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{Pervette}TG: The Girl Inside (2/5) (M/F, M/M, CD, femdom)

This story was written by Princess Pervette.  Despite a 
certain compatibility, I am not the author.  I am posting it for 
Princess Pervette because she can't.  -- Vickie Tern

Warning:
Contains adult material.  Not to be read or downloaded by persons
considered underage in the jurisdiction in which they live.

May be posted to any appropriate newsgroup; may be archived on
any not-for-pay Web site.









"But Lau...I mean, Mistress...you don't expect me...?"

"I'm expecting a great deal of you, Baby.  This is only the beginning.  You
aren't a girl yet, but by the time I'm done, you're going to be much more
of a girl than you ever bargained for.  And you're going to ask me to do
it.  You'll beg for it.  You'll see.  Now, get that bra on over your new
boobs and we'll see whether it's You."  I raised the bra into position and
put the straps on my shoulders.  I felt the tightness of the bra about me
and the weight of my new breasts on my chest.  It was strange.

Mercifully--I guess--her dressing stopped with the bra and panties.  But
before we left her--I mean, my--room, she got out a tape and measured me.
All over.

"I'm going to have to get you clothes, Baby, and I need to get the right
size."

She even got out one of those metal things they use to measure feet and
measured mine.  High heels, I thought.  Oh, my God.

"Oh, Baby, you have nice measurements!  Ideal for what I have in mind.  I
can't wait to see how you look in all the things I'm going to get for you."

She went back to the dresser again.  "One more thing.  It's customary
for a Mistress to collar her slave.  You must know about that; it's been
discussed on the newsgroup.  Usually a heavy, black leather collar,
sometimes with metal studs on it.  To mark him as her property."

But what she held up was a delicate object, a garter, pale blue and covered
with ruffles.  "I think leather would be a bit too...mannish, don't you?
For the girl you're going to become?  This is a much prettier thing to
wear.  And a garter will be so much more appropriate for you than a
collar."

She handed it to me.  "Kiss it," she said.  "Kiss the mark of your
slavery."  I was light-headed as kissed it and then drew it up my leg.
"There.  You'll wear this all the time from now on, Baby.  Every day.  This
garter on your leg means you're mine.  You are going to become my own
little girl."

We left the room.  I walked beside her, conscious of the garter on my bare
leg.  "No, Baby.  You're my servant now.  My feminized servant.  Walk
behind me.  Two paces."

I dropped back.  Naked except for bra and panties--and my garter--I
followed her to the kitchen.  I was walking on air.

She gestured toward the sink.  "Here's your first task as my servant:
dishes."  I came back to earth abruptly.  The sink was piled high.  They
seemed to be from more than one day's meals.  Some of the plates and pots
were thickly encrusted with solidified grease.  Servitude...this wasn't
what I had imagined as servitude.  Next thing I knew, I'd probably be
vacuuming the place and taking out the garbage.  My heart sank.

There was nothing for it, however.  She gave me a little white, ruffled
apron to put over my panties and I tackled the dishes.  It was a big job.
It took me the better part of an hour, and over all that time my Mistress
watched me and gave me occasional comments and instructions.  When I had
finished them, she showed me where they went and had me put them away.
Then I had to clean out the sink and scrub off the counter.

At the end, she said, "Good.  Well done, in fact.  All right, that's enough
for to-night.  You may go back to the vestibule and put on your men's
clothes.  All but the underwear.  You won't be needing that any more."  I
went and put my regular clothes on over the bra and panties.  And over the
garter.

As I was about to leave for my car, she gave me a little kiss on the cheek.
"You're off to a good start, Baby.  Phone me to-morrow morning at ten and
keep the afternoon free.

"Here are your assignments for to-night and to-morrow morning.  First,
throw out all your shorts.  You will never wear them again.  From now on,
you'll wear panties.  All the time, even under your business clothes at
work.  Those and your pretty blue garter."  She handed me another pair of
panties.  "Here's a fresh pair for to-morrow.

"Second, I want you to shave your legs.  I'll have nylons for you when you
get here to-morrow, and I don't want to see nasty, hairy legs under your
stockings.  Shave your underarms while you're at it.

"Finally, call that girlfriend of yours and dump her."

