instead of a door there was a
velvet curtain.

Carne lifted her wrist eyeing a pair of leather
bracelets. They seemed to have no beginning or end,
just a solid band of leather encircling her wrist and
in each there was imbedded an iron d-ring. Carne could
also feel a similar band around her neck.

	With such a limited view she was soon focused on the
sounds of her new surroundings, panting, moaning, and
cries of lust. From time to time she could hear men
and women walking the hall speaking a language she
didn't understand. Carne knew where she was - a
whorehouse. She pulled the coverers over her naked
body and rolled into a fetal position fearing what was
to come next.

	Her fears  were soon rewarded. She heard a familiar
voice coming down the hall and the curtain was flipped
open, it was the man in white. He was speaking to
someone behind him, "She is very interesting, you will
find this most rewarding."

	Then in from the curtain stepped another man. Carne's
eyes widened as she recognized her father! She sprung
from her bed not caring about her exposed nakedness
and through her arms around him pushing her large
breasts into his chest.

	John looked down at the dark creature embracing him,
"Frisky isn't she?"

In her enthusiasm Carne had forgotten how much her
appearance had changed since he last saw his father.
And the growing tent in John's pants was evidence that
she was unrecognizable.

	The man in white pulled them apart and in one quick
motion he grabbed her two delicate wrists, he bound
and locked them to the ring under her chin. Next her
knees buckled as the man in white kicked her legs out
from under her. A new sense of terror gripped Carne as
she looked up at the two men discussing her situation.
It was the first time she fully realized what her body
had been made for; she was not just a girl, she was a
sex object. She wanted to cover herself, to hide her
large breasts, to protect her pussy. But she now could
do neither.

	"She comes from an English speaking island. She
though? She does not talk. Brain damage maybe?" The
man in white, shrugged his shoulders and continued,
"Such a girl is useless and an embarrassment to her
family. She came at a very good price." He then drew
out his next few words slowly, "Her implants are worth
more than the total of the rest of her."

	"She is young and fresh, very few partners. And, as a
friend, I want you to have her. As your personal
girl."

	The site of the weak buxom girl on the floor had made
John rigid, but her being his was nearly too much. The
men continued to discuss the situation to Carne's
horror. The girl would continue to live in the club;
it was more secure, till she was fully and completely
"broken." John would "teach" her from the ground up to
be his. Then she would move to John's apartment as a
maid and sex toy.

	Losing his son was terrible for John but meeting this
man, it was a stroke of luck he could hardly believe.
It was like one of those insane stories one reads
about in a cheap porno novel or an S&M story on the
Internet. But this was real, it was really happening.

===

	John's eye's rolled back into his head as his cock
moved in and out of the sixteen-year-olds mouth. The
tears streaming down her face only increased his
pleasure. He had treated her violently, forcing her
shocked face into his crouch and her mouth over his
cock. That look, the look of pure terror as though
this was "so" incredibly wrong, was priceless. But,
John thought, she'll learn. Already she had stopped
resisting babying his cock with a gentle suction, this
chick was a natural, as though she was born to suck.
He grabbed her head and held it as he came in her
mouth. He then demanded she swallow.

	John lay spent on the bed beside his new possession.
Over a few hours he had used and abused each of her
holes. The girl was such a baby, the whole time
keeping up a constant steam of tears. It's not like he
didn't take her into account somewhat, he'd use plenty
of lube to bang that tight ass. And the man in white
was right, she was fresh - her cunt was virgin tight!
All went extremely well for his first time with his
new pet.

	Lying on the bed it struck John how insecure this
place was. Sure the guards and bouncers would keep
Carne from running off but John couldn't be here all
the time and anyone could come through that curtain.
The idea of a constant stream of men doing her didn't
exactly turn him off, but this sassy little thing was
his - his to train, his to mold.

	Carne lay still as she felt her father get up to
leave. A strange dissociation had overtaken her. It
was all so unreal. Being turned in to a girl was bad
but being forced to have sex with her father, by her
father was too much. Before she had secretly hoped for
rescue, or just some kind of kindness or compassion.
But now, after being held down and having her father's
rod forced into her? Her mind had been made blank. It
was beyond humiliation or shame, she felt herself
going insane.

	But Carne had no idea how bad it would get, she
continued to lay motionless as she heard her father
return.

	"Get up, Carne!" John commanded.

