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From: b1223@ix.netcom.com
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg
Subject: Lisa's TG Library: "Magic Transformation"
Date: Sun, 05 May 96 18:45:51 GMT
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MAGIC TRANSFORMATION
PART 1: THE SPELL BEGINS
As most submissives know, finding the right dominant woman can
be a real challenge--and it becomes even harder when your "interests"
include cross-dressing. It had always seemed to me that most of the
dominants I met didn't really understand the submissive transvestite's
need for cross-dressing as humiliation. Perhaps their own beliefs in
female superiority just didn't allow them to see how dressing as a woman
could be humiliating.
At any rate, I was fairly certain I had found my ultimate
mistress in Samantha. Tall, with long dark hair and a model's face and
figure, Mistress Samantha and I had met at a party about two months ago.
At the time, I didn't know she was a dom inant--we had simply found a
mutual interest in the study of ancient religions and ceremonies.
But that interest had led Mistress Samantha into a particular
variation of Goddess worship--one in which all women are aspects of the
Goddess and, as such, deserve worship by men. When she proposed that
relationship to me on our third or four th date, I readily agreed. The
following week, I told her about my own needs for cross-dressing (and
simple bondage at times) as a form of humiliation and submission.
"Hmmm," she mused, "that sounds like it could be quite
interesting, Carl. Let me do some research and I may have a way for us
to have some real 'fun' with that.
"In the meantime," she ordered, "on your knees and worship me in
the way I enjoy!"
That was a month ago. And though I often asked my Mistress how
her research was progressing, she always laughed it off--saying she was
still searching for the right books to make her little idea work.
Then, this afternoon, Mistress Samantha called me at work and
commanded me to attend her that evening. It was a Friday and I had the
weekend to look forward to--spending it in servitude to Mistress
Samantha would be heaven.
So, here I was, at the door to Mistress Samantha's penthouse
apartment--precisely at 7:00 pm, as she ordered. I rang the bell, and
she answered the door. She was dressed in what I had come to think of
as her domination costume--a tightfitting black leather dress that
revealed her trim figure superbly, with a hem that stopped five inches
above her knees, revealing her splendid long legs, clad in sheer black
stockings and perched on black patent-leather pumps with six-inch
heels. Tonight, however, a new article had been added to the outfit--
over all the rest she wore an open, flowing robe of black satin with
arcane symbols on the back and the sleeves.
"Come in, Carl," she cooed. "Everything's ready. Come into the
bedroom."
In the bedroom, she had moved the bed against one wall to make
room for a kind of brazier, in which was burning a pungent incense of
some sort. On the bed lay a range of feminine clothing--lingerie,
dresses, blouses and skirts, as well as sev eral pairs of high heels
standing on the floor. I looked at Mistress Samantha with obvious wonder
on my face.
"I've completed my research," she told me. "Since the dawn of
time, the sisters of the priesthood of the Goddess have practiced the
casting of spells. Many of those enchantments involve transformations.
I have studied the ancient arts until I learned such a spell."
"Transformation?" I asked. "What do you mean?"
"I mean I can not only make you look like a woman by putting on
these clothes--but by mystically changing the way you look in reality,"
she replied.
"But, Mistress, I don't want to be a woman," I protested, "only
to look like one."
"I know that, Carl," she answered. "I said I could change the
way you look, not what you actually are. Physically and mentally you
will remain male--only your outer appearance will change."
"The spell can be reversed?" I asked. (Assuming it actually
works, I thought to myself. Magic?)
"Of course," she replied. "Now, come, the spell requires that
you be dressed in the clothes of the person you wish to become. I'll
help you get into these things."
First, Mistress Samantha aided me in putting on the lacy white
demi-bra. A C-cup, it hung loosely on my flat chest. Next came a
matching garter belt; it was tight around my still male-thick waist.
That was followed by a pair of sheer stocking s, stretched over-tight to
attach to the clips of the garter belt. After that she helped me put on
a pair of shiny white tap pants with lace around the leg openings.
Despite their somewhat tight fit, they felt extremely sensuous as they
slithered ove r my nylon-clad legs and hips. The final touch was to
squeeze a pair of white satin pumps with five-inch heels onto my feet.
"Mistress, what about the outer clothes?" I asked.
"Unnecessary for the spell to operate," Mistress Samantha said.
"Besides, I want to see what you'll look like when it's done." She
turned and picked up a roll of cloth, spreading it out on the floor. On
the cloth was painted a pentagram, the inverted star surrounded by a
circle and mystic symbols familiar from media presentations of witch's
ceremonies.
"Stand in the center of the design, Carl, dear," Mistress
Samantha directed. "The pentagram will prevent the magic of the
enchantment from escaping and affecting me or anyone else within range."
I did as she directed.
She went to the desk and opened a large, leather-bound book to a
previously marked page. Throwing some more incense on the brazier, which
sent up a new pall of smoke, she began to read from the book.
I didn't understand the words--but I recognized the sound of the
language, or thought I did. It was vaguely Latin in construction, but
with pronunciations that sounded Gaelic or Welsh at times, and Hebrew or
Arabic at others. As she weaved th e spell, I noticed a tingling
beginning in my nipples and my buttocks, a feeling that spread to my
hands, my feet, in time to my entire body.
Mistress Samantha's chanting continued, taking on a rhythmic
tone. Now a glow began to form about my body, golden in color and
shimmering. It seemed almost alive. I noticed that it was taking on a
shape different from my own--wider at the che st and the hips and
seeming to disappear within my body at the waist. As the chanting
continued the glow became brighter, so bright that I had to close my
eyes against the glare.
Moments later, Mistress Samantha stopped speaking and I heard
her shut the book. Simultaneously, the glow went away. I opened my eyes.
"No--close your eyes again!" my mistress commanded. "I want you
to see the result all at once."
She took me by the shoulders and turned me to the left. "Now,
open your eyes."
I was facing a full-length mirror on the wall of the bedroom.
