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The Guinea Pig
CHAPTER 1
It wasn't that long ago that Gloria Watson had been using
drugs uncontrollably and, out of despair, attempted suicide. Now
her rehabilitation was almost complete. All that remained was a
departure interview with the director of The Institute, the
facility which had saved her life and restored her to sanity.
Gloria knew Dr. van Damme by reputation only and did not know what
to expect as she entered her office.
Dr. van Damme rose to greet Gloria. Gloria tried not to gawk.
She had known that the doctor was a woman, but that she was as
strikingly beautiful as she turned out to be. She was tall, blonde,
and dressed all in white; suit, blouse, hose, and pumps. A small
name tag pinned to her jacket said "von Damme". She wore little
make-up and her hair was gathered up in roll on her head.
"Hello Gloria. It's a pleasure to meet you at last," said Dr.
van Damme extending her hand. "I'm glad your recovery went so
well."
Gloria took the proffered hand, shook it, and the two women
sat down on the couch where Dr. van Damme opened the conversation.
"Gloria, I want you to tell me in your own words what happened to
you. How you wound up here, and how your experience here will
enable you to function in the real world again."
"Well, Doctor."
"Please, Gloria, call me Justine."
"My troubles started after I married my ex-husband, Joseph
Watson. He was everything any girl could ask for. Fantastically
wealthy, handsome, and sexually insatiable. He was thirty and I was
twenty. Being young and coming from a lower middle-class family, I
was in awe of him and his wealth. I always felt inadequate around
Joe and he did everything he could to reinforce my perception. What
did the marriage, and me in, was his continual betrayal of me. Joe
just could not resist bedding any blonde with a big chest. I'm sure
you've noticed that I conform to his ideal. I later learned that he
has always behaved in this manner, why he even has a son who is
almost my age; he got a girl pregnant when he was only twelve!"
"After a year of my trying to get him to settle down, he
divorced me. I blamed myself and my shortcomings for this. He
provided me an extravagant settlement and I tried to loose myself
in drugs and alcohol. When that didn't work I tried to kill myself.
A friend shipped me here to your clinic for treatment and to avoid
any scandals in the tabloids."
Dr. van Damme poured out coffee for them. "And what have you
learned from your treatment here?"
"Well, I don't blame myself anymore. None of what happened was
my fault; it all lies with that son of a bitch. I really believe he
wanted to make it with all those women because he's really insecure
about himself. Take his height for example, Joe is only five foot
seven but always wanted to be six feet tall. I don't feel ashamed
and guilty any more. I'm mad as hell and I want to get back at him
for ruining my life and almost causing my death."
"Gloria. Surely you don't mean that."
"I certainly do Justine. I don't know yet what I will do to
get even with him, but I will spend the rest of my life trying, if
that's what it takes."
"You certainly seem determined Gloria. Perhaps we can find a
way for my organization to help."
"But Doctor, I have no more money. I'm broke."
"You needn't worry about that Gloria. Anything's possible."
Dr. van Damme produced a file. "We investigated your husband
during your stay to see if the things you told your therapist were
delusions or reality. It makes very interesting reading. He's
certainly deserving of some severe punishment, and I think it would
be even more fitting if he paid for it himself. I'm sure we can
work something out."
"Oh Justine, could you? Would you? Joe Watson is a powerful
and wealthy man, are you sure you want to get involved?"
Dr. van Damme spoke into her intercom. "Clarice. Bring in a
blank contract form please." Then continued, "Gloria I fear no man
like Joe Watson. My organization operates in many areas, and as a
result, has made numerous friends of real influence and power. Joe
Watson can't hurt me, he can't even find me if I don't want him to.
Besides I've taken down bigger than him before. Now shall we
discuss specifics?"
CHAPTER 2
Joe Watson followed the girl into her hotel suite.
Congratulating himself silently, he thought, "man, what a fox.
She's so hot, and I'm just the guy to give it to her."
Joe had been captivated by her since he spotted her in his
customary pick up joint. She was all tits and ass and paraded them
proudly. His cock was as hard enough to drive nails and he couldn't
wait to ram it in her.
"Want a drink Joe?" She called from the other room.
"Sure, eh..." He couldn't remember her name. "Make it Scotch
and water."
Joe and his date sat on the couch and sipped their drinks. He
wanted only to rip her dress off and go at it then and there. He
played it cool though, thinking he might be able to enjoy this one
for more than one night.
"Tell you what Joe, why don't I go slip into something more
comfortable?"
She left the room and Joe thought, "Hot damn. Here we go," and
downed the rest of his drink in one gulp.
When Joe's date returned she was wearing something more
comfortable; a sweatshirt, jeans, and tennis shoes. Joe didn't seem
surprised. In fact, he didn't even notice. The girl eyed his inert
form on the couch for a moment, then dialed the number she had been
given. "He's good to go. Come and get him."
She retrieved her bag and belongings and after making sure
that the door was unlocked she departed, leaving Joe to his fate.
CHAPTER 3
"You can open your eyes anytime now Mr. Watson. We know you're
awake."
"I was just trying to collect myself and remember what
happened," said Joe.
Opening his eyes he saw an older man wearing a white coat and
carrying a stethoscope. Glancing about he noticed he was restrained
in what appeared to be hospital bed. Furthermore, he saw wires
leading from his bed to a bank of monitors that were meaningless to
him."
"What happened? I have a heart attack or something."
"No. Nothing that simple I'm afraid." Let me get the director
to explain the situation to you.
Several minutes later Joe looked up as a pretty blonde entered
the room. "Mr. Watson, welcome back to the world of the living. My
name is Dr. van Damme and I'm sure you have many questions..."
"You bet I do babe. What happened, where am I, and when can
I leave." Joe interrupted.
"To answer your questions in order. You were drugged; slipped
a mickey I think the vernacular is. You are on my private island,
far removed from the United States, and I don't know when, if ever,
you can return there. Does that satisfy your curiosity?"
"What the fuck is going on here? Who the hell do you think you
are?" Joe exploded.
His answer was a slap from Dr. van Damme that rocked his still
woozy head.
"I'll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head. The story
your associates will put out is this; as a result of your notorious
womanizing, you have contracted AIDS. You have secreted yourself at
a private clinic outside the United States to undergo experimental
therapy, much as a famous actor did not to long ago. Eventually you
will succumb to your illness and your remains will be cremated.
After that, it won't be long before the world forgets that Joseph
Watson ever existed."
"How could this be happening to me?" Joe wondered.
"Who put you up to this?" He demanded to know.
"The answer, Mr. Watson, is that you did. The way you treated
your ex-wife, and the way you've treated women all your life,
caught my attention. That, and the fact that you were vulnerable."
"That goddamned bitch Gloria. Figure her to get mixed up in
something like this." Joe thought for a minute. "What do you mean
vulnerable?"
"You were such a disagreeable person that no one cared for
you. We were able to influence every individual who might be
concerned over your absence. They all sold you out. You were a
failure as a person Mr. Watson. That and your miserly penny-
pinching did you in."
"What are you talking about?"
"You were too cheap to keep a good law firm on retainer. I'm
sure if you had, that they would have advised you to change your
will immediately after your divorce. As it was, you didn't, and
have created all manner of potential difficulties for yourself.
Such as the one you're in right now."
"Let me go. Look, whatever she's paying you I'll double it, no
wait..., I'll triple it."
"Lets understand one thing Mr. Watson. Your wife didn't put us
up to this. We put her up to it."
"So what's going to happen?"
"When you die, your wife will become executrix and
administrate of your estate, at least until your son becomes
twenty-one. She's going to pay us for our 'treatment' of you and a
good portion of the fees will be rebated to her via overseas bank
accounts."
"And how much is this treatment of mine going to run."
Inquired Joe.
"About five million dollars to start, but that's just the
beginning. The Institute provides many services; psychological,
surgical, behavior modification, anti-aging, and infertility just
to name a few. Many of these treatments are unsanctioned in the
industrialized countries, such as injecting fetal cells to reverse
the aging process. Our many affluent clients come here, where any
treatment they desire can be provided. Whether or not their
nation's medical authorities consider them effective or ethical.
Even so, these treatments have to be tested somehow and that's
where you come in. Your wife made you available to us to perform
research on as part of your punishment. In addition to the base fee
of five million, your wife guarantees us a profit of thirty-five
percent on all procedures performed on you."
"But what exactly is it you plan to do to me?
"The bad news, Mr. Watson, is that we are going to create a
new you. We will change both your appearance and your personality.
The good news is that you have shown a definite preference for the
design we are going to use."
At this point Dr. van Damme retired. Leaving Joe to
contemplate her cryptic announcement as he drifted off into
unconsciousness.
CHAPTER 4
Joe lay in his bed. He didn't want to get out of it. Even
walking across his small room to the toilet seemed to wear him out.
He'd lost all track of time and didn't know how long he had been
here. Severe diarrhea had afflicted him shortly after his arrival,
he'd lost a lot of weight, and was exceedingly thin. He still
didn't feel quite right, his skin was pasty white, he'd grown a
beard, and his sex drive had vanished. This last worried him most.
Joe had always prided himself on his virility. He couldn't even get
a hard on to masturbate, no matter how erotic his thoughts.
Joe's image was displayed on a video monitor in the conference
room. The doctor in charge of this phase of his treatment addressed
the audience in the room. "Treatment has proceeded along the
determined lines. The administered dosages of the prototype drug
A6D have been effective. Subject's testes are no longer producing
sperm or male hormones and are degenerating. There has been an
ensuing loss of interest in sex as a result. Subject is, in effect,
castrated. I recommend that A6D be commercially developed and made
available to those governments that have expressed an interest in
such a treatment for chronic sex offenders."
"Thank you doctor," said Dr. van Damme. "Your work, as always,
is praiseworthy. Now our genetic engineering department will have
the floor."
A bearded young man, looking barely old enough to be a
graduate student, approached the podium. "As you all know we have
conducted extensive research into recombinant DNA theory. One of
the easiest DNA chains to manipulate is that of the bacteria,
Escherichia coli, which lives in the human digestive tract. A
bacteriophage was introduced into subjects diet which exterminated
all E. coli resident in his body. Subject then consumed foodstuffs
containing our modified species. It has thrived and far exceeded
our expectations."
"This introduced species produces natural estrogenic compounds
as waste, which are then absorbed into the bloodstream through the
lining of the large intestine. Analysis shows that the subject's
hormonal balance is now that of a mature female. The only
difficulty is that it is slightly on the high side. That's not
really of any concern in this case, and we think we've found the
cause. We believe this treatment can be manipulated to do away with
the need for repeated dosages of almost any drug, not just
hormones. Early experiments show a potential for a bacteria that
can produce insulin. Furthermore, I personally feel this line of
research warrants additional inquiry as having the promise to
provide a reversible birth-control 'vaccine'."
Dr. van Damme led the room in a standing ovation for the
researcher. "Thank you very much. If I don't miss my guess, you may
have a Nobel Prize in your future."
Standing up, Dr. van Damme spoke into a small microphone. "You
may commence."
Then she addressed the assemblage. "Well, I'm sure we can all
agree that this subject is making an enormous contribution to
scientific and medical knowledge."
Ignoring the snickering that followed her remark, she
continued. "Next is a demonstration of a product that we hope will
someday be in every beauty salon in the world."
While she spoke, attendants had entered Joe's room and
restrained him to the bed. They were busily attaching connections
between Joe's body and a control board.
Dr. van Damme spoke. "As you know women employ many methods of
depilation. Few opt for electrolysis due to the time, pain, and
expense. We hope this device will change all that. A process has
been developed which we call batch depilation. As you know, when a
person comes in contact with voltage, electrical current passes
through the body, more often than not producing death by
electrocution. An exception to this is electricity at high
frequencies, not the radio frequencies used for some electrolysis,
but rather four hundred cycles per second. This electricity passes
along the skin. What we do is pass high voltage four hundred hertz
power between electrodes attached to the skin, after desensitizing
it. Then, as the current flows, it burns out the hair follicles.
Let's watch a demonstration."
Speaking into her microphone, Dr. van Damme said "You may
proceed with the presentation now."
Joe didn't know what was going on. He offered no resistance,
lacking both the energy and the inclination for such a move. His
skin had been coated with a slimy gel which tingled for a moment
then stopped. Metal bands had been fitted around his body at
various intervals from his feet, up his legs, around his waist,
chest, arms, and even his fingers. He was fitted with a collar and
then a cap, not unlike those used with the electric chair.
The technicians stepped back and threw a switch. There was a
humming sound and Joe felt the skin on his right calf tingle. After
a period it stopped, only to be repeated at another location on his
body. There was the odor of burned hair in the air. Finally, the
bands were removed and a mask was fitted over Joe's face and the
procedure was repeated there. The technicians removed all their
equipment. An aide came in and helped Joe to the bathtub.
Dr. van Damme changed the video pickup to the bathroom and she
and her staff observed as Joe was bathed. They watched with
fascination as the goo was scrubbed from Joe's body, for along with
it came his hair.
All of it!
"As you can see it is quite effective. We can choose the area
to be treated. The process is quick, cheap, and relatively
painless. You will notice that the subject now exhibits no hair
anywhere on his body except in the pubic region."
Joe was put back in bed and administered a sedative. Totally
hairless, and bald as a baby, he drifted off to a gentle sleep.
CHAPTER 5
Joe lay face down on an operating table in an amphitheater. He
was anesthetized and could neither feel nor move. In his euphoric
state, he could not pay attention as the as the surgeon described
what was happening to him.
"Today I am using micro-miniature appliances, incorporating
fiber optics and lasers, to demonstrate some inspiring developments
in surgery."
"First, I am performing liposuction to effect body contouring.
As I am sure you are well aware, this is a high profit margin
business for us. However, I am going beyond conventional routine
here today. In order to create on the subject the smallest
waistline possible, as called for in the treatment protocol."
"Accordingly I have made a small incision at the spine where
the lowest set of ribs connect. I then insert a multiple lead fiber
optic cable to carry video, transmit laser energy, and control the
miniaturized equipment."
The surgeon accomplished this and went on."Now I simply cut
through each rib at the spine, severing them. I inject a
radioactive compound, with a short half-life, into the marrow to
kill it. Next I apply a sealant to the spine to prevent any attempt
at reattachment.The rest is simple. The bones die and gradually
become brittle. Subsequently, the subject is exposed to the ultra-
sound shock treatment used to break up kidney stones. This shatters
the now fragile bone, and the body assimilates the fragments as it
would any source of calcium." The surgeon finished up.
"Another advantage of this procedure is that there is no
scarring. Surgical adhesive is applied to the entry puncture, and
we are done." The surgeon departed with a smattering of applause
from the gallery.
Another surgeon appeared in greens. "Good morning. I am going
to continue the physique contouring started by my esteemed
colleague. As you know the subject of weight reduction is
complicated by the fact that once formed by the body, fat cells are
never destroyed. When the body is starved, as when dieting, they
just give up their fat and remain where they are, waiting to be
refilled. Liposuction as performed earlier does remove these, but
here I venture a step further."
The surgeon did something to Joe's hip.
"I separate the fat cells by centrifuging them, then filter
them to a uniform size with a permeable membrane. These cells are
collected in a tank and, using a process I call lipoaugmentation,
re-inserted into the body according to a computer generated matrix.
You now need only place the subject on a high fat diet. When the
fat cells refill, the body assumes the desired profile."
"Notice that I have inserted a probe into the hipbone to
function as an dispenser. It serves as a reference point for the
matrix, and the re-introduced empty fat cells are deposited around
it automatically by the computer."