	Submissively she rolled off the bed. John had visited
the "toy" room and held his prize before Carne's wide
eyes. It was a leather harness designed to go around
her waist and between her legs. Hanging from the cross
piece  were two lewd devices, each held on by steel
rings. The first a simple short pink dildo designed to
go into her cunt. The other held up for Carne's close
inspection, more interesting. It was a pink rubber
butt plug molded into the form of a human penis
complete with raised veins.

	"No, father! DON'T PUT ME IN *THAT*! Can't you see
who I am! Can't you see I'm your son!?" Carne screamed
in her mind.

John reached for the lube.

===

	Carne heard something behind her, but paid it no
mind. Not only was her ass and cunt still sore from
the pounding her father had given them, but they now
both had devices locked in them. And her mind was
still spinning from the fact that those objects were
put there by her own father.

	Someone behind her cleared her throat and in a
feminine voice asked, "Carne?"

	Carne rolled over to see a lady in a maid's uniform
standing beside the bed. She was perhaps 26; petite
with a round dark face, which was framed by her
cleanly cut and styled black hair. Her breasts  were
held high and together exposing a deep cleavage. Her
outfit, complete with a little hat, was a sexier
version of the classic French Maid's uniform. She
introduced herself as "Gato" from the kitchen staff
and said she had brought food.

	"English, yes?" the maid asked.

	Carne just stared empty at her.

	Gato held her hand up, triumphantly spreading her
fingers apart, "I speak four languages." she said with
a big smile on her face. Carne thought that this girl
was very proud of herself and rolled over to stare at
the wall.

	In the absence of any response the woman continued,
"I don't get to speak English with the girls very
much, mostly the men speak it." And again with pride,
"I help! Language is very good skill."

	Getting no response the older woman shrugged her
shoulders and left saying that she would be back to
get the tray later.

	When she returned Gato found the tray of food
untouched and Carne unmoved. Gato lowered herself onto
the bed beside the girl and lightly shook her shoulder
repeating "Carne" over and over till the girl rolled
over and their eyes met.

	"Every girl has a bad first day, you will soon be use
to it. And you can better yourself!" Gato smiled
broadly, "look at me I started as you, then I learn to
dance and speak and cook, now only I must do the men I
choose, I have responsibilities and am trusted and I
get to wear this smart uniform," she then modeled to
show off her outfit, "it is nice? Yes? AND..." She
thrust her wrist out displaying a gold watch. To Carne
it looked cheap; maybe $20USD off the street, but it
was shiny with faux diamond chips. She continued, "My
BOYFRIEND gave me this."

	She then shifted and played with the watch, "Well,
not my boyfriend, really. But he asks for me every
time and only for me. He's not like the OTHERS!" She
stressed the word as she stroked the watch, "So gentle
and kind," with a big grin she added, "he even brings
me flowers."

	Her attention back to Carne, "Is not so bad being a
girl here, being pretty, being wanted. Being desired
is very important."

	Carne was still lost in her own world; she had no
interest in what this woman was talking about. She
certainly had no interest in a boyfriend. Carne rolled
over again and let Gato babble on till finally she got
board and just left.

	This was the first night she had not been given drugs
to sleep. But finally, late at night, to the constant
cries and moans; her face still wet with tears and the
feeling of dried cum on her body, she drifted off.

===

	Early the next morning Carne was awakened by a man
she had never seen before. He gave her high waisted
panties and a lace trimmed bra. Carne fumbled with the
bra, it had been the first time she had been given
such a garment. The support felt good but the shameful
fact that she needed the support made her feel
ambivalent about it. The man led her down the hall,
past rows and rows of curtains to the bathroom. He
produced a key and unlocked her chastity belt. He then
made her douche and give herself and enema. After a
quick shower she was made to relube herself and lock
her belt back on. She was then given two hormone
pills. Her transformation complete, she now only
needed a small maintaining dose.

	And so the routine went, day after day. Each morning
she was cleaned and each night her father would dirty
her. Every few days she would restain her skin and/or
touch up the roots of her hair. For her part Carne was
numb. Her body was numb from the constant sex and
abuse she experienced at the hands of her father. She
was more then happy when he would go home to the
United States, leaving her for weeks, so her body
could recover. And she was so used to having the butt
plug and dildo in that it actually felt painful when
she removed them each morning.