I stared at her.

"Look, Baby.  There's going to be no room for any woman in your life except
me.  Me and the woman you are going to become."

****


Part 2

I drove home in a daze, overwhelmed at the way Laura had taken control.

By the time I got home, the dazzlement must have been visible in my eyes.
I know my face was flushed.  When I entered our apartment, Chuck stared at
me.  "Ted, you look as if you had been hypnotized.  Are you all right?  And
what's happened to your shirt?  It looks...."

"I'm....  Chuck, I've been through the most amazing experience."

"Why?  What happened?"

"Chuck, she...turned me into a girl.  For two hours.  At her place....
It was strange...and wonderful."

I told him about my first visit to Laura's place.  About the panties, about
the garter, about the beating, about the breast forms.  I stripped down and
showed him the garter and my boobs.  And my butt, which was still red.

"Ted, I didn't know you went for that kind of thing at all.  Are you sure
you're going to want to go on with this?"

"I...I don't know, Chuck.  Part of me was horrified and part of me was
fascinated.  I've been looking for domination all my life, and now that
I've found it....  Chuck, it's exciting.  Frightening, but exciting."

He looked at me with concern.  "Is she going to be beating you all the
time?  That sounds like S&M, not just dominance."

"She said only this first time.  She wanted to make clear who's in charge.
As if I didn't know."

"I don't know, Ted.  She sounds like a dangerous woman."

"I don't know, either.  My head's still in a whirl.  I...I think maybe...
maybe I'm going to fall in love."

"With her or with what she's doing to you?"

I said, softly, "I don't know."

****

That night I slept with the panties and garter on.  My sleep was restless;
Chuck said the next morning that I had tossed in my bed and babbled in my
sleep.  The only word he could make out was "servant."

I didn't take the garter off at all, in fact, except when I showered the
next morning and carefully shaved my armpits and then my legs.  My legs
aren't especially hairy, but the difference was enough that they felt
strange shaved.  Then I put on the new pair of panties she had given me,
and replaced the garter.  The sign that I belonged to my Mistress.

That morning I called Marjorie.  That call is still painful to remember.
After the usual preliminaries, I took my courage in my hands and began,

"Marge, there's something I have to tell you.  You know we talked once
about the kind of man who wants to submit to a dominant woman?  Well...
I was sounding you out.  Marjorie, I'm that kind of man.  I never told you
that.  But now...I don't know how to say this, but I think I've met a woman
who's just that type...."

I didn't get any further.  Marjorie interrupted me.  She screamed at me.
She called me a pervert.  She said I was sick.  She said she didn't want to
have anything more to do with me.  Finally, she said,

"I want a normal boyfriend, Ted, not a freak.  Go back to that bitch from
hell, whoever she is.  I wish you joy of her!"

So she had done my job for me.  I didn't have to dump her; she dumped me.

****

At ten on the dot, I called Laura.  She told me to be at her place for
lunch.

I got there at noon.  Laura was waiting for me in the vestibule.

"Pantie check, Baby.  Strip."

I stripped, and she took note of the new panties, the garter, and my shaved
legs.  She smiled.

"Did you take that off when you went to bed?"

"The garter?  No, Mistress.  I slept in it.  And in the panties.  And I
only took the garter off when I showered and shaved."

She gave me a little smile.  "That's very good, Baby.  Very good indeed.
I think, in time, I'm going to love you."

She looked me in the eye.  "And you're going to love me.  Believe me, Baby,
you are.  And you're going to do all these nice things out of your love for
me."

She gave me a bra to match the new panties I was wearing.  When I had
gotten it on, she said, "Now, come on in.  We have a lot to get through."

We went up to what I had begun to think of as my room.  I had forgotten how
feminine it was--the colors and decorations.  She showed me the things she
had gotten for me.

"Okay, Baby, here's your first lesson for to-day.  Garter belt and nylons.
Pantyhose are more practical a lot of the time, but the garter belt is more
feminine.  And I want to train you to it."

