Going All The Way

by Jennifer White

 

On business trips, I would tend to be gone for the whole week. I'd fly out on Sunday, and return Friday afternoon. I only had to travel every third week or so, but sometimes things got busy. Like at the end of the quarter. I might be gone three weeks in a row.

And when you return home, you have to do the housework, pay the bills, mow the lawn, wash your clothes, take the shirts and suit to the dry cleaner....all the chores that have piled up for the week.

 

So this left very little time for my hobby when I was traveling. So I decided to take it with me. You see, my hobby is dressing up like a woman. It takes a lot of time and care to do it right. But when you are all dressed up, wearing makeup, wearing a wig, your jewelry on, your perfume, your nails all done up...there is nothing quite like it. I would live that way all day, every day, if society would let me. But of course, there is the social stigma of it all, so I just kept it to myself, and in the closet.

When I first decided to bring some of my things with me, it brought a whole new level of excitement to it all. What if they search my luggage for security reasons, and see that I have panties and bras along with my suits and ties? What if I'm all dressed up, and the maid starts to walk in the door? It gave me tingles, and the sense of danger made the pleasure even greater. I even dared a few times to venture down to the hotel bar! What a rush!

Now things were a little different. I was going on an international business trip. Instead of just flying to the west coast, I was going all the way to eastern Europe! This was going to be a lot of fun. And since it was a two week trip, I just *had* to bring my things with me.

On the way there, I was so excited that I did one of my usual things: when I went into the tiny little bathroom, I opened up the cupboard, pulled out a maxi-pad, and put it in my panties. I felt so excited wearing one! Just like a real girl.

The flight was uneventful, but I was nervous about going through customs. But no problem. I took a taxi to my hotel, checked in (they spoke very good English), and went to my room. I eagerly unpacked, and wanted to get right down to business. It was Saturday, I didn't have to see the customer until Monday. I had a day to adjust to the time zone. I would do so in feminine attire.

 

* * *

 

Four hours later, I was all made up. It came out so good! I smiled as I looked at myself in the mirror. I felt like every time I did it, I was getting better and better. But I was really tired now. I sat down in the chair, turned the TV on, and ended up falling asleep for a nap.

 

* * *

 

I awoke to the sound of my door opening. In walked a man in a suit, and a policeman.

"Ma'am, the maid found you sleeping in Mr. Chamber's room, so we have called security. You were not on our video cameras entering the building. How did you break in?"

I was stunned, not knowing what to do or to say.

"That's not a woman" said the policeman. "Just look at him. He's all made up, like a girl."

"Is that true? Are you really Mr. Chambers?" said the man.

I weakly nodded. I was caught. I was found out.

The policeman shook his head.

"You should understand the laws of a country you are visiting" he said, putting me in handcuffs, and rudely pulling me out the door. I had to walk through the lobby not only in handcuffs, but dressed up like a woman! I was never so embarrassed in my life.

He pushed me into the police car, turned on the siren, and sped off into the darkness. My head was swimming, and I think I must have fainted.

 

* * *

 

When I awoke, I was still in the car. I had no idea how long I had been out for. Five minutes? Five hours? All I knew is that we were still driving.

"Where are we?" I said. "I want to speak to my consulate"

He did not respond, except with a menacing smile that sent chills up and down my spine.

About an hour later, we pulled up to a guard post, where military men with machine guns talked to the policeman, checked out his badge, then waved him on through. We drove another fifteen minutes, before we came to another building surrounded by barbed wire fences.

He pulled me out of the car, walked me down the path, past the guards, and into the building. Inside, I was sat down at a table and fingerprinted, while he filled out a form with one of the military men. I didn't understand their native language, so I had no idea what was going on.

Next, I was uncuffed, and led down a hall to a room. After waiting an hour, a doctor came in and examined me. I was poked, prodded, and blood drawn into sample bottles. After being bandaged, I was sent into another room, where I waited in a chair.

