From Saul@EmanEslaf.intl.Prsa.net Mon Feb 17 06:21:57 1997
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: TG: Hypnotized into Tabitha 1/2
From: "Saul O. Synjin" <Saul@EmanEslaf.intl.Prsa.net>
Date: Mon, 17 Feb 1997 03:21:57 -0800

Tabitha (Part 1)


     The add said: understand women. I thought what the Hell,
after my last girlfriend left me, I needed something like this. I
answered it with a phone call. A pleasant feminine voice
reaffirmed my confidence, reassured my fears, and set me up with
an appointment. I went the next Thursday.
     I sat in the outer office for almost an hour, and when I
finally got up to leave, having complained to the secretary (and
in truth having the chance to stare at her for an hour was more
than a privilege), I decided to fuck it all. That's when she slid
back the glass partition and told me the doctor would see me.
     Doctor? I was seeing a doctor? It was the first I'd heard of
it. The add hadn't said anything about it, nor had the door. I
entered and she met me. A brunette with warm honey brown eyes.
Her face was slim and her figure petite, but with two
unmistakably big breasts bulging even through the professionalism
of her suit, which ended in a skirt. She sat on the side of her
desk after shaking my hand and motioning me to a chair. I must
have stared at her long smooth legs for half an hour, because
when she finally started with the treatment, I realized I hadn't
listened to a thing she had said.
     "So, if you really want to understand them, just give the
word, and I think we can help you."
     "Well, I do," I replied, and her smile made me so hard I
almost couldn't bare to sit.
     She looked at me with a strange sort of look, one of
satisfaction I think, and said, "Fine. If you'll just help me, I
think we can help you."
     She gestured to the wall, where two pieces of paneling swung
back and revealed a huge circle. There were spirals of red and
white winding their way like the yellow brick road to the center.
She sat in a chair beside me.
     "Now, first I think we should help you relax. Don't worry,
It'll be over in a second."
     Only now did I notice the hypodermic sitting on the end
table. She picked it up, uncapped it, gave it a hearty squirt,
and I began to eye it and squirm uncontrollably.
     "Is that really necessary?" I asked nervously.
     "Look," she said frankly, "I've done a dozen of these things
and I'll be honest. You are attracted to me."
     I looked away ashamed. She was right. I could think of
nothing more than slithering my tongue up those legs and pushing
my penis deep into her. I wanted to see her close her eyes and
moan, but still for her to know that and admit it to me was
embarrassing.
     "It's okay," she continued, and placed a hand on my leg.
"But it does present a problem. As long as you think of me as a
woman and not as a doctor, I can't help you. You need to relax,
and a man like you seldom does that upon a first meeting with a
woman to whom he is attracted, physician or not. All I want to do
is give you a little something to relax."
     She leaned over before I could refuse and pushed up my
sleeve. Within a second she squeezed my arm and a vein popped up
as if by her command. "It'll be over," the needle stung, "before
you know it." She pulled it out.
     "It's just a sedative, and a mild hypnotic. You won't
actually feel anything but relaxed. I have to do the real work.
Don't worry. We can stop whenever you wish."
     I stared down at my arm, and then back at her. "How long
before I feel it actually working?"
     "It shouldn't take long. But if you are worried or want to
look for some signs, you'll have trouble moving your eyes about.
Meaning you'll suddenly begin to fixate on whatever catches your
eye. In fact, why don't we go ahead and test it, and I'll show
you the difference."
     I said okay, and felt a sudden compelling urge to breathe
deeply. I did so and immediately lost my anxiety. The drug was
already taking effect, and my entire body seemed to go limp.
Everything seemed to become extremely casual. She raised a finger
and held it up to the right of me, instructing me to follow it
with my eyes carefully. I did so, and for a moment she kept it
there, then slowly moved it across my gaze to the left. I watched
it, following it without trouble. And after a few moments of
studying my gaze carefully, she moved it back to the center. I
again followed it without problem.
