Dream Come True

by Jennifer White

  

Don ate his lunch at his cubicle, rather than going to the cafeteria with the others. Everyone always talked about how hard of a worker he was, not even pausing to take a lunch break.

But what everyone didn't know, was that as soon as the floor cleared, Don's web browser would be started, and he would start surfing some of his favorite sites. Ones with strong TG content that is.

Don would read stories about forced feminization, and imagine that it was *him* going through the process. The internet was so fast here at work, he could look at stories with pictures too. He would save the good ones to a file, and read them again at home that night.

For him, it was a win-win situation; they all thought he was some kind of workaholic, gaining praise from his management and his peers. And he would get free high-speed access to the web sites he loved to look at.

This had been going on for years.

* * *

 

One day, the Chief Information Officer (CIO) sent Don an e-mail, requesting a meeting. He set it up with her secretary, and wondered what it could be about. With his growing reputation, perhaps she wanted to get some input on important issues in the technology department?

He felt proud that she was going to *him* for advice now. He was surely in line for a promotion soon. Then he would have a lot more money, not to mention free time.

 

Carol Rogale had been CIO for three years now. She was 47, and somewhat past the full flower of her beauty. She was in fairly good shape however, but she did have a reputation for being tough. And since she was going through her change, her reputation for grumpiness was almost legendary at the company. Everyone knew that she was divorced, and it was rumored that she hated all men because of it.

So it was not without some degree of trepidation that Don entered her office. His self confidence suddenly melted away when he looked up to see her stony face, as she read some papers on her desk. Perhaps it had been a mistake to think that she would actually think well of him.

"So Mr. Collins, do you know why I've called you here?" she said.

"I was hoping that it was to discuss the new corporate technical architecture plans" he replied hopefully.

She looked up, and the corners of her mouth almost turned up, as if to give a wry smile.

"I'm afraid that you are very much mistaken" she said. "This is something much more serious. Something career threatening."

She was *enjoying* this, dragging him out, and keeping him in suspense. It was as if she liked inflicting suffering on him. Don's heart was beating rapidly. This couldn't be good, whatever was coming.

Don gave her a blank look, and shrugged his shoulders.

"I called you here, because of some interesting results from SNOOPY, which is a new program the company launched last year, unbeknownst to our employees. On the surface, it helps the network by identifying frequently visited web sites, and caching the results, so that the overall traffic on the network is reduced. This gives faster throughput, and everyone is happy."

Don nodded his head. He had read about such programs in the trade press.

"But there is also another side to SNOOPY, one that you would find to be sinister: it knows every web site that had been visited by every employee. Management can then dig deeper, and see the content of what is being pulled down from the web."

Don's face turned beet red. She *knew* about him, and what he was doing with his time on the web.

"Employees are allowed to use the web connection at work for personal use, as long as it doesn't interfere with our jobs" he said.

"I know the employee manual Mr. Collins. You need not quote it to me. However, there is also a section of the manual that lists types of web sites that are forbidden. The ones you visit each and every day would fall under that category. In short, I have grounds to fire you."

"No..." he said, almost in a whisper.

"I would of course have to file the paperwork to show the reason why I am firing you, so your coworkers would all come to learn what it is you like to do. I would have to tell them the specifics of what kind of sites you visit, so they know to stay away themselves. I will make an example of you."

"Please!" he said. She couldn't do this! He needed this job, with the tough economy and all. He and his wife depended on his paycheck. His mind reeled. He would lose his job, his house, his wife would leave him...he couldn't allow that.

He looked up to Carol, who was smiling now. An evil smile. She *did* enjoy this, seeing him squirm.

"Yes, I think I shall begin the paperwork today, and by this time tomorrow, everyone will know all about you Mr. Collins. But first, I have a question for you. I find your predilections to be fascinating. I had never heard of such a thing. Tell me: do you really wish that you were a woman? Or is it that just the *thought* of being one of us makes you get your rocks off? Or is it that inside, you really prefer men, and by being forced to become a woman, then its not your fault anymore?"

