Yes, it’s a new series, fans of mine. I know you like Marilyn, but she’s on hiatus. Deal. Anyway, I do have something interesting for you. It’s an unusual tale, but then again, my writing tastes have proven to be a bit unusual. I’m about as mainstream as N’Sync is underground. So without further ado, let’s get started. Oh, and yadda yadda yadda over 18 to read yadda yadda yadda read only if legal where you are blah blah blah.
Healthy Behavior by: Brett Lynn
"Uhh…is Mr. Stanford around?"
"One moment dear…ooh, damn heels. Makes it impossible to walk through doorways.
Here I am ma’am. So, did the maid get you here alright? Hello? Earth to…"
"I can’t believe this…"
"Oh, the heels? Yeah, it is kinda stupid to wear 6 inch heels with a 3 inch platform when you’re my height. I’m almost as tall as Shaquille O’Neal like this."
"No…I meant…th-that!!!"
"Ah, I get your message. This l’il pink spandex number isn’t my style, but you wouldn’t get the hint of my, er, changes is I walked up to you wearing a hoodie, some baggy jeans and some Tims right? You can definitely SEE my changes with this, right?"
"How big are they? I mean.."
"I know. It’s not exactly normal to see someone born a guy with hooters this big. These, my friend, are courtesy of the Dow Corning corporation. 40DDD if you’re thinking about that. Small enough that I don’t look like a cartoon version of a woman, like those big tits strippers you see around, but big enough that not only can they make me look feminine, but I can still hit the gym hard without looking too much like the androgyne I am. There are some other changes I might show ya if you’re willing. Wanna have a seat? Besides, these heels aren’t exactly made for comfort."
"Sure, no prob…er, what should I call you?"
"You can call me Miss K if ya want. That’s how I’m known in the world nowadays. The name ‘Mr. Stanford’ is OK too. After all, that’s how my money managers know me as still. So what mag are you from again?"
"Wired. They sent me out here to do a profile on you."
"Ah yes, the sweet joys of the tech world press. What’s the deal with it?"
"Well, Mr. Stanford, you did disappear under, shall I say, unusual circumstances. It was enough to get the feds to investigate you on that stock."
"Eh. It’s understandable. With the money I got out with, I’d be suspicious if I were them. But anyway, how long are you assigned out here for?"
"Couple days. I’m probably gonna get a cover story out of this. Why do you ask?"
"Oh nothing. Just wanna make sure you get enough time to get everything, plus have a bit of fun. So, shall we get started?"
"Sure. Lemme fish the tape recorder out my purse."
"OK. Tell me when to start."
"Alright. First, tell me a bit about your background, sir, er, ma’am, er…"
Well, this is gonna be an interesting one. Let me cut right to the chase. The name’s Khalil Allen Stanford, or at least that’s what the Feds call me. I was born in Brooklyn January 25, 1972. Came up through the public school system, a proud product of Bed-Stuy, and did well enough on the placement test to get into Brooklyn Tech. You could say I’m somewhat special, though not particularly so. After all, if you root around enough neighborhoods in town, you could find a few thousand kids like me. As for childhood, it was NYC standard issue…playing ball, listening to hip-hop mix tapes, chasing tail on the subway, the usual. Simply put, I wasn’t one of those guys who rooted around their mama’s draw looking for frilly things to wear. I’m about as atypical as they come when it comes to that.
Now here’s the part you’ve been waiting for ma’am. After scoring perfect on my math SAT, and going 1560 overall, I had my choice of schools. Harvard, Yale, you name it. However, I chose Stanford. It had a pretty sweet CS department, and it was on the West Coast. The fact that Stanford threw at me a scholarship with so much money that it’s probably illegal in a dozen states didn’t hurt either. So I went to Stanford, class of 1994. Yes, THE class of 1994. Yahoo, Excite, LinkExchange, yadda yadda yadda, blah blah blah. Oh and the Stanford name? Who knows? Maybe the founder owned my ancestors in the Caribbean. Whatever.
So I settled down out there, came back east for the major breaks and in the interim became the best damn Perl hacker anyone wearing Cardinal has ever seen. I became very famous in the CS department for my skills. The fame led to me doing some consulting work for Yahoo and Excite during my senior year and right after graduation. In fact, you know that when you visit Yahoo, you call up my script? Sure, it’s been tweaked around the edges since I got started on it, but it’s still pretty much my baby.