     "Fine," she said, "it's not working full strength yet. We'll
wait a few moments and try again. In the meantime, why don't you
tell me why it is you want to understand women badly."
     "Well," I said, pausing to let another deep breath take me--
they were getting deeper and harder to stop. "My girlfriend left
me because I didn't understand her. I don't even understand what
she meant by that. Look, I just want to know what women want. Bad
enough to come to you for help. I didn't know you were a doctor.
Hell I didn't even know--"
     I paused, my eyes blinking, staring at her nameplate but not
reading it. It felt like early morning, as if I'd just woken up
and had two dozing eyes. I shook my head, but it did no good; it
was so heavy on my shoulders, and my body was like clay, a
thoughtless, obedient lump. I was breathing terribly deep and
staring mindlessly at her desk. Then I shook my head, blinked
again, this time waking up, and tried to remember just what it
was I'd been saying.
     She looked at me piercingly, and said with a low smooth
voice, so soothing and soft in every way it could have put me to
sleep even without the drug, "Why don't we try again, hmmm?"
     She raised a finger, but I was staring at her tie, and
wondering what her breasts looked like. "Ahem!" she said, and I
switched my attention to her finger. There it was to my right,
and I obeyed her instructions to watch it. Then, it was gone. It
was as if time had suddenly passed me by, because I woke up and
saw her finger had moved to my left. I looked at it, being more
careful to keep my attention. But after a second I drifted and
the next thing I knew it was centered directly before me. I
hadn't seen it move once.
     "Whoa," I sighed, my eyelids growing irresistibly heavy, and
looked her in the eye out of amazement. She smiled, lifted my lid
to analyze my condition and caressed my cheek warmly. She came
ever so close to me, and gave me a small kiss. It was terribly
erotic and lasted forever. Everything moved in slow motion.
     "Good, I think it's taking effect," she said, each word
crisp, enunciated carefully and cleanly.
     She moved behind me, placed her hands on my cheeks, and
gently directed my eyes to the great circle which I now noticed
was spinning slowly, all the spirals leading to the center. I
watched it turn for a second helplessly, and was quickly
entranced with the patterns, leading inward, always inward,
turning, turning, circling, and encircling me, making me feel off
balanced.
     Then her low and quiet voice became soothing and teasing. It
was so soft and enticing I could only listen.
     "Just relax and watch the center," she said, her fingers
massaging little circles into my temples. "See how the red lines
lead you in, in, always in, until you are at the center? The
white lines lead in, too, in, always in, until you are the
center. Listen to my voice, let it soooothe you. Let it take away
all your fears, only my voice, my voice only, so soft and
relaxing. You are relaxing completely, watching the circle spin
around and around, leading you inward, inward, until you are at
the very center, and relaxed. Completely, totally relaxed,
leading inward, inward, softly relaxing you. My voice only,
making your eyes tired, very heavy, very tired. You are
completely relaxed and sleepy."
     My eyelids were so heavy, even my head began to droop but I
still looked at the circle spinning, spinning, listening only to
her voice, making me so sleepy.
     "Watching, listening, sleepy," she whispered close to my
ear. Her lips touched them, and I could feel them move as she
spoke, but her words were gently taking control. "You must sleep,
you must close your eyes, even if only for a second. Only for a
second, let your eyes close. You are at the very center, all the
lines leading towards you, and you are so, so weary, so very,
very weary, so tired you must sleep. Close your eyes, relax, let
them fall, so heavy, your arms, legs, and head so heavy, as if a
dozen lead weights are pulling on them, pulling them down. Watch
the circle making you sooo tired, so sleepy. Even if only for a
second, close your eyes, you must--"
     I closed my eyes, but only for a second.
     "--close your eyes. Good," and her voice began to trail off,
"You will listen to me, and to me only, you will obey, and
remember noth--"



     I awoke, and felt different. I sighed a nice warm sigh,
stretching my arms above me, letting the covers slip away, and
got to my feet. I felt lighter, shorter. Paying it no mind, not
even remembering what had happened the night before or trying to,
I went into the bathroom to urinate.