He just stared at her.

"Its all right, you can tell me. I already know what you like. Admitting it won't hurt you any worse."

"Its that I just don't know. All I know is that it turns me on."

Carol nodded her head, and wrote down a note on the paper in front of her.

"I also notice that quite often in these stories, the man ends up under the complete control of a woman. I find that extremely fascinating as well. Do you like being dominated by a woman?"

"I...I've never really done it. I've just read about it. My wife is too timid and too conservative to try anything kinky."

"Oh, so you've never actually experienced the fantasies that you read about every day? You have such a strong interest in it that you can't miss a day without reading your stories, yet you've actually never even tried it?"

"Yes" he said, his head down. He was completely beaten now. He had admitted it to her. She had him over a barrel. He felt ashamed, embarrassed, and humiliated. And why was she dragging this out? Just get it over with!

 

"I have to tell you Don, that the same corporate manual that you were quoting from earlier said that what I have to do now, is to complete this form, tell you manager exactly what you did, and have him sign it. Then you'll be terminated, and can clean out your desk."

Don almost looked like he was about to cry. Carol scribbled down something on a paper form, and folded it over.

"Take this to your manager, and follow his instructions" said Carol. "But do not look at the paper! Understood?"

"Yes" said Don, taking it from her with a trembling hand. It was the longest walk in his life, going the 200 meters from Carol's office to his boss. He silently handed over the folded piece of paper to his boss, who scowled, and started reading it.

"I see" he said.

Don was crestfallen. Now his boss knew. He wanted to die. His boss signed and dated the bottom of the paper, folded it back up, and handed it over.

"I'll have the porters come box up your desk this afternoon. Take this back to Ms. Rogale."

Now the walk seemed even further, like walking down death row. Don stared at his shoes as he knocked on her door, and came back in. He handed the paper over to her, and sat down, his knees buckling.

"As the CIO" started Carol, "I have more power than anyone here, except for the president, the CEO and the VP of finance. So I am able to do things that others cannot, such as bending the rules to suit my purpose."

'So what?' thought Don. What rant was she going off on now?

"I find you an interesting case Mr. Collins, or should I say *Miss* Collins? Because that's what you are inside you know, a woman. Do you have a female name picked out for yourself? Its all right, you can tell me."

"Heather" whispered Don.

"Pretty. A very nice name. Very feminine. Miss Heather Collins."

Don was turning bright red again, as she continued to twist the knife into him.

"So Heather, because of my standing in the company, I have once again bent the rules. Instead of signing your termination papers, you manager just signed a transfer order. You now work for *me*."

Don looked up, equally stunned. He wasn't fired? And he worked for Carol now?

"Why..." he started.

"Because I am about to make your deepest inner fantasies come true" she said. "I am going to turn you into a woman."

Don suddenly became fully aroused. This could not be happening. But it was. He realized that with Carol's penchant for cruelty, she would be an ideal dominatrix. And she said that his fantasies fascinated her. She was going to really do this!

"You realize the implications" she said, nodding her head. "You are completely mine now. I can have you fired in an instant, and I will not hesitate to tell everyone including your wife and all your relatives in your personnel file all about you. Do you think your daughter would like to find out that her daddy really wishes he was her mommy?"

She had him completely. There was nothing he could do. He was even more aroused now, as the domination began. This was what he had always wanted! He was about to live out his deepest fantasy! The look on his face changed from one of horror to a warm smile.

"Heather, you have an assignment for tonight. Go home now, but first stop at a store, and buy yourself a pair of bras, and several sets of panties. They must be bright red and black. You may wear your male clothes for now, but when you come in tomorrow, you must wear your black set. Understand?"

"Yes Ms. Rogale" he replied.

"Very good. Off you go!"

* * *

 

The next day, Don reported for work a few minutes before 8:00, right on time.

"Ah Heather, you are on time. Very good. I demand punctuality from my employees. Here is your new desk."

"But that's the secretary's desk. I'm an engineer" said Don.

