Message-ID: <4530eli$9710021732@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: vickietern@aol.com (VickieTern) Subject: New TG: Girlfriends by Vickie Tern 3/6 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: <19971002155700.LAA05990@ladder01.news.aol.com> Girlfriends by Vickie Tern 3/6 She tried to raise her head to kiss me, and couldn't reach quite that far. "For a pretty lady you're much too concerned to measure your prick against all others. A pretty lady can have all the pricks she wants if she plays her cards right. Bend toward me!" She strained her head up toward mine and kissed me, and yet again. "Now you can straighten up. I'm done with you for the moment. I just mussed your lipstick, incidentally." I looked down on her, absolutely in her thrall! I was the luckiest man in the world, and probably the luckiest woman too. "Well," she went on, snuggling into my crotch, and pretending not to notice the growing bulge there. "Well, it was then that you had that orgasm just from what I was doing with your breasts, remember, and you nearly passed out from it, and I told you then that something was happening, and more was going to happen. I am here to report now that it did." "Am I supposed to understand what you've just said?" She turned sideways to inspect my bulge. Suddenly she lifted her shoulders, swept my dress up past my crotch, said "Lift up!" and when I raised my rear end, tugged my panties down until my cock sprang free. Then she settled back down again with her cheek on my bare thighs, my penis alongside, my slip and shirred blue chiffon hemline just above. "There!" she said definitively. Then she kissed the tip of my exposed penis a few times, tentatively took the whole head into her mouth, and then pushed it out again with her tongue. "You like the way that feels?" she asked. I thanked God it wasn't rigid, so that even though lying in my lap, she could bend it and take it altogether into her mouth. But not just yet. "Tracy, you are the worst cock tease in prick history! What in the world are you talking about? What was happening?" "Sweetheart, enjoy your erections while you've got them. There'll be fewer, You're already softening, see? Isn't it lovely? -- already I can hold all of you in my mouth without even lifting my head from your lap, the same way you can lick and suck on my clit. Soon the only way you'll be able to penetrate me at all will be with a dildo, and then you'll see how right I was to give you lots of practice satisfying me with them." I was a little alarmed, Had I heard her right? "Tracy!?" I said, and she heard the anxiety in my voice. She settled back from the teasing tone she'd adopted, and her voice became more serious. She spoke comfortably, but her eyes never left mine. "It's like this, love. I wanted to help you fill out the creases in those brassieres of yours. I knew you were wearing them only because I asked you to. But I wanted you to wear them because you wanted to, because it would make you more like me, because it would satisfy you to wear them, because it turned you on to wear them. Because breasts feel wonderful and do wonderful things. Like that new kind of orgasm you had that night, with your whole body instead of just your limp dick. The best you've ever had, you told me." "I remember. It was unforgettable. And you've given me more of them since then." " "That was a genuine woman's orgasm, my sweet new club member. Authentic. Because for some months before then, and ever since then, even tonight during dinner, I've been feeding you hormones to enhance your pleasure and your figure. Women's hormones. Heavy doses of them. So you could feel what a woman feels in your body and your mind. What I feel. To make your moods softer, happier, nicer. You've been swallowing girly pills with your coffee, with your vitamins, with your beef wellington, lots of ways. Several kinds. Some kinds to counteract your male hormones so you'd be less aggressive in your lovemaking, more considerate, and they've been working just fine." She smiled to herself. "You're a gentle lover now, darling." She paused, while I thought about how wonderful it felt to be her beloved, loved, the passive recipient of her passion, making "loving friends" with her, feeling her longest dildo take excruciatingly forever to swoop into my bowels and then back out again, my anus quivering in anticipation of the next swoop. She kissed the tip of my penis again and then looked back up at me. "I can read your eyes perfectly," she said. "You like those hormones, don't you? You like the way they make you feel." Reluctantly, I had to nod. "But some of them are to speed you through the process that made me what I am. So you'd do what I did when I was a teenager. Become more of a woman. Smooth out your