Beach Bunni               by: kimmie oh

 

Turn over, darling, I think you’re done on that side.

That’s it, time to toast your buns a little. I know it’s terribly uncomfortable lying out in the sun so long, but you do want a perfect tan, don’t you? I like the way you look all nice and brown. Here, take a sip of water. Not too much. I don’t want you to get a tummy ache.

Remember, how you never liked to sit in the sun? You were always so white and pasty-looking. All you ever wanted to do was sit inside and stare at the computer screen, working over your silly equations. You were no fun at all. How did I ever put up with you? Well, just think of how sweet your soft brown arms will look in that little sleeveless sun-dress we saw at Macy’s. Not to mention how stunning your long tanned legs will look in those strappy gold sandals. Yes, darling, the ones with those impossible heels. That makes it all worthwhile, doesn’t it?

How do you like your bathing suit? That white fabric goes just beautifully against your dark skin. I know its really teeny. That thong panty leaves nothing to the imagination, does it? Your whole ass is exposed. That bikini top doesn’t hide much either. Two little white triangles straining to hold up those huge tits of yours. I know you didn’t want such large tits. But I couldn’t help myself. When they asked me what size implants, I just opted for the biggest. After all, I figured I might as well get my money’s worth. Besides, I thought it would be fitting seeing how much you used to like looking at other women’s tits. I’m sorry my own were never enough for you. No, don’t apologize. It doesn’t matter now, honey. I’m just glad you finally got the tits you always wanted. I guess you just never expected you’d be wearing them!

I’m sorry, honey, I don’t mean to laugh. I know that everyone just looks at you like a sex object. But can you blame them? What’s that? Oh, I was wondering what that kid was saying to you. How old was he, anyway? Thirteen? Fourteen? He thought you looked like who? I never heard of her. She’s a comic book character? No wonder I never heard of her! That’s just priceless, sweetheart. So, you look like a comic book heroine out of some adolescent boy’s wet dream. That’s even better than I could have expected!

Don’t pout.

Yes, it must be terribly frustrating. You have a mind and all. Of course. But do you really expect anyone to listen to what you have to say? I’m afraid no one takes a girl who looks like you seriously. It’s just the way it is. I know it’s unfair. But you should see how silly you look when you try to discuss politics or finance. Between that body of yours and that babydoll voice, nothing you say sounds the least bit important. No, sweetheart, you used to be a physics professor. Now you pierce ears in the mall. The sooner you accept that, the easier this will all be for you.

You should have seen yourself playing volleyball. I thought you were going to bounce right out of your top. You were all tits and ass and apologetic smiles. You played like such a sissy, squealing and throwing your hands helplessly up in front of your face every time the ball was hit to you. And the other team kept hitting the ball right at you! How many points did you lose? Oh well, the guys on your team didn’t seem to mind at all. The girls, well, that’s another matter. I know you’re not used to how mean other women can be to girls that look like you. You just want to be friends, I understand, but you have to realize that women resent all the attention you get from guys. They’ll always be jealous of you.

I know that you think you should never have admitted your little crossdressing fantasies to me. But the doctor said it was the only way for us to get our sex-life back on track. You were functionally impotent, if you remember. She said that if you acted out your fantasies it might help you regain your ability to perform. I’ll never forget that first night you dressed for me. You wore a little red satin nightie, red lace panties, and red toenail polish. You were so bashful. You really were such a doll. And the bulge in your panties, well, that was the end of your impotency problem, wasn’t it? I guess you must wonder why things just couldn’t have gone on the way they were. I’ve thought a lot about that myself the past two years. It’s hard to explain but I suppose I just started falling in love with your feminine side. You were so much more vulnerable and sweet and open when you dressed like a girl. I wanted to keep bringing that side of you out more and more. After a while, I couldn’t stop myself.