The garter belt seemed to be made entirely of lace.  I was familiar enough
with garter belts, but only on the women I had known.  I had handled them,
but only in the process of undressing my girlfriends.  Holding one, feeling
the lace and the garters, and knowing I was about to put it on myself was
a completely different matter.  All the anxieties that had plagued me last
week when I had been making up my mind came back.  Something inside me
started screaming that this wasn't the kind of thing a man should be doing.
But Laura was waiting, and I shut the inner voice off, or rather, refused
to listen to it, as I put the belt on.

Then came the stockings.  I had seen enough girlfriends putting them on at
one point or another.  But my hands were trembling so hard I was afraid I
would damage them.  Fighting to keep calm, I rolled one up into a doughnut,
slipped it onto my foot, and unrolled it up my leg.  I smoothed it out and
clipped it to the garter clips.  Then I did the other one.

"Very good, Baby.  Now put your garter back on.  You remember that you have
to wear that all the time, don't you?"  I put it back on: the emblem of my
servitude.  Then she gave me a pair of slippers.  Pink with little white
fuzzies on top.

"Er...do I wear a dress, too, Mistress?"  I was afraid she would say Yes
and afraid she would say No.

She said, "No.  You aren't ready yet."

Not ready....

She had prepared lunch already, but she had me serve it wearing only what
I had on.  I wondered whether she was going to have me eat my lunch in the
kitchen, like a servant, but she had set two places at the table.  My chair
was lower than hers, however, by a couple of inches, so she looked down at
me all the time we were at table.

Over lunch, she asked me what Chuck had said when he had seen me.  When I
told her he had said she was dangerous, she smiled.

"He's right, Baby.  I'm a mighty wicked woman.  And if he knew what I was
going to do with you...well, what you and I are going to do with you,
working together...."

She asked me about Marjorie, and I gave her a brief summary of my phone
call.  I thought she would be angry when I told her what Marjorie had said,
but she laughed.

"`A bitch from hell'?  What a great girl!  I'd like to meet her some time.
Well, you're quit of her now."

I could see she was deeply pleased.  But then she turned serious again.
"You've been very good, Baby.  I'm proud of you.  You've done everything I
asked you to do.  Just perfectly.  I won't have to punish you at all."

When we finished lunch, I took the dishes out to the kitchen.  I was
getting ready to wash them when she said, "No, don't bother.  Just put them
in the dishwasher."

"In the dishwa...?"

"Oh, the dishes last night were just a test of your submission.  Like the
business with the belt.  You won't be doing that again."  She had me stack
the dishes in the dishwasher, and when I had turned it on, she took me by
the hand.

"You've been *very* good, Baby.  I'm pleased.  Sleeping in your garter...!
I was going to tell you you had to do that, but I forgot, and you did it
anyway, of your own free will."  She looked at me.  "Baby, I'm going to
have so much fun with you."

She took me back up to my bedroom.  "Now you get your reward for being such
an obedient servant."

She had me lie down on the bed.  Then she lay down next to me and started
kissing me.  I thought I had been kissed by experts, but Laura was in
another league entirely.  Her tongue was all over my mouth; then she was
kissing and licking my cheeks, my eyes, my ears.  I began to get hard.

She looked at my panties, tented out by my growing erection.  "We seem to
have a problem here."  She flicked it gently through my panties with her
finger.  Then she started kissing my legs, the calf of one, up to the
thigh, then down the other thigh to the calf.  I had never known I could be
as hot as she was getting me.

Then she drew down my panties.  My erection sprang free.  "Oh, Baby, you're
so cute!"  Cute...the word was bothersome.  Vaguely offensive.  A man's
erection could be big, handsome, splendid, awe-inspiring, frightful, maybe
--even ugly.  But not "cute."  It made me feel diminished.  Like a pet.
Like a lap dog.

She went on: "I've been wondering what that would taste like."  And she
licked it along the bottom, from the base to the tip.  I thought I was
going to come right then.  But instead of following up with my cock, she
started to lick my balls.  Then she put her mouth around me, sucked one of
my balls into her mouth, and started gently popping it in and out.  I was
in heaven.

Finally--it seemed like an age later--she took my cock into her mouth.
I've had girls to that before, but no girl was ever like Laura.  Her lips
and tongue never stopped moving for a moment.  I wondered whether there was
a special university that gave degrees in cocksucking.  If they had taught
Laura, she would have graduated with honors.

