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Subject: Biochemistry: The Prequel (tg/tg, tg/f) (1/2)
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Finally, I got this story finished.  To be honest I had no idea it'd be
this long.  But here it is, the story of Samantha, and how she became
what she was in the original story.


If all has worked according to plan, the original should've made repost
to the list at the same time as this.


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.


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


Now onto the fun stuff


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


Biochemistry:The Prequel  Pt. 1


Samuel Nevada had a secret.  A secret so hidden even he didn't know
about it.  But that's getting ahead of the story.


Sam had just finished the last of his finals in his Law classes and
with only one year left before he could take his BAR had decided to
celebrate by bar hopping that night.  Dressed in his best "cruisin'"
clothes he had gone from bar to bar, looking for a woman to take home
and fuck.  Usually, he didn't have a problem with it, but tonight, all
the women seemed resistant to his best advances.


He had made it to a strange bar on the far side of town and was about
to go home when he saw her, a tall (at 6', she stood 4" over him),
statuesque brunette with big tits (easily a D cup) and a figure to
match.  He walked over to her.  "Hey, babe, come here often?"


She turned to him and gave him an inquisitive look.  "Often enough. 
Why?"


"Well, I was just wondering what your plans for the night were."


She looked him up and down.  "Oh, I don't know.  Find some guy, take
him home, ply him with drinks and then have long, satisfying sex. 
Interested?"


Sam was shocked and intrigued.  Never had he found a woman so forward
and open about sex.  Most seemed content to just let him take the
lead.  This one seemed strangely... refreshing.  He extended his arm to
the lady.  "With a woman as beautiful as you?  Most certainly."


The woman took his arm and started leading him outside.  "I'll drive." 
Sam was flabbergasted, but allowed himself to be lead outside.  The
woman walked him to an expensive sports car that must have cost her
easily in the $40-50,000 range, making Sam glad that they hadn't
returned to his own used car.


The woman opened the passenger door for him.  Despite the strangeness
of it, Sam allowed her to help him into the car.  She closed the door
behind him, then got in on the driver's side.


"Wait a minute," he said, "what about my car?"


She gave him a smile that melted him inside.  "We can come back for
that later."  Sam could only nod as she pulled out.


They drove in silence out to the richest part of town.  When Sam
noticed where they were going, he was glad that they had not gone back
for his car.  This part of town was fenced in and patrolled by
rent-a-cops.  Even if he could've managed to get in, he probably
would've been followed by some security guard for every inch of the
drive.


They pulled up in front of a mansion.  Sam sat in stunned silence at
the size of the house as the woman got out and opened the door.  "Nice
place," he murmured as she led him up the front steps of the house.


"Why, thank you," she replied.


They went inside and into a parlor.  "Have a seat while I make us some
drinks," she said.


Sam sat down on a couch as she went over to a bar and mixed some
drinks.  While she worked, he looked around.  Everything in the house
bespoke wealth.   Every stick of furniture was an antique; the rugs,
even the drapes were a rich tapestry of silk.  He was still ogling the
place when the woman returned with the drinks.


It had a strange greenish color and Sam sniffed at it.  "Mmmm.  Creme
de Menthe."


"Drink up," she said as she drained her own drink.


Sam shrugged and drained his drink.  The woman sat beside him on the
couch and started rubbing his crotch.  "Tell me something," she said.


"Anything."


"Do you think I'm pretty?"


"Very."


"Do you like my tits?"


"Oh, yeah."


"Would you like a pair of your own?"


"I... huh?"


"Would you like a pair of your own?"


"What're you talking about?"  Sam noticed an itching in his chest and
reached up to scratch it.  As he did so he saw that his shirt was
starting to tent away from his chest.  He watched in fascination as he
actually grew tits.  He seemed stunned until his shirt burst open,
exposing two mammaries easily as large as the woman's.  "Oh, my god!" 
Then Sam noticed it.  "My voice!  It's so high!  What did you do to
it?  What did you do to me?"  Sam grabbed his crotch and breathed a
sigh of relief.  The seat of his manhood was sill there.


"I've made you into my little play toy.  And if you want to be returned
to normal then you will obey me implicitly.  Come with me."  She got up
and left the room.


Unable to do anything but comply, Sam got up and followed.  They went
upstairs and into a very effeminately decorated room.  "This," she
said, "will be your room while you are here as my girl."


"And how long will that be?"


"Well if you could pay the reversal fee, you could make the return to
manhood tonight."


"How much is it?"


"A quarter of a million."


"Dollars?!"


"No, pesos.  Yes, dollars."


"Please, have mercy.  I'm just a poor college student."


"Well, if you can't afford it this year, how do you expect to afford it
next year?"


"Next year?"


"Yes.  You'll need a dose every year to prevent your body from
returning to this state.  Further, if you don't get the reversal agent
or at least a delaying agent every 24 hours, this becomes permanent."


"Permanent?!" Sam squeaked.  "Why are you doing this to me?"


"Well, I go out every once in a while and find some sexist pig and
transform him into my she-male toy."


"Sexist pig?  I'm no sexist pig.  What are you?  Some man-hater that
thinks that all men are pigs?"


She gave him an inquisitive look.  "Perhaps you're right.  Perhaps I
have misjudged you.  Tell me the truth now, and you may get the
reversal agent for free for the rest of your life."


"Okay."


"Were you prepared to have sex with me tonight?"


"Truthfully, yes."


"Okay, then if you can do just one thing for me, you'll have earned
those free dosages for life."


"Anything."


"Just tell me my name."  Sam stammered for a bit, before she said,
"Mm-hmm.  You were prepared to go to bed with a woman whose name you
didn't even know, just because she looked like this."  The woman waved
her hands down her body to make her point.


"Yeah, well, what's my name?"


"Samuel Nevada.  One year away from getting his Law degree from the
local state college.  Has maintained a grade point average of at least
3.5 since graduating high school.  And in the last year you have had
sex with 230 different women, not one of which became a relationship." 
Sam was stunned.  "I cull my conquests rather seriously.  Now let's get
you dressed.  Get out of those men's clothes.  They look silly on
you."


Sam stood there for a few seconds before she said, "Oh, come now, you
can't be shy.  You were just about to expose yourself to me for sex."


Sam shrugged and undressed.  It was then that Sam got a view of some of
the features of his new body.  His arms and legs were now hairless. 
His waist seemed impossibly small in comparison to his hips (which he
was sure were now wider than they were) and his bust.  His feet and
hands were both smaller and more delicate.  And he may have been
imagining it, but it somehow felt as though he ought to be standing on
the balls of his feet.


The woman took the clothes and threw them into a chute in the wall
marked "Waste".  She then got a tape measure out of the drawer and
proceeded to measure Sam's new body.  When she was done, she said,
"Your new proportions are 36-30-34.  And you have a C cup.  You're a
little wide in the waist, but that can be handled."


"C cup?  But my tits look as big as yours.  And I'd swear those were D
cups."


"They are. But you've got a smaller frame than I do, both in height and
around the torso.  As a result your tits look bigger."


"Oh."


"Now we've got to get your waist size down.  Once we've had you on a
special diet for a couple months, you should be down to the mid-20s,
but till then..."  She went over to the closet and returned with a
bright red, leather corset.


Sam gulped.  "Do I have to wear that?"


She seemed to consider that.  Finally she gave him a lustful look, like
a man might give any beautiful woman.  "Well, if you really want to
walk around in the nude, I think I could get used to that."