skin. Giggle more, and have fun more, and talk about how attracted you are to boys, in your case dildoes, and giving pleasure to boys, in your case giving hand jobs to dildoes and thinking about giving blow jobs, and taking an interest in looking beautiful, and in makeup. And to wonder how pretty or elegant you might look in a really nice dress. Like tonight. To feel pleased that you can attract a man's attentions. Like tonight. You liked getting dressed up tonight, and going out, and being admired. You were afraid to be thought a woman, but now that you think you are one, at least partly, you like the idea, don't you?" I nodded. "And darling, some your teenage girlhood is just like mine in another way. You're growing tits, and they're increasing in erotic sensitivity, and youre getting more of a really feminine figure. The hormones are changing your whole body. You think it's your new bras, but the fact is, you're a full cup size larger than you were, B now I think, and you're likely to be a C cup before we're through. I've seen pictures of your mother, and she's huge, and the way it goes is, like mother like son." She pursed her lips and blew me a reassuring kiss, and then added quickly, "Just one little thing though. Your penis. Your clit. That's what it's getting to be. Very soon it'll stop getting hard altogether, and you won't be able to fuck me with it any more. You'll have to use your dildoes on me instead. See how silly you were, resenting them? But the less you think about what you've lost, the more you'll appreciate what you've gained." I stared at her and felt a touch of indignation begin to rise in my innards! Tracy had been changing my body without telling me? Giving me tits? Breasts? Changing me from a man into a dickless giggling schoolgirl? Then into an elegant lady? And I loved it? I did love it! What had she done to me?! I'm a man! "Yes, you're a man my darling." How did she know that's what I was thinking? "You're my man. And I love you. I'd never harm you, never! But just remember again that orgasm just from my kissing your nipples, and the others, the way they aren't centered in your cock but begin far back inside you, and grow until finally they take over your whole body? And overwhelm you? And only then begin to subside." "Yes." 'Well, wasn't that better than any of those wham, bam, thank ye ma'am squirt climaxes you've had as a man? More utterly fulfilling? That's what those hormones do for you. Your tits feel good, and look good. They're going to get bigger, sweetheart, and feel better! There's no stopping them now. You'll have a really luscious figure before too much longer, and you'll love it the way I do. You're still a man, sweetheart, my man, but you're my sweet sissy girl man now. My darling sissy. My dearest girlfriend. Part of your body is already a woman's, and the nicest part of your mind too, I think. Welcome to the club, sweetheart, really. I know you'll love it. Not just for my sake, but for your own as well! And there's more coming too! Lots more! I want to share everything with you! Everything! You are loved by a very determined woman. You'll see!" I started to question her about this last, but she suddenly turned and began to suck on my cock like a starved baby on a mother's breast, and my brain went blank. This time nothing tentative, the way she had nibbled and tongued my "clit." This wasn't "loving friends"! This was full scale girl meets boy cock sucking! She lifted herself and turned to face my lap fully. Finally my prick rose fully to her impassioned sucking, her lips sliding over the head and down the shank greedily. It was iron hard this time, and full length as not for many weeks! Then to my amazement she deep throated me in a single thrust. My whole cock, gone down her throat! She then swallowed, and the most incredible sensation rose out of my loins. She swallowed again, and I groaned aloud as another wave of joyous sensation overtook the first! A third time, and I realized that with each swallow an undulation was moving along her throat and milking me so deliciously that I was near cumming! Then she pulled back and my wet cock re-emerged, slick and shiny. She then took my pink cock head in her mouth again, but this time sipped it gently, as if it were the tip of a straw. I almost died. She licked me along the underside some more, and finally, wrapped her throat around my cock again, and swallowed again. This time I came, throbbing, in buckets. Like never before! I saw the outside of her throat stretch and throb with each spurt as my cum went directly into her stomach -- she didn't even need to swallow! I was transported into paradise, so overwhelmed that I could only make small mewing sounds, over and over. When my pulsating died down and with great gasps I