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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o This part of my collection offers a very wide variety of stories. o
o They have been submitted by people from all over the world. Also from o
o alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no particular order to this o
o section of my collection, other than offering them to you in alpha- o
o betical directories. o
o I don’t believe in categorizing things. "I don’t want to be typed o
o therefore I don’t type things myself." I think it’s a lot more fun to o
o browse around and find 'little' surprises, and topics that you might o
o not have even thought of looking for. I hope you enjoy your time among o
o Kristen’s book shelf directories. o
o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult entertainment o
o and should not be read by minors. Thank you, Kristen Becker o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Alana
by She-Devil
*****
Alan looked himself over in the mirror carefully, picking a bit of
fluff or lint here and there from his tight, pink, angora sweater dress.
The black patent belt around his waist was too wide and tight and the
black patent spikes on his feet were too tall for him to ever think of
walking very far.
Alan combed a little more mousse through his ultra-short champagne
pink hair. The punkish single finger of hair, tinted from pink to
lavender, hung at his nape down between his shoulder blades. His make
up was perfect. In the mirror, Alan was an alluring, sexy woman - all
except for the neat dark mustache `she' wore.
Getting some white wine from the fridge, he still couldn't believe
how he had gotten himself into this. Trapped as a woman with breasts,
figure, and all! And all over a stupid mustache.
Before all this, Alan Ross was one of the up-and-comers on Wall
Street. He made big money, had all the hot investments, was definitely
loaded. Along the way he met Sheila, blonde and beautiful, the perfect
sort of female accessory for a soon-to-be power broker in the big time
money game. Sheila moved in and made herself useful.
Sheila started to input Alan's transactions into the personal
computer in his study. Then, she started to run his projections.
Sheila handled his bills, his calls, his schedule. With Sheila doing
the grunt work of his life, Alan did whatever he pleased. He certainly
had the time.
Christmas Day was Sheila's birthday and Alan had a pave diamond
bracelet from Tiffany's for her. But Sheila seemed distant and sullen.
Oh what the hell! She's probably just starting her period thought Alan.
"Sheila, I got you something to show you just how much I appreciate
you and all you've done. I wanted it to be something really special and
I hope you like it."
Sheila ooed and aahhed but still she seemed not quite right.
"What's up, Sheila? You're not yourself. Want to tell me about
it?"
"I know it's silly, but there is something that I'd really like.
It wouldn't cost a thing, but I know it would be asking a lot of you."
"So tell me what it is and maybe I can make it happen."
"Would you shave off your moustache? You see it really bothers me.
I keep getting tickled by when we kiss and I don't like the way it looks
on you."
No way! Alan was well aware that at 5'6" and 135 pounds that he
was on the delicate side for a man by anyone's standards. His moustache
was part his `masculine' image, part of what made him one of the boys.
Sorry, but shaving it off was something he wouldn't do for anybody.
"Sheila, I love you, really I do but I don't think I can do that.
I would look like a kid or a girl or something if I shaved it off."
"Dammit Alan! If you loved me you'd do it. I bet you'd rather
dress like a girl than shave that stupid thing off."
Angry now, Alan retorted. "If that's what you want to hear, you're
damn right! I would. I'd rather dress like a girl than shave my
moustache off."
Sheila stormed out, sulking. These arguments are a drag. I need
to get her in line. If she's going to start breaking my balls, this
bitch is history. Alan stewed alone.
* * * *
Sheila slipped out of bed. Alan snored noisily and stirred as she
left but remained out of it.
In the bathroom, Sheila pulled a small glass vial from behind a
picture. Morphal X, the latest project at X Industries, where it was
referred to as M-X. She knew the name came from the word morphallaxis,
meaning regeneration of a part or transformation of one part into
another by means of structural reorganization with only limited
production of new cells. Sheila had paid a fortune...well, Alan had,
after all it was his money.. for this stuff. Still experimental and
hard to find even on the black market, it worked by taking up the fatty
deposits and water buildup in the body and redistributing all that mass
to the hips and breasts. X Industries saw potential in it to replace,
or as an adjunct to, cosmetic surgery but hadn't dealt with the side
effects of rapid hair growth and loss of height. How much to give Alan?