Sam blushed and took the corset from her.  He stepped into it and
pulled it up around his waist.  The woman stepped behind him, took the
corset's laces and pulled them as tight as she could as he gasped for
air under her onslaught.  It wasn't until she had tied them off that
Sam realized that the laces were in that place in his back which was
hardest to reach.  There was no way he could get in or out of the
corset without someone else's help.


After she was finished tying him in, she went over to the small
dresser.  Pointing at the top drawer she said, "This drawer will
contain your bras and panties."  She opened it.  "You'll notice it's
empty.  You won't be needing a bra till you no longer need a corset,
the cups on the corset will provide all the support you need.  And in
either case you must earn the right to wear panties or a bra when not
in your corset, which will not be often."


She closed the first drawer and opened the second.  Inside were some
socks (all small and feminine in style) and stockings.  "This drawer
will contain foot coverings.  Except for shoes, of course, which are
kept in the closet."  She took out a pair of stockings and tossed them
to him.  "Put these on."


Sam sat down and pulled the stockings on.  The stockings were different
from any he had felt on any woman's legs.  Further, they weren't
elastic at the top, and in order to keep them from falling back down,
Sam had to secure them using the elastic straps hanging at the bottom
of the corset.  After he was finished, he rubbed his thighs through the
stockings.  "These feel really nice."


"They should.  They're silk."


"Silk?" Sam said, obviously impressed and feeling flattered.  Then, to
attempt to cover his pleasure, he said, as sarcastically as he could,
"For a slave like me?  I'm impressed."


Ignoring his sarcasm, she replied, "Don't be.  I have an image to
maintain, so even my lowliest slave gets the best clothes."  Continuing
on, she pointed to the third drawer.  "This drawer will contain blouses
and the bottom one will contain skirts, and perhaps, if you're very
good, slacks.  All must, of course, be earned."


She walked over to the closet and returned with a short, red dress. 
"Except for your corsets, stockings and heels, this will be your only
clothing until you earn more.  You will remove it before bed and wash
it by hand, hanging it to dry for the next day.  You will not be
allowed to leave this room without it on.  Doing so is grounds for
punishment."


"What kind of punishment?"


"Pray you never find out."  Sam gulped.  The woman returned the dress
to the closet.  "You should go to bed now.  You will have a long day
tomorrow."


"What about this?" he said, waving his hands along the corset.


"To get you used to it, you will sleep in it.  At least for a few
nights."


Sam wasn't sure he could manage that; the corset was unbelievably
tight; but being afraid to argue, all he said was, "Yes, ma'am."


"Very good.  Very polite."


As she started to walk from the room, Sam asked, "Excuse me, but what
is your name?"


"Now you ask.  My name is Elaine.  For the duration of your stay with
me you will refer to me as Mistress or, more formally, Mistress
Elaine."


"Yes, Mistress Elaine."


After she left, Sam noticed and went over to a full length mirror
hanging on the back of the door and got a good look at his new body. 
Sam was stunned.  Except for his hair, he was a looker!  His face had
taken on a rounder, more delicate appearance, and his arms and legs
were both much slimmer and seemed to match his new feminine body
perfectly.  He did have to admit that Mistress (amazing how easily he
thought of her by that title) was right.  Although shapely, even in the
corset, to be perfect, he could've stood to lose a couple inches from
his waist.  And as he stood there a thought came unbidden to his mind,
"The red may give me a slutty look, but blue would've gone much better
with my hair and eye color."


Sam stopped and shook his head.  "Was I just critiquing my weight and
clothes like a woman?  I must be more worn out from all this than I
thought."  He walked over to the bed and crawled in and fell asleep.


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


THE NEXT DAY...


Sam was awoke by a strange woman's voice.  "Good morning. 
Wakey-wakey."  Sam groaned, but crawled to the edge of the bed and sat
up.  "How'd you sleep?" she asked.


"Lousy."


"Not unusual.  It takes a while to get used to sleeping in the
corset."


"It wasn't the corset.  That didn't bother me near as much as I thought
it would.  It was these strange dreams."


"Really?  What about?"


"That's just it, I don't remember any details, just some really
disturbing feelings.  Oh, I'm sorry.  You probably already know, but my
name's Sam."


The woman, a striking native American woman dressed in a dress that
looked like it was from the pre-civil-war south, complete with large
hoop skirt, said, "Yes, I did know, but it's polite to introduce
yourself anyways.  My name is Linda, but you will refer to me as Lady
Linda, or by the honorific, milady.  I am the head of Mistress's
domestic staff and will control your training for your stay."


"Yes, ma'am."


"No, not ma'am.  Only Mistress is to be referred to as ma'am. 
Milady."


"Yes, milady."


"Very good.  And don't worry about the dreams.  Many of our staff had
nightmares the first few nights after their transformation."


"Well, they weren't really nightmares, just disturbing."


"Well, if they continue too long, then we'll worry about it.  For now
let's get you out of that corset and into a fresh one."


"Yes, milady."


The woman helped Sam out of his corset and got out a new one, this one
blue.  After Sam got into it, he caught a look at himself in the
mirror.  "I was right," he thought, "blue is a better color for me."


Linda looked through the closet and asked, "Did Mistress issue you a
maid's uniform?"


"No, just that red dress."


"Then let's go get you one.  Follow me."  Linda walked outside the
room, but when Sam didn't follow she turned and said, "Come on."


"No."


Angrily, she asked, "Are you defying me?"


Sam was frightened, but, in a trembling voice, said, "Mistress said I
wasn't to leave the room unless I was wearing that dress."


Linda smiled.  "Very good, Sam.  You passed your first test."  Sam
breathed a sigh of relief.  "Although I am in charge of your day to day
life here, Mistress is always the ultimate authority.<italic> 
</italic>I may give you conflicting commands because I want to test you
or because I haven't been informed as to what Mistress has ordered. 
You are NEVER to disobey Mistress's commands.  Understand?"


"Yes, milady."


"Further, you may be leant to others.  Unless Mistress says otherwise,
their commands do not override mine."


"Yes, milady."


Linda reentered the room.  "Now let's get you into that dress."


As she got the dress from the closet, Sam asked, "Milady, may I ask a
question?"


"Yes, you may."


"Earlier you mentioned that other members of Mistress's staff had gone
through a transformation like mine.  How many are like me?  Were once
men, I mean."


"All of us."


"All of you?"


"Yes.  Mistress's entire staff is composed of obnoxious, chauvinistic
men who realized they were happier as women.  Not having any legal
identity, Mistress was gracious enough to put us to work on her
staff."


"Well, that's not going to happen to me."


As Linda helped Sam into the dress, she said, "Probably not.  Not many
do decide to become women."


"Good.  I was beginning... to think..."  Sam stopped, not wanting to
voice his concerns.


"That we were going to force you to be a woman for the rest of your
natural life?"  Sam nodded.  "No.  As soon as Mistress feels you've
learned your lesson, or three months have passed, whichever takes
longer, she'll give you the reversal agent."


"So I've got to spend at least three months like this?  Even if I learn
my lesson in a week?  Why?"


"Your three-month servitude will repay Mistress for the costs involved
in creating both the transformation and the reversal agents."


Sam wanted to protest, but realized it would be useless.  "So how is my
servitude to start?"


"With breakfast."  Sam raised an inquisitive eyebrow.  Linda smiled and
said, "Mistress wants to speak to you, personally.  You're to serve her
at breakfast, after which, she will speak to you about your duties."


Linda got out a pair of low heels (1/2") and gave them to Sam.  After
he put them on, she said, "Now come along."


Sam followed, amazed at how comfortable he was in the heels, and how
easy it was to walk in them.  When he mentioned it to Linda she snorted
and said, "Wait until you've spent all day in them and then tell me
they're comfortable.  As for finding them easy to walk in..."  She
shrugged.  "Maybe you're just a natural."