began to breathe again, she disgorged me. I couldn't even speak. Tracy had never sucked my cock that way, not even early in our engagement when I had asked her to. "No, there has to be a special reason," she'd said then, leaving me to wonder what reason would ever be special enough. Now there was one. Two, really. One was to distract me from anger that she had grown tits on me without even asking if I wanted them. I tried again to feel injured, and I was, a little, but I still felt that wonderful afterglow in my crotch. Of course I wanted breasts, I guess, now that I had them! As beautiful as hers! The other special reason I guess was, it was a kind of farewell to my cock. Any further deep-throated blow jobs weren't going to happen, because I wasn't going to be long or hard enough to be swallowed like that, not for much longer. But where had Tracy learned to do that?! "Where did you learn to do that?!" She smiled up at me. "You liked it? I thought you might. I can see you did. I told you, a teenage girl flooded with hormones learns lots of things, and thinks she needs to know even more of them. I knew lots of things before I met you, and I've learned more since. You're going through your teenage girlhood right now, honey. I want to teach you lots of things I know." "Like how to deep throat a dildo like that? What for?" She let a wicked look pass over her face. "There are lots of things a girl need to know about how to handle men. How to please them with no great effort. Even if a girl doesn't ever use what she knows, sweetheart, it's great for her self-confidence. You'll want to know you can suck a cock like that as easily as your ass already swallows a man sized prick. Tonight I wanted you to know how it feels, so you'd know when you learn to do it yourself." She paused, then decided to go ahead. "You remember 'the Emperor,' that huge dildo I use on you sometimes, with the big heavy veins and the hairy balls, the one I ask you to wet down with your mouth before I fuck you with it. I thought so. Well, I'll want you to practice with that dildo as if it were part of a real man. It'll help you feel more like a woman. And as a woman you'll enjoy it. It's so much bigger than own your cock there's no comparison, so you won't feel the least bit threatened by it. Really, making love to it is a privilege!" "And I've just had it re-mounted as a double dildo, so the back part pushes deep into my vagina and the shank rubs on my clit when it's mounted or its balls swing. So when you manage to swallow the head and push that monster down your esophagus, it'll feel to me as if it were my very own cock you were sluicing down. It's possible for you to give me an orgasm by cock sucking it. And it can cum too! It'll squirt whenever I think it's ready, so you can have a warm reward delivered directly into your tummy, as all good cock suckers should. Then if you're a dear and do well, I'll fuck you with it too, and squirt into you, and believe me, we'll both feel we're in heaven." "But Tracy, why?" I tried to ask it, but only a whisper came out. Why was she doing this to me? She heard me and knew I knew the answers, and she just snuggled in against me contentedly. Because she loves me and wants to share everything with me. Because the more feminine I become, the less reason she has to feel jealous when I associate with other women. Because she loves making love to women, though she also loves cock. Because she had once been molested, so she feels more secure with her girlfriend than with an all-male husband. Because she knows I love her and want what she wants, and won't let myself get outraged or upset no matter how outrageous her requests. Because part of me now enjoys being a woman anyhow -- desiring women, I'd like to be what I desire. Because if I'm a woman, Tracy thinks, I would enjoy sucking on a cock to make my man feel good. Even if I have no man. Were the hormones softening my brain? Instead of feeling betrayed, I wanted to kiss my darling. So I did. My thoughts were, she really cares for me, as best she knows how. She loves me! And I love her! My prick was still in the afterglow of cumming deep in her throat. And my breasts were growing, just like hers, with deep and powerful orgasms to come, and life was full! I felt so well cared for! Not at all angry. I tried again, but I couldn't muster it. Had she fed me a tranquilizer with tonight's hormones and confessions? If so I didn't care. She read all of this in my eyes impassively, and was satisfied with what she saw. "You know?" she said, her head still in my lap, looking steadily at me. "I think it's time we got you that perm. Your hair isn't really as manageable as it should be. And you need to have your nails done too. Nothing radical, nothing for those secretaries at