A lot of time passed, and I became bored after the fear wore off. I looked around, and there were some women's magazines on the table in the corner. I picked one up, and read through it as I waited.

A woman in a uniform walked into the room in a crisp, military fashion.

"You have been convicted. You will now face your punishment."

"Convicted for what? I never had a trial!" I said.

"This isn't your home country. We don't need one here to convict you. And just look at you! You cannot deny your guilt. And look at what you read. Women's fashion? You are no man. Now come with me."

I had no choice but to follow her. And what the hell did they convict me for? And why was she upset that I was reading a fashion magazine?

We walked down a long hall, and outside the building. Two guards with machine guns followed us as we went through the gate, and down a path. At the bottom of the hill, there was another gate which we were allowed to go through. I could see ahead a facility with tall brick wall, with razor wire at the top. It looked like a prison.

The heavy iron doors swung open after a guard barked out a command. We walked in, and I was just shaking. They led me into one of the buildings in the compound, and put me in a room alone again. I was being put in some kind of jail!

 

* * *

 

It seemed like an hour that I waited, but who knows how long it really was? Finally, a woman walked into the room. She was dressed modestly, but she was pretty. She looked out of place to me. I was expecting someone in uniform, or someone to punish me. But she looked like someone I could trust.

"Hi, I'm Eva" she said with a smile.

"I'm Mel...uh Melissa" I said, not wanting to use my male name.

"Welcome Karla. You will fit right in here" she said.

"What do you mean?"

"You'll learn soon enough. Actually, I'm here for your orientation."

"Orientation?"

"You'll be here the rest of your life, so they have one of us help you get your bearings at first. This will make it a lot easier on you."

"What is this place?"

"This is where they lock up undesirable elements."

"Like me?"

"Just like you. You see, crossdressing is a crime here. They want to root it out of society, so they lock up anyone they catch. There is no trail, no escape, no exception. They used to just put you to death, but now they are more 'enlightened'. But don't worry, you'll be comfortable here. They allow you to live out your fantasy. You just don't get to do it in public."

"I don't get it. Do you mean that everyone in this jail is a crossdresser?"

"Or a transsexual, in different phases."

"I don't belong here!"

"Honey, just look at you. You're just like the rest of them here."

"No!"

"And you had better get used to it. There is no parole, no escape."

"No! Please!"

"I'm just trying to help you. I'm just telling you the truth. If you want to do well here, you should listen to me. I'm going to tell you how things work around here, and what you can do to fit in."

"OK, I'm sorry. I'm just so upset with this all"

"I know it must be a shock to your system Melissa, but that's just how things are. Get used to it."

"I'll try" I said.

 

* * *

 

Karla showed me a map of the grounds, and explained what each building was. There were facilities for exercising. A building where classes were held; the more feminized women passed along their knowledge of makeup, dressing, how to move, how to do your hair and so forth, on to the newer arrivals. There was dorm style housing (sorority houses they called them), a mess hall where meals were served, and even a medical building."

"Your healthcare is all provided here, by law. You can even get female treatments, like laser hair removal, and hormones so you can grow your own set of real breasts."

"I'm not going on hormones!"

"Well let me tell you, a lot of the women here will try to pressure you to do it. Its your choice of course, but I would recommend it. You'll fit in better. And you have so many more fashion choices when you have breasts. With falsies like yours, you can't wear bikini at the pool. You can't wear anything revealing. You should get real breasts."

"I can't."

"Because you're a man, and you're afraid that people will see you? Everybody here is just like you. You're never going out in 'public' again. Get used to it. And think about the hormones. Believe me, you'll be much happier if you decide to go on them."

"I'll think about it, but I just can't do that."

"All right, your choice. Anyway, it's hard for you to just jump right into life here, so you're going to live here in this building for a few days. I'll show you the ropes some more, and after you're adjusted enough, you'll get your room out with the general population."

"Thank you so much Karla. You are so kind."

"No problem. That's what I'm here for, to help you."