Anyway, after doing some semi-regular work with Yahoo, and some nickel and dime consulting with Netscape and eBay, the dot-com boom on the stock market began. As a token for my work, I was awarded boatloads of stock. How much stock? Well, put it this way. In the span of a few months, I became wealthy enough to vote Republican. And the riches got bigger and bigger. After a while, I just stopped working and bullshitted now and again to CNBC. What difference do my words on that channel make anyway? I could say bullshit selling would be the future of the ‘net economy’ and venture capitalists would throw 8 figures at bullshit.com. Who cares.
But let me get to the big story before we start talking about what I know you wanna talk about. I know you can’t stop staring at my tits. You’re curious about my tits, huh? And my big juicy nipples…mmm, let me play with them for a bit. I need the endorphin rush before I talk about that bullshit. Oh, that feels so nice. Let me pull on them a bit…mmm, ooo, there we go. Ah, now my nipples are all hard. I can’t put them back in my dress. Mind if I keep my tits out? We’re all girls here…well, at least I look like one. Hehehe.
Thanks.
Anyway, on to that big SEC investigation. Around the time I sold all those stocks, I was getting sick of the whole dot-com business. After all, I was richer than a pharoah before the age of 30. Why the fuck should I have kept working? So that fateful day in late February 2000, I told my broker to dump everything. EVERYTHING. I know the market dipped a bit on the strength of my shares. Who knew that I was the needle that was to break the dot-com bubble on NASDAQ? A couple weeks after the big dump, people finally started to ask for real profits from dot-com companies, and it just went from there. I understand the whole SEC thing. I mean, think it. The fact that I cashed out to the tune of 9 figures right before a stock market crash looks shady to anyone with two working eyes. But what can you do? After all, the law is the law, and they can lay the smackdown on whoever they want. I have no ill will towards them. It was just incredible timing.
So after that whole mess, I put 100 mill a piece on AT&T and GM. After all, they make the most money on porn…they’ll never go broke. As for the difference, it’s nice and comfy all over the planet. Which leads to the beautiful puppies you see before ya and the make-up and the whole nine. Ooooh, lemme get started on that story before I come sitting here.
You see, I’ve always thought about chicks with dicks, especially being a chick with a dick fucking another regular chick. I dunno why, but I have. It seems that from the time I started getting into girls and all that, the idea of a shemale fucking a female has been there. It wasn’t to the exclusion of everything else. I mean, I had my share of wet dreams featuring Kim Basinger or Janet Jackson or whatever chick who was the flavor of the month. It’s not like I didn’t date girls, though to typical geek success, or like one of the guys on talk shows who’ve always felt female. No knock to them, but it just wasn’t me.
"Now let me get this straight. I’m sitting here with a wealthy ex-dot-commer with his..er, her tits sticking out, looking like a Playboy model, yet you’re trying to tell me you don’t feel feminine?"
"Yes."
"This is a whopper. I gotta hear this story."
"This is unbelievable. I go for a cover story, and I end up with some worthy of Jerry Springer or the National Enquirer."
"Now that you mention it, that stage manager on the show was on the National Enquirer and is the main guy responsible for the mess we see today. Shall I continue?"
suck "Lemme hear this shit. I get paid either way."
"Thanks for the enthusiasm."
Well, the drive to this bod began with my time with Yahoo. By the time I got to them, I sublimated my weird sexual tastes and had gotten on with my middling dating life. Mack of the year, I wasn’t. Anyway, in my spare time, I got to wandering through the newsgroups. I read this one story about this voluptuous shemale being teased and tortured by these women. I think it was on some sort of femdom tip. Oh, lemme stop before I have to whip it out. The thought of that story has made sitting here like sitting on a tree root. Mmmm. Whew! Anyway, while that story wasn’t the best one I’ve ever read, it got me going into the shemale thing. As time went on, especially as I was getting to my days as insanely-rich Perl hacker and CNBC guest, I spent time looking for more and more shemale stuff. Most of the stuff I found were duds though. Seems that most of the shemale fans on the net are outright closetcases. I don’t see the turn-on in wanting to suck a dick, even if it’s attached to a feminine bod, but to each their own. Nevertheless, I found enough stuff to keep me going, and I stashed what I found like a packrat. You know, like anime, the story here and there and, if I got lucky, a movie showing a shemale and a female going at it. Yum.
Anyway, after I dumped everything and went through the SEC shit, I started to hit the stash hard. Then I got to thinking, well, let’s give it a shot. What do I got to loose? So I shaved off the beard I had, and removed every hair from the waist down, got dressed and walked into a plastic surgeon’s office I knew specialized in sex changes. I remember that day very well, especially that conversation after I stormed in…
"You’re making me into a shemale."