your office to whisper about too loudly, not right away. Clear polish for now, we'll save the pinks and reds for another time. Oh don't object, sweetheart, you'll be more of a woman very soon, with nail polish the least of your concerns. I need you that way. And you'll want to be -- I'll see to that." She smiled up at me, busy with her plans. "But for now we'll just get you a cut and curl, maybe, and presentable hands. Your cuticles are in terrible shape. Incidentally, you'll need to practice how to sit and move more daintily if you want to look really lovely in my dresses. Not that you aren't adorable now, my pretty husband! I'm very pleased with you." Then she looked up at me appraisingly, almost as if I were a business proposition, or a roast in the oven. "Yes," she said tenderly as if to herself. "You're coming along nicely!" end two Three The next day I took off from work and went with Tracy to her beauty parlor, where she ordered up a deluxe makeover. She had me dress in a simple blouse and skirt for this first excursion out in daylight, and a loose cardigan sweater with a large flower pattern. I objected, and she just looked at me, and I acquiesced. Of course I had to dress like a woman. A man can't walk into a beauty parlor and walk out looking pretty! I was very lightly made up, not much more than mascara and lipstick, because it was all coming off anyhow. So I wasn't in deep disguise. Within a minute one of the women under a hair dryer glanced up, looked at me attentively, and broke into a smile. It was our across-the-street neighbor Beth! She knew me! She put down her magazine. "Hi, Tracy," she said affably, "I see your girlfriend is finally out in the open." "Yes," Tracy said. "Time enough. Say 'Hi' to Beth, sweetheart." 'Hi!" I said obediently, my mind whirling. No place to hide! Then I had to ask. "Beth, what do you mean 'finally'? You've known about me?" "Of course, dear girl! For a long time now we've seen you in your pretty lingerie and hairdo and makeup getting ready to greet Tracy when she gets home, and then the two of you enjoying a social hour in your living room, sometimes being much more than merely sociable." She smiled radiantly at me. "Our living rooms each have huge picture windows facing each other, remember? And you never pull the drapes. When I called Tracy months ago to suggest it, she just told me to enjoy the show with my husband, and even to invite our friends. She thought it would help you get over feeling ashamed, at least later on when you found out. Everybody knows about you, honey! Do enjoy your journey toward your true gender! The neighborhood association has already decided to send you flowers when you have your final operation." She smiled again at me, then returned to her magazine. I turned to Tracy, shocked! "The whole neighborhood knows? And they think I'm one of those women in men's bodies, who want to have women's bodies? For how long have they been thinking this?" Tracy replied in quiet, level tones. "Honey, lower your voice. They admire you for your courage. And they've all known for months. And aren't you going to have a woman's body? Don't you already, the way your bra has filled out? And by what you were saying so timidly just yesterday, aren't you right now more of a woman even in your own mind, now that you know the whole neighborhood thinks that's what you are? But here's Marge -- she's the beauty operator who'll see that you leave here looking absolutely gorgeous!" A few hours later came my second shock. It was quite disturbing, what they'd done. The perm, cut, and curl they gave me wasn't even androgynous. It made me look cute and a little helpless, a darling layered style Tracy called it. It surrounded my head so my face looked much smaller, even petite, and I had to say, a little mischievous. It was almost shoulder-length in back, and they finished it turned up to almost cover each ear. I had to agree that the effect was feminine and even a little flirtatious, yet very smart. They pierced my ears, and when I objected they advised me that the studs wouldn't be especially noticeable if I kept my hair styled exactly as it was. And they did my nails, with clear polish, true, but they gave them such a beautiful oval shape and such a high gloss there could be no question they were a woman's. not a neat man's. The studs in my ears prevented me from brushing my hairdo into some semblance of a male style at work as I'd hoped, and finally forced my transformation into the open for the first time, at least at work. I went in to work the next day braced to ignore whatever the secretaries' reactions. Some gawked, and some smirked. "Love your new hairdo," one said to me with a broad smile. "It really changes your whole look! No time this morning to put on your