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From: J R D <jrdss@micronet.net>
Subject: Domme's Romance (mf, romance)
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Those of you who know my work know me as a TG author.  Well, this is not my
usual work.  Although this story contains some D/s scenes (very few) and
some implied enforced crossdressing, it is, as the title implies, a story of
romance and blossoming love.

And here's to hoping nothing gets cut off, and the message doesn't get
corrupted by my mail program.

Disclaimers:


All characters presented in this story are fictional and any resemblance to
any persons living or dead is totally unintentional.

This story is intended for the perusal of adults, and as it contains graphic
sex and enforced physical transformation, should not be read by minors,
those who live in areas where such material is forbidden by law, those who
have a fundamental problem with the above mentioned material (whether
religious, moral, or opinion based), or those who just don't want to. 

This story is intended for entertainment purposes only and remains the
property of the author, who grants permission for free distribution, but
does not allow the reproduction for purposes of profit.

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

Now onto the story.

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


The DOMMEšs Romance

"He had the nerve to call me abusive!" the woman ranted.  "Me!  His older
sister!  He told me that I made a habit of always doing and saying the thing
which would cause him the most emotional pain I could!  Imagine!"

Jenny Thompson, professional Dominatrix and Dominatrix trainer, replied,
"Just imagine." Of course, had she been of a mind to, she could've pointed
out that the woman was hiring a Dominatrix to abuse her brother in an
attempt to get revenge for his unfairly calling her abusive, but she wasn't
about to blow a potential job by doing so.  "So you want us to kidnap and
feminize him?"

"Just enough to punish him.  I don't want him hurt physically, at least
nothing permanent.  He's been through enough in that way."

"How so?  Was he abused as a child?"

"Oh, no.  It's just that he's got MS.  He's partially disabled because of
it."

"To what extent?"

"He can't walk without a walker, and even with it, he's limited to about 50
feet.  Otherwise he has to use a wheelchair.  Is that going to be a
problem?"

"No, we can still accommodate you.  But, that is going to increase your bill
somewhat."

"Really?  How much?  I came to you because a friend said you could arrange
this at a cheaper price than most."

"Miss Grady, the reason I can offer a reduced price is because I run a
Dominatrix training school.  The price you get is dependent upon the skill
of the trainee.  Now with a handicapped person, there are some extra
difficulties involved.  If the person can't differentiate between the
emotional stresses of being handicapped and being feminized, then the added
stress could break them altogether, leaving a mental and emotional
vegetable.  But if they can differentiate, the fact that they live with the
emotional stress of a handicap means they need more work to break.  In
either case, it's going to require more experience than a non-handicapped
person might require."

"How much?"

Jenny smiled.  "Don't worry.  If the price is too great, we can work out a
payment plan."

"When can you start?"

"We'll kidnap him tomorrow."

***********

THE NEXT DAY...

Randall Grady woke up.  It took him a few seconds to shake off the sleep,
making him realize that he had been drugged.  Usually, he woke right up,
since one of the problems with his MS was that he was unable to get into a
good, deep sleep.  He was also much further from the edge of the bed than
usual.  Normally, he slept close to the edge in order to swing his legs
right off in the morning.

As he started to rise, he felt a hand on the back of his neck pressing him
down to the bed.  A stern, female voice told him, "You were not given
permission to rise."

Randall sighed.  "If I may ask, who am I addressing?"

This surprised the trainee Domme.  She was one of the most experienced
trainees, almost ready to start a "business" of her own, and in her
experience she had dealt with anger, fear, rage, despair, and even fake,
sarcastic politeness, but there had been no trace of any of that in the
man's question.  He had been polite to the point of true respect.  "You may
address me as Mistress Amanda."

Randall managed to get up into a long sitting position.  "Well, Mistress
Amanda, do you mind if I stretch?  If I don't stretch first thing, my body's
a bitch to deal with all day."

Mistress Amanda nodded.  As Randall leaned forward, stretching his
hamstrings, she said, "You're surprisingly respectful."

With his face buried between his legs, he replied, "Before he died, my dad
taught me to always treat a lady like a lady, until she proved herself to be
otherwise.  Although I suppose having my face shoved into the mattress here
might qualify as doing that.  But what they hey, I'm a very forgiving
person."

"Just keep that attitude and I won't have to make your life hell."

At this, Randall stopped and looked up at Amanda.  Now Amanda had expected
one of many things from him, but not what she got.  A broad smile covered
his face, and he started to laugh.  Not a sarcastic or disbelieving laugh,
but an honest, bemused laugh.  The kind one gives when one has heard
something truly funny.  Amanda, angered, demanded, "What's so funny?"

Randall grabbed the back of his legs and said, "Could you step back from the
bed?  I need to swing my legs off and I don't want to kick you."

