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From: J R D <jrdss@micronet.net>
Subject: {ASSM} Bad Wishing (tg, magic)
Date: Wed, 22 Dec 1999 06:10:01 -0500
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This was a set of stories I originally wrote for FictionMania and its
mailing list, but with that site's demise I decided to post it to the
newsgroups.

Now, onto the boring stuff

-------------------------

DISCLAIMERS

-------------------------

This story contains scenes of an erotic and/or controversial nature, and is
not intended for the perusal of minors.  Further if perusal of such
material is considered illegal in your area or immoral by your religion or
personal beliefs, you should likewise bypass this story.

This story remains the property of the author.  Permission is granted to
download, photocopy, copy and repost so long as any such action contains
these disclaimers, and no attempt is made to profit from this story.

All characters in this story are the creation of the author, and any
resemblance to real persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental.

This story may contain aspects of fantastic science or magic.  The
parameters of what this science/magic can accomplish are completely at the
discretion of me, the author, and, as such, I make no apologies for any
rules of "real" physics, chemistry, biology, or magic that may be broken
within the story.

-------------------------

Now onto the fun stuff

-------------------------

BAD WISHING

Kyle was morose.  He had lost another job, and, once again, it was because
of nothing he had done.  Kyle was a wus.  He couldn't stand up to anybody,
couldn't say no to anybody, and his co-workers took advantage of it.
Inevitably somebody wouldn't do their job right, then they'd bully Kyle
into taking the blame.  And Kyle just went along with it.

Kyle was tempted to stop by the porn shop to get a magazine or two to
uplift his spirits.  His favorites were those Domination mags with the
strong, forceful men and women taking weakling men like him and bending
them to their will.  In his fantasies, Kyle would be the slave of one of
those women (or maybe even one of the men), doting on her every word, and
never have to worry about having to stand up to anyone again.

But sometimes, in some of his fantasies, Kyle actually imagined being the
dominator.  Being a leather clad man with dozens of slaves at his beck and
call.  But that was a foolish dream.  Kyle didn't even have the guts to
stand up to his co-workers, much less be a forceful Dom.  Kyle didn't even
have the guts to follow up on his submissive fantasies and actually contact
one of the Dominatrixes who put advertisements in the back of the magazines
he was so fond of.

Kyle eventually decided against going to the porn shop.  No telling where
is next job would come from or what it would be.  So Kyle just went home.

Close to his home, Kyle took a shortcut through a park and was distracted
from his thoughts by the sound of an angry cat.  Looking for a distraction,
he decided to investigate and found a cat slapping viciously at something
under the plastic play set.  The cat was too large to get under the thing,
but it sure was trying.

Kyle figured the cat had just cornered some helpless mouse, and decided to
show a little compassion toward the rodent.  He stepped up and shooed off
the cat, then said, "There you go, fella.  You better take off before that
kitty gets back."

Kyle was surprised when he heard a voice under the play set reply, "Thank
you kindly, sir.  I'm afraid beasties of the feline persuasion don't take
kindly to the wee folk."  The voice had a slight Irish brogue to it.  The
kind of a person born and raised on the Emerald Isle, but who had spent
decades overseas.

Kyle stood there stunned as a small man, no more than six inches tall,
crawled out from under the play set.  He was dressed all in green and
looked like something out of a fairy tale.  Kyle looked down at the little
man and asked, "Who...  What are you?"

The little man waved his hand and grew to about two feet tall.  "I'm a
leprechaun, of course.  I go by the name Patty.  And since you, sir, have
saved my life, I owe you a gift."

"What?  Three wishes?"

"Nope.  You only get three wishes if you catch me and make me take you to
my gold.  But you do get one wish.  Now if you're thinking of lunging at me
to get three wishes, if you miss, you lose the one you've got."

Actually, Kyle hadn't even considered doing that.  "One wish?  Anything I
want?"

"Basically.  Keep in mind, it's a wish, not a miracle.  So no peace on
earth or something like that.  And if you wish for something material, like
riches, keep in mind that others will wonder where it came from,
particularly your government tax collectors.  Basically, the more localized
the change, the safer it is.  If you could wish for something that would
change only you without a lot of physical changes, that would be best."

Kyle thought about it for a minute.  He could have his fantasy.  He could
be some Dominatrix's pampered, obedient slave.  But he could also have his
other fantasy.  He could finally have the strength to do or be whatever he
wanted.  "I want to be like one of those Doms in the magazines."

"So a personality change?  Well, me buck-o, you got to be a little more
specific.  You need to either describe your new personality or choose a
specific person for me to use as a model."

Kyle thought about it.  Kyle really didn't know enough about specifics to
describe what he wanted, so he'd be better off by choosing someone to be
like, but who?  He thought about all the Masters and Mistresses described
in his magazines, and how they acted, and decided on one in particular.  "I
wish I was just like Mistress Emily, but without any changes to my memory
or who I think I am, and without gaining any desire to get the operation or
anything like that.  Just have a personality like hers."

