TG post "Trading Places:not the same as the other 1+meg TP story

From alt.sex.stories.tg Wed Apr 10 13:16:27 1996 Path: fu-berlin.de!zib-berlin.de!Germany.EU.net!EU.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!newsfeeder.servtech.com!murphy2.servtech.com!news Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.tg Organization: ServiceTech, Inc. Lines: 3792 Message-ID: 315eca30.3539009@news.servtech.com NNTP-Posting-Host: hal.ceh.servtech.com X-Newsreader: Forte Agent .99d/32.168

Introduction

Welcome to my second effort at a 'published' story. My first effort "DOLL1" (available on finer gender boards everywhere) was the victim of over editing (I didn't want to offend anyone) was what I finally uploaded was truly a frail copy of what I have on my word processor. Doll 2 thur 5 were never uploaded for a large number of reasons, I still didn't want to offend and it was written just after I discovered cut and paste. Still, here is my third fantasy story (number 2 is still in the works at 215,000 bytes and growing). If you enjoy this, hate this, or just want to chat please leave me a note on either Carolyn's Closet or Tri-Ess.

Hugs and Kisses

Desiree

TRADING PLACES - Part 1

By Ms. Desiree Foster

As I watched from across the street, my mother's car pulled out of the driveway that fateful Monday one year ago, I was filled with mixed emotions. First I was glad that I was going to be, more or less, on my own. I was 17 and figured that I could take care of myself. Second, the person that had been charged with keeping an eye on me was my 'Aunt' Monica. She had lived with my mother and me ever since my Mom had divorced my Father ten years ago. My mother was 34 and Monica is 32. We live in Los Angeles, in the hills above the San Fernando valley. Our house is five bedrooms, built back when houses got built big, about 5400 square feet. Aunt Monica worked at a psychiatric hospital in Ridgechrest, a tiny town out in the middle of the Mojave Desert and it was a three hour one way drive, so she rarely comes home during the week. I figured that I had at least 5 days to myself. The third reason was that I had the keys to my sisters house in my hands, well in my bedroom actually. Oh, no one knew I had them. Three weeks ago, Jessica, my sister, had been over talking to Mom and Monica when they had decided on the spur of the moment to go to the movie. They asked me if I wanted to go with them, and I had declined on the grounds of homework. It was an hour after they left in Mom's Cadillac, Jessica owns a Corvette and Monica a Porche, that I noticed, laying on the couch, Jessica's key ring. In a flash the keys were in my hand and I was out the door and off on my bike. I have my license but no car so I peddled down to the 7-11 about a mile away. It cost me, but in 15 minutes, I had a full set of Jessica's keys. Now, I know your wondering why I would want the keys to my sister's house. First, because she was going into the hospital for three weeks, no she's not sick, she suffers from an 'eating disorder' and she was using her vacation time in hopes of beating it once and for all. I didn't understand why she's wasn't happy with herself, she's was a model and also owned a very successful model agency. As far as looks go she has a 38DD, 22, 36 figure and the best face and hair money can buy. Second, because she has a state of the art alarm system that requires a key to turn off. Third, because she has a fur vault in her basement that also need a key, and a sub basement that I've never been in, also locked with a key, keys that I now possessed. Third, well that will just have to wait.

As I watched Mom's Eldarado slowly back out, I thought how lucky it was that she had been called out of town, she's a costume designer for Universal Studio's and the offer had been to good to turn down. Needless to say, her closets were stuffed to overflowing with clothes. She had worked on both Dallas and Dynasty. In fact, she had done most of Joan Collins and Emma Sams clothes. Anyway, the house was now mine and more importantly, Jessica's house was now mine. First, I packed a few things, everyone has a few favorite items that you always want along. Next, I phoned Mark. I had met Mark at a Christmas party my Mom threw last December for some of the people she worked with. I had pretty much stayed out of the way and was down in the basement playing Nintendo when he had wandered down. We hit it off right away and he told me he was a makeup artist at the studio. I ask him if he just did regular stage makeup or if he did FX type work. Mark smiled and said that he did both, but was more interested in the FX work than just smearing pancake on over priced meat. After playing a couple of games, Mark asked if I had a steady girlfriend and I had to admit I didn't. He put the TETRIS cartridge in the game and we went at it. We split the first two games and I suggested that were go for three out of five. Mark said sure. He then asked how tall I was. I asked him why he wanted to know. He said something about not getting all defensive. He smiled and said that he was only 5'7" and it just seemed that we were about the same height. I grinned and said I was sorry, but I got a lot of shit about my height, and yes we were about the same height. If I'd have told the truth, I'd have to tell him I was only 5'6". I won the next game, but just barley. Mark suggested a break and went upstairs and brought down some chips, dip and four diet cokes. While we drank the cokes, Mark asked me if I was a swimmer or a runner. I asked why did he think I was a swimmer. He replied that I was slim and not heavily muscled. I told Mark that, I just seemed lately to be losing weight, but I'd been to a Doctor and I checked out fine.

Mark won the next game and we got ready for the deciding game. Just before we started, Mark suggested a bet, if he won, tomorrow we'd do whatever he wanted, no matter what. If I won, tomorrow we'd do anything I wanted, no matter what. I said sure, that sounds good to me. I lost.

Early the next morning, Mom left to go to a planning conference in New York city and wouldn't be back till late the next day. Monica came knocked on my door about 9:30. She was dressed in one of her white pant suit style uniforms, white flat nursing shoes and her long brown hair was done up in a tight bun. As always, when she was going to work, Monica wore almost no makeup and had just a coat of clear polish on her short nails. She told me that there was an emergency at work and she had to go out to Ridgecrest and wouldn't be back till after midnight tomorrow. I rolled back over in bed and shut my eyes as I heard Monica's Porche pull out of the garage and down the drive. About ten minuets later I heard another car pull up. I'd forgotten all about the bet with Mark. I jumped up and pulled on some sweats as the doorbell rang. Trying pull the sweat shirt over my head, I dashed down the hall to the front door. Monica stood there, still in one of her nurses uniforms, but dressed for a completely different effect. Her luxuriant, long, brown hair was fixed exactly like Kristi Allie wears hers on 'CHEERS'. Her face was exotically made up with heavy blue eyeliner, lots of pale blue eyeshadow, long, lush false eyelashes covered in navy blue mascara, bright pink lipstick, blush that made her cheekbones high and sexy. The mini-skirt her tightly cut white cotton uniform barely covered her shapely white nyloned thighs. My eyes slowly ran down her superb, sumptuous, round, body, her rock hard nipples clearly visible through the stiffly starched material. Her accessories went perfectly with her uniform, hair and make up. A white, dainty white leather watch graced her slender wrist, her inch and a half long nails were a wet, glossy hot pink. Her name tag, read 'MONICA - HEAD NURSE'. Her white plastic stethoscope hung down between the cleavage of her voluptuous 38DD breasts, huge globes of firm female flesh that threatened to escape from the cups of the white satin bra who's pale pink lace trim was clearly visible. Her starched white nurses cap was pinned on the back of her head at a seductive angle. She stood on the front porch, swaying slightly in the her white pumps with sexy four inch spiked heels, her brown eyes sparkling, and a pretty, pouting smile on her lovely face. I stood there, unable to stop staring at the wet dream come to life standing in front of me. "Well aren't you going to invite me in Richard." The face and body were Monica, but the voice was Mark's. I couldn't believe my eyes and ears. It couldn't be. I look harder at the vision of female beauty standing in front of me. The resemblance was uncanny. "Richard, it's cold out here and while I hope you like what you see, if you don't let me inside I'm going to freeze. Or is it that you want me to sound more like I look?" Marks voice suddenly rose to a beautiful, soft, sexy contralto. "Please Richard, can I come in?"

I stepped aside and mumbled. "Sure, come on in. God Mark, what are you doing dressed up like that? Are those Monica's things? If she finds out you got them, she'll throw a shit fit."

Mark stepped inside the entry and shut the door behind himself. "What's the matter Rick, don't you like what you see?" Mark asked, his voice an excellent imitation of Monica's. "I tried my best to look as good for you as I could" He pouted, "I thought you'd enjoy seeing me dressed in this outfit." Doing a slow turn and posing like a sexy girl, Mark continued. "Last night I went thur Monica's closet and picked out the sexiest nurse's outfit I could, every stitch I have on is Monica's, her panties, her hose, her heels, her lingerie, her uniform, her jewelry, her makeup, her perfume, everything. Do you think I look good dressed just like Monica, made up just like Monica?" "You look beautiful Mark." I stammered. "Rick, do I look like Monica?" "Yes, I guess so?" "And do I sound like Monica?" "Uh Huh, I suppose so." "Then Rick, why don't you call me Monica, I'd like that very much." "I guess so, uh Monica?" "Yes Rick" "Just what do you want to do now?" I asked hoping that he hadn't noticed the growing erection in my sweats. Mark, well I guess I should think of him as Monica, stepped up close to me. Slowly, with a sexy pout, his, well her, soft hands gently traced the outline of my now rock hard cock with her long, perfectly polished nails. "I think you love what you see, and I think you want me to make that sweet, hard cock of yours feel good. Would you like me to suck your cock Rick?" As she spoke my Monica slowly began to gently massage my now straining hardon. The sweet smell of Monica's perfume made me a little dizzy, as she bent down and gently kissed me, the creamy taste of her lipstick making my heart pound. As we kissed, I felt her tongue gently push at my teeth, and then suddenly, my tongue was in her mouth and hers in mine. I couldn't believe what I was doing, I was french kissing another guy, another guy who was stroking my rock hard penis thur my sweat pants. It felt wonderful. Then Monica pulled away. "Promise me you'll do what I want after I make you feel good Rick. Will you?" Her beautiful brown eyes stared into mine. "What ever you want Monica." Then as her had snaked into my sweats and gently took my cock in her silky smooth hand. "Oh god that feels so nice!" I moaned. She began to french my ear, the after a few seconds, she whispered. "I want to dress you up, I want you to wear your mothers clothes and let me make you up to look like her, would you like to do that with me? How would you like to be Christina for me while I'm Monica for you?" I couldn't believe what I heard myself answer. "I'd love that Monica, but there is no way that I can get away with looking like Mom, I mean, I'm a 16 year old boy and she's a 34 year old woman." Rick, you have to trust me, would you have believed me last night if I told you that I could wear Monica's clothes, have Monica's face, have a body that perfectly fills out Monica's sexy uniform? Would you have believed I could be Monica for you. We can have fun, I can give you more pleasure then you can imagine." As she spoke in the tenderest of whispers, her tender assault on my cock had increased, Do you want me to suck you now or do you want to wait until your my lesbian lover? Well darling?" "Please Monica, my cocks so full of cum my balls hurt, please make me feel better." We kissed again as she carefully used her free hand to pull my sweat pants down, the right there in the entry, she gracefully sank to her nyloned knees and holding my cock gently, her long, wet, pink tongue flicked out to lick the head of my tool. I couldn't believe the waves of pleasure that washed over me as she licked and kissed my cock. Then slowly her mouth engulfed my cock while her right hand softly squeezed the base of my shaft and her left lightly massaged my now aching balls. Unable to look away, I watched her head as she slowly pistoned her satiny pink lips up and down my shaft. I felt her long brown hair brush my naked thigh with each forward thrust of her head and could hear the wet sucking sound of her lips as they slid up and down my lipstick smeared tool. Her fingers slowly increased their pressure on the base of my prick while the other had milked and rubbed with increasing vigor my taunt distended balls. The sensation of her warm, wet mouth caused me to moan with pleasure as she continued her expert oral rapture of my engorged manhood. Every time when I believed that I could stand it no longer and my cock would attempt to shoot it's milky load into the wonderful waiting warmth of Monica mouth, she would expertly squeeze the base of my shaft and deny me the pleasure I was now begging her for. I promised to let her dress me up however she wanted, wear anything she said, act however pleased her, say whatever she wanted me to say, only, I begged her to please allow me to cum.

Just when I believed I couldn't stand it any longer, Monica took me deep in her mouth and skillfully brought me to a shattering climax. It felt as if my balls were literally exploding there load of cum into her waiting mouth. As I came, she redoubled her efforts, both with her mouth and hands. It seemed as if I would never stop, the jets of cum keep squirting into her mouth, as I whimpered with pleasure. Finally I was totally spent, my balls so empty that they ached with the pleasure they had given up. Monica (I found that I really wanted to think of Mark as Monica) gracefully stood, and took my head between her hands and guided my lips to hers. Her mouth was still full of my salty, milky white cum, cum that her tongue began to transfer to my waiting mouth. Half of my mind wanted to push her away, but that was the weaker half. The stronger urge was to melt into this beautiful shemales arms and to share my milky treasure, to greedily lap with my tongue at the seed that I had spilled into her insatiable mouth. After a long, wet, cum sharing kiss, Monica slowly broke her sperm covered lips away from mime. "Well" She cooed. "Did you enjoy that, I did. You have a wonderful cock, I love feeling is silky head in my mouth. I hope you'll let me enjoy it again after I get you dressed up. Your going to make a wonderful, beautiful woman Rick. Trust me." As she spoke, she lead me into my mothers huge, opulent bedroom. Mom's bedroom looked like something right off the pages of a Barbara Cartland novel, all pastel satin, lace, and velvet. Her room was dominated by a huge canopied bed, covered in pink satin pillows and lavish with white lace shams.

Over the next two hours Monica prepared the form (as she put it). It started with a long soak in scented bubble bath while Monica brought her equipment in from Mark's car. Pulling on clear, ultra thin latex gloves, Monica gently smoothed softly scented delapadory cream over my entire body. As soon as the pink cream was showered off(and my body hair along with it), Monica carefully shaved what little stubble remained. It felt funny to have a totally denuded body. And I meant totally, Monica had even gotten rid of my pubic hair. Monica sat me down at my Mothers makeup table (which resembled the makeup department at Liberty House) and carefully tweezed my brows into high, arching line. I tried to object to having my brow made so feminine, but she showed me how to use some fake one to hide the alteration. Try as I could, I couldn't tell the difference with the fake ones on. Next, Monica waxed the brow lines, my upper lip, cheeks, and chin (I've always had very light, fine facial hair). After Monica finished removing little there was, she fitted a flesh toned latex skull cap over my short brown hair. She cemented the cap down with spirit gum and blended the seam away with pancake makeup. Looking back at me from the mirror was a androgenous stranger, bald, with woman's eyebrows and a completely hairless body. Then my transformation began. First I was given breasts. A form fitting flesh toned latex torso was glued in place. As she blended away the seams Monica explained. "With this on sweetheart, no one would ever guess that these mounds weren't real girl flesh. Once the latex warms up the look and feel is indistinguishable from skin. You can even sweat thur this compound. Your going to be so pretty, now let me work out this tiny wrinkle. There! You have the same bust size as Christina, in fact now that you have Christina's breasts, I'll just call you Christina from now on. Would you like that lover?" Shyly I answered. "I guess so Monica." "OK Christina." She purred. The person in the mirror now featured a full, womanly set of 40DD breasts, completes with dark brown areolae's and stiffly erect inch long nipples. Once Monica finished her make up magic, all trace of the false latex skin disappeared and my upper torso was now for all intents a beautiful, voluptuous, woman's. Monica told me to spread my legs wide and sit still while she gave me a 'honey hole'. I watched in disbelief as she worked my now limp cock into an ultra thin latex sleeve, not unlike a condom, except this on had a thin tube coming out the end. The latex was lubricated with some type of cream, both very slippery and very cold. I started to object as my cock seemed to shrivel up and almost disappear, but a stern word from Monica to 'Just be quite Christina' shut me up. Once both my now tiny cock and balls were completely engulfed, Monica brought out a molded latex vagina, complete with a neatly trimmed bush of honey blond pubic hair and a hint of a clit just barely showing it's nub from between the moist looking cunt lips. Monica went to work, placing my cock inside the absolutely lifelike prosthesis. After liberally coating the underside with a clear jell adhesive of some sort, she placed the rubber form tightly against my crotch and held it firmly in place for about sixty seconds. Smiling happily Monica cooed. "Don't move Christina darling, I have to get something." In just seconds she was back with a hand held hair dryer, which was quickly plugged in, turned on and directed at my now completely female crotch. Entranced, I watched as the flesh toned latex, softened and shrank, molding itself tightly to me. When Monica finally shut off the dryer, no trace of a seam remained. I looked down between my legs, shocked, I now had a pussy! Carefully peeling off the latex gloves, Monica smiled. "There Christine, your boy meat is all gone now and instead you've got just the sweetest cunt, and your know how good a cunt can feel." As she spoke, her soft, gentle hands lightly traced my new breasts, down to my waist, then tenderly touched my 'pussy'. As her long nail touched my 'clit' a wave of pleasure shot through me. "MMMMMMMM." I moaned softly. "Oh Monica, Oh yes, don't stop! That feels wonderful." I gasped. "Ask me to play with your pussy, beg me, tell me that you need have your clitty rubbed Christina." Monica's (and he was Monica to me now) had taken on a demanding tone that I hadn't been aware of before. I realized that if I did what Monica was demanding, she would be the one in charge. But, then, that seemed at the time a little thing to give up in return for the pleasure that I was receiving. A truly submissive whimper had crept into my voice as I begged Monica to keep making me feel good. "God yes Monica, please play with my pussy, I love what your doing. I love having you rub my clitty, yes, just like that. Oh Jesus, that feels nice, I love being your girl, your lesbian lover, make me into my mommy, make me Christina just for you. Please, please, don't stop. Yes, please, Yes. YES! Oh God, yes, that's right, yes, make my clitty cum! I love you Monica, I'm yours, all yours, I'll do anything, just finish me, please." Suddenly, Monica stopped. "Please Monica, please don't stop." I sobbed. "That's right Christine, beg me. Now promise me that you will do anything I say. Promise Christine." "I promise Monica, I'll let you do anything to me, with me." "And you'll wear what ever I want you to?" "Yes Monica, you can dress me up anyway you want." "And you'll be whoever I want." "Yes Monica, anybody, just please, do me some more." "I'm your lover, your dearest darling, aren't I?" "Yes Monica." "Then you should talk to me like your lover, from now on, start each sentence with 'Darling', do you understand?" "OK Monica, I mean, Yes darling, I understand." "I like hearing you talk like that Christina, now pet, what's your name?" Darling, my name is Christina." Monica resumed masturbating my clitty- cock and again I was caught up in the tide of pleasure that washed over me. Her finger rubbed the latex sleeved nub of my completely concealed manhood as I withered and moaned on the velvet covered stool. As the bliss built to it's shattering climax I could hear myself screaming "Yes darling, do me, do my clit darling, yes, do me, make me cum darling." Then suddenly I orgasmed with such force that I all but passed out. When I began to my sense's I could feel Monica cleaning up my clitty with a soft, damp towel. I gazed lovingly at the totally female vision in the tight, sexy, white nurses uniform and moaned. "Darling Monica, I love you. I'll be any girl you want me to be. Let me be all the women you want, however you want." Monica kissed me gently, her tongue delicately exploring my docile, waiting mouth then softly breathed. "I'm going to hold you to exactly that my pretty baby doll."

My transformation continued as Monica brought out what seemed to be a wig head made of chrome metal with a number of clear, thin vinyl hoses leading into it. She explained that this was a little invention of hers. The inside of the head now contained a bust of my mother, created my a computer from digitized photographs. The head would be hooked up to Monica's laptop which would the create a matrix. The head was lined with a plastic which would then be molded to exactly the shape of the bust. Once the liner was molded, the chrome head would be placed over my head and a matrix made of my face. Then a process of computer controlled lipo-suction and lipo-injection would begin. Coupled with spray injections that would cause bee sting like swelling and applications of a alum like chemical that would cause tissue to contract, the computer would attempt to create a facial pattern as close to the matrix held in the memory of the plastic liner. Monica assured me that there was no permanent damage and that it was possible to reverse all changes. She did add that the procedure could be a little painful, so she wanted me to take a shot that would let me sleep through the changes. I nodded and watched as she took a hypodermic needle, fitted it to a syringe, expertly filled it from a small vial and injected it into my arm. As I felt a soft, cotton candy softness envelop me, I watched as she lifted the chrome head and moved to put it over my face.

I slowly drifted back to wakefulness and discovered that I was laying in my Mothers huge bed, lightly covered by a pink satin sheet. My eyes closed again as the events of this unbelievable morning replayed themselves. As my sense's returned, I noticed a tightness around my waist that I had never felt before, my eyelids felt heavy and there was a weight on my earlobes that I'd never felt before. Large portions of my face felt slightly numb, as if I'd been to the dentist. Besides the weight of the sheet, I knew I was wearing something soft and silky. With my eyes still shut I rubbed my legs together and was rewarded with the feel of one nyloned leg caressing the other. Across my forehead I could feel the downy caress of feathery bangs. I was afraid to open my eyes, afraid that I would love what I would see.

"Come on sleepy head, rise and shine. It's almost 4 P.M. and if were going to do anything today you need to get up." Monica's voice purred in my ear. Slowly I opened my eyes and Monica was standing next to the bed and offered me her arm as I slowly slid out of the bed onto the deep, white shag carpet. I turned to look at myself in the full length mirror, but it was covered with a sheet. Monica caught my puzzled glance. "I covered it up, I don't want you to see yourself until your dressed all the way. While you were out, I did your makeup, laced you into a black satin and lace waist cinch, matching g- string panties, black sheer seamed hose, black bra, camisole, matching slip and did your hair and nails." I looked down at my hands and gazed in wonder at the cherry red 2 inch long sculpted nails that now graced my fingers. The effect of the ultra feminine nails was to make my fingers look longer, slimmer and very womanly. I could feel the weight of my new thick tresses on my head and wondered how I looked, probably like a teenage boy dressed in girls clothes.

Monica smiled. "Now sweetheart, let's finnish getting yo dressed." Monica walked over to my Mothers huge walking closet and after a minuet or so came out carrying a white ascot necked blouse made of heavy white satin in one hand. I the other hand was a black suede leather suit. "Monica." I blurted out. "I can't wear that, it will never fit and even if it did, if I got anything on it, Mom would kill me!" Monica simply smiled and carefully laid the blouse and suit out on the bed and returned to the closet. When she emerged the second time, she carried a pair of high heeled black suede knee high boots, a black patent leather belt, black suede gloves and a black patent leather Gucci clutch with a fine gold chain strap. Again I tried to object. "Come on Monica, Mom is going to know someone has been in her things. Besides, I can't wear Mom's shoes, they'll never fit and I've never worn high heels." Monica simply ignored my protests and began to go through Mom's jewelry box, In short order a onyx and gold broach, gold lady rolex, onyx tennis bracelet and matching friendship ring joined the growing pile on the bed.

"Monica, please, those are Mom's things and.." I began to whine. "Shut up!" Monica snapped, her voice suddenly demanding and totally in control. "These are your things, aren't they Christina my sweet?" Taken completely aback, I blurted back "Monica, nobody is going to believe I'm my mother." Monica stepped over to me and in a stern and somewhat forbidding voice said to me. "Richard, this is the last time I shall warn you. I am becoming quite tired of your whining, self pity, and uncooperative attitude. Now listen to me, from this second on, you will answer only to your mothers name, you will dress in whatever I tell you without a word on complaint. Any identity that I tell you to assume, you will. And further more you will attempt it to the very best of your ability. By that I mean that you will mimic her voice, mannerisms, personality, everything. Now do you understand me?" "I guess so", I mumbled. The open handed slap caught me completely by surprise. It stung my right cheek far more then it really hurt. "Shut up, I don't want to hear another word out of you. Monica roughly grabbed my arm and jerked me to my feet. Without another word she wrenched my right arm behind my back and a second later I heard a metallic 'click' then my left arm was forced behind my back and a second click. With a start I realized that my hand were now hand cuffed behind me. "Monica, please, I'm sorry, I'll...." Her second slap was directed at my left cheek. "I told you to shut up." I'm sick of your constant whining. I was then shoved over to my mother's dressing table, the mirror covered with one of mom's black satin sheets and forced to sit. Monica quickly tied my nyloned legs tightly to the red velvet french provincial stools ornate legs then tied my cuffed hands to the back of the stool. I was completely helpless now, unable to stand. "There, that should keep you from wandering around while I run out to the car. Now don't struggle or your run your silky sheer hose dear and then I would really be unhappy with you sweetest."