     Once at the toilet, I stood above it and reached my hand
habitually for my penis, missing it on the first try, and the
second. Sleepily opening one eye, I looked down and reached
again, feeling my bladder begin to ache.
     Nothing.
     I opened both eyes.
     JESUS! IT WAS GONE!
     Wait a minute, wait a minute, I calmed myself, closing my
eyes once more. Something was wrong. Let's just ease in to this.
Your penis doesn't just disappear. It's still there, or you're
still in bed.
      I looked again, this time with both eyes. It was gone. In
it's place a nice patch of pubic hair hung close to my body, but
the real me was gone. I was gone. Then I suddenly realized to
look down there I had to bend over slightly to see over my--over
my--
     breasts.
     I turned to the mirror. There a beautiful blonde woman stood
in a body I lusted for. Her breasts were perfect, with two round
nipples straight and hard. I looked down, spying the same. Yes, I
was excited, of course I was fucking excited. I felt for my penis
once more, finding only hair, and further down a large opening
where my fingers felt the familiar warmth and wetness of a
vagina. A stab of pleasure went through me.
     How long I touched myself, stared at myself, told myself it
wasn't happening I don't know. But the next thing I remembered I
was hiding beneath the covers. Hiding from my own body, my new
body. There was the sound of a doorbell. I didn't answer, but I
heard the whoosh of a door sliding open. It was her voice, still
as soft and luxurious, and I suddenly remembered her giving me
the needle. I poked my head above the covers, having to push a
wave of blond hair out of my eyes. It was an awkward thing to do.
     She was accompanied by two orderlies.
     "I know what a shock this is, believe me. We are here to
help."
     "You Bitch! What have you done to me? Where's my body?"
     "Please, just let us help you. We can help you adjust."
     "I don't want to adjust. I want my body back."
     The two orderlies grabbed me, and in my own body I could
have taken at least one of them, but these arms were weak, and
even when I grunted helplessly, it was a female's complaint that
came out, not a man's. I was no longer a man.
     We went down many corridors, but finally arrived at a door
and I was swept in and placed in a chair, quickly strapped in, my
arms, legs, and head suddenly immobile. He thanked the woman who
had brought me, dismissed the orderlies, and sat down before me.
     "I'm here to help you adjust. Here is what you can expect."
     I shivered in fear, unsure of what to do.
     "After this session and others, you'll feel comfortable for
awhile, then the feelings of being a man will creep back in, but
slowly you will adjust and eventually you will have forgotten
what it was like to be a man, and soon you will want only to be a
woman."
     "Never," I said with gritted teeth.
     He smiled and pulled up my nightshirt, which I only now
realized covered no underwear. My legs were stretched apart by
the chair and I felt something uncomfortable enter me. It pushed
inside of me, and finally stopped. Then he fitted my head with a
metal band.
     "We will stimulate the vagina and the hypothalamus with
pleasurable sensations under a deep drug enforced hypnosis and
let you have wet dreams of men, and of make-up, and shaving your
legs, and everything being a woman entitles. Then we will give
you a nasty shock, and send painful vibrations into your brain at
the same time we instruct you to remember being a man, and
lusting after women."
     "You're not putting me under again, no matter what you do."
     "The drug stays in your system for a minimum of six weeks,
which if you are not adjusted by then, you won't adjust. Within
the week, you'll have snapped and will be a woman from then on.
As long as the drug is in your system, the post suggestive word
she placed should activate you into an abnormally deep sleep, a
very suggestive unconsciousness. Shall we try?"
     "Fuck you."
     "Splabth."
     My eyes closed, I relaxed, and my mind opened.
     "Good, very good. Your name is Tabitha. You are a woman, you
like being a woman. Repeat that please."
     "My name is Tabitha. I am a woman, I like being a woman."