 

* * *

 

"So I was wondering" I said, "won't they be suspicious about me disappearing?"

"I've seen this before. They'll tell the press that you were kidnapped by the rebel group. They funny thing is, your government then gives this government aid money to track down the rebels. But nobody here has actually seen a rebel. We think they make it all up to blame things like drugs on, and to get foreign aid. So you'll be remembered when your country sends a check to the people running this place."

"That's terrible!" I said.

"But there is nothing you can do about it my dear, you're stuck here now."

She walked me to a room where I was to sleep for the night. It was a simple room, not quite like a prison, but not plush either.

"A few more things before you go to bed. First of all, lose that wig. You're not allowed to wear one here."

"But my hair.."

"Yes I know. Well get it cut tomorrow, then I'll teach you how to use hairspray and make it look better. You can let it grow out. You have years and years."

That made me feel helpless. Years and years.

"Tomorrow we can also go get your ears pierced. And if you decide on the breasts, we'll get you some hormones to start off with. Have a good sleep, see you in the morning!" she said, trying to sound cheerful. I was anything *but*.

"And one last thing: don't ever try to look like a man. If they catch you, you are in deep trouble. The last one who did it, well, we never saw her again. Just stay female. Don't even think of looking or acting like a man."

 

* * *

 

An alarm woke me at 7:30am. I showered, shaved my legs, and put on my clothes. I really needed a change of clothes though, it had been a couple of days. I had never worn a bra for two straight days before, and it was irritating me now. I would ask Karla to help me get one that fit better. I had just bought this one online, I had never been properly fitted for one.

It is difficult to explain how I felt that day. On the one hand, I was trapped in a prison in a foreign country, with no hope of escape or being released. But on the other hand, I had a chance to live out a fantasy I'd always had, being a woman. But by being forced to do it, there was also the fear and the dread. But I decided to make the best of it. What choice did I have?

"Good morning, sunshine!" said Karla, trying to cheer me up again.

"Good morning yourself" I said.

"Did you decide on the hormones? They're anxious to get you started."

"No, I don't want that."

"Oh well, your loss. Let's go get that hair worked on. You need help!"

"And I need new clothes. These are getting too dirty. And I need a better bra. This one is digging in and making me sore."

"After we get your hair done, we'll go get you some new clothes for your wardrobe. And you need your ID card today too. Then your ear piercing, and your first laser hair removal treatment."

"Sounds more like a spa than a prison."

"Well actually, we do have a spa. There is a state run school a few miles away. They send the girls here to practice on us. If they can make us look good, think of what they can do to real women."

"Hold it!" I said. "You're not a real woman?"

"Of course not. I'm here, just like you. I've just been around long enough that you can't tell too much of a difference anymore."

"And so all the women I've seen here are..."

"The guards are real women. They don't let any men in here. But they pretty much let us run the place ourselves. They give us what we need to be happy here. Be glad its not the old days when you would have just been shot."

"I'm certainly thankful for that!" I said.

"Good. Now let's get going. You have a very busy day ahead of you..."

 

* * *

 

The first week just seemed to fly by. There was always something I needed to get done. There would be many more laser treatments before I would stop having to shave my face and my chest, but they were making good progress. I was getting used to wearing a bra, now that I had one which was better fitted. And better shoes that weren't so small, and didn't hurt my feet. I had a couple of outfits, and a full makeup kit in my room now. And essentials like panties, hose, accessories, and stuff. I was even starting to get used to my earrings.

At first few days were total excitement, but by now, wearing a skirt was losing its novelty. It was becoming 'normal' to wear one, and no longer made me aroused. The same for the bra; normally it got my heart pumping to get to wear one. But now it was not only an 'every day' thing to do, it was actually required. Unless I had my own breasts. Which I wasn't about to do! I just could not picture myself taking female hormones, no matter how much they prodded me about it. The few other girls I had met here looked at me funny.

"You're not taking hormones? Why?" asked one, as if *I* was the abnormal one.

