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o o
o The Bookshelf Directories offer a very wide variety of stories. o
o They have been submitted by people from all over the world. Also o
o from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no particular order o
o other than offering them to you in alphabetical directories. o
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o All works are copyrighted to the author and may not be used for o
o profit without obtaining the author's permission in advance. o
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o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult entertainment o
o and should not be read by minors. o
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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
First Time (tg, bd, nc)
by Marlissa (evil@bay.com)
***
Kate heard the bell ring from downstairs and dashed to the mirror.
The reflected image betrayed no flaws. The lipstick was red and
thickly applied, giving the pouting lips a playful glow. The green
eyes were right too-- the dark eyebrows thinly plucked, the long
lashes batting with plenty of body and dark promise, the eyes
themselves clear, bright and green as polished emeralds. No eyeshadow
though-- the Teacher thought that eyeshadow on Kate gave a too-mature
look and Kate was only sixteen. Cheeks were smooth, with a complexion
that was clear but for the inevitable freckles of an Irish redhead.
Delicate fingers dabbed tempting perfume on pulse points and behind
pink earlobes as the face observed itself. Kate drew back the healthy
mane of thick auburn hair into a manageable ponytail, the practised
hands smoothing down the errant tresses into the big bowed red ribbon.
Too girlish? Kate wondered, then left the bow in place. Teacher liked
the girlish look and Kate always strove to make the Teacher happy. It
was the only way to get by from day to day. The sight check continued
as Kate inspected the skimpy garments that clothed the small, lithe
teenaged body. They weren't as sleazy as what Kate might be made to
wear, that what for sure. The others had to wear such slutty things--
crotchless panties, garter belts, fishnet stockings and open-nippled
brassieres.
Maybe I ought to be grateful, thought Kate. What looked back in the
full-length mirror wasn't too slutty. Just a matching bra and panty
set, pretty bright blue. And they weren't silk or anything-- just
Hanes For Her. The panties were French-cut and rested high on the
hips, clinging tightly to Kate's curvy tight midsection and butt--
simple and perfectly appropriate for a girl of sixteen. And the bra
wasn't some bullet contraption. Not that Kate could fill that out,
with an embarrasingly small set of 32A breasts. No, the bra was just
a soft blue cotton thing without wiring or teasing lifts. All it did
was cover the small pert things and give them a little definition and
the smallest shapely lift. All in all, Kate looked just like any
average-to-cute looking high school girl in her undies. No
cheerleader, but not desperate for a boyfriend either. And certainly
not some streetwalker. No, there was nothing unusual with what stared
back in the mirror, was there?
There was if the starer was really a boy, Kate thought bitterly. The
little cock thrummed in the chastity belt defiantly, if impotently.
But the crafty construction of the Teacher's equipment refused to let
the small cock out of its imprisonment. No surprise-- it hadn't for
eight months, ever since it had been locked on. Kate sighed, then
banished the taboo thoughts. The Teacher had once explained to Kate
the simple, too-obvious fact that it didn't do any good to think such
thoughts.
"These thoughts, they don't make you feel good, do they? And your
situation certainly isn't going to change, so it doesn't do you any
good, does it Kate?" Teacher was always so clear in his explanations,
everything so darn unarguable.
"Well, no sir," Kate answered simply. But a frown broke involuntarily
over Kate's lips, the kind that came even when ever effort was being
made to behave, to accept.
"Kate, your thoughts are not APPROPRIATE for a proper young lady. You
are a pretty, well spoken girl with a very pleasing attitude most of
the time. Now, I will see a happy smile on your face now-- frowns
will give you wrinkles and don't do a thing for boys."
And so Kate smiled brightly, especially at the mention of boys. Boys,
boys, boys. Everything was about boys and being appropriate. And
there was the real desire to act appropriately and an all-the-time
fear lurking deep down of boys NOT being attracted to Kate, Kate's
smile, Kate's face, Kate's body, everything Kate.
And now it was the Time. That was why Kate felt so nervous, so
flighty, so scared. Kate remembered a time when thinking wasn't so
hard, so difficult. The drugs and hypnosis and physchological
training and disciplining had all forced changes on Kate in the last
eight months, robbing the subject of independence of thought or even
trying to think.
"Pretty girls don't think-- they just smile, Kate. Understand?" the
Teacher had told Kate, who replied with a big bright smile. Oh yes,
Kate understood. Especially after a question had been asked. It had
been a simple one-- "Why are you doing this to me?" and the answer had
been an injection. Hours later, Kate awoke nervous and silly and
without any thought other than to NEVER, EVER to ask a question like
that again.