The leprechaun shook his head.  "Why don't mortals ever think these things
through properly?" he said as he waved his hand and disappeared in a shower
of light.

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

ONE YEAR LATER...

Lisa sat at her desk in the front of the offices of Doctor Sydney Lawrence,
a psychiatrist specializing in Gender Identity Disorders.  She was a temp
on her first day and wanted to make a good impression.

The door to the doctor's back room opened, and a tall, sensuous woman
dressed completely in leather stepped out and walked up to her.  "The
doctor said I should schedule a one month follow up."

The woman was so dynamic, so forceful, that Lisa was stunned into
immobility.  Finally, the woman's eyes looked directly at the appointment
book.  Only her eyes moved, but the woman's presence was so powerful that
Lisa felt as though she were being commanded and quickly took the book and
flipped through it.  "Uhm.  How's Wednesday the third?"

"The third will be fine."

"Uhm.  Your name?"

"Kylia."

"Kylia...?"

"Just Kylia."

"Uh, okay."

Kylia reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a business card.  She
handed it to Lisa and said, "This is my home address.  Be there at 8."

"Uh, I don't think-"

"That's right.  Don't think."  Kylia turned on her heel and left the room.

After she was gone Lisa just stared at the card until the doctor asked her,
"What's that?"

"A card from your last patient.  She... wants me to show up at her house
tonight."

"Are you going to go?"

"I...  don't really have an interest in girls."

"But are you going to go?"  After a few seconds of silence, the doctor
said, "I know.  She's really hard to say no to."

After the doctor walked away, Lisa tucked the card into her purse.  She
didn't plan on going to the woman's house, but, somehow, she couldn't bring
herself to throw the card away.

As soon as Kylia walked through her front door, her feminized house
boy-girl took her coat and hung it up.  She sat down and watched briefly as
her slave went about "his" work, his braless, implant-augmented chest
bouncing freely under his French maid's outfit.  It was one of her guilty
pleasures, watching her slave jiggle.

Kylia wasn't sure about taking him on as a full time slave when he had
first proposed it.  She had only been in the domme business for a week, and
she didn't know whether or not she could afford a slave.  But the returns
had been more than worth it.

She commanded, "Footstool!"  Her slave (Kylia had to give him a name soon)
quickly got on the floor in front of her and rolled up into a ball.  Kylia
put her feet on his back and picked up the stack of mail that her slave had
sorted and placed on the table next to her chair as was proper.  As she
went through the mail, she said, "Later you'll need to go get my
prescription for female hormones filled."

Her slave asked, "Will I be allowed to wear a bra?"

"I was going to have you do that, but for being so impertinent for asking,
I think not."

"Yes, ma'am."

Kylia smiled.  The little boy-girl was trying to sound hurt and
disappointed, but the pleasure she knew he was experiencing was coming
through.  He loved being humiliated and being forced to walk around where
people could see him without a bra to hold up his double D's.  "In fact,"
she continued, "I think you should go in your current outfit."

Her slave cooed, "Yes, ma'am," this time not even trying to sound hurt.

"Another thing, I've got a new girl coming tonight.  I may use you in her
training, so dress in something sexy, but stay in the closet until and
unless I call for you."

"Yes, ma'am."

The girl Lisa probably thought she wouldn't be coming, but Kylia had seen
the look on Lisa's face before.  The girl would be drawn to Kylia like a
moth to a flame.  No matter how much she protested, Lisa would eventually
call Kylia Mistress.  Of course, the first thing Kylia'd have to change was
the girl's annoying tendency to "Uhm" and "Uh" her way through a
conversation.

As Kylia considered what she would do with Lisa that night, she noticed, in
the mail, the current copy of her favorite Domination magazine.  She pulled
it out, setting the rest of the mail aside.  On the cover was a picture of
the woman who "Kyle" had wished to be like.  As Kyle, he really hadn't
known what he was wishing for, but Kylia couldn't really argue with the
results.  She was now well off, had a personal slave (maybe two if Lisa
worked out as well as she thought) and NO ONE pushed Kylia around.

So what if it had required Kyle to spend a year living as a woman before
getting the prescription for the hormones she needed?  She could've gotten
her hormones the same way she got hormones for her slave, but in order to
retain the functionality of her dick, she needed to make sure her body was
monitored by a doctor.

Yes, it would take longer (and probably require implants), but it wouldn't
be too much longer before Kylia was, physically as well as psychologically,
just like Mistress Emily, America's Premier She-Male Mistress.

When your work speaks for itself, don't interrupt.
If your work can't speak for itself, nothing you can say will change that.

J R D
jrdss@micronet.net
ICQ # 37222294

-- 
If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author.  Your comments
are their only payment.  Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is
copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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