	Emotionally she was just as numb, she spent all her
time each and every day in bed blankly staring at the
wall or ceiling. There were no teen magazines to read
here. Her only distraction was visits by Gato. Twice
daily Gato would drift in delivering food. She would
also deliver a heavy dose of philosophy - mostly about
how great it was to be a girl, to be pretty and to be
a prostitute. She was creepily upbeat - when she saw
Carne's chastity she went off about how awesome it
was. It was great, Gato said, to be wanted so much by
a man that he would lock her into that, protecting her
from all other men. Carne should be very happy!

	 And Gato sure knew how to run her mouth! Carne got
the feeling she was the kind of girl no one ever
listened to so over compensated by talking more, which
in turn made people want to listen to her even less.
But Carne with her own vocal cords cut and her
emotional numbness could offer no resistance, giving
Gato a free hand to go on endlessly. Gato would tell
stories about the customers, TV and movies. Her
position in the club hierarchy actually allowed her to
go see movies, mostly romantic comedies. Of course,
she was required to be escorted on theses outings. She
would also tell stories about the other "girls",
apparently Gato was not popular, well liked or even
accepted by the other whores.

	Under Gato's relentless pushing some things about
Carne had changed. Gato convinced her to not lie in
bed stark naked and disheveled, "A pretty girl should
wear pretty things."

	Carne now always wore matching bra and panties all
the time. Gato even convinced her to wear stockings
and garters. And when given the choice Carne, under
Gato's direction, always chose the most feminine of
under garments, preferring pinks and whites over more
conservative blacks or racy reds. Nearly all her
undergarments featured small lace roses. But all this
was a side issue - after fitting her feminine
undergarments to her large chest and over her hips
Carne would just lie down in bed to stare at the wall.

	One day while sitting on Carne's bed running a brush
through the girl's long dark hair, a now common
occurrence, Gato couldn't take it any more. The girl
was incorrigible and needed shocked back to reality.

	She spoke softly, "Carne, poor Carne" She then looked
at the velvet curtain worriedly and bent over to
whisper in the girl's ear, "Carne, I have something to
tell you, I have a secret."

	"I have a secret", she repeated, "they beat me the
last time I told, but Carne, quiet Carne, can keep a
secret." Carne just sat there fixed, but the next
sentence got her attention.

	"This is not my body, I was once a man." Their eyes
met, "Is true! It was years ago - I was seventeen and
a member of a good family and had a beautiful girl of
my own; we were to be married." Gato then grew silent,
her smiling face quickly growing sad as the memories
flooded back. A tear rolled down her cheek, "I was a
virgin."

	She swallowed deeply, the strain of revealing the
truth long hidden was overwhelming, "Then I was taken
away, I was given these..." she pushed her breasts up
and together, "now I am this. And I am NOOOO virgin."
She drew out the "NO" almost comically shaking her
head to emphasize the point, then looked away.

	She bit her lip and tried to fake a smile that
quickly faded. Not finding the strength to compose
herself she pushed on, "It's awful, very bad!
Everyday, I was... I am... judged. If not feminine, I
was punished severely. If I didn't smile and choose
pink and bows I was punished."

	For the first time Carne felt compassion for Gato and
placed her hand on the woman's shoulder only to have
it slapped away.

	She was now balling outright and talking very loudly,
"No! You don't understand. Carne's a girl! I am not!
Men are disgusting brutes who take what they want, but
you? That is normal. Me, it is not."

	She then quieted down, "Worst? They changed my mind
not just my body! I fear masculine objects."

	She went on to describe a time a man had brought her
a car book wanting her to pose like a photo of a girl
in it. She could not hold the book she shook so hard.
Another time a man had left a tool in her cubical, she
was so frightened by this mechanical object, this
"tool of a man" she quickly flung it out the door.

	She then lapsed into her feminine philosophy, "I have
other tools now- my ass, my mouth, my breasts, my...
", she paused, "pussy," she paused again, "my cries,
my moans," again she stopped and took a much longer
pause, "my submission."

	She let out a fast breath, "Mary!" she prayed, before
turning back to Carne. As she gazed into the eyes of
the exotic beauty, Gato's own eyes  were tiny slits,
"I was going to go to university! I was going to be an
engineer. Now I fear simple tools!" with one last push
of emotion she cried out, "I WAS GOING TO BE
SOMEBODY!"

	The two girls sat on the edge of the bed, both
mentally exhausted - one from revealing a long hidden
truth the other from feeling emotions that could not
be expressed. Carne wanted to cry out that she
understood more then Gato could or would ever know.
Instead she sat there looking at Gato and Gato sat
looking at the floor.