"Not anymore. Now you are my personal assistant. So it will be just you and I in my office, where the others in my department cannot see you. But I think in time that you will come to prefer this arrangement."

Don's belongings were in boxes next to the secretary's desk in Carol's office suite. He began to unpack.

"Throw out anything related to engineering. You'll never do that again. And throw out anything related to being male. That is another something else you'll never do again."

When Don found a scale model red Corvette, Carol told him to throw it out, because it was "too male". Then when Don pulled out the trophy from the company golf tournament, with a statue of a male golfer at the top, Carol motioned for him to hand it over to her.

"I'll be right back" she said, as Don continued unpacking.

 

A few minutes later, she returned with the trophy. But it was different. The statue at the top of a male golfer had been replaced by one of a *woman* golfer. She was wearing a skirt. Her chest poked out on front of her.

"We bought a ten year supply of these, to save money" she explained. "We put them together out of the box of parts every year. So I just switched the top for you. Now it is something feminine enough to keep on your desk."

When Don was done unpacking, there were very few things of his own left. Most of it was in the trash.

"Now you need to pretty up your desk a bit Heather. I want you to buy a vase, and every Monday purchase a bouquet from the gift shop. Then you'll always have fresh cut flowers. And go buy a couple of picture frames. Put pictures of babies in them. You desk needs to look like it belongs to a woman. Is that clear?"

"Yes Ms. Rogale."

"Very good. Now you look hot. Please take off your jacket."

Don was reluctant, and shook his head.

"I said, take off your jacket! You dare not disobey me ever again, or the punishment will be quite severe. Remember, you belong to me now Heather. You are *mine*!"

Don took off his suit jacket, and draped it over the hanger on the wall. He looked down. The outline of the black bra clearly showed through his white starched shirt.

"Anyone who comes in here would be able to see that I'm wearing a bra!" he protested.

"Yes. And that's the whole point, isn't it?"

The bra itched, and it bothered him. It kept riding up on him too. The straps dug into his shoulders. He didn't know enough about them to have been properly fitted. Nor did he know how to adjust one. It wasn't like he could just ask his wife!

"And you have your panties on too? Take off your pants and show me."

Don turned bright red.

"I am your master now Heather. Don't be embarrassed to do something like drop your drawers. Before long, you will do much more than that for me!

Reluctantly, Don undid his belt, unbuckled and unzipped his trousers, and pulled them down to reveal the black lacy panties he wore underneath.

"Very nice Heather. But don't they look terrible with all that hair? You need to shave your legs for me, so when you come in tomorrow, you'll be nice and smooth."

"Yes Ms. Rogale" said Don, who had secretly always wanted to do that. Now he was going to be able to! He couldn't hide his arousal from her.

"I see that he likes it" said Carol. "Go ahead, let him get big, for now. He may not be around much longer, so let him have his fun while he can."

The threat of losing what he had between his legs made Don even harder now. Without words, his body had confirmed to Carol what it was he liked.

"You will wear a bra and panties to work every day, from now on" said Carol. "For the time being, you may still dress like a man, and call yourself 'Don' when you are in the presence of others. But when we are alone, you are Heather."

"I am Heather" said Don, showing her that he would obey.

Wearing panties takes away the one advantage of being a man: when you use the men's room, you can't stand up to pee. You need to get a stall, and sit down. Just like a girl does. Even at home, I don't want you to go like a man. You will always go like a *girl*."

"Yes Ms. Rogale" he said.

"Bit by bit, I will turn you into a woman. Your daily routine will be changed slightly every day, always moving forward. Every day already, you will put on a bra and panties. And shave your legs. And pee like a girl. Soon, every moment of your day will consist of a completely feminine routine."

 

Carol made Don sit at the secretary station, and type some letters. A few minutes later, a young woman walked in. Don looked up, and recognized her as Betty West, a young manager. She started talking to Carol, paying him no notice.

"Betty, I'd like you to meet my new assistant."

Betty walked over to Don to shake hands. She looked down at him, and he realized that she would be able to see the bra under his shirt. She would know.