The instructions said one cc for every twenty pounds. After his
macho pig act tonight, Sheila wanted to make sure he got what was coming
to him. The right dosage should have been 6.75 cc's, but the needle
capacity was 9 cc's, so that's what Sheila filled it to. A little spray
anesthetic hid the prick of the ultra-fine needle when Sheila slipped it
into Alan's rear and he soon had the powerful drug coursing through his
body.
* * * *
"Oh my God! What's happened to me?"
Alan was standing in front of a full length mirror by the time
Sheila got to his room. Nice job that M-X did. Alan was shorter by at
least two inches. He had what looked like a fat pair of `C' cup breasts
and his hips were getting nice and wide.
"Shut up, you little sissy!"
Alan saw Sheila for the first time. She was dressed head to toe in
black leather. In her six inch heels, she towered over the rapidly
feminizing male.
"Sheila, what did you do to me?"
"I took you at your word. You said you would rather look like a
girl than shave off your moustache. Now, you do. And a very sexy girl,
I must say."
Sheila caught a handful of Alan's now shoulder length chestnut hair
and pulled him to his toes.
"Let's get something straight from the beginning. I'm a lot
stronger than you, I'm a lot smarter than you, and if you don't do
exactly as I say, I'll make your life hell."
Too terrified to speak, Alan could only nod his submission. To his
dismay, Sheila pulled box after box of woman's clothing from the
closets. It was obvious that she'd been planning this for some time.
"I have to make a few phone calls. While I'm busy, I want you to put
all your new clothing away neatly and throw all your old men's stuff in
these boxes." Alan was left in a daze as Sheila made her way to the
study.
First, out came all the male clothes; suits, slacks, shirts, and
shoes. In went dozens of pairs of sexy panties and bras. The bras
seemed to run in sizes from 38C to 44D. These were followed by all
sorts of frilly lingerie including tap panties, stockings, and garter
belts. There were also several corsets that looked like they would be
very uncomfortable to wear.
Then there were the dresses, skirts, blouses, and sweaters. And
the shoes! By the time Sheila returned, Alan had the bedroom switched
around as ordered. Every stitch of male clothing was boxed and ready to
go.
"Well now, Alana. Oh yes, I've decided to call you Alana. We
certainly can't call you Alan. Here are the rules: You are to get up
every morning at 6 A.M. I want you dressed in your Maid's Uniform, made
up, and in the kitchen by seven. At 7:30, you will serve me breakfast
in bed."
"After I leave for work, you will change into whatever clothes I
have specified for you to wear that day. From then, until noon, you
will clean the place from top to bottom, whether it's clean or not."
"At noon, you can eat the lunch I leave for you."
"After lunch, you will change into your third outfit of the day and
watch soap operas and talk shows all afternoon. I'll be taping them so
you had better pay attention. I might just ask a few questions. God
help you if you don't know the answers."
"Just before I return home, you will change again and have a drink
ready for me. After the dinner you will cook and serve, another change
of clothes for you and time to get all your changes for the next day
laid out, give yourself a beauty facial, and, of course, care for your
precious moustache."
"See, that's the biggest joke of all. You won't grow any more
facial hair, but you do have a little moustache problem, don't you? So
many girls do. Well, if your a very, very good girl and you beg me
every night before I put you to bed, I might let you have it
electrolysized off.'
Alan looked at himself in the mirror. Unbelievably, he hadn't
noticed. His moustache was still there, ludicrous now on such a
feminine face.
"Sheila.." My God, he thought, even my voice is changing!
"Sheila. I'm begging you. Let me shave it off. I'll shave it off
right away and keep it off for good. Just don't do this to me. I'll do
anything you want..."
Sheila cut off Alan's quivering plea. "You'll do whatever i say
because I tell you to and you'll keep that moustache until I decide to
believe that you are sincere."
"Now get dressed. Someone's coming over, and I have plans for
you."
* * * *
Alan's face was burning hot. His hair had been washed and was now
being cut. Cut really short, maybe a quarter of an inch long. The
floor was covered with long brown hair. One long lock of hair was left
to trail down his back, and Alan was forced to sit as a thick white goo
was worked into his hair. After a few minutes, his scalp was burning,
but no one paid him the least attention. Finally, the hairdresser put
his head back in the sink and rinsed his hair thoroughly for nearly
twenty minutes. Now another lotion was being rubbed in. Alan couldn't
see himself, they had covered the mirrors. When she came to the single
lock down his back, she seemed almost to be painting. Rinsed again, now
he could see what had been done to him.