The figure looking back at me from the reflection was recognizably me--
but changed. First of all, it appeared to be a woman. She was some five
feet, eight inches tall (I had been 5 -10). Her breasts filled the cups
of the 36C bra she wore, with some of the flesh peeking over the top
provocatively. Her waist was narrower than any man's, her hips wide and
womanly. Her legs were as attractive as Mistress Samantha's--if I could
be so bold as to make the comparison. I judged her, surprisingly, to
weigh about as much as I had before the spell--some 130 pounds or so.
The face was still definitely my own, but somewhat softer in
appearance, with larger eyes and fuller lips. The hair was a little
longer, giving the look of an uncontrolled bob.
I turned to Mistress Samantha. "What about my, uh--" I
hesitated, touching my crotch.
"They are still there, as you can feel," she replied, "and still
functional. The spell has changed nothing internally--only the outward
appearance."
"Then why didn't it make me smaller, more petite?" I inquired.
"Magic is a part of the natural world, Carl--or perhaps it
should be Carol, now--and it must obey many of the same rules that
science does," Mistress Samantha explained. "Matter can neither be
created nor destroyed--the spell simply took the matter that made up
your male body and rearranged it into a female matrix. Some of the flesh
that was once your masculine muscles has become the fatty tissue of your
breasts and ass. The hair that once covered your chest and legs has been
shifted to your head--unfortunately, there was not enough of it to make
your hair really long. But that will change."
She looked at her watch. "But, now, it is time to get you
dressed in the rest of your outfit--you have an appointment at the
beauty parlor."
My heart skipped a beat; my cock twitched in its satiny
confines. I had long ago lost count of the number of times I had
fantasized about visiting a beauty parlor and leaving it as an
attractive woman. Now, it was to happen.
Mistress Samantha handed me a white satin blouse that buttoned
up the back with little pearl buttons. I needed help in getting it
closed properly--obviously there were things that being a woman
entailed that I hadn't thought about. The blouse seemed a touch tight
against my breasts--"Nonsense," Mistress Samantha said when I mentioned
it. "A girl with lovely boobs like yours should always display them"--
but I thrilled to the way it slithered over my hairless arms.
The blouse was followed by a tight, straight miniskirt in faded
denim. This skirt was short! The hem grazed the darker bands at my
stocking tops.
Now dressed in somewhat presentable fashion (I was still
mightily embarrassed by the way the blouse showed off my breasts and the
skirt revealed my legs), Mistress Samantha sat me at her vanity for a
light going-over with cosmetic s. "There's no need for a heavy-duty job
right now," she explained. "The girls at the beauty parlor will do a
splendid job."
So this was to be a complete "make over"--as if I hadn't had
enough of one right here. My cock was stiff as a rod beneath my satin
tap pants and short skirt. I was certain it was obvious...and it was.
My mistress placed her hand on the front of my skirt, lightly
brushing the concealed head of my cock. "Calm down, Carol--NOW!" she
demanded. Instantly, my member deflated.
"How--how did you do that?" I asked.
"A little part of the spell I didn't explain to you before,
Carol dearest," she replied, smiling mischievously. "The magic not only
changed your body but your mind as well. I have complete control of your
psyche and sexuality. 'NOW' is the tr iggering word, when preceded by a
command.
"So," she continued, as I trembled at the words, "unless you
want to stay as submissive little Carol for the rest of your life--and I
can make you want that, you know--you'll do as I say for the remainder
of the weekend, maybe lon ger. After all, I could fix it so you have no
choice!"
Mistress Samantha walked me out to her private elevator, through
the lobby and out to her car. We drew many stares, and not just from the
men. Most of the women in the lobby and in the garage followed us with
their eyes as well, some with una bashed admiration for the way we
showed off our "assets," others with equally undisguised jealousy. I was
proud I could hold up so well alongside the beautiful Samantha--but also
very much aware that she could expose my secret maleness at any moment.
We got into Mistress Samantha's BMW and made it to the beauty
parlor without incident. As we parked in front of the shop, I recognized
it as Evelyn's--one of the most exclusive beauty salons in town. I knew
Mistress Samantha frequented it (I had often met her in the vicinity for
one of our dates), but I had no idea she would see fit to bring me here
in my transformed state.
We entered the shop and I found myself in a totally feminine
environment. I was at once completely overjoyed and profoundly
embarrassed. I had looked forward to this experience since first
discovering my submissive side in my late teens--but I was also
completely aware of the fact that, deep down, as a male, I did not
belong here.
Mistress Samantha pointed to one of the chairs in the waiting
area. "Sit down there, Carol; cross your legs and fold your hands
prettily in your lap--NOW!" The spell was as good as Mistress Samantha
said it was. Instantly, almost without real izing it, I was seated where
she had indicated, in the pose she demanded.
"I'll go tell Evelyn we're here," Mistress Samantha continued,
heading for the back of the salon.
As I sat in my extremely feminine posture, waiting for my
mistress to return, my eyes fell on the magazine rack beside me. In
addition to the usual fashion mags--Glamour, Vogue, Mademoiselle--there
were a number of more "unusual" titles, such as Petticoat Power, Leather
Fantasies, and Transvestites in Bondage. Somehow, I could not keep my
eyes off their lurid covers.
"I see our little transformation candidate has found our
library," a voice laughed. I turned to find Mistress Samantha standing
there with another lovely young woman, Evelyn I assumed.
"Sam, what a perfectly lovely beginning you've made!" she
exclaimed. "Carol, as you can tell, one of our specialties here is
helping dominant women to transform their slaves into sissy slaves. But
I can't remember when we've ever had such won derful base material."
I blushed to the roots of my shag-like hair at her compliment.
Mistress Samantha gestured for me to get up and follow them. We
retreated to the very rear of the shop, where the walls were decorated
with poster-size photos of transvestized men --some quite obvious,
others very beautiful, so that you had to look closely to be sure they
were men. Next, I noted that all the chairs back here, unlike those in
the more public part of the salon, had straps at the arms and foot
rests. The perceptive Evelyn again noticed what had caught my eye.