"Hi, I'm Don" he said, his hand trembling as he shook hers.

"I'm Betty" she replied.

Betty walked over to Carol's desk, and sat down. She talked in a low tone, but Don could clearly hear the words.

"He's kind of limp wristed over there. Is he...you know?"

"Look closely at his chest" said Carol.

"Oh, he's got a bra on" said Betty, covering her mouth with her hand to hide her smile.

Don just wanted to die. It was bad enough to have to wear the bra, but to have her *point it out* to someone made things even worse.

 

When Betty left, Don confronted Carol.

"Why do you have to humiliate me like that?" he said.

"First of all, *I* own you now. I can do anything I want with you, remember? You are completely mine. And secondly, that is not what *I* call humiliation. When I humiliate you, you'll really know it."

"But now she knows all about me!" he protested.

"That's the whole point!" said Carol. "What is it that I told you I'm doing to you?"

"You're turning me into a woman" said Don.

"Exactly. When I've completed my work, you *will* be a woman. An as a woman, you will always be wearing a bra. And people will see that you are wearing one. So what I am doing right now, is preparing you for what is to come. I am getting you ready to be a woman."

"But..." he started.

"Do not argue with me! I've already warned you once."

"Yes ma'am" he said, bowing his head, defeated.

* * *

 

The next day, Don arrived to work with the flowers as Carol had ordered. He placed them in a vase on his desk. He had also remembered to shave his legs, like she told him. Of course, she made him take his pants off, to inspect the work.

"Very good. You need to make sure you keep them nice and smooth like that. Every few days you'll need to keep at it."

"Yes Ms. Rogale" he replied.

"Now I have a gift for you Heather."

Carol handed over a box, which Don took and excitedly opened. Inside were two items: a pair of silky nylons with a control top, and a charcoal gray skirt.

"What's the use of having pretty smooth legs if you can't show them off?" said Carol. "Go ahead, put them on!"

Don started to pull on the nylons by grabbing the top and pulling, but Carol had to show him how to do it without causing a snag or a tear. Once they were in place, he marveled at how his legs looked. Just like those of a woman. He was completely hard now, and as he pulled on a skirt for the first time in his life, he thought he was going to come in his panties.

The skirt went quite a bit further up his waist than pants did, which felt strange. As he spun around, and felt the soft fabric rub up against the nylons, shivers of delight traveled up and down his spine. He didn't even see Carol, as she pulled out a second box.

"And here is the other gift" she said. "I had to work hard to find them in your size."

Inside this box were a pair of black pumps, with a high heel and a pointy toe. Don could not believe it! He stepped into them, and looked down at what they did for his calves. He felt so sexy, so feminine, so alive!

He took some tentative steps, getting used to how to balance in them. He had never worn a shoe with heels before, and this was all new to him. He was living out his fantasy.

 

"Now Heather, go sit at your desk. I have an appointment soon. I will want you to take notes."

"Yes Ms. Rogale" said Don eagerly. This was wonderful!

He organized his desk, got out paper and a pen, and got ready. There was a knock at the door.

"Now Heather, remember yesterday when you argued with me?"

"Yes..." said Don.

"Well, to make sure it never happens again, I will show you what happens when you are not a good girl."

She got up herself, and opened the door for the guest. It was Sue Langdon, another woman, a manager in the technology department. She sat down at the desk with Carol, and opened up a folder full of documents.

Don squirmed at his desk. She hadn't noticed anything strange about him...but he realized that if she came to his side of the room, or if he stood up, then she would see that he was wearing a skirt, nylons, and heels! He tried to slide down lower in his chair so that she wouldn't be able to see.

He took notes as Carol had requested. His heart slowed down a little, and he finally relaxed, just a bit.

"Oh Don, would you please bring me a glass of water? I am quite parched" said Carol.

All of the color drained from his face. He would have to stand up, and go out in the open! He tried not to let his heels click on the floor as he went to the back of the room where the water cooler was. He poured two glasses, one for each of the women, then walked back to the desk. He set both glasses down, and realized that Sue was so busy going over facts and figures that she didn't notice Don's attire.