I wouldn't have expected a Mistress to give her slave a blow job.  But this
was a different kind of cocksucking: controlling, not subservient.  She may
have been sucking me, but she was still in charge.  The way she did it,
sucking my cock was just another form of control, and I lay there helpless
as she toyed with me.  Once when I bucked my hips, she gently but firmly
pressed them down.  She knew how to bring me to a peak, to the verge of
coming, so I could feel the first sensations deep in my loins, and then
how to ease off and keep me in suspense.  Up to the edge, and then back.
Again and again.  I was in agony.  Finally, I begged her, sobbing.
"Please, Mistress.  I can't stand it any longer.  Please, let me come!"

After what seemed like an age, she did.  She cupped my balls in the palm of
her her hand, massaging them gently, and reached down to my asshole with
one free finger.  That was it; I exploded.  I could feel some muscle down
in my prostate twitch with each pulse of my ejaculation.  And Laura took
it all in her mouth.  Then she kissed me.  I could taste my semen as she
pushed it into my mouth with her tongue.

"Take it from me and swallow it, Baby.  Have you ever tasted that before?"
she asked.  "A new experience, is it?  You'll learn to like it.  Girls do,
you know."

She eyed me thoughtfully.  "You're fun to play with, Baby.  I think next
time we'll tie you up.  That can be a hot experience."

Later, after I had recovered, she said, "Dominance uses the carrot and the
stick, Baby.  You tasted the stick last night.  But I know from experience
that if you really want control, the carrot works better."

She looked at me.  "Now it's my turn.  Panties back on.  Now."

Sex had made me forget about them.  It had made me feel almost like a man
again.  But it was clear that she didn't mean that feeling to last.  With a
sigh, I put them back on.

She heard the sigh.  "Why did you sigh?  Don't you like them, Baby?  Even
after the reward I gave you for wearing them?  Well...no matter.  Sooner or
later, you're going to love them.  Probably sooner.  You'll beg for them.

"Now, back onto that bed.  On your back."

I lay back down on the bed.  Laura slipped her panties off, then climbed
onto the bed and straddled me.  "My turn, Baby.  If you're going to love
me, you're going to have to love me like a lesbian.  Girls don't fuck
women."  And she lowered herself onto my face.  I was buried under her slip
and her skirt.  Her feminine odors assailed me, setting my heart racing.

I had given girls oral sex in the past.  I enjoyed it, and I liked to think
that I was good at it.  But never like this.  Never having a girl ride my
face the way Laura did.  Whatever she wanted licked, she presented to my
mouth and tongue to be licked.  Whatever she wanted kissed, she presented
to me the same way.  Except for her hissed instructions--"Kiss it.  Lick
it.  Reach with your tongue.  Deeper"--I might as well have been nothing
but a convenient fixture.

Reduced to a fixture.  A woman's masturbatory fixture.  Nothing more than
that.  This was domination, all right!  She could dominate me on these
terms any time she wanted to!  My mind reeled at the thought, and began to
get hard again.

"Stop that!"  I felt a slap on my penis.  Hard.  "You're my servant.  I
haven't given you permission to get hard."  She slapped me again.  "This
is for my pleasure, not yours.  Control yourself."

I fought to control my penis.  I thought...what does one think of?  "The
income tax," someone had once written in something I read.  I tried it.
Taxes.  Audits!  That did it.  I lapped and kissed and probed with my
tongue, following her whispered instructions, while I ridiculously thought
about the Internal Revenue Service.

Laura rocked on my face, washing me in her juices.  She was having orgasms,
I could tell.  Multiple orgasms.  There was no telling how long this would
last.  Back and forth.  First her clitoris, then her labia.  "Lick.  Lick
right there!  Now use that tongue.  More!  Ohh...deeper, Baby!"  The
flavor, the scent of an aroused woman, were all around me.  Think about the
IRS...!

Finally she climbed off me.  "Good, Baby.  Very satisfactory performance."

I caught my breath.  "Permission to speak, Mistress?"

"Yes, Baby.  What?"

"If it was satisfactory for you, it was more than satisfactory for me...I
mean, for your servant.  I felt as if I could happily spend the rest of my
life under you, serving you.  Am I out of line saying that?"

"You make it sound as if you had more fun doing me than when I was doing
you."