I sat there, helpless and bound, silent, afraid and excited, dressed in my mother's beautiful black lingerie. I could feel the silky caress of her slip whose slit showed off my sheer nyloned leg and thighs, her lavish, silky camisole the concealed her breathtakingly tight waist cinch and her DD cup bra.

What's Monica/Mark up to? What will happen to our hero? Write with your fantasy outfits for 'Monica' and 'Jessica' and I'll try to work them into the story.

TO BE CONTINUED ( of course ) ****************************** This file came from Sierra Connection BBS Serving the Gender Community from Nevada 702-825-4220 8-N-1 28.8 VF (4 Nodes)

Home of the Fiction Story Writing Contest Home of the Gif Beauty Contest RIKKI2.TXT

TRADING PLACES - Part 2

By Ms. Desiree Foster

Welcome back and special hugs to those who wrote. As we rejoin Richard / Rikki in his / her only slightly unwilling road to she-male hood, I still hope to hear from any readers with fantasy outfits or situations that you would like to see Rikki in.

As I heard Monica's, well really Mark's, high heels click down the hall, I began to appreciate just how helpless I was. Suddenly thoughts of Jeffery Damler and Hannibal Lector began to race thur my mind. I tried to stand up and couldn't, tried to lift my cuffed hand up over the top of the stool back, no luck. Real panic set in. I tried to stand again and this time fell over. I lay on the plush pink shag carpet struggling against the cuffs as tears began to course down my made up cheeks. Suddenly a pair of white spiked heels appeared in front of my face. I felt Monica's hands under my arms and the chair was pushed upright. Monica knelt between my bound thighs and suddenly my face was in soft, gentle hands and her soft and her wet, pink lips were softly pressed against mine. After a wonderful, long tender kiss, Monica pull back and still holding my head in her hands began to kiss my tears away. Between her kisses Monica explained; "Poor baby, your a mess, you've mussed your hair and ruined your makeup. Now lover, I want you to calm down.... there, that's better. That's my beautiful girl. See baby, everything alright. I'd never really hurt you darling, sometimes being helpless is a real turn on. What we're doing is called bondage and if you try, it can be very exciting. Your very beautiful sitting here all tied up, so sweet and helpless. I want you to feel sexy and very feminine, just like a desirable, gorgeous, submissive woman. We can be each other's lesbian lover, but we have to trust each other. Today, because your so new to this, I'm going to dominate you, be the one in charge. Another day, if you want, I'll be your slut slave and we can make each other feel very, very good. Now, I can understand that things have gone very fast for you, but I want you to enjoy all that's happening to you. I promise that I'll never really hurt you, do you believe me darling?" Monica sealed her promise with a wonderfully long, loving, kiss. "As she broke her lips away from mine I sighed; "Yes Monica I believe you, I've never felt like this and I guess I'm scared at what happening. I never thought dressing like a woman could be such a turn on and I sure never thought that my first real girl friend would be such a special girl, one with a wonderful cock." Then calling on a skill that I had developed over five years of making 'Mother's' calls to my school, I raised my voice a octave and looking straight into my beautiful she-male lover's eyes and softly asked: " Now Monica untie me please and fix my makeup, straighten my hair and help me get dressed, we have lot's to do today." Monica's face lit up in an angelic smile as she purred; "Chri- stina!?" "Yes darling, I'm Christina just like you want. I know what a bitch I can be when I'm upset and I'm sorry. I'd love having you be in charge today. If I have heard you tell me once, I've heard it a hundred times. 'Christina your a real power bitch and you love being in charge.' But I don't really, today you be the way I everyone thinks that I am. I'm going to be the way I always have dreamt of being. Now isn't that the way you want me to be, just like Christina on the outside and just like you secret slave slut on the inside?" Inside of a minuet, I was free and in ten my makeup was repaired and my hair returned to a perfectly coiffed state.

I stood up and straightened my slip and camisole and walked over to the bed where the outfit Monica had laid out was neatly piled. I picked up the white, heavy satin blouse, slid my arms into the silky sleeves, and letting myself go totally, turned to Monica and smiled; "Please darling help me button up this." As I let Monica button the back of the blouse I buttoned, or rather tried to fasten the six tiny pearl buttons at each cuff. I found it impossible with the long 'fuck me' red nails that now graced my fingers. Monica gently but firmly spanked my fingers; "Now Christina, let me help, your such a helpless thing." As Monica carefully fasted the delicate pearl buttons to the finely tailored blouse, I found myself enjoying the attention. Once she finished with the buttons, Monica carefully tied the high, tight, ascot neck to Mother's blouse and fastened Mother's onyx broach at my neck. "There, that will help hide you adam's apple, for now. Lift your right foot sweetheart, good....Now the right, there. Let's get your blouse tucked in....There." I felt and heard Monica close the zipper to Mother's, no Christina's, my, calf length black suede, tightly tapered, skirt. Monica soft voice whispered in my ear; "You look yummy darling, sit down and let's put your boots on. No dear, that not how you sit down. Stand up and try again, smooth your skirt under you and remember to sit like a lady, that's better but do it again." I stood and reseated myself again and again while Monica polished my movements and explained just what to do. I tried to remember just how Mother, Monica and Jessica moved, sat, what they did with there hands, how they sat, everything. My Monica was lavish with her praise; "Your turning into a wonderful and beautiful woman darling. I think that were ready to get your boots on you and see how you do in heels." Monica unzipped the black suede leather boot with there sexy, gleaming four inch metallic gold pencil thin spiked heels and the pulled them carefully on. I couldn't believe it, the boots fit perfectly. Monica zipped the boots and helped me stand. After about ten minuets of wobbling around I finally began to get the hang of walking gracefully in the towering heels and after a half hour of walking and posing for Monica, she pronounced me ready. "Baby, you have a real talent for this Christina honey. Looking at you standing there, no one will ever guess your little secret. Tell me Christina, how do you feel?" I looked down at my hands, the sight of my long red nails against the black suede leather of my skirt, the sight of my sexy, high heeled boots, the white satin of my blouse, the hidden tightness of the black satin waist cinch coupled with the restrictive tightness of my skirt all combined to excite me beyond my wildest imagination. I gave my head a little shake and felt the silky hair of my long auburn tresses brush against my neck. I could taste the creamy red lipstick that made my lips so kissable feminine, feel the weight of the false eyelashes and the mask like effect of my makeup. Suddenly, more then anything I want to see how I looked as a woman, I loved the idea that instead of a unassuming nothing of a teenage boy that the person that looked back at from a mirror would be a desirable, sexy, woman dressed the way a woman should dress, seductive, aristocratic, stunning. The kind of woman that other women envied and men desired. Stepping close to my she-male lover I melted into her arms and softly whispered; "How do I really feel darling? I feel lovely and loved. I want to finnish getting dressed, everything. I want you to feel towards me the way I feel towards you." Dropping my eyes from Monica's and my voice down to a whisper, I continued; "I want you to make my clitty cock feel good and I want to make your clitty cock feel just as good. And darling, if I'm a bad girl, I want you to tie me up just as tight as you want to, if I say bad things you could even gag me." Monica smiled and answered; "I'm going to hold you to that, but first sweetheart, I want you to become totally comfortable with the changes that your going through. But before I introduce you to bondage games that big girls play, I think you should finish getting dressed. Turning, she picked up the black suede jacket and held it for me while I slipped into it. As I fastened the jackets bottom button I marveled at how perfect the fit was. This was all a dream come true. Looking at my long, perfect shaped, ultra feminine nails, the wet looking cherry red polish that screamed sex, I truly felt a mental gear shift. I loved the look of those long, shining, red nails on my hands. I loved the restrictive feel of the suits tight skirt and the sway of my hips the spiked heels caused. I tried to form a perfect picture in my mind of how mother walked, her mannerisms, the way she held her self, her total persona. Without a word, I walked over to the bed and picked up the long, dangling gold and onyx earrings and carefully put them on. I let the Richard part of my mind breath a sigh of relief that he had gotten his ears pierced a year ago. The weight of the glittering cascades that hung from my earlobe was both slightly painful and impossibly erotic. The matching tennis bracelet was next followed by the ring. I picked up the rolex with it's black lizard strap and carefully put it on my left wrist, mincing the gestures that I had seem mother make a thousand times. I picked up my purse and gloves and turned to face Monica. "Well Monica, how do I look? Do I pass inspection?" As I spoke, I gave my head a little shake, mother's always doing that and was rewarded by the sight of the sight of my golden red tresses. Since I was trying so hard to remember exactly how mother talked, walked, acted and looked I felt a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Mom's hair was a golden blond.

"Monica!" I blurted out; "Mom's blond, not a red head." Monica just laughed; "You silly thing, I was wondering how long it would take you to notice." As she spoke, Monica pulled away the sheet that covered the full length mirror. The person whose beautiful reflection stared back at me literally took my breath away. From her perfectly done mane of golden auburn hair, her green eyes sparkled from under long, lush lashes, her face was perfectly made up, her black suede leather suit showed off her full, splendid female body to perfection. She had firm, full breasts, a small flat waist, and a great ass, a body that screamed sex. Her long shapely legs were shown off by the second skin of black suede leather boots whose four inch heels rein- forced the image of a dominate, completely female on the prowl for cock. The woman in the mirror, almost of her own volition let a hand with her long, slick, wet red nails trace her flat waist and slowly rose to her 38DD breasts, breasts that seem even larger due to the small waist. I both loved and lusted for the woman whose reflection I smiled seductively at. Yes, she was a perfect study in sex appeal, but ever since she was 14 Jessica Marie DeChombonard has worked at conveying exactly that impres- sion, and it was her, my sister, in whose image I was created. I was her beautiful twin. Monica moved over next to me. "Well darling, are you pleased?"; she breathed. Unable to tear my eyes away from the woman that I somehow had become, I answered; "You said you were going to dress me up like Mommy?" "Darling, I wanted to see if you could, would, give yourself up to a fantasy role. If you were willing to play at Christina unseen, I think that you'll love the new you. I know that I do. Your really very beautiful Jessica." Still letting my right hand explore my wonderful new shape, I sighed softly in reply; "I guess so, I don't know. I'd just got used to the idea of playing at preten- ding to be Mommy, now you want me to look and act like Jessica. That's what you want, isn't it?"

When I had asked the question, I'd had no idea just how far Monica intended to take this game. The rest of the day and late into the evening passed in a haze. Monica coached me on how top walk, how to talk, what to say. How to sit, how to stand. How to fix my makeup, how to straighten my hair. Everything about Jessica, how to let a man light my cigarette (Virginia slim light 120's). About 9 P.M. the phone rang and if Monica hadn't warned me, I'd have answered in my new 'Jessica voice'. It was the real Monica. It was a totally surreal experience, talking to the 'real' Monica while 'my' Monica sat across from me. The upshot was that Monica wouldn't be home until 9 A.M. tomorrow. My Monica to the extra time to continue what she now referred to as my 'charm school' lesson. About midnight, Monica took me into Mommy's bedroom and had me carefully remove and hang up the suede suit, the satin blouse and put away the purse, gloves, boots half slip, camisole and jewelry. I was left standing there in my waist cinch, hose, panties and bra. Monica went into the closet and returned with a pair of black patent 5 inch spiked heel pumps and a black negligee. Now the woman in the mirror was a vision in sheer black lace and black satin. From a power bitch dressed for success to a beautiful, vulnerable woman dressed for seduc- tion. Leaving me standing there, Monica disappeared for ten minuets. When she returned, the nurse was gone, totally. Monica now wore a pink satin and lace garter belt, matching panties pink lace hose and pink satin mule with soaring spiked heels. Her hair was done up with a pink satin ribbon and in her hands she carried a tray with a open bottle of champagne and two crystal flutes. Sitting the tray down on the bedside table, Monica sat down on the bed and patted the satin comforter next to her. "Come and set beside me Darling." Monica's voice had a seductive tone that drew me to the bed, my knees weak and my pulse pounding. Gracefully she poured two glasses of the sparkling wine and handed me one. Carefully taking it, I sipped at the ice cold champagne greedily while Monica told me how well I had done today and that she knew from the second we met that she and I would be more then friends. Magically my glass refilled and Monica shifted to how lovely I was and how for so long she had hope that I might feel for her what she felt for me. Then, my glass was empty the full, then empty and I was in Monica's arms, my lips hard against hers, our tongues exploring each others hungry mouths. Gently Monica guided my hand to her silky panties and then I could feel her excitement. Slowly Monica freed herself from the confines of her panties and I for the first time in my life I found myself softly stroking someone else's rock hard cock, a beautiful woman's wonderful satin smooth penis. Taking the empty glass from my other hand, Monica placed them carefully on the table and moved further back on the bed and lay back drawing me with her. "That so nice baby." Monica moaned over and over. Then her hand were on my head and slowly, gently she began to force my head down towards her waiting cock. Weakly I tried to resist the gentle but constant pressure the slowly brought my bright red lip closer and closer to Monica's huge tool, already wet with pre-cum. "Monica please, I don't want to suck you, I've never done this. I'm not a sissy." I begged. Monica's strong hands kept up there relentless pressure and I slowly slid down over her silky smooth torso. "Yes baby, do me, you. Make me feel good. Monica need her cock sucked by her new girlfriend. Come on Jessica, your my cocksucking pretty bitch from now on. Your going to do what ever I tell you and right now Monica says 'suck cock Jessica.' Now open those pretty red lips and do me, open wide for Monica's nice hard cock and suck my sweet cum, come on Jessica, my beautiful she-male darling." Then, there it was, a stiff, hard cock right in front of my face. A cock free of hair, wet with pre-cum, waiting. "Please Monica!" I pleaded; "Don't make me do this. I'm not a cocksucker, I'm a good girl!" Monica's voice snapped like a slap; "No Jessica, your not a good girl, your a slut, my slut. Now bitch, suck Monica's cock and pretty bitch Jessica had better suck it right." Almost of their on volition my lips parted and rounded into the 'O' shape of a whore getting ready for a big, hard penis. Firmly, but gently, Monica forced my head down to her waiting tool. Then her cock was against my lips, the salty taste of her milky pre-cum mixing with the taste of the champagne, exciting me. I snaked my hand under too gently cup her silky smooth scrotal sack. The feel of Monica's balls in my hand excited me even further. My tongue shot out and like a sweet vanilla ice cream cone, I began to lick my she-male lovers raging hard on. As I licked, I gently began to squeeze Monica's ball's. My efforts were reward by a deep moan from my lover; "Oh yes Jessica, that right, that my darling pretty bitch." Her moan's excited me further, and suddenly I loved the feel of her satin cock, then surrendering totally to my new role, I slid my lips down over the head of Monica's beautiful hard-on. Toungeing her inside my mouth brought a sigh of pleasure from my darling, then I began to slid my lips up and down her shaft, trying to take as much of her wondrous she-male meat into my mouth as I could. Monica's hips began to move in rhythm with mine. Her cock oozed a copious amount of salty pre- cum which mixed with my saliva made her shaft slick and wet. Then on an upstroke I saw my reflection in the mirror. I saw a titan haired fox dressed in sexy, tight black lingerie, black patent high spiked heels and dusky sheer hose with her loves lipstick smeared cock between her lips. The fact that her lover was a beautiful she-male made the picture even more exciting. The beautiful slut in the mirror was the perfect picture of a cock sucking whore, dressed to thrill and having her mouth pussy used to please her lover, her Mistress, her Goddess. unable to tear my eyes away from this erotic picture, I watch as the slut in the waist crushing black corset head moved ever faster, as more and more of her darling's cock slid into her mouth and down her throat with every stroke. Monica was now screaming "Suck me Jessica, suck me bitch!" over and over, her hips wildly bucking, her hands pressing hard to force her man-meat into my hungry mouth. The her entire body convulsed and I felt her balls literately jump in my gently squeezing hand as my darlings wonderful cum flooded my now desperate mouth. I swallowed her warm, salty seed as if it was the finest of wine, the thick white flooded my hungry mouth. I could feel some escaping my wanting lips. The slut in the mirror was lapping at her lovers cum like a bitch in heat. And that is what I was, a bitch whose only thought was cum, cock and pleasure. Monica's pluseing cock finally stop shooting it wonderful jets of thick, rich cum and her hands relaxed. "That was wonderful darling"; Monica whispered. "Now lick me clean, lick up every last drop of cum, oh that right, god that feels so nice, lick my cock till it's nice and clean. That's a good bitch, that's my wonderful slut. " Then her cock was clean and Monica pulled me up to her and took me in her arms, my lips gently pressed to hers, her tongue cleaning my lips and face of her seed. Then, laying on my mothers huge bed, dressed in my mothers sexy, tight corset, her spiked heels on my feet, Mom's silky sheer hose on my legs, I fell asleep in my lovers arms.

"Wake up sleepy head unless you want to explain to Monica what your doing in your Mother's clothes." My Monica was gone, in her place Mark stood, smiling at me. My embarrassment faded in the rush to get the house and my self back to the way it had been. Once back in my male self, I found that Mark was friendly to me, but showed no visible sexual interest in me. I didn't know if I was hurt or relived. Still by eight both myself and the house were back in shape, the myself end helped by Mark's makeup wizardry. It was almost nine when Mark walked over to the door and handed me a card with his home phone number on it. "Richard if you want to play again, call me. If you don't, well I understand. I just want you to know that I loved everything we did yesterday and I hope you'll call. If I'm not home leave a message, Just say 'This is Rikki and I want you to do a make over' and I'll know that you want continue with what we started. Bye, just for now I hope. Handing me a package wrapped in tape he turned and went out the door. Then he was gone.

About half an hour later I first heard Monica's Porsch and then the sound of the key in lock. Plopping down on the bed, I grabbed a book and tried to act startled as Monica knocked and then entered my bedroom. "Well Richard, the house look fine, I think that your getting mature enough for your Mother not to worry about you being alone. I'll make sure to tell her. She should be back today. Now, I'm beat. Be a dear and wake me at 3 this afternoon, will you?" "Sure Aunt Monica." I searched desperately for a sign that she suspected that anything was wrong. As soon as I heard Monica's bedroom door shut, I started to drop both Mark's card and package in the trash. I felt slightly used and certainly didn't think that I'd ever take him up on turning me into a girl again. But, I finally put his package into the bottom of my clothes hamper and dropped his card into my junk drawer.

Mom came in that evening and everything fell back more or less into routine. I stayed out of Mom and Monica's way pretty much. No sense in exposing myself to too much scrutiny until my body hair grew back. Mom was pleased with Monica's report on how I'd handled my 24 hours alone and decided that Richard didn't need to be baby sat any more. Mark's card was stuck deep in my 'junk drawer' and the entire episode seemed to fade into a half dream. The tape wrapped package in my hamper however went from the back of my mind to the front, what was in it? Maybe I should open it before Mom or Monica found it? What if Mark had taken pictures of me and they were in there?. Still, for the first week the package sat untouched.

The only change in the routine of the household during this entire affair was that Monica rented a small furnished room near the hospital and announced that she would stay there during her 4 days on and be home for her 4 days off. The same day this happened I finally gave in to my curiosity and opened the pack- age. Inside were four cassette tapes titled 'MAIDEN SONGS' 1 thur 4 and a large bottle of pills and a tube of cream. The pills were labeled 'Muscle Relaxers' and the cream was labeled 'For Soreness'. That night I put Maiden Songs 1 in my Walkman and thought that I'd at least check it out. The music was real laid back, kind of a Kenny G. type thing and so relaxing that I fell asleep with it playing. The next morning I woke to a pair of dead batteries in the old Walkman and a backache that wouldn't quit. I tried two of the pills and within minuets the backache was history. School wasn't to start for another week and I only have three classes, all simple minded state requirements so I wasn't worried about studying during Christmas break. That night I found I couldn't sleep, so I popped the first 'Maiden Song' tape in again and boom, I was out like a light. As school started again I found that I was taking those muscle relaxers four times a day and rubbing the cream on my face and arms morning and night. I found my chest was sore allot and I spent more and more time fantasizing about the day with Mark, fantasies that I tried to suppress.

The third weekend after schools restarted and just in time for the MLK holiday and about a month after Monica had rented the room, Mom called me into her room. When I entered, Mom was sitting at her vanity doing her makeup, she was dressed in a pink satin short wrap that showed her white nyloned leg clear up to her garter top. "Baby"; Mom began; "I have to go to New York for three days and Monica still has three days to go till her weekend. While Monica thinks your big enough to stay by your- self, I'm still worried. But if you say you'll be fine, I'll give you this chance." Well darling?" As I watched Mom putting her deep red lipstick on, I answered. "I'll be fine Mom, really, if there an emergency, I'll call Aunt Monica, honest." Mother put down her lipstick and bent over to put on her red patent pumps. As she did so, her wrap split open to reveal her taunt red garter straps and the tie side of her matching panties. Unwilling I felt my cock growing hard as she sat up and put her red enameled earrings on. Looking in the mirror, not at me, Mom continued; "If your really sure, then I guess that three days isn't long enough for you to tear the house up too much." Pausing to pat her face with pressed powder, she added "But no parties and no more then two people in at a time. Hand me my purse, the red one on the bed." I reached over and picked it up then took it to her. As I got close the scent of the perfume made my head spin. "If there is a real emergency call your sister, she can be here allot quicker then Monica. Her beeper number is on the Roledex in my office. Now dear here is $100.00, that should be enough to keep you in pizza for three days. Now shoo so I can finish getting dressed. I wandered out to the living room and turned on the TV. Not twenty minuets Mom walked in. She was wearing a red wool Channel suit with a white silk shawl collared blouse, white hose and of course red spiked heel pumps. Over her shoulder hung a kicky matching red purse and folded over her arm was a matching red swing coat. In her hand was a pair of red leather bracelet length gloves. "Well Darling, do I pass inspection?" As I rolled over and smiled back, the thought 'I'd look better in it' popped totally unbidden into my mind. "You look great Mom, I got up and Mom turned her cheek to me; "Kissy dear." I gave her a kiss, careful not to muss her makeup. She handed a twenty and said "Why don't you try to catch a movie while I'm gone dear, I'll call you tonight at 9 P.M. Be good." With that she was gone. I sat on the couch and tried to watch TV, then when that didn't work went out in the back yard. I turned the Hot tub on and thought that I'd let it heat up and take a soak, but visions of my mother kept jumping into my head, visions of her clothes, her jewelry, her sexy undies, her shoes, visions of all those things on me. I went back inside and wandered around, looked at some more TV, got up after about five minuets and went into my room. Almost with out thinking, Mark's card was in my hand and I found my self dialing. After Mark's recorder came on I heard someone say in a sexy woman's voice; "Hi baby, this is Rikki and I need a make over, I have three days to myself and I can't wait. Bye Bye." Trying to resist the feelings that overwhelmed me without even the slightest success, I went into Mom's bath and turned the shower on and picking up her Nair and her razor proceeded to get rid of the stubble where my sparse body hair was just beginning to grow back. Twenty short minuets late found me completely hairless from the neck down as I toweled dry with one of Mom's huge terry soft pink bath towels. Next, I found myself at Mom's vanity, my brows tweezed to pencil thin arches and a pair of Mom's diamond studs in my ears. Completely on auto-pilot now slipped into one of my Mom's swimsuits, one piece, but very sexy. Frowning slightly at my almost flat chest and the most unladylike bulge in my crotch I smoothed a cucumber mask over my now hairless face. Five minuets later found me relaxing in the hot tub, a glass of white wine in my hand. As I slowly sipped the delightful cold wine, I felt the weeks of tension flow out of me. I'd made my choice and now felt far more like Rikki then Richard. I wondered what Mark had planned for me this time.