He quickly tried to get back behind his desk, but as he went to sit down, he heard giggling.

"Is your assistant wearing a skirt?" asked Sue.

"Yes he is" replied Carol, proudly! "I moved him to my department, because he needs privacy here. The other employees would make fun of him, if he work those clothes in the general areas. But you know how it is these days; you can't fire someone just because he likes to dress up like a woman at work. So he works for me now."

"Can I see?" asked Sue.

"Sure. I call him Heather, because he prefers that." said Carol, before she turned back towards the secretary desk.

"Heather, come here and show Mrs. Langdon your pretty outfit" she said loudly. Don had no choice. He got up, and walked over towards the two women.

"Twirl around, like a model" she said. He did it, and felt like he wanted to be anywhere but there. It was so awful to have someone see him like this! He really did want to die. Now someone else knew of his secret.

"Sue promises that she will not tell a soul about you Heather" said Carol, reassuringly. "You can go back to work now. There's a good girl."

 

After Sue had left, Don was so angry that he didn't know what to do.

"How could you do that to me?" he said.

"You did it to yourself Heather. Now just remember, the next time you want to argue with me, you will receive a *worse* punishment than that. And for each infraction, it will only get worse and worse."

"I promise to be good" said Don. He swore to never argue with her again. It wasn't worth having to go through that!

 

"I have an assignment for you tonight" said Carol, as the day wound to a close, and Don put his pants and wing tip shoes back on. Carol hung the skirt in her coat closet, and placed the pumps there too.

"What is it?" asked Don.

"Come look at this clothes catalog. See these pants here? These are women's pants. They are made of a stretch material to hug a girl's curves, and have a slightly flared leg. But you'll be able to wear them around the office without standing out. Only you and I will know that they're really girl's pants."

Don gulped. He was going to have to start wearing girl's pants at work now too.

"And these tops here are for women too, but again they won't stand out. Go buy enough of them to have a different outfit every day. Some days I will make you change into your skirt when you arrive, some days you'll go around in pants. But either way, from now on, you will only wear clothing made for girls. Is that clear?"

"Yes Ms. Rogale" said a reluctant Don. But he was not about to argue the point. He set off for a shopping trip.

* * *

 

By the end of the week, Don was exhausted. True to her word, every day, Carol had added one minor thing to his list of tasks. He was now wearing a style of women's shoes that looked almost like men's. In fact, not one article of clothing he wore anymore was made for men.

And even over the weekend, he had to go out and buy a makeup kit, and get a manicure (but thankfully he only had to use a clear coat instead of nail polish).

He showed her his hands on Monday morning, and she was pleased. He thought that nobody would notice the clear coat once it dried, but he was mortified to find that it was highly reflective, and you could tell that he had done something to his fingernails.

"I have a present for you, Heather" said Carol.

Don had come to dread her presents. They tended to be something that would excite him for a while, but in the long run, cause him pain and embarrassment.

He opened the box, and looked in to see a pair of "inserts".

"These are flesh colored silicon get" said Carol. "Women use them to add to their bust size, for special occasions. These will only add about an inch to your bust, but as a girl, if you can completely fill out a bigger bra, it is a huge plus!"

She made Don take off his top, and she showed him how to put them into the padded bra she had told him to wear. They felt cold and clammy against his skin at first, but they quickly warmed up to body temperature. They even had a fake nipple on the front of them, sticking up stiffly.

"And I have this for you too" said Carol. It was a blouse, very feminine with a scoop neck. It was also very tight, whereas Don's other tops were loose fitting. Being tight, it made his little booblets really seem to stick out.

It was only one inch, but between the padded bra and the insert, Don felt huge, like he really did have big boobs. Going from nothing to something bigger would be a bigger shock to the system than moving from them to anything else in the future.

"You will *always* wear your inserts at work" said Carol. "Do you understand?"

"Yes Ms. Rogale. I will always wear my inserts" said Don.