	The tears now dry and a smile returning to her face
Gato again turned to Carne and spoke in a quite
whisper, "When Carne was a small girl did she dream of
one day having her own man and large family?"

	Carne did the only thing she could, smiling and
nodding in the affirmative. Gato was now fidgeting
with her gold watch, "When I was a girl..." she
stopped, "...a young man, I wanted a wife. Many kids.
Many sons." She played with the watch then said
something very strange, almost in a subaudible
whisper, "Mother Gato, daughter Carne and husband
makes three."

	Carne watched the now composed Gato rise and daintily
walk out of the room.

===

	The next few weeks continued as they had before. John
returned from America and was visiting Carne nightly.
The belt had actually come in handy. One night a large
drunk man stumbled through Carne's curtain, he pulled
her from her bed but was unable to remove the belt. He
could only force her face down into his crouch. It was
a disturbing incident but somehow getting off with
only a blowjob didn't seem so bad, especially
considering the man's girth. The only thing that
really changed was the friendship between Carne and
Gato.

	Carne tried to smile in Gato's presents more often,
to look interested when she talked and generally tried
to reciprocate Gato's warm feelings. Carne now
understood that Gato was not an insane "happy hooker",
but a real person who was damaged. In fact she now
respected and understood Gato's philosophy - if she
was forced to be feminine, to fear all things
masculine, she would accept it and take it to the next
level. A philosophical system based on femininity, a
logical system of beliefs on the advantages of being
as feminine as possible was more than an ego defense
mechanism, it was a work of genius.

	"Yes," Carne concluded, "Gato is a genius."

	One night Carne was healing from a particularly rough
session with her father when Gato came in, tears were
in her eyes as she threw the food on the table, "I
asked him."

	The tears were dripping it to the food, "I asked
him." she repeated again, "I asked him to buy our
freedom. I said I could cook. I said we could be a
family. I said I would be a good wife." She inhaled
deeply "I told him I loved him."

	Gato turned to her friend, "He laughed at me! Called
me a silly girl! Said I just a whore!"

	Carne jumped up to consol her friend, "These tools...
They are not enough; I cannot improve out of this! As
good as it gets, no better!"

	"Carne can not talk. But Carne tell me, I've been
good? I've been feminine? I have lived this life as
best I could? I've been more woman than any other?
I've done everything right? Tell me this, Carne." She
then sobbed forward slamming her little fists into the
table, "I've earned something of my own!?! Haven't
I?!?"

	Carne did not know how to respond. She moved her
friend around. When they were face to face she moved
forward, their lips and tongues entangled. It wasn't
planned, it just seemed to happen. To an onlooker it
would have been a very lewd site indeed - two women,
one in a sexy maids uniform and the other a busty teen
in lace lingerie, locked in a long passionate kiss.

	To Carne it was her way of silently saying, "I am
yours, if you want me."

	The kiss, for the first time since his abduction made
Gato feel like a man. His lips, instead of being a
passage for something hard and rigid, were touching
something soft and sensual. In that moment he knew his
own body, soft and sensual itself, was not the body of
a man, the man he knew he was.

	As their lips parted Gato cast her eyes down, "This
watch is all I have. It is Carne's, she is my only
friend."

	She pushed the watch into Carne's hand then walked
out leaving Carne alone and somewhat confused about
what just happened.

	The next day Gato did not appear, another women in a
uniform delivered her first meal. When the woman came
with the second meal Carne grabbed her as she
attempted to leave. She waved the watch in the woman's
face and somehow she got the message.

	"Gato?" she asked. Carne nodded in agreement.

	The woman looked at her feet and whispered, "O
suicídio."

	Carne shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. The
woman walked over to the meal tray and picked up the
plastic knife. She then made two quick strokes in the
air over her wrist. She then made a slashing motion
across her throat. The horrible truth then dawned on
Carne, her friend had committed suicide.

===

	Over the next few weeks Carne tried to make peace
with what had happened. The new woman did not speak
English and had no interest in the girl. Again Carne
had become numb.

	One day after returning from her morning cleaning
Carne found a floral pattern dress on her bed. The
sheer fabric clung to her figure and was so thin one
could see through it. The neck swooped low giving a
good view of her cleavage. A lock was placed through
her wristbands fixing her arms behind her back. A dog
leash completed the outfit.

