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Out Of The Blue

by Steffani St. James

 

The statement came from 'out of the blue'.

"Honey, would you like to go shopping?"

That was my wife; another request for me to be the taxicab for a shopping trip. I hated shopping trips. It wasn't the drive over to the mall. I usually found some way to entertain myself once we arrived. But when she would insist I tag along with her; watching her squeak hangers and look at literally hundreds of garments. Well, it bugged me. I always knew exactly what I wanted when I went to the mall. I would find it, pay for it and be back in the car on my way home in no time. But my wife seemed to have to agonize over every detail of a clothing purchase.

So, my reply to her was more of a 'ho-hum', here we go again. But then she really surprised me.

"The trip isn't for me; it's for you. Doesn't Krystyn need anything?"

Now "Krystyn" was the name I used when I dressed in feminine clothing. You see, I'm a cross-dresser; a male who enjoys wearing clothing usually associated with women. I not only enjoy dressing in feminine garb, I also like to wear makeup, wigs, jewelry, shoes, hosiery and everything else a genetic female might wear. In a way, that turns me on, relaxes me and allows me to feel more complete. I've been doing that for most of my life. I don't know why, but I do. Only four years ago did I finally admit to my wife what I was; why she found female garments that weren't hers sometimes lying in my bathroom. Forgetful me, I'd left them there accidentally. So, I quietly answered her.

"Well, er, Hon, "Krystie" could use some new things; underwear, and you know, next month I'll be going to that annual bash again."

"I figured as much. I've thought about your desire to dress femininely and also that since you are a guy, you never enjoyed all the things a girl enjoys growing up. So here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to help you get outfitted as a girl, from her earliest year's right up to your current, adult age. I've already taken the liberty of ordering a complete 'little girl's wardrobe' for you. I want to watch you squeal with delight at all the cute and ultra-feminine things I got as a little girl. Then, as I determine you're ready for further steps in your feminine growth, we'll shop appropriately, okay?"

How could I refuse? I eagerly agreed, happy that my spouse had finally accepted my altered ego.

 

"Follow me then. We'll need to make your body a bit softer and more feminine before trying on the things I've gotten you."

In our bedroom, my wife had me undress, stripping naked, and then ordered me to shower. She also handed me a bottle of depilatory lotion to make the process of removing my body hair easier; also, the results would be better, leaving me absolutely smooth for a longer time. I had to apply the lotion first, leaving a thick layer of the tingling cream on my skin for fifteen minutes. Then, I could step into the shower, rinse it off with all my hair and soap up and scrub my skin until it glistened soft and pink. I did exactly as she asked. When I was done, she stepped inside the small bathroom and carefully inspected me.

"Excellent! You look very sweet. Now, you'll need to be cleansed inside too! Juts like a little baby girl, I'll need to administer an enema so you'll be totally empty inside."

She had me kneel with my head touching the floor. After putting Vaseline on the tip of the enema nozzle, she deftly inserted it in my rectum. Then, she removed the clip from the rubber bag which she had hung from the top of the shower stall. Filled with a solution of very warm water and a liquid that would loosen and ease passage of the contents of my bowels, the bag began emptying into me. I felt I would burst but my wife extolled me to hang on and take it all! Then, she kept insisting I keep everything inside until SHE allowed me to evacuate myself! Straining to 'hang in there', I almost was brought to tears before she agreed to let me sit on the toilet and release what was inside me. I hurriedly moved onto the seat and let loose the flood of water and everything else. I felt so relieved when this was done. She wiped my bottom, just as if I were a baby, then with a pair of latex gloves on her hands, she ordered me to undergo another round of being filled and being drained. After the second load, my insides were as clean as could be, evidenced by the clarity of water issued from that nether world.

"Now, get back in the shower and wash again. When you're done, dry off and come back out and climb on the rubber sheet I've placed on the bed."

I did as she commanded. Again clean and dry, I padded out, climbed onto the bed and lay on my back. My wife appeared, holding a large pad – really, a soft diaper in a size meant for adults. She powdered my butt, rubbed lotion in my groin and folded the outsized diaper around and through my crotch. Using large safety pins, she secured the padding and then carefully worked a pair of crinkly plastic pants over it. The plastic pants were pink, ruffled at their leg openings and obviously made for a toddler girl. All the while, as she completed this task, she sung to me in 'baby talk' as if I truly were her 'baby girl'.

"Oooo, doesn't my widdle snookums wook so cute? A pwetty powdered diaper and pwetty pwastic panties – yummy, what a sweet widdle gwurl! Whets get you dwessed up for a pwarty!"