"Yes, Carol dear, some of our subjects are less willing than others,
requiring us to secure them while we work. That won't be necessary with
you, will it?" she asked.
"It better not be," Mistress Samantha answered, eyeing me
carefully.
The two dominants helped me into the chair. Evelyn placed a
cloth over my clothes and proceeded to get me set for a shampoo.
"Christy," she called, "will come give Carol her wash, please?"
A tall, slender young woman in a short pink smock approached,
mincing on her six-inch pink heels. As she leaned over me to adjust a
towel, I noted the size of her Adam's apple--Christy, lovely as she
seemed, was a man, undoubtedly one of Evel yn's earlier conquests and
transformations.
Christy finished her careful ministrations, brought the chair
back to an upright position, and swung it around so that I faced Evelyn.
"Now, the real work begins," the salon mistress announced, brandishing a
comb and scissors.
A short time later, it seemed that very little of my hair had
been cut (after all, it wasn't very long) and Evelyn began massaging in
another treatment. Then she pulled individual clumps of hair and wrapped
them in a chemical-soaked foil. "Yo u're going to look so good with
frosted hair, Carol," she commented. I blanched--how much of this
transformation would remain when Mistress Samantha removed the spell?
How could I go to work on Monday with frosted hair?
Evelyn placed an old-fashioned bonnet-type hair dryer over my
head and motioned for Christy to come over again. While my hair dried,
the TV salon attendant manicured my nails, shaping them into gentle
ovals and painting them a bright red. She then turned her attentions to
my toenails, painting them to match my fingernails.
Within half-an-hour Evelyn pulled me from under the dryer and
performed her finishing touches on my hair. "Now for the final
touches," she said, rolling over a tray of cosmetics. First, she wiped
Mistress Samantha's earlier work from my face. "Do you want her to
learn how to do this herself?" she asked my mistress.
"Certainly," Mistress Samantha replied. She looked at me.
"Carol, you will remember everything Evelyn does in making you up--and
remember it, NOW!" Instantly, my attention was riveted on Evelyn's hands
as she went about her work--trimming my eyebrows, putting mascara,
eyeliner and shadow on my eyes, brushing on a rosy blush, and outlining
then filling in my lips with a creamy red color that matched my nails.
"She's ready, Sam," Evelyn announced, whisking the protective
cloth from my lap.
Mistress Samantha took my hand and helped me from the chair,
walking me to the full-length mirror in the salon. Once again, I felt
stirrings in my cock as I gazed at the woman I had become. My brown
hair, now frosted with a golden tone, was c ut into a Liza-like look,
framing my youthfully made-up face with wispy tendrils. The image's lips
parted, revealing the straight white teeth behind the kissable red lips.
The woman's body was youthful, but tall and big-boned. The effect was a
coltis h, appealing, sexy girl. Was I falling in love with myself?
"Like what you see, Carol?" Mistress Samantha asked. I could
only nod. "I'm glad. I want you to feel this way whenever you see
yourself as a woman--NOW!"
That was the ultimate command--Mistress Samantha had succeeded
in inalterably connecting these passionate sexual stirrings with the
sight of myself as a beautiful woman. Where would all this lead?
NEXT: PART 2--CAROL GOES SHOPPING
MAGIC TRANSFORMATION, PART 2
As we strode out of the beauty salon (well, Mistress Samantha
strode, I rather minced), I sensed male heads turning all around us. I
couldn't be sure if they were looking at me, Mistress Samantha or both
of us. The mistress merely smiled at t he attention and whispered to me,
"Smile, Carol dear, act as if you appreciate the lustful looks you're
getting--NOW!"
Once again, my body betrayed my psyche, as Mistress Samantha's
magic spell forced me to smile in recognition of the male attention we
received. Even more, I found myself wiggling my ass as well. If Mistress
Samantha wanted to turn me into a c ock-tease in my feminine form, she
was succeeding.
She took me by the arm and led me into one of the restaurants in
the mall. The hostess, though she greeted us warmly, was obvious
envious of our sexy appearance. She primly led us to a table in the
back. A short time later, our waiter, a cute college-aged kid, took our
drink orders. He smiled broadly at both of us, but seemed to pay
special attention to me. Still under the influence of Mistress
Samantha's last command, I hiked up my already short denim skirt,
revealing the white skin and garters above my stocking tops and swung
sideways in my seat, so that my long legs were completely visible to
him, my feet tucked demurely under my chair.
When he returned with our drinks--scotch and soda for the
mistress, Perrier for me--his eyes nearly popped out of his head. Our
little flirtation continued all the way through lunch. I was deeply
afraid that Mistress Samantha would order me t o take the relationship a
few steps further but, fortunately, she merely paid the check when the
waiter brought it and we sashayed out of the restaurant.
Mistress Samantha steered me into the biggest department store
in the mall and headed straight for the juniors department. I stood
there, surrounded by the kickiest, hippest clothing in the place--flirty
miniskirts, off-the-shoulder blouses, party dresses in taffeta with
flounces, short skirts and strapless bodices. The closeness of so much
feminine apparel--the center of so many of my fantasies--put my cock on
the rise again.
The mistress pulled three items off the rack: a bright red
business suit in silk, with a boxy jacket and short skirt; a spandex
exercise outfit intended to cling to my every spell-created curve; and a
black-and-white party dress, with a ruffl ed miniskirt over petticoats
and a strapless bodice. We took all three into a dressing room.
Mistress Samantha instructed me to strip down to my lingerie
while she went to gather up the proper accessories. She returned a few
moments later, arms laden with lingerie, jewelry, shoes and the like.
"Let's try the exercise outfit, first, Carol," she said. I took
off all my lingerie except the panties as she ordered. Mistress
Samantha handed me an exercise bra which I fumblingly got on. Then came
the exercise outfit itself: a leotard with deep cleavage and high-cut
leg openings, spandex tights, and aerobics shoes--all in bright pink.