Whatever (as if we didn't know) are these 'Maiden Song' Tapes and why (as if, again, we didn't know) is Richard's chest sore. What changes are in store for our evolving hero(ine). Will he spend this long weekend as 'Jessica' or does Mark have other plans for 'Rikki'.

P.S. I still believe that I am the only CD'ing D&D player in Atlanta, am I?

Hugs, Desiree

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Welcome back to the saga of our slightly unwilling boy to she-male. Thanks to those who wrote with such kind words and we hope that this part is as enjoyable.

TRADING PLACES - Part 3

By Ms. Desiree Foster

I relaxed in the warm, bubbling water, loving (for a reason totally beyond me) the feel of the cucumber mask as it dried on my now almost hairless face. As I reached for my wine glass on the edge of tub, I caught sight of my hand and fingers. God how bunt and ugly my hands looked without the inch long acrylic fashion nails. I felt myself begin to grow erect under Mom's one piece thong suit and let my free hand slip beneath the hot caressing waters. Freeing my now -hard boy thing, I began to slow stroke and caress myself to an erection. No more hard quick strokes for this girl, not any more. No, soft, teasing touch, gentle pressure, and of course stopping to pay attention to my thighs, all slick, wet, and hairless, my wonderfully sensitive nipples (how could I have missed those marvelous, exciting sources of pleasure) and just let my freshly shaved legs rub each other. I brought my self to the brink, the let my self relax, each approach to relief more demanding, more exquisite then the last. A sip of wine and letting myself explore my body, touching and stroking, then a return to my masturbatory heaven. So lost was I in my auto-erotic loving that the sound of the high heels on the deck behind me caused my heart to go from pleasant ex- citement to a trip hammer trying to break out of my chest. I knocked my glass into the tub in my haste to turn and terrified that it was Mom or worse Monica looked up into the face of a beautiful stranger. The woman smiling down at me was perhaps 25 and had the most beautiful blue eyes I'd ever seen, her gorgeous mane of dark blond hair was a shining bouncing cascade that flowed to just past mid-shoulder. Her perfect body was dressed to show off a to-die-for figure. She was perfect in skin tight winter white leggings under a marvelously soft matching hip length cowl neck sweater that hugged her in all the 'just right' places. Her leggings disappeared into low heeled, well about two inches really, lace up, ankle high, white leather granny styled boot. Peeking over the cowl neck of her sweater was a quarter sized heart shaped gold pendent outlined in sparkling emeralds. The pendent hung from a delicate gold chain and matched exactly the earrings that glittered at her ears. Her makeup was all frosted pinks, wet and sexy on her lips and matte and pretty on her eyes and cheeks. "Her eyes held a mischievous glint that combined amusement and maybe just a bit of lust. My mouth tried to work, to say something, make some type of explanation, but nothing would come out. Needless less to say, my boy-thing was trying to retreat inside somewhere near my stomach. Then a soft and gentle laugh, like the tinkling of bell. " Darling, I'm so sorry that I startled you." Her voice was a wonderful soft alto. "But I was afraid that you would finish with out me. Crouching gracefully, she extended her perfectly manicured right hand, her inch long pink nails sexy and ever so female. "I'm Marrisa, Mark's better half, his much better half I think." Drying my hand quickly, I tried to return her dazzling smile. As I grasped her (I simply couldn't think of this vision as male in any way, shape or form) hand, her left hand (graced I could see with a breathtaking wedding set) gently slapped my hand. "Gently dear, like a lady, not like some macho jerkoff, if you'll forgive my pun." With a will of it's own, my boy-thing made a reappearance and my voice joined it. "Marrisa?! Oh darling, your beautiful! You look like..." "Kathy Ireland, yes dear I know. It's taken lot's of work, but she is my ideal and there certainly worse girls I could resemble. Now baby, don't move!" With out another word she began to undress, no not just undress, a slow sensual strip show for her audience of one. How she got the boots unlaced and off was magical, a white pair of silky panties and her white push up bra were the last to go, well almost the last. Marrisa stood there in her flesh cover gaff (where ever had I picked up that word?). Slowly she freed herself from the restraining elastic and rubber. Slowly, sensually she lowered herself into the steamy water and directly into my arms. The first second of the eternal kiss we shared dispelled any doubt that this breathtaking woman in my arms was my darling lover. I could feel her sweet secret, her clitty-cock grow hard as our tongues explored each others warm, wanting mouths. Then, again as if by magic, Marrisa's hand guided mine to her waiting ex- citement. The feel of her girl-meat in my hand brought me to full excitement as I felt her nail gently trace the length of my penis from my hairless ball all the way to the silky head. This touch almost cause me to cum right then, but, sensing my ex- citement, Marrisa shifted her had to the base of my straining clitty-cock and clamping down with gentle strength stopped the flood of boy juice that was trying so hard to escape me. Breaking from our forever kiss, she laughed; "Darling Rikki, I'm glad that you seem eager to see me, but we have three whole days and I don't want you all tired out before we even start.' The second that the moment of my almost orgasm passed, she began to softly squeeze my now rock hard balls. The sensation was a blissful mix of pleasure with exactly the right amount of pain. A soft moan escaped my lips as with a will of it's own, free hand gently snuck up to caress a perfect breast. They were real! Her beautiful mounds of titty flesh were perfect and real. 'That right Rikki'; my she-male lover moaned, "play with my tittys, I love that. Do you like my titties Rikki? Would you like to have titties sweetheart. Tell me darling, what kind of titties, real titties, would my pretty Rikki like to have." Exploding from deep within my sub-conscious came my answer, one that surprised me both in content and feeling. "Want big titties, huge sexy mounds of wonderful girl flesh. I want to look like one of the bimbo's in "Sex to Sixty". Can you do this for me darling." I moaned helpless in the vision in my mind, a wasp waist, full woman's hips, and huge, impossibly firm tits. The kind that would transform me from a nothing male into a male wet dream. As this vision overtook me totally, Marrisa skillfully brought me to a shuddering orgasm. In that second, unknown to me, as my cock shot it's milky load into the swirling waters, bimbo hood and sex were forever joined. Still milking my passion from my endless jetting boy-meat, Marrisa free hand somehow found the wine glass in the water. Once my passion was spent, she slipped up onto the edge of the tub, her straining meat proudly erect between her perfect female thighs. Holding the glass in front of the en- gorged head she commanded; 'Jerk me off Baby, milk my shaft, get my milk Rikki." I redoubled my efforts, my right hand stoking her ivory velvet shaft, my left cupping and squeezing her heavy cum filled balls. "Please Marrisa let me suck, let me kiss it." A whiny, pleading crept into my voice. I was unable to tear my eyes from the beautiful shaft of my lovers penis just inches from my trembling lips. "Darling, just do as your told and I assure you that I'm going to make this weekend one that you'll look back on and cum just at the thought of. OH yes baby, we are going to expand your horizons to whole new worlds. Now hurry up darling, oh yes, that right baby, stoke my cock for me, Make Marrisa feel real good, stroke my meat, make me cum, that's right, squeeze my balls, that right, yes, oh fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck yes baby, fuck yes pretty bitch, YES!" Her body gave a start and she thrust her hips forward, almost hitting the end of her cumming cock on the end of the wine glass. My efforts with my lovers penis were rewarded by an explosion of cum that shot with un- believable force into the wine glass. It seemed as if she would never stop, and with a never ending series of pulsing jets the level of cum-milk in the glass rose, one-eighth, one-quarter, then a half full. Once she had emptied herself of boy-cum, my love reached down and with her left hand tilted my chin up so I looked into her sparking blue eyes and smiling she slowly poured the cum over my waiting face. My hands shot to my face, trying to guide the thick, rich boy milk to my hungry, wanting mouth. The feeling of needing to drink the thick boy juices my lover was slowly pouring on my waiting face overwhelming. I lapped at it like a dog, a bitch in heat. I felt my hands smearing Marrisa's love over my face, and knew exactly what I must look like, a mindless, cum hungry slut. But I simply didn't care. Or to be more exact, I was getting exactly what I wanted, my lovers hot, salty cum, and that was what mattered.

Then my cum hunger was sated for the moment, well not really, but the glass was empty and I didn't want to seem greedy. and once again Marrisa slipped her perfect body into the water and my cum covered lips meet with her hungry tongue. She liked me clean as a mother cat would clean her kitten. The cleaning was interspersed with hard, long kisses that made my boy-balls ache with wanting that they couldn't fulfill, for now.

A quick dunk and we both were free, more or less of or passions' wet, sticky seed and Marrisa helped me, week kneed from the hot tub. Leaving her clothes in an hung over the back of the deck chair, we went in the house, laughing and giggling, like teenagers. Taking me by the hand Marrisa lead me to Mother huge shower and pulling me inside turned the water onto a warm spray and pealing my (well I thought of it as mine) suit off soaped me and washed my now shoulder length hair (I just couldn't seem to make my self go to the barber). I loved the attention, her soft hand on my soapy body and having my hair washed was sexy beyond belief. Then pressing the soap into my hand she reached up and began to remove the green cucumber facial mask! I'd forgotten it totally. Unable not to, I asked; "Marrisa darling, how do I look with a green face?" Turning me to face her, her slick, soapy groin up against my as she slowly stripped the facial off, she whispered in a throaty voice with real passion; "Darling, I'd love you regardless of what you have on your face. This glop just makes you seem a little more female, more like a pretty girl trying to stay that way. After all, it's something that we girls have to do to stay pretty. And I know how much you want to be pretty and admired. Isn't that what you want?" Her question seemed to trigger a response from deep inside me. "More then anything. Rinsing us both off, Marrisa turned the water off and reach of the huge bath towel hanging from the rack, wrapped it around the two of us, pressing our wet, slick bodies tightly together, her soft full breast pressing into my slightly swollen, slightly sore chest. The kiss this time did last forever and in that timeless place I felt her nipples grow hard as I melted into her supple and strong embrace.

But even forever ends. As we slowly and reluctantly broke apart slightly, Marrisa, her face lit up with and angelic smile whispered in my ear as she dried me off; "We can't spend the whole day like this, I still want to get you dressed up. Now, I want you to be Jessica for me darling." I looked into Marrisa's eyes; "But Marrisa' I don't want to be Jessica, I want to be Rikki." I whined. "Now darling, you said that you wanted to be my bimbo, didn't you?" "Well yes, I do, but why do I have to pretend to be some one else?" I asked. Marrisa let a little steel creep into her voice; "A bimbo darling, is who ever her lover wants her to be. In fact, for the rest of this weekend I want you to act like Jessica, talk like Jessica and dress like Jessica. I want you to answer to her name. I want you to be Jessica. As to why, because you want to please me. Now come on in the bed room, so I can start your transformation." Quietly I followed, my mind in a turmoil. Why this thing about pretending to be my sister, because when she worked her transformation magic on me I could look so much like her. But when would she transform me to my ideal. Would she ever, I wondered. When? But she was right about one thing, being a bimbo meant being a sexual plaything and that's what I wanted. Unbidden a thought came into my mind that made me smile; 'I want to be a blonde joke." I don't know why but the idea was wonderful. Relaxed I followed Marrisa into my mothers bedroom.

The laptop computer was already set up and the blank head sat on the pillow. Without even the slightest of protest, I let Marrisa give me the sleepy time shot. As I felt the drug wash over me felt the cold metal of the head close over my waiting face.

Like Sleeping Beauty, I woke to a kiss. Except in my case it was from my Princess Charming. And as I woke to this vision, I realized that she was a Princess, my Princess, my wonderful, beautiful Princess Marrisa. I wanted to please her, have her be proud of me, want me. It was by being pretty, desirable and malleable that I would please her and make her want me, then she would be proud of me. Marrisa had dressed, out of the open suitcase on the end of the bed and I was in love. Kathy Ireland dressed in Barbie's clothes. Oh yes, I had an entire collection of Barbie hidden away, some of which I guess is worth something. No one knows about it (or so I thought) and Barbie had provided me with many happy hours, even more so once I had discovered masturbation. Now in front of me was one of my very favorites fantasies come to stunning life. While I'd slept, Marrisa had fixed her hair in a ass length pony tail and redone her makeup to an exact duplicate of a 1959 Barbie. She was dressed in a emerald green satin evening suit with a white satin camisole. The jacket was bolero styled, the skirt tapered with a hip length peplem. Marrisa still wore her earrings and pendent that she'd arrived with but added a matching tennis bracelet. Her nails were a perfect pale pink and a green satin pillbox style was pinned perfectly in place. She looked as if she has stepped right off the page of one of my Barbie catalogs. Just looking at her caused my boy-thing to remind me that I'd had enough rest for it to appreciate what I saw. "Well darling, I'm glad that you fancy all the work I went to. " As she spoke Marrisa did a slow modeling turn, the satin of her outfit whispering seduction. Smiling and pivoting gracefully on the super slim spiked heels of her emerald green satin pumps, Marrisa let me have a long look at her tight sexy ensemble. Moving back over to the bed, Marrisa let an outrageously exaggerated look of shock come over her lovely face as she pulled back Mother's satin sheet. "Why Jessica you have a cock! And it's hard!" As I reached down to touch my engorged clitty-cock I caught sight of my bright, wet, cherry red inch and half long sculpted nails. I became aware of the weight on my chest and realized that Marrisa had already worked her transformation magic, well at least some of it. I let my eyes travel to the angled mirror on the far wall that reflected the length of the pink satin canopy bed (nothing as slutty as a mirrored ceiling for Mommy dearest) and my breath stopped. My sister Jessica lay on the bed, her mane of light auburn hair spread over the pink satin of the huge, soft pillow. My face was a picture perfect fantasy, cherry red lips, eyes made up with just the right amount of hot pink shadow, blended to the palest of pastel pink at my high arching brows. My sparkling green eyes looked out from under long, lush lashes rich mascara. My beautiful, sexy sister Jessica regarded herself with a pouting smile as she gently fondled her 38DD breasts with one hand and her stiff cock with the other. The slowly, lovingly, the Barbie Doll came close and gently moved my hand away from my rock hard she-male meat. Then slowly her head moved toward my straining hard-on. With out a word this vision of perfection gently kissed the head of my penis. The sight in the mirror was all my secret dreams come to life as Barbie/Kathy/Marrisa's soft, silky, pink lips enveloped my penis in a slow, wonderful downward motion. I could feel my lovers tongue dance over first the head then the shaft of my erection as, ever so slowly, she took me completely into her wanting mouth. A moan from the depths of my soul escaped as pleasure overwhelmed me. Her lips were now pressed up against the base of my hard-on, I could feel her breath on my meat the was buried deep in her throat. Believing that no feeling could be as wonderful as what I had felt, she began ever so slowly to raise her head. "Oh darling, yes"; I half moaned, half screamed. I felt as if my clitty-cock would explode from the pleasure that my darling was giving me, but again Marrisa's strong, sure fingers squeezed the base of my shaft to deny me the immediate release I sought. I watched in the mirror as the beautiful woman in the shiny green satin pink lips slowly slid up the now lipstick smeared shaft of the big tited, red haired she- male who lay naked on the gleaming pink satin sheet. Over and over the stunning, living Barbie Doll's insatiable mouth slid down my hard-on and over and over brought me to the edge of bliss. Each time I was denied the release that I was now begging for, pleading for. I was moaning and withering as the tides of need demanded and were withheld. The stunning redhead in the mirror was reduced to a mindless slut whose need overwhelmed everything else. My universe narrowed to my lovers lips and mouth and my cock, nothing else mattered. I could hear Jessica as she begged her Barbie for the release she now wanted, needed. "God, please let me cum"; I pleaded. "Please, darling, oh please. Your my goddess, my darling, Please make Jessica cum, make Jessica's cock cum, Oh fucking jesus darling, let me cum." The I found my self panting, just making little animal noises as I tried to buck, to force myself into her mouth, desperate to obtain the relief that lover so skillfully denied me. My balls ached with need, my cherry red nails clawed at the pink satin sheets and my body arched with wanting. Suddenly, her mouth was all over my cock, all at once, her tongue darting, her lips sucking, her hand kneading my painfully full testicles. My orgasm swept over me like a tidal wave, my cock emptying it's load deep in my lovers waiting mouth. The room first swam, then darkened. My reality became the endless waves of ecstasy the engulfed me. As I passed out all I could see was the beautiful redhead in the mirror. Her lovely face was a animal mask of pleasure, her voice screaming "Fuck me darling"; over and over.

As I slowly came back to reality, Instead of the empty ache of my spent need what I felt was a warm glow that spread thur my entire body. Marrisa stood smiling as she reapplied her lipstick. "Well Darling, back with us?" Then she reach out and ever so gently stoked my arm. "Nothing make a woman more beautiful then that well fucked glow." I let my eyes go back to the mirror and found that, again, Marrisa was right. I fairly glowed, my smile one of pure contentment. "Now Darling, I want you to get that sweet ass of yours out of bed and get dressed, we have dinner reservations for eight and our dates will be here at seven. It's five thirty now, so you really don't have lots of time."

My glow evaporated in a flash of pure panic. "What in god's name are you talking about, date's? Jesus Marrisa, are you out of you mind!" "Calm down Darling, listen to your self. Even as upset as you seem, your voice is still perfect. Now, listen to me. We're going out together, with our dates and were going to have a lovely time. First dinner, then maybe a club. Your going to be beautiful and admired. Your date is going to love what he see's and I'm sure that he'll remain a gentleman. I have an outfit all picked out for you, Your sister bought it at I. Magnum and your Mother picked it up. You know your sister, when she buys an outfit, she does it from the skin out." Pointing to a pile of boxes and a two hanging garment bags, Marrisa continued; "Sweetheart, you know that you want to do this and your going to have the time of your life tonight, cocktails, dinner, drinks, dancing. Now lover, get dressed, I'm starting to feel overdressed and out of place."

I slid off the satin sheets and made a quick visit to the ladies room to clean up my boy thing and then back to the bedroom. The top box was toped with a pink bow and a card. T unfolded it and read "To my darling, our secrets are so wonder- ful." I opened the box and found a gaff exactly like the one Marrisa wore under her leggings. I needed help getting it on for the first time, but after some fumbling and giggling , my wonder- ful boy-thing was safely tucked away and out of sight if not out of mind. The second box, as were the rest, were from I. Magnum. My worry about not only going out in public for the first time, but going out with a date, a man, faded in the christmas like feeling of opening my sister's presents (no matter how unin- tended) to her new alter ego. I spilled the first box on the bed. A black satin Victorian waist cinch, matching panties and a pair of silky sheer black, back seamed, thigh high hose. As I struggled into the breathtaking (both because it was so tight and because it was so beautiful) heavily boned waist cinch I turned to admired the new me the waist cinch created. My waist shrank from 28 to 22 inches and without even wondering why, I knew that my measurements were now 40-22-37. My date would have to love a girl with a figure like that, wouldn't he? As Marrisa pulled the last little bit needed to close the back of the waist cinch I giggled at the thought of how my date would react when he felt the heavy satin waist cinch as he held me close as we danced. I smoothed the dusky seamed hose on, making a Mrs. Robinson show out of it which Marrisa seemed to like, calling me 'a tease"; and adding; 'you know that we don't have time for each other right now baby.' As soon as I had the garters fastened and pulled the straps taunt on my sexy hose, I slipped my brief red satin panties on, pulling them up and over first my hose, then my garter straps. I pulled the panties up tight and my gaff disap- peared. Now my secret really was, unless my date got in my panties, that is. Putting on the wonderful and sexy lingerie made me feel so completely female that my fear of the upcoming date took a back seat to my joy in dressing from the skin out as a exquisite and alluring woman. I was so lost in my pleasure at how I looked that I hadn't notice that Marrisa had produced a video recorder and was taping my impromptu modeling session. I started to object (what if Mom saw the tape), but her obvious pleasure and her coaching on just how to show off to the camera so had me prancing around like a Christie Brinkley wanna-be.

While Marrisa continued her taping, I resumed dressing up. The next box yielded up and unexpected treasure, a black longline bra with a really low back, the cups were underwired, low cut and gently cradled and pushed my already impressive breasts up and up giving me breathtaking cleavage. Showing myself off to the video camera, I found the thought of being filmed more and more ex- citing. Twirling in front of the mirror to make sure that my seams were straight, I tried to give the camera a show that should have melted the shutter, well I hope that at the least that I raised Marrisa's body heat a few degree's. The next box was a shoe box and I was dying to open it. A gorgeous pair of black patent pumps trimmed with beautiful ruby red rhinestone beads and what had to be at least a five inch high, super slim golden, spiked heels. My hands were actually trembling as I pulled them from the box and slid them on my feet. The fit was perfect. There were three more boxes on the bed, but a word from Marrisa sent me dancing over to the first garment bag. The dress was everything I hope it would be, a jet black silk slipdress embellished by a fiery fusion of black, ruby red, gold and silver sequins and beads in a bold low cut molded bodice. The shoulder straps were thin gold glitter beads that set of my creamy skin perfectly. Marrisa took a break from filming to help me with the back zip, cut just low enough to be sexy but not slutty. The jet black silk tightly tapered skirt of this dream dress was about three inches above my knee and as Marrisa resumed filming me I couldn't stop showing off in front of the mirror. I was in love with the reflection of beautiful woman in the dramatic black silk and shinning beaded creation. The sound of the taffeta lining of the dress against the silk of my hose, the feeling of the dress as it hugged my provocative, wonderful curves, the sight of my cleavage, all of it combined to make me want to look like this, dress like this, feel like this forever.

"Would you like to sing 'I feel pretty' darling, and you are pretty lover. That dress fits like a dream and I love seeing you in it. But darling, time presses and there are still a few boxes." Marrisa's voice brought me back to semi-reality. "I'm sorry my lady"; I laughed as I turn and curtsied to my still taping Princess, my lady love. "But this is even better the first time, I feel like these are really my things and I love them." Back to the bed and the first and smallest of the three boxes contained a pair of beautiful gold and diamond earrings. The dangling, flashing earring hung three inches from the half carat diamond set in a diamond shaped setting and the cascade mirrored the pattern of shinning sequins and beads in the bodice of my (and yes, from now on I decided, this was MY dress.) wonderfully tight, body hugging dress. The erotic weight of these bewitching, fiery earrings just reinforced my feeling of total femininity. The second box yielded up a pair of black shiny nylon jersey, over the elbow length gloves. As I slowly pulled the silky gloves up over my arms I could see the clinging material molded itself to my hands like a second silky, shining black skin. I turned to face myself in the mirror.

Sophisticated, dramatic, unforgettable. A gorgeous woman smiled back at me with red pouting lips, devastatingly feminine. I heard the video camera click off and then a equally stunning vision was at my side a green satin clutch and a pair of white satin shorty gloves in one hand, a black beaded clutch held out for me in the other. As I turned to face her, I felt the sweep of my silky auburn hair across my shoulders and felt the glow that beautiful woman gets from wearing beautiful things spread through me. Marrisa's voice was soft and tender; "Your stunning Jessica." The chiming of the door bell cut her off, our dates were here!