     "Good. You are attracted to men, and men only. You want men
to make love to you. Repeat that please."
     "I am attracted to men, and men only. I want them to make
love to me."
     "You are a woman. Repeat that please."
     "I am a woman."
     "Again, please."
     "I am a woman."
     "Again," he commanded.
     "I am a woman."
     "Again!" he said, more demanding.
     I responded the same. "I am a woman!"
     "With conviction, AGAIN!"
     "I am a woman!"
     He had me repeat it again and again, until finally I was
half believing it and saying, "I am a woman. Yes, I am a woman!"
     It finally stopped.
     "Tabitha," he called.
     I had somehow, though temporarily I'm sure, been convinced
that that was my name. "Yes," I said softly, like a child.
     "I want you to think of a woman. Think of her breasts, think
of her lips, think of her thighs, and her stomach."
     My mind was suddenly filled with the vision of a woman's
anatomy.
     "Think of her brushing against you, whispering in your ear.
Think of her underneath you, and you inside of her."
     I did so, and would have grown erect had I still owned a
penis. But there was a soft humming sound that was increasing,
and I began to feel my head and vagina contract. I began to grow
sick.
     "Picture yourself having sex with her, kissing her, slipping
your tongue deep inside her mouth. Hear her sighing, pleading
with you to make love to her, to go faster and deeper. Feel her
against you, sweaty and moving under your thrusts."
     The sickness grew, until I suddenly found myself in a
seizure. I was contracted in agony, and screaming. Electricity
was pouring into my head and making me shriek.
     "Picture it!"
     I held out for as long as I could and finally yelled, "NO!"
     The pain stopped, the sickness left, the electric jolts
ceased.
     "Picture a man," he said enticingly.
     I did so. Another humming began, but this one vibrated me in
a different way.
     "Feel him biting your neck, his weight on top of you, his
hands squeezing your nipples, his tongue deep inside your mouth,
playing with yours. Hear your sighs, you can't control them. Your
legs about his waist, squeezing, and him moving deep inside you."
     The vibrating between my legs was bringing me to a feverous
pitch. God! It felt good, and the vibrating in my brain
reinforced it beyond reason. I was in perfect pleasure, unable to
think but what he asked of me.
     "Feel him thrusting inside you, pulling out, thrusting,
pulling out. Again, again, again, faster, faster, faster, again,
making you scream with pleasure, making you hold him with
abandon, making you say his name again and again, saying yes, say
it with me, yes, yes, more, yes."
     "Yes," I said because if felt so good. It was rising in me,
this pleasure, leading me somewhere. "More," I said because I
couldn't bare it if it stopped, I needed all he had to give.
     "You need it so bad. YES! Now, you say, now! And he thrusts
deep inside you and you feel him, and dig your nails into his
back, your head on his shoulder, your legs wrapped tight around
his waist, your behind lifting from the bed. NOW!"
     And By God I began to orgasm, and it continued, I pulsed and
twitched inside with feelings I'd never had before, caught up
helplessly in his homemade fantasy, sure I only wanted to feel
more of the man inside me.
     It was at the climax that he played his hand, his final
ploy, hanging close to my ear whispering these words.
     "Tabitha is your name. You are a woman. You only want to be
a woman. Everything that is a woman you are, for now and forever.
You love men. You are friends with women. You like women, but you
make love with men. You listen when they talk, do what they say.
You are easily controlled."
     The climax continued, another orgasm hitting me hard, and I
was totally receptive to his every word.
     "Man is dominant, you are feminine. You like make-up. You
like frilly dresses, and showing off your legs. You like men
feeling you and looking at you. You want only to be pretty. Only
to be woman. Only to be beautiful and feminine. You are helpless
to resist."
     Finally, the waves of pleasure left me and I began to lose
the shudders and became very weak. I breathed, feeling as if I
was floating on a waterbed, warm, weak, floating in a nice
aftermath of ecstasy. I was still deep under hypnosis, and he
removed the headband and the Sensizer from between my legs by
instructing me not to feel it. I didn't. Then he unstrapped me
and brought me slowly out of the trance.