"Heather, tell me that you wish you had big boobs."

"I wish I had big boobs" said Don. It *was* true. He just didn't like how it felt to be *forced* to do it. He wanted to dress up in private, not at work. But she was feminizing him right there in the office! He felt powerless and weak, as every day she moved him further forward.

 

On Tuesday, she made him start to wear light makeup on his face. Then the next day, he also had to wear a shade of lipstick that was barely noticeable. Then a nail polish the same color as his nail beds, only more consistent than the natural variations.

"Over time, you will start to wear more and more prominent colors" she said. "And soon we will add mascara to the list. But for now, just the fact that you are wearing makeup and nail polish every day is sufficient."

In his skirt and high heels, Don felt so fragile that he would start crying sometimes. Carol would console him, and tell him that all girls get emotional.

But she was only supportive to a degree. And she kept heaping on task after task.

"I want you to get a good pair of tweezers today, and pluck out five hairs from each of your eyebrows. It will be very gradual, but in a few months, when they're down to just a fine thin womanly line, then you will just have to maintain them. But for now, you need to reduce them."

Don realized that soon, just by looking at him, everyone would know that something was up. His wife was acting strangely towards him, keeping distant. It wasn't like her. But she didn't want to talk about it.

He was thankful when Friday rolled around, even if his assignment for Monday was to paint his toenails in a bright red color. That meant he would have to quit his basketball team. If they saw him in the shower with shaved legs and painted toenails...

He realized what Carol was doing. She was starting to put more and more of a control on his entire life. At first, he thought he could get away with being a woman at work, then going back to his normal life. But she was going to make sure that she controlled *every* aspect of his life.

He felt a twitch between his legs. The thought that she truly *controlled* him made him twinge. He didn't know if he liked this anymore. He didn't want to go any further. But what was he going to do? Quit his job? No, he had to continue on with her tortures.

* * *

 

On Monday, Don wasn't too surprised that Carol had another present for him. It turned out to be a wig, with long blond hair.

"Once your own hair grows long enough, we can get it dyed blond. But it takes a long time for hair to grow, so you will use this until then."

With the long hair cascading over his face, he felt lost within his role of Heather. So little of being Don remained! There was just his home life. At work, she was making him wear the skirt all the time now. And he was becoming accustomed to being called "Heather", and even expected it now. In fact, while shopping at the mall on Sunday, he heard someone say the name Heather, and he turned around, saying 'yes?' without thinking. He felt like he was starting to drown in femininity.

 

The day went by fast however, and he was relived that Carol had not done anything yet today to add to his burdens. But as they got ready to leave for the night, she had something to tell him.

"Inform your wife tonight that you are going to spend next week out of town on a business trip. If she asks what it is about, you will tell her 'training'. Do you understand?"

"Yes Ms. Rogale" said Don. "Where are we going?"

"Actually, we're not leaving town. We are going to spend the week at my house. There, you will learn quite a bit about being a woman. So I suppose that 'training' is correct after all. I will be training you in how to be female."

 

Don's wife wasn't pleased at the news. They had a big argument, and he ended up sleeping on the couch. That made him not get a good sleep, and as a result he was five minutes late to work.

"I am disappointed in you Heather. I specifically told you that I demand punctuality" said Carol, shaking her head. "As a punishment for being late, you will have to wear these now."

She handed a new pair of inserts to Don, ones that were at least two and a half inches thick. There would be no mistaking it now, that he had breasts under his blouse.

"And you will start to use this shade of nail polish. Put it on now!"

It was a darker pink than the pale one used before, and now it was more readily apparent that he indeed was wearing nail polish. Bigger boobs, and more colorful nails. He vowed never to be late again.

 

The week wore on, and Don was now past the point of caring what additional tasks Carol gave him. It didn't matter anymore. He was sure that everyone at work was talking about him, and that they all knew. How could they not? We was wearing women's clothes, a bra stuffed with several inches of fake boob, and dark enough nail polish to notice. It wasn't fall yet, so he couldn't get away with wearing gloves. And he couldn't go to the cafeteria to eat anymore. He was trapped in Carol's office, all the time.