After that, the rest seemed to come in a rush. The dressing lessons,
the make-up lessons, the manners lessons, the hygiene training, the
constant body-shaping aerobics exercising, and all the rest. All of
it was accepted without questioning of any kind by Kate. Questions
would mean big words, big thoughts that weren't appropriate for a girl
like Kate.
There were conversations, though. With the Teacher. He would ask
questions and the answers would seem to spring out of Kate's mouth,
words that came so easily that they seemed to be put there by the
Teacher himself. And once Kate had dreamed that there were words that
broke the silence of sleeptime, words that Kate would use when awake.
But that must have been a dream indeed.
"Do you like math, Kate?" the Teacher would ask.
Kate would cast eyes down, smile foolishly. The auburn mane would
shake "no" and Kate would giggle. "Math is just for boys, Sir."
"Do you like sports, Kate?" The voice was so calm, so reassuring.
Kate always knew when the right answers were coming out.
Again, the long auburn hair shaking. "Sports are so icky, Sir!"
"But I bet sports interest you a little, doesn't it Kate?"
Kate grinned. "Football is fun-- to watch, I mean. Not to play.
Football players are so handsome." Was that answer right?
The Teacher smiled. "But you wouldn't like to play football, would
you Kate?"
A vapid giggle and a shake of that straight long lustrous auburn hair.
"What would you like to do, Kate?" the voice asked curiously.
Kate folded the small hands, unconciously checking the pink polish of
the three inch nails. "Well, Sir, I would like to make myself pretty
with the makeup you gave me and bake cookies for boys, just like I
learned."
The Teacher patted the auburn hair and Kate knew that the right answer
was given. "Of course you would my dear, and so you shall."
There were more conversations like that. As the weeks went on, Kate
learned what were the right answers and what were the wrong answers.
Also learned were the things that mattered most-- like keeping nails
polished, keeping dress hems from rising too high, to keeping hair
arranged perfectly. Learning when to smile brightly and when to
listen respectfully. Discovering how to walk like a lady in the high
heels Kate was given, careful always to walk by swinging the hips, not
bending the knees. How to keep arms up and always away from the body.
Oh, it was all so very important, the Teacher said. Otherwise, people
would be so disappointed in pretty Kate and we wouldn't want that
would we?
Oh, no, Kate mused, I know I wouldn't want that! Because when Kate
didn't give the right answer, it didn't take the Teacher long at all
to take Kate over his knee. The teenager hated waiting while he
yanked up the skirt and peeled down the panties. It seemed to take
forever as he raised his hand and then let it fall hard and fast on
Kate's bare smooth butt. The number of spanks depended on just how
wrong Kate's answer was. At first, the answers were painfully wrong.
But after awhile, Kate learned, really learned, to give the right
answers.
Because you couldn't just pretend to give the right answer. The
Teacher seemed to know just what was in Kate's head (again those
voices at night drifting in and out in the dark!) and if the right
answer wasn't given without so much a second's hesitation, gosh, Kate
was soon looking at the floor as the Teacher began "correction."
Oh, but the bell was ringing, the little tinkling bell outside. Kate
had to hurry, to make sure everything was right. The First Time was
ever so important, the Teacher said! Kate nervously checked the legs
and underarms for hairs missed in shaving, the eyebrow not perfectly
straight, the uneven patch of too-dry skin. Oh, it was maddening, all
the details you needed to be aware of when you were a teenage girl!
Especially for the First Time! And gosh, when you had been a boy to
start with, it took extra work, like the Teacher said!
Downstairs, in another part of the Teacher's gracious suburban home,
two men spoke. One, a distinguished looking man of perhaps fifty
smoked a pipe and thoughtfully listened to his guest. He wore an
expensive well-worn herringbone jacket which he frequently
investigated for more pipe tobacco. The man speaking was handsome,
thirty, and in a good mood. From his casual dress, well-defined
physique and confident demeanor, he might have passed for a polite
bouncer at a successful and upscale nightclub.
"So," the younger man continued, flexing an arm, "the subject is
prepared to your satisfaction?"
The older man grinned reassuringly. He nodded, the pipe never leaving
his mouth.
"I see. Well, tell me, what should I look for in terms of problems or
deviations from what you said I should expect?" The younger man
pressed, deliberately if delicately. His numeorus negotiations in
Asia had taught him the necessity of bringing up all details before
closing a deal.