What adventures lay (pun intended) ahead for our sweet boy/girl. What is Jessica/Rikki/Richard's date like, how will her horizons expand. What does Marrisa/Mark really have in mind for our young lady. As always, if you liked it, have a fantasy outfit that Rikki would look good in (she doesn't have to like it, just look good in it), or even if you hated it, please write. Stay tuned to this TV channel.

Love and Hugs

Desiree

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RIKKI4.TXT

Welcome back! I hope you have enjoyed parts 1-3 and will enjoy part four just as much. Sorry this chapter is so short but school has demanded a little more time then I expected

TRADING PLACES - Part 4

By Ms. Desiree Foster

My heart was pounding like a bad set of speakers with the base turned way up. In the back of my mind, I'd hoped that Marrisa had ben kidding when she'd said that she set up an evening out for us. But not just the two of us, she not only expected me to go out for the first time dressed as my sister, but to go out on a date. While Marrisa and I had made love with each other, I never ever thought of her as a man, she was simply a beautiful woman with a wonderful secret in her panties. However, I wasn't given much of a chance to object and I found myself arm and arm with Marrisa, prancing down the hall in our slim spiked heels to answer the front door.

Just a few feet from the front door panic finally set in. I stopped and grabbed desperately at Marrisa's arm. "Marrisa, I can't, he'll know! I'll never pass for Jessica, everyone who see's me will know." I whispered, feeling sick to my stomach, I continued; "I'm not like you, your so beautiful and so confident. No one would your not what you seem." The bell chimed again. Marrisa stopped and turned to face me. Instead of the sharp rebuke I expected, her voice was soft, gentle and filled with love. "Darling, of course you can pass for Jessica, granted that your Mother might, and I mean just might, be to tell you apart. I would never set you up to be hurt. I did this for three reasons. One, I know that you can pass and your simply to pretty to say home like some old maid. Second, I want you to become so sure of yourself that you don't feel insecure about any female role you want to try. The third reason is that were lovers now, lesbians if you like, and I want you to try the Bi world. Just remember darling, your Jessica, your wearing all of Jessica's beautiful things and no one will ever guess that your not exactly what you seem." As she spoke, I felt my fears evaporate (well some of them) and more importantly, I didn't want Marrisa to be disappointed in me. I put on my most dazzling smile and looking deep in my darling's sparkling eyes. "I sorry Marrisa, I guess that everything has just happened so fast." Marrisa gave me a loving squeeze and we went to the door. Marrisa opened the door and I caught my first sight of the first man to see me in my transformed state. What hunks, the first was in his mid fifties, tall, graying and very distinguished looking with a short, perfectly trimmed salt and pepper beard. The second gentleman standing next to him was a little shorter and much younger, perhaps only 30 and very rugged and handsome, the collage quarterback type, but with the look of someone who had taken his football accomplishments, put them behind him and built on it. The older (and I thought cuter) gentleman spoke first (I knew he would); "Ms. St.Johns and Ms. DeChomboard? I'm Eric McMasters and this is my friend Jason Camp." An slight english accent, he was just to perfect! I opened the door wide and held my hand out, just like I'd seen Jessica do a hundred time. It took all my courage to let him take my hand and doing my best to keep my voice soft, breathy and a carefully controlled alto welcomed them. (After all this was my house, sort of.) "Call me Jessica please, DeChombonard is such a mouth full. As he entered he took my hand and gracefully executed a perfect bow and kissed my gloved hand. I felt an electric shock pass thur me. No one in my life had ever show this kind of attention to me, I'd never felt so 'center stage'. I loved it. Marrisa was right, being a beautiful woman sure beat being a nothing boy. Marrisa paired off with Jason right from the start. The next words that came out of my mouth surprised even me "I hope that we have time for a drink before we leave." Smiling, I lead everyone thur the living room and into the family room. Jason moved behind the bar and made an appreciative whistle; "Now this is what I call a bar, you have wonderful taste Jessica." I blushed slightly; "Why thank you kind sir, but in this case I'm afraid that I can't take any of the credit. This is my mothers house, I live in the hills above Malaibu. Marrisa and I just this would be so much more convenient for everyone." Jason smiled, "Well then my complements to your Mother for everything, Eric, your usual? And ladies?" Oh god, what does Jessica drink, lets see, we went to dinner and she ordered a..." Marrisa jumped in, thank god. "I'd love a glass of white wine and Jessica, your usual Gin and Tonic? I don't see how you drink those things darling." That's it gin and tonic, I have got to calm down. Everything is going well and Marrisa has been right about everything else. I smiled at Jason, "I don't know why I like them, I guess that I just have a warm spot in my heart for things English." As I spoke, I let my eyes leave Jason and locked directly onto Eric. His smile back was warm and left no doubt that he found me attractive.

Suddenly the thought that a man might find me attractive left me confused and shaken, but on the other hand the success of my flirting remark about 'things english' filled me with a sense of both pride and power. I could make someone want me and I could say no, if I wanted. My feeling of wanting to be desired and wanted won over my fear of being a sissy-boy, a queer.

Then Jason was handing me a gin and tonic and Marrisa was skillfully guiding the conversation to where I couldn't help but join in. Suddenly I found myself truly enjoying myself, the feel of my dress, the weight of my breasts, the silky brush of my hair and most of all the side glances both Eric and Jason threw my way. A second drink and then we were on our way to dinner. Just before we left, Marrisa and I returned to bedroom for our wraps and purses. It was then that found just how well Marrisa was prepared. In my purse were a drivers license and credit cards, all made out to Jessica M. DeChombonard. In fact they were Jessica's. I looked at Marrisa and gasped "How did you get these?" Marrisa smiled and softly answered; "About six months ago, your sister lost her purse, well she didn't really. She left it in your Mothers's car and well I just appropriated it. I wouldn't use the credit cards, I'm sure that she has reported them lost or stolen, but it will do for answering any casual question, like are you 21. She casually dropped my lipstick and spritzed just a hint of Channel behind my ears and picking up her green satin wrap, looked pointedly at the remaining garment bag. I went over to it and a post-it-note stuck to the outside said 'Fuck the Whales'. In the garment bag was a sable coat, calf length with a plush, full shawl collar. I loved the feel of slipping into the heavy fur, the silky touch of the jet black fur. Something that a beautiful woman wears. Rich, expensive, sexy.

The evening passed in a pleasant haze, dinner on the strip, the off for more drinks and dancing. When Eric had first asked me to dance, my heart had began to pound, I'd never danced with a man and was afraid that something would give away to Eric the fact that I wasn't exactly what I seemed. Even more, I was afraid that if I danced with Eric, let him take me in his power- ful arms and hold me close to his strong mature body, that I would like it, like it the way a woman does, like it and want him. I was terrified that I would want him to love me like a woman. Eric was a perfect gentleman, close, but not too close, tight but not too tight. I loved dancing with him and as the night wore on I found myself moving closer to him, not pulled to him by his strength, but attracted to him by his charm.

Then it was 3 A.M. and I was walking back to Eric's car, alone with Eric. Marrisa had taken Jason off with her for breakfast at the beach and I was alone with Eric. The night was cold (well for L.A. it was) and I had my fur (yes, I now thought of that fabulous coat as mine, Marrisa was right again, fuck the whales, or to be more exact, fuck the minks, sables or whatever) pulled tight around me. My gloved arm was held gently by Eric and the sound of my high heels was so sexy that it was making my gaff some what uncomfortable. We arrived at the car (a Jaguar, Eric felt a duty to buy British and simply couldn't understand Americans buying Japanese when there was a choice) and as he turned to help me in, I turned to him instead of the car. Sudden- ly I was in his arms, my lips hungary for his, my body molded to his. As he wrapped his strong arms around me and crushed me to him, I found the idea of his making love to me irresistible and delightful. As we kissed, I let my right hand gently stroke the now prominent bulge in Eric's perfectly tailored suit pants. The soft stoke of my black gloved fingers brought a soft moan from Eric. Slowly and gently he forced me back against the hood of the Jag. I sat down and with a mounting need that surprised me with it's force, was pulling my fur open with my right hand and pushing the tight silk skirt of dress up with my other hand. I watch with hungry fascination as Eric quickly unbuttoned his fly and released his wonderful, massive, fully erect cock from this white cotton boxer shorts. As I pulled my panties to the side and down. Eric through some fantastic act of legerdemain produced a condom and pulled the thin rubber over the angry head of the cock that I had to have in me. "I want you in my bottom darling; I breathed, my need now a physical, demanding thing; "Do you want my cherry there, please say yes." Eric simply kissed me quite and then as our lips meet, I felt the pressure of his tool at the gate of my virgin ass. The condom was lubricated and I arched my back and brought my nylon clad legs up and wrapped them around Eric, he place his strong, capable arms around my corseted waist, his large, powerful, gentle, hands in the small back. It hurt as he took me, but it was a wonderful pain, a pain that excited me further. Suddenly I realized that I wanted it to hurt, that I wanted Eric's cock to make me know that I was being fucked, just like a pretty girl know when her lover take her pussy's cherry. I moved my legs up and over Eric's broad shoulders and felt more and more of his huge manhood slid ever deeper into my tight, hurting, wanting ass. I could her my sisters voice begging Eric to fuck her, to fill her ass with his cock, to use her just like the slut she was. More and more cock filled me, my sphincter clamping tight around the anal intruder that was filling my bowels with wonderful man meat. I began to work my ass muscles, squeezing then relaxing and was rewarded with a groan of pleasure from Eric. Ever so slowly Eric forced his 10 inch tool into me. My ass felt as if it was on fire, the pain and the pleasure merging into a glorious golden haze of needing and wanted to be used. Once his cock was fully in me, I heard Jessica begging; "Please fuck me, please, I need to be fucked darling, I want your cock, Oh yes darling, oh Eric, your so hard, so big, and my ass is so full, your hurting me so good, Yes." Jessica's voice continued as, slowly at first, then with mounting speed and force, Eric began to use my ass as a woman's cunt, as I wanted it used. I could feel his wonderful rock hard tool sliding out, my sphincter clamping hard, trying to keep him in me, then rever- sing and plunging deep into my yielding ass. I could feel the cold night air blowing up my dress, could see my panties draped around my left ankle, felt the motion of the car as it rocked in time to Eric's pounding thrusts as his cock had my ass's cherry. The pressure on my prostrate made me so hot, yet the gaffe conspired to keep me from an erection, my testicles forced back inside my body cavity ached with the cum that I needed to spend. I wanted and needed relief, my body wanting, the gaffe denying. But more then anything, I loved feeling Eric's cock in me, filling me the way a slut like me should be filled. I thought how wonderful it would be to be sucking Marrisa's she-male meat while Eric's huge man-cock fucked my ass so very full, filled me, used me. The thought of Marrisa's soft, sexy woman's body and wonderful boy-cock coupled with the pleasure of Eric's mature, but rock solid body and his huge, demanding penis brought me to a new level of need. From outside of myself I knew that I was now moaning and whimpering my need as Eric's pounding shaft drilled in and out of my now slick, wet ass. Then as his meat filled me deeper then ever and he moaned "Oh Jessica" and his lips fell to me in a brutal kiss. I felt his balls jump against my creamy ass cheeks as, within my gaffe, I felt myself come. Eric collapsed against me, my black nyloned legs still wrapped around and over his strong shoulders, his spending cock buried to it's full depth between my soft ass cheeks. I felt his strong body quiver with it pleasure, pleasure I was providing, as I felt his body quake with the force of his orgasm. As we came. I sucked his tongue into my mouth and treating just like it was Marrisa's clitty-cock began to suck it. I kept sucking his tongue as I felt his body quake over and over with the force of his pleasure, felt his meat spasm as my ass held him deep inside of me, just like the she- bitch that I'd somehow became.

Finally, he was done and I was sated. I could feel the squesy mess inside my gaffe. With horror realized that in my heat for Eric, my passion had far overcame my common sense. Like a red flag draws a bull, my red panties drew my eyes as that flapped gently in the breeze from my ankle. My gaffe was fully exposed to even the most casual of Eric's glance, and Eric's gaze was anything but casual. Eric slowly withdrew his enormous cock from my behind, careful to keep the condom on as his tool pulled free with a slight plop and my sphincter tried to hold him in. I looked at him with a mix of love (well lust) and fear. Suddenly I was very aware of his powerful body and his masculine strength. He had to know that I was a sissy-boy, a pretty she-male all dressed up as a seductive woman. Suddenly the hood to the car felt hard and unyielding and the deserted, darkened parking lot, ominous and foreboding. I dropped my legs off of Eric's broad shoulders as he produced a handkerchief, to clean himself with I assumed. Instead he, gently pulled my gaffe aside and began to clean my clitty cock up. I looked up at him and was rewarded with a gentle smile. Only when, between kisses, my boy thing was cleaned up as good as was possible and my gaffe gently replaced did he clean himself. As he re-zipped his pants I slid off the hood of his Jag and pulled my panties up. I shivered slightly as he turned to me. "You were wonderful Jessica, I'd forgotten how exciting sex can be on the spur of the moment, especially with a beautiful woman." I pulled my fur around me as I whispered "But Eric, I'm not a..." His kiss stilled my confession, "I know Jessica, and I don't care. Your very beautiful and a truly erotic creature. That's a rare and marvelous combination. My only question is how far you want to take your sexual frontiers and will I be lucky enough to share them?" I melted into his arms and my lips searched for his. His were ever so gentle in reply.

After a wonderful breakfast, we drove back to the house, as I disarmed the alarm, I felt Eric's breath on the back of my neck, followed by a soft kiss on the nape of my neck. The electricity was still there. "Darling"; he whispered; "I have to go, but I think that you want to see me again, and I know that I want to see you. You live here, don't you." I turned to face him and admitted that "Yes Eric, I do." "And Jessica is your older sister?" I was shaken at his insight. "Yes, I'm Rikki." "Well Rikki, I think that a beautiful name. But no more stories, how old are you?" "17 almost eighteen, that's not to young, please tell me you don't mind." "No Rikki, I'm 55, that's no to old. Does you parents know?" "No" I admitted "Mothers divorced and she works as a costume designer. She lives here with a girlfriend, Monica's a nurse and neither one is home much." Eric considered a moment before he replied "Well I'll just have to see what we can do. I have to go back to England on business for a few week so I have some time to figure out what we can do. Goodnight Rikki." The feel of his kiss stayed with me as I heard his Jag pull off.

I was tired, but couldn't bring myself to undress. I did carefully rehang my sable in it's garment bag and pulled my long, slinky, black gloves off. I wandered out to the living room and fixed myself a drink, a gin and tonic. I felt a little sore all over, my day had been a little physical, in an orgasmic sort of way, so I popped the last of my muscle relaxers and kicked back on the couch. The clock was just chiming 6 A.M. when the phone rang. I slid down the couch and reached for it when suddenly I remembered that Mom had been going to call me last night. Shit! I couldn't answer the phone as Jessica, well both Eric and Marrisa knew about Rikki's little secret. God, I was going to have to get over making problems for myself. I answered just as the answering machine kicked in. "Hello?" God I hated the sound of Richard's voice, so wishy-washy and male. "Rikki darling?" Marrisa sounded wonderful. I let my voice climb an octave, and marveled at how much better I sounded. "Marrisa darling! Oh I've got so much to tell you, you were right about everything! I had a wonderful time! I just got home about half an hour ago and your never going to guess what happened!" I paused, slightly out of breath. "I can guess sweetheart;" Marrisa laughed; "You've got that just fucked glow in your voice. How wonderful! Are you doing something with Eric today or may I come over later today, after noon, maybe about twoish." The wonderful thought of both Eric's and Marrisa's fabulous cocks in me made me smile to myself as I answered. "Darling, I always have time for you. Eric is flying out today so we have the rest of the weekend to ourselves. But if Eric were here, I'd still want you to come." Marrisa laughed at my unintentional pun. "I think I may have created a sexual Frankenstein here. But that was sweet of you to say, really. I had a great night too, not as good as yours, but Jason seem's to like me and we have a date for tonight. But not until ten tonight. He has to work, poor baby." "Maybe I should worry about you having time for me Marrisa darling." I giggled. "Never worry about that Rikki darling, men ar OK, but they can never share what we have. I don't think ether Eric or Jason would let me get turned on by fixing their hair, makeup and dressing them up in tight, slinky dresses." I couldn't help but laugh at that. "Your right as always sweetheart." I paused to take a sip of my gin and tonic, then continued; "You've been right about everything so far. I can't describe how I felt last night, having the door opened for me, having my chair held, knowing that everyone in the restaurant accepted me as a pretty girl;" I caught sight of my reflection in the glass door of the grandfather clock and made a correction; "not a girl, but a beautiful woman. Then to find out that I could make a man happy, have him want me and make him cum." I sat my empty glass down and let a long, red nail gently trace my nylon. I continued; "I'm so glad that you made me go out last night. I wish I could stay like this forever." Marrisa laughed gently. "Well lover, you'd better get some sleep, I don't want you all puffy eyed and cranky when I get there. Goodnight Rikki darling." "Goodnight Marrisa, I love you darling." Leaving my glass on the floor with my cherry red lipstick still smeared on it, I wandered into my, well Richard's, sickeningly male bedroom. Getting the dress unzipped took some doing, long nails look lovely, but they're not real useful. I slipped out of the spiked heels and carefully took my dress off and hung it on a hanger. I couldn't bring myself to take my bra and waist cinch off, the tightness just felt to good and I found myself wishing that I could lace the black satin foundation even tighter. I did however take the gaff off and washed it and my clitty cock. (A girl has to stay fresh down there.) Trying not to muss my hair to much, I slipped my headphones, slipped Maiden songs II into my Walkman for the first time, and drifted off to sleep delicately fondling my breasts with one hand and my semi-hard boy thing with the other.

Well Rikki has discovered men! What new adventure's await our boy-girl. Marrisa/Mark seems not to be the possessive type. Was Rikki sincere in saying that she has a dream of bimbo-hood, Will Eric turn out to be a one night stand or will he (or should he) be back. If you've made it this far, I'm going to assume (a dangerous thing) that you, darling readers have liked it thus far. This episode took forever due to the demands of school (a 42 year old undergrad is almost an oxymoron). Part 5 of 3 (no mistake, god am I a wordy slut) is in the works and my 225,000 byte S&M, B&D, forced TV, sexchange, SiFi, guaranteed to offend everyone, short story is being rewritten for the 93d time. To all of you who have written, thank you and all my hugs and kisses.

Love;

Desiree Foster

****************************** This file came from Sierra Connection BBS Serving the Gender Community from Nevada 702-825-4220 8-N-1 28.8 VF (4 Nodes)

Home of the Fiction Story Writing Contest Home of the Gif Beauty Contest RIKKI5.TXT

Welcome back as Richard/Rikki continues down her slippery slope to she-male hood. Will someone show up to save Rikki from this terrible (smirk) fate! I hope you have enjoyed parts 1-4 and will enjoy part five just as much as I've enjoyed doing them.

TRADING PLACES - Part 5

By Ms. Desiree Foster

The dream was wonderful, her satin soft lips sliding up and down my stiff, aching, clitty-cock while her velvety fingers kneaded my cum filled boy balls. Every time that my dream lover felt my relief come near, gentle pressure would deny my need to spew my love juice into the sucking, demanding mouth whose tongue licked my painful hardon. As I drifted in the dream would that I never wanted to end, I slowly became aware that my dream lover was real. I opened my eyes and gazed lovingly down at Barbie as she sucked her friend Madge's cock. The thought made me giggle, and Barbie looked up from my lipstick smeared boy-meat. "Well, I was wondering if you were ever going to wake up sleepy head." She slid up the bed and the taste of my pre-cum just made the long, loving kiss sweeter. As she slowly and reluctantly broke her lips away from me I let my eyes take in my lover. I almost came just looking at her. The Barbie image was even stronger this morning, she now looked literally like a page from one of the little Barbie catalogs come to life. Her golden blonde mane was pulled back into a sexy pony tail that hung down to the small of her back. Marrisa began to gently stroke my cock with her slender fingers as she let a bit of iron creep into her soft contralto voice. "You know Rikki, you left the door unlocked, your glass in the living room next to the phone and your dress hanging on Richard's bedroom door. All in all, you should be glad that I showed up a little early and cleaned up. What would you do if you'd have woke up to Jessica screaming "What the fuck are you doing in my clothes, you little faggot" "I'm sorry Marrisa, your right, I'm such a ditz. (Ditz? What do I mean by that? But Marrisa's right.) I just bare the thought of taking all of my, I mean Jessica's pretty things off. Please don't be mad at me." Marrisa smiled "Your forgiven darling, but I going to have to teach you to be more careful. Now let's get you up, oh you are already up!" With that Marrisa scooted down and my heart began to pound as I watched her wet, slick pink lips approach my she-meat. I could feel her warm breath on my now painful hardon. "Does Rikki want her nasty boy-thing sucked?" Marrisa whispered. Oh yes darling, I need to cum so bad, my balls hurt." "Rikki was bad, she didn't clean up did she?" "No darling, I didn't." "And your a ditz, aren't you?" "Yes dar- ling, I guess I am." "Tell me what you are, well Rikki." I was blushing wildly as I answered; "I'm a stupid, empty headed bimbo and I need to be taught a lesson." I couldn't believe what I was saying as I said it. But more and more all that counted was that Marrisa like me, that I do just what I was told in a manner that she found pleasing. Instead of losing my stiffy during this humiliating exchange, my desire increased, I was even more turned on. I remembered her tieing me up that first time she had ever dressed me up in pretty girl things, and I remembered how helpless I'd felt, how scared. It was almost as if I could feel the handcuffs and the rope again. As these thought flooded through my mind, I felt Marrisa take just the tip of my clitty- cock between her satin soft lips, and I moan out my need; "Please Marrisa, please, I'll be a good girl from now, please Marrisa." Marrisa's hand was cupping my balls, squeezing tighter and tighter, my hands were making fluttering gestures, she was hurting my boy-balls so good. Marrisa move up on the bed, her free hand pushing her skirt up and then pulling her sheer panties down. Swinging her leg up and over my head I was suddenly presented with the sight of Marrisa's semi-hard penis above my waiting lips. I hungerly arched my neck to take her in my mouth, the feel of her satin cock head touching my lips so wonderful that if Marrisa hadn't clamped down hard on my balls I would have came right that second. My arms were pinned to my sides by Marrisa's strong thighs and legs and her wonderful cock was filling my mouth with it sweet pre- cum taste. She was right about everything, I was a ditz, helpless, stupid, sexual, hot, I wanted to be dressed in tight sexy clothes, high spiked heels, I wanted to be mindless, available, pleasing. I was moving my hips, trying to make her lips slid up and down my shaft, but she was denying me that pleasure, instead I felt her teeth. I stopped moving my hips and her painful bite relaxed. I tried to lay very still, relaxing my body, becoming limp. As I became more passive, Marrisa's crushing grip on my balls relaxed and slowly her tongue began to trace a tiny circle around my cock head. Marrisa's now fully erect cock filled my mouth I lay still under her. Marrisa began to pump her hips, slowly at first but then with greater and greater force. Marrisa was fucking my mouth, and I loved it! I wanted to cum, but couldn't as I lay still, passive, dressed in my waist cinch, bra, hose and heels. Marrisa's lips were gentle but unmoving on my shaft as her tongue expertly teased me to the brink of orgasm over, her soft hands kneading my now overfull boy-balls. Faster and deeper Marrisa drove her cock down my throat, gaging me with her wonderful, hard, stiff she-male penis, making me suck and lick. Gagging me exactly as I deserved. I lay completely passive as I was face fucked by my lover, her legs now clamped around me like a silken straight jacket. Then her cock was buried deep in my throat as her load of girl-cum flooded my mouth and down my throat. I had to gulp desperately to avoid being drowned in Marrisa's cum. As I felt her cock pulsing it's jets of warm, sticky, thick cum into my mouth, as I lay there, helpless and submissive under her, my arms held tightly to my side by her strong thighs, I felt the intense pleasure of my submission as my clitty-cock gave up it's load of boy juice to my lovers hungry, demanding mouth.