"Well...nobody would ever complain about your performance, that's certain.
But yes, it was a near thing."

Her face hardened.  "Look, Baby.  There are professional dominants in this
city who are well paid to feminize men who are keen on it.  Hard cash.

"I'm not a professional.  But I get paid, too.  My payment is the
satisfaction I get from reducing guys like you to mincing, simpering girls.
Guys who aren't keen on it.  That's my pay.  Turning you gradually into
girls and seeing you get to the point where you beg me for the next stage
in your feminization.

"You'll do this out of love for me.  But before love comes service.  And
that means my pleasure, not yours.  Yes, I'm going to use your lips, your
tongue, your mouth for my pleasure.  But it's my pleasure, not yours, and
if you like it too much, I'll have to save it for a reward for special
obedience and find other ways to get my fun.  And there are other ways,
believe me."

"I'm sorry if I've offended you, Mistress."

She bent over and kissed me.  "No, Baby.  Not at all.  That was a very
constructive attitude on your part."

She looked at me.  "Well.  There you were, wearing your panties and breast
forms and bra, making love to me like a woman.  You're almost there, Baby.
You're almost worthy to be called a girl."  After a pause, she added, "I
think maybe we can complete the process to-morrow.  Or early next week."

I spent the rest of the afternoon learning to walk in heels.  She unpacked
a brand new pair of pumps.

"These are only two-inch heels, Baby.  Don't worry, we'll get you into
something sexier later on.  But I don't want you to break your pretty
little neck learning to walk."

I sat down to put them on.  My God, I thought, what's happening to me?  A
week ago I was a normal man...well, almost normal, just hoping Laura would
be the dominatrix of my dreams.  And now here I was in nothing but a bra,
panties, garter belt, and nylons--and, of course, the inevitable garter--
and trying to get into a pair of high-heeled shoes.

They didn't fit.  I told her so.

"Oh, they fit all right, Baby.  But they're brand new and are going to have
to be broken in."  She paused and looked at me.  "I guess that applies to
you, too, doesn't it?"  She wasn't smiling.  "New and needing to be broken
in.  Well, I'll break you soon enough, Baby, never fear.  Oh, yes, it's
what you always wanted, I know; but now I'm leading you into experiences
you never expected.  And you're going to go with me out of love, aren't
you?"

She had me get up and stand in them.  I had worn them for less than a
minute, and already my feet were killing me.

"Just sit down again and get up again.  Keep doing that until you're used
to standing in them."

Then she had me take a few steps.  I teetered, and I was afraid I was going
to fall down.

"You're walking like a man.  Taking steps that are too big."  She found a
scarf and tied my ankles together, so that I could just barely put one foot
in front of the other.

"That's better, Baby.  But you're coming down with your full weight on the
heel.  You've got to take little steps, and you've got to point your foot
so the heel and toe land almost together.  And put one foot right in front
of the other, as if you were walking a tightrope.  Use your hips to keep
your balance."

I tried this.  I managed to walk a little more steadily, but I was
uncomfortably aware that I was mincing now.  Mincing, and wiggling my hips.
I remembered what she had said in the bedroom--"mincing, simpering girls."
When was I going to start to simper?

After an hour, I had had it.  "I'm sorry, Mistress, I just can't take any
more.  My feet feel like they're on fire.  Can't we please stop?"

"All right.  I won't ask you to walk in them any more to-night.  But
you're going to have to keep them on for just a few minutes more.  We need
pictures."

I was horrified.  Pictures.  Photographs.  Of me wearing nothing but bra,
panties, garter belt, nylons, and high heels.  And that ruffled garter on
my thigh.  "No.  That's out of the question.  Absolutely."

"But you see, Baby, we're going to want a record of your progress.  Right
now you look like a man in bra and panties and the rest of it.  And with
funny lumpy things stuck on your chest.  You look like a fool, in fact.
But as time goes on, and our work together continues, you're going to
improve.  You're going to look like a real girl."

"But I can't have photographs of me dressed like this floating around.  If
they fell into the wrong hands, they could ruin me.  Pictures are out."