The mistress then helped me get into the matching leg warmers and sweat
band. I turned to the mirror.
Once again, the tall coltish girl I had become stared back at
me--now ready for a session at the health club. Mistress Samantha poked
me in the side. "Still a little chubby, there, Carol. Looks like we'll
make good use of this outfit," she ch uckled.
As I stripped off the spandex, Mistress Samantha sorted through
the accessories to find the proper lingerie for my next try-on, the
business suit. Once again, I left the panties on and started to rehook
my original bra, but she stopped me. "N o, Carol, I have a different set
of lingerie for this outfit. Take off those panties and bra."
I hesitated. We were in the dressing room of the women's
department in a major department store. Despite my outward appearance I
was still a man, with a man's "equipment" at my crotch. What if someone
should walk in unexpectedly? The excitem ent and humiliation (and I
wasn't sure which had the greater effect) had caused my cock to become
engorged again.
"Carol," Mistress Samantha demanded, "What are you waiting for?
Get those panties off--NOW!"
The spell had the effect I had come to know so well in such a
few short hours. Almost of their own volition, my hands fairly ripped
the white satin tap panties off my hips. To replace them, Mistress
Samantha handed me a similar pair in black, topped by a matching black
camisole trimmed with lace at the bodice. Once they were in place, the
mistress handed me the skirt and jacket of the bright red silk suit.
I was startled again, but knew enough not to hesitate this
time. Still, I had to ask. "Mistress, shouldn't I be wearing a blouse
and slip with this?"
"A business woman might," she replied. "But you're just
pretending, aren't you? You're just a coltish young girl who likes to
dress up in fine things and show off. Well, you're going to show off
your boobs and your panties if I want you to--a nd I do!"
Once the skirt was on, Mistress Samantha aided me in putting on
the black sheer stockings she had chosen to go with the suit, as well as
the red patent-leather pumps with the six-inch heels. Onto my ears she
clipped bold button earrings in go ld, followed by a matching choker-
style necklace and a heavy gold bracelet. She knelt for a moment at ny
feet and hooked a another heavy gold chain around my ankle. Standing,
she posed me before the mirror.
"Wonderful," she exclaimed. "Later, we'll have to get your ears
pierced, Carol. But the choker is great--it looks almost like a collar,
doesn't it? And the bracelets on your arm and ankle--they could be slave
bracelets, couldn't they, Carol d ear?" As she made these comments,
Mistress Samantha brushed her hand over the front of my skirt, feeling
my cock rise.
Yes! I wanted the jewelry to be just what she described--emblems
of my transformed enslavement to Mistress Samantha. How well she knew
me!
The girl in the mirror now looked more sophisticated, yet just
as sexy as she did in the exercise outfit. The deep cut opening of the
red jacket showed the rounded tops of my boobs above a hint of the black
lace on my chemise. The higher heel s and the sleek black stockings made
my legs look longer and more enticing.
"Lean over and touch your knees, Carol," Mistress Samantha
suggested. I did so--and my breasts nearly popped out of the jacket.
"Stay there," she commanded, "I want you to see just how sexy you look
like this." She reached under my skirt fro m behind me, and massaged my
ass. Spreading my cheeks, she inserted something (I couldn't tell what)
into my asshole.
A moment later, I knew exactly what the mistress had thrust into
my rear, as the vibrating of the dildo sent shivers through my whole
body. Now Mistress Samantha stood up and reached into the front of my
jacket, taking my boobs into her hands , playing with the nipples,
arousing me even further. As I felt certain I would come, right there in
the dressing room--and even wished for it, desperately--she stopped her
foreplay and turned off the dildo's motor with her remote control.
"I just wanted you to realize how much control I have over you,
dear," she whispered, smiling. "We'll leave my little toy inside you for
now, while you try on the last of your new clothes."
Moments later, I was wearing that kicky little party dress.
Beneath it, Mistress Samantha had laced me into a crushingly tight
corset that took five inches off my waistline--giving me about a 36-19-
36 figure. The petticoats of the dress tease d my thighs, while my legs,
still in the sheer black stockings but now perched on six-inch-heeled
black pumps, were revealed almost to my garters. My boobs again
threatened to spill out of the strapless top. A large black velvet bow
was pinned to my hair, sparkling rhinestones hung from my ears, with a
matching choker necklace around my neck. The gold "slave" bracelets
remained on my wrist and ankle.
"That dress was made for dancing, Carol," Mistress Samantha
observed. "Dance for me--NOW!" At once, my body, forced to obey a will
other than my own by the mistress's magic, began to move sensuously to a
beat it alone heard. As my movements b ecame more erotic, Mistress
Samantha turned on the dildo again, so that the vibrating pleasure in my
ass added to my excitement. The more I moved, the more excited I became!
I turned toward her, my need for release clear in my begging
eyes. "Very well, Carol, you may come," she said, pausing for effect,
"NOW!"
My pleasure nearly gushed out of me, as I fell on the floor,
panting and groaning.
*******************
We returned to Mistress Samantha's apartment and put all my new
clothes into the closet she kept there for me. The rest of the
weekend was spent in exploring new ways for me to experience my
transformed body.
Monday morning came all too soon. "Well, Carol, it's time to
return to being Carl," Mistress Samantha told me. She instructed me to
stand once again in the center of the pentagram. She donned her black
robe and read again from the book.
Once again I could feel the tingling all over my body, once
again a glow formed around me, this time taking the shape of my
masculine self. Moments later, I looked down at myself and I could see I
was Carl again.
But Carl with a difference--my nails were still shaped and
painted red in a feminine style. I turned to the mirror--my hair was
still frosted gold and my eyebrows were still trimmed into a feminine
arch!
"Mistress," I cried, "I can't go back to work looking like
this."
"I'm afraid you've no choice, Carl," she replied. "Didn't I tell
you? The spell reversal doesn't affect anything done to you physically
while you were transformed. You're stuck with the frosted hair and
arched eyebrows until they grow out--if I ever let you do that.