Nothing more was said as the machines performed their work
with mechanical efficiency. The surgeon readjusted the probe to
several points on Joe's hips and buttocks. Eventually, everything
was removed.
At this point two attendants came and rolled Joe over very
carefully. Joe stared up at the ceiling wondering what was going
on. He languished in daydreams, unable to focus on the activity
going on around him. He shut his eyes.
The surgeon, meanwhile, had gone to work on Joe's chest. The
needle was inserted down the center of each nipple to the
breastbone. The surgeon took notice that they were not the typical
vestigial nipples of most males, but rather they exhibited the
developmental characteristics of a pubescent female. The machine
completed it's assignment and the next surgeon entered the
operating pit.
CHAPTER 6
After countless days of suffering, Joe awoke in a sunny room.
He was agonizingly stiff, swollen, and sore. He couldn't find a
part of his body that didn't hurt. Dr. van Damme and several other
persons stood around looking at him. Joe tried to move and
discovered that his entire body was restrained.
"Well it looks like our surprise is ready to be unwrapped,"
said Dr. van Damme."
Joe's torso and legs were released. He discovered that his
hands were surrounded by some type of box, his feet were in casts,
and he had no feeling or freedom of movement in his extremities.
"Dr. Morgan would you describe for us please your
modifications to the subject."
An elderly doctor came forward. "Thank you Dr. van Damme. This
is a procedure we have been working on at the request of another
branch of our organization. We have been able to alter the
subjects fingerprints."
The assembled onlookers showed great interest.
"Do go on Doctor."
"Well using computer controlled lasers at an oblique angle we
were able to eradicate the center of the original print. An
electron gun was used to, I guess burn would be the best term, a
pattern onto the finger. The resultant scarring is regulated, and
becomes indistinguishable from the loops and whorls of a natural
print. With a sufficiently sophisticated program you can not only
change someone's prints, but give him another person's."
Understanding the possibilities inherent in this, the crowd
murmured it's approval. Another doctor was working on releasing
Joe's feet from their confinement. At Dr. van Damme's cue he
explained what he had done.
"What you are looking at gentlemen represents a turning point
in reconstructive bone surgery. I have actually accomplished two
feats here, if you'll pardon the pun. I have taken the subjects
feet and rebuilt them to Dr. van Damme's specifications. What were
a man's size ten wide are now a perfect woman's size eight medium."
There was talking by his audience but no questions,so he
continued. "What is really interesting are the other adjustments I
was able to make. You know how we podiatrists tell the girls to
stay off of high heels. Slaves to fashion that they are, they never
listen to us and, as a result, suffer many foot ailments as a
result. It seems that the human foot was just not designed to walk
in high heels."
"Doctors, what I have done, is to devise and create such a
foot! I strengthened the weight bearing bones and made alignment
changes to the metatarsal bones. These feet could run a marathon in
spike heels."
The amazement of the group was apparent.
"And now last, but certainly not least, Dr. Brenner will
enlighten us as to his accomplishments."
"Thank you Dr. van Damme. I too work in reconstructive
surgery. One problem faced in severe damage to the hands and feet,
is the permanent loss of nail growth, which serves to protect the
fingers and toes. Our material department has been able to
fabricate an acrylic polymer that is indestructible by any means
available to us here. What this means is that we can formulate a
replacement nail that will last forever."
The Doctor busied himself with the box which held Joe's left
hand. "You have to be very precise in your measurements with these
because once they set, that's it. These were modeled to Dr. van
Damme's specifications and have been anchored to the subjects
finger bones."
Looking at Joe, he giggled and said, "I would avoid countries
which practice torture if I were you, young man. I can guarantee
that your fingers will pull off before those nails do."
Still groggy, Joe just looked at him blankly. His hand was
freed from the box. Joe tried to move his fingers, but they were
too sore. He held his hand up to his face and gasped. At the end of
each finger was a long oval nail at least an inch long.
AND THEY WERE BRIGHT RED!
The doctor went on, "These nails will take some getting used
to and I must warn you to be careful until you are accustomed to
them. They could be dangerous."
Addressing Dr. van Damme he went on. " I believe you will find
that these nails will not chip and the colors will not fade."
Joe's other hand was freed and it joined it's mate. Joe
stared, in shock, at the long red talons, now permanently attached
to his fingers. The doctor released Joe's feet from their
containers.
"I also took the liberty of replacing the subjects toenails
while I was at it."
Joe struggled painfully to move to a position from which he
could see his feet. He was rewarded with the sight of ten cute
little red toenails peeking back at him. He noticed that his feet
were indeed much smaller and somehow more graceful. He moved them
and observed that they flexed in a peculiar manner.
Engrossed with his fingers, Joe failed to notice Dr. van Damme
motion everyone to leave. he looked up to find her alone with him.
"Please doctor. Tell me what's going on here. Why are these
things being done to me?"
"Because, Mr. Watson, you are at hand. We needed a test
subject and you're it. Also, as I once told you, we have contracted
with your wife to erase any trace of Joe Watson from the face of
the earth and dispense appropriate retribution in the process."
Joe wanted to learn more but she spun on her heels and walked
out.
CHAPTER 7
Two large attendants entered Joe's room. The larger of the two
men motioned for Joe to get up. "Come. Bath." He said.
Joe stared at him. "What."
Having been instructed in his native tongue to compel instant
obedience. The man slapped Joe's face so violently that Joe cried.
Having learned his first lesson, Joe painfully maneuvered his
body to where the attendants could help him out of bed and walk him
to the bathroom. He noticed that the bathroom was austere and
lacked a mirror.
While bathing under the observation of one of the attendants,
Joe noticed the curious lack of hair on his body. "Oh well. It'll
grow back," he thought.
After poking himself with his new fingernails a couple of
times, he learned to move slowly and carefully. He went to wash his
hair. "So they shaved my head too."
While washing his face he found out about his peculiar lack of
eyebrows. After he had dried off Joe was handed what looked like a
standard green hospital gown. It was different from the normal
hospital gown in two respects. It was made of silk instead of the
normal cotton, pulled over the head rather than tying up the back,
and fell to mid thigh.
Joe was able to return to bed unassisted. Walking back, he
noticed unaccustomed pressure on his feet and tension in his calf
muscles.
While Joe had been in the bath, the other attendant had been
making up his bed. Joe discovered that the new sheets and pillow
cases were slinky and slippery.
"Well I'll be," he thought. "Satin sheets. At least they go
first class here."
Joe began to relax. Now that feeling had returned to his body,
he took stock of himself. The stiffness and soreness had been
reduced by the hot bath. There was a odd itching sensation at
various points on his body. He probed his hips and buttocks were
the feeling was concentrated. Nothing seemed wrong. He scratched
his chest which also itched. He touched a nipple that was swollen
and sensitive. Pulling out the front of his gown he observed that
his nipples were enlarged. Further investigation disclosed the
presence of a hard lump in each breast.
"Probably a reaction to some new drug they're testing on me,"
thought Joe. "Just my luck, they're probably looking for a cure for
breast cancer."
One of the attendants returned with a food tray. After setting
a table in place over Joe's bed, he put the tray on it and left.
The smell of the food reminded Joe that he was ravenous. Opening
the plates he discovered an abundance of food. He found that he had
to adjust his handling of utensils to compensate for his long
fingernails. Still, he dug in with abandon. Pancakes with syrup,
eggs, bacon, milk, and orange juice. He ate it all and sated, Joe
relaxed and was soon asleep.
Dr. van Damme and Dave Weinstein, her behavior modification
specialist, watched the sleeping man on the monitor in her office.
"So, we are acclimating him to the feel of materials such as
silk and satin on his skin." Asked Dr. van Damme.
"Yes Doctor. The texture can sometimes produce a emotion of
resistance in a male. His subconscious knows that the cloth is
typical of female garb and objects because of the inconsistency
with his masculinity. By establishing the initial contact with such
textiles in a non-threatening environment, the male accepts their
presence and eventually regards them as normal."
"Thank you Dave. Keep me appraised of his progress."
CHAPTER 8
Joe sat up in bed watching television. He was wearing an
athletic shirt and boxer shorts. So what if they were red and soft.
Besides, it was all they gave him.
Any woman, though, would have recognized what Joe was wearing;
a satin camisole and tap pants set. And they weren't red, they were
fuchsia. A distinction that Joe wasn't aware of, yet.
Joe finished his candy bar and drank the last of his
soda,thinking. "I shouldn't be eating all this junk food. I'll get
fat."
Joe was getting fat, but that didn't bother him too deeply.
What did was the way it was being distributed around his body. He
couldn't view himself in a mirror, but he could comprehend that his
ass was getting fat and so were his hips. He couldn't see any
increase in his waistline though. Indeed, it seemed to be getting
thinner, so he didn't let it worry him.
Joe's nipples were another story, they had continued to swell.
The increase in their size was evident under his gown. The red
areas around the nipples had expanded to the size of a half-dollar
while the hard lumps on his chest had softened and were expanding.
Dr. van Damme entered the room on one of her infrequent
visits. "And how are we today Mr. Watson?"
"I, ... am fine."
"Excellent. Please be so good as to get out of bed."
Aware that his attendants were at most a call away, Joe
hastened to do her bidding.
"Get undressed and put these on." She directed.
Not daring to disobey, Joe doffed his clothing and took that
which she offered. "These" were a matching gown and robe. No
pretense was offered to disguise their feminine style. The gown was
blue satin and was edged in lace on the hem, and bodice. The robe
matched the gown. It tied at the waist and fell to his knees.
"We're going for a walk Joe."
"But, Doctor, I have had trouble walking ever since that
doctor worked on my feet."
At this Dr. van Damme produced two items. "Here. These should
help you walk easier."
Joe was speechless. she had given him two tiny high heeled
shoes. There wasn't much to them. Just a satin strap across the
instep with some fluff attached.
"They are called mules Joe. Sit down."
Joe sat and Dr. van Damme placed the mules on his feet. She
was not surprised to find them a perfect fit.
Joe noticed that his feet felt relaxed and natural in them. He
stood up. After an initial shakiness, he managed to walk around
fairly easily. "Wow. My feet feel so much better in these things."
"It seems Joe, that when the doctor modified your feet to
accommodate high heels, that he made it difficult, if not
impossible, for you to walk barefoot for any great distance or
stand for any length of time. Your feet now need the support these
type of shoes provide so you'd better get used to wearing them. Now
follow me please."
As he walked Joe appreciated the way the shoes made his feet
more comfortable. In addition, due to his insecurity about his
height, he liked the fact that they made him taller.
"When I get out of here, I'm going to buy some elevator
shoes," he thought.
Joe followed the Doctor to an empty room where he was told to
strip and lay down on the bed. She returned and gave him a small
glass of a bitter clear liquid to drink. Joe immediately felt
lightheaded.
"What happens now Doc? Gonna let me in on your big plan?"
"Yes, perhaps it is time Joe. You might recall that I said
that we were going to change your appearance and personality."
"Yes, I remember."
"Well we are using you as a test subject for many new drugs
and processes which will reduce suffering in many diverse groups of
people. You are, you might say, a human guinea pig. Unlike many
test animals though, when we are done with you, you will be well
taken care of for the rest of your life. Which, I might add, due to
the nature of some of the experiments may turn out to be abnormally
long."
"In addition to those experiments, in order to fulfill our
contract with your wife, we have put many changes into effect on
your appearance and now we start on your personality."
Seeming to float above reality, Joe giggled. "So what exactly
is it you're changing me into?"
"That's the fun part Joe, and also your punishment. In the
past you have displayed an attraction for large breasted blonde
women that borders on compulsion. I believe, therefore, that you
will be pleased to know that you will soon be joining their ranks.
My only hope is that your new form will provide you with as much
enjoyment as those of your playmates did."
Finding this hilarious for some reason. Joe continued to
giggle as he drifted off into unconsciousness.
CHAPTER 9
Joe's inanimate form lay on a platform surrounded by many
pieces of complex machinery. Countless wires ran from the apparatus
to points all over his body. His head from the throat up was
enclosed in a sealed container from which the top of his bald head
projected. Inside, Joe's unconscious eyes stared blankly into the
darkness.
An incision was made around the crown of Joe's scalp, which
was then peeled back to reveal his skull. A precision micro-saw
then cut a circle through the bone. The bone was carefully removed
revealing Joe's brain. A team of surgeons spent some time
implanting a mesh of fine wires in Joe's cerebellum.
The leader explained their actions. "What we are doing here is
connecting the subject's brain for a function plot using resonance
mapping. An external impulse is applied to the body, or suggested
to the subconscious, the brain responds. This point is then plotted
on a three dimensional map, and stored in computer memory. This is
not new technology, it has existed for at least ten years. The
notable accomplishment here, is this; knowing where the function
signals the brain, we now can duplicate that signal directly to the
brain using a technique I call proto-resonance induction. What this
means is we can act directly on brain responses, both conscious and
unconscious. Leaving the conductive mesh under the skull will allow
for future alterations without surgery. The potential for treatment
of mental illnesses and obsessions such as drug or alcohol
addiction is unlimited."
"Is the subject ready?"
"Good. Let's proceed."
"To start the demonstration we will apply external stimulation
to the genitals."
After a short wait a green light came on.
"Good. We have that mapped. Now we apply external stimulation
to the subjects breasts."
When the light came on he continued. "Now while stimulating
the breasts we apply a signal to the area controlled by genital
stimulation. The result is that the subject now finds manual
stimulation of the breasts a sexually arousing experience."
"Now here is how I can influence behavior. The computer is
suggesting an embarrassing situation to the subconscious mind. It
is plotted and now the computer suggests a new experience."
He looked at some papers.
"Yes, this one is being seen bare-chested. While the allusion
is in the mind, the signal is sent to the embarrassment center of
the brain. The subject will now find the bare chest a source of
embarrassment. You can see how this can be used to substitute
desired behavior patterns for unwanted ones."
"To test the effectiveness of this process we will attempt to
affect other senses." The doctor pushed a button.
"What I have done is release into the subjects nostrils a
vapor containing an extract of the pheromone produced by a human
female in heat. Normally the conscious mind is unaware of the
presence of it. Ah yes, we have response."
The doctor pushed another button. "I have just released a
vapor containing the pheromones excreted by a sexually aroused
male. I apply the previous signal and, voila! I trust I do not have
to draw you a picture."
"I am doing nothing here to affect the subject's prior sexual
urges. Rather, you might say, we are expanding them. This machine
can be programmed to provide any number of effects and can be left
to run automatically. The response can be strengthened or weakened
by adjusting the signal strength. Hypnosis can further reinforce
any suggestions which may encounter resistance from the
subconscious. The machine will now finish the task. Any questions?"
There were none and the group left the room. The lights were
turned out leaving the blinking machines as the only source of
illumination.
Inside the device, a picture of a naked giant breasted blonde,
in a suggestive pose, was displayed to Joe's unconscious mind. The
computer noted the strong response. A series of pictures of
handsome and virile young men were flashed at Joe's mind. Along
with each one went the feedback of the previously recorded signal.
Next a little cam whirled. Oxygen was routed to the tubes in
Joe's nostrils and he was influenced to breathe through his nose.
A probe was inserted into Joe's mouth while a low level signal was
sent to his pleasure center. Joe's subconscious recognized the
shape as that of an erect penis but the constant pleasure signal
overrode it's objection. The probe was pushed in and out,
eventually reaching deep into Joe's throat.
Previously recorded signals controlled Joe's responses. The
gag reflex was muted and his throat was compelled to produce a
swallowing motion. The pleasure signal increased in intensity. The
computer then released a measure of fluid which in consistency ,
taste, and temperature duplicated that of semen. Some was
swallowed, some overflowed his mouth and ran over his face. Joe's
body, craving salt due to his diet, savored the fluid. Concurrently
the machine pulsed the strongest possible stimulation to Joe's
pleasure centers.