"That's not funny."


She looked back at him over her shoulder.  "I wasn't trying to be."


They walked through the house until they reached the kitchen, where a
collection of women were running about preparing food.  There was a
tray waiting on a counter with scrambled eggs, toast, juice, and milk
on it.  Linda pointed at it.  "This is how Mistress likes her
breakfast, when she has it, that is.  You'll find that she skips a
formal breakfast as often as not to work in her lab.  Notice the
firmness of the eggs.  Mistress doesn't like them much firmer than
this, but she detests runny eggs.  The toast should be approximately
this color, and she will want it buttered at the table, in front of
her.  After you take this out there and set it in front of her, that is
what you will do.  Check the juice and make sure there are no pits. 
All this has been done for you today, but this will be your job on
later days."


"What do I do if it doesn't meet up to standards?"


Linda waved her hand to one of the girls in the kitchen and said,
"Liz."  A blonde woman with her hair in a bun, impossibly huge tits
(Sam guessed that they must've been somewhere around an I or J cup) and
a stern look in her eye came over.  She, like everybody but him, was
dressed in clothes from the pre-civil-war south.  "This is Lady
Elizabeth.  She is in charge of the kitchen.  You will rarely find
anything seriously out of order, but if you do inform her."


Sam nodded.  Elizabeth walked up to him, and gave him a cold,
impersonal stare over her huge tits.  "If Mistress ever gets imperfect
food, as head of the kitchen, I get punished.  But then, I will not
only punish whoever prepared the food for their failure, but also you
for your failure to catch it.  Understand?"


"Yes, ma'am."


Elizabeth hauled off and slapped him.  Sam wondered what he had done
when she said, "Address me as milady!  Only Mistress is ma'am!"


Holding his face, Sam said, "Yes, milady."


As she walked away, Linda said, "She takes her job rather seriously. 
Just make sure you do your job, and you won't have any troubles with
her."


Sam watched Elizabeth walk away and despite himself, he felt attracted
to this strong-willed blonde.  He shook himself out of his reverie, and
said, "Yes, Lady Linda."  Without being prompted, Sam picked up the
tray, and said, "Is there anything else?  I don't want to keep Mistress
waiting."


Linda smiled, pleased with Sam's initiative.  She picked up a napkin
and spread it over Sam's arm.  "After placing the tray in front of her,
place this in her lap.  Be very careful not to touch her directly
unless she prompts you to do so."


Sam nodded and Linda pointed him through another door.  Sam backed
through it, so as not to risk disturbing the food (as he had seen
waiters do in fancy restaurants) and entered an elaborate dining room. 
Sitting at a huge, antique table was Mistress Elaine.  He walked up and
set the tray in front of her.  As he spread the napkin in her lap, he
said, "Good morning, ma'am."


She neatly folded a paper she was reading and set it to one side. 
"Good morning, Samuel."  Sam breathed a quiet sigh of relief.  He had
been worried that Mistress would force him to take a feminine name, and
he wasn't sure he could deal with that.  "How did you sleep?"


"I had some bad dreams, but Lady Linda assures me that that's not
unusual, and that they'll go away in a few days."


"If they don't, make sure to inform me.  Have a seat."


Sam sat down in the seat nearest to her.  As he watched her eat, he
realized how hungry he was, but remained silent as she finished her
meal.  As she wiped her mouth with the napkin, he worked up the nerve
to say, "Ma'am?"


"Yes, Samuel?"


"I know you mentioned that I would be on a special diet, but I'm
awfully hungry, and I was wondering...  Will I be allowed any
breakfast, at all?"


"Of course.  Starvation diets don't work.  But you will eat after I
do.  Linda will show you where."


"Yes, ma'am."


"After breakfast, my chauffeur will take you to a local beauty salon
and get you fixed up.  Then you will return here and Linda will
instruct you in your day's duties."


"Yes, ma'am."


Mistress Elaine pulled out a bottle full of something green.  "This is
your delaying agent.  It will keep you from becoming a woman
permanently, at least for the next twenty-four hours.  It should be
taken on an empty stomach, so drink up."


Sam took the bottle and quickly downed it.  He felt a brief tingle
throughout his body.  "Thank you, Mistress."


"You're quite welcome."  Mistress stood up, and began to leave the
room.  As she passed Sam, she said, "You know, you really do make a
striking woman."  Sam winced a bit.  Not because he hated what she had
said, but because he knew she was right and, somehow, that pleased him
more than he cared to admit.


After she left, Linda walked in.  "Now, would you like to go to the
salon, or have breakfast first?"


"Breakfast, milady."


"As you wish.  Follow me."


Sam got up and followed Linda as she went downstairs into the
sub-floors.  Linda walked into a room that looked like the observation
rooms on cop shows, the place where cops and witnesses could observe
criminals without being seen.  Through the observation window Sam saw a
man strapped into a chair.  The man was dressed in a skirt, with no
underwear, either panties or boxers, but was naked from the waist up. 
"What's going on?" he yelled.  "Where am I?"


Sam stared at the man as he ranted.  "Look familiar?" Linda asked.


"Yes, he does, but I can't place where from."


"His name is David McCarrey."


"The serial rapist?!"


"Exactly." 


Sam remembered the case.  David McCarrey had been a rapist who had been
caught and put on trial.  He had been caught red-handed with evidence
for one rape, and there had been evidence he had committed many more. 
Unfortunately, a mistake on the search warrant had gotten the most
substantial evidence thrown out, and he had gone free.  Then, just a
couple days before Sam had gone out on his fateful bar-hopping trip,
David McCarrey had disappeared altogether.


"Mistress brought him here, pumped him full of a special truth serum
she had designed, and found out how many rapes he had committed.  And
it's far more than even the police suspect."


"So now what are you going to do with him?"


"Watch."


Sam watched as a large breasted woman (like Elizabeth, her tits were
around a J cup size) walked in.  The man became profane, then
apologetic, then imploring as the woman prepared a syringe of
something, and injected him in the arm.


After she injected him, the man briefly became profane again before he
suddenly stopped.  An euphoric look crossed the man's face and he sat
there as his chest started growing breasts.  He looked down and smiled
stupidly as his breasts quickly passed Sam's in size.  They continued
to grow, past Mistress's (and Linda's, who also had D cups), till they
reached the huge size sported by Elizabeth and the woman who drugged
him to begin with.  But they didn't stop there.  They continued growing
till they were larger even than his own torso, extending past his own
knees and arms in length.  Sam wondered how big they would get, when
they eventually stopped growing.  They were as large as...  Well, Sam
couldn't think of anything they were as large as, but they were so
large that the man wouldn't have been able to touch his own nipples
with his fingertips.  And his nipples were now as impossibly large as
the rest of his tits, and looked more like the teats on a cow's udder
than any human nipples.


The woman walked up and unfearfully released the man.  He didn't even
stand (Sam wondered if he could with his new tits).  He just reached up
and massaged the sides of his new tits.  He tried to reach his own
nipples and Sam had been right, he couldn't reach them.  After a few
seconds, the man looked up at the woman and wailed plaintively.


She looked down at him.  "Are your nipples sore?" she asked.  He just
nodded and made another plaintive sound.  "Would you like me to do
something about it?"  The man nodded.  The woman took a scolding tone. 
"You remember what you did to those ladies?"  The man got a sad look in
his eyes and lowered his head.  "Remember?!"  The man looked up at her
and made an agreeing noise.


"Why doesn't he say anything?" Sam asked.


