Life Insurance

by Weirdy Gill

 

This wedding was supposed to be one of those events one remembers for a long time. The family of the bride was one of the richest of the city. The wealth of this family, it was said, was coming from businesses that were not to be discussed into too much detail. Officially, the bride's father, Mr Klatsky, had a few factories in different places of the world, which was the origin of his wealth. In reality, it was the other way around. His wealth had allowed him to buy those factories and look like a decent business man. But the way he originally became rich, could have taken him to jail more than once. One thing was sure: He had made himself a lot of enemies in the past, and, if that was not enough, he was making even more enemies by the way he was running his business today.

The groom, Pavel Klatsky was the step brother of the bride. The groom had been adopted by Mr Klatsky, 20 years ago for reasons that were a topic of hot discussions. Did Mr Klatsky decide to adopt the boy because he did not have a son himself? Was there a link between this boy and the assassination of a drug lord, which happened at this time? Was it because his wife died, when she gave birth to her daughter Julia? We will probably never know. But it was a strange wedding: the groom was a bit dumb. A nice guy, but not very bright, to say the least, doing anything that his step father would say. On the other hand, the bride was brilliant and hot headed, always doing what she was not expected to do.

I was quite aware of this situation, being related to the family. Julia and I shared the same grand-grand father: our mothers were cousins. Although the family link was weak, we knew each other quite well as we had spent some time together when we were younger. We were very alike in term of character, and our faces shared common features. There were no doubts that we were from the same family. We were very close when we were teenagers, a bit too close, I'd say. And that was our little secret. I lost contact with her when my parent died in a car crash: I was 18 then, and taking care of myself happened to be quite difficult. Her father, Piotr Klatsky, who is a bit like my uncle, helped me financially and I used to be invited once in a while to their mansion. At the time Julia moved away to pursue her studies, while I had to give up mine and start earn my living. I had not seen her for the past 3 years and I was quite happy to participate to her wedding.

But she was not there yet, and I could see Mr Klatsky, growing nervous. The wedding was already 45 minutes late. My uncle was discussing strongly with his men, looking nervously at the crowd. I could understand him: there were about 250 people waiting to be fed. The idea of sending them home had to be unpleasant. Our eyes met for a split second. I made a little smile and waved my hand to salute him; he returned the smile to me and went back to his discussion.

Another 15 minutes went buy. People were starting to feel something was wrong. Knowing Julia as I did, I was not too surprised: she was not the kind of girl to marry her step brother. A hand closed on my shoulder. I turned to face one of Mr Klatsky Bodyguard.

Are you Max Steamish, he said

I am

Will you follow me please

It was more an order than a question. He walked away and as I started to follow him, another bodyguard started behind me. As if I would run away… They led me to a small room. Klatsky was in, with a man I had seen before. He was tall and strong, a body used to the gym. His name was Jack. I had seen him before and I supposed he was, let's say, the operation manager of Mr Klatsky's former business of drugs and prostitution. There was also an Indian woman, in her 30s. Real beautiful. She was standing by a table on which the bride's dress was waiting for Julia.

Hi Uncle Piotr

Hi, Max, how are you

Fine and yourself?

Well, not so good, you know

Julia?

Yes Julia!

She has never been easy to handle, has she?

You bet…

I was starting to wonder what the point of this discussion was. Why should he waste any time with me? I think I knew.

- Do you want help to dismiss the guest? I offered.

- Not exactly, said Jack, with a nasty smile

My uncle looked uneasy, which was unusual for him.

Common, said Jack. We don't have much time.

Listen Max, he started, swallowing painfully. Julia won't be coming. Now, for many reasons, this wedding must happen today. And…

And? I asked, as he stopped

Well, the two of you look a bit alike, you see, so you are going to wear her dress and play the bride for the rest of the day.

I stared at him in disbelief.

- Sandra, he added, pointing at the Indian woman, will dress you up and make you look just like a girl. She is very good at that.

- In your dreams, I said, standing up. I'll never do that. You are sick.

- He is not asking you, said Jack softly. He is ordering you

- No way! I am not a sissy, nor anything like that

- Then, we will have to do it the hard way.

- If there is one thing you can't force me to do, it is…

I couldn't finish my sentence. Sandra had put a needle into my arm, pushing some kind of drug inside my muscle. Instantly, I felt dizzy and had to sit back on a chair. Everything started to happen as in a dream.

- Listen, said my Uncle, you will believe everything Sandra tells you, and do everything she wants you to do. Repeat.

I just could not resist. 'Yes,' I said 'I will do all she says, believe all she says'. My uncle and Jack exchanged a smile. 'Let's explain the situation to the groom, now' said Jack as they walked away. I was now alone with Sandra. She started to work on me. On my brain…

- It's a wonderful day, today, she said. For a girl, the wedding day is the best day of her life. And you are a girl, and it is your wedding.