     I opened my eyes. I was exhausted, but as he watched me, I
instantly and instinctively closed my legs, keeping the knees
together in a typically feminine way. This time, when I
stretched, I did it with my wrists out, and feeling my breasts
push delightfully out, and finally stood. He offered a hand, said
he hoped the next session would go well, and when I took his
hand, I held it gently, with a slightly loose wrist.
     The orderlies escorted me back to my room, and I knew I
needed a shower, not knowing the hypnotist had instructed me to
need one. I turned it on, stripped and felt the hot water soothe
away all the sweat. Then, suddenly, while washing, I found my
legs were uncomfortably rough. There was stubble, and I knew I
should shave, but something inside of me refused.
     I exited the shower, found my men's clothes, and tried them
on. They didn't seem right, but I was damned if I was going to
wear women clothes. I was damned if they were going to make me
into a woman. I left the room without any problem and returned
after only a few moments. Unable to help myself, whether by
compulsions or just sheer comfort, I took my shirt off, went
through the drawers of my chifforobe and found a brassiere.
Slipping the straps over my shoulders, I stretched the cups
around to my breasts and hooked the center together. I was
grateful that that was where it fastened. I wasn't sure if I
could handle one that secured in the back. With that done, I
replaced the shirt and went to lunch.
     While eating, my legs stayed together.



     So there I was in a life boat in the body of a beautiful
blonde girl. My shoulders were fragile and bare, my figure petite
but pretty, and my legs smooth and slim. I had beautiful feet,
and there was red polish still on their tips, and my hair flowed
down my shoulders hanging around my neck, tussled but beautiful.
My breasts were light and firm, the nipples still young enough to
point straight instead of sagging, and my face was young, with
thin pink lips, my nose sleekly pointing from there to two
dimples on either side of my small mouth. And my eyes were blue
and transparent.
     I searched for my penis and found it was gone, only finding
a delightful sensation awaiting when my finger inserted itself
between my legs. There my hand moved rhythmically having
obviously done this before and I breathed in pleasure, my breasts
heaving with each sigh. I moaned, and my voice was youthful and
sensual, a thin tone, but not so much small as full and lively. I
began to cry and realized at once that it felt good. My emotions
were irrational and I felt every bit a woman, stronger than I
expected but fragile in a way too by the way I sobbed.
     When I came, I felt such wonderful feelings, totally swept
away in the orgasm, but missing a man's touch. A man putting his
chest against mine, making me long for his kiss and his lips wet
on my forehead, and biting my neck. His tongue touching mine, and
his cock inserted within me, moving, pushing my legs wide until I
had no choice but to wrap them around his waist and give in. To
submit and let him have me in whatever way he wished, to let the
movements of his waist and my hips answering his completely
invade and control me.
     And soon when he was deep inside me, I felt the warmth of
his semen and it felt so wonderful to look into his face and see
the pleasure there, to see how he was at the same time completely
dependent on me and committed to pleasure. I controlled him
completely, and he said to me that he loved me, and lord help me
I believed him; and wanted him to stay with me for the rest of my
life, and be pregnant with his child. God help me I wanted to
bear children for this man. I truly had no ability to obey at
least for the moment. He said whatever he said and I nodded,
kissed him deeply and was his forever.
     The next day, I looked in the mirror, pleased with what I
saw, but missing my male body. I was no longer able to look at
women with lust. Something in me had changed; they had done
something to my mind; and worse made it so I wouldn't mind. I
actually seemed happy that they had changed all of me, including
my personality. I knew I didn't have much time (although if I had
still been male three hours would've been boring), because my
date was coming to pick me up and I had to get ready.