At the end of the week, Karla said that I was ready to move into the general population, and move into a sorority house. I packed my things, and she helped me move in to my new place. It was a single room in a building with twenty other 'women' like me. They were in various stages of feminization. Some were obviously men in dresses. Others could have almost passed for women. I wondered how I looked to them.

But they were all warm and friendly. They explained that there were a dozen other sororities, and each one was assigned to particular jobs at the compound, rotating every month. This month, we were all on kitchen duty, so I would soon be putting on the apron and peeling potatoes.

I met a lot of them individually. I was sitting outside with Wendy, who was explaining a few things to me. Suddenly, she got quiet, and started to whisper in my ear.

"Don't trust Karla. She's one of *them*. They're trying to reprogram our minds. Don't give in, whatever you do! The spa! They're trying to make us become...."

She looked up to see someone approaching.

"....and so that's why you need to make sure you're in by curfew" she said loudly. She shot a nervous glance over to the group of women who were walking by.

"I never told you this. We never had this conversation!" she whispered, then turned and walked away nervously.

Karla was one of them? One of who? What did she mean that were reprogramming us. Who was doing it? Reprogramming to what? I was upset and confused.

Karla was so nice! She was helping me. How could Wendy say that she was doing anything to hurt us? I was going to go talk to Karla and straighten this whole thing out. I met her as she took me to the spa for my first session there.

"You only get to go to the spa three days a week. You'll find your schedule posted in the mess hall every Monday morning. Most of us wish we could go there every day! But you will enjoy this."

"Before I go, there's something I need to tell you" I said.

"What's that?" asked Karla.

"It's this one girl I met named Wendy. She said some things about you....that you're 'one of them' and that I shouldn't trust you. I don't understand. You've been so nice to me! What does she mean?"

"Oh, she's just jealous. I've been here a long time, and I know all the guards, so I get treated pretty good. She's newer, and is still waiting for her operation. She's just blowing off steam. Once she gets 'clipped', she'll be happier. You'll come to learn that many girls can be petty, and like to gossip. I hope you don't turn out that way. You seem very nice too."

"Thanks!" I said, blushing as she led me by the hand into the spa. A pretty young girl was waiting for me by the chair.

"I'll see you in an hour!" said Karla, as she left and closed the door.

"Hi Melissa. I'm Amy. I'll be working on you today. We're going to start with a message, then a facial and eyebrow wax. Just sit back and relax. You're going to enjoy this..."

Soothing music played, and I closed my eyes, letting out small moans of pleasure from the calming feeling of the massage she started to give me...

 

* * *

 

An hour later, Karla was waiting for me when I walked out the door.

"So, how was it?" she asked.

"It was heaven!" I said. "The time just flew by. I can't believe it was an hour. I was relaxing and listening to her talk. The massage was so wonderful! It seemed like next thing I knew, time was up."

"Yes, its always like that. I'd love to stay there all day if I could" she said.

"Me too! And I'd do it 7 days a week if I could!"

"I'll see if I can sneak in an extra session for you some time. You know, get Wendy all mad at me for having inside connections."

We smiled at each other.

"But you know what the best thing was?" I asked.

"No, tell me"

"I feel so much more...pretty and feminine after doing it. Maybe it was because they waxed my eyebrows, and the facial made my skin so much softer and nicer. But I've never felt this pretty before."

"That's why natural born women enjoy the spa too" she said. "It makes *them* feel pretty and feminine. So that just goes to show that you're fitting right in. I think you were really meant to be a woman."

I smiled. What a nice complement!

 

* * *

 

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. I was beginning to lose track of how long I had been at this place. But now it was just part of my normal existence. I really liked being able to dress up in pretty clothes, wear makeup, shoes, jewlery....all the things I had loved to do in secret, I could do now every day, in the open.

It was no fun being stuck inside four walls, and always knowing that you were being watched by guards. But I was learning so much! I felt like I was getting my walk down better now. And I was getting to be a pro at putting on makeup. I felt prettier more and more as time passed.