His hair was pink and that tail was purple. And so short! The
hairdresser looked at Alan in his black spandex jumpsuit with the big
chrome industrial zipper running down between his legs and snickered.
"Listen, Dearie, I can't wait for you to overcome your little
moustache problem and come into my shop for a total beauty treatment.
I'd love to help you stay pretty like this."
This was part of Sheila's plan and Alan new it. Even after she had
bonded the false pussy... Sheila called it a duralatex vagiform...to
cover his male genitals, Sheila had made sure that the hairdresser knew
exactly what was being done to him.
Alan was setting out tomorrow's changes under Sheila's strict eyes.
Six changes to plan for, with accessories and make up to suit. Looking
at what was now laid out made him feel even more sick and anxious.
Alan had a hot, perfumed, bubble bath, followed by a mud mask
facial. Sheila laced him into a wasp waisted corset that pushed his
breasts up high and compressed his waist substantially. From 26 inches
to 21, Alan felt cut in half. But scarier was the fact that the edges
did not meet in back. It was going to get worse.
There were ankle boots with ballet toes and no heels that locked
his feet straight and stiff. Satin mittens that buttoned up to his
elbows made his hands useless. Finally, after rubbing skin creams into
his face, Sheila laced a lined satin helmet about his head. A rubber
sponge filled his mouth. He could breathe through it but barely. The
mask made him blind, deaf, and dumb.
Sheila arranged her subject on the bed, his big breasts thrusting
upwards nicely. Using wide satin ribbons from D-rings at his toes and
hand pods, Sheila pulled Alan spread-eagle on the black satin sheets.
The white satin of Alan's bondage contrasted fabulously. It was all
going perfectly.
Lastly, Sheila wheeled over a drip stand with a fat enema bag
hanging from it. Into the bag she poured a powder and a big pitcher of
water. `X Industries Destabilized Animal Fat', that's just what this
sissy needs, thought Sheila. This stuff was reduced to a ratio of
sixteen to one so that one ounce equaled a pound of fat. Sheila added
another drop of M-X to the mix and fixed a long plastic tube from the
bag to the white access tube jutting so conveniently from Alan's mouth.
So tomorrow, my little sissy will be ten pounds heavier, and with
the M-X, it will go to all the right places. Sheila couldn't help
giggling to herself as she watched the treacherous fluid beginning to
drip into Alan's sponge gag. He would have to drink every drop just to
breathe. And in the morning, when all his clothes are tight...maybe
even too tight to get on! Sheila found herself laughing out loud and
not ever wanting to stop.
* * * *
Alan carried the tray carefully into Sheila's bedroom. His dress
was much too tight to go quickly. Thank God it was a stretchy fabric.
At least he had been able to wiggle into it. And the way his breasts
stuck out was really embarrassing. They hadn't looked this big last
night. A 38C bra hadn't fit this morning, and now the 40D felt a little
snug.
"Good morning, Sheila. Your breakfast is served."
Sheila eyed her latest undertaking. Look at the butt on this one.
Alan had to be 40 inches across the hips and he was much more busty now.
Alan couldn't keep the sway out of his hips now when he walked, and his
hobble skirt only served to accentuate his feminine gait. But then,
there was that silly moustache.
"Good morning, Alana. How did you sleep?"
Fearing some trick, Alan smiled. "Very well, thank you."
Alana, I don't want you calling me by name anymore. Please refer
to me as Ma'am and, whenever I enter or leave a room, I'll expect you to
curtsey."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"And keep your eyes down. Speak only when spoken to. I want to
see your hands limp at your sides unless doing something at my
direction. And stand with your back very straight and shoulders back."
Alan made the various adjustments as Sheila spoke. Visibly
chastened, he docilely followed behind his Mistress as she showered,
dressed, and prepared to leave.
At the door, Sheila stopped to give final instructions. "Alana, I
want you to have this place immaculate when I return, or I'll put you
over my knee."
* * * *
How could he clean dressed like this? Alan put down the lame stole
that matched his long formal dress and polished the table. In two
hours, he had put the entire downstairs right. Lunch was a tossed dry
salad with diet soda.
