The Joining II

by Jennifer White

 

It was amazing how I had just turned a good thing, a real negative, into a positive. I thought it was the best thing I had ever come across in my life. But maybe I had better back up a little bit, and explain things. You see, ever since I was a boy, I loved women's clothes. I would wear things I stole from my sister's room, or even my mothers. My sister's bras felt nice and tight on me, but when I stuffed my mother's larger bras full, I loved how I looked.

And so when I moved out on my own, naturally I started shopping online, and I built up quite a collection of pretty things, frilly things, lacy things, bras, panties....even high heel shoes in my size, dresses, a wig, makeup, the works! I would close all the blinds, dress up, and pretend to be a woman.

But it was a strange conflict in my mind, in that while I loved to dress and act as a woman, I loved to pretend I was a girl, and I wanted to really *be* one, at the same time I was only attracted to women. Even in full dress, with makeup, perfume, a wig and high heels on, I felt absolutely no attraction to men, and this was somewhat annoying to me. I was a woman trapped in a man's body....who only wanted women. So the object of my desire, was also my ideal body image. I decided that I was really a lesbian. Nothing turned me on more than to see a lesbo film, or images off the internet.

Among my friends, most of them were female. I had a few guy friends, but I didn't get along with them as well as I did with the girls. I was more like them inside I guess, and I would rather spend my time in female company any time, over being with a bunch of loud, obnoxious men.

I had several girlfriends, but nothing ever worked out for me. I always got told "you are very nice, but..." or "I'd love to still have you as a friend." That soft of thing. I did stay friends with some of them, but I got a very uncomfortable feeling when I'd go out with them. For example, after Shiela left me, we met for dinner once, and she brought her new boyfriend. He had has hands all over her, and I still looked at her as someone I wanted to be with, someone I really cared for, and even someone I wanted to *be*. Seeing him touching her gave me the most uncomfortable feeling between my legs. I felt so weak and so vulnerable! So I would stop seeing her, unless I was sure we would both be alone.

 

I went through other girls I was dating, until things started to look up for me. I met this hottie named Cheryl, she seemed to like me, and soon we were dating full time. She was a six foot blonde, just taller than me. I must say that it really turned me on! When she wore heels, she towered over me even more, and it just gave me the greatest feeling to look up at her, and feel that she was a powerful woman, and I was hers. I guess that making me feel small also made me feel more feminine inside, and I loved it.

Things got better and better between Cheryl and I, so one day I cooked dinner for her. I happen to be a really good cook, so I spent a whole afternoon preparing things, chopping, stirring, boiling, baking, getting everything ready for a romantic candlelight dinner.

When she arrived, she looked like such a knockout in her outfit. She wore a silky pink skirt that had cascading layers of ruffles. I loved it so much, I decided to surf the internet the next day, and find one like it for myself. Her top was a two layer long sleeve, with a red fabric at the bottom, overlaid with a black lace, so that the red shone through the spaces. The top sloped down in a daring V, revealing her oh-so perfect breasts. She wore high heels shoes with thin little heels and pointy toes. Her hair looked so full and sexy, cascading down to her shoulders in layer after layer of gorgeous auburn. Her makeup was heavier than I had ever seen on her before, particularly around her eyes. Her lips looked moist and kissable. Her fingernails were freshly polished. I noticed all the little touches, because I dressed up myself, so I could appreciate them.

I knew it. Tonight, I was going to get laid. I served her dinner, and didn't let her lift a finger all night long. I even cleaned it up, while having her sip champagne on the couch, where I gave her command of the remote control. I wasn't going to do any of those things that girls always complain about guys doing, like being control freaks with their TVs. I had been with enough women as "just friends" to have heard them complain about their men, and I was very careful not to do anything they didn't like.

Everything went perfectly. We kissed on the couch. We started heavy petting. Soon, we were half naked. We went back to my bedroom, and I went down on her (I heard *so* many women complain that their men wanted them to give head, but then they would refuse to go down on *them*. They would say they didn't like the taste!).

After she was all wet, I climbed into the bed. Another common complaint I heard, was that their men wouldn't let the woman do what *she* wanted in bed. So I decided to be generous, and let *her* decide.