"Oh, and a few other things the spell reversal didn't do. The
submissive command spell is still active, and I can recreate Carol
anytime I want with a simple two-word incantation," she gloated. I
looked at her in disbelief. "Yes, Carl," she n odded, "I can make you do
anything I want--and become Carol anytime I want her.
"So, before you leave for work, on your knees and satisfy me--
NOW!"
I fell before her and buried my face in her crotch--both
dreading and anticipating with pleasure the new life before me.
NEXT: LEATHER AND LESBIANS
MAGIC TRANSFORMATION, PART 3
For the next week, I endured the snickers of my office mates
about my newly frosted hair and trimmed eyebrows. I was glad they
couldn't detect one other reminder of my weekend as Carol--Mistress
Samantha had used her magical control over me t o force me to wear
panties, garter belt and stockings under my male attire. Every morning I
tried to fight the mystic urge, but every morning I failed. Moving of
their own volition, seemingly, my hands would place the treasured
feminine underthings o n my body.
The weekend after my transformation to Carol Mistress Samantha
did not command my presence at her apartment. Perhaps she wanted to
heighten my sense of anticipation for the next time I would be
transformed.
However, she did order me to spend the two days in my own place,
wearing nothing but lingerie and high heels, and practicing with makeup.
She also commanded me to bring home a large selection of women's fashion
magazines and to study the look s in them in order to gain a better
knowledge of modern fashion. By the end of the weekend, I was as much an
expert on fashion as any man outside the garment trade could be.
By the second week after my initial transformation, the snickers
and stares from my fellow workers had subsided, though visitors to the
office were sometimes momentarily surprised to see my slightly feminine
appearance. I thought perhaps I wo uld be able to last this all out
until my hair and eyebrows grew back out. Alas, Mistress Samantha had no
intention of making it that easy.
On Wednesday of that second week, I was in the midst of a
meeting with my staff when my mistress's latest trick struck.
"Okay, folks, the March issue looked good," I told them, "but
April can still look better--" I stopped short. A familiar tingle was
beginning in my chest and my ass. Oh God, I thought, Mistress Samantha
has reactivated the s pell! I'm going to transform into Carol right
here! I had to get out of the meeting before the glow began to appear.
I feigned illness and excused myself, rushing to my office and
closing the door. Just in time, too--because the telltale glow in the
womanly shape was beginning. Moments later, I looked in the mirror on
the inside of my office door and saw Ca rol staring back. The phone
rang--I knew who it had to be.
"Hello, Carol, dear," the mistress said. "How do you like my
little surprise?"
"Mistress, how--how," I stammered, "how am I going to get out of
here? I'm dressed like a man now!"
"Well, darling," she cooed, "I'm sure you'll think of
something." And she hung up.
I was in a quandary. How could Carol--a woman--walk out of
Carl's office, wearing his suit? I'd look ridiculous. Then I had an
idea.
Earlier that week, at Mistress Samantha's order, I had purchased
some new shoes and other accessories to add to Carol's wardrobe. They
were still in my desk drawer. If I put them on, I could perhaps make
this man's business suit look feminine enough to pass anything but a
close inspection. And if I waited until late enough in the day, no one
would see me leave my office.
I pulled off my shoes and socks--being too big now they were
practically falling off anyway--and stepped into the gray kid pumps with
five-inch heels. Instantly, I felt more like Carol. I took off my tie
and opened the front of my shirt by a few buttons. Taking out another of
the packages I had squirreled away in my desk, I put on earrings, a
matching necklace, and pinned a colorful satin scarf to my shoulder.
Next, I took out the makeup kit Mistress Samantha commanded me
to keep in the office, and made up my face. The look I had when
completed was somewhat androgynous but I was reasonably certain I'd
pass.
At 6:30 that evening, sure that the rest of the staff had left,
I finally ventured out of my office. Fortunately, I was right--no one
was there. I quickly got to the elevator and headed for the lobby. I
made it to the subway--still a little c rowded with late-leaving
commuters--without incident.
This was seemingly the ultimate humiliation Mistress Samantha
could play upon me. I guessed wrong--the coming weekend would be even
worse.
**********
On Friday morning, I received a call from Mistress Samantha,
commanding my presence that evening at 7:00. She ordered me to come
straight from the office--I would need no "accessories," everything
required for our time together would be at he r apartment.
I arrived as ordered. Mistress Samantha met me at the door,
dressed casually. The moment I stepped through the door, she uttered the
mystic command--and by the time I walked into the bedroom, I was Carol
once again.
"Get out of those male clothes, Carol," she told me. "I have a
very ®MDUL¯interesting®MDNM¯ outfit for you to wear this evening."
"Interesting" was a mild word for the clothes I was soon dressed
in. The white patent-leather corset had been laced to the 19-inch
measurement I had grown used to. Attached to its six garters were white
lace stockings, giving my legs a youthf ul, gamine--yet sexy--
appearance. That look was highlighted by the addition of a pair of lace-
trimmed white socks. My white satin panties were pulled ®MDUL¯over®MDNM¯
my garters, making it that much easier for Mistress Samantha--or anyone
else--to ga in access to my privates. The final touch below the waist
was a pair of white patent-leather shoes. When I saw them, I could not
believe I was meant to walk in them.
"These are called 'ballet shoes,'" Mistress Samantha explained
as she buckled the things to my feet. "As you can see, the height of
the heels--about eight inches--and the extreme curve of the arch force
you to walk with almost all your weight on your toes, just like a
ballerina!" She secured the buckles with tiny padlocks. "Stand up and
let me see how you walk in them--NOW!"
Once again, seemingly without my mind having any control over my
body, I stood and minced in the painfully sexy shoes. I looked into the
full-length mirror on the Mistress's wall and saw how the strange
footwear further emphasized my feminine gait, forcing my ass to wiggle
provocatively and my boobs to jiggle even more than usual.