You didn’t object at all when I had you wear a bra and panties to work under your clothes. You thought it was just an extension of our sex games. You were thrilled when I slowly started replacing your wardrobe with women’s slacks and blouses. And you jumped at my suggestion to keep your nails buffed and lacquered with clear polish. Oh, that was only the beginning. You were still a man then. You could have put a stop to it all. But you didn’t want to, did you? No one forced you to spend your lunch-hour getting electrolysis. I merely commented on how pretty you’d look if you’re body were completely smooth. And when I took you to the salon to have your hair styled it was you who brought in that magazine with a picture of Heather Graham.

I guess it was inevitable that people started talking. By that time you had become a very effeminate-looking man. I don’t think even you realized just how far you’d gone. One day you came home in tears. You told me that the head of your department had called you into his office after a discussion with the administration. They had discussed your case and it was their decision that you take an immediate leave of absence and that your return be pending a complete psychological evaluation. A week later I took you to your psychiatrist. You wore a blue-plaid jumper, blue tights, and a pair of black ballet slippers. Your nails were freshly done, painted a coral pink to match your lip gloss, and folded demurely over your small shiny black handbag.

Dr. Nancy was quite surprised to see how far you’d gone. After all, you hadn’t been in to see her for five months. You didn’t have much to say so I had to fill her in on what had been happening to you. Every once in a while Dr. Nancy would ask you a direct question but, for the most part, we just talked about what to do with you as if you weren’t even there. It didn’t really matter what you thought anymore. You no longer knew what was best for you. You just sat there nervously fumbling with the clasp on your handbag as we discussed starting you on hormones. It must have been disorienting for you to hear how your life as a man was over and that you would now be living as a girl. Of course, you still didn’t know everything that was in store for you. But I think it was better that way, even if it did seem as if I were deceiving you. Really, I only had your best interests in mind.

I think the gender reassignment group that Dr. Nancy suggested did wonders for your self-esteem. To be around other girls like yourself made you so much more comfortable with what was happening to you. Every Thursday evening you would come home all excited with some new make-up or fashion tip you couldn’t wait to try. You’d spend hours curled up on the sofa watching television and talking on the phone with your new girlfriends. You no longer seemed so opinionated anymore. I soon realized that you would agree to anything that I said. You didn’t even object when I suggested the plastic surgery to weaken your chin and augment your cheekbones. And you patiently underwent three painful operations until I got your nose exactly the way I wanted it.

By then we’d already had your lips done and soon I’d bring you in to have your voice-box shaved. The hormones, liquid diet, and special exercise program you were on had started reshaping your body. Of course, the old problem of your impotence returned but it didn’t matter any more. I had a hard time convincing you of that, however. You were so attached to your useless little penis and so certain that I wouldn’t love you now that it had stopped functioning. It was so touching to watch how desperately you tried to make yourself hard for me. One night you just burst into tears and I knew you’d given up. I held you in my arms as you wept for your lost manhood. I tried to explain how it was perfectly okay, that I had been waiting for this to happen, that it was only natural. It was true. You see, I had reconciled myself to sacrificing that part of you long ago in exchange for bringing about your total transformation.

Sure enough, you transformation was nearly complete. You were dressing 24/7 and between the plastic surgery and the breast implants you could no longer return to work under your old identity. The fact was that Professor David Wallace no longer existed. In his place was a big titted blonde with a penchant for too-short skirts and too-high heels named Bunni. I know you thought that perhaps you could come back to teach as a woman, but the school just didn’t think that was a good idea. Instead, they gave you a generous severance package and extended bonuses if you would just walk away quietly.

Really, you didn’t have much of a choice. You would have been the topic of so much talk from both students and colleagues that you would never have been able to do your job. Transferring to another school was out of the question. I had no intention of relocating. And so you must content yourself with doing consulting research for clients who will never see you. Oh what a darling sight you make! I love to see you are at your desk, chewing on a pencil tip as you work through some complicated physics problem, your reading glasses perched at the end of your tiny upturned nose, your long nylon-encased legs crossed, a pump dangling from the tips of your manicured toes. And, of course, there is your job piercing ears at the mall. We need your consulting job for the money but your job at the Piercing Pavilion helps remind you of what you have become.