"Do you want to be on the bottom, or on top."

"I love it on top" she replied.

I turned over on my back, and smiled as she gently sat on me, and guided me up inside her. I touched her all over, I was loving, gentle, and considerate. She was so hot, and with her bouncing on me like that, I came too quickly for my own liking. I hoped I was all right for her.

When she got off of me, I cuddled with her, and talked to her, which are other things I had been told that men refused to do for their ladies. I did all the right things, and I was sure that she was really happy with me.

 

* * *

 

The next date we had, we didn't end up having sex, but that was all right with me. I wasn't going to be one of those guys who makes their woman feel like all he wants from her is constant sex. I would be very glad to oblige her if she wanted it, but I wasn't going to force it on her.

On Saturday, she came over to my house again. We were going to go for a bike ride, then dinner and a movie. The bike ride was fun, and I let her stay in the lead so that I could watch her tight butt as it slithered on the seat, with her hard legs pumping the pedals. She was really hot to watch!

When we got back to my house, we had to change before dinner. I went to my room, and after cleaning myself up in the bathroom, I put on nice slacks, a dress shirt, and black shoes. I looked around for Cheryl, and noticed that she had gone into my spare bedroom to change. My heart raced. That was where I kept my clothes collection. My femme stuff. I started to sweat. My worst fear had always been of being discovered. Now she was in my secret room, and there was nothing I could do about it.

 

A few minutes later, I heard her swear loudly, and a door slam. Oh-uh. She found it.

"Why in the h*ll did you lie to me, you little sh*t!" she said.

"I never lied to you" I replied in my defense.

"I made a big mistake with you!" she said. "To think, I trusted you, I even went to bed with you, and you've got another woman living with you!"

 

Okay, so that's the background. Now I can pick up from where I started. You see, another thing that women constantly complained to me about, was that men were never honest with them. So instead of telling some big lie to smooth things over, instead of being dishonest with Cheryl and getting our relationship off to a basis of my lying to her, I did what I thought was the right thing. I told her the truth.

"....and so those are all my clothes" I said, as I completed my explanation. "I'm not seeing anyone else. You are the only one for me. But while I am completely attracted to only women, I still have an inner need sometimes to dress up like you, and pretend that I am like you."

"I can't believe it" she said, shaking her pretty head. "So all along, you've been a closet crossdresser."

"If that's what you want to call it. It is more than just dressing to me. It lets me express my feminine side, and it lets me feel like I am able to be who I really am."

"Interesting" she replied, which I didn't expect at all. She stood there thinking, and you could almost hear the wheels turning in her head.

"So what do you want to do?" I asked.

"Let me see you" she said. "Dress up for me."

All my life I had wanted a woman to share my fantasies with. Remember, I considered myself a lesbian (well, a male one at least, if that makes any sense). I even used the female name Leslie for myself. Get it? Leslie? Lesbo? And now, here was this perfect angel, a woman even taller than me, asking me to dress up for her! You can imagine just how excited this made me. My ultimate dream come true (well, other than magically waking up in a real female body, but that's not going to happen! This is real life, not some fantasy story!).

She sat down at the TV, while I went into my room, and picked out a nice outfit. I started by putting on my tightest girdle, and my padded panties, which helped to make it look like I had curves. Then I put on my padded bra, and my C cup size breast forms. Unfortunately, anything with a plunging neckline would give me away, so I went with a teal turtleneck sweater, which was very tight on me, and showed off my 'boobs' underneath.

I had a pair of white pants which came down to just below my knees. I put on kneehigh nylons, and then the white pants, which were very tight and formfitting. With the padded panties, I thought I looked cute from behind when I looked at myself in the mirror.

Now I put on some sensible shoes, since six inch stiletto heels wouldn't go with this outfit! I picked out a pair of white shoes, with only a moderate heel, and somewhat pointy toes. Now came time for my wig. I picked out my blonde one, which came down to about the top of my boobs if I let 'my' hair fall down the front of me.

I put on my clip-on earrings, my diamond tennis bracelet, a pretty gold chain necklace with my birthstone dangling around my neck, and then I put on some makeup. I didn't use as much as I normally would, I wanted to get it done fast. Then I put a few pretty rings on my fingers, sprayed myself with perfume, grabbed my favorite purse, put the long thin strap over my shoulder, and I sauntered out to show Cheryl.