"Beautiful! Carol, you're certain to be the hit of the party!"
Mistress Samantha exclaimed.
Party?! I was going to a party like this?
"All right, Carol, now sit at the vanity," she instructed. "I
want to be sure your makeup is perfect for the evening." Thirty minutes
later, I stared at my reflection in the vanity mirror. The mistress had
indeed done a masterful job with my face. My eyes looked large and
bright, accented with greenish eyeshadow and three coats of mascara. My
cheeks glowed with the blush of rouge, aided by the natural blush of my
embarrassment at my growing predicament. My lips were as red as
cherries, p erfectly shaped into a Cupid's bow pout. But my face was not
the end of my makeup job that night.
Mistress Samantha moved down to my breasts, dusting them with
powder until they were nearly as white as my corset. Next, she took the
cherry-red lipstick she used on my lips and carefully colored my erect
nipples. The final effect was almost unbearably erotic--with the pure
white of my clothing, I looked like a virgin in heat!
Then it dawned on me. If Mistress Samantha has gone to the
trouble of making up my breasts--then I'm not going to be wearing
anything over them! She obviously saw the light go on in my eyes. "Yes,
Carol, darling. With but a few ex ceptions, this is your outfit for the
evening," she said, smiling evilly. "And I must say you look
scrumptious. Perhaps next time, I'll pierce your nipples and hang a
chain from them--that should bring some attention at the office and the
gym!"
My cheeks colored again. Would she really consider so permanent
a change in my male appearance? So much had changed in our relationship
since Mistress Samantha had discovered the transformation spell that I
couldn't be sure.
Now came the final accessories: a white patent-leather collar
that the mistress padlocked to my throat and a silvery pair of handcuffs
that she locked me into, with my arms behind my back. She produced a
chain lead and clipped it to the colla r, locking the other end onto a
heavy chair. "Just so you don't go anywhere while I change into my party
clothes," she laughed. As if I would go anywhere, locked into this
semblance of submissive femininity!
A few moments later, Mistress Samantha emerged, dressed to kill.
She wore a tight-fitting floor-length black satin gown, with a slit up
the left side to her hip, revealing her garters and stocking top. It had
a halter neckline, the back bare nearly to her ass, making it obvious
that the garter belt and sheer black stockings were her only underwear.
Her feet were clad in black patent-leather sandals with 6-inch heels,
showing off her red-painted toenails (nails that I had personally poli
shed only the previous night). A black patent-leather collar, matching
my own white one, showed at her neck--and a riding crop dangled from her
left wrist.
She picked up the end of my lead, smirking. "Come along, pet--or
we'll be late," she cooed, leading me through the door and to her car.
I struggled to get in, hampered as I was by the bonds on my wrists and
the "ballet shoes" on my feet. Once I was inside, any hopes I had for
slumping in my seat in order to be less noticeable instantly
disappeared, as Mistress Samantha firmly buckled me into the seat
harness, making any attempt at hiding nearly impossible.
Fortunately, the trip to the party was uneventful. The same
cannot be said for our arrival. As Mistress Samantha pulled into the
parking lot, I instantly recognized the name on the front of the
establishment where the party was being held--Le sbos! A notorious
hangout for the lesbian D/S set, I had often fantasized about being
brought here under circumstances not unlike the situation I found myself
in tonight. But those were only fantasies--now I was living them, and I
wasn't sure I wante d to!
The mistress unbuckled my seat belt and aided me in getting out
of the car. Then she took my lead in her hand and escorted me to the
door of the club. "This is a very special night at Lesbos," she
explained as we waited for her secret knock t o be answered. "No
dominant is allowed in without a slave in tow. You'll have lots of
company."
The "bouncer" was Evelyn, Mistress Samantha's friend from the
beauty parlor where I had had my first transformation completed.
Kneeling beside her was Christy, her TV assistant from the salon. The
feminized male was nearly naked, his slender but masculine body in clear
view. Still, Christy looked suitably feminine--her hair was set in a
softly waved pageboy, her face was made up with Evelyn's usual cosmetic
skill and, like me, her breasts had been powdered and rouged to
emphasize their f emininity. She wore a garter belt and fishnet
stockings, with her feet locked into black pumps with a T-strap and six-
inch heels.
"Is this Carol, Sam?" Evelyn asked. "What a wonderful job you've
done with her!" I blushed (all over) at Evelyn's enthusiastic reaction
to my submissive predicament. "C'mon in, the party's just getting
started."
She stepped aside and let us enter the semi-darkened club. In
many ways, it was a submissive cross-dresser's wet dream--a room filled
with beautiful dominant lesbians, many of whom--like Samantha and
Evelyn--who delighted in transforming subm issive men into the sweet
feminine objects of their lust. Obviously, I was in for a night to
remember!
NEXT: A NIGHT AT LESBOS
MAGIC TRANSFORMATION, PART FOUR
As Mistress Samantha had said, every dominant woman in the room
was accompanied by a slave, every slave dressed in a variant of rampant
femininity, while the mistresses were generally clad in leather. Not
every slave was male, either--about h alf of them were real women who
reveled in their submission as much as the males did. Many of the cross-
dressed males were difficult to tell apart from their female submissive
counterparts. Obviously, a great number of these lesbian dominants were
ex perts at transforming men into acceptable, even attractive women.
My mistress noticed me eyeing the panoply, as I paid special
attention to the other forced-dressed men. "Don't worry, Carol,
honey," she cooed. "Not a one of them can hold a candle to you.
You're sure to win the competition!" Competition? I was going to
be a participant in some kind of contest?