The machine ran through it's program, scattering cues and
responses throughout Joe's mind. While Joe slept he became a new
man. Only he didn't know it.
CHAPTER 10
Joe came to in his bed. He was wearing a baby doll nightgown
and panties made of satin and lace. Recalling Dr. van Damme's
threat to turn him into a big boobed blonde, he stuck his hand
under the elastic of his panties.
"Yes sir, little buddies safe and sound," he thought.
"So much for that crazy doctor and her plan."
Joe's reverie was interrupted by the entrance of the most
gorgeous babe he had seen in awhile. Even in her starched nurses
uniform, Joe could make out the outline of her fantastic figure.
Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a pony tail. She was
tall. About six feet of everything that Joe desired in a woman. He
could feel his cock stir in it's satin confinement.
"Hi. I'm Monica. I'll be your nurse from now on. And you are
Mr. Watson?"
"Last time I looked. Where's the two thugs?"
"Oh they're around somewhere, I'm sure."
An attendant brought in dinner then left.
"I'll bet you're hungry Mr. Watson. You've been out for
awhile."
"How long was I out? What happened to me?"
"I don't know Mr. Watson." Lied the pretty girl. "I just
started on your case. You'll have to ask Dr. van Damme. Here you
go. Bon appetit."
Joe realized he was starving and dug in with a vengeance,
wolfing down salad, milk, rolls and butter, prime rib, mashed
potatoes and gravy, and finishing with apple pie ala mode. Joe's
meal had tasted pretty bland. He mentioned it to the attendant who
told him he had been put on a no-salt diet on Doctor's orders
Monica left with the tray. Joe marvelled at his new found
ability to put food away. It dawned on Joe that he was handling his
long fingernails with no trouble. In fact, he hardly noticed them
anymore.
"Boy it's amazing what the human body can adapt to," he
thought. "There's got to be a way to get them off when I get out of
here."
Joe hadn't examined the rest of his body and what a surprise
was he in for. His eyes widened as his arm brushed against his
chest. Pulling up his gown, he stared dumbfounded. What had been a
case of swelling nipples were now full-blown breasts. Not quite
massive, but definitely prominent.
What had been swollen nipples were now elongated cones,
projecting out from abundant hemispheres of flesh. The aureoles
around his nipples had continued to expand and they and the nipples
were now a dark pink, almost brown.
Frightened, yet curious at the same time, Joe timidly brought
his right hand up and touched his left breast. He was rewarded with
a strong sensation of pleasure. He grasped the nipple between his
index finger and thumb. The pleasurable feeling increased as he
increased the pressure on the nipple.
He watched in amazement as the nipple responded to his touch.
It enlarged and became rigid. As Joe rolled the nipple between his
fingers he felt his penis awaken.
Stopping for a minute, Joe padded to the door. Satisfied that
the hallway was empty, he went to the bathroom. Elated that his
cock was working again, Joe raised his gown, pulled down his
panties, and then sat on the toilet, fondling his breasts and
stroking his cock, awash in pleasure.
Joe's cock never did become totally erect, but finally spasmed
and discharged a watery impotent fluid. Joe wrote this off to it's
long inactivity, wiped himself off, replaced his attire, and
flushed the toilet.
Proud of his performance, he returned to bed. Smugly
thinking. "So that doctor thinks she can turn me into a bimbo. Well
we'll just see about that!"
He hadn't noticed how his forearms brushed against his hips as
he walked.
In her office, Dr .van Damme turned away from the monitor. "So
Dave, is this all part of the plan?" She asked her director of
behavior modification.
"Yes Doctor. In fact, he is ahead of schedule."
"What's next Dave?'
"I understood doctor, that there were some more physical
changes to be concluded before we went on psychologically."
"My next stage is to get him dressing in feminine apparel."
"And how will you accomplish that?" Asked Dr. van Damme.
"During his session with Dr. Baxter's mind machine," he used
staff slang, " I had instilled in Joe, the psycho-sexual response
of the typical transvestite. You may be aware that these are men
who feel compelled to dress in women's clothing, and obtain great
sexual stimulation and pleasure from doing so. I masked this
character trait, so we need only hypnotize him, give him the
release cue, and his first experience in female finery will
conclude his imprinting. After that, I'd venture a guess that you
couldn't keep him out of women's clothing. Would you like me to do
this now?"
"No Dave, not just yet. Let's allow Joe to reach his full
development. No sense wasting money on clothing now, that will no
longer fit him when his tits and ass stop growing."
CHAPTER 11
Joe finished another enormous breakfast. Many days had left
him no illusions as to where the food was going, but he felt no
urge to diet. His breasts were expanding mounds. Jokingly he mused,
"If this keeps up I may need a bra." Rejecting the notion as
trivial, he gave it no further thought. Everything would be
corrected once he got out of this madhouse. "Let them have their
little fun. We'll see whose laughing at the end."
Joe was now aware of the fact that he had to hold his arms out
away from his body as he walked. They couldn't hang straight down;
his hips got in the way . He also had to swing them in an
unfamiliar manner, to compensate for the oscillations of his
tremendous buttocks as he walked. He felt like his whole center of
gravity had shifted. Without his being aware of it, his gait had
modified itself to counterbalance his new distribution of mass.
Dr. van Damme and her chief plastic surgeon watched from her
office as Joe went about his morning toilet. "What are the changes
you want done to this one?" Inquired the surgeon.
"Just some minor detail work; the ears pinned back, the nose
bobbed and those little implants put in to give him those high sexy
cheekbones. I also want his eyes opened for more expression, and
his lips made as full as your skill allows."
"No problem there. I'm ready when you are."
"Good. In a couple of days then."
By now Joe had dried off, and Monica was giving him a rubdown
on the bed.
"You may find this interesting Doctor," said Dr. van Damme.
"What's that?"
"The subject is being applied an experimental medication that
will make us wealthy beyond our dreams. We have had great success
retarding the aging process using injections of fetal material,
however, many people objected on ethical grounds. The lab was able
to extract the compound that produced that result and was able to
synthesize it. Applied in a regimen of topical application it
reverses the effect of aging on the skin."
"I remember the millions that poured out for Retin-A which was
of dubious effectiveness," stated the surgeon.
"The money involved here will make that seem like a child's
kiddy bank. Take this subject for instance. For several months now
his skin has been replacing itself under the influence of female
hormones. It now has all the characteristics of female skin, but he
is still thirty-one years old. When his treatment is complete he
will have the skin texture of an eighteen year old girl."
"Mmmm. Interesting."
Joe relaxed and savored the tingling feeling that covered his
body. It was almost as if his skin was alive. He wondered if he
would get a chance to masturbate this morning. His cock and nipples
stiffened in anticipation.
Meanwhile ... Back in New York.
Joe Watson's son, Robert, confronted his newly appointed
guardian, Gloria Watson. "I don't care what the court says, my
father wanted you out of his life. Just because he never changed
his will doesn't give you the right to take over my life."
"Now Bob, that's no way to talk. It seems to me he didn't want
you cluttering up his life either. I understand that, except for
your support money and a birthday card once a year, you never saw
or heard from him. Let's put the past behind us and work through
these hard times together."
"Fuck you! Just wait till I get control of my money. I'll see
to it that you're finished in this town."
"Fine Bob. If that's how you want it ... "
CHAPTER 12
Joe awoke from a tortured dream, only to find his reality just
as severe. He couldn't open his eyes or move his lips. His throat
burned, his mouth was dry, and every part of his face ached. Just
then he felt the sting of a needle entering his arm, relief, and
... blackness.
Joe sipped his milkshake. That's all the nourishment he'd had
for some time now. He wore big braces on his teeth which prevented
the intake of more solid food. The pads had been removed from his
eyes and lips. He still couldn't speak.
Dr. van Damme, Monica, and several other people filed into his
room. One of the men went to work removing Joe's braces. "I've
straightened, capped, and evened his teeth up." Looking in Joe's
mouth, he said "They're flawless."
Dr. van Damme and another doctor looked at Joe's face
critically, the surgeon grabbing his head and turning it this way
and that.
"Exquisite Doctor. Once again you've outdone yourself," said
Dr. van Damme.
The surgeon acknowledged her compliment with a nod.
"So what do you have to say Joe?" asked Dr. van Damme.
Joe tried to tell her that he was fine but no matter what he
did, no sound came from his mouth.
"What's the matter Joe? Cat got your tongue?"
The crowd laughed.
By trying to hum Joe was finally able to produce a noise. It
was a high-pitched squeak.
"O.K., enough fooling around. What's wrong Joe, is that you've
been given a new larynx. Many people loose theirs to throat cancer
very year and an manmade one that won't be noticed will allow
thousands to speak again and rejoin society. The only difficulty is
that the muscles that operate your new voice, function differently
from your old ones. Mrs. Johnson here will be your speech therapist
and teach you how to speak again."
The crowd departed and Joe was left alone for his first
session with Mrs. Johnson. As he tried to speak he noticed that, in
addition to his throat, his lips felt odd.
The following days reminded Joe of the movie "My Fair Lady".
He felt like Eliza Doolittle learning to speak. Not only that, but
after several weeks he spoke like her too! Not with a British
accent, but in a sweet soprano voice.
Two things about this latest development bothered Joe in
particular. First, he had to learn to operate new muscles to
pronounce each word. This was a long process and so far he had only
the vocabulary of a first grader, but Mrs. Johnson had told him
that her sessions with him were almost over. Secondly, he didn't
like the enunciation patterns that Mrs. Johnson had imparted to
him; he now spoke in the slow breathy drawl of a seductive young
woman.
CHAPTER 13
One morning, Monica and another girl entered Joe's room. Joe
was wearing a pink satin chemise gown with spaghetti straps, trying
to ignore what was under it. His breasts had finally stopped
growing, but it was too late as far as Joe was concerned; the new
appendages were immense.
Joe didn't joke about needing a bra anymore. Now he wondered
when he'd be given one to take the considerable strain of
supporting the pendulous mammaries off of his pectoral muscles.
"Good morning Joe. This is Betsy. She's a cosmetologist and
will be working on you today."
Joe groaned inwardly. He'd suspected that this would happen
sooner or later. It seemed that every occurrence brought him closer
to Dr. van Damme's promised outcome.
Betsy fussed around Joe's face. He felt her applying make-up
to his lips, eyelids, and cheeks. When she was done, she took Joe's
picture. The process was repeated several times.
Betsy was talking with Dr. van Damme as Dave Weinstein,
Monica, and a strange man looked on.
"What color is his hair going to be," asked Betsy.
"Blonde." Replied Dr. van Damme. Thinking "As if we ever had
a choice."
"In that case, I'd recommend this style."
"That's too subdued. I had something a little more extreme in
mind."
"That we can do." Said Betsy, getting some colored markers and
making changes to the close-up photographs of Joe's made up face.
When she was finished Dr. van Damme smiled and nodded her approval.
"What do you think?" She asked the strange man.
Looking at the pictures, he replied, "No problem. Child's
play. I'll go get my gear ready."
After he left, Dr. van Damme addressed Dave Weinstein. "While
Joe is under for this, I want you to remove the block on his
transvestite programming."
"Please get up and come with me Joe."
Joe had been expecting lunch, which was late. Instead here was
Monica telling him to come with her. Too apprehensive to complain,
Joe swung out of bed, slipped on his high heeled mules, and grabbed
a robe which matched his chemise.
Joe tried to remain self-possessed as he followed Monica down
the hall, but was not very successful. He knew he presented a
spectacle; a bald man with the figure of a centerfold. Walking in
his high heels produced a loud racket which resounded throughout
the corridors. With each step his large breasts bounced awkwardly,
the nipples rubbing against his satin gown, providing unwanted
stimulation. He tried to straighten up and not swing his hips so
much. This made his breasts even more prominent and walking more
tedious.
They entered a room containing a bed and some unfamiliar
gadgets.
"Strip and lie down on the bed."
Joe shed his robe and chemise. He felt uneasy, not being aware
of his implanted need to conceal his breasts.
The strange man entered and Joe experienced intense
embarrassment and instinctively covered his breasts with his arms.
He was grateful when Monica covered him with a sheet, over which
she placed a plastic mat for protection.
Monica produced a gas mask. Knowing the futility of
resistance, Joe breathed deeply. As his awareness ebbed Joe saw the
man raise what looked like a dentists drill and attach a bottle of
red fluid to it.
"Wait a minute, that's a ... "
The tattooist turned on his needle and started to outline the
unconscious man's appealing lips. He thought to himself, "Real
pretty, this one's gonna be real pretty."
CHAPTER 14
It didn't take Joe's, now youthful, skin long to recover from
being dyed. While his face was still covered up, he was moved to a
new room. He saw it for the first time the morning Monica took off
his bandages. It was large, sunny, and finished in an extremely
feminine decor. Joe was delighted by his new room, although he
didn't know why.
"No more breakfast in bed for you." Monica told him.
"This morning you get dressed and eat in the cafeteria with
the rest of us peasants. Now go and wash up, while I lay out your
clothes."
Joe felt anticipation grow in him for some reason. "Hey, it's
not such a big deal, going out for breakfast," he told himself,
mistaking it's source.
There was no mirror in the bathroom, so Joe couldn't observe
the remodeling that had been done to his face. However, as he
washed, Joe could perceive some changes by touch; his nose felt
smaller, his lips were fleshy and appeared to project out, over
teeth that didn't seem to meet just right. He wondered about the
tattooing on his face.
"I think I read somewhere that they can be removed by lasers,"
he thought to himself.
Then it occurred to Joe. "She's going to make me wear women's
clothing today."
He was surprised that the notion didn't trouble him. In fact,
he found the idea slightly pleasing. His worries over what had been
done to his face faded, as he thought about how Monica would dress
him.
Joe came out wearing only a robe. Monica handed him a pair of
pink satin and lace panties. Holding them up, Joe looked at them
and thought "these are going to be way too big for me." He pulled
them up his hairless legs and adjusted them around his hips. To his
great surprise, they were a perfect fit, except in the crotch where
his cock and balls were obvious by their outline. The panties
delighted Joe. He ran his hand over his ass, enjoying it's touch
through the satin on his soft skin.
"When I get out of here, I'm going to have some satin briefs
made for me," he decided.
Monica held up a matching bra. Joe stared at it, speculating
on how his breasts would look, supported in the sheer cups. Monica
showed Joe how to don the bra. She adjusted the straps so that his
breasts were supported, and at the same time, displayed to their
best advantage. At the same time, Monica was sure to follow Dave
Weinstein's instructions to caress Joe's breasts and cock whenever
the opportunity presented itself. "Wow, a D-cup, and it's a tight
fit. He better give up those candy bars." Monica thought to
herself.
Joe marvelled at the sensation of his breasts in their
delicate confinement. He could view his nipples and aureoles
clearly through the lace cups. He found the sight thrilling and his
cock stirred inside his pretty panties.
Monica interrupted his thoughts."Sit down here Joe."
Motioning Joe to the chair, she held up a pair of what he
recognized as panty-hose.
"Here Joe. You'll have to be very careful putting these on
with those dragon-lady nails of yours. They're ultra-sheer and it
won't take much to put runs in them. You pull the legs up like
this, put your foot in; the seam goes across your toes, pull it up
to your thighs, then do the other leg."
Joe followed her instructions.
"Good. Now position the crotch and pull the panty smoothly
over your hips."
Joe stood there amazed at the feel of his legs encased in the
taupe colored nylon.
"Man, I didn't know girls clothes could be such a turn on."