"He can't," Linda explained.  "He's undergone a chemical IQ
adjustment.  He's literally nothing more than an animal as far as his
thought processes go.  He remembers everything, he just doesn't have
the cognitive capabilities to understand it anymore."


Sam gulped as the woman continued.  "Do you realize what you did was
wrong?"  The man nodded and made his little agreeing noise, but Sam
could tell he would've agreed if the woman had asked if the sky was
green and grass was blue.  "Alright, then.  Come with me."  The man
tried to rise, but couldn't manage it.  He stared at his tits with a
mystified look in his eyes.  The woman waited patiently until the man
figured out (and it took him a few minutes to figure it out) that by
placing his own arms under his tits, and lifting he could manage to
stand and walk slowly.


Sam finally got a good look at the man.  Unlike Sam the man still
looked basically male with three exceptions.  The first, and most
obvious, was, of course, his tits.  The second, was his hips, which
were now extremely wide.  So wide, in fact, that his skirt was widely
flared out, and his penis was plainly visible.  The third difference
was his feet, which were now extremely wide and long.  They must've
been a size 20 or more.


After the rapist and woman left, Linda said, "Come on."


As Sam walked with Linda, he asked, "Why wasn't he made to look like a
woman?"


Linda sneered.  "Why give him the privilege?  He's still David
McCarrey, the rapist.  And even though he's got the IQ of a cow, part
of him, every time he looks in a mirror, will see David McCarrey with
tits bigger than any woman he ever raped."


"But why the change to his hips and feet?  And why the skirt?"


"He wears a skirt as a sign of his emasculation.  Although he can
experience orgasm, he is no longer capable of erection.  The feet are
made so much larger to provide extra support for his back.  Those tits
will eventually destroy his back anyways, but the larger feet and the
reinforced muscles in his back will help offset when that happens."


"And the hips?"


Linda just smiled.  "It's time to find out."


They walked down the hall and into a room.  Inside was a line of "men"
like McCarrey, a score of big-tittied men with huge hips.  All were
kneeling down, their breasts resting comfortably in indentations in the
floor in front of them, and had some kind of machine hooked up to their
nipples.  At the other end of the room were five women in large hoop
skirts like the one Linda was wearing sitting around a table playing
cards.


"What do you think?" Linda asked.


"It looks like a... milking operation."


"Very good."


Sam saw a door open on the other side of the room, and the woman who
had dosed McCarrey walked in, quickly followed by McCarrey and his tits
(which were small in comparison to some of the men in the room).  The
woman walked in and pointed at the end of the line.  "Kneel here."


The man carefully knelt down, but fell the last couple feet.  Luckily
the indentations were padded, and he didn't hurt himself.  One of the
girls from the table came over and helped get the man to a kneeling
position.  They then locked the man's wrists and knees down so he
couldn't move, which Sam found strange since none of the other men were
locked down.  They hooked him up to the machine, and, when nothing else
happened, he looked up at her and made that plaintive, begging sound. 
The woman stroked his head and said, "Don't worry, cow #321.  Someone
will be along shortly to help you get your milk started."  She looked
to the woman in the hoop skirt and said, "He's all yours," then left.


The woman walked up to the man, released a catch on her skirt and let
it fall.  Sam was shocked, not by the fact that the woman had no
petticoats or panties (which Sam was surprised to find himself noticing
despite everything), but by the HUGE dick which was now visible, a dick
a horse would've been jealous of.  It was flaccid, and yet still hung
down almost a foot and a half from her crotch, and was so big around
Sam didn't think he could get one hand around it.


The woman stepped from the skirt, lifted her dick and waved it in front
of the man's face.  The man sniffed at it as if he couldn't understand
what this huge thing in front of him was.  He drew back a bit when he
recognized the smell of what it was.  He watched her, trembling, as she
walked behind him.  When she went to her knees and started stroking her
dick, he seemed to know instinctively what she was about to do, and
tried to lurch away, but he was held far too securely.  When the woman
was fully erect (2 1/2' of dick) she placed her dickhead at the man's
ass and slammed in, amazingly going all the way in.


Linda told him, "That's why his ass was made so large.  To accommodate
the bulls."


Sam watched, shocked, but unable to look away.  The man tried to
struggle away but couldn't, and his struggles only excited the woman. 
It only took a couple minutes before she was orgasming and spraying
semen in his ass.  A few seconds after she came the man settled down,
and stared at his tits.  That same euphoric look he had earlier
overcame him, as he (and Sam) saw a white substance flowing through the
tubes attached to his nipples.  The woman started moving again, but
this time the man, instead of trying to get away, surged backwards
against her, participating in his own fucking.


As the two of them went at it, another "cow" started mooing (for that
was how Sam had come to think of the plaintive wailing) and another of
the girls went behind him, and with no ceremony, lifted her skirt
(revealing a cock as large as the other girl's), and plunged in. 
Amazingly, the man had lifted his ass, and was participating in his own
fucking with total abandon.


"Is all this necessary?" he asked.


"Yes, these men are now sperm-to-milk converters.  The bulls pump them
full of semen, their bodies absorb it, and start producing milk, which
soothes the soreness in their nipples, and produces a euphoria which
they quickly become addicted to.  They know they're addicted to being
sodomized, but they can't help it."


"So why'd you bring me here?"


"For breakfast."


Linda reached into a cabinet and pulled out a bottle.  She took two
pills from it, handed one to Sam and walked over to the man getting his
ass reamed.  "This is breakfast?"


"No," she said as she disconnected the tubes from his tits, "these are
to keep our bodies from absorbing too much fat."  After the tubes were
disconnected, the man looked at his tits (still dripping milk) and
whimpered.


"From what?"


"From the breast milk.  Children need much more fat than we do for
proper nerve and brain development, so breast milk is high in fat." 
She knelt down in front of the man and popped the pill.  "Dig in," she
said, as she took the man's nipple and started sucking it.


Sam was about to refuse as his stomach started to grumble.  He looked
around, and finally figuring, "What the hell," sat down, popped the
pill, took the other tit in hand, and started sucking.  The man cooed
as Sam and Linda sucked.  Sam found the milk warmer and sweeter then
any he had found before and sucked until he had his fill.


When Sam pulled off, Linda had already finished, and was waiting.  She
quickly showed him how to disconnect and reconnect the hoses (in case
he had to attend meals alone).  She went over to talk to one of the
bulls, and when she came back, she asked, "Why the stares?"


"Stares?"


"You were staring at my skirt."


Sam blushed and dropped his eyes.  "I'm sorry.  It was improper of
me."


"You're blushing.  That's so cute.  Yes, it was improper, but let me
guess, after seeing that I and the bulls wear the same type of skirt,
you were wondering what size my dick was."  Sam's blush reddened and he
nodded.  Linda smiled a knowing smile.  "Let's just say that my dick
size is such that I cannot and never will be able to be a bull."


"Thank you for sharing, milady."  As Sam's blush went away, he asked,
"What were you and the other bull commenting on?"


"Oh, she just wanted to tell me how cute she thought you were."  Linda
laughed an amused laugh as Sam reddened even worse than before.


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


LATER THAT EVENING...


Sam stumbled into his room, exhausted.  After returning from the salon
(and he had to admit, they had done a fabulous job, he was one hot
babe), he had been put to work in the kitchen till lunch.  And
Elizabeth had worked him like a dog.  The work itself wasn't that bad,
but the heat and steam had undone the work that had been done on his
hair, which upset him worse than the heavy work load.  After lunch
(another trip to visit the cows) he had been put to work in the
upstairs housekeeping staff.  There was less of that work, but it was a
lot more strenuous than the kitchen work.  By the time he was finished,
he had felt like he had personally cleaned the entire upstairs.  Worse
yet, he had worked the entire day in heels and that tight, red dress. 
And, he remembered, he still had yet to wash it for tomorrow.  After
work, he had had a light dinner (Sam was surprised and disappointed
when it wasn't another trip to the cows) and come up here.