It had started innocently enough with a trip to the mall. I
had bought a few building supplies and was getting ready to head
home when I decided to just browse through the local lingerie
store, Pat's Lingerie. It was about 8:30, they closed at 9:00 so
I hoped it wouldn't be very crowded. There were two other
shoppers and one clerk. The clerk asked if I needed some help but
I said I was just browsing. Shortly thereafter the two women left
and I was left alone with the store clerk. She wasn't paying much
attention to me and I was able to fondle much of the very
sensuous lingerie on the racks. I guess I got a bit adventuresome
around one of the merry widow corsets because she walked over and
startled me by saying, "Would you like to try that on?" To say I
was surprised would not even come close to my reaction. I must
have turned beat red and before I could stammer anything out she
followed with, "I could tell you like to cross-dress the minute
you walked in the store." I figured the jig was up and asked her
how she knew. She said she had owned the store for a long time
and was pretty sharp. She said more men than I could ever could
imagine would come in and buy things for themselves. Of course I
did this too but it was usually at Woolworths or K-Mart. She
said, "Well." I said "Are you sure its okay." She turned, walked
to the door and flipped off the light and put the closed sign in
the window. She motioned for me to go to the back. I said I would
go in one of the dressing rooms, but she said no, do it right
here. I figured this might be fun and I stripped buck naked right
there on the floor. I could tell she thought I was attractive and
my body was nice, even though slightly out of shape. I started to
put on the corset and she came around and gave me a hand. My the
time it was encasing my body there was another problem, my cock
was fully engorged and sticking way out. She ignored that and
said she would get me some stockings. She came back and handed me
the pair which I quickly covered my legs with. It was obvious I
had done this many times before as I had no trouble attaching the
stockings to the pink lacy garters. Once dressed I am completely
submissive and unable to do anything except what I am told. She
said, "I think you would make a really nice French Maid, don't
you?" I said "If you think so."She hurried to the front of the
store and grabbed a bunch of items and told me to get in her car,
we were going to a party. I said what about my clothes, my car.
She said I could get it later when she was through with me. Off
we drove. She gave me instructions as how to act when we arrived.
We walked in the door and there were 3 other women there. They
were obviously half drunk and watching some dirty movies on the
VCR. Pat said, "Look what I found girls." They howled as they saw
me parade in, still in the corset and stockings. I quickly went
to each woman and said "Hi my name in Jerk-Off, I am your maid
for the evening. If there is anything I can do for you let me
know. The girls names were Debbie, Linda and Sally. First they
got me out of the corset and said a proper maid must be attired
just so. First came white panties with frilly lace around the
bottom. Then came a white brassiere and pads to stuff it with. A
white garter belt was wrapped around my waist and sheer stockings
were then attached to the garters. A very short slip with lacy
trim was next followed by the maids uniform. It was black with
white lacy trim on the sleeves, collar and at the bottom. I was
in ecstasy and thought I was going to cum at any moment but I
knew that would be a mistake. Next came little white wrist cuffs,
a choker, ankle bracelet, a white satin apron, a pair of earrings
and a little maids cap. I know I looked like a lingerie jerk-off
now. Finally, A pair of black pumps were put on my feet and I was
told to walk around the room. I had no trouble, and from the
comments I knew they loved the show. I was told to curtesy and
then go fix them another drink while they planned my next
assignment. I delicately curtsied and off I went to the kitchen.
When I returned, Sally said "Jerk-Off, come over here and eat my
asshole." Before I could even respond she had turned around and
lifted up her skirt and there it was. I dropped to my knees and
stuck my tongue right in her crack. I glided it right into her
anus and licked it clean. She said I did a very good job and I
said "Thank you for letting me."
Over the next two hours, I was the perfect French Maid. I
did everything I was told to do, including the laundry which was
mostly lingerie. I loved washing it and folding it. I hoped this
would continue forever. Finally, they said I was to be rewarded.
I would be allowed to jerk-off for them. I was so hot that I knew
I would cum very quickly and wanted to give them a good show. I
stood in the middle of the living room and took my panties down.
I love to take my panties down for others, and they lay on the
floor in a feminine pile of lace. I started to beat-off my cock
going very slowly to make the sensation last. We all knew I was
history though and they made me lay down on my back, all the
while I was pounding on my pecker. Debbie came around and grabbed
my legs and flung them over my head and held them right next to
the floor. That stuck my ass way up in the air and my prick only
inches from my face. Linda took a big dildo and greased it up and
shoved it up my asshole with no hesitation at all. It hurt a
little but I love being violated and humiliated by this foursome.
A few seconds later, the sensations in my pelvis mounted and I
came as I had never cum before. It shot all over my face with at
least half of it dropping directly onto my tongue. I swallowed it
all down. I lay there on the floor unable to move, the vibrator
was removed and I fell asleep. The last thing I heard was Debbie
saying, "This was fun, I can't wait to continue on 'her'
tomorrow.
I woke up with the realization that I was still dressed as a
maid, I felt very content and comfortable as I contemplated what
had transpired the night before. I knew I would never be the
same, and my life would forever be changed. The girls quickly
came in and ushered me into the shower which felt so warm. Linda
came in and said to make sure I really cleaned my asshole well
and she instructed me as to how best to do this. I really soaped
up my finger and rammed it in my ass as if I was fucking myself.
An erection quickly followed but she said that was naughty and to
not touch it. I served all of them breakfast and they said we all
were going shopping and told me that if I didn't do exactly as
they said I would suffer very severe consequence, including never
seeing them again. Underneath my male outer clothes I wore a
white bra and a pair of lacy petti-pants. In addition a butt-plug
was inserted in my ass and fastened so that it could not slip
out. The feeling was unbelievable. First we went to Penney's
which has really improved their lingerie department in the last
few years. Only Debbie stayed with me and she kept a few feet
away so that the clerks would not know we were together but so
that she could hear my every word. It was just a few seconds when
the sales clerk, a nice young college girl asked me if I needed
any assistance. I glanced at Debbie, she was watching me, and I
said, "Yes, I am looking for a pair of white satin panties" She
led me to the various panty racks and said "What size is she?"
The moment I had dreaded had arrived but Debbie was right there
so I stammered, "These are for....me!" She looked up and said
"Are you some kind of a weirdo or what?" I said "No, I am just a
little French Maid who loves to wear frilly lingerie all the
time." She said "Whatever floats your boat" She helped me pick
out a pair, I paid for them and left. The girls were waiting for
me and Debbie filled them in and said I had done OK.
