An Invitation From Crystal

by Peter Joseph

 

I was shocked to receive a wonderful invitation from Crystal.

"I hope you do not mind this email. We have appreciated your contributions to story site. We analyzed your work and note that your themes have a commendable respect for people. It is because of this that I would like to meet with you. I propose to be in your city in the coming weeks and would be thankful for a quick, thirty to sixty minute meeting."

I was pole axed by the invitation and after further negotiation, agreed on a time and place.

I arrived earlier and watched from a vantage until Crystal turned up.

I stood admiring her before going up to make an introduction. She was taller than I imagined and face was not as rounded as she appears on the website.

We exchanged pleasantries before I took her to a restaurant within the Carlton hotel complex.

She was as comforting to talk with as was her face was overlooking the site. I told her that her photo had always had a nice effect on me, because it conveyed an uncompromising acceptance of me no matter what I was reading or thinking, and despite any tension I was feeling.

She thanked me for my comment and told me that the site was designed to be a place of support and comfort for all who used it. She explained that she was not the author of the site but an emissary for the work

After a gentle and nourishing meal experience, she told me that she wanted to meet with me because she identified in my work a strong and deep appreciation of the female form which did not translate into aggression but remained reverent.

"Some of you guys who are undone by a pair of breasts – as normal males should be. But rather than being aggressive you sit with the feeling, the emptiness of desire and wonder what it would be like to cross the traverse and have breasts yourself. You wonder what it would be like to be the object rather than the subject of your desire. There is nobility in this because your stories usually end up with you serving those who had needs like you experienced. We enjoy your stories because they are generous and serving."

"We think there is something wonderful and a need of liberation in your stories, and that is why I have come to talk with you!"

I was taken aback by her directness and stumbled banally and awkwardly admitted that I found breasts attractive

She interrupted me and told me that I was a normal male enjoying breasts and bid me to quit being so furtive in appreciating my glancing at her breasts. Then she discretely flipped.

"I wear them, but God build them for you guys to appreciate. Beauty blesses the beholder!"

She then observed that my stories typically is of a person who is unaware of the transformation process taking place, but who eventually rises up to fulfill a role as a sharer.

"We think your take on this is most beautiful and very correct."

"Now let me ask something: how did you feel when I flipped my blouse top button before? Did you feel I had cheapened myself: have you been cheapened, did the act lacked taste?

"No I thought it was warm and sharing" I said. I really did not know what to say, because I just felt good looking "I felt good gazing on you, I felt more human"

"So you should. You are a male. You were invented to react to the female form; you were made to feel good in the presence of breasts."

"But do you know, can I point out something. You I get the idea from your stories that as a male, you don't feel more human in sexual communication."

"I get the idea I think the obligation to act nobly in your sexual communication crushes the life out of you. In all other communication you are spontaneous, life giving and fun filled, but in sexual communication you paralyze, and it seems to spring from a fear that you may be causing damage to the woman."

"I can sit with this. Sexuality is serious communication which can hurt seriously."

"Yes but 'words are bullets' in situations and do extraordinary damage. But you seem to believe that a person's sensitivity and care goes dormant in the spontaneous sexual communication."

"It seems that this sense of responsibility crushes the life out of you!"

"Let me ask you again: Do you like peeping at my breasts? If you do and it gives you humanity, then come with me up to my room and let me share fully."

"Now don't you get crushed by this invitation. You would be coming to do me a favor. I need the intimacy to slow me down. You would make me feel warm and good! You would enjoy it too. I know you would!"

"But what would happen to you when we are done. How would you look at me and I look at you."

"Probably we would both be exhausted and would sleep for a while."

"But don't get too analytical, just come with me and be spontaneous. Let's act."

I did as I was bid and had a good time. Crystal knew how to because she knew how to play a musical instrument. I became her libretto with a slow build up built up a full orchestra climax.

We went to sleep and woke up as she was kissing the side of my face thanking me for the 'gentling influence' on her.

"Do you feel good" she asked. "I know you do and have I come now into your life to make you feel good, and perhaps so that you might allow others to feel good as well?"

I did not know what to say so I said that the time was wonderful and refreshing and would help me in the days ahead. It sounded banal, but I thought I needed to say something and that is what I felt, but it did not sound that good as I said it.

"Well let me tell you why I have come. I have come to make an offer to you. We all believe your stories are both wonderful and a little bit said. We worry that you have a sort of incarceration."

"I come with a liberating offer. Would you care to join me for twelve months helping people to become free, as I have helped you to be free?"

"You would like me to come away and work for you." I said "How could I afford that, with my job, my mortgage and other responsibilities."

"Money is not the problem," she said "You could come home with $m1 if you wanted to."

"Then I am interested. What is the catch?"

"The catch is that I invite you to come with me as a woman. You would have the chance to give yourself to others as I have now done with you. You would be anonymous and when your tour is done, looking as you do now, but you would return wealthy."

"Are you able to change me? How would you change me? How would I adjust to the change? Could I fulfill the role as you do?

"Actually your stories are close to the mark on how we would change your body. We have closely analyzed your stories, and we know you would manage well."

"Then what must I do" I asked.

"It is simple" she said. "Let me give you an injection now. Let me give you a mixture to drink each morning and evening, and let me fit you with this locked bracelet. Then the change will begin inexorably. You will have one month to clean up your affairs before you fly out to our transformation center."

"Can I think about it for a while?"

"I am sorry, I cannot allow you time. I have come a long way to be with you. We have a shortlist of people to whom this offer is being made. If you cannot accept, I will fly on and make the offer to the next on the list. This is a 'now or never' offer."

"Then I accept," I said.

Crystal reached forward and snapped a bracelet shut on my wrist.

She took a needle from under the bed and injected my arm.

"It is all happening as we speak. You will need to be organized because in a month, change will begin to be obvious"

"Now as a special favor, could you suck my breasts again and love me one more time. It will be the 'Last Post' for you and a help for me to sleep, as I leave in a plane in three hours.

I went home and read all the documents, drank my mixture and went to sleep wondering what it would be like to have rather than ogle woman's breasts.

  

  

  

*********************************************
© 2004 by Peter Joseph. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, and compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without the express written consent of StorySite and the copyright holder.