Joe thought, not realizing he was talking aloud.
"Oh yes Joe. They can be so thrilling."
Joe admired the way his legs glistened in the delicate
hosiery, delighting in the sensations he felt and the sound his
legs made when they brushed each other.
Monica produced a slip, made of the same pink satin as Joe's
bra and panties, with a lacy bodice and hemline. She put it over
his head and let it slide down. Arranging the slip so that it hung
properly, she noticed that the profiles of Joe's excited nipples
were clearly discernable. The slip was a snug fit across Joe's
broad hips and Monica could see the outline of his stiff cock
underneath it.
Looking in the large walk-in closet Monica was amazed at the
collection of clothing there; shoes, dresses, blouses, skirts,
gowns, everything a fashionable young woman could want. It was all
custom designed and made. She felt a momentary pang of jealousy
which vanished when she thought. "He'll never buy clothes off the
rack. He's a misses size ten with a size two waist and size
fourteen bust and hips."
Returning with a pair of red leather pumps, Monica slipped
them onto Joe's feet. "Wow. How does he do it? Those heels must be
at least five inches high." Monica thought, watching Joe maneuver
effortlessly in his pumps.
Monica held out Joe's first dress as he stepped into it.
Resistance was the furthest thing from his mind; the transvestite
programming had taken control and he was really getting into the
swing of dressing up.
Monica guided Joe's arms into the half sleeves and pulled the
dress up over him. Made of pink polyester with the look and feel of
satin, it was a jacquard knit with a floral pattern woven into the
material. Making sure that the slip was positioned, and after
brushing against Joe's nipples, Monica pulled up the zipper. The
dress was a tight fit across Joe's bust and hips.
The dress started with a high jewel neckline. Princess seaming
ran down the front, accenting Joe's large bust, ending in a peplum
that swaddled his womanly hips. The skirt of the pretty dress
appeared from under the peplum, continued to below Joe's knees,
with a slit in back so that he could walk. Monica buttoned the
half-sleeves at Joe's elbows.
Joe looked down. His forearms which had been tan, muscular,
and covered with wiry black hair were now pale white, slender, and
hairless. They extended from the sleeves to end in delicate hands
with long and luxurious fingernails.
Monica put a belt, covered in the same fabric as the dress,
around Joe's narrow waist and drew it tight. Joe was encased in
satin and was he ever turned on. Glancing down, he noticed his hard
nipples, their outline projecting through his clothing. Unable to
resist, Joe brought his hands up to his breasts and started
kneading them. Excited beyond reason, Joe dropped his right hand
and caressed his cock under his dress. This slight stimulation
proved to be too much, as his cock erupted and pumped it's load of
cum into his panties.
Joe was dazed. Never before had he experienced such an erotic
rush. He stared at the expanding damp spot in his lap, then looked
sheepishly at Monica. In his sugary voice he stuttered "gee Monica.
I'm sorry. I didn't know ... "
Dr. van damme and Dave had witnessed Joe's impulsive
ejaculation in his feminine costume.
"Well Dave, it looks like your program worked."
"Yes Doctor, but we are at a critical juncture here. You see
Joe's behavior is characteristic of a transvestite, as we wanted.
The problem with this is, once a transvestite has experienced
relief through orgasm he feels guilty. All he wants to do is get
out of the clothes and forget about them until the next episode. We
planned for this and think we can interrupt the pattern.
Back in the room, Monica smiled sweetly at Joe. "Don't get
upset Joe."
Taking him by the shoulders, she forced him to look her in the
eyes. "What happened to you is perfectly normal. Sexy clothing can
be such a turn on. Now let's get you cleaned up."
Monica reached down and undid the belt. Turning Joe around,
she unzipped his dress, eased it over his shoulders, and let it
slide down his body into a soft pile around his feet. She repeated
the process with his slip and it joined his dress on the floor.
Joe stepped out of the pile of clothing and turned around to
face Monica. She placed her fingers under the waistbands of Joe's
panty-hose and panties. Going to her knees, Monica pulled Joe's
lingerie over his hips and down to his ankles.
To Joe's great surprise, Monica started licking the cum from
his abdomen; she had never before shown the slightest interest in
intimacy with him.
Monica took his wilted cock in her mouth and Joe felt himself
becoming aroused by her ministrations. His cock tried to stiffen
and his nipples got hard. Monica sucked his balls and cock entirely
into her mouth and played with them with her tongue. She felt Joe's
cock start to get hard and released it from her mouth. She had Joe
slip off his pumps and remove his hose and panties. Joe stood there
wearing only his bra. He wished the pretty blonde would resume the
blowjob. She didn't.
Monica gave Joe a dressing gown to put on, which he did. He
was handed his hose and panties. "These have to be cleaned before
the cum dries in them," Monica informed him. "There is a bottle of
detergent for hand washing delicate fabrics under the sink. Follow
the instructions, roll them up in towel, then hang them over a bar
to dry. I'll take your dress and slip to the laundry and lay out
some other clothing."
As he washed out his lingerie, Joe found his thoughts
concentrating on what clothing Monica would dress him in next. He
found the contemplation exciting. "Damn," he thought, "What is it
about women's clothing?"
Joe doesn't know it yet," said Dave to Dr. van Damme, "but
from now on he'll find donning and wearing women's clothing to be
extremely arousing sexually."
"That's excellent," said Dr. van Damme. "Because that's all
he'll ever wear.
"Well, at least he has the body for it." rejoined Dave.
CHAPTER 15
"Take off your robe and bra," directed Monica.
Joe's inevitable modesty asserted itself. "Can't I leave it
on? It didn't get messed."
"Joe, as you learn to wear the clothing for which your body
has been designed, you'll find that, unlike your men's underwear,
different types of lingerie go with different outfits. What's right
with one, is inappropriate for another. Now get that bra off!"
Joe struggled with his long nails and the unfamiliar bra
fastening in the small of his back.
"I'd like to help you" thought Monica, "but you've got to
learn to manage in your new attire."
Joe got the clasp released and his breasts spilled out of the
bra's lacy embrace. He stood there naked, holding his bra in one
hand with his other arm across his chest.
"What a feminine pose," thought Monica.
Monica went through the dresser. "There doesn't seem to be
another pair of panty-hose," she lied. "I wonder what we can do?"
Trying to pretend as though this had not been meticulously
planned, Monica pawed through the drawers. "Ah, that's it."
Monica held out what looked like a black piece of lace with
strips hanging down. Joe recognized it as a garter belt. His wife
Gloria would never wear one, but some of his conquests had. Joe
blushed at thought of wearing the sexy garment yet, at the same
time, he found the idea thrilling.
Monica fastened the tiny garment around his slim waist,
adjusting it so that the garters hung down in the proper position.
"Sit down Joe."
He did, and she handed him a pair of sheer black stockings.
"Now carefully roll these up, fit the seam across your toes,
and then very carefully roll them up your leg."
Joe did as he was told with the first one. Monica demonstrated
how to connect the two garters. Joe put on the other stocking and
got the garters attached. Joe stood up and Monica took the slack
out of the suspenders, so that the stockings were held securely on
his shapely legs.
"What an odd sensation." Thought Joe, walking around to get
the hang of wearing a garter belt and nylons. He felt the garter
belt tight above his hips, unable to slip down, and the suspenders
flexing on his thighs as he walked, ensuring that his hose would
stay smooth.
"Here Joe, put this on."
Monica handed him a white bra. Joe put it on as he had been
shown previously. Hooking the bra up backwards, turning it around,
and then pulling it up over his breasts.
Joe immediately became aware of several differences; the cups
were not see through, but the profile of his nipples were
unmistakable as they pushed out against the nylon cups, there were
inflexible semi-circles under each cup, and the straps did not come
over the top, but rather down the side of each breast.
The bra provided firm support so his breasts wouldn't bounce
around uncontrollably, but at the same time it pushed Joe's titties
together, holding them up and out. Joe eyed the resulting cleavage.
It shocked him that there was so much of it, but secretly thrilled
him. As was evidenced by his semi-erect cock.
Monica held out what Joe thought were panties to match the
garter belt. He stepped into them and she pulled them up, over his
nylon covered legs. It wasn't a panty, but a very brief black satin
and lace bikini.
Monica adjusted it so that it rode on his hips. Joe's balls
were very tightly compressed, being forced up by the tight satin
crotch panel, which wasn't designed to hold them. Joe's erect cock
was held tightly against his abdomen, but the black lace wouldn't
stretch to cover the head of it.
"... Ah, Monica, maybe I should tuck it back between my legs?"
"Why Joe, whatever would you want to do that for?"
"You know ... to hide it."
"Why? You're a man. Aren't you?"
"Yes, but ... "
"It still works, as you demonstrated earlier. Perhaps you'd
like me to ask Dr. van Damme to have it removed?"
The suggestion chilled Joe. His cock and balls were the last
discernible evidence of his manhood.
"That crazy doctor won't cut them off, will she?" wailed Joe
in his girlish voice.
"Now Joe. How do I know what Dr. van Damme has in store for
you?" lied the pretty nurse.
Joe was really panicked. "Please don't let her cut my balls
off. Please get her to let me keep them."
Monica looked at the pretty man as he wept; her teasing him
had gotten out of hand. She had to get him re-interested in
dressing.
"O.K. Joe. I promise you, that I'll see to it, that you'll get
to keep your precious little balls."
Anxious to get the plan back on track, Monica held up a
sleeveless white silk blouse. Joe slipped his arms through the
delicate garment and Monica buttoned it up the back.
Joe looked down. The square necked blouse opened up about
half-way up his breasts, their creamy white tops were revealed, and
the cleavage created by Joe's underwire bra left nothing to any
onlookers imagination. The blouse was taut across Joe's bust. He
noticed the outline of his nipples projecting out against the silk.
"Is everything they make me wear going to fit like this?"
wondered Joe.
Monica handed Joe a pair of black patent leather pumps. Joe
sat down to put them on. Looking at the spike heels, he was amazed
that he could even stand up in them, let alone walk around.
Monica held out a black skirt as Joe stepped into it, then
tugged it up over his hips. It was a very tight fit. Joe had to
stand with his legs and knees pressed together, so she could get it
up, which only intensified the pressure on his already aching
balls. The skirt was made of black taffeta lined with acetate. Joe
liked the way it felt, but how could he walk in it. "Aren't skirts
supposed to have a slit in the back," he asked to himself.
Once in position, the skirt fell to his knees. Monica
struggled to get the zipper up over his ass. Finally it was up.
Joe looked down; he was mortified. The skirt was so tight that it
outlined everything underneath it. Not only could he see a panty-
line and the clips of his garters, but the profile of his balls and
erect cock were clearly outlined by the tight skirt as it pushed
them up against his body.
While Joe was considering his appearance, Monica wrapped a
wide black patent belt around his waist and cinched it tight. It
only contrasted the slender waist between his bust and hips. From
a large chest on the dresser, Monica selected some jewelry and
handed Joe a necklace of ebony beads and a matching bracelet.
Joe put them on. The bracelet dangled over his left hand and
the necklace settled in between his breasts, the black beads
drawing further attention to his creamy white cleavage. It was a
weird feeling, to have a necklace resting atop his breasts.
"Don't move Joe," said Monica.
She was holding what looked like large hoops of polished
ebony. Joe noticed that the circles didn't quite meet, but ended in
a little pin. He recognized them as earrings for pierced ears.
"What the ... " Joe said as Monica fiddled with his right
ear. He felt the post slide through a hole he hadn't known was
there, then a slight pinching sensation as the clasp was fastened.
Monica let the large earring dangle and Joe felt the weight of it
pull down on his earlobe. She had him put the other one in, moving
it about until he found the hole.
Monica gave Joe a black patent clutch. "What do I need this
for?" he asked.
"To carry your things in. In case you haven't noticed, your
skirt doesn't have any pockets."
"Well what sort of things do I have to carry around?'
"Not any make-up that's for sure, you silly boy," thought
Monica. Instead of telling him that she answered. "You never know
Joe. Let's start with a handkerchief."
She got a lacy hankie from the dresser and handed it to him.
"Come on Joe, let's go, before breakfast is over."
"Uh, Monica isn't there something else?"
"Why yes there is Joe. How silly of me to forget it."
She reached in the pocket of her uniform and pulled out a tag.
It read:
HELLO, MY NAME IS JOSEPH WATSON.
Monica attached it to the neckline of his blouse, right
between his breasts.
This, coupled with the conspicuous display of his breasts and
male organs, was to much for Joe.
He started to weep. "I meant, don't I get a wig to wear?"
"Why would you want to wear a wig Joe?"
"So I don't look so foolish."
"Well, I'm afraid Dr. van Damme wants you to appear as you
are, but I can assure you that you will have hair soon enough. Now
come on!"
The embarrassed man tried to follow her, but he could hardly
walk. By trial and error he figured out how to move; taking short
mincing steps with his legs pressed together, and moving mostly
below the knees. This delicate stride made his hips sway, even more
than they normally did, and his ass swing in a wide arc.
The sensations of wearing tight revealing feminine clothes
weren't the only things turning Joe on. The sounds he made as he
walked did also; his high heels clicked out a staccato beat which
echoed down the passageway, his nylon sheathed legs rubbed together
with a dainty sound, his skirt made delicious undertones as his
stockings slithered against the lining, and the swish, produced by
the friction between the lining and taffeta, as his hips gyrated in
their confining embrace.
Not only that but, pressed tightly between his tight skirt and
abdomen, Joe's cock was stimulated by the skirt shifting, every
time his hips moved.
Joe thought, "I'd better be careful, or I'll shoot a load in
these clothes too."
CHAPTER 16
Joe wondered why he hadn't drawn any attention in the
cafeteria. "Surely, I must have been a sight," he thought.
Joe didn't know that there were two good reasons for his not
causing a commotion; Dr. van Damme's staff was well trained not to
display interest in anything out of the ordinary, and they had all
seen more outlandish creatures than Joe Watson result from the
Doctor's experiments.
Monica hadn't allowed Joe his customary huge breakfast,
instead limiting him to cereal, skim milk, and fresh fruit.
Patting his taffeta wrapped behind Joe thought. "That's O.K.
I certainly don't need to put any more weight on."
Joe worried about how he would get it off, once he was
liberated from the island.
Back in his new room, Joe sat in a chaise lounge. He tried to
adjust his position so as to relieve the pressure on his testicles.
He felt very vulnerable with them exposed and constricted the way
they were. The strain on them did not abate and any movement merely
caused further discomfort. He found out that sitting still caused
him the least suffering.
The room was equipped with a television. Turning it on, Joe
observed nothing but soap operas. There were some magazines in a
holder by his chair. He looked through them. They were all fashion
and women's magazines; Cosmopolitan and the like. Joe had a sinking
spell when he saw the dates on them; he'd been here quite awhile.
Bored, he picked up an issue of Vogue and started thumbing
through it. Before long his transvestite inclinations had taken
over. Looking at a particularly charming evening gown, Joe thought
to himself. "I wonder how I would look in that?"
Just then Monica entered his room. "Get up Joe, you've got an
appointment."
"For what?"
"Don't you worry about that. Just get moving."
Joe tapped down the hall in his heels, attempting to keep up
with Monica in his restrictive apparel. Joe followed Monica into
what looked like a lecture hall. There was a chair in front
surrounded by machinery.
"Sit in the chair Joe."
Joe obeyed,and his aching balls were squeezed even more as he
settled his plump behind into the chair. Monica tightened straps
around his ankles, lap, waist, wrists, arms, and above his breasts.
A strap around his neck pulled him hard against the back of the
chair, but there was no headrest or support. Monica rubbed some
lotion all over his bald head.