	Carne squinted as she saw the sunlight for the first
time in a long time. She next noticed the people
staring at her, staring at the buxom woman being lead
on a leash to a car. But, by this time Carne was
beyond shame. She pushed out her enormous breasts and
with a straight back followed the man in the white
suit.

===

	John paced back and forth in the living room of his
apartment. It was incredible! After years the man in
the white suit had come through - his son was coming
home! The white slavery ring was willing to part with
his son for a mere $70,000USD. The money sat in a
briefcase by the door waiting to be handed off.

	Finally the door buzzer rang. The man in the white
suit entered, he was followed by his "gift" to John.
John anxious to get his son immediately handed over
the briefcase. The man handed over a large padded
envelope then a classy leather folder saying it was
the key to finding his son. John flung the book open
and began to flip the pages. His eyes became enormous
saucers. He then dropped the book and, lightheaded,
braced himself against the wall in a fit of dry
heaves. The book was a picture book, a series of
photographs illustrating a story. The first of the
series was a B&W of his son lying unconscious on a
metal table; the next was of the child with his penis,
what John first thought, hidden. Each surgery, each
change, had it's own photo all cumulating in a full-
page color photo of John fucking Carne from behind. He
looked over at the creature he had been banging for
the past six months; John's son was home.

===

	John looked at the documents and papers spread out
across the table. Carne, or his son, was standing out
on the balcony overlooking the city. There were two
ways John could go from here. First, go to the police
with the leather bound photo album. He imagined the
police swooping down on the sex club, busting everyone
and the man in white getting exactly what he deserved.
But John was not confident in this plan, after all,
this man was already far above the law. This plan also
had serious drawbacks for both him and his son or
daughter, OR WHATEVER. John imagined the worldwide
scandal of an American boy forcibly being turned into
a racially ambiguous girl. He imagined the
investigative reports and tabloid headlines - "Boy
turned in to girl, then raped by father!" all with a
picture of John swatting a camera away. This would be
something that followed him and his son for the rest
of their lives. And, just as important, while those
involved may get justice, it still wouldn't change
anything, what was done was done forever; there was no
going back for the son he lost. Was it worth risking
more destruction?

	The other way was the easy way out. No one needed to
know anything about this. He had not reported the
impending homecoming of his son to anyone, he had been
instructed not to. This option was made very
attractive by the man in white himself. Along with the
papers on how to care for the girls new body, a
formula for skin stain and an exhaustive list of each
and every procedure; surgical or otherwise; that had
been preformed on the girl was a set of "official"
documents. There were Brazilian citizenship papers, a
passport and an American visa for Carne to visit the
United States for medical reasons. There was also a
letter from the "American Christian Medical Fund"
stating that the mute girl had specialist in America
waiting to restore her voice. The letter was a fake
but all the papers seemed pretty solid.

	Carne was coming through the glass door. A man on the
street had noticed the hot girl on the balcony and was
calling for her to come down. Embarrassed, the girl
retreated inside. John watched his son sway her hips
as she crossed the room. The decision was made; he
could not deal with THAT being called his son. They
would not be able to pick up where they had left off
but, John thought, they could live a fairly "normal"
life. John could claim that the girl was an
illegitimate daughter or even an illegal maid. They
would work out the story when they got home.

===

	They had made it just fine into the United States.
Carne was now set up in the room he lived in when he
was John's son. It was no longer the room of a rough
and tumble young boy but with a woman's touch had
changed into the soft and light room of an older teen
girl. Carne's skin had now reverted back to its
original color, which now made her transformed face
look all the more odd. Her hair had grown out and now
clearly showed blond roots.

	John had begun to accept what had been done to Carne
and himself. In fact, he had begun to accept it so
completely that he was beginning to resent the
daughter he now had. There was nothing of his son he
could recognize and identify with in this person. This
was not his boy who now had a girl's body but a girl,
Period!

	The day after they had gotten home John had taken her
out to get clothing. She walked right past the cotton
panties and cheap mass- market bras to the lace and
patterned undies of the lingerie section. And the girl
actually bought garters and stockings! This wasn't the
40's; no women actually wore those things these days.
And the other clothing she bought  were no better -
light pastel colors and all girly girl. She didn't
even buy a single pair of pants.