My mind tried to fight back. I tried to speak, to tell her she was wrong but nothing came out of my mouth. But my uncle had told me to believe her. So I had to be a girl. She kept talking.

How lucky you are to marry such a nice man. And how lucky he is to marry such a beautiful girl. You love each other so much, it is wonderful.

And as she kept talking to me, I kept complete control of myself. I was believing her blindly. So I was a girl. And it was my wedding, and I loved my husband?

Well, I was indeed lucky. I started to feel happy.

Your future husband is so gorgeous. Make sure you treat him right, if you don't want other girls to get too close to him. What do you think?

Yes, I said

OK, now we are going to prepare for the ceremony

She took me to a bathroom, and made me go under the shower. I don't quite remember what she did to me, but I was doing all she wanted me to do. I have images of my body hair being washed away after she put some liquid soap all over me, I remember she did something to my hair to make them longer. I think she made me wear a bustier or a corset with garter. I just know it was a bit too tight at waist level. She made me wear white stockings and a white panty. She made me squeeze my dick between my legs to put the panty on. And all the time, I was so happy. Incredibly happy.

You will always feel excited with sexy underwear's like those, especially today which is your wedding. You can give yourself quite some pleasure by pressing you sex within your legs. You can masturbate without anyone noticing it. Do it shamelessly: you must get pleasure being a girl, and enjoy.

My underwear's were all in white satin. The softness of the fabric on my skin and the light pressure of the stocking on my legs were making my body react. Beside, she had just told me to be excited and I was starting to feel really hot. I did as she told me, hardening a bit the muscle of my thighs to press my sex. I started to move my hand down between my legs. She noticed.

Oh dear, you are already so excited. But it is a bit too soon. Let's put the dress on.

It was a typical wedding dress, covering me from top to bottom, covering my shoulder and my arms. It was quite thin at the waist, then expanding wider at the level of my butt. I then put the white high heel shoes and a little white hat. She made me walk a bit, so that I could get used to the shoes. Each step would send me jolt of pleasure between my legs.

I feel so hot, I said. So excited. I think I am going to... to

To come?

Yes.

You are such a good girl. Listen, you will do as I say. You are going to keep yourself hot until you are married. When the priest will ask your husband to kiss you, then you will kiss him and come at the same time. You'll be the happiest girl of all time. Then, you will feel excited again during the evening: enjoy as much as you can, and always in your husband' arms. You love him so much... Now look at yourself, how beautiful you are. You can be proud of yourself

She pushed me in front of the mirror. The girl infront of me was beautifull. Long blond hair under the little white hat. My breast was a good C-size one, and my waist was quite thin. My butt was hidden by the shape of the breast but the big breast and the thin waist were enough to make anyone believe that the rest was of the same quality. And this girl was me. I was feeling real proud. I didn't have a choice did I?

And I did as she told me. I was so excited, and I was feeling so happy and so cute. So sure of myself. Everyone was looking at me, everyone was making pictures of me, and everyone was nice with me. And all the time Sandra was behind me, telling me what to do. Walking in the church, at the arm of my husband, I felt so warm, so comfortable, so special. And so excited. And when finally my husband kissed me, I came. And it was a wonderfully soft and long jolt of pleasure, in the arms of my husband.

As we got out of the church, I started to realize that all that was wrong, that my bustier was too tight on my waist, that it was difficult to walk with those high heels, that I did not really want to be there. I turned to Sandra and I could see it in her eyes: she was expecting it to happen. The drugs effects were vanishing. She took me by the arm, gently

Something wrong? She said softly. And as she said those words, I felt a nasty sting in my arm muscle, as she was giving me another shot of drug.

After this second shot, I don't remember much of what happened. I know I danced all night, that I came many time, and all the time in the arms of my husband. I remember he was making me feel so girly, so special. I remember Sandra behind me, giving me a shot once in a while. I remember my husband me doing things in our bedrooms that I did not enjoy much. But Sandra had warned me: the first night with a man is never pleasant. All this time, I had been convinced I was a girl, and behaved like one, and convinced everybody of it. Because that was what I believed myself: I was the most beautiful girl of the evening.

 

But the dream had to end, and it ended in pain. The drug made me sick for three days. Big time sick. Three days of nightmares, headaches, hallucinations, vomiting, pain, sadness. And all the time, by my side, Sandra. Nursing me, bringing me food, drinks, all I wanted.

I finally came back to reality. I found myself in the bed of my wedding night. My brain was starting to realize what had happened, putting the different pieces back in order. The talk with my uncle, the first drug shot, and then all this good time, this pleasure. Sexual pleasure. Big time. I couldn't help to feel ashamed. I was trying to convince myself that, after all, it had been quite an experience, and that I could go back to normal life. But I had disturbing thought. First there was this feeling of happiness, when I was remembering myself in the wedding gown. I did enjoy it and I did have a lot of pleasure from being dressed in sexy woman's clothes. From being a sexy woman. Even more disturbing was my husband. I couldn't help but think about him as my husband, and I wanted so much to be with him.