"Hello" I said in the best female voice I could manage. "I'm Leslie. Nice to meet you."

"Very good!" she said, actually smiling. "You make a wonderful woman."

"Thank you!" I replied, blushing from her praise.

"Tell me, Leslie, do you ever go out of the house like that? Or is it just for your own pleasure?"

"I've never gone out" I admitted.

"Well why don't we fix that? We still have a dinner reservation. Let's go as two girlfriends!"

"I don't know" I said. "I'd be so afraid that someone will notice I'm really a man."

"They won't notice" she reassured me. "You'll be with me first of all, and all the guys there will be ogling *me*. And the women will look at your outfit, and look away to snicker."

"What?" I said. "This is a nice outfit!"

"Not for this time of year honey. You have a few things to learn. But don't worry. I will teach you what you need to know. There is a lot of feminine knowledge you could obtain from hanging out with a real woman. Now let me fix your makeup, and we'll go out to dinner."

 

It was scary, but it was also a thrill to be outside the house for the first time as Leslie. And even more, to be out on a date with a woman! It was sheer terror and excitement, all wrapped up into one. My heart was pounding, my adrenaline was going like mad, and I felt like I had just gone over the first hill of a rollercoaster.

At first, I was really uncomfortable being in public as Leslie. I felt like everyone in the whole world was looking at me, and they athey could tell I was really a man in a dress. I made sure to act as feminine as possible, carefully keeping control of my voice and my posture at all times.

After the initial thrill wore off, I was able to relax. We had a wonderful time, and by the end of dinner, I felt comfortable enough about myself to walk with her down the street, and window-shop as we talked.

"You know" she said, "one of the things that attracted me to you at first, was that you really knew how to communicate. You were more like a girl than a guy in that. I should have known."

"Thank you" I said, taking it as a great compliment.

We looked at all sorts of clothes, and she gave me pointers on how I could improve my looks. She pointed out how different clothes are worn at different times of the year, and how my outfit was 'out of the closet' too early, which thought was a really funny joke!

 

When we were done, she drove us back to my house, and I didn't know what to do or what to expect once we got inside. But Cheryl kind of took over at that point. She led me by the hand to the bedroom, and we started kissing. Feeling her real boobs rubbing up against my fake ones was a thrill. Smelling our perfumes mixed together was delicious. Having her long hair mixed with mine as it fell all around the both of us was awesome. I had never been so turned on in my life.

She took off her skirt and her panties, and *ordered* me to go down on her.

"Get down on your knees girl, and suck my pussy" she said.

I felt a thrill of electric shock pass through me when she said this. Being ordered by a woman to do something, when she is acting like *I'm* a woman too, was just mind-blowing. I was so happy that I could have cried.

 

After she was done receiving pleasure, she told me to stand up.

"What have we here?" she said, unbuttoning my pants, and roughly pulling them off of me.

"Why I don't see a dick here at all. There's nothing here but a pussy between your legs!"

My mind reeled as I basked in pleasure.

"Now tell me that you don't have anything between your legs but a pussy" she said sternly.

"I...I only have a pussy between my legs" I replied, feeling untold pleasure unfolding about me as I spoke the words. This was my fantasy come true, and she was playing along so well! I wanted her so badly now.

"You're not a man" she said shaking her head. "You are a woman. Tell me that! Just as I said it."

"I am not a man" I said. "I am a woman."

"You're a little pussy girl."

"I'm a little pussy girl."

She reached down between my legs, and started to rub me. I was so hard, so stiff, and even through the fabric of the girdle and the panties, the stimulation she was giving me was enough that I felt like I was going to come at any second.

"Tell me you are not a man" she whispered.

"I am not a man" I said.

"Tell me that you are a weak sissy girly girl."

"I am a weak sissy girly girl" I said, as I exploded in my panties. I immediately was filled with the thought that I needed to wash them, so they didn't get all stained. They were my good pair, and I hadn't planned on coming in them when I had put them on!

She pressed her hand on my crotch so hard that it started to hurt.