He reached behind him to try to get to the zipper, when he heard
Mistress say, "Don't do that, yet."


He spun around.  "Mistress?"


"Your duties aren't finished."


Sam whimpered a bit and said, "Yes, Mistress."


"Relax.  Lady Elizabeth sometimes has trouble getting to bed.  You're
to go in and help relax her."


With trepidation, Sam asked, "How?"


"However she wants.  Now go on, her room is down the hall, third door
on the right."


Sam deflated a bit, but said, "Yes, ma'am."


As he walked through the door, Mistress said, "Samuel."


"Yes, ma'am?"


"I've received nothing but glowing reports about you.  You'll be
entitled to panties and a maid's uniform tomorrow."


Sam curtsied.  He said, "Thank you, ma'am," and ran down the hall.  He
was in front of the door to Lady Elizabeth's room, about to knock, when
he thought to himself, "Did I just curtsy?"


He shook his head and knocked on the door.  He heard Elizabeth's voice
inside.  "Enter."


Sam opened the door and stepped inside.  "Mistress sent me."


Elizabeth was shaking her hair out.  Out of the bun, her hair fell to
her shoulders, and made her even more beautiful then she was in the
kitchen.  "Come on in, dearie."  She looked in the mirror she was
sitting in front of and sighed.  "I love the kitchen but it sure does
play havoc with my hair."  She handed a brush back over her shoulder. 
"Brush me out, dearie."


Sam took the brush and started to brush out her hair.  "Oh, that's
nice.  One of the benefits of being a woman is having someone brush out
your hair."


In a somewhat melancholy voice, Sam said, "I wouldn't know."


Elizabeth suddenly grabbed his hand.  "Now where did...  Oh, I forgot
you were so new."  She patted her lap.  "Sit down and let big sister
talk to you."  Sam looked down, afraid to take her up on the offer. 
She just patted her lap again and said, "Come on."


Sam took a chance and sat down on her lap.  She wrapped one arm around
Sam to support him, and took his far hand in hers.  "Samuel, it is
still Samuel, you haven't changed it?"  Sam shook his head.  "Samuel,
your big sister, when it comes to her job as head of the kitchen, gets
a little..."


"Determined?"


Elizabeth laughed a light-hearted laugh that put Sam at ease.  "Thanks
for trying to be polite, but I was looking for a stronger version of
the word obsessed.  I don't mean anything by it.  And I really am sorry
I slapped you earlier."  She kissed Sam on the cheek where she had
slapped him earlier, a kiss that had no sexual content, and made Sam
feel like he was back on the farm being kissed by his big sister. 
"Forgive your big sister?"


Sam smiled and said, "I guess so."


"Good.  Now why don't you finish brushing out my hair, and I'll do the
same for you."  Sam took the hairbrush and brushed out her hair.  After
he was finished, Elizabeth sat him down and brushed out his hair.  "You
have such pretty hair.  I love the raven black color.  I can't wait
till it grows longer.  You'll only be allowed to keep it this short if
you're permanently posted to the kitchen."


"Well, to be honest, I don't intend to be here so long that it becomes
an issue."


Elizabeth gave him a quizzical look.  "How long do you think you'll be
staying?"


"The three month minimum.  I'm going to be a good and dutiful young
lady for the duration, then return to being a man."


"And how long do you expect your hair to grow in that time?"


"Maybe a couple inches."


Elizabeth bent down and whispered in his ear, "Take a good look, hun. 
It's already that much longer."


Sam stared at himself in the mirror.  She was right!  His hair was
longer!  "How?"


"Side effect of the transformation drug.  For the next couple weeks,
your hair will grow at a rate of about 2 inches a day.  We all went
through it.  Don't worry, if and when you return to manhood, Mistress
pays for the haircut."


Sam just stared at himself for a while then asked, "Lady Elizabeth?"


"Yes?"


"May I ask...  What is your story?  How did you decide to become
Elizabeth?"


Elizabeth stopped and seemed to consider it for a while.  Finally, she
said, "I was a cook.  And if you think I'm bad now, I was an unholy
terror as a man.  And despite being very good at my job, that attitude
kept getting me fired from job after job. 


"Well, at one point, I had been out of a job for three months and had
pretty much given up.  I was sitting at home drinking, and wasting my
wife's income on pay per view adult movies.  I had a particular passion
for those that featured those huge, big breasted porno stars.


"My wife came home, and exploded at me.  We got into a big fight and
I...  I..."


Sam looked up and saw her eyes tearing up.  Sam took her hand and said,
"If you don't want to say, it's okay."


"No.  I started this.  I can get through it."  Then taking the time to
state every word individually, she said, "I. raped. my. wife."


"Oh, my."


"Yeah, well I woke up the next day, and she was gone.  And, in that way
drunks have of justifying anything they do, I blew her off, figuring
she had decided to leave me.  Later that night, she came back, acting
as though nothing had happened.  I didn't even have the guts to
apologize.  She mixed me up a drink, and not even thinking anything
about it, I drank it.  Next thing I knew I had a pair of A cup tits on
my chest, a small waist, a high voice, and my wife telling me that if I
ever wanted to be back to normal, I'd best obey her."


"Been there, done that," Sam said lightly.


Elizabeth laughed.  "Yes, but my formula had an extra component.  If my
blood alcohol ever passed .05 percent, half the legal limit at the
time, the formula would burn up the alcohol for fuel to cause my
breasts to grow a cup size.  It was now impossible for me to get drunk,
but it was possible for me to drink my way to gargantuan tits.  Of
course, my wife didn't warn me about this, went out shopping for me,
and, by the time she got back, I had managed to drink my way up to a D
cup.


"She was upset.  During my layoff, I had managed to go through most of
our savings on pure waste, and she barely had been able to afford the
first shopping trip.  So we moved in with Mistress Elaine.  I was
posted to the kitchen, and it was during those first couple weeks that
I discovered that I was an alcoholic.  As much as I wanted to, I
couldn't stop drinking, and every three days or so, I'd go on a small
bender and grow a cup size larger.  I was all the way up to a G cup,
before I went behind my wife's back and asked Mistress to change the
formula so that not only would I grow tits, but the growth would be
incredibly painful.


"You see, I can't stand pain.  And my wife knew it.  She didn't want me
in pain, just punished for what I had done to her.  Well with the extra
incentive, I soon had my drinking under control.  And I served the rest
of my three months stone cold sober."


"So why'd you decide to become Elizabeth?  Why not go back to being a
guy?"


"Well, I told you I was worse in the kitchen as a guy then as a girl. 
And as long as there was the prospect of going back it was like there
was this dark specter that was my old masculinity looming over me.  The
closer I got to that three month date, the more depressed I got.  The
night before I was scheduled to return, my wife took me out on the town
in an effort to cheer me up.  Just us two lesbian lovers going out to
dinner.  Well, after dinner I told her that I had something to say, and
she said the same.  So in an effort to get it out first we both blurted
out at the same time that we wanted me not to go back.  We laughed and
had a happy night.  The next day we made it permanent and I've had a
great life ever since."


"What happened to your wife?"


"Oh, she's just out of town on a business trip.  We live here
together."


"Oh."