I decided to stand up, so as to see where I was. I pushed the bed cover aside, revealing the way I was dressed. I was wearing a long blue silk nightgown. It had some fancy lacing at breast level. It did not have any sleeves, and I could realize that my arms, my body and my breast were now completely hairless. I checked my legs: they were hairless too. I shivered: I put my hand between my legs. Just to check everything was still here. It was.

The night gown was wonderful, for sure, and probably highly expensive. The feeling of the soft fabric on my skin was real pleasant, almost getting me excited again. I stood up, mesmerized. There was a wardrobe and I opened its doors, hoping to find clothes for me. On the left, well organised on hangers, all sorts of dresses, skirts and blouses. On the right, on the bookshelves, where the underwear's: stockings, corset, bustier, bodice, garter belt, panties. Not exactly the type of underwear's for the average boy. And not the type of clothes I was looking for.

The door opened suddenly, making me jump. Sandra came in.

So you are awake at last. It's about time: they are waiting for you.

Well, I said, sitting on the bed, Good morning

Sorry, good morning, she answered. Are you feeling better?

I want to go home

But you are home, she answered with a gentle smile

I stood, upset. I took the bottom of the gown to raise it up to my nose, showing her my naked body.

- Look, I said, Am I a girl? No. Is that a girl's room? yes. So it is not my home. Now, you bring me my clothes and you let me go.

She looked at my body, as if she were highly interested.

- You should dress and follow me. Mr Klatsky wants to see you

As she said so, she headed to the wardrobe, and started to take a dress and some of the sexy underwear. I raised my voice

I am not wearing those. Bring me to my uncle, now. I was almost screaming.

She turned back to me, her face red. She was not used to be yelled at, obviously.

OK, don't yell. I don't have any man's clothes so please just follow me. But I am warning you, they won't like it.

I don't like it either.

She took me outside the room. I recognized my uncle's mansion in which I had been quite many times. We went across the house to a large office. My uncle, Jack and my husband were sitting around a table, discussing. A bodyguard was watching the scene. I couldn't help but think about the pleasure I had in the arms of my husband. I felt a hard on coming, and wished I had accepted to get dressed. That was sick. Quickly, I took a chair and sit, hiding what was to hide under the table. I opened my mouth to start complaining but my uncle started first.

Listen, he said, you did real well at the wedding night. You were such a good girl! And I want to thank you for that.

He gave me a big smile, but then moved on. "But we still have a problem: we can't find Julia. And we need her, because Pavel here needs to be seen with his wife when he goes out."

This is none of my concern. I want to go, I said, angrily. I was trying to avoid looking at my husband. I was hopelessly trying to contain my hard on. I could feel him staring at me. What was he thinking?

I need you to be Julia for some more time. I'll pay you more than you earn in your job, much more.

No way.

He is not asking, cut in Jack. He is telling you. Sandra is going to teach you how too look like a woman, I'll teach you how to behave. You will make sure you and your husband look like a happy couple, and you will make sure you give him enough pleasure, so that he does not start looking around. It is extremely important that you two look happy together. You'll come to my office in one hour, properly dressed, to get your first lesson.

Jack is right, added my uncle. You need to cooperate: we could use drug again but it could provoke permanent damages to your brain. You have already gotten too much but you shouldn't have much permanent effects. More of it would be unsafe to you. Just do as we ask. It will last a few days more and you'll end up richer than before. We just need you to be a good girl for a few more days. You may leave now.

Before I could say a thing, the bodyguard was showing me out. I was stunned by what they had told me and by the soft threat made by my uncle. It had the advantage, however, to calm my erection. The body guard left me at the door of the bedroom. Sandra opened the door and led me in.

We don't have much time, she said. In an hour you should be with Jack

I don't want to do that

Why not? After all, you did have a lot of fun at the wedding. Your husband is so lovely.

Seeing my husband a few minutes ago had already warmed me up. But then, the fast walk back to the room with the bodyguard, the softness of the nightgown all over my skin and now Sandra's word, all of that was turning me on. My erection started again, giving an unholy shape to the gown that Sandra did not miss. She grabbed my sex gently through the soft silk and entered the room, pulling me in.

You know, you can get a lot of pleasure out of women's clothes. And so you should.

It took a bit more than an hour to get me ready for Jack. I wasn't drugged anymore and I felt ridiculous. I was wearing a knee high skirt, in Scottish wool, and a red blouse. I had medium heel shoes and black stocking. A corset with garter, very tight at the waist, was giving my body a feminine shape. I was feeling ridiculous, but the image in the mirror was not. I was a tall girl, tall and slim. Gone were the blond hair: I was wearing now a dark wig, shoulder length. My make up was softening my masculine features. Overall, I was almost cute. And again, the softness of all those outfits was so unusual to my skin, that I was starting to feel excited again, despite what Sandra did to me a few moments ago. However, my shoulder and arm muscles were a bit bulky for a girl, and so were my legs.