Marrisa collapsed on top of me as she finally spent her load of cum into my mouth pussy. Half smothered under her softly scented body, I began to lock her sweet cock clean, wanting and needing her cum, loving the feel if her softing penis in my mouth. As I loving licked my lover clean, I felt her lips leave my cock. Marrisa lay there for what seemed like forever, but I didn't mind, I loved her weight on top of me, pinning me to the bed. I felt her wipe my cock clean with my sheet and then she slowly slid off and stood. Looking down at me she slowly and slid her cock back into her wispy panties and straightened her skirt. Once again, Marrisa was complete, a beautiful young woman, her boy thing a sweetly hidden secret.

After I got up, I learned to straighten my hair and to reapply my makeup. After I was picture perfect, I was told by Marrisa to strip. When I started to object (I really wanted to put my beautiful dress, the one Eric had fucked me in), Marrisa lightly slapped me and told me to shut up and to get my stupid ass out of Jessica's clothes. When I started to cry, Marrisa told me to put on a happy face and that if I wasn't good, I should expect to be treated like a bad sissy-boy. She then sat me down in front of Mother's mirror and told me to practice looking like a good girl. I sat there staring at the beautiful, heavily made up sexy boy-girl in the mirror who's ravishing face was fixed in a mindlessly sexual smile, a total come on to all. Only when she was happy that I'd learned my lesson was I allowed to get up and get dressed. While I'd been sitting at the mirror Marrisa had brought in six boxes and laid them on the bed. After receiving permission, I was allowed to go over to them. The top box contained a dozen roses from Eric, long stemed red roses, with a note addressed to Jessica. Marrisa said that I could read the note after I got dressed. As I reached for the second box, Marrisa gently stopped me. "Rikki, up to now, I've dressed you in ether your Mother's or sister's clothes. I've let you pretend to be you sister and all in all, I've been pleased. But from now on you have to earn your time as Jessica. So, if you want Eric to see Jessica again, Rikki had better be a good girl for me. These boxes have Rikki's clothes in them, clothes that Rikki will take care of and wear. Also these boxes have Rikki's makeup, makeup I expect Rikki to become expert with. From now on Richard will never call me, only Rikki may, and Rikki had better be shaved, made up, dressed, wigged and perfect when I arrive. We'll still play dress up and I'll find lot's of reasons to allow you into Mommies's closets, but only I will allow it. You may dress in Rikki's things whenever you like, but Christina's and Jessica's things are off limits unless I allow it. Do you understand. "Yes darling." I meekly agreed. My heart was in my throat, Rikki's things, oh yes!. I knew everything would be beautiful! My hands were trembling as Marrisa handed me the first box of her boxes. I opened it and was rewarded with a box of what must have been 20 pair of pantyhose in a dozen shades. The colors of the Haines ultra sheer hose ranged from midnight blue through neutral beige to pastel pink and blue, to white. Under the still wrapped panty hose were 8 pair of bikini panties in, 2 each of pink, black, white and beige. Marrisa handed me my gaff and as I forced my clitty cock into the restrictive latex Marrisa removed the tags from a pair of the white panties. As soon as my gaff was on properly, I was handed the silky, lacy panties and pulled them on over my shaved legs. "That's better Rikki, now come here and set down." I walked back over to Mom's makeup table and sat down. My hopes of a new make over were dashed as Marrisa instead to gum solvent and removed first my wig then the wonderfully life like synthetic breasts that gave me such a magnificent voluptuous figure. As she cleaned up my chest looked longingly at the pile of latex and silicone that I'd come to love. I looked down in disgust at my flat chest and noticed that I had developed just the tiniest of breasts (so small that I was sure that it was just wishful thinking). Marrisa produced a tape measure and wrapped it first over my nipples then under my ever so slightly budding breasts. She pronounced; "Well just a 34AA, but a journey of a thousand miles and all that shit. Don't worry darling, I promise that this is temporary, you'll be a 40EE before you know it. Now get your sweet little tush up and let's see what other pretty things you have." The second box yielded three pretty lace bras that matched my panties, in white, black and beige. With the cryptic remark; "No sense in making a big investment in little bra's."; Marrisa removed the price tag from the white bra and helped me into it. The bra was padded, underwired (rather stiffly) and had push up pads. Once my tiny titties were settled in the lace cups I could see by my reflection that I now had a B cup and enough cleavage that I was no longer embarrassed not having the kind of breasts that bimbos should have (what a strange thought, but it's true, I should have big tits, that what my lovers like, so I guess I should be what they want, shouldn't I?). I was handed a pair of the Haines silky sheer pantyhose, black, and after a little instruction on how to handle them without running the with my nails, hand or toe, managed to get into them. I really like hose better, but Marrisa had made it clear that these were mine, so I made the best of it. The second box also contained three sets of lingerie, half slips, matching camisoles, in black, white and beige. I was given the black half slip to put on. When I checked in the mirror, I was greeted with a young woman with short brown hair, very tousled, an adequate figure, maybe a little to thin, standing there in her under- things. Marrisa took my hand and lead me back to the makeup table and cleaned my face of Jessica's seductive pretty bitch face and removed my wonderful long dangling earrings. Then I was given a hair cut and suddenly I had bangs, and hot rollers. A quick brush out and then she was back over to the bed. She returned with the third box and handed it to me. Inside was an entire assortment of cosmetics. Marrisa spent the next hour teaching me to do my, Rikki's makeup. "Darling, first you clean your face, if you don't you'll break out and I, for one, don't like that in a girl. Next you use this concealer stick under your eyes, just to smooth every thing out. Now sheer beige foundation, cover girl. You really have pretty skin, your pores are almost female in size, that right blend it into the hairline, good. Now your eyeshadow, here this case has color coordinated tones that make it hard to make a mistake. Bronze on the eyelid, that right, not too much. Good! Now just a hint of mocha frost in the crease. Good, now for some soft blue liner, not so much that it oblivious, that's right. Do your brows with this brown pencil, give them a little more arch, just a little, very pretty. Now soft brown mascara, you have lovely lashes naturally, but this will make them fuller and a little darker. Good, your doing wonderful Rikki. After you've done this for a while, you'll be able to have your makeup on in 20 minuets flat. Now, put your lipstick on, here use this coral, use the brush, that right, now some powder, good that takes care of the tiny pore problem you might have. Well Rikki, how do you look?"

A very pretty young woman looked back at me, maybe 22, 23 years old, tastefully made up. Her short brown hair no longer look male, but more like a tinkerbell cut, the deep bangs somehow out of place, but framing her face most attractively. You could see girls like me every morning on our way to work, well after I put a dress and some shoes on that is. Marrisa brought over the fifth box and opened it to reveal a smiling wig head with a long, past shoulder length fall pinned to it. The fall matched my hair shade exactly and I was informed that it was human hair and needed to be cared for. I was shown how to maintain the soft curl and told exactly how to wash and set the long brown tresses. Marrisa showed me how to pin the fall in place and how to brush my short hair into place so that the effect was of a perfectly natural head of hair softly falling to just past my shoulders. I was then shown how to fix it in several becoming fashions. The last style was a soft upswept style that gathered the silky soft hair into a soft bun. The image that looked back at me from the mirror was me, but such a different me, where Jessica had been older, more glamorous, far more sophisticated, with Jessica full pouting lips, high sculpted cheekbones, pencil thin, arching brows and sparkling green eyes, this young woman's face was smaller, her brows far more natural, her hazel eyes gentle and doe like. While Jessica's face was bitchy, powerful, sexual, demanding, Rikki's was the face was the face of the bank's newest loan officer, hired because the bank president fantasized about fucking her while jerking off, the grade school teacher that her girl students (and maybe one or two of her boy students) wanted to grow up like and the principle could wait to fuck, the restrained, tasteful, educated, attractive look of a pretty yuppie all made up at her accomplished, professional best.

The last box on the bed was far to small for a dress, in fact it was only slightly larger then shoe box. In the box was a maroon clutch, and a red wallet. (ID1) I opened the wallet and was rewarded with by my transformed image smiling up at me from a Florida drivers license and a social security card. Opening the chic leather wallet further revealed an Mastercard, Visa, Exxon, Shell, Lerners, J.C. Penneys, Sears, Liberty House, and a lifetime membership card to the Holiday Spas, all made out to Ms. Rikki Angelika St. James. I was stunned to say the least. "There all real, the credit limits are $500.00 on the Visa and Mastercard, $300.00 on the rest, right now all have a zero balance charged on them, but your responsible for anything you buy. Your 23 years old and unmarried." In the box was an envelope, inside was a birth certificate, made out in the same name, a diploma from some place called Robert E. Lee High school and a second from Sarasota Community Collage showing that I'd acquired a Associates's of Art's Degree in Office Management. Also in the box was a thick folder. Shaken, I blurted out; "How ever did you get these? I mean this is all to much...." Marrisa cut me off; "Don't worry about that, just accept that any check will reveal that Rikki A. St. James is a very real person, in the folder is a bio that I would learn by heart if I were you. The bills from your credit cards will come to my house and you'll use that as an as an address and phone number for now. Get you things and come with me." Dumbly I picked up all of the boxes and followed Marrisa into Richard's, I mean my bedroom. She walked over by the closet and ordered; "Put the boxes on the bed and come here. Not knowing what else to do, neatly arranged the boxes (my roses on top of course and walked over to Marrisa. With no further explanation Marrisa opened the closet. My heart leap with joy. The far wall of the walkin closet was hung with beautiful clothes. One sweater and three blouses were first. The sweater was a wonderful white silk turtleneck. Then the blouses, one white silk shawl collared, one beige crepe with a bow tie neck, and a bright yellow cotton print. Hanging next to the blouses was a suit in a beautiful maroon. Further down was a black wool blazer jacket, followed by three skirts, gray wool, black linen and a soft pink cotton. Hanging next them was a black leather skirt with a matching black leather swing coat. The last hanger held a black and hot pink leotard set. On the floor were four pair of shoes. The first pair were black patent pumps with a three inch stacked heel. Next to the black pumps were a matching pair in maroon, followed by a pair in gray but with two inch heels. The last pair were Lady Nike aerobics workout shoes with hot pink socks in them. "Oh Marrisa, thank you...But Marrisa?" "Yes Rikki?"; "How can I hide all this?" Marrisa jerked my arm so that I faced her; "That bitch, is your problem. I'm getting tired of you always whining. Now, go get your maroon suit, the white silk blouse and your red pumps."

Twenty minuets later found me standing in front of Mothers floor length mirror, a perfect Yuppie princess. The suit fit like a dream, the collarless jackets slight peplem waist flared out gently over my slender hips to create the illusion on a more rounded figure. The skirt hung perfectly to just fractionally above my black nyloned knee. The shawl collar of the white silk blouse showed off just the slightest hint of cleavage. When I sat just exactly right the vent in the skirt allowed you just the barest of peeks at the frothy black lace trim on my slip. The three inch heels matched my suit just as my nails did. I wore a slim, gold Lady Seko wristwatch, gold studs in my ears (large enough to be noticed, small enough to be discreet.) and a small pin of crystal shards. I found my self comparing the image that smiled back at me to mother in her red power suit. In my mind I envied her fuller, sexier body, but all in all, I found Rikki more then attractive enough. Then for no reason that I could think of a new thought entered my mind. That other BITCH had no right to her wonderful body, she had no right to have closets full of sexy clothes. And Jessica's body was even better, younger, her breasts larger, her clothes even more daring. Why should those two cunts have everything while I was going to have to hide my pretty things. I felt myself grow excited at these awful thoughts. Then Marrisa's voice brought me back to reality. "Well Rikki, you look wonderful. Now since you look like such a lady, let's make sure you act like one." She rest of the day correcting the unladylike sins of omission and commission that I'd committed last night plus drilling me on my new femme per- sona. How to sit, gestures to make, walking, talking, holding my bag. My date of birth, what happened to my parents (an automobile accident two years ago.), my phone number, address, signing my name, do I have any brothers or sisters (no, I'm an only child.), relatives (none close, and none that I've seen in the last ten years.). Marrisa encouraged me to keep as many of Jessica's habits and manners. If I heard it once that afternoon, I heard it a hundred time, "Just do what Jessica would do."

Suddenly it was 7 P.M. and Marrisa was gathering up her things to leave. By now I was so horny that I didn't know what to do. I tried every trick in the world to get Marrisa to stay, but she simply kissed me, handed me a package and left. I smoothed my skirt under me and gracefully sat down on the couch to open the small box. Inside was another bottle of muscle relaxers, six 3 1/2 inch computer disks, a VHS video tape and huge, lifelike dildo of all things. I took everything back to Richards room, straightened Christina's room and got the video tape, wandered back into the family room and fixed myself a Gin and Tonic. I popped the tape into VCR and settled into the couch (being careful not to muss myself). The tape was a home style movie, staring my sister! Just as I had primped and preened while dressing last night, my sister was doing a encore, but while I'd been dressing in sexy, pretty clothes, Jessica was dressing in the tight, black latex super skin, of a dominatrix!

When the tape began, Jessica was already wearing a pair of highly shined black latex bikini panties and a matching bra. The effect against her white creamy skin was stunning. She had already made her face up, gleaming, wet, black eyeliner, glit- tering silver eyeshadow, hot pink blush and bright, bright red lipstick that matched her inch long nails. Her hair was fixed in a Gibson Girl styled bun and long dangling gold earrings. As I watched Jessica was making quit a production out of settling her beautiful, full breasts into the tight latex bra cups, I found myself becoming very excited by the vision of my sister in her fetish finery. When Jessica had her tits properly encased in the thin, clinging latex, she backed up a step and reaching to the chair behind her picked up a black latex waist cinch / garter belt (well I wasn't sure what it was, it looked to wide to be just a garter belt.) and began to struggle into it. When I said struggle, I meant it. The latex squeezed my sister's sexy body tight and she wormed her way into it. Watching her as she tugged and pulled the ultra-tight under garment on, I felt myself getting really very turned on, wanting release. I stood and unzipped the maroon suit skirt and carefully removed it, laying across the back of the couch. The skirt was instantly followed by my lacy black half slip. As Jessica finally got the waist cinch up around her waist and began to adjust it so that her garters hung down straight, I let my hand creep inside the waist band of my panty hose and began to massage my nasty boy thing through my both my silky panties and my gaff. After some very seductive pulling and tugging (mostly unnecessary, but I had to remember those moves, oh so sexy) the waist cinch's fit was, at last, to Jessica's liking. A wonderful, pouting smile on her face (one that I found myself imitating) Jessica backed up to the chair and picked up a pair of black latex hose. Sitting on the edge of the chair, Jessica picked up a can of talc and smoothed a generous amount on her shapely legs, the shook some more into the hose. Carefully rolling the super thin latex hose she slipped the pretty, painted toenails of her left foot into the hose. Ever so slowly, pausing every few inches to smooth and caress her new black rubber skin, Jessica allowed the unbelievably tight hose to encase her left leg, over her knee and all the way up to almost the top of her thigh. The performance was repeated with her right leg and as she stood to fasten the six garters that hung down her thighs, I found that I was rubbing myself ener- getically, trying to make myself cum. But while I was certainly excited, I couldn't cum, I wanted to, but I just couldn't. I could feel the squishy sensation of my pre-cum lubricating the inside of the gaff, feel the fullness in my tightly hidden balls, but the relief I want and needed wouldn't happen. When my attention returned to the screen Jessica was finished hooking the garters and was showing off to the camera. The hose fit her as if they had been sprayed on Jessica's shapely legs, there wasn't a wrinkle or seam to mar the highly shined black latex rubber. God, I wanted to cum! Jessica disappeared for a second and when she returned she had several items all hung neatly on hangers. Except for the fact that it was all latex, detail was impossible.

Details on the next item she picked up was impossible to miss. A perfectly shined black patent ankle high boot with the highest and slimmest spiked heel I'd ever seen in my life. Jessica slowly brought the boot up to her red pouting lips and slowly and gently let her pink tongue dart out to lick the pencil thin 7 inch stiletto heel. My sister was going through the motions of giving head to the impossibly high heel. I needed, wanted, to cum so bad as Jessica licked and sucked on the boots spiked cock. Both of my hands were down the front of the silky pantyhose, rubbing and squeezing my boy-thing, trying to give me the relief I needed. I couldn't make myself cum. I was trying to masturbate so hard and while my excitement grew, all that hap- pened was that my clitty cock remained semi-soft and my anguish grew. My sister transferred the boot from her ruby red lips to her black latex covered pussy, rubbing the toe against her clearly outlined cunt lips. Her motions became more and more frenzied as the boot was pressed harder and harder against her rubber covered twat. Jessica was moaning now, fucking her pussy with the sharply pointed toe of the black leather boot. I watched as Jessica brought herself to orgasm while her lips mouthed the words "Fuck me" over and over. And I wanted to, I wanted to make Jessica dress me in her sexy latex and I wanted my foot to be wearing the boot whose toe would be grinding into her pussy, while I made her suck my clitty-cock. I could image the thick white cum as it shot all over her made up face, dripping down on those huge breasts. I wanted to cum so bad, my ball ached with the need to spew my boy juice out. But relief still eluded me. After her orgasm (yes the bitch came and I didn't!) she collapsed back on the chair and picked up a black lace handkerchief and slowly wiped the boot's heel clean of lipstick and carefully pulled it on her dainty foot. It's mate quickly followed and both were laced tightly on.

When Jessica stood up, I realized that just walking in the obscenely spiked, scandalously high, heels was an art. Her steps were now short and mincing, her hips swaying erotically with every step. How could something that made you so very feminine and helpless also make you so overpowering and dominate? After the boots were on, Jessica slipped into a floor length black latex dress. The skirt to the dress was a-line and fell exactly to the toe of Jessica's boots. Every step revealed just a hint of the spiked heels hidden underneath. The dress had a high neck line and was skintight from the waist up, it's long sleeves fitting like a second skin. Jessica had a hard time getting the dress zipped up the back and I loved watching her struggle. (Why was that?) Then the dress was on and Jessica disappeared out of the camera's range. My need had now built to the point that I would have done anything for relief, when suddenly I remembered the dildo laying in the box on Richard's bed. I pulled my hands from my pantyhose and ran to get it. My 3 inch heels clicking wildly, I pushed open the door and grabbed at the 14 inch long rubber cock. Looking at it for the first time, I could see how wonderfully lifelike it was, with a huge, cut cockhead and large purple veins. The false cock ended in a pair of balls as I could see that it was hollow and was now filled with a vibrator. I ran to the bathroom and quickly coated the head with some vaseline and then, after pulling my pantyhose down squatted right there and forced the huge cock into my waiting ass. God it was so big, bigger even the Eric's huge tool. As the dildo slid into my back door I moaned and fumbled for the base of the vibrator. A turn and the soft buzz of the motor was lost on me as the tool began to shake and move. Further and further I shoved the wonderful dancing shaft into my bum hole. I wanted it all in me, I wanted to be filled with cock. Then it was in, shoved up as far as I could get it. I could feel the huge cock as it jiggled wildly inside of me. I stood and pulled my panties up and then my panty hose. Walking slowly with am ass pack full of dildo I returned to the living room. Ignoring the TV, I slowly and carefully I pulled on first the black half slip then the maroon suit skirt. After carefully tucking my white silk blouse in and zipping and buttoning the skirt. Walking very erect and trying to hold the dildo inside me, I walked to Mother's room and checked myself in the mirror. I was again the picture perfect Ms. Yuppie, all dressed in her power suited best, her smile fixed, her manicured fingers holding her purse demurely in front of her. I opened the purse, removed my lipstick and touched up my lips. Recapping the tube I dropped it back in my clutch and returned to the living room. Sitting down with my legs together, carefully crossed at the ankle, my purse held ladylike in my lap, I let my eyes return to the screen. The dildo hummed and buzzed in my ass as I watched Jessica pull on her right elbow length black rubber glove, her left already encased in shiny rubber. After her hands were gloved, she pulled the clinging rubber up over the sleeves of her dress. I was moving ever so discreetly, loving the feel of being filled with a huge dildo, being dressed in my refined suit, setting posed just so, to the world a perfect, urbane, virtuous Miss Yuppie but secretly a shameless slut, her ass filled with cock! As Jessica fastened a studded leather choker around her graceful neck with her rubber covered fingers I felt my clitty cock cum. The attractive young professional woman whose reflec- tion was superimposed over the latex clad dominatrix on the TV screen moaned softly as waves of pleasure flooded over her, but her sweet 'may I help you smile' never wavered and her carefully folded hands never moved.

Well, whatever do you make of this! Marrisa seem to have a new identity all ready for Richard / Rikki. And such a strange mix of dom / sub emotions seem to be flooding our budding shemale. And like the crew of the Enterprise, Rikki never seems to eat or go pottie (yes, I did notice, all by myself), but given the chance of being transformed, I'd give up eating, wouldn't you? What new adventures await in part 6?

****************************** This file came from Sierra Connection BBS Serving the Gender Community from Nevada 702-825-4220 8-N-1 28.8 VF (4 Nodes)

Home of the Fiction Story Writing Contest Home of the Gif Beauty Contest RIKKI6.TXT

TRADING PLACES - Part 6

By Ms. Desiree Foster

My orgasam left me feeling lightheaded, the dildo, still vibrating wildly, deep in my ass. As the pleasure slow subsided I realized that I was starving. A quick trip to the bathroom got my gaff cleaned up and the vibrator turned off. As I slowly removed the artifical cock I had an insperation. A quick trip to Mommie's bathroom yelded a tampon which replaced the giantic rubber cock and made my ass feel so nice. I returned to the living room and finished my drink, now sadly watered from the melted ice. Dinner, sigh, what to do? Somehow the idea of a Dommino's pizza just didn't feel right any more. I washed my highball glass and returned to the family room. The tape was over, so I removed it, and switched on CNN headline News. (why not MTV, NO! Rikki doesn't watch that simpleminded rot.) After going around the world in thirty minuits, I fixed my lipstick again, powdered my nose, took the money from Richard wallet, checked my purse, and called a taxi. As I waited for the taxi, I suddenly remembered Eric's note with the flowers. Walking back to the bedroom (god, my tampon made my ass feel good, all secret and full.) Opening the roses first, I realized that I needed a vase, so another long walk to first the family room, then the kitchen for water. (Giggle, I could have taken a beautiful vase from the guest bedroom, but I just loved the sound of my heels on the kitchen floor.) I carefully arranged the lovly roses and sat them next to my bed. Just looking at them made me feel so warm and loved. The scent brought back to me the wonderful memories of Eric's capable hands and there gentle strength as thay carressed me. I opened the embossed envelope and removed the card. Almost afraid to read it, I let my eyes fall to the persise script of the handwritten note.

Dearest Rikki

Words can't express the joy you've brought me.

Your a wonder. I have taken the liberty of making

arrangements for dinner and the opera on the 17th of

next month, please do me the honor of your marvelous

company.

My card includes my voice mail number,I hope your

answer will be 'yes'.

More then just your friend, yours;

Eric

My hearts pounding slowed. I carefully place the card in my purse and went to mommies's room for a pair of gloves and a wrap. I selected a black mink stole from her closet and a pair of black leather bracelet length gloves. To help conceal my nasty boy's adam's apple was Mommies's triple strand pearl choker. The pearls made my suit a little dresser, like the office look dressed up for evening. I was just finished going back to the living room for my purse when the sound of the taxi's horn made me jump. A quick check, shit no key, an almost disaster avoided, leave the light on, set the alarm, and out, the sound of the door shutting behind me furnished an exclamation mark to the click of my high heels.