"There's nothing here under my hand!" she said. "You're so small, so flat. You *are* a girl, at least as far as I'm concerned."

I almost fell down to my knees, so complete was my rapture, and I fully surrendered my heart to her at that moment. From that day forward, there could never be any other woman for me. She was the *one*.

 

* * *

 

I was so anxious to see what would happen next in our relationship. I was worried that after our one perfect night, that things would turn sour, or that she would be scared away. But in fact, quite the opposite happened: we quickly got closer and closer, spending more and more of our time together. I'd go out as a man on our dates; it had only been the first one that I went out as Leslie. But in private with Cheryl, I spent most of my time as a girl.

Can you imagine how exciting it was for me that I was going out with a girlfriend who would do things like stop by to give me a new mascara to try, which she had just bought at the mall? Or she would give me panties to wear, or a skirt she picked up on sale. I would go shopping with her too, for more and more clothes. Soon, my guest room closet was completely full out one outfit after the next. I had to buy a used dresser for all the panties, bras, corsets and other accessories I had collected.

She also bought me some exciting dangerous things, like miniskirts, ultrahigh heels, and frilly sexy lacy lingerie. Even when I went out with her in my male clothes, she insisted that I wear panties underneath them, "for her". I had to admit it was exciting. She and I were the only two to know that I was wearing something sexy and lacy underneath my jeans and T-shirt.

When it got to be fall, and I switched to sweaters, she asked me to put a bra on too underneath, all the time, every day.

"Nobody will see it under your bulky sweaters" she said, and she turned out to be right. Now *that* was exciting, eating out with full female underwear, and nobody could tell the difference. Nobody noticed either that I was wearing sweaters from the women's department. That excited me to no end!

One day, we were going out to this nice Italian place for dinner. She showed up at my house wearing a hot red dress. I was in black slacks and a nice burgundy sweater. She asked me to show my bra underneath, which I did by pulling the neck to one side, so that she could see the strap. She smiled and nodded.

"I have a surprise for you" she said.

I loved her surprises.

She handed me a bag, from which I pulled out a pair of little breast forms. Just B cups, if that.

"Put them in" she said.

"What?" I replied.

"You heard me. Put them in. You've got a sweater on. Nobody will notice, unless they knew to look for it."

I put them in, but I didn't know. *I* could see that I had boobs under my sweater now. But she reassured me that I only noticed them because I was looking for them specifically. And I had to admit that it was also a huge thrill to be out of house, with my bra having something to hold up. I had gotten used to wearing a bra in public by now, and that wasn't dangerous anymore. But this was.

 

"I want you to paint your toenails bright red" she told me one day, "and don't ever take it off."

Again, something exciting going on under my clothes. Of course, even before I had met her I was shaving my legs, my chest and my underarms. But now she was constantly suggesting little things like that which I could do to make myself feel more feminine and exciting, yet nobody would notice.

"Lots of men get their ears pierced these days" she told me. "You should get yours done. You could wear something simple and not very flashy when you're dressed as a guy. But then you can wear things loopy, dangly and exciting when you're Leslie."

"I never thought of that" I said.

Plus, I had been growing my hair longer, now that I had found a woman so accepting of my feminine side. So you could hardly notice. Every time we went on a date, she would dare me to do something else. Go out wearing women's pants, and only us two would notice. Why not wear a coat of foundation on my face? It is a dark restaurant, and nobody would be any the wiser. Wear some perfume out. You're with me, so they'll think it's me they are smelling. Wear your control tops under your jeans. Nobody will notice. Let your fingernails grow out longer, so you can paint them when you're Leslie. Keep that hair growing, it makes you look more and more pretty.

We did all this and more, and I can't tell you how happy it made me. There was only one small thing in our relationship that wasn't perfect though, and that was in the bedroom. From the first night that I had revealed 'Leslie' to her, we never had 'regular' intercourse again. I would go down on her. I would use a dildo on her. She had a strap-on, which she used on me a few times to see if I liked it (I didn't). She would make me come in my panties, or sometimes she'd go down on me. But I never got to put myself back up inside her sweet pussy again.