"What's this? The electric chair?" he joked.
Monica didn't answer. Instead, she produced a ball gag, forced
it between his lips, and tied it in place. The lotion was then
applied to his forehead and eyelids.
People came in, seated themselves throughout the room, and
talked quietly among themselves. The room was almost full when Dr.
van Damme entered with a man. Joe recognized him as the Doctor who
had given him his fingernails. The group hushed as Dr. van Damme
introduced Dr. Brenner then sat down.
"Has the desensitizing agent been applied to the subject?" The
Doctor asked Monica.
"Yes sir."
"Good."
He pulled a piece of the equipment out, turned it on, and
swung it out on an extension over Joe's head.
"This is a further refinement of my work with the acrylics
that produced the subject's fingernails. First I turn on the laser
and outline the area to be covered."
As he talked he rotated the machine completely around Joe,
keeping it focused on his head.
"The outline is stored in the computer's memory. Then I just
turn it on like this."
There was a humming noise, not unlike a sewing machine, and
Joe could feel a vibration in his head.
"The color is selected, the machine mixes it, and then
extrudes it as a fiber which is randomly varied in cross-section
and color for a natural appearance. Select the length carefully
because, like the fingernails, once it's formed it's forever. The
strands won't burn, fade, can't be cut or dyed, but at least you
don't have to worry about split ends. Otherwise, the fibers are
indistinguishable from organic hair. They need to be washed,
regular shampoo will do, and sprays and gels will control the
strands allowing them to be styled in any manner. I think what I
have here is the ultimate in hair replacement."
Joe worked at his gag. "What are they doing to me now?"
"The newly formed fiber, before it solidifies, is connected to
a needle and inserted into the skull where, once it sets, it is
anchored permanently and can't be pulled out."
The machine hummed on.
After awhile it stopped. The Doctor moved another unit to the
front of Joe's face.
"To replace hair not on the scalp, this device allows the
fibers to be secured in the skin, much like a hair root. Also, like
natural hair, these strands can be pulled out, but I understand
that it's quite painful."
The Doctor aimed the light at Joe's forehead twice then turned
it on. Joe felt a sensation of pressure on his forehead over each
eye and then it was done.
"As you can see the length, color, and thickness are totally
variable."
The machine stopped. The Doctor examined Joe's face. Joe saw
the Doctor peek down at his cleavage, and felt a twinge of shame.
There was more than a professional interest in the Doctor's eyes.
Was it desire?
The Doctor grabbed Joe's right eyelid and pulled it out. Using
tweezers to grasp it, he moved the unit over to engage and clamp
down on it.
"The machine even allows for individual detail work."
The machine buzzed slowly and Joe felt a tugging on his
eyelid. The process was repeated on his bottom lid and then the
left eye.
The small machine was pulled away.
Joe blinked. His eyelids were heavy and he felt lashes brush
on his cheek.
"What have they done to my eyes?" he thought.
The Doctor spoke. "Now that the main unit is finished we can
open the accumulator."
There was a click and Joe felt a weight on his head. He
couldn't see it, but he experienced the odd sensation of mass
pulling on his scalp.
The Doctor was congratulated by his fellows and they all
departed, leaving Joe and Monica alone. Monica came up and released
his bonds.
"See I told you you'd have hair soon enough. Now you have to
worry about taking care of it."
Joe's gag was removed and the restraints released. Standing
up, he felt the unfamiliar sensation of hair brushing against his
neck and shoulder blades. Joe reached up and touched an enormous
mass of hair. He pulled a handful forward over his shoulder. It was
the color of gold.
He was a blonde.
PERMANENTLY!
Joe ran his long red fingernails through his long blonde hair.
The transvestite in him loved it. He pulled more over. Hair covered
the tops of his breasts and Joe could feel his new tresses hanging
down his back, almost to his waist.
Incredulous, Joe followed Monica back to his room. She left
him sitting on the chaise, still gazing at handfuls of his
magnificent blonde hair. After awhile, Joe recovered from this blow
only to get another; a full-length mirror had been positioned on
the wall on the other side of the room. Joe just looked at it,
afraid to go over and see his reflection. Finally his curiosity
overcame his misgivings and the trembling man shut his eyes and
walked over in front of the mirror.
Opening his eyes, Joe saw the most desirable woman he had ever
laid eyes on. Completely astounded, he stared at her. The girl in
the mirror appeared to be about twenty or twenty-one. Long blonde
hair framed a oval face. Her eyebrows were narrow semi-circles,
arching highly above provocative green eyes. Long lashes, thick
with mascara, curved out from lids lined heavily in black. The blue
shadow on the eyelids darkened to purple in the eye crease, then
softened, as it rose, to become silver under the eyebrows.
The pert nose and high cheekbones added refinement to her
face. Her skin was soft and ivory colored, except for rosy red
cheeks. Opulent red lips smiled sweetly at him and begged to be
kissed. In back of them, perfect white teeth sparkled. "That's me."
Joe cried.
The only familiar reference was his green eyes, but even they
were different; more open and wider as if he viewed the world in
perpetual wonder. And those lips!
"But I'm not smiling," thought Joe.
The cosmetic surgery which had made his lips full and
protruding had somehow formed his mouth into a permanent smile. Joe
noticed that the bright red lip color matched his nails, and that
his make-up was a trifle on the heavy side. "Wait a minute," he
thought. "I don't have any make-up on."
"That's tattooed on my skin!"
Joe's panic was short lived as he stood there and stared at
himself. He loved this babe whose image the mirror reflected and he
lusted for her. Meanwhile the transvestite in his mind relished how
sensual he looked. Joe became more and more aroused the longer he
studied his reflection in the mirror. He had been reconstructed to
look like a girl from one of his sexual fantasies. He couldn't
believe it.
Joe's tiny feet were perched on black patent high heels.
Shapely legs, encased in sheer black nylons, disappeared into the
tight skirt which defined the contours of his broad hips which were
further emphasized by the wide belt wrapped around his
infinitesimal waist.
Joe's massive breasts strained against his silken blouse
revealing an expanse of cleavage guaranteed to arouse the interest
of any man who hadn't been dead for over an hour. A beautiful face,
long blonde hair, slim arms, and graceful hands with their long red
fingernails completed a vision of loveliness; Joe was every inch a
stunning and desirable young woman.
Except for those inches outlined under his tight skirt!
Joe gazed at his reflection. His arousal grew until finally,
without a touch, he ejaculated into his tight taffeta skirt.
Released from his enchantment, Joe removed his belt then tried
to get his tight skirt off. It was tough going; getting the zipper
down over his rounded ass, what with the long nails and all.
Eventually he got it down, peeled the skirt off, stepped out of it,
and threw it in the hamper.
Joe saw the advantage now of the bikini he wore. Since the
head of his cock was not covered, he had come into the skirt, and
his panties were unsoiled. There was some gooey residue on his
abdomen however, and Joe went to the bathroom to get a tissue and
wipe it off.
Once there though, Joe could only stare at the cum on his
belly. He found himself filled with an overpowering need to taste
it. Joe placed the tip of his right index finger in the sticky goo,
then brought it to his red lips. His tongue snaked out and licked
it. "Hmm." It tasted salty and somehow familiar.
Joe rubbed the fingers of his other hand in the sticky mess
and brought it to his mouth. Hungrily he lapped his cum of off his
fingers loving every drop of it.
"What's going on?" Joe wondered. Why did he find eating his
cum so satisfying?
Joe decided that his body craved salt because of the lack of
it in his diet. His chagrin alleviated by this bogus
rationalization, Joe repeated his actions, alternating hands and
sucking on each finger until it was clean. Somehow still compelled
by his mysterious hunger, Joe returned to his bedroom.
Joe walked to the hamper. He didn't want to do this but was
powerless to resist. Slowly, he reached into the hamper and
withdrew his soiled skirt. Turning it inside out, he raised it to
his lips, and hesitantly licked at the damp lining. Joe could taste
his cum. He drew the material into his mouth and sucked at it
vigorously. "What's happening to me," he wondered. He didn't really
want to be doing this but something inside his mind forced him on.
"Is all this dressing and looking like a woman making me act
like one?" Joe asked himself.
Joe sat on the chaise lounge feeling silly. He'd tried to
remove his blouse but couldn't reach the buttons in back, so he
remained as he was; half dressed.
Monica entered. She knew what had transpired, having watched
the interlude from Dr. van Damme's office. "Let's get you undressed
Joe."
"What should I wear to dinner?"
Monica wanted to say: "You've just had your dinner. Do you
really want some more," but instead said "it's too late for dinner,
but I'll get you a snack when your ready for bed."
Joe removed his jewelry. Monica unbuttoned the blouse and Joe
shucked it off and put it in the hamper. Joe removed his shoes and
placed them in the closet, removed his bikini, undid the garters,
unhooked the garter belt and took it off. Joe removed his bra and
stockings and went to the hamper with his lingerie.
"Wait a minute Joe. You have to wash your undies out by hand
every night."
Handing him a short nightie, Monica said, "Clean them like you
did your panties and hose this morning."
Joe put on the nightie to cover his breasts.
When he was done and had hung his underwear up to dry, he
returned to the bedroom where Monica was waiting for him. Holding
out a sandwich and glass of milk she said, "here eat this then get
in bed."
After eating, and when Monica had left, Joe lay in bed,
enjoying the luxuriousness of the satin sheets. He decided he liked
the way his head nestled in the bulk of his blonde hair.
Joe didn't get dressed the next day. Monica brought him his
breakfast, then Betsy arrived. Joe spent the day with her learning
to care for his new hair. Betsy showed him how to wash, dry, and
style it, trying to make Joe feel good about what had been done to
his appearance. "Just think Joe, you'll never have to get a
haircut." Or, "Think of the time you'll save not having to spend
hours putting on or removing cosmetics."
"But why would I ever want to wear make-up in the first
place?" thought Joe.
By the end of the day Joe could arrange his hair in any number
of fashions; from a tight bun to adorable little ringlets.
Joe woke up groggy the next morning. He stumbled into the
bathroom and splashed water on his face. There was now a mirror
over the sink. It shocked him to see his face, first thing in the
morning, all made up as if he had just left a beauty salon.
"I guess I'll have to live with it for awhile," he thought. "I
know tattoos can be removed or covered up. I'll get rid of this
face once I'm home."
Joe opened the closet and looked at the vast array of dresses
there wondering which one he might be dressed in today. He got
turned on thinking about the clothing. Going to the bathroom he sat
on the toilet and massaged his breasts until his cock was hard. Now
when he masturbated he used his right hand and beat off into his
left.
After he had come, he consumed the semen in his hand, savoring
every drop.
"Surprise Joe!" said Monica. "You get to go to the beach
today. You need some color."
Instead of a dress Monica put Joe in a swimsuit. It was a very
revealing one-piece made of spandex. The strapless suit was black,
except for the elasticized top which was white with a big bow over
his bust. Naturally, everything was revealed, including his male
organs.
Joe was given a white cotton cover-up, some sandals, and a
gold chain was locked around his neck. "Sorry about the sandals
Joe, but they're all I can find for the beach. Don't try to remove
that chain, it's a locating device in case you get lost. Don't even
think about trying to run away. Dr. van Damme owns the whole
island, there's nothing else close, and no way off it . Parts of
the island can be very dangerous, and you can't go very far or very
fast with your feet."
Joe was turned over to Betsy who took him to a lovely secluded
beach, put lotion and sunscreen on him, and saw to it that he
tanned properly.
After several days of this, Joe looked like a bronze goddess.
Joe considered his dressing as a woman. It didn't seem to
bother him at all any more. In fact, as he would admit only to
himself, he got a kick out of it. While his physical development
had been, for the most part, gradual allowing him to acclimate
himself to the changes in his body, he had been abruptly thrown
into the world of women's fashion which was totally alien to him.
Some of it took some getting used to, especially bras and
hosiery. If he wasn't at the beach or sleeping, Joe was wearing a
bra and either stockings or panty-hose. Joe hadn't as yet been able
to accept as normal, the wearing of stockings. He was mesmerized by
the appearance of his shapely legs in shimmering nylon. Not only
that, but whenever he wore hose, which was most of the time, the
feeling of his hairless legs in their delightful embrace drove him
to distraction. Added to which, were the exquisite sensations he
received as the delicate fabrics of his apparel massaged his legs
through his ultra-sheer hosiery.
Joe had always thought that a bra was a bra, not knowing of
the vast assortment available to women for different purposes;
bandeaus, underwires, long-lines, front-hook, back-hook, natural
cup, strapless, and more. Joe was learning quickly though; he wore
them all. The one bra that Joe just couldn't get comfortable in was
the demi-bra, this infernal design just held his jugs out but
didn't cover the nipples at all. Five minutes in a demi-bra under
a slip, blouse, or dress and Joe's nipples would be rock hard and
his cock ready to pop.
Joe had gone through a hard enough time getting accustomed to
having tits, but now he was kept constantly aware of their presence
on his chest by the firm pressure of the well-stuffed brassieres he
wore. It had become unnerving to go without one, as he did now.
One of Joe's questions had been answered for him as,
piece by piece, he was dressed through the contents of his new
wardrobe. Yes, everything they gave him to wear fit just like his
first outfits did. Every single bit of clothing was tight, sheer,
revealing, and sensuous; designed to put on display the feminine
qualities which Joe now possessed in abundance.
There wasn't anything that could even be considered normal day
wear. Not only that, but lately Monica and Betsy had been treating
him like a mannequin, entertaining themselves by dressing him in
whatever fashions caught their fancy.
Take this morning for instance; Joe was very self-conscious,
knowing he was dressed inappropriately for breakfast, let alone
cafeteria dining, but this was how Monica had bedecked him this
morning. He had been poured into a strapless, long, black velvet,
evening gown. Having been given no bra, his enormous breasts
jiggled with every step, seeming as if they would leap out of the
gown's embrace at any moment. Black satin pumps, along with shapely
legs and thighs clad in filmy black panty-hose, revealed
themselves, snaking out through excessively high slits in his
skirt. Joe's hair had been brushed out straight and styled so that
it fanned out over his back, covering his shoulders like a yellow
cape. Long elaborate rhinestone earrings dangled from his ears
matching the sparkling necklace and bracelets that he wore. As Joe
ate his low-fat cottage cheese, he thought, "I should be in a
whisky advertisement."
Joe found this funny for some reason. Giggling, he spilled
some cottage cheese onto the bare top of his breast. He tried to
wipe it up discreetly, but every male eye in the room was glued to
him, Dr. van Damme's instructions notwithstanding.
CHAPTER 17
Monica entered Joe's room with her gear and looked at the
sleeping man. Lifting the satin coverlet from his body, she paused
to watch the rise and fall of his breasts under his satin and lace
negligee as he breathed. The drug in his dinner had worked well.
Continuing with her task, Monica pulled the hem of his negligee up
over his hips. The only natural hair left on his body was a
triangle of silky pubic hair. Monica lathered it up and began
shaving it off.
Joe woke up muddled the next morning and tried to get up.
"Joe, get back in bed," said Monica. "And lie on your
stomach."
Joe did as directed, but wasn't very comfortable; his breasts
didn't make very good pillows. Monica flipped Joe's negligee up to
reveal the soft globes of his ass cheeks. Placing her hand in the
small of his back to hold him still, she injected the contents of
a needle into one. Joe felt a sting as the needle slipped into his
right buttock. "What's that for?" he asked Monica.
"Don't worry about it. Just turn over and lie back."
Monica left the room. When she returned, with two attendants
pushing a gurney, Joe was out like a light. She watched the
gorgeous man as the negligee was striped from his lush body, which
was then transferred to the gurney. Joe was wheeled out of his
room, and into a new life.