I walked (confidently I hoped) to the taxi, opened the rear passengers side door and slid in. The driver, who looked Pakistani or Indian, asked "And where to Ma'am". I loved it! "Steak and Ale next to Northridge Mall." Yes Ma'am." He put the meter down and Rikki was off for the first time on her one. And why not I reflected I was suddenly a free female and 23 years old. I didn't miss my lost teen years at all. As we rode, I noticed Mastercard and Visa stickers, I didn't know taxi's took credit cards, but then I'd never paid for a taxi before. Well no sense in a credit card for a taxi ride (also I was afraid that the cards would turn out to be no good, I'm such a ditz sometimes.) The ride took twenty minuets and I handed the driver the extra twenty Mommies had left me for a movie. Since the fare came to 15.20 I found myself saying "Keep the change." Before Achmed the taxi driver (I couldn't pronounce the name on the license), could reply, I opened the cab door and found myself walking up to the restaurant's wide front door. I let the mink stole slip off my shoulders as I walked in. The waiting room was crowded. I could feel my pulse racing as I entered. The desire to turn and run back out was almost overwhelming. The it was like my darling Marrisa was whispering in my ear, "Your Rikki and your lovely, your a pretty young woman and everyone will accept you as just that." My pulse was still racing but I put on my pretty Yuppie smile and walked in.

"Welcome to Steak and Ale, how many for dinner tonight Miss." The hostess smiled at me, and I found myself smiling back, "Just one tonight. Smoking please." She looked up at me, her pen poised on her pad. "R. St. James." It sounded wonderful to say that. "It will be about 45 minuets wait, would you like to wait in the lounge Ms. St.James?" "Yes, thank you." I decided that if this delicious creature in the pretty hostess ensemble, the long black skirt and Victorian blouse, bought Rikki St. James then I hoped so would every one else.

As I entered the lounge I looked in vain for an out of the way seat. Damn, damn, damn! The only seat open was at the bar, right next to the waitress station. Well if I'm going to sit down, I might as well sit down in the only well lit spot in the whole damn lounge and draw just as much attention to myself as humanly possible. As I made my way to that awful, hateful stool (it was grinning as I approached), I caught myself desperately looking for a empty table, any place but under that double dammed arc light (well it seemed like an arc light to me, and this situation did have a little stress built in, and unlike last night, I didn't have Marrisa's moral support or Jessica's animal body going for me.) I'd just about made it when I felt a hand on my arm. My body went ridged and I almost pee'ed my panties! (another draw back of that dammed gaff. Going pee pee, pottie pottie was the pits.) A soft woman's voice spoke softly from right behind me. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you my dear, I was, I mean I saw you looking for either someone or some place to sit. If your alone, I was wondering if you'd perhaps you'd care to join me? As she spoke I turned and found myself facing a lovely older woman, perhaps, 45 years old. She was dressed in a perfectly tailored gray wool suit with a cream silk man tailored blouse that set of her voluptuous, mature body perfectly. Her lustrous jet black hair was a done up in a rather severe upswept style. Her jewelry was a simple pair of pearl studs and a single strand of perfect pearls around her throat. Her makeup was tasteful and just a little understated. All in all she looked like what she obviously was, a very successful business woman. I smiled and tried to think of what to say, when suddenly I found myself blurting out, "Yes thank you, I was afraid that I end up sitting at the bar." She smiled in return, "I know exactly what you mean. Why is it that if you sit at the bar, every male in the bar feels that the only reason your there is so they can try to pick up." As she spoke she gently steered me the three steps to her table. Once we sat down, the cocktail waitress appeared and I ordered a gin and tonic. I opened my purse as I ordered, as I was sure that the waitress would card me, but she just smiled and turned towards the bar. To cover up I took my cigarette case out and asked "Do you mind if I smoke?" She rewarded me with a smile; "How delicious, a young woman who smokes, orders gin and has the nerve to wear mink. Your refreshingly non politically correct. No, my dear, I don't mind. My name is Madaline." As she introduced herself, she held out her hand and I took it in what I hoped was a totally feminine handshake. "I'm Rikki." "Tell me Rikki what is a lovely young thing like you doing here alone on a saturday night?"

We fell to talking and after another round of drinks, Madaline invited me to join her for dinner. It was wonderful, she accepted me totally. She put me completely at ease, and I found her a charming person. She was a vice president in charge of credit for a nationally known bank and worked 12 to 15 hours a day 6 days a week. She was divorced and lived with her sixteen year old daughter. I ended up telling her Rikki's life story and I added a few details that weren't in the bio. I also gave myself a job, self employed as a management consultant (well it sounded good). After dinner, over coffee, sherry and cigarettes (She smoked to, she said it helped her stay sane.), Madaline asked me if I was driving home, as I'd had cocktails, wine with dinner and two sherries. I told her that I'd come by cab and was going home the same way, three inch heels aren't for hiking. Madaline offered to give me a lift, and I accepted. On the way out Madaline retrieved her coat, a beautiful ankle length mink and we went out to the parking lot. Her car was a top of the line Mercedees and I was suitable impressed. As I entered the car I was overcome by the rich leather smell. Once out of the parking lot, Madaline asked if I'd mind if she swung by her house first. I said that no of course I wouldn't mind. She live in the Chatsworth hills on a huge lot and her house was set back off the street, the last house, only house, on a cul-de-sac. After she beeped the security gate open and disarmed the alarm, Madaline asked if I'd like to see the house. I agreed and we went in. Her house was like her, tasteful, elegant, understated and very, very reserved.

After what she call the two dollar tour, Madaline offered me a glass of wine and as we sat and talked she told me that she had approached me in the resturant because I reminded her of her last roommate, a woman who had worked for her as an assistant. I asked if her what had happened. Madaline looked very sad for a second; "She died in an auto accident." "I'm so sorry." I felt like a fool for having asked. "That's quite alright, I'm over it. She didn't have any family and she became almost like one of the family. Melinda, my daugter, took it far harder then I did. Melinda is such a high strung girl who requires disipline and my assistant turned out to be exactly what both she and I needed." As she spoke of Melinda, she showed me a picture of her daughter. The resemblence was striking. At 16 her daughter already had her mother full, completly female body and, like her mother had long black hair. As I looked at the photo, Madaline asked me if I minded if she changed into something a little more comfortable before taking me home.

As Madaline walked back to her bedroom I stood and sipping on the cold white wine and browsed the titles of the leather bound books on her bookshelf. It seemed to be taking Madaline a long time to change, but I enjoyed the wine and was amazed at the range and serious nature of the books in her collection. I was so absorbed that I didn't hear Madaline come up behind me. "Rikki, please turn around dear." Her voice, so calm and assured before had taken on an little girl quality. I slowly turned to face my hostess. "Madaline!"; I blurted out. She was wearing a white satin robe, tightly belted around the lush body. The soft, shimmering white satin contrasted with the shinning black hair that fell down her back almost to her waist and with the black satin which gloved her hands, black seamed hose the just peaked opt from under the ankle length hem and, most especially, with the black patent leather pumps whose 7 inch spiked heels made Madaline just fractionally taller then I. Her tasteful makeup was gone, replaced with lots of pancake, hot pink blush, cherry red lipstick, long black false eyelashes and loads of blue eyeshadow. In her hand, Madaline carried a long handled silver hairbrush. She wouldn't meet my eyes as I reached out and untied the satin belt to her robe. I pulled the robe off her shoulders and let it drop in a gleaming pile on the floor. Under the robe Madaline wore a black satin and white lace french maid's uniform. The neckline was cut so that the black satin corset that crushed Madaline's waist was visible. The corset also pushed her large, heavy breasts up into slut lovely mounds, the dark brown areolae and half of her inch long nipples clearly exposed. Under the slinky black satin uniform's ultra short skirt frothy white lace petticoats held her skirt out so that her garter tabs showed at her slightest movement. Her short, puffed sleeves were edged in white lace along with the uniforms neck and the hem of her skirt. A short white satin apron was tied around Madaline's tightly corseted waist. I let my eyes travel over the sexy, slut image the older woman had magically transformed herself to. All trace of the bank vice president was gone, only her pearl studs and necklace remained. I reached out with my right hand and gently raised her head so that her eyes met mine. As my hand touched her chin, her entire body shivered and the eyes that met mine were filled with equal parts of fear, lust, and helpless need.

As I looked into her lovely face, I wondered what I should do, I liked her and I wanted very much to please her. I'd never been with a woman, well not a woman with a pussy. I realized that she wanted me to be dominate, but I wasn't sure how to be that way. Madaline must have seen the uncertainly in my eyes and she misinterpreted that for disapproval. "God I'm sorry, I don't know what I could have been thinking. I'll drive you home or call a taxi. Please believe me, I didn't mean to upset you, I'm so sorry, please." Tears welled up in her doe brown eyes. Her entire body was shaking and her black satin gloved hands made to touch my arms but fell back over and over. I simply couldn't understand the emotions that I felt right then. I wanted her clothes, the sexy, skimpy, subservient maids uniform, the soaring spiked heels, the waist crushing corset and the silky black hose. More then that I wanted her tits, the sight of her full, mature breasts spilling out of the corsets french cups and overflowing her low cut black satin bodice made my clitty-cock stir inside it's latex prison. But even more then that, I wanted to please her, to have her like me, need me, want me. Madaline's face was a sight now, tears running down her heavily made up cheeks and her hands fluttering helplessly. "Please Rikki, I'm so sorry." she sobbed over and over, her body trembling. I slapped her.

Reaching out I took the silver hairbrush from her hand, and in what I hoped was a properly stern tone said; "Your a mess Madaline, go fix your face and then get your pussy back out here. And my glass is empty, your being very bad. You seem to have forgotten how to perform. My god Madaline, sometimes your so stupid I can't believe it." As I spoke her face transformed from fear to hope to a almost radiant glow of expectation. Her relief was a physical thing. She curtsied to me and smiling said; "Yes Madam, I'm sorry. I'll get your wine and make myself presentable at once." She started to turn then turned back, "You won't be sorry darling, I promises." With that, she turned with a flurry of her stiff lace petticoats and went to fulfill my orders. Within seconds she was back with a fresh, cold glass of perfectly chilled chablis. I took just the tiniest of sips and watched as her lush, swaying hips disappeared into the bedroom.

Having her redo her makeup gave me time to think, what should I do, and how in god's name was I to do it. Finally I opted for the simplest and most direct answer, I would simply do unto Madaline exactly what I now constantly fantasized of Marrica doing to me. I took another sip and reflected that if I didn't think this would be fun, my boy thing did. Hefting the heavy, wide, brush in my left hand and sipping from the glass in my right I gave her a few minuets then followed her into her bedroom. She sat with her back to me a beautiful Victorian dressing table reapplying her cherry red, slick, wet looking lipstick. As I approached she smiled at my reflection in the mirror as I dropped the heavy brush on the down comforter that covered the king sized bed. I let her re-cap the lipstick tube and when I stepped up behind he as she sat and put my arm around her shoulders and sat my glass on the table in front of her. She tried to stand, but I pushed her back down. As I stood behind her, I smiled and was rewarded with a lovely smile in return. "You look lovely, just like the cheep slut you are."; I purred. "Tell me dear, what's your name?" The look of amazement was delicious! "Why Madaline Mistress, why?" I cupped her huge tits in mt hands and pushed the now rock hard nipples out of her bodice. "Now, now my pretty, little slut, never, never ask me questions, after all I always know best, don't I dear." "Yes Mistress, I'm sorry." I let my fingers gently grasp her inch long, brown, hard nipples and began to squeeze. "A mistress is a kept woman, a whore, is that what I am darling?" "Oh no, I'm sorry, please Ma'am, your none of those things." That right, now did you know that your wrong, your not Madaline, she's a beautiful, cultured woman, very powerful, a Harvard MBA, vice president at a major bank, a success. Your none of those things, your a stupid, worthless cunt. Your nothing but a mindless tramp, a toy. In fact you don't even deserve a name, just a letter, let's see....Dee, as in d for a dumb, dirty ditz. Now what's your name?" As I spoke in quite, gentle tones, I twisted her nipples harder and harder. "Dee Ma'am, my name is Dee." "And whose bedroom is this Dee?" "Madaline's Ma'am." What are you doing at Madaline's dressing table Dee?" "Making up my face like you told me Ma'am" I twisted hard, pulling Dee to her feet. "Don't you ever use that tone with me bitch!" I screamed. I let go with my left hand and using my right pulled the now moaning french maid towards the huge king sized bed. "Your a bad girl Dee, arn't you." Yes, oh yes Ma'am, I'm a very bad girl!" And what should I do with you, you nasty thing." "Bad girls should be spanked, please Ma'am, I need to be spanked." And Dee is not allowed in Madaline's room is she?" "No I'm not, please spank me for that to." "And Dee is going to have her own room from now on, one that just like Dee, a room that just looking at it, everyone will know just what kind of cunt Dee is. Right Dee?" Yes, yes, a room just like Dee." I pick up the long handled, heavy silver brush, and pulled Dee across my skirt, and pushing up her fluffy petticoats notced that she wasn't wearing any panties. The first real pussy I'd every seen was there, helpless, waiting, her neatly trimmed bush showing off her pink cunt lips. I took the brush and stoked her pussy lips with the stiff brissles of the brush. I was rewarded with a loud moan form the slut who lay passivly across my lap. Suddenly I felt the power I had, this bitch wanted me to use her and I could. I rubbed the brush a little harder and she moaned louder. "Are you a bad girl?" "Yes, oh yes Ma'am, a very bad girl!" I brought the back of the brush down on her exposed derrier, not with any real force, but the reaction was as spectatulure as it was unexpected. "Oh Yes, spank my worthless whore's ass!" She screamed, "Spank me hard, make me pay for being a bad girl!" I brought the brush down harder and harder as she squrimed and moaned with each stoke. "That's right, spank me, spank my ass, I'm a bad girl, I'm bad, spank me hard, make me be a good girl, make me be good. Yes, Yes, YES, YES!!! Spank my ass, spank Dee's ass, make Dee a good girl!" Her ass cheeks now glowed a deep cherry red that matched her lipstick as I felt my clitty- cock growing more and more excited inside my gafe. Almost from outside myself I head my voice; "Bad bitch, bad Dee, your a bad bitch. Dee has to be punished, doesn't she, beg bitch!" Yes, Dee's a bad bitch, spank bitch Dee's ass! Please! Harder, HARDER! YES! I'm cumming, oh fucking god spank my butt, make me cum, make Dee cum! OH YES! YES, YES, YES!!!!!" Her entire body spasamed with her orgasm. As her body shook and she screamed 'YES!' over and over, I trasfered the brush from her ass to rub her sopping pussy. The meer touch of the brushes handle on her wet cunt caused her to orgasm again. As I slipped the handle into her grasping cunt, Dee began to beg, "Yes, please fuck me, fuck Dee, fuck Dee's cunt, Dee needs to be fucked, fuck me good, use Dee's pussy." I jammed the brush deep into the now quaking woman's pussy and no longer able to contain my need, shoved her off my lap and into a satin heep at my feet. I pushed up my skirt and pulled my panty hose down and released my clitty-cock from the confining gaf. The woman at my feet gasped; "Your a man!" I slapped her, hard this time." "Bitch!" My voice was silky, like satin covered steel; "I am a real woman! You think that just becuse you were lucky enough to be born with a cunt, that your special. Well your not, unlike you, I'm a woman with a penis! I'm a woman who has a wonderful, powerful secret, instead of a nasty girl hole, I have a sweet clitty-cock." Reaching down I grasped a handfull of her soft silky black hair and pulled her to her knees between my nyloned legs. "Now bitch, kiss it, kiss my clitty-cock!" I pulled her head towards my hard on, loving the feeling of power. Her lips came close and then gently she kissed the head of my pre-cum soaked cock. "I'd forgotten how good boy-cum tastes!" She moaned. She started to take my cock into her mouth but I pulled her head back. "I'm your perfect girlfriend aren't I?" I asked softly. Her cheeks blushed bright under her hot pink rouge. "Yes. Your my dream lover, a beautiful woman with a beautiful cock." I stood, pulling her to her feet. Holding my skirt away from my cock; "And what should I do to you with my clitty-cock." "Fuck me with it, fuck my nasty girl cunt with your wonderful woman's meat." I turned her around and shoved her towards the chair in front of the vanity. Once there I commanded, "Spread your legs whore!" As my slut maid bent over and grabbed the chair I stepped up behind her and let the head of my cock touch the lips of her sopping pussy. "Oh yes Ma'am, please use my pussy, please fuck me. I haven't been fucked in so long, my pussy need's my wonderful lady's big, hard cock! Please Ma'am, fuck me with your cock." I pulled her hair so that her head turned towards the full length mirror that stood next to the vanity. The reflection almost made me cum, I saw a attractive young woman dressed in a beautiful, conservative maroon suit standing with her tailored skirt shoved up to her thighs, her panty hose pulled down to her hips, with her hard, throbbing cock in her hand. The Yuppie bitch stood behind her maid, her penis rubbing up against the scantly dressed servants wet, dripping snatch. As I watched my pretty yuppie slowly slid her cock into her maid's waiting slit. The feeling was fantastic! I'd always wondered what my very first time would be like, well my first time putting my girl-meat into girl pussy. I'd never believed that it would be with a seductive, voluptuous older woman whose taste ran to being dominated by a lesbian lover. I slid my cock in as deep as I could, until I could feel my balls up against her upper cunt lips. "Don't move bitch." Dee was starting to move her hips forward, trying to fuck. She stopped at once, but was now moaning over and over; "Please Ma'am, I need it." Only when I felt her whimpering need was at it's deprived height did I softly whisper, "Fuck my woman's cock bitch." Madaline's hips began to move at once, one, two, three smooth pelvic strokes and the her body began to twitch with the force of her approaching orgasm. As my submissive slut began to beg "Fuck me PLEASE!", I began to slid my wonderful clitty-cock in and out of her now dripping hole. Suddenly her pussy contracted around my straining, erect pole as her whole body shook and she screamed out "Yes, Oh fucking god yes" Her satin covered hand were fluttering helplessly as I buried myself in her war wet pussy and shot my sweet cum deep inside her. We stood, just as we had started, motionless, both our breaths now coming in shallow panting gasps. In the mirror I watched the perfect picture of lady and her maid.

Once I had regained my composure, slowly withdrew my cum soaked cock from her cum dripping pussy. I stepped back still holding my skirt carefully out of the way. "Turn around D for dolly." I ordered. She turned, her face a mask of concupiscent wanton need. On you knees D for Dummy. Slowly she sank to her black nyloned knees in front of me. I forced my now semi-soft cock into her face. "Lick it clean D for dolt." I commanded as I rubbed my sloppy wet prick over her heavily made up face. She obeyed like the submissive whore she really was. Only when I was happy and my cock free of the sticky, thick white cum did I return my secret to it's hiding place and straightened my clothes.

"Now Dee, I'm going to let you pretend to be Madaline again. When you come back out of here, you'll act like Madaline, but you'll always remember that it's just a act, your really Dee, my pretty maid slut. Do you understand?" She smiled and curtseyed as she answered "Yes Ma'am, I'm Dee, but now I can pretend to be power bitch Madaline, thank you Ma'am."

I picked up my wine glass and returned to the living room. As I took a tiny sip of wine, I reflected that since my first time in a dress, I'd gone from a shy, introverted, dork of a virgin (but third board at my chess club) to having a steady boy friend (well I had hopes for Eric, lost my clitty-cocks, my bum and everyplace else you could give or receive pleasure virginity acquired a whole new identity and lastly fucked a woman old enough to be my mother (fucking my mother? No! what a horrid sick though!). The Windsor clock on the mantle said 3:30 A.M. Goodness, doesn't time fly when your having cum.

Well, Rikki's horizon's are certainly widening at a quick rate. Being (when it suits me) truthful, this episode was far and away the hardest. Madaline slipped from Dom to sub and back several time, but as in all the stories I've read, there's never been a younger dom TV, so blithely ignoring the oblivious (no one is interested in a younger dom TV) I plunge happily and dumbly ahead. Should Madaline return and what of her daughter (I have plans for everyone)? Eric seems to be more then a one-night stand and what of Marrisa? Can Rikki's mother really be so blissfully ignorant of the changes and the conveniently never there Monica and what secrets lurk in Jessica's basement. I hope to see you for part 7 of 3!

****************************** This file came from Sierra Connection BBS Serving the Gender Community from Nevada 702-825-4220 8-N-1 28.8 VF (4 Nodes)

Home of the Fiction Story Writing Contest Home of the Gif Beauty Contest RIKKI7.TXT

Welcome back as Rikki's path to becomeing a she-male continues. Alas, I've decided to push Rikki's schedual up. This short story is fast getting out of hand. I hope that no one (assumeing someone is still reading this) minds too much.

TRADING PLACES - Part 7

By Ms. Desiree Foster

The ride back to my house was strangely quite. While Dee was recreating Madaline I looked into what was obviously Madaline home office. There was a locked video cabnet in one corner and a few seconds work with a hairpin (one of the few talents that had endeared Richard to his male pals) and I looked at a jumble of tapes. All were labled 'Home Movies' and in total disarray. Suddenly, on impluse I took one. My heart was pounding so hard that I just knew I looked guilty. I droped the tape in my purse and resumed looking at Madaline's libary. When Madaline reapeared, she gave no hint that anything at all had happened, indeed, if it wasn't for the white satin robe laying on the plushly carpeted floor, I would have thought the entire episode a dream. The ride home was quite, I wasn't sure what to make of it. Was she unhappy with me, had I not been what she wanted? I hoped I was. I mean, my goal in life was to be exactly the kind of girl others want me to be. When we arrived, Madaline gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and with out a word place an envelope in the outer pocket of my purse. I got out and watched the Mercedee's taillights as thay disappeared. While I loved the feel of Madaline's pussy, I wasn't sure if I like being dominate. I was certenly more work!