The older man hooked his thumbs into the lapels of the English
herringbone. He liked to wear it in the late afternoons in the Fall
on days like this. It was a pleasure wearing a jacket like this.
Maybe that's why it seemed so appropriate to what he did. Looking in
the other man's eyes, he answered the question for the hundredth time.
He could calm all their fears by now by patiently explaination almost
by rote.
"Well," he began slowly, "Kate has been disabused of any notion that
'she' is a boy. The chastity belt allows her to relieve herself, but
doesn't allow for arousal. This will cause her pain as I suspect
arousal will occur at some future time," he skipped over this as a
feral gleam escaped from his guests eyes, "but she will learn to
accomodate it."
"How?" demanded the guest sharply. All questions must be answered.
"Why, through three factors, actually. First, pharmacologically, her
body chemistry has been altered. This was necessary in order to begin
the growth of her breasts. There is now more estrogen that
testosterone in the blood mix and she is now capable of generating her
own estrogen rather than injections. This alteration will stymy
penile arousal while igniting the physchological factor."
"Which is?"
"Which-" he paused, clearly perturbed by being interupted and showing
so," has been implanted through neural nets and hypno-physchosis.
These processes have supplanted many natural impulses and behavior vis
a vis the male and female gender. Kate's value system has been
rearranged so to speak, the blocks of values previously held now in a
different pattern, this having been effected through the nets and
hypno-processes."
Rather than interupt again, the younger man shook his head in
confusion.
The older man smiled. "All this means," he waved his hands as if to
wave away the confusion, "is that whereas eight months ago Kate was a
boy, with all the natural inclinations and desires of a fifteen year
old boy, he is now she, a sixteen year old girl-- with all the
inhibitions and feelings of a teenage girl."
"All?" pressed the other with a wicked smile.
"Oh, yes. Well, most. It is impossible to erase all the male
identity. But that is why the Maslow's Heirarchy of Needs is such an
important concept for you to understand in this regard. You're
familiar with it?"
The man scratched his head. "I can tell you the price of microchips
in Singapore, but I confess, it has been awhile since I was back here
at Elgin, sir. I don't recall what it is, but it sounds familiar."
The older man's eyes rolled in disappointment. "We take such care in
devisng this cirriculum for you boys, but--ah, well! Maslow was a
clinical physchologist who discovered that within each of us is a
series of needs which we need to satisfy on our way to
self-actualization, a term which basically means complete satisfaction
with our existence.
The basics are, as you would expect, food, shelter, clothing, and the
like. Next comes what we would think of as physical pleasure, then
wealth and power and so forth. Well, in Kate's mind we have displaced
the importance of female values with that of male values. She now
values female values as basic survival values but is attracted toward
male attributes in order to self-actualize. Understand now?"
The quizical look on the younger man's face was the silent reply.
"Very simple, you see. Kate finds absolutely none of the mystery she
used to find in things she has been trained to think are female--
things like beauty, grace, the desire to please, the urge to attract.
Those things are lower values, essentially the price she pays for
being what she is now-- the price of admission."
Comprehension dawned quickly on the business executive's face and he
nodded for the academic to continue.
"What she secretly longs for and values are what she has been taught
are male attributes-- strength, confidence and sureness of purpose,
even selfishness."
"So she what you're saying, if I get it, is that Kate isn't some prima
donna beauty queen now, right?"
"Oh, far from it! She's attractive, to be sure, but she doesn't
perceive her beauty to have any value in isolation from a male. None
of what she has to offer has any value without a male to please with
her charms."
"And there isn't any boy left in her?"
"There will be a marginal amount, but that is where the third factor
comes into play."
The man gestured with his finger. "I was going to ask you about the
third. Aren't the first two sufficient?"
The Headmaster's eyes widened. "I haven't educated and trained
juveniles this long without discovering that old fashioned discipline
works as many wonders as modern physchology and medicine!"
"Very good, I see," replied the guest. "Well, that takes care of the
subject's physical, emotional and mental well-being. What about the
legal implications of all this?"
The Headmaster handed him a sheaf of papers in a manila folder, which
his guest slowly paged through as the older man explained.