Suddenly the phone rang.  Elizabeth ran over and got it.  "Susie! 
How's the trip, going?  Uh, huh.  Just like clockwork.  It's been
terrible sleeping here without you.  A new girl, you haven't met her
yet.  The name is Samuel.  Yes, a real looker.  Okay."  She looked to
Sam.  "She wants to talk to you."


As Sam took the phone, Elizabeth whispered to him, "She is Lady Susan
to you."


Sam nodded and said, "Hello, Lady Susan."


"Hello, hun, is Lizzie being nice to you?"


"Lady Elizabeth is being quite kind to me now."


"Now?  As in you worked in the kitchen earlier, right?"


"Uhm, yeah."


Susan laughed.  "Don't worry, hun, if she rode you too hard.  She's
like that with everyone.  But she's a real teddy bear in the sack. 
Will you be staying the night?"


"If she wants."


"Look, she'll be too shy to ask," which Sam found hard to believe, "so
do me a favor and stay the night with her?"


"Uhm, okay."


"And if you two get... exceptionally friendly tonight, you have my
permission to do anything but fuck her ass.  That piece of meat is for
me and my dildo."  Sam could feel himself turning bright red.  "Could
you put Lizzie back on?"


"Sure."


Sam handed the phone back to Elizabeth who said, "Hi, hun, I'm back." 
After a few seconds, she was blushing furiously.  "Huuuun.  No, I don't
think I will.  I don't think he's ready for that.  First day.  You may
be wrong.  Okay, see ya when you get back."  Elizabeth hung up the
phone.


"What was that last bit about?"


"Oh, nothing.  Help me out of these clothes and into a bath."


Sam helped her out of her dress.  Sam was amazed to find that she was
wearing a corset that was so stiff and tight that his own must've felt
roomy in comparison.  "Does Mistress require a corset for everyone?"


"Oh, no.  Once figure training is finished, it's optional.  But I need
the extra support for my tits."


"Should I take it off now?"


"First draw the bath.  Then I'll need help out of it."


"Yes, ma'...," Elizabeth gave Sam a stern look as he started to say
ma'am, "milady."


Elizabeth smiled.  "Go on, now.  I like my bath water as hot as you can
stand it."


Sam bowed and went into the bathroom.  He turned the water up as hot as
he could stand and filled the tub.  After it was finished, he called to
Elizabeth.  She walked in, touched her hand to the water and said,
"Perfect."


"Shall I help you out of your corset now?"


"First, let's get you out of yours."


Sam balked.  "Uh, miss, I..."


She took his hand.  "Sam, relax, I'm not going to do anything you don't
want.  At least not sexually.  But I enjoy someone being with me in the
water.  And if you're going to be there, you don't want to get your
dress and corset soaked, a particularly bad idea with the leather in
the corset."


"But I..."


"Sam, if I have to, I will order you to remove your clothes.  I'd
prefer this to be your choice, but I will have you naked with me in the
tub."


"I don't know..."


Elizabeth crossed her heart.  "I promise, I won't even cop a feel of
your tits."


"Okay," Sam said as he turned around so Elizabeth could undo the zipper
on his dress.  He felt relieved at Elizabeth's promise, but, strangely,
also disappointed.  Wasn't he pretty enough?  Didn't he have a good
body?  He was shocked, but also a little pleased, when she grabbed his
ass as she pulled the dress down over it.


Playfully, Elizabeth said, "Never promised not to cop a feel there." 
Sam realized she was playing and returned her guileless smile.  She
helped him out of his corset and stockings, then he helped her out of
hers.  As Sam helped remove her panties, part of him was pleased to
note that her dick (and even confronted by this evidence of her once
masculinity, he was unable to think of her as a man) was slightly
smaller than his own.


Sam got into the tub first then helped her in.  They scrubbed each
other and played a bit, but finally Sam noticed his hand drifting
towards Elizabeth's tit.  He stopped himself and asked, "May I?  Touch
it I mean?"


Elizabeth gave him a serious look.  "Sam, there's a rule here in
regards to sex.  A rule that applies to newbies like yourself as well
as to me.  That rule is share and share alike.  If you give pleasure,
you have a right to expect pleasure.  And if you take pleasure from
another, they have a right to expect an equal amount of pleasure from
you.  Now, if you really want, you can stroke my tits, but I get
pleasure from feeling up tits just like you do.  And if you do stroke
me, that is an automatic granting of permission for me to do the same
to you.  And I assure you, if you grant that permission, I will take
advantage of it."


Sam thought about it.  Did he really want to give permission to this
woman, to any woman, to touch him in that way?  Not that he wasn't
curious as to how it felt, but he knew that if he let it happen, it
would be admitting to... something; he still wasn't sure of what that
something was, but something.


While he sat there in a quandary, his body seemed to make the decision
for him as his hand drifted closer and closer to Elizabeth.  When he
noticed it, he finally decided, "What the hell," and consciously
reached to the she-male and stroked her massive mammaries.


Elizabeth moaned as her hands reached towards Sam's tits.  Sam tensed
up just as her hands touched him, but as a wave of pleasure flooded his
body, he relaxed and leaned into her hands.  Sam closed his eyes and
moaned loudly, drowning out Elizabeth with his pleasure.  He didn't
know how it happened (and surprisingly, didn't care) but when his wits
came together, he and Elizabeth were openly kissing, each tonguing the
other's mouth.  Sam found himself moving closer to Elizabeth, rubbing
his body against hers, his tits to hers, even his cock against hers. 
Suddenly, her body tensed, and convulsed.  Sam felt a smooth substance
brush his cock in the water as she held him close to her.


They lay in the water in each other's arms until Elizabeth looked into
Sam's eyes and said, "I owe you an orgasm."


As her hands reached to his tits, he protested, "That's really not
necessary."


Elizabeth stifled him with a kiss and said, "Sam, shut up and let me
pleasure you."  Sam quieted himself as her hands rubbed and stroked
him, roaming his tits, arms, abdomen, and legs.  The only part of his
body her hands didn't touch was his cock, and Sam was amazed when he
tensed up and sprayed into the water.  When he was finished and had
time (and the concentration) to think, he realized he had cum like a
girl, with no direct touching of his genitalia.  Part of him was
bothered by this, but part of him, a part he shoved down deep in his
psyche, wanted more of the same.


Sam barely had time to ponder, before Elizabeth's foot found the chain
on the bath plug, and she deftly pulled it from the drain.  She stood
and helped him from the tub.  The quickly toweled each other off, and
Elizabeth shyly asked, "Will you be staying the night?  You don't have
to if you don't want to."


Sam remembered his promise to Elizabeth's wife, and said, "I'd like
that," realizing only after he said it that that was what he'd like.


Elizabeth smiled, and, returning to big sister mode, hugged him in a
non-sexual way.  "Let's go to bed."


Sam smiled, and started to walk out of the room with her, but then saw
his dress on the floor and remembered what he had been told about it. 
"I've got to wash my dress."


"Okay, I'll help."


"No, it's my job.  I want to be able to say I took care of it, if I'm
asked about it tomorrow."


"Understandable, but have you ever hand-washed a dress before?"  Sam
shook his head.  "Then you'll at least need an instructor and coach. 
Come on, I've got some mild detergent under the sink."


Sam was grateful for her help as she coached him through the procedure
and helped him smooth out the dress as he hung it up.  Sam took his
corset, and as he started to put it on, she asked what he was doing. 
"Mistress instructed me to wear it to bed.  At least for the first few
nights, she said."


Elizabeth helped him into it as she complimented him on his obedience. 
As she helped him, he asked, "Milady?  If I may ask, why did you choose
the name Elizabeth?"