Without moving, Amanda said, "Tell me what's so funny."

"I'll tell you, but I need to get to the edge of the bed to continue my
stretching."  Amanda didn't move.  "Okay, but you'll be sorry."  Randall
collapsed back on his back.  "To be honest, I find your statement that you
plan on making my life hell to be highly amusing."

"And why is that?"

Randall sighed.  "Since I got this "condition" and wound up needing to use a
wheelchair more often than not, my "friends" have slowly disappeared.  They
"forget" appointments, they don't return phone calls, and when I do manage
to catch them at home, they're usually vague and indirect about plans.  

"Most of my workplace training has been in the realm of physical stuff that
I can no longer do, so now, I'm having to go back to school and retrain
myself in a new field, right alongside kids a decade my junior.  

"My body seems to be stuck between two extremes, either my bowels and
bladder don't want to work at all or I lose any control I might ever have
had, usually in a public place.

"And now, on top of everything, my older sister has decided to have me,
what, professionally punished, intimidated, feminized?"

"Feminized.  How did you know it was your older sister?"

"To tell you the truth, I didn't until just now when you admitted it." 
Amanda cringed inwardly.  It was a stupid, amateur mistake and she had made
it.  "But it wasn't that hard to figure out.  My few female friends are too
nice to pull a stunt like this.  Only my two sisters have a problem with me,
and only my older sister has the contacts, moxie and cruel nature to try a
stunt like this.  My little sister may be nasty and overly sarcastic, but
she's not cruel.

"And as I was saying, with everything that's going on in my life, you have
no chance of making my life hell, for the simple reason that it already is
hell."  Then Randall gave Amanda an impish grin that cut her to the core.

Not wanting to show Randall how much he had affected her, she just said,
"We'll see.  Now get up."

"Can't."

"Are you defying me?" Amanda almost yelled.

"Oh, no.  At least not intentionally.  You see, I felt my hips start to
stiffen and straighten out.  Had I gotten to the edge of the bed, I could've
prevented it from happening, but that would've meant kicking you, and since
you refused to move..."  Randall shrugged.  "So I'm going to need either you
or a stooge of yours to help to get to the edge of the bed and sit up." 
Randall extended a hand to her.

Amanda just looked at it.  "And what would you do if this had happened at
home?"

Randall left the hand where it was.  "If I were at home, one, I wouldn't
have had a tall, statuesque blonde in my way as I swung my legs off the edge
of the bed.  Two, I wouldn't have been as far from the edge of the bed as I
am here.  And three, I wouldn't have slept through the last dosage of my
medication due to being drugged into unconsciousness, and my hips would not
have stiffened as quickly as they did.  Speaking of which, did anybody think
to take my medication with them when they brought me here?"

"You'll get your medication if you behave like a good little girl."

Randall shrugged.  "Your headaches."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"The medication isn't for pain or anything like that.  It's to remove the
stiffness in my body.  Anything, and I mean anything, you want me to do is
going to be about five to ten times harder without it then with.  And, being
completely honest, I don't intend to put any more energy into fighting my
body's stiffness without the meds than I would with them."

"Then I will beat you."

Randall closed one eye and seemed to consider it.  Finally he said, "Okay,
works for me."

"What?"

"You beating me.  That works for me."

"You WANT me to beat you?"

"Want, no. Expect, yes.  You really don't think I plan to make this easy on
you, do you?  I was expecting to be beaten somewhere along the way.  It is
what you do after all.  Now are you going to help me up, or send somebody in
to help me up, because I really can't get up right now without help."

Amanda growled and left the room, leaving Randall to smile that impish
smile.

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

LATER IN RANDALL'S "TRAINING"...

"You want higher heels?"  Amanda asked, incredulous.

"Want is irrelevant.  I'm simply saying you might as well give me higher
heels, because the height of the heel is not a factor.  There is no way I'm
going to be able to manage to walk with the walker in heels of any size. 
One inch, four inch, six inch, whatever inch, it doesn't matter.  I'm going
to fall over and hurt myself.  And since I am going to fall over and hurt
myself, the size of the heel that causes it isn't really relevant, is it?"

"Then I'll put you in the wheelchair."

"Well then my feet will be completely off the ground, and, once again, the
size of the heel will be irrelevant."

"But higher heels will make you look more effeminate."

Randall shrugged in that way that infuriated Amanda.  "So?"

Amanda growled and left the room, leaving Randall to smile that impish
smile.

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

EVEN LATER IN RANDALL'S TRAINING...

"You want to take me to the mall?" Randall asked.

"In full drag, of course."

"Okay."

"You don't have a problem with that, do you?"

"Not in the slightest."  Then Randall gave her that impish smile she hated
and which let her know that he was thinking along lines she couldn't fathom

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