"The subject is a scholarship student whom the Academy took on as part
of a program with the local authorities. The subject has no known
family, had been hosted by a number of foster homes, and was
dangerously close to being remanded to a county facility for juvenile
deliquents, when accepted here. As a result, the subject was placed
under the legal auspices of the Academy. The subject was delighted to
be here." The older man smiled archly. "No surprise there, of
course. Were you aware that this is one of the most exclusive boy's
preparatory schools in the nation? We can count seven presidents who
prepped here and our scholastic achievements are too numrous to
mention. Why our SAT average--"
The younger man cut him off. "Sir, with all due respect, you forget I
prepped here. I am well aware of the Academy's well-deserved
reputation. Please, please just continue," he added smiling.
The older man shrugged. One of the problems of dealing with
youngsters all day was that you could easily forget how to deal with
adults! He chuckled. "Of course, of course. My apologies! Anyway,
it was reported back to the proper county offices and social workers
that the subject was not fitting in well, that in deed, was causing
difficulties for our other students. Naturally, the social worker who
came to investigate the subject's disappearence was quite disgusted.
When given the chance to get a first-class education all on
scholarship, without the county having to spend a dime, the fact the
the subject ran away was enough to put the whole program into
question."
The younger man was taken aback. "Then you've cancelled the program
to take these students on scholarship?"
"Not at all," the older man reassured him. "I reluctantly agreed to
continue the program, which delighted the social worker to no end. Do
you know that the county spends over thirty thousand dollars a year
to-- ah, but I am digressing. Back to the point. Yes, the program
continues, but now only under the condition that the Academy not be
plagued by constant visits from the Social Services Office or regular
reports. Elgin Academy graciously extended the program to accept
these hardship students under the condition that the only nuisance the
county be allowed to ask for is a copy of the subject's diploma upon
graduation."
The younger man chuckled. "Well, how very convenient, Headmaster.
And how very profitable!"
The older man smiled in shared confidence. "Isn't it, though? And
with regard to that, I must thank you for your kind contribution." A
grateful hand was offered, which the executive took.
"Say, Headmaster, could you turn on the monitor in Kate's room like
you did the last time I was here?" There was a slight jump in his
deep voice as he made the request. Like a kid taking a peek at a
Christmas present, he thought in guilty excitement.
The prep school headmaster nodded indulgently. "By all means. Let us
see what the dear is up to." He pulled a key from his jacket pocket
and unlocked the door of the wallmounted wood cabinent behind him.
The opened door revealed a dark monitor. the academic punched in a
code on the monitor console and the monitor expanded into a
technicolor square.
"She's so damn cute!" The businessman looked at the small figure on
the screen with rapt attention. "And she's got a figure now-- that
was just starting the last time I was here!"
"Yes, Kate is filling out. As I've said before, she won't ever be a
Dolly Parton. In fact, what she's got is probably all she'll ever
have, though I haven't had the heart to break it to her. Funny, that.
At first, she required quite a bit of coaxing to get her to wear her
training bra. She was so-- obstreperous. 'Why do I have to wear a
bra?', 'I don't like having breasts', 'I'm really a boy' and all the
rest. So ridiculous. But in time, she's accepted them, more than
that I would say! She's been measuring herself every day, becoming
ecstatic if she grew a micrometer! Always reading articles in her
copies of Sassy and Seventeen about breast size and so forth. Look at
her-- even now, she's obssessed with them!"
The screen gave a clear view of what the Headmaster was referring to.
Kate cupped her small breasts, lifting them and looking at herself in
the mirror. Then she dropped her hands and thrust her chest out like
a cadet, an unsatisfied look on her face.
"So damn cute!" repeated the younger man roughly. Then, recovering
himself a bit, turned to the Headmaster. "Sort of looks like Jodie
Foster, don't you think?" He asked the question self-conciously,
almost self-congratulatory.
"Of course she does, Edgar. After all, that's what you told me you
wanted in a neice-- a thin redhead with a pale complexion, sharp
pretty features, slim hips, small breasts-- all you asked for. I
belive you mentioned Jodie Foster as Kate's physical model, did you
not?"
"Yeah, well I think you're right." The younger man's eyes narrowed.
"Quite a babe that Jodie Foster. Anyway, what has she been told
again?"
"That her uncle is coming for her today and he wants to see how much
his neice has developed. That the last time you set eyes on her, she
was very, very young. That her long-lost uncle is a very successful
businessman who works in Asia. And that if she is 'mature' enough,
you'll take her with you when you go back to Asia."