Common, you are late, said Sandra

Do you think I look like a cute girl? I asked, blushing

You will do for today, but you have a looong way to go. Come on. Jack does not like to wait

I don't give a shit about jack

You will soon.

She took my hand and rushed me to Jack's office. All in all, I was 45 minutes late. Sandra entered the office and started to apologize. Jack waved her hand to dismiss her. She went away, leaving me with him. The room did not look like an office at all. There were whips and handcuffs hanging on the walls, chains hanging on pulleys and many leather things that I had never seen before.

Jack was staring at me, from top to bottom. He walked around me, investigating all the details of my outfit. Silence was growing deep and I was starting to feel uneasy.

- Am I cute enough? I said, just to say something
He moved in front of me, staring right through my eyes.

- Let's make the rules clear. When you are in this room, you don't talk unless I ask you something. Everything you say should start by master, and finish by master. I order, you obey. You don't obey you are punished. You don't follow the rules, you are punished, you are late you are punished. Understood?

I looked at him, in disbelief. Was he mad?

- Now, raise your skirt, so that I can see what's under.

- Who do you think you are? I said, daringly.

- Put your hands in front of you. Now. He had yelled this order.

I waved my hands slowly. In a blink he pulled a chain hanging from the ceiling and rolled it around my wrists. Then he went to the wall and took a long metal rod and another chain. He walked back to me, and put the rod on the floor in front of me. It had a square section of about 1 cm.

- On your knees. Now.

I was starting to feel scared, so I obeyed. As I was doing it, I started to understand he had put the rod just so that my knees would rest on it. As soon as I was settled, I started to feel pain. I tried to move back but it was too late. He had already tied my ankles with an other chain. I was trapped: with my tied legs, I could not stand up anymore, and with my hands tied to the chain ceiling I could not attempt to fall on the side.

The whole thing had taken less than 20 seconds. It was brutal. But it was only a beginning. Jack took a box of needles and a box of cigarette paper and went to work on my hands. Taking his time, he started by taking one needle, and one paper foil. He put he needle through the paper and stung the needle on the tip of one of my finger. And he kept going, stinging all my finger tips with two or more needles, each needle holding a paper foil. It was not pleasant, but it did not hurt much. My knees where hurting much more. When he was done, he opened the windows, and I understood. The air started to move in the room, shaking the paper foil. As they started to move, the needles pin went on shaking under my skin, sending pain signals to all my fingers. The pain was insignificant to begin with but it quickly started to build up and propagate. First through the fingers then up the arms, hurting more and more. And meanwhile, I still had my knees on this rod.

Please, I said, I'll be…

Did I talk to you? He asked

No, but

Is that the way I told you to talk to me?

The pain was starting to be unbearable. It was as if all my bones, from finger to shoulder were affected by the vibration of the papers. It deserved some concession.

Master, no, master

This is better. Now there is something missing.

He took something on the wall. It had the shape of a man's sex, with two leather straps on each side. He forced it into my mouth, and attached the strap behind my head. So here I was, my knees on a narrow rod, my hand and ankles chained, and those evil needles sending continuous jolt of pain through my whole body. And I could not even ask or bargain for help, because of that sex shaped gag. I looked for him to beg relief with my eyes. But he had left the room.

I stayed a few minutes, trying to find a solution to this terrible situation, but there was nothing much I could do. I was starting to think that he would not leave me in such a position for a long time. I was trying to convince myself that it would be useless to punish me so hard. Indeed, the door opened and he got back in. I felt relieved. That was over. He walked to me and moved his hand toward my mouth, as if to remove the sex shaped gag. But instead, he flicked a switch, and the sex shaped thing started to vibrate and move up and down in my mouth. The damn thing was not a sex shaped gag but a dildo. I had a damn dildo in my mouth.

How long did I stay like that? I have no idea. Pain was growing to level I could not imagine before. Pain and humiliation. He had turned me into a thing. A suffering thing with a vibrating sex in the mouth. Tears filled my eyes. I cried, like I had never cried before. I tried to stand up to relieve my knees, but that made me move my hands, sending unbearable pain signals into my whole arms. Every move, every attempt to ease the pain would result in even more suffering.

He finally came back, after what seemed to be centuries of raw pain. He slowly removed the needles, untied me and removed the gag. I could barely stand up, and could not stop crying. He left me cry for a moment. Then:

Did you learn something today, he said

Master, I said, yes Master

Good, what did you learn?

Master, that I should obey, master

Good. Now raise your skirt

Tears of humiliation replaced tears of pain in my eyes. Humiliation from being dressed as a woman in front of this man, for having suffered so much, for having to obey like a little girl. And, although I would not admit it, from showing my sexy underwear. Slowly, I took the bottom of my skirt, and raised it high enough so that he could see my red panty, and the ribbon of my garters. I had never felt so humiliated, never felt so much shame.