	When John asked her about these choices she
commented, through a pad she now constantly wore
around her neck, that she was a girl now and she
needed to be appropriately feminine. But she wasn't a
girl? Neither of them had chosen it, but yes, she was
a girl now. John countered that her choices should be
more about comfort or fitting in with the other girls
of her age group - wouldn't she be more comfortable in
jeans and a T-shirt? NO! NO! NO! The girl insisted,
femininity was the key.

	She then wrote a whole paragraph about some friend
she had back in the bordello who had some ideas that
seemed valid... or something. It was too long for John
to read or care. What had they done to my little boy?
They not only changed his body but also had driven him
insane. He was free now. He was free to make his own
choices, and still, he chose femininity. The more she
slipped into feminine ways the more John resented her,
to him femininity was weakness.

	Another issue was the men. With no other woman in his
life had John been so keenly aware of the eyes of
those around him. And instead of learning to accept it
or dressing down to avoid it, Carne seemed to look to
him for protection. She once squeezed his arm so tight
his circulation was cut off. The worst part though is
John knew how they felt. As the once sickening news
that this was his son slowly became accepted by his
mind, so too did his old feelings about her slowly
return. At first it was flashes of lust as she bent
over or smoothed  her dress a top her breasts and then
he found himself contemplating her powerlessness and
her dependence on him. As his attraction to her
increased so did his attachment to the idea of doing
something about it.

	Carne was totally unaware of the dynamic nature of
her father's lust. The retching, the sickness he
initially displayed, the fact he had not touched her,
made any indication of their past or his feelings had
convinced her that her father could be trusted, within
reason. She still knew not to go prancing around the
house topless but as time went by she became more and
more comfortable, and bolder.

	That was the situation on both sides when things came
to a head. Carne had just come in from the pool,
dressed only in a bikini. Had she noticed her father
observing her before hand she would have covered
herself with a robe or a towel. She stretched across
the kitchen island to reach a piece of fruit. She
didn't realize the danger she was in when she heard
her father enter the room behind her. He had had
enough, he couldn't take it anymore. In John's lust
crazed mind, it was time to take what was his.

	He forced her down onto the counter. She swung wildly
behind her but was easily controlled. Her bikini
bottom was ripped off exposing her waiting sex. Within
arm's reach was the cooking oil; extra virgin olive
oil seemed too ironic. He was soon in her. Pounding
her. Forcing her up off her feet. Forcing her legs
into the sharp corners of the counter. By the time he
had finished using her she had stopped struggling.

	How could he do it? In her mind Carne had forgiven
him because he didn't know what he was doing. But now,
he knew. He knew exactly what and who she was and
still he does this!

	Oh, here comes the water works! John glared down at
the half naked heap on the floor before him, oil and
cum still dripping from her cunt. She was franticly
writing something on her pad.

	He ripped the tablet from her neck, "We don't need
you 'talking' anymore!"

	He then sent the tablet sailing across the room,
hitting the wall and landing in the corner. It read a
single word, "Please..."

	He then grabbed her arm and dragged her across the
floor to the broom closet. She heard the door lock
behind her.

	A few hours later Carne was being led down the stairs
to a basement storage unit. John had cleaned out the
boxes. Under the fluorescent light she could see that
it had been converted into a makeshift cell. There was
a sleeping mat with a pillow and blanket on the
concrete floor and otherwise the room was empty. The
door was closed behind her and pad locked.

===

	At first John had felt somewhat guilty about what he
was doing. But as time went by his guilt began to
matter less and less. How could something so wrong
feel so good! He thought, "If it makes you happy it
can't be THAT bad."

	Carne kept in motion with the music, she had
practiced to this song before and knew just when to
bump her hips and grind. She moved slowly over to her
father, there was a broad smile on each of their
faces. His was from ecstasy, her's from the fact that
expressing unhappiness was simply not allowed. Her
hair was black and her skin was stained a deep brown
again. Gone were all the feminine clothing she had
chosen. If she didn't know how to dress then I'll
dress her, John thought. There were no pinks or lace,
only "slut wear" - open top demi cups and hot pants.
Her moves were courtesy of the video, "Amateur
Stripping for the Wife: How to Get In Shape and Please
Your Man." It was one of the many videos and books
John had given her.

	Carne had now accepted, if reluctantly, that this was
the way her life was to be. John knew this and had
long ago accepted the girl into his bed. The cell in
the basement was now just a threat or there when he
wanted her out of the way. Each morning he awoke to
her mouth working his shaft and each night she went to
sleep with a "deposit" of John's in one of her other
holes.

	Father and son have never been closer.

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