"WHAT? Security!!!"
"Listen, doc. Here’s the deal…and $10,000 to start talking. I want full-body electrolysis, breast implants, somewhere upwards of a D cup, some lipo to shape me and some silicon injections to give me an ass. Got that?"
"Hmmm…well, let’s see…"
"Here’s another $50,000 while you think. Come on, doc. Everything I’ve mentioned is worth what I’ve thrown on your desk so far."
"OK. I know you haven’t had hormone therapy. You look like a guy, that much is clear.
Plus the Standards of Care…oh. Well, that much can take care of the standards of care…"
"Here’s another $100,000 on top of that. If I’m counting correctly, that’s $360,000 on your desk. Come on. Help me out. I wanna do this. Plus I’m sickly right."
"Uh, you know that isn’t healthy. Speaking of which, those silicon injections are mighty dangerous. I don’t recommend…"
"You know what? Fuck it. Take all the rest of this money. One million dollars. Cold hard cash. Count it if you don’t believe me. It’ll buy you all the ethics in the world, plus a new Beemer."
"You know, this isn’t healthy. But since you are, er, aware of the risks…"
"Fuck healthy. I’m rich enough to buy the healthcare systems of half the world’s countries. So are you with me or not?"
"Ummm…ok. Let me make a few calls and make some arrangements. Can I have your number so I can contact you when things are ready?"
"Sure, no problem."
The next few months were quite interesting. I ended up having to pony up a few more thousand to go to Antigua to get the surgery done. The airfare was cheap, but the local police cost a few bucks. I was in constant pain, recovering from one surgery to another. But it worked out pretty nicely. Mmm…just thinking about the changes they made to me is getting me so hot. Fuck the rest of this story. Let me stand up.
You see these juicy lips? Mmm…those collagen injections sure did the trick. Anyway, you’ve seen these unnatural wonders on my chest. Or should I say natural. After all, these seem to fit so naturally on my body. And these nipples…lemme suck on one for a quick sec. Ohh, yes! Lemme stop that right now. Now is a perfect time to show ya the rest. Just lemme pull this down. Ah, here we go. See that toned l’il belly of mine? A product of a surgeon’s scalpel. It does look sexy in the right baby tee though. Now lemme get this dress over my hips with a tug and…there we go. See how wide my hips are now? Thank those silicon injections for that. If he stuffed another inch there, it would be too much, but this…this is perfect. I look so curvy now. Now let me step out of this dress. Here we go. I love the feel of my skin now. So silky to the touch. Wanna feel my leg. Mmmm, that feels so good! It seems like those nerves on my thighs are attached to my big dick. Now lemme turn around for ya. Surprised, eh? I know you expected a bulge, but it’s all back here. Yeah, I know that’s special, my snake throbbing for ya, but I wanna show off my ass. Heck, I paid for it, I should show it off, right? So perfectly squeezable every straight guy in America wants it, but this show is for women only. Ooh, I love to tease them with my body. I love the way my ass looks, especially when I’m fucking some girl. It looks so sexy and wild.
Oh, it looks like my snake is drooling, so lemme pull this out just…like..this and let it loose. Oh yeah, that feels so good. Lemme turn around so I can see that look on your face. Yeah, that’s so perfect. That looks makes me so HOT. The doctor threw this in for me as a surprise, since he knew what I wanted to be. Thanks to his work of art, I look like the perfect shemale pornstar. Yeah, 12 inches long, 9 inches around of pure chocolate thunder. Mmmm…I like to do that. It always makes me shiver. It’s more sensitive down there. Hmm. Now with that on my tip, maybe I should offer you a taste? Come on. Suck that off my finger. There you go. Lemme try some of that myself. Ah, that’s nice. It’s the perfect sing to let me know how turned ON I am…and I’m really horny, showing off my body for you.
Yeah, lemme stroke this gently, up and down, back and forth my big smooth shaft. Mmmm…yeah, that feels nice. I know you probably don’t wanna suck. Oooh Probably a contrast or conflict of interest or something. Hmm…I like to flick that little ridge. Maybe if you got a man, you need to try that. Oh yeah. That feels…so…good. Ah, yes! I see that playing with my nipple has got me dripping now. Can’t have that huh? And I love to play with my nipples so much. What is a hung girl to do? Hmmm…MAID!
What are you surprised?
I mean, I know I have some relationships, but there are certain, um, maintenance needs that my hired help can take care of too. I chose her not only for her ability to clean my house but also for her ability to clean my…er…pipe! Besides, I love how she can work those big all-natural tits, especially with that nipple to nipple contact. Oh there she is. Like her red hair hun? Oh, don’t worry about the interview. We’ll get back to that in one second….but first, let me be taken care offfffOOOOOoooh! Yeah, that’s nice there! Lemme sit down for this.
Now, just lick all around the tip there…yes, that’s good. Work that tongue all around my little tip while I pull on my nipples. Yeah, that’s the way to work it. Mmmm. It’s so fun to have a hot slut like you work my dick like that while I pull on my nipples. Yeah, that feels so nice. You know, you should try something like this if you ever get up the food chain at your job. It feels so nice to have someone servicing your private…oooo…parts while you’re playing with your sensitive nipples. It feels even nicer to suck on them. Mmm…slurp…yeah, you should definitely try this….mmmmm…slurp….mmmmMMMM!!! Yeah, that feels so good. I like it when you stroke that long red hair along my huge dick, teasing it with those scarlet tendrils…AAAHHH…that’s sensitive. OOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAYEAH!!! Work that shit your fucking worthless slut! You know your jobs to clean me, slut, right?
So why don’t you put that mouth to good use and spit shine my…special tool, OK?
Yeah, now you’re working it right. There ya go. Now lemme press your pretty head down just so you can reach those hard-to-reach spots on my balls and around my baseeeee…aaah! Yeah, work that throat. Mmm, that feels so nice the way you’re pulling my cock with throat, trying to milk me dry. Yeah, work that mouth up and down, work it in and out your slutty throat. Yeah, suck me dry you fucking slut. Oooh….yes! Pinch on my nipples. Pull on them some.
Ahh, that feels so incredible. Work that tongue…oh yeah! Faster, suck me harder! Oh GOD! YEAH, BABY! Do your fucking job and slob that knob…mmmhmmm…yeah! I’m almost there. Finish me…ah! Ah ah ah! OOHHHHHHH yes!!!
Ahhhahhhhaaahahhhhahh! Yeah! Milk that fucking cum from me. That feels so nice! Now slip it all the way out, and let me pump those last few drops onto your lips. There you go. Just a couple pumps. That’s good. Now you know what to do. Yeah, that’s good. Don’t forget to clean all the cum off the shaft. I know I have a knack of bubbling some onto there from your throat. Ahh.
Oh. There you are, my interviewer. Almost forgot about you with my little break there. Don’t sweat it. I know you’re shocked at the whole exchange. I can tell by the look in your eyes. Then again, this is standard interview behavior. Just like these…TITS…are standard on someone born a guy, or it’s standard for a girl with a surgically enhanced dick to be blown by her maid while someone interviewing them is watching in shock. And some perked-up nips if I’m seeing your shirt correctly. Funny. I thought I had the thermostat a bit on the high side on purpose, especially with what I was wearing.
So do you mind if we continue with the interview? Just let me pull my dress back over my tits. There we go. They’re a bitch to deal with if I wanna shoot some hoops. I have to get my maid Deb here to strap them down. But hey, they look nice. Plus I got someone to take care of me. Oh, thanks for the panties. Lemme slip these on lest I accidentally flash you more than I have already. So lemme know when we’re ready to get going again OK? Oh, the recorder’s been on all this time? Well, you’ve got some in-flight entertainment for a few days from now. Chuckle Let me go on.
Yeah, the surgery was kind of rough. At least I had a nice place to do it in…the Caribbean isle of Antigua. You gotta love the government down there. They’re about as honest as Ellen DeGeneres is straight. At least my cash got some bureaucrats some new Benzes.
Anyway, the stretched out the surgery that made me what I am today over three months. They got the easy stuff out of the way first, with one surgery a week. Initially, I got the collagen lip injections done, then the lipo I needed for my new shape. I was on enough codeine to make a good-sized town high to dull the pain. Remember that X-Files Simpsons episode where Mr. Burns is glowing in the dark and saying ‘I bring you peace’ due to all the drugs he was on? Well, that was me.
Then, the big stuff started happening. The electrolysis, the silicon injections around the hips, stuff like that. Not exactly a pleasurable process. At some point, I was thinking about snorting a few keys of coke, if for no other reason than a better painkiller. But those kind of addictions are, well, the means by which the well-to-do distribute their wealth to the poor masses. Cocaine is better than socialism. At least in that regard. And if you think that was painful, the surgery for my little…toys was a wreck. For the surgery, I was in a dream world playing beer pong with Babe Ruth against Mickey Mantle and Billy Martin. Or was that Thurman Munson. Anyway, that surgery took place around the end of my stay. I was immobilized for a week healing up. That’s when I noticed that huge pipe you just saw the hired help cleaning. Somewhere between the codeine fading me in and out of consciousness, I overheard the doctor saying that it was a gift for help me out with my dream. Then, I heard him say something to effect of ‘flaming fagot’. Or maybe I dreamt it. For his sake, I hope is the latter.
But I do remember the day I finally got to play with my new favorite toy…my body. There was this nurse there named Patti. Nice, old, grandmotherly type White woman. I hadn’t been too embarrassed by her. After all, she had been tending to my needs for the weeks since my breast surgery. Anyway, I remember the day that she came to take off the bandages. This was the day I was finally waiting for. I would finally get to see my body! Plus, the codeine buzz gets too disorienting after a while.
First, I remember the gentle way she pulled that gown up over my torso. I finally got to feel the touch of someone on my new body. It felt so sensual. I finally realized why women love foreplay so much. The sensation was so electric! Then, she took a pair of scissors and cut the bandages off my chest. I finally got to see my new breasts…and began my continued infatuation with them. They looked so perfect then! My nipples and areolas were still a bit swollen from the effect of stretching over the implants. They look the breasts of my dreams…literally. Floating perfectly on my chest, firm to the touch, super sensitive and big. When I first started touching them, I felt the direct line right to my dick. In fact, I felt a tug on the bandages down there.
I finally got the courage to ask, "What’s with the bandage down there?" My nurse Patti got down on her knees in front of me, then replied "ooh, just a gift from the doc that he decided to give you while he still had you under general anesthetia." Then, she gently pulled away at the bandages from my crotch and between my legs.
What I had seen first was my own personal wet dream. What I saw then was the wish of every red-blooded male on this planet.
To say it was huge is to say Bill Gates has a few bucks. One word: Wow!
What Patti was cleaning the lint off of from the bandages was unreal. What she had in her hands was bigger semi-hard that a lot of pornstars were erect. I was curious to see how big I was, and between the new found hotline between my breasts and my dick, plus the fact that no one had touched me down there for a few months, gave me a chance to answer that question. I just looked down and stared in awe.
"Should be about a foot long and as big around as the proverbial Coke can if the doc did his job right…and I see he has," Patti commented to bring me out my reverie.
"Remind me to that the good doctor," I remember shouting out. This was incredible. I was built, figuratively and literally, like a wet dream and I was loving every second of it. Then, I felt something warm and wet on my tip. I looked down, and it was Patti sucking on my tip, struggling to get her mouth around it. She pulled away from me when she noticed me looking down and said, "from the way you responded when I was trying to clean you off, it looks like you’re desperate for some attention. Don’t mind me. I used to do this sometimes when I was younger. Do you mind sonny? I mean ma’am? I mean.."
I just nodded my head in assent, and let the woman take care of business. It wasn’t the best blowjob I’ve gotten in my life. However, she was pretty good, and sensitive as I was, I’m surprised I lasted as long as I did. She gently pumped my shaft back and forth, while sucking on the first three inches of my dick. As she did it, a look not of lust but of caring shot up to my eyes. She did this little trick with her tongue along the ridge at my tip, and almost instantly I groaned out in orgasm. It felt so nice as it seemed I was pumping her mouth to overflowing with my seed, an ocean pouring out of my dick. She swallowed most of dutifully too. However, I had enough composure to tell her to stop swallowing.
When I finally finished ejaculating, I pulled her frail frame up from her knees. Of course, I thanked her for the service she performed. Then, I kissed her in gratitude. Hard. On the lips. With tongue. The last little bit of cum in her mouth, we shared back and forth as I caressed her mouth with my tongue. I even swallowed some of my own cum. Not a bad taste. Not great, but not horrible either. Then, I gave her a peck on the cheek and sent her on her way.
"OK. Mr. Stanford, with all due respect, you’re nuts."
"Whatever. I’m rich enough to do this. Besides, I’m not forcing this on anyone. I’m not hurting nobody."
"OK. This has got to be the weirdest story I’ve ever covered."
"Look, I gotta bounce in a bit. Gotta meet my girl. So shall I see you around 2ish tomorrow back here? Maybe we could finish up."
"Grrrr. OK."
"See ya!"
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