- Good, girl. What do you have to say for this lesson

Master, thank you, master

Tomorrow same time. Be on time. Now you go back to Sandra. This afternoon you have a blow job class with her. I want you to promise me to be a good student and to make your husband benefit of it.

Master I promise master.

Tomorrow, you'll dress as a college girl, with pink corset and panty and white stocking,

Master, yes , master

I came back to my room, and cried, cried and cried again. Of pain, of rage, of shame, of humiliation. And when I finally calmed down, Sandra started to teach me all about blow jobs.

One month went buy. I did get more punishment from Jack, but thank god, not as severe as the first one. More humiliation than pain. Everyday was the same. Jack in the morning, Sandra in the afternoon, my husband in the night Sandra would teach me how to be good looking: the make up tricks, the postures, the smiles. She explained me all about the ways of being attractive without being vulgar. She would also teach me how to please my husband with all my available body holes.

With Jack it was different. Jack would make me walk with very high heels, he would make me repeat the same gesture 1000 time, like throwing my hair backward; or smile or anything, actually. Then he would punish me, about anything I did wrong during the day before. Was I unpleasant with My Uncle? Had I been late at lunch? Did I show inadvertently the top of my stocking? He would make me lick his feet, remove my stocking and put them back on a 100 time, walk on my hands, with my skirts falling on my waist. And every day he would tell me how to dress the next day, underwear's included.

Then I had to go to the gym to exercise and have some massage. The purpose of them was to give my muscles a more feminine shape. Women's muscles are longer than men's, which give their legs and shoulders such a nice shape. And after a month, my muscles did start to look quite nice, I have to say. I was also starting to grow a breast. I would learn much later that my underwear's were containing hormones that would diffuse in my blood.

The lessons from Jack and Sandra were efficient: I was starting to think and act like a girl. I could dress right, walk right with proper butt motion. My body language was becoming naturally feminine.

Meals were taken as families, with my husband, Sandra, Jack and my Uncle. There were also people invited, discussing business with Jack and My Uncle. Sometime, I would step in and ask questions, or make suggestions, just to keep myself busy. Surprised at the beginning, my uncle accepted my stepping in quite well, as my comments were usually helpful..

Then there was my husband. He was spending his time playing computer games, or going out with friends. He also liked spending time with me and not only because of the pleasure I had to give him. Probably because I was always nice with him. My feelings towards him were specials. Because of the wedding night and the effect of the drugs, anytime I was close to him, I would feel special. My conscious mind was pushing me to run away, but my unconscious wanted to stay close to him, hug him, kiss him. On one hand, it made my sexual obligation more pleasant on the other hand, it made me spend sleepless night wondering whether that was love. Twice a week at least, we would go out, to a restaurant, a theatre or a night club. For some reason, it was important that we had a social life, that we would be seen together. Of course all the time, there were enough bodyguards around us, so as to prevent me from escaping.

And all the time, I had to be careful. I always had to be a good girl, cute, sexy and caring for my husband. I had to behave, as Jack put it. And any mistake I would do during the day, he would make me pay in his office the following morning.

All in all, my life was hell. My only pleasure was coming from the clothes. I still couldn't get over the fact that they were so comfortable, and providing such a warm and soft feeling. I was getting a lot of pleasure out of them, sometime even more than during my wedding. I was realizing it was Sandra's fault again: she had programmed me when I was under the drug. Having pleasure from the clothes was one of the first things she had told me.

Then came the day I had been expecting, the day I had been preparing for from day one. That evening, my husband had suggested we'd go to the movie. I insisted we'd go and see Titanic and I had to use some girlish tactics to make him accept it. I was quite glad he did, because I had a plan. For the past month, I had been preparing my escape. I knew there was one place were bodyguards would not follow me, and that was the lady's room. I knew as well that the lady's room of our usual theatre had a window through which I could escape. I had stolen a few banknotes in my husband wallet, so that I could buy myself a taxi to return to my flat. I had it all prepared for this evening and I had the banknotes hidden between my now B size tits. My plan was to go back to my own flat, open it with the spare key I was always hiding in a special place, change to normal clothes and go away, leave this town forever.

Surprisingly, it all went as I hoped. During the film, I escaped to the lady's. As the movie is very long, I was expecting to have some time before anyone would find out I was gone. I jumped through the window, and grabbed a taxi. My heart was beating like crazy, just thinking I was going to get dressed normally, to be able to walk again without worrying about my high heels, about a tight skirt or about moving my bottom properly. I stepped out of the taxi, trying not to run. I was now sexually excited. Again. As always, each step would slightly compress my sex against the soft fabric of my underwear. Sandra had trained me to walk that way. Each step would make the inner side of my thighs slightly brush each other through my stockings. That was so delicious.

I found the key where it was supposed to be and walked up the stairs. It was going to work. My heart was pounding in my chest and I was breathing heavily: My husband had requested me to wear a tight corset that was limiting my breathing capacity. But, I was home free.