 

I've already explained how I wasn't going to let myself be like other men. I wasn't going to be noncommunicative when there was an issue, and let it become a problem. So I decided to address the issue head-on with her the next day, as we sat on the couch. I was wearing my new green plaid skirt she gave me, and I followed the theme to make myself look like a cute little schoolgirl, with the high white socks and everything.

"We need to talk about something" I said, as she pulled my hair into pigtails.

"What's that Leslie" she said, humming as she did it.

"This is serious Cherly, if you could stop for a second."

"Sure dear. What is it?" she said, letting my hair go, and looking me in the eye.

"I don't mean to sound like I'm complaining" I said, "because I appreciate so much all you've done for me, and how every day we make love together."

"I'm glad you like it so much" she said. "That's what I like so much about you, that you are so open and willing to express your feminine side. To me, most men are just a walking dick, with a bunch of emotional baggage attached. But not you. You are so considerate, so kind, so loving, so adoring. You're everything a girl could want."

"Thank you" I said. "But there is one thing I do need to ask of you. Ever since the day that you discovered this side of me, we've always made love. But I want so much to make love to you, with me up inside you. I mean, I just have this need, I want to penetrate you."

She shot me a really dirty look.

"If you want to be inside me, it's going to have to be back-door, baby."

"But why can't we do it the other way sometimes?"

She shook her head.

"I've indulged your deepest fantasies more than any woman in the world would ever do for you, and you replay my kindness by questioning what *I* want in bed?"

"That's now what I mean!" I said.

"No Leslie. I'm afraid you can't do that. I want to see you as this perfect woman, this close girlfriend of mine, and if we did *that*, I'd just see you as a man. Then I wouldn't want to marry out anymore."

"You want to marry me?" I said.

"I was going to surprise you dear" she said, getting down on one knee. "I love you Les. Will you marry me?"

Of course, I said yes, and felt a shiver run up and down my spine as she slipped an engagement ring onto my finger.

"Am I going to be a bride?" I asked excitedly.

"No" she said. "We need to keep up appearances for our familles. I'll be wearing the dress and the veil, and you'll be in a tux. But we will do one thing unconventional: you will be taking *my* last name. You may be the groom in public, but at home, you *will* be my bride. I might even get a wedding dress for you to wear on our first night together, after the party."

I had never been so happy in all my life. I was going to marry Cheryl!

 

* * *

 

It was a whirlwind of activity for us, preparing for a wedding. Cheryl said it was so sweet that I was able to do things with her that other men wouldn't like help pick the decorations, plan the menu, pick out the dresses for the bridesmaids, pick the invitations, help address them, and everything. We did so much together, we were so close!

Among all the girls who were my friends, when they got married, I would hear the same complaints about their fiancés: they don't want to participate in the planning. They insist on having a wild bachelor party. All of those things I swore not to do. In fact, I made it a point to tell Cheryl that I was not going to have a bachelor party, out of respect for her. She smiled, and told me that if I wanted to, I could dress up as Leslie, and go out with her and the girls to the bachealorette party! I could also be Leslie at the wedding shower, if I wanted to be one of the girls for that as well. It would mostly be her friends, since my family lived so far away. I accepted her generous offer right away.

The bachealorette party was fun, hanging out with all the girls, drinking, and playing games. We didn't get *too* wild, but at one point someone brought a DVD which had a movie with guys making out with other guys. It did nothing for me, but I could appreciate how they might like it, since I loved watching videos with girl on girl action. So I just smiled, and played along.

Things got hectic and stressful as we neared the wedding date. There was so much to do! The shower was fun, as we drank memosas, played games, and Cheryl received all sorts of cool gifts from her friends. But now, things were a blur. And before I knew it, it was our wedding day.

In a way, I had wanted for Cheryl to have *me* dress as the bride, but she didn't want to do that in front of her family. However, she did give me some things very special, to dress in that day. The first thing I put on were a sexy white thong panties. Then I glued my A cup breast forms into place. Next came a matching red corset, with a lace pattern and silk on the outside. Wow, it was hot! Then I put on a lacy garter belt, which held up white silk stockings. Everything was all satin, lace and silk. I felt *so* special wearing it all. Around my neck I put on a pearl necklace, which would be hidden from view by my shirt.