CHAPTER 18
Joe was dreaming. He was chasing a pretty blonde girl. She was
a knockout and he wanted her. He wanted her so badly that his balls
itched, and his cock was so hard it hurt. Then it dawned on him;
the girl he was chasing was himself, as he looked now.
Joe woke up. He was very dizzy, but able to comprehend that he
was in his room. He didn't notice the lack of sensation below his
waist. Dr. van Damme, Monica, and another doctor were at his
bedside. Joe giggled. "Hi guys. What's going on."
The doctor shot a needle into the IV drip in Joe's arm. Joe
started to fade. "Hey Monica, you're looking great. Say my balls
ache, would you rub them for me?" Then he was gone.
Monica looked at the doctor curiously. "How could he?"
The Doctor answered her. "The same way some amputees get
cramps in the calves of legs that aren't there anymore."
CHAPTER 19
Joe gradually returned to consciousness. Trying to check
himself out, he discovered his restraints. "What has that crazy
bitch done to me now?" he thought.
What was there left to do to him? "No. Monica said the Doctor
wouldn't do that," he recalled.
Dr. van Damme, the surgeon, and Monica entered his room,
alerted to his awakening by the monitors. "Don't try to move Joe,"
said Dr. van Damme. "You've been given a spinal block and can't
feel below the waist. You might hurt something by moving around
with no sensation."
"So what bunch of suffering human beings am I helping today?"
Joe asked her cynically.
"I'm happy to tell you Joe, that you represent new hope for
thousands of transsexuals."
"WHAT?"
"Well, since you asked. Many men aren't men at all, but rather
a woman's psyche in a man's body. Their only possibility of
happiness is sex reassignment surgery; what you'd call it a sex
change. The problem is that the state of the art of surgery today
results in more mutilation than change. The post-operative
transsexual is usually left with a pathetic imitation of a vagina.
I'm happy to tell you that the surgical procedure we have
developed, and tested on you, was totally successful in the
construction of fully functional female sex organs."
Joe was shrieking and in shock.
After several minutes he looked up, still wailing. "But
Monica, you said ... "
"I told you that you could keep your precious little balls you
foolish boy, and I didn't lie to you."
Monica held up a mirror so Joe could see his face. Brushing
his hair back from his ears she pointed at two diminutive gold
globes, one of which adorned each earlobe.
"I had them freeze-dried, gold plated, and permanently
attached. You'll keep them forever!"
Joe sobbed in his pillow.
Later on, having cried himself out, the giddy man addressed
Dr. van Damme. "So you did it. You've changed me into a woman."
"Not really Joe. Let's examine your situation. You have the
beauty, the figure, and now even the secondary sex characteristics
of a woman. You may, over time, even acquire the needs and desires
of a woman, but you are and shall always be a man since you lack
what truly makes a woman female; a womb and ovaries. However, you
also lack what makes a man male; a penis and testicles. Now a woman
is the equal of a man, but since you are something less than a man,
it follows that you must be less than a woman. Don't you ever
forget that you are an imitation, a plaything created in
retribution for the way you lived your life. You're gorgeous,
you're sexy, but basically Joe, you're only a eunuch." On that note
she left with the surgeon.
In the hall outside, the surgeon asked her. "Why were you so
severe with him? He's been through a lot. His vagina cannot be
distinguished from that of a genetic female and I did a superb job
on the plumbing. Why any gynecologist who examined him would
testify in court that he is a woman who has suffered from cancer
and been given a hysterectomy ."
Dr. van Damme answered him. "Doctor there's more going on here
than meets the eye. Part of what we are doing to Joe is punishing
him. Dave Weinstein's earlier experiments have shown us that a man
who is feminized unwillingly can eventually find refuge in his
femininity. Dave tells me that this approach we're using on Joe
will establish in him a streak of rebellion which will prevent that
from occurring. He will cling to the fact that he is a man, even
though he could never convince anyone of that fact."
They walked on.
Later, in his bed, Joe thought to himself. "They may give me
a woman's body, but I'm still Joe Watson. My body may betray me,
but my mind won't. I will not let it. I'm Joe Watson and I'm a man,
and no matter what they do to me, I'll always remember that in my
brain, where it counts. They'll never conquer my spirit."
CHAPTER 20
Joe lay in his bed. He had lost count of the days and weeks as
he watched the world go by through the fog of drugs and, after the
spinal block had worn off, pain.
With the passage of time, his body recuperated and this
morning the doctor had removed the last bandages shielding his
operation, pronounced him fully healed, and extracted the catheter.
It felt very peculiar to Joe, to have his insides probed and
scrutinized like that.
Joe refused to look at himself, and tried to ignore his
metamorphosis. Then the inevitable happened; he had to go to the
bathroom. He tried to ignore his bladder, but couldn't for long.
Reluctantly, he got out of bed, thankful for the long satin
nightgown, which covered him from neck to ankles.
In the bathroom, Joe frowned at the toilet. "I guess I'd
better get used to this."
Raising the back of his gown, Joe lowered his abundant ass
onto the seat. "At least those muscles haven't changed," Joe
thought as he urinated. Joe enjoyed the relief pissing brought and
when he was done stood up. letting his gown fall only to feel
wetness on his thighs as urine ran down them.
"Cripes!"
Joe gathered up his gown and sat down again. He'd forgotten
that girls had to wipe. Even though he wasn't a girl, he still
pissed like one and had to copy their hygienic techniques. He
bunched up some toilet paper and, looking away, stuck his hand down
and dabbed. When he was satisfied that he was dry, he got up and
returned to bed.
Outside his room, Dave Weinstein spoke to Monica.
"I am certain that Joe is depressed, resentful, and hostile
over the removal of his genitals. I think we should give him some
valium, then why don't you get him dressed as we discussed and see
if we can get his transvestite programming to take control of his
emotions.
Monica entered the room.
"Up and at 'em Joe."
Joe just glared at her.
"Joseph Watson! You get out of that bed right now and take
this medicine, before I call Dr. Van Damme and have you punished."
Joe complied, and after he had swallowed the Valium, Monica
sat him down and went to work on his hair to kill time until the
medication calmed him. Monica rolled Joe's hair up in curlers and
put lotion on it to keep the curls in. When she was done, Monica
pulled Joe's gown off. He instinctively brought his hands up over
his breasts. Monica snickered at this. "Oh come on Joe. There's no
secrets between friends, right? Here hold these."
Joe held up what looked like a pair of stockings, but they
were different. Holding them up, he recognized them as fishnet
hose. He hadn't seen them on a woman in years, except in some of
his men's magazines. Part of his mind considered what he would look
like in them. Not counting on Joe's cooperation, Monica put a
garter belt around his waist and hooked it in back. After sitting
him down, she rapidly rolled the hose up each leg. Standing Joe up,
Monica hooked up the hose and tightened the suspenders. She noticed
that he wouldn't look down. Sitting him down again, Monica slipped
shoes on his feet; red patent leather open-toed sandals with ankle
straps and five inch heels. She noticed how his red toenails peeked
out through the mesh of his stockings. "Sexy," she thought as she
buckled the straps tight.
Monica brought out a pair of French-cut black satin and lace
panties. She put them on over Joe's shoes then, standing him up,
pulled them slowly up his legs. Joe perceived a new sensation as
Monica pulled the panties up over his hips, a slight pressure on
his genital area that he 'd never experienced before.
All of a sudden Joe wanted to see what he looked like. He
walked over to the mirror. "Boy don't my legs look great?" Joe
asked himself.
Joe still resented the loss of his cock and balls, but the
drug had taken effect and besides, part of him liked the fact that
his panties fit properly now; with no protrusion or bulges from his
cock or balls. Joe could see his pubic hair, which had regrown,
through the lace, which ended at a satin panel which was flush
against his crotch. Beneath the taut material Joe could see the
outline of his new vulva. The transvestite in him was elated. Isn't
this the ultimate in cross-dressing? Joe felt his nipples tingle.
"Where's my bra?" he asked Monica.
"We're going to try something different today. Just wait."
Monica had Joe step into a skirt and she worked it up over his
hips. It was a black kidskin miniskirt and was it ever tight. Not
knowing that the clothes were designed to fit like that, Joe
thought. "I've got to lose some weight."
Joe looked at his profile. No outline of his cock showed, just
the feminine swell of his pelvis under the skirt. Monica held up a
strip of red leather and wrapped it around Joe's chest. "What's
that?" he asked.
"It's a bustier. Don't worry it will support you."
Monica pulled it together and fastened it. Joe's breasts were
tightly confined in its firm grip and he could tell that it would
support them, but looking down he discovered that it sure as hell
didn't cover them. It just squashed his breasts together and
offered them up for public inspection.
Monica wrapped a white patent leather belt around his waist
and gave him a matching purse. Taking an atomizer, she sprayed Joe
with perfume; behind his knees, between his breasts, on his neck
and shoulders. Joe was enveloped in an intoxicating fragrance.
Monica put the bottle in his bag, then removed the curlers from his
hair. Lifting Joe's golden curls, she placed a fine gold chain
around his neck. Attached to it was a locket which settled in his
cleavage. Joe picked it out. "I wonder what this is?" he thought.
Joe found a tiny latch and managed to open it. Inside was a
picture of himself; before any of the changes. Joe just stared at
it, surprised that he wasn't annoyed at this final humiliation. The
drug had kicked in Joe was not in control of his emotions. Rather
than anger or hate, some other passion built."I wasn't a bad
looking hunk," thought Joe as Monica brushed out his hair.
Joe didn't know it but he was getting turned on by his own
picture. His nipples stiffened and then he felt a well-known
commotion in his crotch. He was getting a hard on."Is it possible?"
Joe wondered. "Maybe my cock isn't gone, just hidden."
Joe resolved to check it out at the first opportunity, as he
shut the locket and returned it to the valley between his boobs.
Monica put some dangling gold earrings in his multiple-pierced ears
and gave him a gold link bracelet and a huge aquamarine ring.
Slipping the ring on his right ring-finger, Monica told him,
"Remember this Joe, aquamarine is your new birth-stone."
"What do you mean?"
"Well you're a new man, so to speak, so we'll use the day you
were made to celebrate your birthday from now on."
Joe followed Monica, finding it was much easier to walk
without his balls being pinched all the time. He liked the feel of
leather on his skin, the way his hair bounced when he walked and
brushed against his shoulders and back, and especially he liked the
perfume he wore. Joe knew he must look pretty sexy and he felt
sexy, but it never occurred to him, that he looked for all the
world, like a very beautiful, very high-priced call girl. As he
sashayed down the hall; breasts bouncing and hips and ass swaying
with every mincing step he took.
CHAPTER 21
Joe ate breakfast with Monica and, having nothing to do,
followed her around all morning. As time wore on, Joe became more
accustomed to the clothes he wore, and at ease with his new
appearance. He was unaware that every man who laid eyes on him
lusted after him.
When Joe had followed Monica into her office and taken a seat,
she realized what had been bothering her about him. Except when his
body and dress required that he move otherwise, Joe still sat and,
in some situations, moved like a man. Right now he sat with his
legs apart. Monica could see his garters at the tops of his
stockings and glancing up, she could make out his vagina in it's
satin embrace.
"He's got learn not to flash that pussy of his around so
conspicuously." She thought. "Oh well, I'll tell Dr. van Damme and
she can put Mrs. Maxwell on it."
Later, Monica took Joe to lunch where he was given a tuna
salad, despite his preference for roast beef. After they had eaten,
Monica told him. "I always take a little nap after lunch. Why don't
you try it?"
"Maybe I will. I still feel very worn out."
Monica and the attendants found him on the bed with a fashion
magazine open in his lap; the hypnotic in the iced tea had worked
to perfection. Joe was wheeled to the operating theater where his
belt, bustier, skirt, and panties were removed. After his inert
form was laid out on a table, his legs were spread apart, and his
feet placed in stirrups as if for a pelvic exam.
The plastic surgeon who had created Joe's vagina lectured to
the audience, while a television camera zoomed in for close-ups,
which in turn, were relayed to monitors throughout the room. "There
were two very significant improvements included in the many
innovations introduced with this subject's procedure. First, I was
able to preserve the penile nerves intact and bundle them together.
Secondly, we removed some of the mucous membrane from a section of
the subject's large intestine. This was cultured, a mutation was
induced, and it was then used as the lining for the vaginal wall."
"The results versus conventional sex reassignment surgery are
vastly superior; the penile nerves retain full tactile sensation
with the ability to provide pleasure when touched, just as the
penis would. There is no danger of the vagina closing up, so we can
do away with the need to keep a form inserted. The lining, when
irritated, secretes a fluid, sort of like a runny noses, not very
different from a female's natural lubricant. nose."
The doctor pointed out the highlights for the television
camera as he went on. "Here we have the mons veneris. Here the
labia majora or outer vaginal lips, constructed from the scrotum
and inside the labia minora. This is the clitoris, formed from the
foreskin where the penile nerves were. It functions not very
differently from the way the subject's penis did; when aroused, it
engorges with blood, although the increase in size is minimal, and
when stimulated can produce the muscular contractions known as
orgasm. The labia minora, or inner vaginal lips, which were created
from the leftover penile tissue and mucous membrane."
The crowd murmured it's approval. All of the assembled doctors
admitted it was near impossible to tell Joe's man-made vagina from
the real thing.
Dave Weinstein took the stage as various devices were attached
to Joe's body; rubber molds with wires running out were put over
his breasts, the projection box was lowered over his head, a shape
resembling a large cock with a metal ring around it was carefully
inserted into his vagina, then a thin probe was forced into his
anus.
Dave spoke. "You will recall Dr. Locke said that the subject's
vagina will secrete a fluid when irritated. What I hope to
accomplish is to trick the subject's mind into confusing sexual
arousal with vaginal irritation, much as Dr. Pavlov tricked his
dogs."
Joe was brought up to a trance state. The device in his vagina
vibrated, irritating the lining. When the fluid was secreted it
completed an electrical circuit in the device and a green light lit
on the control console. "Excellent," said Dave. "Now we hot-wire
our little beauty's neural network for pleasure."
The cups over Joe's breasts were shaking and the plug in his
vagina vibrated, along with the probe up his ass. Inside the box,
all the images programmed into Joe's pretty head to be sexually
stimulating were flashed before him. The pleasure center in his
mind was excited by induction to the metal wires still in his
skull.
This went on for some time, and at the end, tiny electrical
shocks were pulsed through Joe's breasts, vagina, and ass. Then the
plug was removed from Joe's vagina and dried completely.
After a short wait, Dave Weinstein inserted a tiny metal probe
into Joe's vagina and reset the light to red. "And now the moment
of truth."
The psychologist flicked a switch. Inside the box, images of
virile young men, naked with large erect cocks, were projected into
Joe's subconscious. Dave Weinstein speculated silently. "Would the
brain recall it's programming and find the pictures erotic? Would
the conditioning work?"
The crowd waited expectantly.
Dave started to worry.
Then the green light flashed on.
It worked. Joe was lubricating himself in response to sexual
stimulation. The audience roared it's approval. Dave Weinstein
looked down at Joe. The transfigured man was unconsciously
undulating his pelvis, the way a highly aroused woman would do.
CHAPTER 22
Joe was awakened by Monica shaking him. "Come on sleepy head.
Wake up. It's dinner time, you slept all afternoon."
Joe remembered distinctly the graphic visions he had dreamed.
He didn't want to talk, or even think, about them. Noticing that
his mini-skirt had risen up over his thighs, Joe tugged it down as
he got up on his high-heeled feet. Joe discovered that he was
hungry, but was surprised to find himself still tired. "Well they
say too much sleep is the same as not enough," he recalled, and
thought no more about it.