Carefully, I opened the door and got in. I closed the door behind me. And I came as I never did before. The wave of pleasure was so violent that I fell on my knees. Without thinking about it, my hands went on to my breast, cuddling my new born tits. I tilted my head backwards, biting my lips to avoid screaming. It had never been so good and so long. For sure, I'll miss the clothes. Finally, I managed to stand, all shaky from my orgasm. I switched on the light. I looked around. And wished to die.

 

Everything was at the same place as when I left. It was the same mess as usual: I have never been an organized boy. But it was all pink. The whole flat had been painted in pink: tables, chairs, walls, Hi-FI, bed, TV, ashtrays, books. Everything. Shaken, I went to my wardrobe. After all, all I wanted was to go away. I opened it and could not help but make a shriek of despair. Skirts, dresses, blouses, sexy underwear's, all of different types and shapes. Woman's cloth all over...

We have been waiting for you said Jack's voice behind me.

I jumped, turned around to find me face to face with Jack. That was too much, my mouth opened up to grasp some air. My hand went to the wall to help me stand up.

- Of course, I will have to punish you for that escape.

For a split second I thought about kicking the shit out of him. Hit him with all I had. But try to hit someone when you wear high heels, a tight dress that limits the movement of your legs, and a corset that compresses your lungs. I was trapped. Hopelessly trapped in my own clothes...

He grabed my ear and pulled me to the kitchen, painted pink as well. My uncle was here. They had fixed themselves dinner and where eating fried eggs. I was hopelessly trying to contain my tears.

I am not going back I said, a sob in the voice

You'll talk when you are told to, said jack.

That was too much for me. I could not contain my anger against him. Against everybody.

Now, I started, you shut up, you are in my place, you have made a mess of it. Beside, I am not talking to you.

She's got a point said Klaksky to Jack, before he could answer. Give her a break

Then he turned to me:

You are really such a good girl, he said. You have just been tricked by us, and you have the guts to make Jack shut up? You are good. But you are coming back with us. There is no other way

Why did you set me up?

We knew you would escape some time. We just wanted it to happen in a controlled way.

What do you want? To make me so desperate that I'll end up jumping out of the window?

You are taking it all too personal. After all what's happening? You are getting to wear expensive and comfortable clothes, to eat expensive food, to leave in a big house, and to learn a different way of life. I told you I'll give you money for it. Maybe Jack is a bit too hard on you, but its only two hours a day. Beside, I understand you are getting quite some pleasure out of your outfit. We have seen you entering your flat, and you really seemed to enjoy it. And you are really cute.

Especially when you are coming, added jack, with a vicious smile.

I blushed. Tears of shame flooded my eyes. They had been watching me all along. I could not take it any more and I started to cry like the girl I was being turned into. I just couldn't stand being a girl anymore. It meant so much, all the time. It meant walking carefully on my high heels so as to have a gracious walk and a gracious butt motion. It meant sitting gracefully, not to far back in the chair, because when I rest my back on a chair, it tends to pull up my skirt or my dress, showing the top of my stocking and the garter attach. It meant eating carefully so as to avoid messing up my lipstick. It meant controlling my facial expression all the time, smiling properly, being charming, spending hours a day dressing up, wearing make up... Being a girl was a full time job. I was having pleasure, yes, and Sandra was teaching me ways to have as much pleasure as possible. But fun, I had not.

- It's a state of mind, said Klatsky, as if reading my thoughts. It can be a lot of fun to be sexually attractive and to excite men, to charm people to get what you want out of them, to get things your way just because you are an attractive girl. And believe me, you have become a very attractive girl. If you want, I know a very good surgeon who…

- Shut up, I hissed, I'd rather die

- Should you change your mind, make me know.

I started crying again. I could not accept it anymore.

- How long is it going to last, I said between two sobs

- Not too long, said Klatski. A few weeks.

- Why is it so important to have me?

- Oh, it is simple. My enemies have been thinking that if I die, my properties will be shared between Julia and Pavel, my two legal children. As Pavel is not very clever, they figure they'll be able to trick him. Then Julia, with only half of my properties, will be less of a threat to them. Pavel is adopted as you know, so I can marry him with Julia. By marrying Julia and Pavel together, even if I die, my belongings will not be cut in two, and therefore, there is no reason to kill me. Therefore, it is important to show everybody that you and Pavel are a happy couple. You two are my life insurance.

- And if I refuse to cooperate?

- We will have to drug you. And it will leave scars, as you have probably already experimented.

 

They took me back to the movie. I returned to my sit, with my husband, who did not ask any questions. I got severe punishment the next day. Jack made me wear a special corset. It was of the type used by women at the end of the 19^th century, enclosing the whole body, from breast to butt. It had a knob in the back. Turning the knob would tighten the corset, mostly at waist level, but also at the bottom of the lung, pushing the costal bones inside.

He started to squeeze me. It was very uncomfortable at the beginning, limiting my breathing capacity. I had experimented corsets before, and I knew it was not comfortable. But then, it got much worse when the corset started to push my guts up toward my lungs, while pushing my coastal bones inside.