The exec's eyes were fixed on the feminine figure primping on the
monitor. "It'll be wonderful to take her over there. The life of an
expatriate is a lonely one and as I mentioned, the AIDS epidemic is
getting quite virulent. It was obvious to me some eight months ago
that the usual company with which I indulged myself was just getting
to dangerous. Risky. Still," his brow creased, "to be honest, even
now I wonder if a real girl wasn't the way to go."
Headmaster shook his head. "Too expensive, even for you, Edgar.
Besides, I'm sure she please you-- except for the genital switch,
there's not a lot of difference now. And girls are far more difficult
to train. Besides this way you're helping your alma mater. Your
'contribution' pays off in two ways-- it is tax-deductable plus you
enjoy the benefit of a pretty, well-bred young companion. How else
can you both save yourself a great deal of money, make our library
expansion possible and gain such a delightful traveling partner?" He
pointed at the monitor with his pipe.
Edgar looked sheepish. "I'm so pleased to help the Academy. The
library needed the new wing, Headmaster. I'm honored to be a part of
the continuing success of the school. And delighted to be part of your
special extracirricular program, sir."
The academic pulled on his herringbone lapels and smiled broadly.
"Anything for an alum of old Elgin! You know this program has done
wonders for our fundraising. It is because of such supporters like
you that our special education program works so well. Do you remember
your classmate John Worthington?"
The younger man nodded. "Good old Jack! How is he? I heard he's the
youngest ambassador ever appointed to France!"
"Oh yes, we're quite proud of him at Elgin, as we are of you-- I saw
you on the cover of BusinessWeek touting you as the country's hottest
portfolio manager in the Far East. Anyway, John is going to France
and along with his wife and young son, he is bringing along a nanny, a
certain young lady of seventeen named Samantha."
The guest tried to trap a chuckle with his hand. "You're not
suggesting old Jack--"
The Headmaster smiled in amusement. "Let's just say Samantha, a
lovely brown-haired thing, used to be a young street ruffian named
Sammy or something! Too bad we can't 'help' more of our former
students this way, the school needs so much work."
"Why not simply ask more alums if they'd be interested?"
The Headmaster shook his head. "Believe it or not Edgar, most tastes
run to the rather ordinary. It takes a very special person to
appreciate a delicacy like Katie or Samantha. And the gymnasium does
need so much repair. I think our basketball team can have such a
superlative season. Ah, but funds are lacking!"
Edgar shrugged. "How much would you need to do a complete repair?"
The older man scratched his graying head. "Perhaps two million-- at
least one."
Edgar smiled widely. "If Katie is half of what you promise she'll be,
I think we can find that money, Headmaster!"
"But Edgar, are you offering to donate--???"
"Please sir, I'm successful, but not that successful. However I have
an idea. I'll call you next year-- by that time I'll know if it's
feasible." On that mysterious note, the guest turned intently on the
older man. "I'd like to see what I have bought now, if that's
alright."
The Headmaster nodded and pushed a button at his desk. Upstairs Kate
heard the bell again, loud and insistent. "To let her know her
'uncle' is coming up to see her," the Headmaster explained.
As the two men approached the small locked door, the Headmaster
pressed some small items into the other man's hands. He put his hand
on the other man's arm, the powerful biceps bulging under the casual
sportjacket.
"I'll let you two get acquainted. She's dressed precisely as you
wished-- a pleasant deviation from the usual norm, I must say. Take
as long as you like of course, the shen can dress. Her bags are
packed and you can leave with her any time you like. If you have any
problems, contact me at once." The headmaster gave him an
understanding smile. "The initial training can be sticky, but she is
waiting for you. And as much as she is afraid of you-- and will
probably continue to be-- she is just as secretly excited about being
your 'neice' and everything that goes with it. Good luck old man, and
see you at Homecoming next year." With that, the older man walked
down the stairs.
The younger man looked at the items in his palm. There were two. One
was a square plastic package that was labeled "Stud Condom-- Ribbed
For Extra Pleasure". The other was a tiny key with a small tab. It
read simply "Kate." He placed the key carefully on his keychain, then
opened the door.
Kate stood facing him, head bowed but green eyes looking anxiously at
him. Her hands and arms nervously covered her chest, then with a
forced jitter, dropped to her side, exposing her blue cotton
brassiered chest. She chewed her lower lip, then with a supreme
effort, smiled sweetly for her guest.
"Hello, Uncle Edgar. I'm so glad to see you." The words were offered
like a gift that the giver knew, just knew, wasn't good enough, but
had to try anyway.