The two lovelies went to dinner, after Joe paused to refresh
his perfume. He loved the scent. Monica laughed silently. "Boy, if
only he knew."
The boys in the lab had concocted the stuff and called it "Eau
d' Joe." It had been formulated with the sole objective of
attracting men. It contained all the scents that the masculine
psyche found sexy and alluring on a woman, and was liberally laced
with female pheromones, which not only served to inflame Joe's
remaining masculine passions, but also those of any male who might
be within range of the compelling fragrance.
After dinner, Monica took Joe to the island's theater, where
they watched a movie. Joe experienced weird emotions running
through his body. He wrote them off as being induced by the well-
made thriller. It never dawned on him, that those vivid sensations
coincided with the appearance of the movie's handsome star on the
screen.
On the way back, Monica picked up a bottle of wine. When they
got to Joe's room, she said. "Joe, go in and take a shower and get
ready for bed. I'll get a corkscrew and some glasses."
Joe showered, avoiding any contact with his remodeled gender.
His earlier interest had worn off, and he didn't want to deal with
it now. Joe dried and put on his most attractive negligee of
shimmering pink satin and lace. He loved both the way it felt, and
the way it displayed his magnificent body.
Monica returned. She had changed into a blue satin and lace
teddy covered by a matching short gown. She opened the wine and
poured to glasses handing one to Joe.
"So tell me Joe. How did you like the first day with your new
body?"
The abruptness of Monica's question caught Joe off-guard.
Joe and Monica weren't the only ones enjoying a sip of the
grape. In her office, Dr. van Damme and Dave Weinstein savored a
rare tipple as they watched the unfolding scene.
"Here's where Monica earns her pay," said Dave.
After a minute, Joe started crying. "Oh Monica. I don't know.
Part of me likes it; looking so sexy and wearing such fantastic
clothes. But inside I'm still a man. It hurts so much; every minute
that I'm in this body. It's so degrading to know that I'll never
escape from this masquerade. What can I do." By this time he was
was weeping.
"Don't cry Joe." Monica lifted up his chin and gently kissed
him on the lips."When you can't change something, accept it, and
try and make the most of it."
Monica hugged Joe until his tears subsided, then lifted the
sniffling man up and carried him to the bed. Joe hadn't known the
big girl's strength. Monica got into bed with Joe and kissed him
passionately, while easing the straps of his negligee over his
shoulders, uncovering his well-developed breasts. Monica tenderly
fondled each in turn, feeling his nipples harden.
Monica gave Joe a long-lingering kiss, examining every corner
of his mouth with her tongue. She then turned her attention to his
breasts, licking and sucking first one then the other, until both
were stiff with desire. Joe didn't know what to make of this, but
he knew that he liked it. He felt very hot between his legs and the
sensation that he was getting a hard-on was back. Joe moaned with
pleasure when Monica placed her hands under his hips and trailed
her tongue down across his belly to find the lips of his vagina
moist and enlarged with his passion.
Monica flicked her tongue over Joe's vulva then teasingly
poked it back and forth between the lips. Joe spread his legs even
wider as Monica took her hands out from under him, using her
fingers to gently stretch his cunt wider. With her tongue, Monica
found Joe's clit, which had been fashioned from the sensitive
tissue of his cock and contained the penile nerves. Seeming to
recall it's previous function, it swelled, trying to become erect.
Monica took it in her mouth and sucked and nibbled on it with her
teeth.
Delirious with pleasure, Joe took his hands with their long
red nails and grabbed his breasts. Taking a nipple between each
thumb and fore-finger, he pinched them, sending even more waves of
pleasure through his body. He tried to grind his crotch against
Monica's face but she pulled away. Joe wished she'd continue eating
his pussy, but instead Monica kissed Joe on the mouth again. "Being
a girl can be enjoyable Joe."
When they broke for air, Monica whispered. "Joe dear. I have
a surprise for you. Rising on the bed she undid the belt of her
gown. Reaching down she unsnapped the crotch of her teddy and
pulled it up. Out popped an erect cock. Monica was a man!
Joe didn't know what to think of this, he was both frightened
and fascinated by it. "Monica. What? ... I don't know ... "
Pushing Joe back on the bed Monica said, "There, there Joe. I
promise I'll be gentle with you."
Joe wasn't aware of it, but his subliminal programming had
pre-disposed his masculine mind to accept the orientation of a
heterosexual female and Monica had been chosen to be the agent of
Joe's introduction to this lifestyle. Since his mind was still male
and he really lusted after the pretty blonde, her apparent
femininity would overcome any objections his masculine ego might
raise.
Giving up, Joe decided to go with the flow, and he laid back
and relaxed, as Monica resumed licking his hot pussy. After a short
interval, Joe was writhing in pleasure again. Positioning herself
between Joe's legs, Monica rubbed the head of her cock against
Joe's cunt.
Joe was too far gone to care what happened now. Monica
inserted her shaft slightly between the lips of Joe's pussy,
letting his new cunt get used to penetration for the first time.
When she felt the time was right, Monica rammed the entire length
of her large cock into Joe. At this Joe took notice; letting go of
his breasts and opening his eyes to look at Monica. It dawned on
him with a flash.
HE WAS BEING FUCKED.
LIKE A GIRL.
AND HE LOVED IT!
Monica began a slow piston-like movement. Joe pulled her close
to him, put his legs up over her hips, and crossed his ankles. Joe
was amazed at the sensations he felt as Monica's prick penetrated
deep inside him. He could feel every inch as it slid in and out of
his hot wet cunt. It was so intense, so exciting. He was panting
now, and making faint unintentional moaning sounds. Joe could feel
Monica's cock swell and his body was racked by spasms, accompanied
by louder moans as he experienced his first female orgasm,just as
the she-male commenced pumping her load of cum into him.
The die was cast. Joe now had a female element in his mind
that his will could not control. Never would he turn away from a
session with a stiff prick. Joe collapsed into a limp bundle and as
Monica withdrew her spent cock, he curled up; tired and worn out.
"Just like a man." Thought Monica. "After sex, all they want to do
is roll over and go to sleep. Well he'll learn a hard lesson
shortly."
Joe was startled out of his daze by the awareness that
Monica's cock was pressing against his ass hole. He clenched it
tight, but Monica pushed harder and the shaft, still lubricated
with his pussy juice, was finally forced past his sphincter and
driven into his lovely behind. Joe felt himself become aroused
again, as the she-male's balls slapped against his butt. It was
very unconventional, but for some reason he desired it.
Powerless as the stimulation overcame his reason, Joe put one
hand between his legs and played with his pussy. Finally, Joe
orgasmed again, then Monica did and withdrew her cock from his ass.
Dr. van Damme raised her glass in a toast. "To the new Joseph
Watson. I gave him the body of an exaggeratedly voluptuous woman,
while you provided the appetites and impulses of a horny slut."
They sipped their champagne.
"Not only that," said Dave. "But Joe cannot fathom what's
going on with his body, he cannot exert any conscious control over
it's conditioned behavior. Joe definitely won't want to be involved
all the proceedings that he will be, but as far as his body is
concerned, his conscious mind is a passive spectator, no matter how
degrading a performance it puts on. Joe is trapped in an endless
loop; his mind rebels while his body compels.
CHAPTER 23
Joe awakened the next morning to find himself naked, wrapped
up in satin sheets, and Monica gone. He drew a hot bath. Relaxing
in it, he decided that the time had come to investigate the extent
of the modifications between his legs. Joe probed the outside then
spread the lips open and slowly inserted a finger, being careful
because of it's long nail. It felt like a pussy to his experienced
hands.
Joe got up, reached over and grabbed a hand mirror. Perched on
the edge of the tub he spread his legs wide, holding the mirror in
his left hand so he could observe as he explored with his right.
Joe stretched his labia open and considered the revealed cavity. It
looked exactly like a cunt to him, but what was that sensation he'd
felt, like his cock getting hard.
Exploring the interior, Joe discovered the bump of flesh which
now contained his penile nerve endings. Staring at it, he touched
it and felt his body respond. The reality of his situation slowly
dawned on Joe; there would be no more hard-ons for him. He had an
honest to goodness clit inside him.
With finality, and only slight consternation, Joe accepted the
results of his self-conducted examination; he was unequivocally a
female down there where it counted. It now became imperative that
he preserve the remaining fragments of the real Joe Watson, even if
they existed only in his mind.
Not knowing what to do next, Joe dried himself, wrapped a robe
around his body, and sat on the chaise lounge leafing through
magazines. He was interrupted by the appearance of a grand-motherly
matron. "Good morning. You must be Joseph. I am Mrs. Maxwell and I
understand that we have our work cut out for us."
CHAPTER 24
Joe brushed out his hair and applied some hair spray to hold
the curls. He was glad his tutelage under Mrs. Maxwell had ended
yesterday.
A month of intensive training, in what Mrs. Maxwell called
"The Womanly Arts", under her constant supervision, had taken it's
toll. Joe's manners were charming, and his deportment was now
graceful and ladylike.
Once, when Joe asked Mrs. Maxwell why was he being coached in
the use of cosmetics when his were permanent and unalterable, she
just shushed him, saying he might someday be interested in becoming
a beautician or a cosmetics salesperson. This lifted Joe's spirits
as it signified that he might yet get free of this island.
Joe dressed himself. As far as he was concerned, this was the
best result of his sessions with Mrs. Maxwell; he'd been given some
ordinary clothes, ordinary for a girl that is, in addition to the
tight, revealing, and provocative outfits he'd been attired in
previously.
The transvestite in Joe still took pleasure in wearing the
extreme fashions, but he looked upon his new clothes as normal. It
was a testimony to Dave Weinstein's program, that Joe now dressed
in regular woman's clothing with total acceptance and without the
slightest hint of embarrassment.
Joe selected his lingerie for the day from the vast assortment
in his bureau. Stepping into some white nylon briefs, he pulled
them up; they were a perfect fit. Joe liked the feel, especially
the cotton lined crotch panel which softly covered his sensitive
vagina. Joe hooked up his bra and positioned his breasts in the
nylon cups, before pulling it up. It was an underwire, with lace on
the cups, wide stretch straps, was comfortable to wear, offered
plenty of support, and nothing showed through. Joe put on some nude
ultra-sheer pantyhose, then a full slip of white nylon with an
embroidered bodice edged with lace and a lace trimmed hemline. Joe
was very grateful that he was no longer being forced to dress like
a slut.
Going to his closet Joe picked out a blue linen short-sleeved
coat-dress. slipping it on like a jacket and buttoning the double-
breasted front. It was very comfortable to wear and downplayed his
outrageous curves. Joe then slipped on a pair of low-heeled, well
two inches seemed low to him now, navy pumps and was dressed.
Joe sprayed himself with his perfume and picked out some
accessories as Mrs. Maxwell had taught him to coordinate; a ring,
a watch, the gold locket with his picture in it as a man, a leather
handbag to match his pumps, no earrings other than the permanent
gold balls, and as a finishing touch, he folded and stuffed a red
silk handkerchief into the breast pocket of his dress. Thus
attired, and feeling no more self-conscious than he would have in
a suit and tie over a year ago, Joe went to breakfast and his
subsequent appointment with Dr. van Damme.
Joe entered Dr. van Damme's office.
"Won't you sit down Mr. Watson?" said Dr. van Damme.
Joe sat in indicated chair, smoothing his dress under him, as
he'd been trained.
Dr. van Damme looked at the changed man in front of her,
sitting primly with his nylon covered knees together and his hands
folded over his purse in his lap. There was absolutely no evidence
of the old Joe Watson in the sweet young thing before her. "It
appears Mr. Watson that I have executed the terms of my contract
with your wife. The only unanswered question is what do I do with
you now?"
Joe remained silent.
It was crucial to the plan, that Dr. van Damme get Joe to
approve of his future circumstances, he would then cooperate
voluntarily, at least at first, afterwards was of no consequence.
"Let's review your situation. We can return you to the United
States, but what will you do? You can't return to being Joseph
Watson, you don't look like him, you don't talk like him, your
fingerprints are different, and you will even find that you can't
remember crucial information like your social security number."
Joe tried to recall his social security number, he knew he had
one but it seemed to be just out of reach. Joe got scared. What
else had they removed from his memory?
"Do you have any skills to support yourself?"
Joe shook his head no.
"Well then, I know, that with a body like yours, there's one
way you can earn a living."
Joe was almost crying now. He knew that it was unavoidable
that this subject would come up. Regardless of what they'd done to
his body, he couldn't, he wouldn't, make love to a man. He was no
faggot. Joe's subconscious had managed to obscure his little
episode with Monica, that was somehow something else, and he had no
inkling of the cravings implanted in his mind, which had yet to
reveal themselves.
Dr. van Damme spoke. "The only thing that bothers me is the
fact that your wife's contract didn't reimburse us for your
clothing and jewelry."
Joe saw a glimmer of hope. Perhaps he could avoid the street
after all. "Uh, Doctor. Maybe I could stay here and work for you,
at least until you've recovered your money?"
"I don't think so Mr. Watson. What can you do?"
Joe was crying like a little girl now. "I could learn. I
promise I'd work very hard. Please?"
"I bet you will," thought Dr. van Damme.
"I just don't know Mr. Watson. Our employment policy here is
a bit unorthodox, as I'm sure you might have guessed." After a
short pause she continued. "Well, against my better judgement, see
Clarice, my secretary,and she'll draw up the necessary paperwork.
Joe read through the contract. He wasn't sure he liked it but
what choice did he have? It was a lifetime contract, cancelable at
will on the Institute's part but he'd have to buy his way out of it
for fifty-thousand dollars. In it he agreed to perform any and all
tasks as might be assigned, accept such punishments as might be
specified for infractions of Institute regulations, including such
offenses as disrespect, and the contract was transferable on the
part of the Institute. In return, he was guaranteed food, shelter,
uniforms, medical care, and a cash stipend, the amount to be
determined by a profit sharing plan, for the rest of his life, and
when he was no longer able to work, the Institute would care for
him until he died. Joe signed it, breathing a sigh of relief at
avoiding the likelihood of returning home with no prospects except
as a prostitute, or mistress to a wealthy man, knowing from his own
experience what those vocations entailed.
That night, in bed, Joe relaxed, watching soap operas on
television. He'd become quite a fan of them by now and couldn't
understand why he hadn't discovered them before now. Joe watched as
a glamorous actress deep kissed the leading man. "Man she's built,"
he thought.
Joe felt his nipples harden, unaware that his subconscious was
being turned on by the actor in the scene. Remembering the pleasure
he used to get from masturbating, Joe brought his hands up and
started fondling his breasts through the thin satin nightgown. It
was as stimulating as ever before, maybe even more so. Joe felt the
sensation of heat between his legs. Remembering how it felt when
Monica sucked his teats, Joe dropped the top of his nightie off of
his shoulders and grabbed his right breast. He pulled it up and
leaned his head over; yes, he could reach it.
With growing anticipation, Joe stuck his tongue out and
touched his nipple. It felt wonderful. He lifted the breast further
and sucked it into his mouth. After awhile he swapped breasts and
sucked on the other one, in ecstasy as he rolled the nipple between
his teeth. Joe's crotch felt like it was on fire now, and he had
that sensation of a hard on again. Holding his left breast to his
mouth with his left hand, Joe snuck his right hand under the
elastic waistband of his panties and inserted three fingers into
his pussy, surprised to find it wet.
Locating the protuberance that served him as a clit, he found
it pulsing with desire and stroked it with his middle finger,
sucking his teat, until he climaxed. "Wow. Was that intense."