The best part of the week though was getting into the spa. I couldn't get enough of it! I loved getting manicures and pedicures. I loved the massages. I loved the facials. I just couldn't get enough!

 

* * *

 

One day I was putting on my clothes in the morning. I looked at myself in the mirror as I put my falsies into my bra. I looked at myself in the mirror, with my fake breasts protruding in front of me. I hated how the bra would shift around and pull up during the day. If I had real breasts, it would hold in place. And I wouldn't have to go through putting these things in every day, pulling them out at night, washing them, and all the extra work I had to do. But more than that, my body, my chest was so...unfeminine. It just wasn't right.

It was at that moment that I realized what was wrong. I needed to have breasts. Real ones, of my own. How could I go around like I was? I felt ashamed. What kind of woman was I with a flat chest? I felt so...inadequate. I looked at the other girls down the hall. They all had nice full bosoms, and could wear tops that showed off their cleavage. I was stuck wearing high necks, because I couldn't let anyone get a glimpse of my falsies. I just felt like crying.

After breakfast, I tracked down Karla. I hadn't been spending as much time with her lately, now that I was more able to make it on my own. But she was my best friend there, and I went to her whenever I had questions or needed advise.

I explained my situation to her.

"So you see, I really want to have breasts. I feel so depressed! I want to be feminine, but how can I be without them?"

"Having breasts doesn't make you feminine" she insisted. "Think about women who have breast cancer, and need to have them removed. Are they not women?"

"I guess not" I said.

"No, they are as much a woman without them as they are with. But I understand. You are adjusting to your new body image, and you feel a need to meet it."

I nodded.

"Well Melissa, they won't pay for implants here. That would be asking too much! But we can go get you started on female hormones. It won't be a sudden thing, but over time, you'll grow real breasts, just like a real woman does."

"Yes!" I said. "I need that. Where do I go?"

She took me by the hand to the medical building, where I waited in line until it was my turn. I went in, and told the woman doctor my problem.

"I'm writing a script for female hormones. Take three of these a day, with meals until we determine the proper estrogen level in your body. Also, rub this cream onto your breasts every night. It will help them to grow. Finally, this red pill is an accelerant. Take this once a day, and it will help speed up the process. Don't worry honey, in time, you'll get your breasts."

"Oh thank you doctor! I *so* much want to have boobs. I wish I could have them now!"

"I understand dear. Just take your pills, put on your cream, and in time, you'll have your wish."

 

* * *

 

Every day, I would look in the mirror, hoping to see some improvement. But for the longest time, there was nothing. But one day, it looked to me like there was just a little bit of swelling. Was it my imagination? I don't know, but I kept looking.

The change was so gradual that it was almost as if one day I looked, and there they were: breasts beginning to bud and swell on my chest! I had dreams at night of waking up with full D cups, but I'd wake up to my tiny ones. But at least it was progress!

One day that my bra was too tight on me with my falsies. My real breasts were swelling enough that there wasn't room in the bra for the falsies too! I was *so* excited. I went to get an A cup bra, and threw my falsies into the trash. I was a real girl now, with breasts of my own.

 

* * *

 

I had lost track of time. Was I here a year? Six months? Two years? I didn't really know, but it didn't really matter. I was actually enjoying my life now. My laser hair treatments were complete, and I didn't have to shave my face or chest anymore. My breasts were getting fuller and larger. I was up to a B cup, and I could feel my bra starting to get tight. I was so excited that I'd be moving up to a C cup soon.

And then there was my hair. It was getting longer all the time. I was using an herbal shampoo that was supposed to stimulate the scalp into growing hair faster. It was getting down to almost shoulder length, and I was happy that there was so much more I could do with it now. I wanted it to get about another six inches longer though. That would be ideal for me.

When I went to the spa, they were doing some special treatments on me to help me with my face. It was starting to look more feminine now. The special medicine they gave me at the infirmary for my Adam's apple was also working; it was getting less and less noticeable. At this rate, I'd soon have a very feminine face.