Uncle Edgar closed the door behind him and gestured for Kate to
approach him. With head bowed, she carefully walked over to present
herself to him, her hips swaying slightly, her hands raised and away
from her hips.
"Aren't you going to give your Uncle a big kiss when I've come from so
very far away to see my pretty neice?" he chided her.
She smiled brightly at the compliment then and hoped, just hoped that
she would never ever make her new uncle mad. He seemed so handsome
and so nice. She threw her thin arms up and around his broad
shoulders as best she could (he was so tall!) and, closing her eyes as
taught, offered the red painted pouting lips up for him to take as he
wished. And even as she had hoped it would all be nice for the First
Time she met HIM, she felt his hands roughly reach down and squeeze
her butt hard, then cup her little breasts. And she was afraid,
afraid even though deep in her beating heart she felt a new warm and
dark thrill flowering. This wouldn't be the kind of First Time she
had expected at all, as he pressed her down to her knees. She thought,
this is a different kind of First Time, even as he placed her hands on
his thighs and forced the pink nailed fingers around his trouser
zipper. And years later, even after her Uncle Edgar had taught her so
much more, when she thought back to the First Time, Kate would shiver
in terror and delight.
Hong Kong, six months later
Laughter from downstairs. Katie (Uncle Edgar liked 'Katie' better
than 'Kate' so she was now officialy 'Katie') listened to the male
guffaws without interest. Uncle Edgar had so many guests over all the
time. Anyway, they kept him busy. There was so much entertaining in
Asia. Uncle Edgar said it was part of doing business. They had been
at it for a couple of hours now, long after the cook and maid had
served dinner, cleared the dishes and left for the night. Katie could
smell the cigarette smoke and the clink of cocktail glasses from the
party going on below, now and then the karaoke machine with the
accompanying Chinese voices.
Anyway, it occupied Uncle Edgar's time which was o.k. with Katie. She
would have been in bed much sooner (Uncle's Rule #9: lights out at
9:00 pm) but his mind was on his guests right now. Maybe he had even
forgotten what day it was, Katie hoped fretfully. So Katie continued
to read quietly, hoping to finish the magazine she was reading. It
was an English copy of "Teen Babe" magazine. She couldn't pick up a
word of Chinese which wasn't taught to her anyway, so she was always
excited when Uncle gave her a copy just in from the overseas packet.
She was engrossed in reading an article called "When To Tease And When
To Please," all about dating tips. She had been reading it all night,
over and over again. It had just the most super advice, like:
Tease Tip #1 Boys love it just scads when a girl wears tight
pullovers! But remember,
Please Tip #1 Your bra should be easy for him to take off once he
gets underneath that sweater!
Katie blew on her drying red nails and carefully turned the magazine
page and continued reading.
Tease Tip #2 Boys like it when you ask them to do things for them
because you can't-- 'you're just a girl', but
Please Tip #2 Boys don't like it when you ask too much. Don't be a
'space'-- remember your place!
Too much reading at one time was beginning to bore her. She flipped
the cover over. A beautiful blonde girl stared up at her. The model
was so hot-looking ('inappropriate thought' the teacher would say!
and Uncle wouldn't say anything; he'd just take poor Katie over his
knee!). But Katie couldn't help it and slowly the limp cock stirred.
Katie blew on her fingers again and rolled onto her flat, trim tummy,
squashing the growth before the troublemaker began rubbing itself raw
against the metal mesh of the chastity belt. She emptied her mind of
the thoughts then readdressed the cover conciously. Yes, the model
was pretty. Yes, Katie bet she had many boyfriends. Once again she
was just another girl, nothing more. The stirring stopped and Katie
was grateful. It was happening less and less but it never went away
entirely. It caused her too many problems. She blew on her nails
again.
"Katie!" It was Uncle Edgar! "I know you're awake! Get down here--
I want to introduce you to some guests!"
She frowned. "Uh, Uncle, I'm not really dressed," she pleaded lamely
through the door.
"Now!" Uncle Edgar boomed.
Katie rolled off the bed. She had on a pair of black cotton panties
and a tight cropped red tee shirt that rode high over her midriff.
Underneath she wore a cute white cotton training bra. She grabbed her
pink silk kimono top and slipped into it, tying the waist knot of the
sash tight. It only accentuated her lovely curved hips but Katie was
not aware of this as she sashayed down the steps, obediently smiling.
"Yes, Sir?"