"Actually, it was originally intended to be degrading.  One of the
first things my wife threatened to do to me was lend me out to guys. 
After I whined that I didn't like guys, she said that since I was now a
girl and only liked girls I must be a lesbian.  So she named me Lizzie
the lezzie.  It just seemed right to keep it after I decided to make
the change permanent."


After he was "dressed", he helped her into a frilly night gown, and
they climbed into bed together, cuddled like long lost friends, and
fell asleep.


It was the middle of the night when Sam sat upright in bed.  He was
panting heavily.  Elizabeth murmured and woke.  When she noticed Sam
shaking, she asked, "What's wrong?"


"It's just... some nightmares."


Elizabeth pulled him down beside her and said, "Tell big sister all
about it."


Sam allowed himself to snuggle with her and said, "That's just it.  I
don't remember.  I woke up a couple times with the cold sweats last
night, but every time I try to remember why, I can't."


Elizabeth held him tight and said, "The nightmares.  I remember those.
After I was transformed, I had nightmares of being raped.  Of having
someone do to me what I had done to my wife."


Sam shivered and said, "But I've never raped anyone.  Alright, I may
have been a chauvinist.  I admit that, but nothing so bad that I should
be having nightmares so bad I can't remember them."


Sam started to cry as Elizabeth held him to her.  "It's okay.  It's
okay, hun.  You go ahead and cry into big sister's shoulder."  Sam
dissolved into a sobbing mass, and Elizabeth held him close throughout
it.


When he was finished, she looked him in the eye, and asked, "Feel
better?"


Sam wiped a tear out of his eye and said, "Yeah, I do.  Look at me. 
I'm bawling like a-"


"Like a girl?"


Sam gave her a disapproving glare, but when he saw that she was just
teasing, he returned the tease by saying, "I don't know about that.  I
can't ever see you bawling like this, so it can't be that girlie."


Elizabeth gave Sam a quick kiss and said, "That's the sweetest thing
you ever said."  Sam felt her hand on his dick.  "It deserves a
reward."  Remembering what she had told him earlier, he reached for her
dick.  She stopped him. "That's not necessary.  This is a freebie."


Surprising himself, he continued to reach for her.  "I don't mind." 
She started to protest, but Sam silenced her with a kiss.  "Elizabeth,
shut up and let me pleasure you."  Elizabeth noticed that he was using
her own words on her and smiled.  They kissed delicately as each
stroked the other to hardness.


When they were both hard, Elizabeth said, "Sam, there's something I'd
like to do with you.  A pleasure I'd like to show you, but it may be a
little more intimate than you're ready for."


Sam gulped.  "You don't want to... fuck me?  Do you?"


"No.  Well, yes, but that's not what I was thinking about.  Do you
trust me?"


"Of course."


Elizabeth moved so that their dicks were touching.  The tip of his dick
was touching just above her dick and her own was firmly nestled in the
crook between her dick and balls.  She wrapped her hand around the twin
poles.  "Now wrap your own hand around them and interlace your fingers
with mine."


Sam did as he was told, and together they started to pump their cocks. 
Sam looked to Elizabeth and kissed her.  He was soon overwhelmed with
the intimacy and sexuality of the moment, and was madly bucking his
hips against hers.  His own free hand found her breast and started to
knead.  Responding to and mirroring his action, she found his tit and
kneaded it.  Soon they both exploded together in orgasm.


After they calmed down, they cuddled and fell asleep together.


Sam woke up later, due to another nightmare he couldn't remember to
find Elizabeth missing.  He sat up and looked around.  She walked into
the room from the bathroom, her hair up in a bun.  "Oh, I'm sorry, did
my leaving the bed wake you?"  Sam just made a kind of assenting sound
which Elizabeth took as a yes.  "Sorry.  But since you're up anyways,
can you help me into my corset?"


Sam got out of bed and helped secure her into the corset.  "Why don't
you crawl back into bed and get another hour of sleep?  I have to be up
early to get the kitchen ready."


Not wanting to risk more nightmares, but not wanting to bother
Elizabeth, he lied, saying, "If I go to bed now, I'll never be able to
get up in another hour."


As Elizabeth slipped on her panties, she said, "Well then, I guess
you'd better stay up."  She pulled a new dress out of the closet.  "Can
you get me a new pair of stockings out of the dresser?  Third drawer." 
Sam got a new pair of stockings for her and helped her into them, when
she sat down.  "A looker, sweet, and helpful.  You know, Sam, if you're
like this when you make your return to manhood, any woman would be
pleased to have you for a boyfriend."


"Thanks."


As she pulled the dress on over her head, she said, "I mean it, Sam.  A
girl appreciates a little courtesy, and TLC."  Sam just smiled as he
zipped her up.  She gave him a kiss on the cheek, and as she slipped on
her shoes, asked, "Sam, I...  I rarely ask anyone to do this more than
once in a row, but my wife isn't due back till day after tomorrow and I
was wondering..."


"If I'd stay another night with you?"  Elizabeth nodded shyly.  "I'd
love to."


Elizabeth smiled.  As she walked to the door, Sam could almost see her
change.  She looked back to him and said, in the stern voice of the
head of the kitchen staff, "If you get posted to the kitchen, remember,
it's not personal."


"Yes, milady."


After Elizabeth left, Sam quickly got dressed and returned to his
room.  He waited for a half an hour before Linda walked in.  "Oh,
hello, Sam.  I figured you'd still be in Elizabeth's room."


Perpetuating the lie, he said, "After spending the night with her, I
found I couldn't sleep when she woke up."


"That's kind of sweet.  Come on.  Let's get you into a new corset and
your new outfit."


They quickly dressed him in a new outfit (Sam found the maid's uniform
more comforting, but definitely less flattering to his new figure), and
went down to the kitchen.  Elizabeth was all business, acting as though
nothing had happened last night.  Sam checked the breakfast, and,
noticing that the toast seemed a little dark, mentioned it to
Elizabeth.  She agreed and quickly had it replaced.  Sam then took it
out and served Mistress Elaine.


The morning went mostly the same as it had the day before, until
shortly before Lunch.  A strange brunette walked in the kitchen.  Sam
found that a little strange, but she smiled knowingly and put her
finger to her lips in a shushing gesture.  Sam was about to say
something when he noticed others smiling conspiratorially.  He watched
in fascination as the woman walked right up behind Elizabeth, then
goosed her.  Elizabeth jumped straight up and spun around.  When she
saw who it was, she screamed, "Susie!" and hugged the woman to her. 
After a few seconds, the embrace ended and Elizabeth said, "What
happened?  You said you wouldn't be home for a couple days yet."


"The convention ended early, and I just couldn't stay away from you a
moment later."


Elizabeth kissed her deeply, then said, "You know I love you?"  Susan
nodded.  "Good.  Then get out of my kitchen."  As Susan smiled and
walked away, Elizabeth playfully swatted her behind.


As Susan walked by Sam, she asked, "This the new girl?"


"Yes, now go!"


Susan looked him up and down.  "You were right, she's a looker."


Elizabeth pointed to the door.  "GO!"


Just before Susie left the room, she turned back to Elizabeth and said,
"Now that I've met her, I'm doubly sure I'm right," and giggled and
ducked out of the room as Elizabeth threw a dish towel at her.


Sam asked one of the girls he was working with (a woman with a pair of
E cups), "What was that about?"


"Well, apparently, Susan has the ability to tell whether or not a
person is going to stay just by talking to them.  My guess is she
thinks you're going to stay a woman."


Sam continued to stir the pot of soup he was working on.  "Not bloody
likely."