Now I put on my tux, and you'd never know that underneath I was dressed up like a girl. But I wasn't done yet. My toenails were freshly polished of course, with a bright red color. But now instead of the usual clear coat on my fingernails, I used a pink color she gave me, which was really close to the color of my nail beds. So unless you really looked closely, and noticed how the color was completely even, you'd never know that I had nailpolish on.

Under my hair, which was longer than ever, I had on my prettiest dangling earrings. I plucked my eyebrows a bit more than usual, and then I started on my makeup. A light coat of foundation, a natural looking lip gloss, just the slightest touch of light pink rouge, and a little bit of eyeliner. Just a little. You'd hardly notice.

On the inside, and under my tux, I felt all frilly and feminine. Yet my outward appearance was that of a man. I loved Cheryl so much. She was so smart. This was a perfect reflection of me! Man on the outside, girl on the inside. She understood me so well.

 

Now it was really a blur for a while. Get ready for the ceremony, walk down the aisle, and suddenly, bang, it's all done! I was now married to Cheryl, and I had taken *her* last name instead of my own. My family wouldn't like it very much once they found out, but I didn't care. It let the world know that I belonged to her now.

For the ceremony, I had accepted a plain gold band from her. But once we were done with the reception, I was to always wear the diamond engagement ring she had given me. I felt so special! So pretty under all the facade of being a man. As we sat at the head table, she would put her hand on my lap, and whisper into my ear that she knew what I had on underneath, and it was driving her wild.

I could not wait until the party was done, so we could go to our hotel room, and consummate the marriage. I wanted her so bad! As much as I loved being a girl, and doing all the things I did with her, I had a *physical* need to make love to her in the 'normal' way. I wanted to be up inside her, and that was all I could think about all night as we ate, drank and danced: me on top of her in the bedroom, going in and out.

 

Now the party was over, and we rode in the limo from the banquet hall to the hotel, where she had already checked us in. We went to the room, and it was lovely looking. She went around and lit the scented candles she had strategically placed around the room, and now it was lit with just the flickering tongues of the flames.

"Are you ready for your special outfit I bought you?" she said.

"Oh yes!" I replied.

I was expecting a bridal gown of my own, but what she gave me instead was even more exciting: a sexy French Maid outfit. The top was an almost see-through white fabric, with lace trim around the plunging neckline and the arms. The skirt was very poofy, also trimmed with inch wide lace. The middle was colored black of course. The skirt would reveal my panties underneath, being so short! With my white silk stockings I had on already, and the matching high heels she handed me, it would be truly exciting.

I was ready to put it on, but she something else for me: new ultrarealistic D cup breast forms! I took off the tiny A cups I had worn under my tux, and replaced them with something full and womanly. I had cleavage! I had big boobs! It was just the most wonderful feeling. With the corset back on and tightened as much as Cheryl could manage, I felt overwhelmed.

Next, she had me sit still, as she put my hair up, with something that looked like a tiara, all glittery and silver. Now my ears were exposed, including my dangling earrings. And you could see my pretty pearl necklace. Then she applied heavy makeup to my face, making me even more pretty.

I took off my plain gold wedding band, and she put the diamond engagement ring on in it's place, and made me vow that I would never again remove it, because it would be a constant reminder that I belonged to her now.

 

I looked in the mirror, and I was so excited. I had never looked so frilly, so feminine, and I was excited beyond all belief. And I was married to the girl of my dreams.

"Now that we are married, I want to try to have children, right away" she said.

That was music to my ears. Now, we could start having the sexual relations I had been craving! I was so happy that tears of joy started to well up in my eyes.

"You want us to have babies, don't you?" she said.

"Oh yes!" I replied. "More than anything."

"Well, I am glad that you are so eager and willing" she said, sounding somewhat surprised, which was confusing to me!

"Lets get going right away" I said, with full enthusiasm. I had to have her. Now.

"My thoughts exactly" she said, as she approached me.

We started hugging and kissing, after which she told me to take her wedding dress off. I stripped her down until she only had on her bra and panties.

"Lay on the bed, on your back" she said.

"Shouldn't I undress first?" I said.