Next we went to a local department store, this time Linda
and Sally stayed right near me. This time a middle aged women
appeared asking if she could help me. I said "Yes, I am looking
for a very sheer pastel pink bra." Appropriately she asked what
size she was and I said 42C. She showed me a few and I said this
one would do best and off I went. Sally was really pissed off and
she quickly told the other girls that I had not told the clerk it
was for me. They said I must be punished for this infraction and
led me down the mall to the restroom. Linda went inside and said
all was clear, and into the ladies room I went. They led me into
a stall and Sally produced a eight inch dildo which looked
exactly like a cock. She had me drop my pants and bend over the
toilet and stuffed the dildo into my mouth. As I did this she
started to paddle my fanny silly. It felt so nice since I had the
lace petti-pants on and she kept on until my cheeks were crimson.
Finally, she said that was enough and asked if I understood the
punishment. I said I did and would not let this happen again. She
said "Who are you". I said "I am a lingerie jerk-off, a slut
whore, and a panty-waist". She said don't you forget it. The last
stop on own shopping spree was a lingerie store. All the girls,
accompanied me but they went in first and pretended to be looking
for a variety of items. I followed as instructed. It was a big
store and had quite a few other customers in it although they
were all female except myself. A gorgeous women of about 35 came
up and said what could she help me with. I said "I...I...I need
to buy a complete set...set...set of........lingerie." She said "
I see, What exactly did you have in mind" I responded "I need a
garter-belt and stockings, a couple of half and full slips, a
couple of bras, a couple of pairs of panties, some tap pants and
a camisole." I could see the girls off to the side giggling as
they watched me. She said fine, "I hope you have the girls
measurements so these will fit correctly". I said they are for me
so that will be no problem at all. She laughed and said "Right
fella, am I on Candid Camera?" I said it was no joke and that I
loved to dress in female lingerie all the time. She was pretty
shocked and said, 'Are you wearing it now?" Without any
hesitation, I slowed unbuttoned the top couple of buttons of my
shirt so that she could she the lacy trim outlining the cups of
the brassiere. She said "Wow, this is really wild". We then
proceeded to go throughout the store and pick up all the required
items. Whenever, we were exactly sure of the size, she was able
to hold the garment up to me so that we could tell. Eventually, a
couple of other clerks came over and found out my secret and
discussed my training with my girls. It was so gratifying to be
totally dominated and humiliated by all of these women. We
finally finished and went back to the girls' house where we
rested before further training which was planned for that
evening.
After I rested that afternoon, I was led into the living
room where the ultimate evening had been planned for me. In the
middle of the room were some chairs which I didn't understand at
first. First I was fitted with some of the new garments which we
had purchased. A wispy light blue bra and matching garter-belt
and stockings were carefully put on me. I was then put on my
knees and had my feet tied to the chairs, very far apart so that
when bent over my ass stuck way out and up in the air. I was then
bent down so that my hands were bound to two chair legs and I
couldn't move at all. Before I knew what happened, the front door
was opened and in walked about 20 people! Both men and women.
Each closely examined my situation and sat down around me. First
one of the women lay down underneath me and gently sucked on my
engorged cock, it could have gone off, but just then she stopped.
I was so hot and sweating I thought I would burst. Everyone was
quieted and I proceeded to introduce myself as I had been taught.
Hi, my name is Jerk-Off, I love to wear all types of feminine
frillies and will do anything you want me too. I am a lingerie
slut whore and french maid. Please do what you like with me.
Quickly, one of the girls lay underneath me and started to play
with her enormous tits. One of the girls took off her skirt and
came around the front of me and shoved a gorgeous white slip
right in front of my face. "Go for it slut".
I knelt down and buried my face the in silky white slip in
front of me. It was trimmed in lace and felt delicious and it
covered and mouth, my nose and my eyes. I reached around behind
and grabbed it so my hands were caressing the delicateness of the
lingerie and they held cheek snugly. Slowly I began to lift up
the slip being very careful not to let it depart from being in
contact with my face at any moment. Pretty soon my head was
buried under the slip, the place I need to be as often as
possible. Directly in front of my face, was not what you think
but surprise, a long semi-hard cock! I had never sucked one
before, in fact I had never seen one, erect in person until this
moment. I was hesitant but knew what I must do. It immediately
responded to the touch of my lips and started to perk up. As it
did I took my tongue and started to lick the head and the shaft,
Soon it was at a full eight inches long and hard and shiny. I
engulfed the entire thing in my mouth with glee. I sucked it for
all I was worth. I sucked and sucked til I knew it was going to
cum in my mouth. I wanted my mouth filled with the squirt so that
I could swallow it all and truly be a slut whore. With my head
still encased in the slip he came, it seemed to cum for so long
with great gobs of cum falling on my tongue and lubricating my
throat. I swallowed every last drop and then licked the shaft
clean. I then stood up and thanked him for giving me the pleasure
to of sucking his cock. He said the fun had just begun. He told
me I was lingerie jerk-off and before the weekend was over I
would do things that I had only fantasized about in the past.
After finishing my first blow job, I still couldn't move and
a guy got up and came around behind me. The girls screamed, "Fuck
his little asshole, Fuck him hard". He buried it in my ass and
rammed it home. One of the girls cam around and stuck her ass in
my face. I said "May I please lick your asshole" She said "Clean
it bitch". As I licked her little hole, the big cock exploded in
my ass. Before the night was over I had been fucked in the ass 3
different times, had sucked 4 different cocks to orgasm and had
cum 6 or 7 times myself. My fantasy had come true. On Sunday, I
talked with the girls about the experience and how enjoyable it
had been. We watched football, and they told me how much they
enjoyed it also. We plan to do it again in a month or two and we
plan some even more intriguing experiences. I love lingerie.
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