He was becoming numb to it all. It wasn't a game anymore, and it wasn't fun. He wanted out. But how? He decided that during the 'business trip' next week, he would have a long talk with Carol, and convince her to let him go free.

* * *

 

Sunday evening couldn't come fast enough. Don showed up at Carol's house, and parked his car in her four car garage, which had two empty spaces. He brought in his suitcase, and she directed him to a bedroom. The decor was very feminine, and there was no mistaking the fact that it was a girl's room.

Don unpacked, and found that the dresser and the closet were full to the bursting point with women's clothes, undergarments, shoes and accessories.

"I brought you here this week Heather, because I know that at work you feel threatened by discovery. You don't want people to see you for the girl that you really are. But here, we have complete privacy. You will spend the entire week here as a woman, with no breaks. You will walk, talk, think and *feel* like a woman, at all times."

Now this was more like it! This was Don's fantasy, come to life. He would wait until *after* the week was up, to ask for his freedom. He was going to enjoy this part, or so he thought.

"First of all, those inserts of yours are too tiny. For this week, you will be wearing these."

She showed him a box containing two large breast forms, the same size as a real breast. They were held in place with a special glue, so they wouldn't slip. He felt like he was stacked once they were in place.

"And you will wear these special panties" she said, handing them to him. They were padded in the rear and the hips, making it seem like he had curves.

"And you will wear full makeup, perfume, red nail polish, jewelry, and of course your wig at all times."

 

An hour later, Don looked in the mirror, and saw a fully feminine image of himself. In a little black dress, dark nylons, makeup and the works, he looked like a real woman! This was his dream come true. He really did feel like a woman now.

"Way back at the start Heather, I asked you why you wanted to be a woman. You didn't have an answer for me back then. Do you have one now? Have you searched your soul, and realized why it is that you have chosen this path for yourself?"

"I'm sorry Ma'am, but no I haven't been able to figure it out."

"Well *I* know why you did. It is because you want to serve *me*, and you could only do it if you do it if you became a woman. By making yourself into a woman, you are showing me that you submit to my feminine superiority. You are showing me that you look up to women so much, that you want to be one of *us*. Isn't that true?"

"Yes" whispered Don hoarsely.

"You like belonging to a woman, don't you? And your wife is too weak. You sought out a more powerful woman, one who could rule you. And that is why you are now *mine*. In every way. And this week, we will prove it. When I get done with you, there will be no doubt at all in your mind as to who you are, what you are, and what you want. I will empty out all your male traits, all your resistance, and fill the empty places with *me*. You will become nothing but an extension of me, doing only my bidding. You will have no free will of your own; you only live to serve me."

Don looked up at this middle-aged woman, wrinkles and all. She was womanly, but was no longer pretty. Yet she spoke with a power and a force that he could not deny. She knew exactly what he wanted to hear, and said all the right words. If this was a game, it was better than he could have ever imagined. If this was for *real*, and she was truly going to make him her slave, then at least he would enjoy has last few days of self-determination.

"First of all Heather, I have a few tests for you. On this table here, you see several objects."

She pulled back a white sheet that had been covering a table. It revealed several objects, which made his heart jump into high gear, and begin pounding.

"First, we have this bottle of estrogen pills. If you want to really be a woman, then come take your first dose. A large dose to begin the process of switching the feminine traits in your cells on. You'll start to grow real boobs of your own. You will lose the ability to get hard. Your skin will get soft. You will start to transform into a woman."

Don was very excited, and felt himself indeed get very hard.

"Or second, we have this strap-on. I can put it on, have you give me BJs, to practice for when I invite some young men over. Then you can do them all night to your hearts content. I can also use it to penetrate you, and show you who it is that goes on top, in bed."

Don was excited, yet disgusted. He wanted to be a woman, but the thought of being with a male was revolting and a turnoff.