The two Asians were seated on a wide leather couch. One was older, the
other a younger more protege-looking type. They spoke to each other
in rapid, excited Madarin, smiling and gaping at her. Her uncle sat
across from them in an arm chair. He patted his knee.
She kept her head bowed and minced over, seating herself daintily on
his knee. His arm encircled her waist, finding a home right under the
band of Katie's panty's thin elastic band. Her hands folded over one
another and rested on top of it.
Edgar switched to Mandarin now, though he knew Katie wouldn't
understand it.
"My little whore, Katie! You like gentlemen?"
The protege smiled widely at first, but held his tongue as the older
Chinese gave a more neutral expression.
"Pretty like your American actress Jodie Foster. But like the
actress, her breasts are small."
"It can be arranged that they are larger, whatever your needs are we
can accomodate, I assure you!" Edgar patted his 'neice's' knee. Katie
squirmed. "Bigger if you like. This one is mine and I prefer her
this way."
The Chinese nodded, then matched his protege's smile. "In this case,
I see possibilities. Certain Hong Kong businessmen would enjoy such a
pretty dove as your-- neice. And your supply is secure." It was a
shielded question, not intended to impliy disbelief but to signal it.
Edgar nodded and slapped Katie's thigh, bringing a brief red rise from
the pale skin. "Mr. Chang, there are more where Katie came from. All
I need is your ordering information and I can guarantee delivery
within eight months. As well as gurantee of a cvolume of at least two
million US dollars."
The older Chinese nodded and rose. The younger man did likewsie. As
if on pre-arranged cue, the two bowed.
"You have been a most gracious host and your proposition has been
well-received. May I trouble to ask one last question?"
Edgar offered open palms. "Anything, Mr. Chang."
"Why you do this? You are most wealthy and prosperous. You not need
to trade in these goods."
Edgar bowed and walked the two to the door. As he showed them out, he
answered. "School pride, Mr. Chang. Chalk it up to an old b-ball
player for Elgin Academy."
The two Chinese shook their heads, unsure of what the round-eyes
meant, but smiling politely as they bid goodnight. Edgar closed the
door and turned to his neice.
"You probably thought I had forgotten what day it is, didn't you?"
Katie's false smile dissolved. Abruptly, she stood up, hands folded
in front of her. "Uh, no sir. You never forget."
"Too bad for you, huh Katie?" He took a last swig from his higball
and placed the empty glass on an end table. Then Uncle Edgar pulled
out a sheet of paper from the breast pocket of his suit jacket and
looked it over, holding his hand in his chin as he contemplated the
typed words. He reseated himself in the armchair. Katie
unwillingingly positioned herself, standing in front of her seated
uncle.
"Friday, as we both know is Review Day. Since you're a maturing girl
of sixteen and a half, it is important to make sure you are growing up
correctly. And there are some interesting things on the list this
week. So let's review the notes I have on you, Katie. Ah, a note
from your teacher, Mrs. Lee at the English School. It seems you had a
run in your stockings on Monday-- very unladylike. Can you explain
this?"
Katie remembered-- she had bumped up against a desk leg and it had put
a small run in her white stockings. It han't been that bad. She had
repaired it with her nail polish as she had been taught in the Girl's
Lavatory and hoped her instructors hadn't seen it. She had been
wrong.
"It was a small run, Uncle Edgar. And if you let me wear pantyhose, I
could have borrowed some from a friend," Katie whined.
Uncle Edgar waved the explanation away brusquely. "We're NOT going to
have that discussion again. Proper young ladies like you wear
stockings and garters-- NOT pantyhose! The next thing would be pants
for God's sakes!" He laughed at that ridiculous concept. "Next year
we can talk about possibly letting you wear thigh highs, but for now,
you'll be more careful-- understand?"
Katie swallowed and nodded. "Yes, Sir."
"Fine." He marked the list. "Three spanks for that indiscretion.
Now, I have a note from Ms. Ky, your gymnastics instructor, that you
have received a C- on your half term routine. Why?"
Katie pulled the kimono tight. "I can't do splits, Uncle. the girls
can--"
"You mean the OTHER GIRLS can, but you can't. You're a girl too,
remember Katie?" His eyes bored into her and she nodded.
"Yes, Uncle, I mean the other girls. But I can't because of--"
That answer was clearly unacceptable, because Uncle Edgar waved
silence on her. "You're not practising enough. You WILL learn to do
a split properly, learn to do the uneven bars and learn to do
cartwheels and flips. You will find that your chastity belt will
allow you to do all this. If not, we'll see a doctor about making you
physically able to do this. Are we clear?"