makeup?" I didn't ask what she meant, because I knew. I was very uncomfortable. That afternoon Connie, as office manager technically my supervisor, came into my office, closed the door, sat down, and explained how they all felt. "It's a good thing your wife called us this morning before you got in to warn us that you've transitioned, that you intend to look like a woman from now on," she said. "She did what?" I asked, startled. She ignored my question. "Obviously this is your business, and Tracy's, whatever you two have worked out with each other. But you're disturbing office routine, because the girls need to get something settled." I waited. "None of us can respect a man who isn't a man, or who is pretending to be a woman just for the novelty of it. It's insulting to all women." I started to insist that we all owe our colleagues due respect, and that I meant no disrespect, but she held up a beautifully manicured hand. "I know," she said. "Whether colleagues are men or women or a little of each. As sort of their boss, you've had the girls' respect, and I know I have yours. But not if you're playing at being a woman for kicks. Any woman can resent that!" I began to look grave, and again she held up her hand. "No, hear me out. On the other hand we can feel great affection for any man who is really trying to be a woman, a woman born into the wrong body and transitioning for example, because it's difficult, and deeply touching, and also I must say, it reaffirms our sex's importance when an almighty man wants to be one of us. It's flattering. So if I may ask, which are you?" I was silent for a moment. Then I realized what the answer had to be, tried to smile at her, and nervously fluffed up my new hairdo with both hands. Avoiding her eyes, I said, "My wife has wanted me to be a kind of woman all along, it seems, and she's recently made that quite clear. I try to want what she wants. Recently I've made lots of concessions. I want to be her dearest girlfriend at home and I'm trying very hard to be just that. Now I guess it's spilled over into the workday. Is that a good enough answer?" She thought about it. "Yes," she said. "It's sweet, and loving, and really very romantic. In a way I envy Tracy. Maybe I'll tell her that!" Then she stood up and held out her hand "Welcome to the club, honey. I really do love your hairdo. Let us help you any way we can. I think to show your good faith you should go the rest of the way with us, and really become one of the girls. Tracy told me you use makeup all the time at home now. Why not here too, now that we all know about you? And do feel free to use the Ladies' Room. In fact looking the way you do, I don't think you have any choice any more." What she was saying was logical, but I did feel a little pressured. Was I really ready to be an all-out full time woman at work as well as home? Since I was already known in the neighborhood, that meant to be full time all the time. No more pretending I was a man anywhere. How far did I want to go to satisfy Tracy? Or to fit in here at the office?. Suddenly Connie pressed her cheek to mine affectionately, and I realized I had to respond. "Thank you, dear." I said. "This means a great deal to me." Tears actually came to my eyes as I said these words, and she noticed them I'm sure. I struggled to find more to say, something typically woman to woman, to set our new relationship on the right road. "And I really love your nails, Connie. Who does them?" "Helene," she replied. "Right here in this building. Let me call her for you!" She picked up the phone, and that night when I came home my nails were as red as the lipstick I also wore home, borrowed from one of the girls in the Ladies' who thought I looked a little undressed without it. Tracy saw and smiled and said nothing. A few days later I borrowed another of Tracy's dresses, went out with her to buy more outfits, and then went out shopping on my own. That was how I began wearing women's clothes all the time, everywhere, and to avoid looking foolish used my feminine gestures and movements all the time, sometimes amusing Tracy by exaggerating my limp wrists and waggling way of walking. Outside of working hours Tracy and I were together constantly. Each night we bathed together, and she mounted me and I entered her under water. It became increasingly obvious that the regimen of hormones was making my penis softer. Even when fully erect, it was now barely able to penetrate her when called on to try. On the other hand my breasts now bulged out noticeably, and my nipples and areola were now cone-shaped, sagging toward hers as I leaned forward to be caressed by her exquisite fingertips until, blissfully, I felt the flood tide of an orgasm overwhelm me. True to her promise, she taught me to worship "the Emperor." At first I felt foolish and uneasy as she pushed my head down onto her massive cock and said, "Lick me, honey! Suck on me! Swallow me!" I did what I could. A few days later I successfully slid it down my throat and swallowed, and Tracy squealed, so I swallowed again and she squealed again. Now no question, I was one of the girls! "Doesn't it feel good you can do this?" she asked. "Doesn't it make you feel important? From now on I'm going to leave it strapped to that little padded chair over there in the corner, so each evening when you get home you can get on your knees and deep throat it all by yourself. Get lots of practice. Imagine it's whatever your heart desires. Maybe for fifteen minutes each day. Long enough to get a man to cum. Then a few times each week sit down on it and get used to feeling it way up inside you. Try to learn to live especially for those moments." So that too became part of my coming-home routine. Mostly I imagined it was Tracy's cock, or tried to imagine it was some other woman's. But it was so obviously masculine, with its veins and hairy balls, that now and then it would cross my mind that it was a man's, and I'd feel a little ashamed. When I told Tracy that, she said, "Ashamed to be a woman? Concentrate more on who you are and what you're doing." So I did. I still didn't like it whenever it crossed my mind it was definitely a man's penis, not a woman's. But I got used to it. And Tracy loved sucking me off too, taking my frequently limp cock into her mouth and tonguing it, or deep throating whatever dildo I was wearing to fuck her. Then came Tracy's hard time. The company let all of her associates go and asked her to carry their burdens, before she'd managed to hire and train an assistant. Her work took long, wearying hours, and sometimes when she got home she could barely stand. She had little or no time for her new girlfriend. One night I told her to quit, it wasn't worth it, we didn't need the money that badly. She just looked at me and said, "I can't, honey. It's what I do, and I'm proud that I do it well. I'll have help before too much longer, and then it'll get easier." Then she went straight to bed without even eating. So I took over the household, did all the shopping and cooking. I gossiped with a few women at the supermarket as if I were one of them, introduced by a neighbor had seen me coming and going and somehow assumed I was Tracy's cousin, staying with Tracy while her husband was away somewhere. Beth joined us one morning and set everyone straight. After that some of the women grinned mockingly or else turned away tense when I came near, but others showed me real affection, happy to have me for a sister. I looked for ways to take over Tracy's chores, and discovered the neglected lingerie hamper. There were so many tangled items that day that hand washing simply wasn't practical. So despite her warnings I put them in the machine. That's why when Tracy came into the house barely able to move, yet had to ask whose undies I was washing, I could truthfully answer "Ours." I was now her girlfriend husband, and accustomed to it. There was nothing odd in the reply. "Ours," she repeated, as if the concept were slow to sink in. Whose undies were being processed back to cleanliness and godliness? Ours. Today must have been an especially rough one for her. "That's good," she responded finally, despite hearing those delicate things being swirled in a machine. Then, "Start a bath for me, would you Hon? I'll be up in a minute. I just have to gather myself together here first." "Sure," I said. "Would you like me to join you in the tub? I'd be happy to!" "Just me this time, love," she said. "Tonight above all I need a good long soak in those perfumed bubbles and that bath oil. Please don't mind that we won't slide around on each other tonight. I just need to feel pampered." I did as she requested, and when she'd worked her way upstairs and into the bathroom she seemed crippled. "You've got to quit your job!" I said to her sternly, a little frightened in fact. "No job is worth your coming home like this. Just look at you! That's terrible!" "That's sweet!" she said, throwing me a wan smile of appreciation. "You care! " She unbuttoned her dress and peeled it off and set it aside, then shrugged her teddy off onto the floor, then her panties, and then she stepped into the tub. I picked up the teddy and panties for her as I always did and tossed them into the now empty hamper. They were both damp, as if she'd had to rinse them out at the office before beginning the trip home. An accident with a period just now getting under way? One of those long meetings you can't leave even when you must? end 3/6 Vickie Tern@AOL.COM -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /