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Its All In the Mind
by Jennifer White
As she looked down at them man struggling against his bonds on the table, Jean took a deep breath. If it ever got out what she was doing here, it would be the end of her career. It was unethical, immoral and illegal. But there was one good point: it was *just*. It served him right, the pig.
She thought back to that day on campus when he had jumped her from behind as she walked back to her dorm. He would later claim that it was her tight miniskirt that *made* him do it, and that she must have wanted it, going out looking like that. Of course, that was an *animal* excuse, not something a civilized human would say. So in her eyes, he had lost his right to be treated like a person.
As she plunged the needle deep into his vein, and slowly injected the clear liquid, she thought of how he had pushed himself into her, holding her down. Just like the tight leather straps held him down now. A very just desert for him.
His lawyer at the trial had tried to make her out to be some kind of slut, and tried to make *him* the victim. Of all the nerve! At least she had chosen a good lawyer of her own, and he was convicted. Although he was sentenced to 10 to 15 years, he got out in just six, due to overcrowding, and "good behavior".
But Jean was willing to forgive him. That was until she read in the paper about several other attacks of young women, all bearing the same hallmarks as the attack on her. It was an ongoing process to get over the trauma of such an event, and now this brought the old feelings back to the forefront. She no longer felt safe, even in her own home.
The police paid lip service to stopping the attacks, but a third occurred, and Jean was just enraged. Somehow, Jason had gotten smarter, and left less evidence behind. They couldn't break his alibi that he was with his girlfriend, and they no longer considered him a suspect. But Jean knew that they were wrong.
As Jean watched Jason's eyes glaze over, she had set a trap for him, doubting that he would recognize her after all this time. Plus, it would be dark out, and she had the advantage of surprise. It took a few days of walking through the commons late at night, pretending to be tipsy. But sure enough, he took the bait, and tried to go after her.
But with some strong chemical assistance, she soon had him in a weak state, and it wasn't very much effort to get him back to her house. She had an attached garage, and he was laying down in his stupor, so nobody could have seen him arrive with her. If there were witnesses, she would claim that she gave him a ride home.
How he was hers. He laid there helpless before her, and it was time for her to start her difficult work.
* * *
Jean had studied to be a psychologist, and was on the cutting edge of regression therapy. In the proper hypnotic state, the doctor could take the patient back in time, to examine events critical in their lives. For those with deep scars, after finding the root of the problems, a properly trained doctor could help to reconstruct a more healthy image in their mind, helping the patient to grow a more healthy psyche.
In the case of sexual problems, Jean had learned one key fact: people tended to unconsciously try and relive their first sexual experience, again and again. Victims of abuse tend to grow up to be abusers themselves, for example. So as with any patient, she took Jason back in his mind to when he was a young man, and found out about his early sexual experiences.
It had been with a younger girl down the street, who at first had been very willing, but then wanted to back down at the last minute. Jason had wanted to finish what he started, and had to hold her down. The more she squirmed and protested, the more excited he got.
That was the pattern that was set firmly in his mind. The pattern that he was to repeat over and over. And now Jean was going to cure him.
With a normal patient, she would have worked with him to slightly alter the memory, to a healthy one where the girl had been open to his advances, making it a 'normal' encounter. She would have built up from there, a foundation of a healthy attitude.
Over time, with continuing sessions, he would begin to lose interest in control of a helpless partner, and would move on to a socially acceptable style.
But Jason was not a normal patient. It was not enough to cure him. No: he needed more than curing. He needed to be taught a lesson. She needed to do more than to change him for the better; she needed to change him so that *he* would experience the pain the she and the others had gone through.
"You're with Missy now, in her room. What does she do next?" said Jean.
"She takes off her dress" said Jason, in his trance.
"Then what do you do?"
"I take off my clothes" he replied."Good. And that what happens?"
"She says she wants to stop. She pushes me away. She says she's scared."
This was the moment. The critical point, which Jean needed to change in his mind.
"No Jason, she didn't. She took the dress, and handed it to you. Then she told you to put it on. You were scared, but you couldn't disobey her."
"No..." he said, denying it. A common first reaction.
"Think Jason! Don't you remember how exciting it felt to put on a dress for the first time? Don't you remember how she rewarded you for obeying her by kissing you?"
"She kissed me..." he mumbled. Patients in a trance were very susceptible to persuasion. That was why doctors needed to have such high ethics. Jean's suggestions were starting to sink in now.
"Missy made you wear the dress, and kissed you. She told you that you looked very pretty. And you *felt* pretty, didn't you?"
"I felt pretty" mumbled Jason.
"She started to call you 'Jill', and you like it, having a girl's name. When you wear a dress, you become Jill."
"...Jill..." said Jason.
"Yes Jason, you are Jill when you're a girl. You feel pretty, and you are obedient to women. It *excites* you to obey and serve them, because you want to be just like them. You wish that you were a real girl, just like Missy. Don't you wish you were a girl?"
Over the next three days, Jean put Jason through a dozen such sessions, to re-enforce the memories, and add new ones. She planted memories of follow-on sessions with Missy, and told him that he could only get excited now, when he wore panties and a bra. She told him how he was so jealous of women, and how he longed to have breasts like they did.
She planted firm memories in his head, but as with ones from such early incidents in a person's life, they wouldn't be in the forefront. They would be there, but he wouldn't really notice unless something made him think of those days specifically. He wouldn't even notice the change!
And the drug induced daze he had been in would make it impossible to know that he had been with Jean for these past few days. She put a bra and panties on him before dressing him, and helping him back into the car. She took him to the alley behind his apartment, and pushed him unceremoniously out of the seat. He would sleep it off next to the dumpster, and wake up in the morning to begin a new phase of his life.
* * *
Jason woke up with a pounding headache. He looked around and realized that he was behind his apartment. He went up the steps, opened the double lock with his key, and went in. He needed a drink. Or two.
After pouring himself a shot of Jack Daniels, he decided to take a shower. As he undressed, he was horrified to find out that he was wearing a bra under his shirt! He couldn't remember where he had been the last day, and didn't even realize that it had been a full *three* days since he could last remember.
He rushed to tear off the bra, but he was surprised to find that it *excited* him so much. He looked in the mirror, and saw the red lines still on his shoulders where the straps had been.
Jason undid his belt, then slid off his jeans. As he reached down to pull off his boxers, and jumped back when he discovered that he was wearing red silky panties. No! He would never to that! He ripped them off, and threw them into the trash can, along with the bra.
He took his shower, shaved, and got dressed. He decided to take out the garbage right away, to get rid of those *female* garments. But when he picked up the trash can and looked at them, he froze. He grew excited just looking at them. He took them, and stuffed them under his mattress where nobody would see them. His heart pounded. He could never let anyone know that he wore them. Or that he *liked* it.
He decided to go down to the bar, and get another drink to take this ugly incident off his mind.
At O'Leary's Pub, he ordered a beer. He looked around to scope out the chicks at the bar. A woman walked in, and sat down beside him.
"Hand me that ashtray?" she said.
Jason didn't smoke, and hated the smell of it. His first reaction was to tell her to buzz off. But as he saw her long hair and her ample bosom he found himself reaching over for the glass ashtray, and setting it beside her.
It gave him such a rush to do that for her. Why? What was so special about this one? She wasn't even particularly pretty. He glanced down at her breasts again, and he felt completely inadequate, with his flat chest.
"I wish I was like her" he thought.
What the hell? He had to get away from this chick. He stood up, and went to the men's room. When he came back, he scoped out an empty table, and sat there instead.
As Jason guzzled his beer, he wondered what the hell was wrong with him. Ever since his blackout, things had been strange. Like now: he was looking at the back of this chick sitting at the bar. He could clearly see the outline of her bra under her blouse, and it was turning him on to think about it. But not because it was on her; he was thinking of the feeling he got when *he* had worn one. He almost felt like going home to put it on now.
He looked to the door, and gaped as he saw this really hot red haired chick walk in. She wore a tight black leather miniskirt, boots up to her knees, and a tiny top that left her bellybutton exposed. As she walked to the bar, he could see part of a tattoo that ran down her back, the bottom disappearing under the miniskirt. That alone made him want to take it off her.
But he had to admit that he also wanted to take it off her for another reason: to wear it. He imagined himself feeling the tightness of the skirt around him, holding him in, flaring out at the sides. He imagined what it would feel like to be *surrounded* by a tight skirt.
As he stared at her skirt, it started to get closer and closer. She was coming towards him! He looked up and saw her breasts almost hanging out of her skimpy top.
"Hello there" she said.
"H...Hi" he replied. He wasn't nervous and shy around women normally! What was it about her that had him so scared now?
"Now tell me, honestly: what do you think of my skirt?"
"I...I want to wear it" he blurted out in a whisper, kicking himself for saying it. It made her grin from ear to ear though, and he knew that he couldn't refuse her anyway. Just looking into her eyes, he realized that he would do anything that she asked. He felt such a deep driving inner desire to please her!
"Finish your beer. Come with me" she said.
Jason gulped down the last of it, and followed her out the door. She motioned him to get into her car, which he quickly did.
"Now we have some privacy" she said. "So, you want to wear my skirt, do you?"
Jason looked down, but the word "yes" came out from his mouth.
"When you put on your bra and panties, what is your *female* name?" she said.
"Jill" he replied. The name was such a turn-on. But how could it be his name? He had a vague memory somewhere of using that name before. It was on the edge of his mind, but he couldn't quite recall. But he didn't have time to probe deep within; this woman wanted something from him now.
"Jill. Very feminine. You'll do nicely."
With that, she started the car, and sped off down the road.
Ten minutes later, the woman led Jason by the hand, into her house. It was very nicely decorated, with a strong feminine touch. Flowers in vases in every room, bright colors in the large framed prints of impressionistic artists on the walls, the furniture and the floor rugs coordinated, photos of girlfriend's babies in frames on the bookcase, and a million other touches that a *man* would never notice, but a woman would.
"Sit" she said. Jason quickly obeyed.
"I see that you are very obedient. That is excellent; I won't have to break you. It will be much less painless if you simply accept your new place in life. I am going to turn you into a woman. You are going to be Jill from now on. When I am done with you Jill, there won't be a trace of maleness within that pretty little head of yours."
Jason was stunned. Turn him into a woman? That sounded grotesque! It was shocking and horrifying. He wanted to get up and run away, but there were two problems. First of all; she had told him to sit, it he found it very hard to even think of disobeying her. And secondly, he had never gotten so hard before in all his life. He was aroused and excited. He looked up to her with eyes like a deer in the headlights, frozen, not knowing what to do.
Jason's transformation into Jill was about to begin.
* * *
An hour later, Jason found himself shivering in the cold, his body hair removed, the scented oils she had rubbed on wafting up to his nose, along with the foreign smell of the nail polish on the long fake fingernails she had applied with super glue. She was only allowing him to wear panties and a bra right now, and he held very still as she worked on painting his toenails. The cold gave him goose bumps, and the excitement of it all gave him shivers.
"Hold still Jill, you're as jittery as a little schoolgirl on her first date" she said, which didn't have a very calming effect on him.
Before showering, she had 'relieved' him by rubbing his manhood until he came on his pants. She then threw them out, saying that they were too dirty now. She ripped up his shirt too, and it soon joined his underwear, shoes and socks in the trash too.
She had stripped him down, and now she was starting to build him back up. But in a quite different image than before.
"Take off your panties, dear" she said. Jason pulled on the waistband, and let them slide to the floor. He stepped out of them, and stared at her, awaiting the next instruction.
She went into the closet for a moment, and emerged with something that looked very strange to Jason. It was made of some kind of rubber, and looked like the middle part of a woman. She held it up, to show that it was hollow inside, except for some tubes. It almost looked like a pair of shorts, but much thicker, and wide in the waist. And it had a pussy in front.
"Step in, and pull it up" she demanded. Jason pulled, but it got stuck. She joined in, pulling on the rear of it, and it progressed further. When it was a few inches from being in place, she went around to the front of him.
"Your urine goes out through this tube" she said, attaching it over his penis. It felt tight, but he realized that a tight seal would be needed to prevent leaking.
"The tube opens up here" she said, poking her finger into the slit in the front. "You sit down, and pee like a real girl."
Jason was too much in shock to even speak.
"This tube goes deep inside, allowing up to ten inches of penetration" she continued. She applied some sort of wet substance on the inside of the thing, and began pulling again. He joined in with her, and soon it was on all the way. She went around back, and he could feel a rush of air as she cut a slit in the back, to match his anatomy.
"Now you never need to take it off. And the permaglue will make sure that you *can't*, at least until I'm sure that you are my complete slave."
Jason looked as she motioned to a mirror. He just stared at his reflection.
"Now you look just like a real girl Jill. Get your panties back on now!"
He pulled them up, and marveled how they laid flat in the front now, with no more bulge under them. And they fit to his new curves, courtesy of the padding which made it look like he had wide hips and a rounded butt. Just like you'd want for....a skirt.
The redhead woman was smiling at him, as if she sensed what he was thinking. She went to the closet, and emerged with a black leather skirt. Jason almost grabbed it out of her hands, and pulled it on. It fit perfectly in the waist, but it was very tight. Just like hers. It was too high of a hemline for him to feel comfortable. People would be able to see up his skirt, if he didn't sit with his legs crossed. But that was probably the whole point.
Seeing himself in the skirt made him so excited, that he started to get hard. But the tube was so tight around his penis, that there was very little room for expansion. He felt like he was going to climax right then and there.
Now the woman handed over a pair of falsies, which Jason put into the bra without being asked or told. Boobs. His boobs. He had never felt so proud. He admired them under the tight little top she gave him.
But it was only after she put him into a wig of long brown hair, curled up at the ends, and completed his makeup, that he started to really feel feminine. The more she did to him, the calmer and happier he felt. He never felt so happy in all his life! He couldn't help but smile.
"Jill, we're going to the mall to buy you some shoes, and get your ears pierced. What do you say?"
"Thank you" he replied. He really meant it, from the bottom of his heart.
* * *
When they returned from the mall, Jason was downstairs practicing walking in high heels, while the woman went upstairs to change outfits. He realized that he didn't even know her name, but that didn't matter. She had released him, and he could be Jill now. He was so happy like this. He had truly found himself.
"I have to ask you something" he said, when she returned, wearing an oversized T-shirt and comfortable shorts. "What is your name?"
"You may call me Sarah" she replied.
"Sarah" he said, looking at her admiringly. Even in scruffy clothes, she exuded a female sexiness that eluded him. His shoulders were too broad, his chin the wrong shape, his nose too big. If only he could look like her some day!
"Now Jill" she said, "here is a list of your chores. You will arise each morning by 5:30am, and get started right away. You will work all day, stopping only for meals, potty breaks, and of course to watch Oprah or an occasional soap opera."
Jason looked down at the list.
Jill's Chores
-----------------
-cook breakfast
-make the beds
-do the dishes
-mop, vacuum, clean floors
-dust
-clean windows
-weed garden
-buy groceries
-prepare dinner
-serve guests
-clean up after meals
-wash, dry, fold, iron laundry
And that was just the first page! Jason realized that he was about to become Sarah's full time maid. The schedule was full enough to fill every day, and more. He looked up at her.
"With every job you do, you will please me. And the more you please me, the more I will allow you become feminine. And the more that you will become mine."
She could see from Jason's puppy dog eyes that there would be no argument.
"Here are the rules" she said. "When you work at home, you will wear a maid's uniform. For special occasions, such as when I entertain guests, you can wear the sexy one with the fishnet stockings."
Jason nodded his head.
"You can dress up in sexy clothes when we go out, or when you please me enough that I decide to allow to do it."
"What will we do when we go out?"
"The usual. Dance. Pick up guys. Party. You know, a girl's night out."
Jason looked even more stunned, if that was even possible now. Sarah motioned to follow her into another room down the hall.
"This is your room. Go change into one of your maid's uniforms, and get right to work. Its still light out, so you should start on the weeding first. Don't forget the flower beds out front! And trim to bushes too while you're at it. Then you can start dusting upstairs after sunset."
"Yes Ma'am" said Jason. Having her boss him around like that really excited him. He was eager to please her, and set out to change outfits so that he could get right to work.
"Oh and Jill, I have one other task for you. Work on forgetting your old male name, and start thinking of yourself as 'Jill' all the time. And think of yourself as a girl from now on too."
"Got it" replied Jill, as she pulled a gray uniform off the hanger, and held it up to her body to see what it would look like when she put it on.
* * *
As Sarah talked on the phone, the steady sound of clippers working on the hedge could be heard coming in the window from outside.
"Oh Jean, he was even better than you said he would be! I picked him up at the bar, just like you said to. He's so obedient, and such a sissy. I didn't even have to use any threats to get him into his outfit. He just happily went along."
"And you've isolated him from contact with others, and given him a stringent program, so that he will spend all of his time doing tasks to please you?"
"Yes. I have a full time live-in maid now."
"Excellent. Remember that he *wants* you to keep increasing his workload. If you let up, he will feel disappointed."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes I am. In a case like his, the only chance he has for happiness is for someone like you to take over and dominate his life, while you help him become more and more of a woman."
"I just can't believe that you would help me like this. Other doctor's I've gone to have tried to change me to be 'normal'. But you let me live out my fantasies with him!"
"Why not? You're happy, and he's happy. As long as nobody is hurt, what is wrong with two people being happy?"
"Nothing I guess" replied Sarah. "But tell me, how far should I go with him? I mean in terms of turning him into a woman?"
"As far as you'd like. The more you do, the more he will like it. I would also recommend using a strap-on soon, and penetrating him daily. Set the tone for his new place in the world."
"And when will he progress so far that he'll really be a woman?"
"When he starts to feel jealous that you're dating a guy, and he's not. You can let him go too, if you'd like."
"One last thing. What if I make him take estrogen? I've always wanted to make a man do that."
"Then he'll grow boobs. When you grew boobs, was that bad?"
"No, it was great. I loved it."
"Then he'll love it too. Or should I say she?" said Jean.
The two women laughed together. There would soon be one more woman to join their ranks...
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