Now he was settled in, dressed head to toe in clinging black velvet,
watching soap operas. Would Sheila really tape them and ask him
questions about them? This was getting out of hand, how to escape?
At dinner, Alan was a vision in blue taffeta and, after dinner, a
vixen in red satin. After all his changes were set out, and Alan was
bathed, his routing changed.
"Put this on."
`This' was a black rubber girdle, heavily boned, with two hard
prongs built into the crotch. Alan whimpered as first the longer fatter
one was inserted and then driven deep into his false vagina, exciting
his cock under it. It was soon followed up his rear by it's mate. Alan
laced up the girdle, pushing and pulling his bottom into two perfect
globes. Then came the corset, the hand pods, and the heel-less boots.
Was it the same corset? It seemed even narrower in the waist. Helmeted
and spread-eagled, Alan couldn't see Sheila hook up another bag of
forced fat feeding. But this time she added a few new goodies.
Lactamorphonate-M. A dangerous test hormone designed to induce
milk production in cows. First tested in the dairy industry, human
females had been exposed by accident and found their breasts converted
to constantly flowing milk factories.
A mild stimulant and aphrodisiac were blended in. The tube was
hooked up and Sheila made sure that Alan was getting his hormone
milkshake. Then she attached two wire leads to the plugs filling Alan's
holes. The vibrations made Alan go rigid. For the rest of the night,
at random intervals, Alan would have a vibrator going in either his
pussy, ass, or both.
Sheila couldn't wait for tomorrow.
* * * *
Alan tried to tell Sheila, but she wouldn't listen. Those things
inside him had been vibrating. They really had! And now his breasts
were even bigger. Only his 44D bras fit right now. His skirts still
fit, but all his dresses and blouses were ridiculously tight across the
bust. Looking at himself, in the mirror, in his exercise leotard, Alan
knew how foolish he looked. So sexy, with a man's moustache.
Sheila wouldn't listen to him beg. It was going to take going
through whatever she had planned for him, before he could remove the
moustache, and he was trapped for the duration.
Why were his breasts growing so much? What was Sheila up to? When
this was over and he was back to normal, Alan was definitely getting rid
of Sheila. She was too damn dangerous.
Exercise leotard. Nurse. Ballerina. Go-go girl. Cocktail dress.
Today, it was all green and white. Alan had given up on trying to guess
where Sheila was taking him. Time to get into his tutu and watch his
soaps.
* * * *
Alan was in obvious discomfort. His corset was laced down to 18
inches and his breasts were pumped up to 48DD's on M-X and his force fed
diet. Sheila took notes as Alan struggled, tied to the bed. Hmm, third
night on Lactamorphonate-M. Second night on Esterase-L. That one was a
banned hormone used to put breeding stock in heat full time. human
females exposed to it had become sexually insatiable. Now was the night
to start him on Detestosterone. This hormone attacked any male hormone
in the subject's body. It created a craving in the subject to remedy
the loss of hormonal balance, since every normal human body produces
both male and female hormones. Those exposed became addicted to male
hormones, needed them in their system. Source of first preference was
their species sperm. Won't Alan be surprised at all the special things
about himself?
Sheila grabbed one of Alan's massive breasts and squeezed. A
stream of milk shot up into the air.
Good! Sheila thought. By tomorrow he'll be a regular cow, pumping
himself twice a day. I can't wait to see him drink his own milk.
* * * *
Alan sat at the kitchen table. The electric pump hummed noisily.
How can this be happening to me?
One container was full and Alan was busy filling the second.
Trying to put on a bra had brought forth a flood of milk. Alan
panicked, but Sheila had explained that this was just a rare, but
expected, side effect of the feminizing process. If Alan did as he was
told everything would be alright. So Alan had learned to use the breast
pump and now had to pump himself every other hour. It wasn't hard to
tell when he was overdue; his breasts felt like they would explode.
Alan switched the bottles and watched as the third was half filled
before he went dry. Adjusting his nursing bra, Alan carried the bottles
to the refrigerator. Neatly lined up inside were another ten. At this
rate he might fell thirty a day. And he felt so hot. Itchy. He kept
rubbing his false vagina trying to find some relief. Alan had looked
for his dildo girdle, but couldn't find it.