"Third, I can use this whip, put on my leather clothes, and completely dominate you. I can use pain to make you do anything I choose, and make you my total complete slave."

That was really exciting to him, being dominated by a woman. But not as good as option #1.

"Fourth, we have this frilly dress. You can wear it, and I will turn you into a sissy."

That got his attention, and seemed exciting too.

"Or lastly, we have this drug you can take. It will make you weak, and render you unconscious. I will then brainwash you, and when you wake up, your willpower will be gone. You will *believe* that you are really a woman."

That was also very appealing.

"And I get to choose?" said Don.

"What do you say?"

"Well, they all sound exciting. I like parts of each of them. But I cannot decide. I belong to you, and you must decide for me. I put myself at your mercy."

Carol had anticipated such a reply. Don had become very dependent on her lately, relying on her to make all the decisions at work. So she was prepared.

"Come sit in this chair. I will tie you up, then I will tell you what your fate will be."

Don eagerly sat down, and let her tie him up. He was very hard now, on the verge of orgasm. She made sure to spread his legs wide, and tie the ankles to the chair as well.

 

"I have decided...." she said, giving a dramatic pause, "...after careful consideration, that your fate this week will be to undergo *all* of the options. I will make you take your estrogen pills, and start your physical transformation. I will brainwash you, and start your mental transformation. I will alter your sexuality, and make you service my male friends. I will use the strap-on, and give it to you as well. I will make you a weak sissy, *and* I will use pain to dominate and train you. I will do all this, and more."

Don did come in his panties. From the look on his face, Carol could tell. She gave a wicked smile. She was going to enjoy her week off...

* * *

 

From the moment that the drugs he took started to kick in, the whole week was a blur for Heather. She remembered small bits of it, but they were fleeting, like a dream.

She remembered taking estrogen pills, and hearing Carol talk.

"You're a woman now, with the same sex hormones flowing in your veins as we do. You are one of us."

She remembered dressing as a sexy maid, and washing all the windows in Carol's large house, while she watched closely and made sure he did a perfect job.

She remembered being hit by the whip for not being obedient enough, and doubling over in pain from it. She remembered blacking out from the pain as he looked up at her, helpless.

She remembered calling some woman, and telling her that a man named Don was gone forever, and that he had left her all his estate. The woman had seemed happy to hear that, and mommy Carol was pleased that she had done such a good job.

She seemed to remember suckling on mommy Carol's breasts, as she said: "There, there baby Heather. Mommy's little girl is going to be all right now. What a pretty little girl you are."

She remembered wearing frilly dresses, and learning to skip and hop, and play little girl games. She remembered feeling proud that his bra was filled out by the mounds on her chest. Other girls her age were still flat, but she was already developing.

She remembered as Carol brought a few guys over for a party, and she allowed her to date one. She remembered her first kiss, and how she pleased the boy the way that mommy Carol had showed her. She had practiced quite a bit!

The only thing that she couldn't remember was that she thought that she had once used another name. But try as she might, the only name she could ever remember using was Heather. *Her* name.

* * *

 

Heather filed her nails, and looked at the pile with all the typing that needed to be done. Carol had been busy lately, with it being the end of the year and all. They would both work late into the night, before going home.

They both lived at Carol's house now. During the day, Heather was Carol's assistant, doing whatever she needed to do her job. Then they would go home, where Carol was the lord and master of the house. Heather would serve her, do the chores, cook, clean, and whatever was needed. Then she would give Carol pleasure in bed, using her tongue like she had been taught.

Sometimes they went on double dates, but Carol told Heather that she didn't want any man coming in between them. Their relationship together was more important.

That was what Heather loved so much about Carol. She sighed as she plunged her scrub brush back into the bucket of warm water and cleanser. Carol cared for her so much! She loved her so. That was why Heather would do *anything* to keep her happy. Look how happy she had made Heather feel.

Heather took off her latex gloves, which were protecting her long nails from the harsh chemicals of the cleanser. She was so luck to have someone like Carol. What more could a girl ask for?

  

  

  

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