"Do it!" she commanded, which was a real turn-on for me, to have her order me around while I was dressed as her maid! I got on the bed, and laid on my back.

"Now lets get a few things straight" she said, as she straddled me, and I looked up at her.

"Sure" I said.

"First of all, you must know your proper place in the marriage. You are mine now. Tell me."

"I am yours" I said, as my arousal grew more and more. I loved feeling in her power.

"I am strong, and you are weak. Tell me!"

"You are strong, and I am weak" I said.

"You are a weak, girly sissy."

"I am a weak girly sissy."

"You are not a real man. You're not a man at all!"

"I am not a real man. I'm not a man at all."

"Do you really understand that Leslie? That you are not a man?"

"Yes" I said, trying to please her. "I am not a man. I am yours."

"I am so glad you understand me sweet dear" she said.

Cheryl picked up a cell phone that was laying by the bed, and she pressed a button.

"We're ready" she said, then hung up.

"Ready for what? Who was that?"

"Leslie, you fulfill me emotionally. You are the perfect partner for me because of who you are, and what you are. But you have one problem: you are not a man. When I allowed you to penetrate me with that tiny little pathetic excuse or a dick, I couldn't even feel it. You are incapable of giving me an orgasm with that thing. That is why I've been training you to make love to me like a girl does. That is your role in our relationship: to give me the emotional support that you do, and to be my lesbian lover. I know that is what you really want."

"But what about having children?" I asked, my voice trembling and shaking.

A smiled crossed her face, which brought chills to me.

"I want to have children, as do you. But I can't let your weak pathetic genes mix with mine. I want to mate with someone who is strong; someone who is virile, someone who can satisfy me as a woman. Do you want our children to grow up to be weak pathetic sissies like you? Or do you want them to be smart, strong and healthy? Do you want a child like yourself?"

"No..." I said. I would never wish my position on anyone else.

"Then you agree. I need a real man, for procreation purposes. And that is where Anthony comes in."

"Anthony?"

"He'll be here in a moment. You will be allowed to kneel in the corner, and watch him make love to me. He will do it to me every day, until I become pregnant. And you get to watch."

Remember all those feelings I told you about, when I saw an ex-girlfriend with a boyfriend? Now I was feeling something like that, times a hundred, because I was about to have to watch my wife with another man, on our wedding night! I couldn't move with her on top of me. I was helpless as I heard the door open, and footsteps approach.

"You're right baby" he said in his deep voice. "He is very pretty. Hello Leslie. I'm Anthony. I will be the father of your child."

"Go to your corner" said Cheryl. "I am ordering you to play with yourself as you watch us, so you can have your wedding night orgasm too."

I felt completely helpless, completely distraught, and I felt like my life had spun out of control. I was paralyzed inside. Part of me wanted to run out of the room, but in my skimpy French Maid uniform, how could I do that? And it would take too long to change. I was frozen, watching as Anthony stripped naked, and started kissing Cheryl.

"Oh, you're a real man" she said. "So strong, so handsome. Oh and look at the size of you! I don't know if you can fit all of that into me! You're so big!"

He got on top of her, and pushed himself in, as Cheryl gasped and moaned through her open mouth. He turned to me and grinned.

"Aren't you supposed to be playing with yourself?" he said.

"Leslie is so small, she doesn't have a real dick like you dear" said Cheryl. "Leslie only has an oversized clit, but she is going to play with that now, and pleasure herself. Isn't that right Leslie. Tell me!"

All I could manage was a pathetic 'yes', as I watched Anthony pump her again and again.

"Tell us again that you're weak, and you're not a man" she ordered.

"I am weak" I said, as I started to cry. "I am not a man."

"You're d*mn right" said Anthony. "You can't please a sweet woman like this? She needs a real man. Like me. It feels so good to be inside her like this."

"Leslie, thank Anthony for being so kind, and taking care of me. Now!" she ordered.

"Thank you Anthony" I said, barely audibly. I was pathetic. I was weak. Before, I felt sort of like a woman, but of course I knew I came up short there, because I had the wrong plumbing. Now I didn't even feel like a man. I was nothing. And Anthony was putting his seed into Cherly, so that we could have his baby. She ordered me to make myself come, and I struggled to do her bidding, through my tears.