Katie grimaced. "Yes, Sir. But," she smiled brightly, "I did get a B
on my math quiz!"
Uncle Edgar smiled. "Yes, but what good will that do you, Katie?
You're a girl and girls like you will never be good in math-- it's a
fluke. Besides you spend too much on math. I'm taking you out of
that class. I want you to learn French instead. Won't that be fun--
French is the language of romanace, you know!"
Katie answered with a doubtful smile.
"Now, a C- deserves, oh, five spanks. Next, I see Mrs. Wong says when
she took you to Kowloon to help her shop, she noticed a chipped nail!"
Katie nodded, accepting the blame. "yes, Sir. I know I must keep
better care of my nails."
"Let me see them now," commanded Uncle Edgar.
She presented her hands, palms down. He held her soft, small hands,
examining hem for flaws. But the nails were a perfect set of hot pink
well-shaped long finger nails. "Since they are in good shape, just
one spank. Now let's see, we have a total of nine spanks for this
week! Well, very good Katie! That is three less than last week!
Congratilations!"
Katie grinned proudly. Last week's no-nos had really put the fear of
God into her. Her butt had really paid a price. Fine, she would only
get nine. She could live through it, as long as there was hope that
some day she wouldn't have any, that someday she wouldn't be a she any
more! She had hooked her thumbs into her panties to pull them down
and present herself for her weekly correction, when Uncle Edgar wagged
a finger.
"Not yet, sweet thing. There's one more I left off-- because it's so
especially naughty."
Katie sucked in a breath as he pulled out a small piece of pink paper.
"A sheet from your diary, missy. You see, I was reading through it
the other day to make sure you were putting down all your little
thoughts like you're supposd to and I noticed a page had been ripped
out. I wondered, why would Katie rip a page out-- had she written
something inapprpriate? But I couldn't find it." He shook his head
in mock gravity. "Well, as your uncle, I had to get to the bottom of
it. So I asked Ms. Chan the housekeeper if she had seen anything like
it. And do you know what she told me?"
Katie's eyes had widened into watery half-dollars, ready to spill
frightened tears. She nodded sadly.
"Of course you do, because you gave it to her to pass on. Here-- is
this yours?" He unfolded the note and handed it to his neice.
Katie regarded it ruefully. What had she been thinking to have done
this?
To Anybody's Attention,
Please help me! I am being kept as a sex slave by a crazy businessman
named Edgar Stiffington in Hong Kong. He has had me turned into a
girl named Katie and tells people I am his neice, but I am really a
boy! I don't remember my real name because of the things they have
done to me and I look like a girl, but I am really a boy! Please
help-- he makes me do things I don't like to do and he punishes me if
I don't do them the way he likes!
I know this sounds crazy, but if you can read this, then you have to
help me!
Uncle Edgar gently pulled the page out of his neice's hand and tore it
into tiny pieces of confetti. "Too bad Mrs. Chan can't read English.
Too bad she couldn't understand what you were trying to tell her. Oh
well-- you'll just have to be punished for this bit of misbehavior.
Too bad. I think eleven spanks are in order for this-- for an even
twenty. Go on Katie, you know what to do."
Twenty! She hadn't had that many for many months! But she had been
bad, very, very bad, and she knew she deserved it. Because, tonight
she realized that she WAS Katie, WAS a sixteen and a half year old
girl, and she WAS and would ALWAYS BE her uncle's plaything. With a
genuine pentitence, she slipped off her kimono top, stretched out of
her red cropped t-shirt and pulled down her black cotton bikini
panties. Trembling, she draped herself over uncle's knees. She could
already feel the hard cock underneath his trousers coming to life.
Edgar looked at the nude pale moons in his lap. As he always did, he
effortlessly unhooked Katie's training bra, pulling the straps back
and leaving her back bare except for the innocent freckles. Before
raising his open palm, he fingered the soft wires that ran up between
her cheeks and around her waspy waist. A slight tug on it brought a
moan from Katie. He grinned.
"Your Troublemaker, Katie-- it's what leads you straight into all this
naughtiness! Imagine-- you a boy! Why you're just the prettiest,
sexiest little neice an uncle like me could ever have!" He raised his
palm and dropped it hard on Katie's rump.
"Bad little girl! I'll teach you not to think you'rea boy!"
And so the correction continued. And after it was over, her uncle
taught Katie just how to be a good little girl. He was such a
thoughtful man.
THE END