"Oh, I don't think they are.  You're in too deep already.  Tell me...if
I tell you that either we take pictures or else you leave this house and
never see me again...which would you choose?  Where are you going to find
another woman like me?  There aren't too many of us, you know.  Unless you
would rather go to a professional.  And don't think they don't keep records
that could be just as damning.  When they don't use concealed cameras, that
is."

She paused and looked at me.  "So which is it to be?  More of that control
you've been wishing for, and photographs, or neither?"

I was torn.  I should have said, Neither.  I chose both.

She gave me an icy smile.  "That's very good, Baby.  A month from now
you'll look at these pictures we'll take to-day, and you'll laugh.  No; you
won't laugh.  You'll look at yourself in the mirror, at the pretty girl you
will be then, and you'll smile.  You'll be overjoyed at the improvement."

She must have taken two dozen pictures.  I stood, I sat, I walked, and she
kept snapping away, from the front, the side, and the back.

By the time she was finished, it was nearing dinner time.  "Okay, Baby,
we've had a good afternoon together.  I'm sending you home now."

"Er...the breast forms...?"

"...Will come off to-morrow.  Good night, Baby.  Don't forget your garter
when you change in the vestibule.  And be prepared to spend all day with me
to-morrow."

****
I arrived home shortly before dinner time with a package of bras and
panties Laura had given me to replace my boy underwear.  Chuck eyed me as I
came in.

"Your drag?" he asked, indicating the package.

"Bras and panties."

"My God, she's doing a number on you, isn't she?  I suppose the next thing
will be to toss all your shorts and T-shirts."

"I did that already.  This morning."

His eyes widened.  "And I thought that was the garbage you were taking
out."

"Well...it was garbage, sort of, I guess you could say.  I saved out a
couple of sets in case I ever have to go to a doctor.  But I'm not supposed
to wear men's underwear ever again."

"I suppose you're going to throw out all your shoes and wear heels next.
Do you still have that silly blue garter on?"

"Yes.  She was very pleased when I told her I slept in it last night."

"I thought you still had reservations about this feminizing business."

"Well...wearing a garter on your leg doesn't make you feminine."

"Yeah, right.  And giving guys blowjobs doesn't make you gay.  How far do
you have to go before she's really made you a girl?"

"Not much further, she said."

"Teddy, you've changed.  You're not the guy I roomed with all through
college and now here.  I thought I knew you.  Maybe not Mr Macho, but a man
through and through.  And now look at you.  After only two days.  I'll bet
you have a bra and panties on right now, haven't you?"

I gave him a sheepish grin.

"I don't know."  He sighed.  "I'll never understand you het guys.  Get
involved with a woman and she can wrap you right around her little finger."

"Chuck, I know; I'm going crazy.  Nothing like this has ever happened
before.  But I've never met a woman like Laura before.  If I had run into
someone like this in college, I'd have done the same thing back then.  The
chance to service..."  I stumbled.  "I mean, to serve someone like this
...you know, she's pretty magnificent."

"`Chance to service,' eh?"  He leered at me.  "I'd better not smell your
breath...."

I blushed furiously.

"You DID!" he exclaimed.  "You ate her out dressed in...God knows what.  My
God.  I've got a dike for a roommate!  A male dike!"

****

After the events of Friday night and Saturday, most of Sunday was an
anticlimax.  She kept me in my underwear all day, and I had to practise
walking in heels.

In the evening, to my relief, she finally took off my breast forms.  The
skin under them was damp and clammy, and the solvent irritated it, but she
said that would pass off overnight.

But the big event of the evening was the enema.  It was a new humiliation.
She was firm and not about to take No for an answer; but she was gentle as
she administered it.  Once I had resigned myself to the indignity, I found
I enjoyed the feeling of fullness and the eventual release.  This, I
thought, was the kind of experience I had been looking for.

But then she got out a funny looking object: a little pink plastic cone
with a rounded point and a sort of flange at the big end.  I looked at her.
questioning.

"This is a butt plug.  It goes just where you think it goes."

Oh, my God.

"Down on the bed, Baby.  On your back.  Lift up your legs."

"Mistress, is this really necessary?  I mean, how can I...?"

"Shut up!" she snapped.  "Girls get fucked.  You know that.  You aren't a
child.  What did you expect?  Get on the bed.  We've got to open you up."

end 2/5


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