"Do you want my pussy?" she asked me.

"Oh yes!" I said.

Anthony rolled off of her.

"Come here Leslie" she said. "You may go down on me now."

"But he was just in there!" I said. "He came inside of you."

"I know" she said. "But if you want any pussy tonight, you will have to deal with that."

I wanted her so much, I loved her, and I would do anything for her. I got on my knees by the side of the bed, and went down on her.

"Taste him" she said. "Taste him inside me, so you can see what a real man tastes like."

 

When she had enough, she told me to go pour a glass of wine for her, and for Anthony.

"I dressed you as a maid" she said, "because that is what you will be when my *real* man is around. You will serve us, and do anything we ask. At home, you will dress as a maid most of the time. You will cook, clean, wash, and do all of the woman's work, while I go out with Anthony on a date. But don't worry Leslie. Some day soon, we might find a boyfriend for you too."

"But I thought I was married to you, so that we could be together all the time" I replied.

"We will my dear. You will be my servant, and we will be together. And once I have my babies, you will be their nanny, raising them, caring for them, changing their diapers, feeding them from the bottle. They will grow up to be strong healthy children, because Anthony is such a big strong man. And you will be their nanny."

I was crying now.

"At home, I have removed the last of your man-clothes. All you own now are women's clothes. You are a girl now, and you will remain one at all times. You *are* Leslie now, and there is no going back.

 

I did what they told me. I served them wine. I made the bed. I slept on the couch in the other room of the suite, while Anthony spent the night in bed with my wife.

 

* * *

 

The next morning when I woke up, I wanted to die. I put on a robe, and ventured into the bedroom. I was *so* scared. But when I got there, Anthony was gone, and Cheryl was all smiles. She was warm, loving, kind, and she acted like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

"What is going on?" I said. "Last night...."

"It was a test" she told me.

"A test?"

"To see how far I could push you. You passed with flying colors my dear."

"I don't understand!" I said. "You broke my heart."

"When an old building downtown needs to be fixed, sometimes it is beyond repair, and all that you can do is to replace it. But before you can rebuild it, you must tear it down. The same goes for you. I am going to remake you, and turn you into the kind of person that *I* want you to be. But in order to remake you, I had to tear *you* down. I know you feel completely crushed now, completely helpless. But do not worry my dear. It was for your own good."

"What are you going to do to me? What are you going to turn me into?"

"I am going to make you my slave" she said, "but it has always been something you secretly wanted, isn't it?"

"Yes" I had to admit.

"You will serve me always. Sometimes I will make you wear your maid outfit, and serve me. But most of the time, you will remain a man. I will make you a woman when it serves *my* purposes. You will do what I say, when I say it, and you will never complain."

"I don't understand!" I said.

She undid my robe, and stood naked before her. She took off her nightie, and she was naked too. She pulled me by the hand to the bed, where she told me to lay on my back. I was amazed as she went down on me, and got me hard. Then she sat on me, allowing me to penetrate her for only the second time in our who relationship. Every nerve in my body responded with the wondrous flow of pleasure I felt.

"I can make you feel like the lowest form of scum in the world" she said. "Or I can give you the greatest pleasure possible."

She bounced up and down on me, and I almost came already. My heart just melted for her, as it had done once before. Tears of joy formed in my eyes, as I looked up at her, and realized just how much I loved her. I realized that I really *would* do anything for her. Anything! I felt so completely hers.

"You are mine" she said, bouncing again.

"I am yours" I replied.

"You are mine forever."

"I am yours, forever."

"Tell me you are my slave."

"I am your slave" I said.

She kept going, and I exploded up inside of her. I was wrapped and enveloped with a warmth and a glow of joy I had never experienced before in all my life. Being hers felt so *right*. It overrode all else in my mind. I loved her so much! I *wanted* to serve her, to please her, to make her happy. I didn't matter to me, just her. I was nothing, and she was everything. I would do anything for her, and to keep her love for me.

 

I don't know how she did it, but in the space of one day, I went from being her devoted lover, to her complete slave, loyal to the death, in love, and willing to do *anything* to keep her. I am completely hers, now, and for ever.

  

  

  

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