That afternoon as Alan pumped himself yet again, he found himself
looking at the crotches of the men on television, not realizing that he
was doing so. I wonder what it would be like...
* * * *
Sheila sat in the study and reviewed her lover's progress. His
breast growth had stopped at 55DD and Alan was pumping out more than
twenty ounces of milk every two hours. His uncorsetted waist was down
to 18 inches, while his hips had been compressed to stay at 40. He now
stood 5'2" and weighed 147 pounds, mostly tits and ass.
This evening when Sheila had shown him a much more aggressively
endowed version of the latex girdle, Alan had been quite willing to
impale himself and insert the leads. Even now, she could hear him
sighing thorough another orgasm. The hormone drip was eagerly devoured
after Sheila had added a touch of sperm to the brew. In a short time,
she had taken Mr. Wall Street and turned him into a balloon titted cow,
constantly in heat, and dying for a cock to suck.
The fool probably thought that this was all over a moustache.
Hardly! Sheila wanted to be rich and Alan certainly had been.
Tomorrow, Alan would be drugged and taken to a clinic where he would
undergo the surgery which would make him a complete woman. If things
went okay there, it wouldn't be long before Alan got what was coming to
him and so would Sheila.
* * * *
Alan felt awkward. The new gleaming black corset did a lot to
support his enormous swollen mammaries, but to actually walk around with
his breasts bare, with little clear plastic cups catching the milk that
leaked out to run down tubes to the collection bottles mounted on his
hips! His panties were crotchless and the smell of sex followed
everywhere he walked. And the men! He couldn't keep his eyes off them.
Had that stretch in the hospital turned him gay or what?
"Thank you for coming tonight." Sheila stood tall and glamorous in
the middle of the room. "I know the circumstances are odd but Alan
wanted it this way. All his life, Alan knew he was a woman in a man's
body. He has gone through terrible trials to correct nature's mistake.
He has worn a little stage moustache tonight to remind you of the old
Alan and tonight he'll remove it, to show you the new Alana."
The guest were staring at Alan and at, what was obviously, a vagina
nestled between his legs and made conspicuous by the crotchless panties
he wore. They marvelled at the bizarre fittings on his breasts, indeed
at the massive size of his tits. Alan was oblivious to his surroundings
and had been for some time. He wasn't even aware that he no longer wore
an artificial pussy. His thoughts were kind of vague; so what if the
moustache is gone? So damn what. Just look at that hunk over there!
"So if Alan will come up and sign a few documents, we can move the
evening along." Alan signed a petition for a name change from Alan Ross
to Alana. That was going to be his full name, just Alana! He gave
power of attorney over all of his affairs to Sheila, and then deeded all
his property and transferred all his assets to her. He could never deny
it. Everyone had seen him sign away his fortune.
Most of the people drifted off, dazed at the spectacle of Alan so
naked and degraded. But some stayed. Special people, friends of Sheila
who had been promised a party like no other. Strong hands picked, the
now tiny Alan, up and placed him, breasts down, in a metal frame. His
big boobs swung free. A latex head harness that left his face free was
first laced tightly on and then used to force his head up, facing
directly ahead. A thick O-ring forced his jaws wide. Alan's legs were
separated and tied with padded cuffs to rails that left his entire
crotch exposed and ready.
Someone entered Alan's new sex from behind. It felt so good to
him. Now, someone was taking out an enormous cock and feeding it to
him. Alan's throat opened to engulf the hard rod. It only took a few
slight adjustments to the frame and Alan was enjoying his first deep
throat.
The pull of gravity on his breasts wasn't enough to keep the milk
flowing. His breasts were taut with pent up milk. Alan's little hands
kneaded and pulled at his mams, drawing the milk out. Milking himself,
while being filled at each end, Allen couldn't remember how he had
gotten here, except that Sheila had been so good to him to get him so
much action.
Sheila stood back and watched as her former lover, now simply a
horny slut and not good for much other than as a party favor for the
male guests, performed. Amazing! It's like this was what all he,..I
mean, she.. was meant to do her entire life. Whatever, it's all she'll
ever do from now on. Sheila looked back as she went off to another part
of the party. Alana was working on a new set of cocks. I wonder if
Alana will ever remember having been a man, or if she'll even care.
Alana never saw Sheila go. Someone changed her bottles and she was
perfectly content.
FIN