"Okay."


"What?  She's never been wrong?  Nobody she's ever thought would stay a
woman left here a man?"


"Oh, sure."


"There you go."


"But every last one of them was back within a couple weeks begging
Mistress to change them back into a woman."


"Well, not me."


The woman gave him a knowing smile and just tended her vegetables.


Later that day, shortly after Lunch, Elizabeth pulled him aside, and
said, "Sam, I know I asked you to spend the night, and if you still
want to spend the night, you're welcome to come, but..."


"But your wife is back in town after a brief separation and you'd like
to spend it alone with her."


Elizabeth nodded.  "Do you mind?  Susie's told me that you're welcome
any time if you want to spend the night."


"I don't mind.  You and your wife have a great night together."


Elizabeth gave him a sisterly peck on the cheek, and ran back to the
kitchen.  Sam took a brief break to cry in the bathroom.


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


ONE WEEK LATER...


Sam had spent the entire week working the kitchen in the morning, and
going from post to post in the afternoon, learning the entire house
from stem to stern.  He found he liked most of the work.  His one
problem was the nightmares, always waking him up two or three times a
night, and always slipping away as he awoke.


Finally, one morning, he was about to take Mistress's food to her, when
Elizabeth stopped him.  He asked why, but she just stared at him, and
said, "Stay here.  Stay right here!" and walked out to the dining
area.  Sam froze in place, afraid to move, and wondering what he had
done.  Soon Elizabeth returned, and said, "Mistress wishes to speak
with you."  Sam picked up the tray, but she said, "Leave the food."


Sam set the tray down and walked out to the dining room.  "You called
for me, ma'am?"


"Sit down, Samuel."  Sam sat down.  "Sam, I've been getting some
complaints about you."


Sam gulped.  "What complaints, ma'am?  I assure you, I shall endeavor
to correct my behavior."


"Yes, I'm sure you will.  And that's part of the enigma."


"Ma'am?"


"Sam, when the mistakes first started rolling in, I thought you were
reverting to type.  It's happened before.  A man tries extra hard when
first transformed in hopes that I'll show some favoritism and change
him back, but upon learning that I won't goes right back to being his
old chauvinistic self.


"But that didn't happen with you.  All the girls say you have been
nothing but the most pleasant, most cordial, most... well, feminine
person.  They also say that if anybody points out the mistakes you
make, you will, without prompting, double your workload to make up for
it.  Now, Elizabeth comes out here and tells me that you almost let
runny eggs get by you, and asks me to intercede to find out what's
wrong.


"Do you have any idea how hard it is to get Elizabeth to notice
anything other than the kitchen when she's working?  Oh, if she'd've
come out here and said that she'd had to punish you for missing it,
that I could understand.  But she comes out here and asks for
intercession.  Not if you'd been reverting to your old type.


"So tell me.  What's wrong?"


"I...  I don't know what to say, ma'am.  Only to say that I promise to
do better from now on."


Mistress Elaine took Sam's chin in hand and turned his face from side
to side.  She seemed to consider him for a few seconds, before finally
asking, "Are the nightmares over with?"  When Sam let a brief look of
shock pass his face, she said, "That's it, isn't it?"  Sam lowered his
head and nodded.  "I told you to come to me if they continued for more
than a few days.  So what's happening in them?"


Almost crying, Sam said, "I don't know, Mistress.  I still can't
remember them."


"Still?  Alright, that's it.  Sam, I want you to return to your room
and rest there today.  You may stop by the library and pick up a few
books if you'd like.  But you're to take the day off."


"But what of my workload, Mistress?"


"The girls will understand.  You've made quite an impression on my
staff, and all are very concerned for you.  Now, back to your room."


"Yes, ma'am."


Sam stopped by the library and picked up some law books (Mistress had a
large library with a large selection of all types of books) and
returned to his room.  He spent the day reading, and occasionally
falling asleep, only to be awakened shortly thereafter by more
nightmares.


It was around 7 that evening when he heard a knock on his door.  "Come
on in."


The door opened and Mistress Elaine walked in.  "Good evening,
Samuel."


"Mistress."


Sam started to rise, but Mistress halted him with a gesture.  She sat
down beside him and said, "Sam, I've been talking with the girls, and
the more I talk, the more I'm convinced that your problem is not a
reversion to chauvinism.  You have been kind, considerate, and,
although not outgoing, neither have you been selfish with your
affections."


Sam blushed, "Sex, you mean?"


"Sex is included, but you also have been free with kisses and hugs and
the more subtle expressions of affections."


"Well, it only seemed fair.  Everybody was always so nice with me."


"That's what I'm talking about.  Most men get so focused on their own
problems in looking like a woman that they only think of themselves, if
they're even willing to try sex as a woman.  But you, you're willing to
give as much as you get."


"So what is my problem?"


"I think I know, but you're not going to like my analysis."


Sam shuddered and said, "Go ahead, please.  Anything must be better
than this."


She put her hand kindly on his.  "Sam, I've done a poll of the ladies
in the house whom you've slept with.  You have fondled tits, ass,
cocks, and, surprisingly even given and accepted blow jobs.  The one
thing you haven't done, is fucked or been fucked."


Sam gulped audibly.  "So?"


"So I think you like what you have done, and you're afraid to take what
you consider that last step because you're afraid of what it might mean
to you."


"So what's the solution?"


"A solution I hesitate to use.  I don't like the principle involved."


"What?"


"Sam, you have to take that final step.  You have to accept a dick up
your ass."


Sam backed up away from her, trying to retreat across the bed.  "NO!"
he screamed.


She grabbed him by the arm and said, "Samuel!  Stop!"  He tried to pull
away, but she was surprisingly strong.  "Samuel, if I must, I will call
in some of the girls to restrain you!  Now stop!"  Sam froze in place. 
"You have your choice.  This can be done face to face or with you on
your hands and knees."


Not wanting to face what was going to happen next, Sam said, "I'll be
on my hands and knees."


"Turn over."


Sam got on his hands and knees.  "Who will be doing this to me?"


"I will."


"You?  With a dildo?"


"No.  Like my staff, I, too am a result of my biochemical know-how." 
Sam was utterly surprised.  In the entire time he had worked here, he
had never even considered Mistress as being a she-male, as being
anything less than a full woman.  Sam looked over his shoulder,
curious.  Mistress had her dress lifted and he could see her stroking
her member to hardness.  As she moved closer to him, he closed his eyes
and tensed up.  He felt her hands stroking his hips and abdomen. 
"Relax, Samuel, don't make this any harder on yourself than it has to
be."


Sam tried to relax, but the tension was still there as Mistress forced
her way into his ass.  Sam felt the pain of penetration and tried even
harder, but the more he tried, the worse it got.  Thankfully, Mistress
seemed to understand, and she used her hands to roam his body, stroking
legs, abs, breast, even his dick, and, despite himself, Sam found
himself relaxing into it, even helping.  They moved together, Sam
finding himself moaning in pleasure, eventually exploding in orgasm
together.


After they were finished and Sam had recovered he collapsed on the bed,
sobbing into his pillow.  Mistress Elaine understood the feelings the
others had towards Sam as she felt a desire to take Sam in her arms and
hold him, but she knew that he needed to be alone with his thoughts,
and silently left the room.


Sam fell asleep sobbing and dreamed strange, disturbing dreams, dreams
that were really long buried memories.  For, you see, Samuel Nevada had
a secret.  A secret so hidden even he didn't know about it.  A secret
Sam was about to face...


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


All comments, suggestions, etc. may be sent to me at
jrdss@micronet.net



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