     To the bathroom I went and started to pour myself a bath. I
didn't feel like a shower today; I wanted to pamper myself. (They
had really done a good job on the mental side of me, changed me
completely. I couldn't even remember what it was like to have a
penis, to just jump in the shower, to walk like a giant, or sit
with my legs spread apart. I even tried it, but it seemed wrong,
awkward, completely unfeminine, and I just wanted to be a woman.)
     When the tub was filled, my bath drawn and foamy (I had put
some moisturizing bath cubes in it), I disrobed and soaked for a
while. Then, soaping up my legs and putting on some cream, I took
a razor and shaved them. But I couldn't get it all, so I found a
bottle of Nair, and tried again. This time they were so smooth
and slick I could hardly believe it. They felt good this way.
     When I got out, drying myself, my skin felt very soft, and I
bundled my hair up in a towel. I just folded it up in a cone like
I had seen my girlfriend do a hundred times, like it was second
nature. Then after I was sufficiently dried, I toweled my hair
and combed it out, and put in a little mousse. I then blow dried
it and after that was done I could only wait for it to settle so
I could run a brush through it one last time. In the meantime, I
sat on my bed, still in robe, and found some nail polish. It was
a light pink, and I liked it so much I did my toes with it, too.
I had to be careful not to smudge my fingernails as I painted my
toes, and not to get it on the sheets, and I spent some time
blowing on my nails before I went back into the bathroom to sit
before the mirror.
     Some foundation went on first, rubbing it in with my
fingers, then a little blush just on top of my cheekbones leading
and darkening as I approached my ears. Not too bad, I thought,
for having only been a woman a little over a day. Then I brushed
my eyebrows, but they didn't seem to do right, and I realized I
would have to pluck them. It was not something I wanted to do,
but otherwise they wouldn't look right. It hurt. I didn't realize
how much it hurt just to look good, but I kept wincing with the
pain as I pulled hair out with a pair of tweezers. After it was
done, I used some clear mascara to smooth them down.
     Then I applied a light gold to my eyelids, placing a light
brown in the center leading inward, to make the bridge of my nose
look thinner. I was already beginning to find things I didn't
like, things I would never have noticed as a man. With a darker
brown, I ran a line just above my lashes, then decided on a dark
black mascara. I looked up and tried to make my bottom lashes
look long. Once coated, the top lashes did look long and I curled
them up. I gazed into the mirror and noticed how pretty it made
my eyes. I liked them, and put another light coat on the bottom
lashes to better show them off. Then, with a thin liner, a deep
gold, I ran a line under my eye. The mixture of colors really
brought out the blue in my eyes. 
     After that was done. I ran a lip pencil around my lips,
tracing the exact form I wanted to see, and applied lipstick, it
was pink, like my nails. I tried a beige color first, making them
gloss but it didn't match my nails. I was beginning to think
women were hypersensitive to color, always wanting them to match.
Anyway, the pink looked good, and I figured I'd have to find an
outfit that--an outfit, Shit I hadn't even looked.
     In the closet, I found two things I liked. One was a black
miniskirt which would show off my legs, and I could wear some
dark hose with it, maybe some lacy stockings, and some pumps, but
I didn't like the blouse that went with it, and I couldn't find
anything better. The second was a one piece, a red dress that cut
off right at my upper thighs, and I thought it might show off a
little too much of my legs. How did women get away without
showing their panties to everyone? I could still wear the dark
hose, and use the gold jacket that hung on a hanger. It would be
baggy on me, but it would look so good with the dress.