And what have you become? Why just look at you! I could never have believed that you would turn out to be such a sexy woman. And you are just as sweet and gentle as could be. There are no more fights or disagreements. Sure, there are things you don’t want to do, but you accept the fact that I know what’s best. Don’t you Bunni, sweetheart? Good girl. I know you do. It was very hard for you to accept the fact that your penis needed to be removed. I remember how terrified you were of the operation and how you begged me to let you keep it. How many times did I have to go over all the reasons why you would be better off without your penis? Some people might say I brainwashed you; but I would rather say it was a matter of trust. In the end, you trusted me to do what was right for you. I knew you would be happier once you were castrated. I imagine it must have been hard giving up that part of yourself, but really, it had long since been nothing more than a shrunken reminder of who you had once been. I knew that once it was gone you would be able to give yourself over to your new life in full.

And I was right, wasn’t I? You just adore your new vagina, don’t you? You are so perfectly smooth down there. You’ll never have an unsightly bulge in your panties ever again. What’s more, you never have to fear discovery if a man decides to get intimate with you. Yes, Bunni, I’m starting that again. Don’t make a face. Your gynecologist says you are very responsive down there, that when he examined you last time you even lubricated. Don’t be embarrassed. That’s just so wonderful! I’m so happy for you. Listen, you had to know that things couldn’t stay the same forever. We both need to move on sexually. We both have different needs now. I know it’s hard, sweetheart, but we’ve been all through this before.

Believe me, I appreciate the faith that you put in my judgment and I would never do anything to betray it. You’ve trusted me so far. I haven’t steered you wrong yet, have I? I realize that this is difficult, but you must know by now that I will always love you more than anyone else. After all, it's just sex.

Oh god, Bunni! You can be such a girl!

I know you have needs, too, darling. I know you don’t believe me now, but I’m doing this as much for you as I am for me. You’ll see. Before, when you were playing volleyball, could you feel the stares you were getting? Those guys on the next blanket over there were elbowing each other the whole time. I know you know which ones I’m talking about. I saw you peeking over there. Don’t try to deny it. They were snapping pictures of you with a little disposable camera.

I want you to go over there. Yes, you can do it, Bunni. You will do it. I want you to go over there with your bottle of cocoa butter and ask those guys very nicely, very sweetly, if they would mind putting suntan lotion on your back. I’m serious, Bunni. I know you are embarrassed but you need to do this. I don’t want you to come back here until one of them, or both of them, have asked you out on a date. Do you understand? I don’t care how you have to do it. But I have to say, I don’t think you’ll have much of a problem. Here, kneel down in front of me for a moment. Let me freshen your lipstick. Pucker up. That’s it.

Hmmmm.

Don’t turn around, but they are looking at you again. Oh, you’re blushing. How adorable. I know you want it darling. You don’t have to be embarrassed. Or worried. You’ll always have a place in my life, even if you aren’t my lover anymore. Yes, of course I like what you do with your mouth. But quite frankly, it’s not enough. Baby, I need a cock, a long, hot, hard cock. We both do. Deep down you know it. Sure, we can still play our little oral games at least until I get a steady boyfriend. Or get married. Yes, honey. It’s been two years now since I’ve had a real husband. Maybe not right now, but someday, I want to get married again. You had to know that would happen eventually. Please don’t get upset. We don’t have to talk about it now. I just started dating Frank. Besides, one day you’ll get married, too. I know you don’t think so now, but just wait. I’ve been right about everything else, haven’t I? We can even be bridesmaids at each other’s weddings! Wouldn’t that be the sweetest?

I knew that would make you smile.

There. You’re mouth is perfect.

So sexy.

If you’re lucky, these pouty lips will be wrapped tightly around a cock tonight. Are you getting wet again, honey? You can admit it. It’s perfectly natural. Oh Bunni, I’m so going to enjoy this part of making you a girl. There is so much we’ll be able to share: dating, sex, falling in love. It’s going to be so much fun. You’ll see. Here, don’t forget your sunglasses. Now let me give you a little kiss for luck. On the cheek. Like girls kiss. I don’t want to smudge your lipstick.

Now off you go, sweetheart.

 

 

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