 

* * *

 

There were always so many girls coming and going that I sometimes felt lost. Other than Karla, I really didn't have any real friends. I never saw that Wendy again, but there were so many girls here, how could you tell? I wondered why I didn't have any close friends in my sorority, but it didn't really bother me. I had too much to do to think about that.

On the day I got my D cup bra, I had to find Karla to show off my new sundress with the low v-neck that let you see my glorious cleavage. I found her reading a Jane Austin book, under a tree in the main lawn area.

"Karla, notice anything different today?"

"Why Melissa! Look at you! You've got bangs now! What a cute haircut."

"Oh Karla, only a real girl would see that. No, I meant this" I said, jutting out my chest so that even she would see it.

"And you've got cleavage! Wow. I remember back when you were flat chested."

"It seems like a dream. I can hardly remember that time. It almost feels like I've been this way for a long time..."

"I told you that this is what you were meant to be."

"You're right. I was meant to be this. That's why I wanted to tell you. I'm going to do it."

"Do it?" she said curiously.

"I'm going to sign up for the operation. I'm going to have them cut it off, and make me a real woman."

Karla just gave me a blank stare.

"What to you mean?" she said.

"I'm going to tell them to operate on me. Cut it off. Clip me. You know..."

"I don't understand Melissa. You had that done months ago."

I was stunned. Months ago? No way! But I felt down between my legs, and oh my god! It was gone! I *was* a woman. How could I not know this? I felt dizzy, and had to sit down.

"When....how...." I stammered.

"You were operated on months ago. You've been a woman for quite some time. Don't you remember?"

"No" I said weakly. "I....my mind...."

"Melissa, come with me" she said, and walked with me hand in hand to the building I had lived in when I had first arrived. We sat down at a table. A woman in a business suit sat down with us.

"When you first arrived here, you resisted the idea of going on female hormones, and growing your own real breasts. But now, they're your pride and joy. Can you explain this?" she said.

"I don't know. I don't remember..." I said.

"And you had your sex change operation months ago, but you didn't even notice" said Karla. "How is that possible?"

"I....I..." I started to cry. I was *so* upset.

"I can explain" said the woman.

I looked up, wiping off the tears. I hoped I hadn't ruined my makeup.

"Mind control" she said.

It took a few seconds to register.

"From when you first arrived here, you were bombarded with chemicals. They are in the food you eat, the water you drink, the perfume you wear. We apply a mist to your pillow that makes you enter a deep sleep, so we can do things to you at night. You don't even here the constantly playing tapes, giving you subliminal messages."

"We apply so many things to your body, from when you first enter here, that you had no chance" said the other woman. "They bring slight, subtle changes, which require a long time. But we have a secret weapon. Something which works much faster. Something that makes you turn into a woman. Something that makes you *want* to be a woman."

"Its the spa" said Karla. "When you're there, we apply our most advanced mind control techniques, to erase you, and implant your new personality. Your new desires, like your desire for breasts. Or for men. Just like Wendy warned you. We had to remove her. She was a danger to us, knowing what she did."

"But you never really noticed, did you?" said the woman. "We fixed your mind so that it wouldn't be an issue for you either."

"From the first time you entered the spa, we began to alter your mind. To mold it, shape it, feminize it, control it, make it what we want it to be."

"My mind?" I said.

"Well, it's not really yours anymore. Its more *ours* than yours. You don't even really know who you are anymore, do you?"

"Of course I do! I'm Melissa!" I said. Duh!

"Who were you before you came here?" asked Karla.

"I've *always* been Melissa. What's wrong with you?" I asked. How could I be someone else?

"what if you were a man?" asked the woman.

"A man? Ew! That's sick."

They looked at each other.

"You don't want to be a man. But what about sex with a man?"

"I'm a woman" I said. "Of course I want sex with a man, but you deny us that pleasure here."

They smiled.

"And of course, you have your problem" said the woman.