Thought Joe, rearranging his nightgown.
CHAPTER 25
"Wake up sweetie it's time to get to work."
"What the ... " said Joe half-asleep.
"I was told that you're the new trainee Joe Watson. Is that
right?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Well come on, we don't have all day."
Remembering what he'd got himself into the day before, Joe
struggled out of bed and went to wash up. He came out to find a
pile of clothing on the bed.
"Don't just look at it, put your uniform on."
Given a pair of plain white cotton panties, Joe put them on.
He picked up a bra unlike any he'd encountered before; it seemed to
be made of a heavy latex material and the thick nylon cups seemed
to small for his cumbersome breasts.
"What do I do with this?" Joe asked.
"Put it on silly. Oh, ... I forgot your new to this. It's what
we girls call a minimizer. It reduces the size of your boobs so you
can fit in your uniform without looking like a tramp."
With some effort Joe got it in place. It was really tight and
compressed his breasts, but they did appear smaller. The next
garment stunned Joe; a latex girdle.
"Come on! Get in it. The clock is ticking."
Joe finally got it up over his hips. He didn't see how he
could wear it for another ten minutes it was so tight.
"Are you sure this is the right size?"
"Yes, of course it is. It has to be tight, we don't want you
parading your teats and ass around distracting all the men."
Joe discovered the girl's name was Donna, and under her
direction he put on a pair of white support stockings, attaching
them to the garters of his girdle, then a plain white cotton slip,
a pair of low wedge-heeled white slip-ons, just barely high enough
to keep his feet from hurting, and gathered his hair up under a
hair net. Joe zipped up the back of the white nylon dress which
completed his uniform. He was allowed no perfume and no jewelry
except a watch and the ever present gold balls in his earlobes. A
little tag was pinned over his left breast, it read;
JOSEPH WATSON
Housekeeping staff
Thus attired, Joe went off to the first day of his new job.
CHAPTER 26
The last eight weeks had been a blur to Joe. he'd
worked at one position after another; as soon as he had mastered
one task, they switched him to another. He'd started at clearing
tables in the cafeteria. Next came washing dishes, the serving
line, food preparation, the laundry, and house cleaning including
washing and waxing floors. With so much at stake, Joe really
exerted himself. Just as Dave Weinstein had predicted. As a result,
most nights he was so tired he just fell into bed, other nights he
played with his pussy and boobs before going to sleep.
This job wasn't so bad; working in the executive dining room.
Joe's uniform was almost same, the dress was black polyester and he
wore a lacy little white apron over it, and he'd gotten used to the
minimizer bra and tight girdles he had to wear.
Joe saw Monica come in accompanied by Dave Weinstein. It had
been a long time since he'd seen her. Since that night she'd ...
Joe was still very much attracted to the pretty boy-girl. He walked
up to her.
"Hi Monica."
Monica had just recovered from her latest ordeal and wasn't
too quick on the uptake. She turned to look at the girl addressing
her; she looked familiar. Then she saw the name tag:
JOSEPH WATSON
Waitress
"Hi Joe. How do you like your new job?"
"Fine I guess. I haven't seen you for a long time. How are you
doing."
"Better than could be expected."
Monica felt sorry for what she'd helped to do to the poor
man. "Say Joe, let's get together tonight. Why don't you come over
to my room about eight?"
Joe felt a shiver go through his body. "Sure I'd love to."
"Say Joe. Wear something sexy. We'll go out."
Joe was very excited as he prepared for his date with Monica
and spraying on his perfume, after his bath, only increased the
effect. He slipped on a white lace bikini and went to the closet to
select his outfit for the evening.
"Hmmm. She said sexy ... this ought to do it."
Joe decided to do without hose and stepped into the dress he'd
picked out. It was really something; sleeveless with a sort of a
turtleneck. The turtleneck was made of a white stretchy bubble
textured material as were other parts of the dress. Joe buttoned
the neck closed.
"This is almost too much." Joe thought.
Indeed it was. From the turtleneck collar down was sheer lace
which descended in a V shape to his belly button. The white bubbly
spandex was lined with soft satin, which felt nice, but barely
covered Joe's nipples.
Joe's breasts were loose and, except for the nipples and outer
sides, were entirely visible through the lace insert. The dress
fell to Joe's upper thigh, hugging every curve of his voluptuous
body. The back was open beneath the collar and Joe could feel his
hair on his back. Hr turned around in front of the mirror. "Wow!"
The back opening also descended in a V, with no lace insert,
to down over the crack of his ass! Joe looked at the cleavage
formed by his derriere and debated wearing something else. There
was little room to maneuver in this dress; if he pulled it up to
cover his ass, his pussy would be exposed.
The longer Joe stared at his image though, the more he got
turned on, finally he said, "Fuck it." He slipped his tiny feet
into white pumps with extremely high heels, added a bracelet, and
was off.
Joe knocked on Monica's door.
"Come in."
Joe entered, surprised to see Monica still wearing the shirt-
dress she'd had on earlier.
"You're a bit early Joe."
Joe glanced at her clock. It was only seven o'clock. He'd been
so excited that he never even considered the time.
"Why don't you sit down and make yourself at home while I get
ready."
Joe sat down and picked up a magazine, trying not to stare at
Monica as she undressed. Monica shed her dress and slip, went into
the bathroom, and Joe heard the shower running.
Monica came out with a robe on.
"You know Joe, I have a dress just like yours in black. Maybe
we should dress in contrast."
"That would be nice," he said.
Monica got a pair of tiny black lace bikini panties out of her
dresser and as she removed her robe to begin dressing, Joe snuck a
peek at the she-male's body he desired so much.
"Monica!" He cried. "What happened?"
Between Monica's thighs was not the long cock that Joe's
subconscious secretly wanted, but a patch of blonde pubic hair
ending in cunt lips.
"Did that crazy Doctor get you too?"
Joe was almost crying now, probably more from disappointment
than in sympathy with Monica.
Monica came over and hugged Joe as he trembled.
"No, no Joe. It wasn't like that at all. You see I've been
pursuing this for as long as I can remember, that's why I was so
happy when your operation was a success. It meant my long wait was
over. Now you know where I've been."
"Don't cry for me Joe, I'm really happy this way."
The gorgeous transsexuals hugged each other. They were kindred
souls; manmade women, but one had sought it and the other fought
it.
Two tall blondes bounced down the path on their way to the
island's nightclub. Joe hadn't wanted to go, he'd had in mind a
quiet evening alone with Monica, but Monica wouldn't hear of it.
Inside the crowded club they took a table alone, and were
instantly besieged with offers of drinks and dances. Monica, having
had experience in these situations, got rid of their admirers.
"I'll get us some drinks Joe."
Monica went to the bar. "I'll have a gin and tonic and a
'special'."
At the table Monica and Joe sipped their drinks and talked
quietly. After the second round Monica could see that the special
was having it's desired effect. Joe was talking louder and slurring
his speech. Monica felt guilty about her part in Joe's 'treatment'
and had resolved to make it up to the poor man; she'd teach him to
enjoy his womanhood. "Let's dance Joe."
"Uh, I don't think so Monica."
"Oh come on" she said, pulling him to his high heeled feet.
With his reasoning ability seriously impaired and his
inhibitions waning, Joe followed her onto the small dance floor. A
fast disco number was blaring and they started to shake. Every male
eye in the house was on the two babes mixing it up alone on the
dance floor, their tits and asses seeming to be everywhere.
The music stopped, and Joe stood there with Monica, his
exertions having served only to carry more alcohol through his
system. A slow number started.
"May I have this dance madame." Asked Joe.
Acting silly. He took Monica and started to lead her in a slow
dance, only to have her pulled from his grasp.
"Mind if I cut in?"
Before Joe's dulled senses could react, Monica was dancing
away in the arms of a stranger. Joe turned to walk back to the
table, only to find himself confronted by a tall handsome man.
Without a word the man pulled Joe close and started to dance with
him.
"Gentlemen can't sit by and force two good looking gals like
you and your friend there to dance alone."
Joe was speechless. He didn't know what to do.
"My name's Bill Larson. What's yours?"
Terrified, Joe said nothing.
"The quiet type, hey. I like that."
They danced on and when it was over, Bill followed Joe back to
the table where Monica was sitting with the other man. Monica
introduced Joe to him.
"Sam this is my very good friend Joe Watson. Joe this is Sam
Bennet"
Joe was mortified. What if they discovered he was really a
man? But Sam just took his hand.
"My pleasure Jo."
"Will you guys join us?" asked Monica.
"You couldn't keep us away."
Joe had another drink. Later, he found himself on the dance
floor in Bill's arm's again. Bill pulled him close and Joe felt his
nipples rubbing against the man's chest through the satin lining of
his dress, slowly becoming aroused.
Bill placed his hand on Joe's ass. Joe knew he should leave or
at least say something, but with no experience in dealing with a
situation like this, he kept his mouth shut. Joe thought he smelled
something familiar about Bill but couldn't quite place it.
"Must be the cologne." Joe thought. "Maybe it's one I used to
wear."
Bill's pheromones continued to work on Joe, who found himself
relaxing in the tall man's arm's, getting more and more turned on.
Joe wanted to go back to his room so he could play with his titties
and masturbate.
When the dance was over, Bill pulled Joe tight and kissed him.
"NO!" Screamed Joe's mind, but his mouth opened wide, to
receive the man's probing tongue. Joe was paralyzed, he couldn't
unwrap his arms from around Bill. Bill's tongue located his and Joe
found himself playing with it, sucking on it. Then he felt Bill's
right hand on his breast.
Monica watched Bill and Joe swap spit on the dance floor, and
saw Bill cop a feel with no resistance. She smiled.
"Well, he's on his way."
Joe and Bill made small talk as Bill ran his hand up and down
Joe's smooth shapely leg.
"What is it about this guy that's so fascinating," thought
Joe.
Joe was really aroused now, he knew he should leave, but he
couldn't bring himself to do so. He found himself staring into deep
brown eyes, thinking how good-looking Bill was. "What's going on
with me?" Joe thought.
Joe traced his long fingernails along Bill's forearm, playing
with the wiry hairs. Finally he got it out.
"Bill, I really hate to say goodnight, but I have to work
tomorrow, and it's time I was getting home."
Bill would not be deterred from walking Joe to his room. When
the door was open, Joe turned to say goodnight and found himself
transfixed by those brown eyes. Bill pulled Joe close and kissed
him. Joe could feel Bill's hard cock pressing against his abdomen.
His pussy was melting.
"Please Jo. Can I come in? Just for a minute?"
Joe wanted to say," Just a minute my ass. I know your type. I
used to be one." but instead, to his horror, he heard himself
whisper sweetly.
"Yes."
They were kissing in his room now and Joe found himself
unbuttoning Bill's shirt.
"What's that smell?" Joe thought as he put his face to Bill's
chest. Joe ran his long fingernails through Bill's chest hairs,
remembering how his used to look, before they'd been replaced with
boobs.
Bill, meanwhile, had found and undone the buttons of Joe's
turtle neck and pulled the top of his dress down to his waist. Bill
stared at the magnificent tits revealed before him. He put his
mouth to one and started sucking and nibbling on it. Joe was going
crazy. Part of him cried out to stop this and get away, while
another part of him loved it. The latter prevailed.
On the bed now, Bill ran his hands up Joe's thighs, and Joe's
legs parted to admit him. Bill fondled Joe's cunt through his
panties; they were wet."Wow is this one ever hot!" Bill thought.
Joe felt Bill's hand fondling his cunt and reality seemed to
recede. Joe's hand brushed against Bill's cock and he knew what he
had to do. Pushing the man off of him, Joe sat up and started
undoing Bill's belt and trousers."No, no, no. Please don't do
this." Joe implored himself.
Bill's cock stood proudly before his face. Joe took the hard
cock between his bright red lips. He'd never had a queer thought
before, so why now this, all of a sudden? Joe found himself with
Bill's cock all the way down his throat. It felt so good. Joe's
nose was buried in Bill's pubic hairs and he loved the smell.
Bill pushed Joe's head away, then picked him up and turned him
around, facing away. The skirt of Joe's dress was up around his
waist by now. Bill grabbed the tiny bikini and pulled it down. Joe
felt Bill's hand playing with his pussy, then Bill's hands were on
his hips as he entered Joe from behind; doggie style.
Joe felt the thick cock sliding in and out of his pussy. Into
the spirit of it now, Joe raised his butt high and ground his cunt
up against Bill when he pushed in. Bill pushed his swollen cock in
as deep and as hard as he could.
Suddenly, Bill came, filling Joe's hot pussy with come.
"What the fuck?" thought Joe. "I haven't come yet."
Bill pulled out and lay back on the bed.
"Wow Jo. You sure are great in bed."
Joe was still highly aroused and disappointed as he climbed
around to face Bill. Joe was going to berate him when he felt
another craving take control. "Good God no!" he thought, but there
was no stopping it.
Joe found himself hungrily licking Bill's cum off of his spent
cock. He relished it, not having tasted any for so long. When it
was clean Joe lay back,as the inebriated Bill dozed off. Still
unsatisfied, part his mind thought, "Next time get two, and make
sure they're sober."
Where were these thoughts coming from? Joe didn't worry for
long. He started playing with his titties, arousing himself again
in preparation for masturbation. Putting his hand to his cunt, he
felt the wetness in it, and without thinking, brought his hand to
his lips and started licking off the mixture of Bill's cum and his
pussy juice.
CHAPTER 27
Joe walked back to his room from work. He had gotten pretty
good at being a waitress now and was proud that he'd been selected
"Waitress of the Month", after only two months on the job.
Joe's big thrill now was going home after work, getting
dressed up in some sexy clothes, and watching television as he
played with his boobs and pussy. Changing out of his uniform, Joe
considered doing something different tonight; a couple of the
groundskeepers had challenged him to play pool, after he'd
commented on their play this afternoon. Joe had been quite a
hustler in his college days, and he thought about how much money he
could take these guys for.
Joe's ass was up on the corner of the pool table. He had on
only his garter belt, stockings, and high heels.
"How do I keep winding up like this?" he asked himself.
Ramon was pounding away, with his huge cock deep in Joe's
tight snatch and Joe, laying down along the rail, held Dwayne's
long black cock firmly between his tattooed lips as it moved in and
out of his gullet, tickling his tonsils.
Gloria Watson sat in Dr. van Damme's office, watching as her
ex-husband was well and truly fucked. When the two gardeners were
done with him, she saw Joe get up and get dressed, semen dripping
from every orifice in his body.
"Well I would never have believed it if I hadn't seen his
progression with my own eyes. I must say I doubted you, but you
really did turn him into a cock-sucking bitch."
"Our goal is customer satisfaction," said Dr. van Damme, "and
Joe's has been working very hard to learn his new housekeeping
skills. It won't be long before he's ready."
"Outstanding," said Gloria Watson, "Good domestic help is so
hard to find these days."
"Is there anything else I can do for you Mrs. Watson?"
"Well Justine, I have a problem appearing on the horizon. In
three years Joe's son, Robert, turns twenty-one and can claim his
inheritance. He is just like his father and I am afraid that it is
his intention to destroy me financially and socially and see to it
that I am left destitute. I was wondering ... is there any way ...
would it be possible ... you know what I mean, to somehow prevent
this sad state of affairs from occurring?"
Dr. van Damme smiled. "Anything's possible."
Dr. van Damme spoke into her intercom. "Clarice. Bring in a
blank contract form please."
THE END
Or is it?
Sounds like those two have something in mind for dear Bob.
I invite you to find out what in the sequel:
Bob Gets His
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