I unlocked the door, turned off the alarm replaced Mommie's mink and gloves then wandered back to Richard's room (I had more and more trouble thinking of this room as mine). My back hurt (probaly from my hours in heels) and my chest was even more sore the usual. I took a couple of the musule relaxers, undressed, carefuly put my suit away, washed out my pantyhose and gaff and cleaned off my makeup (got'ta take care of my complexion. A girl like me know her face is her strongest selling point. What a strange thought?) Finnished with house keeping, I climbed into bed, as I put my headphones in and punch the play button. The tension I felt was washed away in the soothing music of Maiden Songs II as I drifted off to sleep

It was after 12 when I woke up. After a long hot shower, getting my leg and underarms shaved (a royal pain, but I loved feeling all smooth and silky.) I wrapped a towel around my chest and wandered into the kitchen and started a pot of coffie. I needed to find some place to put my thing, but where. God what a fucking pain. I poured my coffie and popped a couple of the mussele relaxers and tried to think. I picked up my coffie and wandered back towards my bedroom, as I went down the hallway, there sitting on the table next to the front door was my purse, SHIT! Thank god no one Monica or Mommies dearest hadn't shown up. I picked up the purse and noticed the envelope. Once back in my room I opened the envelope, inside was Madaline's business card with her home phone and a hand written note 'Call me please!'. The note was signed 'Dee' The envelope also contained five one hundred dollar bills. My first reaction was to call that bitch and tell her that I wasn't that kind of girl, but that was quickly replaced with the strangest of feelings, what was wrong with being that kind of girl. I looked at the money and then opened my purse and slipped the bills into my wallet. $600.00, more cash then I'd ever had at one time. Richard wallet yielded up another $23.00 and a single Trojan that I kept to show off to Richard's nerd friends at school. Goodness. I pulled on a pair of panties, followed by jeans (goddamm these pants were getting tight in the ass and loose in the waist.) and a black tee shirt. I went out and froze my ass off getting the paper. First the funnies then the fashion section. As I drooled over the fashion section, an insert called 'Apartment Finders' caught my eye. I picked it up and started to leaf through it. "MOVE IN SPECIAL - LARGE ONE BEDROOM - FURNISHED." I picked the section up and unfolded it. "Spacious one bedroom $495.00/m, all utilities included, pool." The address was only a half mile away. Suddenly I had an idea. I stripped and got my face done and my fall on. Richard was gone and Rikki was reborn. I started to dress, the suit, blouse, pantyhose and pumps. This time I opted for Monica's black wool coat and Mommies's gloves. I grabbed my purse and had a sudden flash of awesome insight. Neighbors can be very nosey and just what I don't need is one of them telling Mommies about this good looking bitch parading her ass out of here a 1 P.M. I called a taxi. The fare was $5.70 (it was $4.00 to open the cab door and get in). Then, there I was, being shown an apartment by a kindly older man (a Mr. Rogers, who couldn't keep his eyes off my ass). It had taken me a little bit to find the live in managers apartment, the place was huge, maybe 200 to 300 units all two story and spread out over several acres. He looked about sixty, trim and sweet, kind of a grandfather type. His wife was an unpleasant 300 pound mess, sitting there with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth dressed in polyester pants and a polyester housecoat watching a video tape of the PTL club. (God why do women do that to themselves, if I been lucky enough to be born with a wonderful pussy instead of my boy-thing, I'd kill myself to stay pretty and attractive!) It turned out that the place cost $495 plus a one month security deposit, damn! I explained that I'd just moved here from florida and was staying with a friend and that this was the first place I'd looked. Then I told him that I really didn't plan on renting until I had a little more money. As he showed me the place, he kept rubbing up against me and touching my arm and back. He explained that this was the display apartment that the owners (who were a dental investment group from Milwaukee) allowed him to keep to show to potential tenants. I mentioned that I was often out of town for a week or more at a time. As I told him this outrageous lie he brushed against my thigh. I suddenly had a flash. I moved so my thigh pressed back firmly against his crotch. I could feel his erection. As he stepped back stammering, I turned to face him. 'You nasty boy, pressing that great big hardon up against my ass! Do you like good looking Yuppie's like me? I'll just bet you do. I'll bet you sit in your apartment every morning watch us go to work in our sexy suits and our high heels, sit there playing with your prick and wishing you could fuck one of us. Don't you?" "Miss St. James, I never...." I stepped up close to him and took his wrists in my leather gloved hands and pulled him to me. In my heels I was as tall as he was and I looked straight into his almost panic stricken eyes. "You get your thrills brushing up against the women when you can and looking at them. God know that if I was a man, I'd look to. Your wife has let herself go. Be honest with me (This dom stuff was coming easier, god being a pretty girl was pure power!) you'd give anything to fuck me. I'll bet you wife doesn't ever talk like that. In fact I'll bet there's lots of things that your wife doesn't do." His breath was coming in little gasps now. "Now tell Ms. St. James, how many apartments are empty?" "Eight"; he stammered. "And now tell Rikki which one is the furthermost from yours. "This one, it's the longest way from everything, it's why we keep it for show, it never rents." I let my gloved hand slid down his chest, down to his stomach, then gently down to his crotch. "I like this apartment. All you have to do is show the others and leave this one alone. In return, just every so often, I can make it a wonderful day in Mister Rogers Neighborhood." "I couldn't do that, I mean...." His protest was cut off by his moan as I let my hand unzip his fly. I slipped my hand into his pants, his erection warm and hard in my hand. "Yes you could, that sow your married to doesn't take care of her man. The dentist's that own this place are getting rich on tax breaks and all your getting is a free apartment and a few bucks a month. Now baby, do something for yourself. I get a free apartment and, say every wednesday afternoon, I'll make your dreams cum true. No more looking and wishing, locking yourself in the bathroom and jerking off, while that bitch your married too snores her fat ass off. Have you ever been sucked off, no you haven't, I can tell." My free hand opened my purse and remove the Trojan. Letting go of his hard on I watched his eyes go wide as I made a production of opening it (with ALLOT of lip licking.) His reaction was so cute that I almost giggled. As is slowly rolled the latex condom over his cock, I looked deep into his eyes. "You've dreamed about this haven't you, well baby, I'm your dream girl. You've got way to nice a cock to waste beating off. Your wife never talks dirty does she, no she just talks mean. Well sweetie, there's a difference, when I say fuck, it means pleasure, making you feel good. You really are big, I love older men with big cocks, my boyfriend isn't any bigger then you are and he's huge. Now baby, would you like me to suck that great big tool of yours, take that great big hardon of your into my pretty mouth and make you cum. Well daddy, shall your little girl make daddies cock cum?" The daddy was exactly the right button. His eyes lit up as he gasped; "Oh yes, daddy would love that, please god yes!" Never letting my eyes leave his, I slowly sank to my knees, holding his condom covered prick in my hands. "I love you daddy and I love my daddy's cock." As I kissed the head of his cock, I slowly ran my hands down the shaft, and cupped his balls in my right hand. "And can Rikki live here Daddy?" "Oh yes! Please!" His assent was 1% permission and 99% prayer. As I slowly took him in my mouth, still looking in his eyes (worshipfully I hoped), Richard's mind screamed WHORE! But Rikki's whispered YES!" The feel of the latex condom was strange, almost unpleasant (I missed the cum taste, but these days, you have to be careful.) but my delight in his pleasure soon over came my dislike of the rubber. It took more saliva then usual but soon I had his entire cock in my mouth. I loved it's feel, sliding his hardon deep into my throat the out till just the tip was between my lips, glaceing down at the lipstick smeared rubber then up at the panting, gasping landlord whose tool I was working. His hands were fluttering at his sides, desperate to touch me stroke my silky fine hair, to hold my head as my lips brought him pleasure that until now I'm sure he only dreamed of. "God"; I thought; "What a sweet cock to waste on a fat bitch who doesn't even know how to please her man." Well if she didn't, I sure did. I gently squeezed his heavy, hairy, cum filled balls with my gloved left hand while my right thumb rubbed the base of his cock. I increased the pace of my hands while sucking him deep in my mouth, then out. I felt his balls harden as he began to cum, so I let his cock escape my lips and begged him, "Cum for me daddy, let your little girl have your cum. My left hand was stroking his balls while my right brought him to a crashing climax. His eyes rolled up till nothing but the whites showed, his breath coming in wild pants, his body shaking like a man with fever, his hands waving wildly, wanting to touch me, but afraid. As he came I slipped my lips over the head of his prick, biting gently and moaning between my cock stuffed lips. He staggered back and I reached behind him and steadied him with my right hand as pluseing jet after milky jet of thick cum filled the rubber to near bursting. Then in a gasping breath I heard "I love you Rikki." as poor Mr. Rogers collapsed backward onto the couch, his empty balls still trying to cum.

I left the Sun Palms apartments (The best in all adult living) with the key to apartment 172A in my purse along with my $600.00

First Interlude

The store, well pawn shop, was in one of the worst parts of LA. The man behind the counter reguarded the stylish, model type who stood before him. "You have it?" Her voice was velvet covered steel." "Yah, you got the fucking money, $500.00, nothing bigger then a twenty." Her right hand was already in her shoulder bag, so he was suprised when she reached across her shapley body and removed a large white envelope. As she did, he cought sight of the gun. "Shit" he thought "This bitch don't play" The black, heavy shape was a 10mm Glock 20. The envelope hit the counter top with a heavy thud. He counted the used bills quickly and then shoved the gun case over the counter to the woman, his 'I could knock some off for some.' remained, wisely, unspoken. "It's everything you asked for." She smiled; "It better be." Without a word she opened the case, smiled, closed the case, blew him a kiss and in a haze of Chanel, was gone.

Rikki's world settled into a happy daze, Wednesday, after school, Mr. Rogers little girl made her daddy's big thing happy. He turned out to be a kind and gentle man and began to bring me presents that I'm sure he couldn't afford and needless to say I got new carpet and furniture courtesy of some dental group I'd never see to thank. I paid my own phone and bought a TV and VCR. Madaline turned into Dee on a bi-monthly basis and every session (which were getting very, very kinky) widened my horzons futher. Eric, whenever he was in town (which was, unfortunately rarely), became more and more of a steady thing. The constant was Marrisa. Her support and love kept me able to balance what was becoming an impossible juggling act. Mommy dearest was out of town a lot working on some movie or the other and Monica was getting lots of overtime due to a chronic shortage of nurses willing to work that far from the city. If either one of those two had been home more, I'd have been found out at once. As it was haveing Mommie dearest around was bad enough. While Rikki's life was going well, Richards was the pits. The closer graduation got, the more Mommie complained about my lack of direction. She finaly came out and said the in September she planed to send me to a college prep type school. One of those intense junior collage's that get you ready for the big time. She made sure everyone knew this and everyone accepted it as a given and told me how lucky I was. Mom had recived an offer to do the costumes for a movie in Australia during August, but told me that she'd be back by the first of September and that we'd have a three week vacation in Mexico before I was shiped off to where ever this shool was. Monica said that it was best to do what Mommie said and not to worry.

Marrisa always showed up in her Kathy Ireland look now, and I was Jessica only for Eric. Strangely I never even listened to the other tapes Marrisa gave me, but found that I couldn't sleep without my headphones softly playing to jazz sounds of Maiden Songs to me. I was eating the muscle relaxers at a rate that had me worried about being addicted. I didn't have gym (but I did have a both a nordic-trak and a versa-climber in my apartment) this year so my budding breasts and widening hips were never noticed under the baggy sweatshirt and pants that I constantly wore. My facial and body hair slowly went the way of the dodo thanks to electrolysis courtesy of Marrisa. While Richard became more and more of a unmissed non-entity both around the house and at school, I also began to become just a little unhappy with Rikki. More and more even the name Rikki seemed too close to Richard (god how I hate that name) and the cookie jar on top of the fridge fridge in MY apartment now held well over 3000.00 in tips from Mr. Rogers (who was helplessly in love with me.) and from Madaline (who had a need to pay.) for her sessions.

Second Interlude

"Surveillance tapes, phone tapped, house bugged, where she goes, who she sees, when she pee's and what color. Look, I don't want to know why your interested in some hooker, but this bitch's house is like Fort fucking Knox. I can do it, but it's fucking going to cost, $1000.00 a day, thirty day minimum. That's $30,000, half up front. Look, it's none of my business, but this is big bucks. If this starts to go sour, I'm gone, everything gets burned, erased, wiped, and you don't get shit back, OK."

Graduation and goodbye to high school. To say that I was relived was an understatement. God how I hated it, having to pretend to be Richard 7 hours a day. With graduation came three things, first from Mommies dearest, a car, a new Volkswagen Jetta, even thought the title was in her name (insurance she said). My second present from Mommies dearest was an unending load of shit on what to do with my life and how to go about it. Third, from Monica another truckload of grief when Mom was around on how I was such a disappointment to Mommie. If I heard Monica say; "She got you the car and all you do lay around and do nothing, your grades stank and you have no plans at all. Why can't you be more like your sister. If you were more like her, everything would be fine."; once, I heard the speech a thousand times. On the upside, first, my all of my bras were getting very tight and I was filling out my small wardrobe nicely. Second, when it was just Monica and me, she was sweet and told me not to worry about what I was going to do. She said that before summer was over, she was sure that I would find the direction I needed to take in my life. Her flip flop had be thinking that her criticism was more to make Mom happy and that she really wanted things to work out for me.

I already had the keys to Jessica's house, but lacked the chance to go over and help myself to the pleasure of her lovely things. Jessica had always been cool and aloft towards me (well to be honest, she was that way with everyone) but since school was over, even more so. It seemed as if she wanted to rub her success in, constantly reminding everyone that at 18 she was making $75,000 dollars a year as a model, while I was making nothing. Well I was still 17, so I felt the analogy somewhat unfair.

Then it happened, my first real test I guess. I'd just finnished 'paying my rent' when the door to the apartment burst open. Waddleing in all her polyester glory was Mrs. Rogers, who christian name was Burtha, apt. Of course her ire was directed at me first. "You filthy whore (not true, I always keep myself kissing sweet, giggle), Jezabael, (again not true, I wasn't trying to get any one to worship Bael, only me!), slut. (well she had me there.) Poor Ernest tried to get his pants up and only suceeded in falling down. I was up and over to the door in a flash. No since in upseting the neighbors! She pulled herself up to her full 5'1" and tried to slap me. All my working out had not only given me a killer body, but made me very supple and fairly strong. I cought her hand and shoved her back. She staggered and the lost her balance. I steped over to her and grabbed a handfull of her close croped, unstyled, unbrushed, dirty mess that could only be called hair becuse it was on top of her unmadeup, unwashed, uncared for head. "Let go of me you blaspheming slut, you adultress, you hell bound sinning slut, you." I'd heard enought of this! My slap suprised me almost as much as it did her. "Shut up, you fridged, fat, useless thing. If you were any type of lover to your husband he wouldn't be here with me. But your not and he is. She started to say something so I slaped her again. Then I don't know what came over me. I pulled her into the bed room and shoved the now crying woman onto the bed. In a flash, I had her hands tied behind her back, then her legs. When she realized what I was doing, she began to scream. A pair of my dirty panties put that to a quick end. Ernest appeared, his pants still down around his ankles. His protest died stillborn as I shot him a look that said, 'Me or her'. I finshed trussing the slob on the bed then rolled her over. Her eyes (which with a little work might have been a pretty gray) reguarded me with pure terror. "First off, lets get something stright, given the choice of a sow like you or a woman like me, I think that even you know what your husband's choice would be. Now I think the world of your husband and your not going to cause him any more trouble. In fact, instead of being a millstone around his neck, your going to become someone he can be proud of." I stood and took Mr. Rogers by the arm and lead him back to the livingroom. "Your not going to, well, hurt, I mean, god Rikki I never would..." I shushed him with a kiss. "No silly. I assume that at one time she was an attractive woman?" " Oh yes, when she was young she...." A second kiss ended his babbleing. "I'm going to call a friend. Cover for me and tell folks there was a death in her family, something and I'll see if we can't make your life a little sweeter."

Marrisa was shocked, to say the least. "Well sweets, I'll give you this, you don't do things by halves." She reguarded the teary, bound and gaged whale on the bed. "But your right, a pussy is wasted on her. Well, what's life without a challange." She went out and had a talk with Ernest.

My apartment became an impromptu gym and dungon. First we stripped Burtha of her polyester mentality. It proved far easer then I ever thought. My Nordic-Trak and Versi-climber were joined by a life cycle and free weights. Jane Fonda workout videos and instruction in make up. Some special music tapes that Burtha (whose middle name was a lovly Danelle) sweated to. We helped the weight loss with some lipo-suction and a little boob job and ass tuck, after hours, at the clinic of a friend of Erics. The funny thing was that Danelle adapted so quickly. It turned out that she was a barely suppressed submissive anyway. Since her husband wouldn't dominate her, she'd lasped into a self destructive type of behavior. The first two months of my summer vacation passed as she went from a size twenty to a size 10. Since her obsession in life was televangelest's we worked to recreate a Tammy Faye Baker style. Hair became blonde, makeup, lots of make up, and a new wardrobe. All the while Marrisa, Ernest and myself worked at reinforceing a properly submissive 'born again slut' image. Marrisa somehow aquired tapes of the old PTL club and we had Burtha/Danelle watching her new role model, Tammy-faye, twenty hours a day. Throughout, Danelle was never allowed to see herself, oh she knew she was loseing weight and all, but she had no idea of the drastic nature of the new person she was becoming. The just two weeks before I was to get shipped off to prep school, Marrisa decided that it was time to find out if we were all going to jail. Danelle was made ready to become just who Marrisa and I had deciced she should be. First she shaved her body until she was completely smooth. Then we ordered her to shave her pussy. We watched smiling as she meekly obeyed. Then Marrrisa handed her a pink satin and lace Victorian style corset. The undergarmet was very heavly boned and would reduce her waist by six full inches if it were laced all the way closed. Marrisa and I watched Danelle as she struggled into the constrictive garmet. As she did so, we praised her and told her that God loved her like this. Once into the corset, Danelle turned to us and in her now soft, sudective voice asked "Will you lace me tighter, please." We, of course, were happy to comply. As we pulled the corset breath taking tight, Danelle moaned "Yes Jesus, this is what you want me to be. Tighter, please lace it tighter, God wants you to! Yes, that it, oh yes, tighter, tighter. I want God to love me like this, but I've got to be just like Tammy says I shoud be. Yes, oh yes, pull it tight." The corset's shelf cups supported her large, full, mature breasts, as I contenued to struggle to force the corset closed, Marrisa help Danelle settle her large breasts in the half cups. Then as the back of the corset came togather, Marrisa twisted Danelle's rock hard nipples. Danelle came. Her body shook in the spasm of her orgasm. She kept moaning "Praise God" over and over. When her pleasure was spent, she turned to us panting, "God loves you for what yov'e done to me. I was evil and wicked and have to be punished, but you've made me understand God's plan for me." Marrisa just smiled and handed her a pair of pink nylons. Soon the nylons were smoothed on over her now shapely legs and fastened to the corsets eight garter straps. Marris hand Danelle a ten inch dildo and turned the vibrator the filled it on. Without a word Danelle slid the huge rubber cock into her now driping pussy, As soon as the dildo had disappeared completly except for the pink satin ribbon that had been tied to it base, Marris had Danelle a identical twin. This one quckly disappeared into her waiting ass. "Oh yes Jesus, good Christian women only let there husbands have there pussy, so wicked sluts like me have to have there cunts and ass filled up, locked up. A thin pink leather strap was ran from the front of the heavy satin corset, down through the cack of her shaved pussy, under and up throught the crack of her ass. The two satin ribbons were tied and the her shaved pussy was misted my pink transparent thong panties. As she stood there, no one would of guessed that the lovly wasp waisted woman standing there had been filled, both ass and pussy stuffed full, with rubber cocks whose vibrators faint hum could just bearly be heard. A pink nylon full slip lavish with white lace came next, covering the indecently tight corset, hiding it and the shaved, dildo filled pussy behind an almost innocent facade. A chaste white silk blouse witk a high manderian style neck came next. The blouse buttoned up the back and was sleeveless. Marrisa fastened a six strand chocker of pearls around Danielle's throat and put long gold and pearl drop earrings through Danelle newly periced ears. Then we helped her into a constricting, tailored, calf length pink satin skirt covered in white lace. The skirt was tightly tapered and buttoned in the back from the knee to the hem. Marrisa helped Danielle tuck the blouse in, then zipped and buttoned the skirt. A pink leather wide Vee belt went around Danniel waist and was pulled tight then buckeled in the small of her back. Pink satin pumps with quarter inch wide ankle staps and 6 inch stelleto spiked heels. Danniel was sat down and hair weave extensions were added. Two hours later a exquisite golden blonde mane was the result, teased to towering, laquered perfection. While Marrisa worked on Danielle's hair, I worked on her hands. In order to transform myself from Richard to Rikki, Marrisa had taught me how to do wraps and tips for my nails. I took these lessions to the extreame. 1 and 1/2 inch perfectly sculpted nails polished hot pink to exactly match her skirt. As I finished up her hands, Marris worked her magic on Danielle's face. First, 2 inch long false eyelashes were glued on. Then loads of pancake makeup smoothed Danielle's face to matte perfect finish. Danielles eyes wre oulined, both above and below, in bright neon blue liner that glistened wetly even when it dried. Bright, light blue on her lids was blended to sparkling silver shadow at her high, thin arched penciled brows. Loads of pink blush gave Danielle high sexy cheeks and her lips were coveverd in loads of creamy, shiny, hot pink lipstick. Matte powder and lots of navy blue masscarra finished Danielle's now sexy, slutty face. Marrisa then commanded Danielle to stand and took pink satin ribbon and tied lengths tightly around Danielle's elbows and wrists. I wondered at what Marrisa was up to, but wisely remained silent. I handed Danielle her gloves, shoulder length, skin tight pink satin, with three tiny white pearl buttons at each wrist. Danielle slowly and carfully pulled the gleaming, super thin, streach satin over her obscenely long nails and then over her hands. The gloves didn't hide the nails at all, in fact the lustrous satin called attention them. Gold and pearl cocktail rings went on each finger except for the ring finger of Danielle's left hand. That finger recived an indecently large diamond and gold wedding set. The rings that went on the first fingers of each hand had white satin ribbons attached. Danielle stood pasively as Marrisa carefully threaded the ribbons from her wrists through the small spaces between the buttons that closed her gloves snugly at her wrists. The ribbons at her elbows were passed through tiny slits hidden by the seams in the gloves. Once the ribbons were pulled out, Danniele's gloves where pulled the remainder of the way up. Marrisa then helped Danielle into the jacket to her Sunday suit. Danielle's jacket matched the skirt, hot pink satin covered in rich white lace. The jacket had a deep shawl coller, 3/4 length sleeves a flaired peplem waist and fastened tightly with three covered buttons at the waist. As Marrisa helped Danielle into the jacket she pulled the ribbons from the elbow through tiny holes in the elbows of the jacket, then through matching holes in the side seams of the jacket itself. The jacket was carfully lifted up and the ribbons were tied to the buckle of the belt that crushed Danielle's waist. Danielle's elbows were now held tightly aginst her body. A pink satin clutch style purse was put into Danielle's left hand. A small hole in the front of the purse allowed the ribbon from the ring on her finger to be passed through pulling her satin gloved hand tight aginst the matching clutch. A matching hole in the back of the clutch allowed the ribbon to be passed through the and tied tightly to her now hidden thumb. The ribbon from her wrist was then passed through the second button hole in her pretty jacket and tightly tied to the decorative gold and pearl butterfly buckle on the the belt. Needless to say her left hand was now completly immoble, held tight aginst her waist, her useless hand clutching her purse, a purse that she could nether open or put down. Marrisa now produced a white satin bible with a proceded to repeat the prcidure of binding her hand to it. This time however her right arm was bent and the ribbon from her wrist was passed under arm and tightly tied the the ribbon that held her elbow tight aginst her waist. Marrisa now fastend two large gold and pearl braclets so that now not even a hint of the ribbons were visable. Now Marrisa did something I found mildly disgusting. "Open wide Danielle." When Danielle complied, Marrisa reach into her mouth and carefully removed her dentures. Yuch! Marrisa now opened a box and removed a new pair. The false teeth were a single peice, uppers and lowers fused into a solid unit. Behind the pearly white teeth was a hollow penis gag. Denture adheasive (industral strength) was applied and the rubber cock shoved into the mouth of and then down the throat of Danielle. A little adjustment and some touch up of the lipstick and Danielle's now smiling mouth was filled with gleaming white, perfectly even, teeth. Slight, ever so slight, mewwing sounds were all that escaped the diabolicly clever gag. Marrisa smiled as she guided her creation to the full length mirror and allowed Danielle to reguard herself fro the first time. Danielle stood mutely (as if she had a choice) reguarding the blond creature that Bertha had become. The woman that smiled back, her face suggestively made up, her voluptuous body dressed in a breathtakinly tight satin and lace suit under which a luminous, white satin, over tight, blouse made her large erect nipples even more obivious. In counterpoint, she held her clutch modestly in her satin gloved hand while her other hand demurly clutched her bible aginst her large, full breast. And not one hint of the bondage she was in showed, bound, gaged, yet to the ouside world she appeared to be a perfect vision of the born again Mary Kay ideal. I watched in shocked awe as Danielle's bound form shook with the force of her orgasm. Smiling Marrisa opened a second wig box and removed a wig head crowned with another blond teased creation. With a wicked smile she guided me to the makeup table. "Get your pussy out of Rikki's clothes this second, then sit your pussy down, well Cissy-Anne get moving."; As I started to strip Marrisa began to tell me of her plans for me today, her voice a iron command that I couldn't disobey.