"Your nymphomania" added Karla helpfully.

"You have a constant need for sex, don't you? You want it one man after the other. You'd love to do it 24 hours a day, and beg for more!"

"Yes!" I said. "But you don't allow men here. Its driving me crazy!"

"What if we could fix all that for you?" asked the woman.

"How?" I said.

"We'll take you to a place where you can have all the sex you want. All day, every day. Men will pay for you, and line up like cattle. If you want to, you can work 20 hours a day. Its all up to you."

"Really?" I said excitedly. The thought of having constant sex aroused me so much!

Karla smiled.

"Melissa, I hate to see a woman like you held back. Sign here, and we'll release you to your new Madam. She'll take you to her brothel, where you can start right away."

"Oh thank you so much!" I said, now crying tears of joy. "You are making my dream come true!" I said, signing the papers.

"You see, while you were at the spa, we used several techniques to alter your mind. That's why it seemed to fly by: you weren't aware for most of it. And when you left, your new feminine thoughts were dominant in your mind. You *wanted* to become what you are now. You just had to. That's what we put into your mind. We made you an empty-minded nymphomaniac woman."

I looked up at her. I didn't understand what she was saying.

"Look, I can't understand all that technical mumbo-jumbo" I said. "You sound like a man talking all about technology and stuff. Oh, by the way, I like your lipstick shade. That one is new for you isn't it? Is that Lancome?"

The two women turned to each other and laughed.

Karla smiled at me, hugged me, and gave me a kiss on the cheek for good luck.

"Goodbye Melissa." she said.

"Goodbye Karla. Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome dear. I'm afraid that soon you'll forget me too though. Your mind has been reprogrammed to forget people quickly. Soon, all you'll know is constant sex, and the lust for more and more. Your female sex drive is all that will fill your mind. As soon as the first man enters you, all this will be a blur too. So I can tell you that it has been a joy molding you into the sex slave that you are now."

I smiled. I didn't understand what she was saying, but it sounded so sweet. I could only think of all the sex I was about to have!

"You are the ideal sex kitten. You have no mind, and have been molded into what we want you to be. You've made yourself into the image of your desires when you were a male, so part of you knows what men really want. You don't have ovaries, so you don't get pregnant. You don't have periods, so you can work every day. And you are not even a person as far as the world is concerned. They think you're dead. So we can keep all the money you earn, giving you just enough to eat, and new clothes to wear. What do you think of all that?"

"When can I start?" I said. This talking was boring. I was eager to get going! I needed to make love, and couldn't bear to wait any longer.

 

* * *

 

(three months later)

 

I washed myself up down there, and wiped off the wet spot on the bed. I hated having to put some clothes back on, but for some reason the men seemed to like it better if I stripped, rather than starting naked.

I sprayed on a little more perfume, fixed my makeup, and pushed the button to let them know that I was ready for the next customer. I had worked the last twelve hours, but I felt more of a need to make love, then I did for food. I sometimes wished that they could just line up, so I wouldn't have to even get off my back. Get on off, and let the next one mount me.

But that was just a silly fantasy. I had to settle for having only three or four times per hour. Some of my customers could last longer than others. I liked making them come quickly, but unfortunately, they liked it better if I stretched it out longer. Then they'd come back again and again. So I had to put off some short term gratification, in order to get more customers every day.

The doorknob started to turn. I stepped into my heels, smiled, and looked him in the eye. Soon he'd be inside me, and I'd be in heaven.

"Ooh!" I said as he put his hand on my large breast. "You like these, don't you? Come to mommy!"

 

* * *

Author's note:

I want readers to know that in no way do I condone Melissa's "profession" for a woman. It is degrading, dangerous, and should not be tolerated in a civilized society. However, for a man who has been turned into a woman against his wishes, it makes a lovely career. With all the ills men have imposed on women over the course of history, it seems like poetic justice for force-feminized men to become the ones who fill the brothels, instead of real women...

  

  

  

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