Master, I said it hurts, master

I know. I'll stop when you'll cry

It didn't take long before tears of pain rolled on my cheeks. He stopped and sat on a chair, leaving me standing in the middle of the room.

- now he said, bring your arms in your back, as if to make your shoulder blade touch.

I did as he said, pushing my elbow in the back. He moved behind me and did something to the corset.

- good girl. You may rest now

But I couldn't. He had tighten something in my back so that my shoulder blade could not come back to their normal place. My arms were pulled in the back, pushing my breast foreward, forcing my arms to rest along my body.. I watched myself in the mirror. I was so desperately wonderful. The corset was giving my body a perfect shape. As it was pushing my breast up, I looked like having a fair D-size. The lower part of the corset had garters and he had made me wear pink stockings. The work in the gym had given my legs a marvellous elongated shape that the high heels was making look even longer. My make up was perfect and the pain on my face was giving me a very noble aspect. All in all, I was very desirable.

I want you to have pleasure, now. You know…The way you usually do.

Master, I said, may I use my hands to caress me? Master

Your breast only

The vision of myself in the mirror had gotten me excited and, despite the pain, it was not real difficult to get me high. My hands went to my breast, and I started walking around, which would brush the fabric of my underwear against my sex. It was really good but, it could even be better. Suddendly, I just couldn't help it: sometime the girl in me was just taking over. I had to ask him.

Master, I said, a bit breathless, may I ask for a favour master

You may

Master, I'd like you to hold my breast, master

He stood up, walked behind me, put his hand on my breast and started to gently massage my tits. I threw my hands backward, to catch his hips. I rested my head on his shoulder, moaning a bit. Suddenly, I felt his sex growing hard against my back. Without realising what I was doing, I turned around and went on my knees. I opened up his zipper and put his sex in my mouth, while my right hand was reaching behind my legs. He came in my mouth quite quickly and I did at the same time, my two hands now between my legs, all pain forgotten. It was the first time we were having any sexual activity and it had been quick but real good.

But suddenly, he was behind me, pulling me up by the hair

I said you couldn't use your hands, you dirty girl

Master, I said, you were so good, don't punish me master.

He started to squeeze the corset again, and again. All pleasure forgotten, tears of pain came back, but he didn't stop. The pain was maddening, I couldn't breathe, my costal bones and all my inside were hurting, the muscles of my back were screaming agony. I fell on my knees, begging for mercy. He squeezed again; I could not even gather enough air to scream or to beg. He squeezed again and again until I fainted. He waked me up with a glass of cold water in the face; he attached my left foot to a chain and hanged me to the ceiling by my foot. He left me there, hanging upside down, my body compressed by this horrible torture corset, blood rushing to my head. I just couldn't figure what was more horrible. The pain, the position, or the thought of me taking immense pleasure in giving him a blow job.

 

Two months went by, and Julia was still not back. I was trying to have fun, as my uncle had suggested and was getting some. Not a lot, but some. I was also trying to get more involved in the meal time discussion, into their business. And I was quite successful at that. Sometime they would even invite me to some meeting, finding interest in my suggestions. Jack was a bit nicer with me but never went on the sexual path again. Too bad. I was still having a lot of pleasure by myself, but not as much as what happened that day. Life was better than the first month, but still quite close to hell.

It couldn't last forever. That morning, I was exercising in the gym. I was doing it in underwear's, as I was not allowed to wear anything like sneakers, or shorts. It is not very convenient to exercise with stockings and bustier, but it is better than to not exercise at all. A young bodyguard came to me.

Mr Klatsky wants to see you right now.

I change, and I come I said

He said immediately.

I was all wet and sweaty. I was wearing a sky blue shiny silk bustier and a panty to match with. My bustier and my stockings were drenched with sweat. I moved close to him. real close. I took his tie in my left hand and pulled his face down close to mine. My right hand took his gun under his arm.

- are you going to force me with this gun I said

Then I put the gun on a table and moved my hand between his legs

Or will you use this gun?

And I gave him a big kiss on the lips. I released the tie of the man, whose face was now redder than red.

You should hurry, madam, he managed to say.

And you should wash: you have lipstick all over the face.

He went even redder and headed to the lavatory. I took a towel and hanged it around my waist. I checked myself in the mirror: I was a mess but a very desirable one. I just looked as if I had been making love for hours, and wanting more. I was about to leave the gym, when I noticed the gun. It had been nothing but a joke for me, but the troubled guard had forgotten the damn gun. I smiled. It was going to be payback time. I hid it under a towel and quickly walked away, with no worry about moving my butt around anymore.

I got to the office. They were all there. My husband, Jack, my uncle, Sandra a bodyguard and...

- Julia, I said, surprised, you are back at last.

- Max she answered, what have they done to you?