Two hours later mother and daughter stand next to each other. I look into the smiling face of Cissy-anne, a younger version of mindless, vapid blond bimbo standing next to me. Cissy-anne body measures 44DD-19-40 and is dressed to show it off. Cissy-Anne's slut body is covered completely, but the clothes are so tight, so provocative, that it would almost be better to be nude. My calf length emerald green satin suit skirt is so tightly tapered that I'm forced to walk in tiny, mincing steps, the outline of the six garter straps of my waist crushing corset clearly visible. The skirt has a peplem that accents the ass portion of the tits and ass look Marrisa has so skillfully created. The taunt garter straps hold up my silky, sheer white nylons that contrast and call attention to the emerald green satin pumps whose 6 inch gold metallic heels are so sharply spiked as to inspire disbelief. The heel height put an intolerable strain on my feet and I would kick them off if I could, but of course I can't. The shoes are held on by delicate gold chains that wrap tightly around my ankle and close in the front with tiny heart shaped locks. My white satin blouse is cowl necked and obscenely tight. Like my mother, my erect nipples are clearly visible. My collarless bolero jacket has 3/4 length sleeves. My arms are covered with the shoulder length white satin gloves and inch wide emerald bracelets grace both my wrists. My satin gloved hands are demurely joined, my left over my right with my right hand chastely clasping my gold satin clutch. Peaking out from under the cowl neck of my blouse is an emerald cross. My earrings are flashing green cascades of emeralds that fall nearly to my shoulder. My huge blue eyes sparkle in mindless wonder from under lashes even longer the my slut mother's. My eye makeup is all emerald green and gold and my lips are painted bright, wet copper gold. My hair is a wildly teased mane that rises to impossible heights and flows over my shoulders and spills down my back like a cloak of spun gold. I smile at the world, a sexy pouting come on that screams scatterbrained, wanton, sensuality. While mommy looks like a fundamentalist whore, I look like what I have become, a born again nymphomaniac. It's hard to prance around as I do. First, the gigantic dildo that I willingly shoved up my ass dams in a two quart enema that makes be feel both horny and drives me mad with the unfulfilled need for release. Second the shaved cunt that hides, replaces, my boy thing is cunning beyond belief. If you pulled my skirt off to reveal the emerald green g-string panties the first thing you would notice is the fact that my knees are tight bound together. The second is that a fine gold chain runs from by bound knees and disappears under the g-string. Pull down the g-string and the chain is slip knotted over the head of my inch long clit, so that every step jerks the taunt chain. The tied knees would surprise you, but they shouldn't because, just like mother, I'm tightly bound. The white satin of my gloves conceal the fact that the two gloves are one piece, molded out of a supple, super thin plastic that when expose to heat turns hard and competently unyielding. My rings were put on then the purse was placed in my hands then after a brief application of a hair dryer on high, I found that my hands and arms were completely immobile. A fine gold chain ran from the back of my gold satin clutch, through a tiny hole in the front of my skirt and a matching hole in the front of my g-string and then attached to the chain that punished my clit. So my pretty gloved hands hold my pretty purse modestly in front of my pretty pussy. My smile is a mirror image of the older bimbo standing next to me and my soft moans the only sounds that escape my slick, wet lips. The plastic teeth that fit over mine are as realistic as hers are, the hollow rubber cock the lifelike teeth hide, just as large, the smile the cruel gag forces my face to simulate just as vacuous, just as provocative. I know what is to come next. I've already watched Marrisa push the soft, sound absorbing wax deep into Danielle ears. Push it in until her discreetly bound body quivered from the sound deading pressure in her now useless eardrums. Then I watched Marrisa fit oversized contacts into the deaf mute woman standing next to me. Contacts that made her eyes huge blue sparkling pools of sex appeal while hiding the fact that the reverse was coated to reflect all the light back out. Marrisa turns to me, the can of wax in her left hand, the stick in her right. I try to shake my head 'No' but the effect is a mindless twit flipping her hair. Soon I too stand in absolute silence, both speechless and deaf. Marrisa shows me my new eyes, tantalizing emerald green. Then I too am perfect. Cissy-Anne is ready to be used.

STOPER

Then, the big event, Jessica off to Betty Ford for treatment of whatever. After Mommy Dearest delivered my sister to Palm Springs, Christina was off to Australia for a movie and Monica was off the Hospital for a 10 day on stretch. Home alone. First, call forwarding sent any call to Jessica's number, and then a call to Marrisa. My bra's were way to tight, but as Marrisa insisted I was dressed from the skin out in Rikki's finest.

Interlude 3

She was stylishly dressed, a perfect picture of business elegance, from her hair, fixed just so, upswept, perfectly styled to the tips of her gray Gucci pumps with the three inch styled heels, thin enough to be sexy, thick enough to be stylish. As she pulled into the long term parking lot, she never noticed the white conversion van behind her. Once parked, she unlocked the trunk and took out the luggage cart. As she bent over to retrieve the collapsed carrier, she felt a sharp sting on her behind as if she'd been slapped on the ass. She straightened up and turned. As she did the world spinned and lights began to flash. Then the world was a deep, dark well into which she was falling.

When Marrisa arrived, she had a new bottle of muscle relaxers (I was eating those things like candy. Into the car and off to Jessica's. Jessica owned a huge place just outside Santa Barbara. The private drive lead up to a house that's huge and more then just secluded, the nearest neighbor is over a mile away. Once there, I noticed Jessica's Porshe parked in the garage, wonderful. While Marrisa unloaded her magic tools it was simple for me to open the house up and turn the alarm off. A quick call to the alarm company and Jessica's code word 'Willi' (the last time I was up her, I 'accidently' set the alarm off. Boy had Jessica been pissed.) confirmed that 'Jessica DeChombonard' was home. After bringing everything in, Marrisa fixed us both a drink and I took a couple of relaxers and lay back on the couch. Marrisa wandered off to look at the house. I picked up my Walkman and on a whim popped in the last of the tapes, MaidenSongs X and lay back on the couch.

What a wonderful and bizarre dream. I was wrapped in cotton candy softness. Asleep, yet awake, I watched Marrisa set up the head form. I looked on in my dream state as the screen filled first with the familiar face of my sister, sans hair, then watched as Marrisa began to make subtle changes. The eyes were widened, the lashes became longer, thicker. The arch of the brow higher. Then permanent liner was added followed by blush. The complexion became perfectly smooth, almost doll like. Jessica's lips became fuller, fixed in a pouting smile that put Kim Bassanger to shame. These beautiful, full lips were then colored a fabulous candy apple red that simply screamed sex. The nose was slimmed, the cheeks raised. Ears became smaller and flat against the head. The face was still Jessica's, except now it was an ideal version of Jessica. Every flaw, no matter how small, was erased, corrected. An already extravagantly beautiful woman made perfect. Then the head shrank and was joined to the body. I watched as the breasts were raised, made fuller, rounded, the nipples larger, more prominent, stiffly erect. Her waist shrank just a little, her hips became a tiny bit fuller, her ass a little rounded. Jessica calves became a little fuller, her thighs a little smaller. In short, her body, almost perfect already, became a perfect sex kitten's body, a living Vargas drawing fit for a 1950's issue of Playboy. Then I was being stripped, Rikki's lovely suit removed from my limp, unresisting form by gentle hands. After that my completely hairless body was being stuffed into some type of form fitting, unpleasantly tight body suit. God it was hot, and it felt as if a thousand little needles were pricking every inch. The screen flashed the words 'SAVING MATRIX' and went blank, only to redraw itself with the face of my Mother. My headphones were removed and the mannequin like helmet was fitted over my head. Just before the soft sounds of MaidenSongs X started again, I thought I heard the sound of a car in the drive.

Bright morning light. A hangover that caused me to welcome death with open, willing arms. My entire body ached, my face throbbed, every inch of my body was sore. I felt a brief sting on my arm and slowly opened my eyes. Marrisa/Kathy Ireland's smiling face looked back. I shut my eyes again. "How do you feel darling?" I felt some of the soreness disappear. "Awful, I've never felt like this after a session before, am I OK." My voice sounded higher, softer. I was laying in Jessica bedroom, covered by one of her satin sheets. I could feel the silkiness all over my nude, hairless body. "Lay still for a little bit." I dozed off and on as slowly the soreness left me and my face stopped throbbing. Then Marrisa's gentle voice brought me back full awake. "Feeling better sweetheart. Want to get up?" I watched as she pulled the sheet off and I sat up. My head swam in the lights flashed on and off. If Marrisa hadn't steadied me, I'd have collapsed back on the bed. Then the room stopped spinning and the lights settled down to steady daylight. I let my feet down to the plush, deep shag carpet and stood. Well Marrisa helped me as again the room swam and my eyes refused to focus. As the blurred picture cleared I saw my reflection in the mirror. Jessica looked back at me, but the picture perfect version of Jessica I'd seen designed, her huge green eyes full in wonder. Voluptuous, enormous breast that literally defied gravity, a flat, tiny waist and full, lush woman's behind, firm, full thighs and the face of a goddess. Long, ass length red hair, fell over my shoulders and down my back in soft waves. My fingers ended in inch and a half long perfectly sculpted nails whose bright red polish matched my pouting lips exactly. The only discordant note in this unbelievably lovely female picture was the cock that hung between my creamy white thighs. I watched as the vision in the mirror ran her soft hand up over her muscled thighs, over her flat stomach up the wonderful mounds that rose from her chest. The touch of her fingers the breast flesh was like an electric shock. As her perfect, long, slim fingers gently traced her breast, the cock between her legs began to rise. When her nails touched her rock hard straining nipples, the wonderful cock between her milky legs became fully erect, a drop of pre-cum glistening form the satin head. "Yes darling there real, your not a blond but I think that you'll find your golden red hair more then luxurious enough to make for forgoing your 'blond bimbo' dream. Besides, there always a blond wig when you fell the need to relax as a ditz."

Part of me wanted to scream at Marrisa 'What have you done to me, these tits are real, huge mounds of girl flesh that I'll never be able to hide.' But as I stood there, my cock hard and throbbing from nothing but the delightful touch of my ultra feminine hands on those same wondrous mounds the dominate part of my mind softly whispered 'This what you have wanted for so long, Richard is gone. Your exactly what men desire, a perfect vision of erotic fantasies brought to live, a living cartoon vixen that men dream of and would delight in." As though I was in a trance I turned from Marrisa as she stood watching me and walked the length of Jessica's plush bedroom to the door that lead to her dressing room. I opened the door, ignoring the stunning woman whose reflection smiled in the floor to ceiling mirrors that covered Jessica's wall. Doors right left and center. I went to the right one. Jessica's first, huge walk in closet. Her lingerie. Her most personal things. I opened her panties drawer. Inside the drawer on top of all of Jessica's sexy panties was a artificial pussy, so very life like that I expected the clit to quiver as I ran my fingers over it. I picked it up along with the white lace covered pink satin bag next to it and returned to the vanity in the dressing area. I sat my things down, then turned to the sink. Opening the satin bag, I removed an aerosol can and sprayed my clitty-cock with the icy cold, local anaesthetic and watched my hard-on wilt. Into a tiny clit sized nib. Picking up the prosthesis I forced my nasty boy thing into the rubber pouch and head to my dick into the false clit. My balls were shoved back up into my body cavity. Some adhesive, the hair dryer, some of the makeup in the bag, The hair dryer again. Every thing put away. I stood and turned to regard a fully female Jessica, her sweet cunt misted with a perfect trimmed bush of golden red pubic hair. I returned to her closet. Let's see, the black satin bikini panties, so brief and tight that every detail of Jessica's twat was discernible through the silky thin material. As I pulled Jessica's panties on, I marveled at the perfect fit. Lets see, a corset or bra and garter belt. I didn't need a corset, but they are very erotic, but so are garter belts. Garter belt. Her black satin garter belt. As I slipped it around my waist and fumbled with the 4 hooks in the back, I wondered about the long nails and how I would hate to break them. There, just snug enough on the smallest size. Now slip the 6 garter straps under the panties. Hose. Her sheer black ones, the seamed ones. Yes, I have to be ever so careful with these nails. Every time I smooth hose on over my silky smooth legs I get turned on. The sheer (pun intended) female delight in the way my legs feel as the hose mist the with silky feel of the nylon. Make sure my seams are straight. Yes. Not a bra, Oh I could pick one that leaves these magnificent nipples bare. I look at a black underwired shelf bra with a sexy front hook closure and thin straps. I drop it back in the drawer. I go the where Jessica's collection of bustiers hang and take down a black leather strapless one. It's tight, just a little. I settle my huge of globes of sweet, firm girl flesh into the cups to show them off just right. Everything fit just right, just tight enough, my obviously erect nipples made all the more prominent by the thin black leather that just covered the two inch diameter of my dark brown aureoles. Now out to the vanity. Mauve eye shadow, blended to pink. My eyeliner and mascara are permanent (what a time saver). Then just a hint of gloss over lips that will always look so very inviting. My complexion is china doll perfect, my brows, permanent high arching lines. A perfect sex kitten face. It would be so easy to transform though. Some more liner, longer false lashes, darker lipstick. Oh yes I could make this face look very beautiful and oh so very cruel. Now for my hair, a elegant upsweep with lots of styling mousse and a silky bun in the back. I leave a pony tail hanging all the way down my back. I turned the curling wand on and as it heats I rummage through the jewelry box. Jessica didn't really own costume jewelry. The large hoops I selected are real gold. I loved the heavy feel of the earrings as they pulled on the lobes of my ears. A fine gold chain necklace supported a pendent charm whose delicate gold script read 'Bitch with an Attitude.' I looked in the mirror at the gleaming gold script hanging down between the deep cleavage of my enormous breasts. For my right wrist I picked a thick, heavy gold 's' bracelet, for my left, an Anne Kline gold watch. The last piece of jewelry (for now) was a delicate ankle bracelet. As I fastened the super fine gold chain over the black, silky sheer nylon on my right leg I remembered reading a fashion 'expert' who stated "Only common women wear ankle bracelets." The curling iron was hot and I did my bangs and set the pony tail in a soft curl. As I stood I regarded my new, magnificent body and sex kitten face, whatever I was, I was not common. Then over to the second walk in closet. On the right, wigs, maybe 170 in all, no two in the same length or color, each on a smiling wig head. On the left, shoes and boots, hundreds of them with a purse next to each pair. Further down were the shelves that held gloves, scarves and other accessories. Just looking at the rows of sexy wigs almost made me cum right there. The only problem was this was the wrong closet. Out and over to the next mirrored door. Jessica clothes filled a closet fully 40 feet long by 10 feet wide. Stretching down the left side were formals, cocktail dresses and after five wear. One the right, suits, skirts, blouses, pants and dresses. It was like being in an elegant boutique, except these were all mine (well for right now). I already knew just what I wanted. I walked down to where Jessica's leather hung (and she had lots) and selected a cherry red leather suit. Well it was really more a blouson jacket with the slightest of peplems and a matching skirt. I pulled the skirt up over my slinky nylons and fastened the button at the waist. As I zipped the skirt closed, I turned the free standing full length mirror and regarded the new me. The red leather skirt ended about an inch above my knees and fit like a second skin. As I watched myself slip into the matching jacket and fasten the button at the waist, I marveled at the fit. Jessica's clothes fit me better then her. Her body was about a size 5 waist, but a size in her 10 hips, more or less. But my body was a perfect size 5 and a perfect size 10. Yes, I looked exactly like my sister, but better. Back for shoes, red leather 5 inch spiked heels that matched my suit exactly. The shoes had pencil thin gold metallic heels that narrowed to points the size of a nail and ankle straps that locked with tiny gold heart shaped locks no bigger then my thumb nail. The matching clutch had a short, kicky gold chain strap that also ran across the top of the clutch. I'd fill the purse once I got out to the living room (god, I hoped Marrisa brought the driver license and credit cards.) One last long, loving look at the beautiful smiling red head in her sexy leather and I left the dressing room went out through the bed room loving the feel of the tight feel of the leather skirt across my round, swaying ass. My sexy, throaty alto voice sang out "Marrisa, did you bring, oh fucking Jesus!" Standing in the living room was Marrisa, next to her was a set of twins, one pair of which was my mother, both of theses stunning blonds were dressed in identical, perfectly tailored gray suits, gray pumps white sheer hose and wore white silk ascot blouses and gray bracelet length gloves. Standing next to her was my sister, dressed exactly like I was. I stood dumbly, trying to think of something to say, my panic stricken mind desperate, by breath coming in great gasps. One of the two power yuppies walked over to where I stood, and kissed me gently on the cheek. "Close your mouth dear, you look like a fish and don't gasp. Your going to hyperventilate and faint" Dumbly, I closed my mouth and tried, unsuccessfully for the most part, to get my breathing in check. Mothers face looked younger, more an older sister now then the mother I'd seen off this morning, at least I assumed it was still Friday. "Please darling, calm down, there no reason for you to be afraid, at least not of me. Slowly and gently, she reached out and took my hands in her gloved ones and lead me over to the Louis the 16th settee and sat me down. Both of our breathtaking twins stood right were they were unmoving, there purses held tightly before them, smiling. "Darling, how much do you remember of you father?" Regaining a tiny bit of my composure, I blurted out; "Only what you told me, that he was a doctor, used cocaine, lost his license and that he abandoned us." Her reply rocked me. "Mommie lied to her darling." She continued "Ten years ago, your father not only was a successful plastic surgeon, but had passion for design. He couldn't very well handle both and so he married, a second rate costume disigner, more of a seamtress then a designer. He did the designs then sold them through his wife. The rewards for her were money and prestige. Then he fell in love with his nurse, Monica. Well hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. He was drugged and transformed into a she male. The real Monica was killed. Your fathers gun, with his finger prints all over, the murder weapon, are in a safe deposit box at the bank. The lawyer who handles Mommie's affairs has orders to open it if anything should ever happen. Along with the gun is the location of the real Monica's body. Add in the fact that your father was a transvestite, something Mommie has always loathed and that Monica was pregnant, well you can see that your daddy had no choice but to disappear and to accede to her demands. The real Monica was never missed because Mommie made Daddy into her, with the help of a gifted, but unlicensed doctor from Mexico. What the police would, wrongly, assume is that your father is a drug addicted sexual psychopath who killed his pregnant mistress and then coldly took her place. The truth is Mommie and her daughter did. Mommie planed to turn you into a mindless slave and then pass you off as Monica's retarded daughter. Mommie hates everything male, did you know that?" Dumbly I shook my head 'No'. Marrisa came and set down beside me. "I'm the real Monica's baby brother, a brother your mother knew nothing about. We were both given up for adoption and we had just found each other when your mother killed my sister, set your father up, drugged him, framed him and transformed him. For the last three years he worked with his sisters clone to effect our revenge on the two cunts who'd wronged us. I've wanted to tell you for so long what was happening, but your not, well weren't, that good an actress, you'd have spoilt everything. Oh not on purpose, but we couldn't take the chance. Your mother is, well was, a dangerous opponent and would have stopped at nothing to protect her lifestyle. When Marrisa finished, I stammered; "But why are your telling me theses things mother, I mean...." The beautiful blond sitting next to me let a leather gloved finger shush me. Smiling; my mother said "Call me Christine, that what Jessica always calls her Mother." "But Mother..." "Darling, no but's, I'm Christine and your Jessica." As she spoke, she gracefully rose to her feet. "I've waited a long time for this and now darling it's time you accepted the wonderful things that have and are happening. First, your sister isn't a model, she a professional dominate, a very well paid one. She never permits her clients to have any type of sexual contact with her, so your clients will be none the wiser if the she-bitch who puts them through there paces has a sweet secret like you have. You'll make a much better Jessica. Your sister was only interested in the money, while you darling truly want to fulfil others sexual fantasies. Think of it, Jessica's clothes, Jessica's house, Jessica's money and never ever seeing Richard again" As she spoke, she slowly and carefully hiked the tapered gray wool Pendelton skirt up and pulled her matching gray satin panties down over her garter tabs. My mother's six inch long, stiffly erect, penis sprung free from it's hiding place. understanding flooded over me as looking up into her beautiful blue eyes I murmured "Why Mommie, you have a wonderful cock, just like me!"

So I filled Jessica's shoes while my Monica filled Christine's, literally. Mother and daughter became submissive transformed sex toys and Father and son became wonderful she- males. As for the old versions of us, well I found out just what was behind those locked doors down stairs. Having full time korean twins for maids has made both my life easer. Both Suk and Toy turned out to be much easer to train and transform (A another whole story) and have accepted their changed status nicely, not of course that they have any choice. Oh they plot revenge in pidgin english, but the video surveillance system tapes of these silly fantasies of theirs provide Christine, Marrisa and myself with untold hours of amusement.

I remembered watching as Christine and Marrisa put my twins through the 'change of life'. I mean after all, we can't have them making clear waters cloudy, can we. Marrisa programmed the computer for the alterations. The program serves to guide in the recreation of the body matrix desired. The helmet and suit are lined with thousands upon thousands of tiny, almost microscopic needles. The needles can extract body fat or inject it as desired. Other, slightly larger, needles are used in insert tiny implants. The effect is the same as with larger implants, but no incisions are made. The larger needles also serve to remove bone which is chemically broken down, then sucked out. Inversely, plastic can be injected to change bone structure. The helmet is capable of chemical face peals. All in all, the helmet along with the suit, serve as an instant plastic surgery. So Suk and Toy are now 60DDDD-16-38. Hormone implants keep them lactating constantly and watching those two milking each other as given Christine and I many cum spilling sessions together.

And speaking of Christine, my mother and I do everything together, everything. Christine says that the family that cums together sure has a lot of fucking fun. Her designs are in demand more then ever and people say both of us are a lot more fun to be around. Eric is making marriage noises and Dee and her daughter are my faithful weekend slaves/lovers. And Mr. Rogers almost had a heart attack when I explained that my sister Rikki had left to go back east and that I'd be the new tenant. I sent the poor man off for an Aids test and when it came back negative (I knew it would, gave him his first ever bare back blow job. He really is a dear. Needless to say he really does worship the ground I walk on and so does his sweet, sexy wife. But then, so do lots of others, and I love them all for loving the beautiful woman I've become.

AFTERWORDS

Well a bit of Deux Ex Machina here. This ends my first and last effort at linear story writing. It does put an end to my never ending write/rewrite cycle, but does not seem to satisfy me and is a lot more work. I warped (not a misspelled word, a joke) things up rather quickly, not because I was tired of Rikki, but I felt that you, gentle readers, must be. I'd planned to go into detail on Dee and her daughter along with the kidnap of Christine and Jessica. The only part I had to put in was the fulfilment of my unpleasant plans for Mr. Rogers slut of a wife (there's something very Fruedian there, but I'm not sure what). Eric was to have some dominate times alone with Rikki and so was Marrisa. However this thing is already over 70 typed, single space pages and I made the editorial decision to end it before people became to bored. But all in all, I've enjoyed doing this and if I'm overwhelmed with response, maybe I expand this, zip it and Sysop's willing pull a Steven King (The entire Rikki, like he did with 'The Stand') To everyone who took the time to write, my special hugs and thanks.

All my love

Desiree

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