     I took off the robe, unable to believe I was going to wear a
dress on my second day as a woman, especially as one as tight and
as revealing as this one, and slipped the dress up my legs. It
got tight around the waist, but with some squirming, and the
dress was designed to be tight, I managed to get it up all the
way. I quickly realized I either couldn't wear a bra with it, or
I would have to find a strapless one, because the dress sat low
on my shoulders, leaving most of them bare. I also wouldn't be
able to bend down, or lean over unless I wanted to display my
breasts to the world. I held it up with my hands, and looked into
the mirror. Man, I was hot! If I was a man I would've fallen in
love with myself at first sight. I slipped out of the dress, and
found some hose. Slipping them on without putting holes in them
with my long nails was a challenge, but I quickly soon learned
how to do it. Inserting my thumbs inside, and using the flats of
my fingers I eased them up, slipping them smoothly past my knee
and up my thigh, feeling them slick against my legs, and then
standing I worked them up my waist, feeling my legs so
wonderfully smooth I got excited just feeling them, and they
looked good too. My legs were shiny, and thin, and my panties
would turn on any man. They rode high on my hips, and barely
covered me at all, almost a g-string, but kind of like jockeys
too. Once the hose was up, the doorbell rung. Jesus, he was
early!
     I walked around for a second, not knowing what to do. I
hadn't even looked for shoes yet. Running to the door, I opened
it and saw an incredible man, with a tight sculptured jaw, and
penetrating eyes. He scanned my body (I'd put the robe back on)
and I melted when he gazed into my eyes and smiled. I smiled
back, trying not to blush or to gush and told him I wasn't ready,
and could he please wait. He said, no problem.
     I raced into the bathroom, lost the robe, struggled back
into the dress, and searched for a pair of shoes. The black pumps
were out, but there was a red pair just like them, and closed in
the toe. I didn't want anyone seeing my toenails, if I could help
it. I'd done a shitty job on them with the polish.
     With the heels on, I was helpless to walk except how they
told me to. They made me walk with a twist, shifting my weight
only just enough to keep balanced. It made me move sexily, and at
once I thought I would give him a thrill. Walking back into the
living room, I asked him if he could zip me up, having already
done it partway. No since in giving him a glance at my ass, not
yet anyway, then just as he was doing it (feeling his hands cold
on my skin, I shivered slightly, he apologized with a deep voice
that made me quiver inside and shiver all over again), I suddenly
realized I hadn't put on a bra. Oh God! Would he notice? Of
course he was going to notice. I would've if I was him. Oh well,
he zipped me up without mentioning it, and when I turned around,
he told me I looked great. I thanked him and gave him a kiss on
the cheek, completely by instinct. I never would've done it had I
thought about it, but it felt natural, and he seemed to like it.
     I got my jacket, put it on, picked up my purse, which I
seemed to know the location of at all times, and looped it around
my arm. I knew there were some cosmetics in it, and I could only
hope they would do for the night.
     I put on two gold ear rings that dangled loosely and would
lure people's gazes down to my neck. And there, I looped a small
red and black heart on a tiny gold chain. Then, taking one last
moment in the bathroom, I put a little dab of lip gloss in the
center of my bottom lip. If that didn't turn him on nothing
would. I wanted to turn him on, and it felt right. I checked my
hair one last time, smoothed the tight dress down around my hips,
and reentered.
     Back beside him, I said I was ready, still marveling at the
way he was looking at me, and the way the pumps were making me
walk. Then, he placed his hand on the small of my back and
ushered me through the door.
     Less than four hours later, I was helplessly seduced by him.
He had me however he wanted me. I was still very much under the
influence of the conditioning they had put me through. Whenever a
man spoke, I listened. I was submissive to his wants, following
his lead everywhere. And when he kissed me, I wasn't the
aggressor like I was afraid I might be, but the prey. They had
mind controlled me into being what they thought a woman should
be. I was now that woman. Pretty, clever, sexy, but completely
dominated by a strong male. I couldn't break out of it, every
time I tried I felt strangely uncomfortable. So awkward that I
could only do something helplessly feminine, like cross my legs.
     But when he opened my legs, felt my smooth thighs, breathed
on my neck and pushed himself deep inside me, I groaned, grunted,
and panted like a helpless little girl. I cried 'yes' and 'more'
and tried to give him what he wanted.
     That's how they had forced me to be, and even forced me to
want to be that way. Oh, god, I was a woman, and this guy was
completely dominating me, and I liked it.