- They have made me replace you. But now, that you are back,

- Well, she cut, upset; look at me very well. They forced me to come back but I won't stay. I don't want any of this. Don't expect me to help you out.

- You should convince her, said my uncle to me

I felt hot all of a sudden. Not excited, hot in the real sense of the term. Hot from my exercise to the gym, hot from the fast walk to the office, hot from the excitement, the pressure. My legs were sweating heavily, and my stockings were soaked. My breast was drenched as well, and I could feel my bustier sticking to my tits. My heart started to pulse faster: Payback time. I dropped the towel and pulled the gun.

- I won't convince anyone. This is not my problem any more. My only problem is who I am going to kill first for all I have been through.

Gone was the girlie tone I had to put in my voice all this time. I was glad to hear I could still speak as a man. Loud and clear. And deep.

- Kill them all, Max, said Julia, they are filth

The body guard made a move. I shot, and the bullet went right through his right shoulder.

You can't kill us all, said Jack, calmly. By the time you have killed one, the others will be on you

Then I'll kill you first

The gun was pointed to his face. He turned white, and made a step back. The voice of uncle Klatsky filled the room, calm, as always.

No one moves, She is not going to do anything silly. She knows what to do. She is such a good girl.

I was going to shoot him first, I hated to be called a good girl. He had been calling me a good girl all this time. I couldn't stand it anymore. The whole weight of what I had become fell on my shoulders. It was all so sick for a man to walk around in stockings, and get pleasure out of it three times a day. It was so sick to be in love with a brainless cousin and to feel happy having him in my ass or giving him a blow job. It was so sick for a man to be such an attractive woman he could seduce a bodyguard. So sick to be standing there, in full control of the situation with the nagging feeling that my make up was being washed away by my sweat. I had become a good girl indeed, but it was all so sick.

I was about to squeeze the trigger. I looked at him straight in the eyes. I was hoping to see fear, remorse, or at least some worries. But I didn't get any of this. He smiled at me, lovingly, caringly. And I knew what he meant. I understood everything, that there was only one way out, that there was no way back. I understood who to shoot!

Damn him! Damn them all! It was all so unfair!

And damn myself.

I changed my aim and I shot, I shot and I shot again, until the gun was empty. Now I could do what good girls do in such a case. I fainted.

 

It has been a year now since all of this happened. After I fainted, I woke up in a hospital. My uncle had hired the best surgeon in the best hospital. I had undergone a complex surgery. Transplant: a full woman's sex with all the things that goes with it had replaced my man's organs. My pelvic bones had also been replaced by woman ones so as to give me a wider butt but also to allow me to carry a child. By all means, the surgery had turned me into a full fledged woman. My uncle had spent a fortune on me, on this surgery, but after what I did, he couldn't do less for me.

It took me three months to fully recover from the operation and go back home. The mansion was indeed my home now. The first nights with my husband were pleasant, but I really discovered pleasure as a women with the other men of the house. I tried them all one by one. And the best of them was Jack. We indeed had a lot of fun together, and the way he was punishing me now was taking a completely different dimension. I also discovered that Sandra had resources far beyond my expectations, and toys that she had never showed me before.

I was now completely free to go anywhere anytime. I was taking active part in the family business, and I was a respected woman. I had gained the right to be one of them, and I had been rightfully admitted to contribute and take my share of the Klatsky business.

I was not getting pleasure from the clothes anymore, but I was getting fun out of them. It was so fun to light up men that I couldn't resist wearing stockings all the time. I am convinced anyway that a real woman has to wear sexy underwear or no underwear at all.

Just a year ago. I am in the cemetery now, and the rain just stopped. It was a heavy summer rain. The sun is back and the water evaporates in light fumes. As I walk in the cemetery, I can feel the vapour moving along my leg, building up under my dress. For this special event, I have decided to wear a knee high black dress, with no underwear.

It is the birthday of the day I decided to become a good girl. Did I decide or did I just accept it? It doesn't really matter. What matters is that I am happy. More than I have ever been.

I reach my grave, the grave that has my name on it. The grave of Max Steamish. My naked pussy is starting to feel warm and wet from the water fumes. It is all so strange to be a woman: it provides so many sensation, so many body reactions, so many feelings. The grave said I died at the age of 23, which is a bit young to die, but a wonderful age to be a girl. Inside my grave is Julia, killed by six bullets in the head. She is not completely dead, however, because that's her sexual attributes and pelvic bones that had been transplanted to me.

Killing her was my only reasonable choice. I had learned too much about the Klatsky business and way of life to expect them to let me go alive. And if I had killed Jack or my Uncle, then what? My husband would have forced me to stay and run the business with him, with always the risk of Julia coming back. Although emotionally I had all reasons to kill them all, logic prompted to only one decision. By killing Julia, Klatsky had no other way than to keep me alive, and to make me his own daughter for the rest of my life. Julia's death was my life insurance. So, I killed the only person that meant no harm to me.. It was a difficult decision, a decision only a good girl could make..

  

  

  

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