 

After adding more sweet-smelling powder to my body, she showed me a stretchy cotton vest and pulled it over my head. It clung to my chest and abdomen. Then, she rolled lacy anklets on my feet, thing nylon with lots of lace at their tops. Over my pink plastic pants, she pulled a gorgeous yellow nylon pair of 'rhumba' panties, the seat covered with row upon row of cute ruffles. Then, she had me stand and I found I couldn't walk. Instead, I sort of 'waddled' to make my way across the floor.

"Ooo, what a pwety widdle gurl you are thweetie! Wets get you into a pwetty swip and pwarty dress!"

I next found myself donning a full crinoline slip, rife with layers of ruffles. The dress was next. I had to raise my arms so they could slip into the short, poufy sleeves while the bodice and layers of nylon dropped into place. My wife tied a sash around my waist – which now seemed to fall just under my flat bust-line – and formed a huge bow behind me. Then, after telling me to sit and instructing me how to do that without wrinkling my dress, she placed white shoes – "Mary Janes" actually, on my feet and buckled them into place.

The finishing touches were a bit of foundation and setting powder, mascara for my lashes, blush for me cheeks and pink lipstick to give me a more girlish mouth. Then, she set a curly strawberry- blonde wig on my head and styled and sprayed it so it wouldn't lose its shape.

"There, now you're my cute widdle gurl, all pwettied up for a pwarty! Don't you wook thweet?"

I nodded.

"Thay it thweetie. Thay I fweel thweet and pwetty!"

I lisped her words. "Mummy, I wook tho thweet and pwetty."

"Tell em you wove your pwetty panties."

"Ooo, Mummy, I wove wearing my pwetty panties."

"Excellent! Now, Krystie, you'll stay dressed as a sweet pretty little girl for the rest of the day. Each day, from now on, I'll allow you to grow up a bit. I'll teach you to dress and look appropriate for the age I've determined you'll be until you become a beautiful young lady. Then, we'll school you in the arts of being a sexy woman."

Weeks passed. Bit by bit, I was allowed to "grow up", advancing through toddler-hood, the grammar school years, junior high and high school. I became more and more of a woman. Using breast forms of various sizes, I developed and learned all about having my 'friend', attracting boys and setting fashion styles. Finally the day came when she decided I should shop with her for the first time as a real female.

"Krystyn dear, how would you like to go on a shopping trip with me? It's time we develop your tastes as a mature female."

She didn't have to ask me twice. My hidden feminine instincts were always pleased to go shopping for attractive fashions for myself rather than just tagging along, watching my wife shop.

"Wear something easy to change out of too. Besides the usual stores, we're going to go to some specialty shops that I just know you'll love. And you'll be able to be quite at ease in those places, trying on some things for me."

I changed into a tee-shirt, khaki capris and loafers with a light jacket over everything. Then, we got in my car and headed for the mall. On the way, my wife made several suggestions as to what I should look at and hopefully buy.

"First, "Krystyn", I'm sure you need some new panties; the kind that have lots of lycra in them for support; and they must be nylon too, since that material is so soft and feminine; pinks and baby blues as well as whites should be your colors. You'll also need some matching bras too, I think you should get the under-wired style and I think we'll also get you a long-line and a torsolette too. I'm almost certain you'll need some firm-control girdles too; not the open-bottom styles but the high-waist panty girdles, even ones with side zippers. Yes, you'll also need some pretty slips; full slips as well as pettis for when you wear nice skirts. Oh yes, we must also get you some pretty ultra-feminine nighties too – baby dolls of course. Once we re-stock your lingerie and foundation drawer, we'll go to Josie's; you know, the new bridal shop? They're having a sale and I want you to be fitted for a really feminine bridal gown; one with a crinoline under-slip and a veil like a crown. They also have the cutest cocktail dresses and I want you to get one of those too."

"Once we've made those stops, we'll be visiting a place I'm sure you're quite familiar with; "Rena's" in Seymour. We need to get you some new shoes, some new really glamorous wigs and a new French Maid's outfit. I want you to begin serving me from time to time, helping me around the house. Having a sweet and saucy French Maid will be just the thing for weekends. Oh, and they have two other things you're going to need. One is a new set of attachable silicone breast prostheses. Ones that are the correct size for you; I'm guessing 44DD! Also, I want you to have one of those special latex caching things; the kind that not only give a male the look of a real vagina but they also allow you to go to the bathroom, seated. It should also have a built-in vaginal sleeve, just in case! Yes, I want my hubby to be as real a female as possible! Of course, if you want, I can get you a prescription for hormones and in the future you can get implants and have that useless thing between your legs and its two companions removed. Then you'll truly be all the woman you can be! I sense you'd like that too, baby!"

I was too stunned to speak. She was not just willing to help me shop. She virtually was creating an entire new wardrobe for me and with the items at Rena's, she would make me into a full-time girl! I thought about what she said – be a French Maid, a bride, a saucy lingerie model. She truly was making me into her sexy sissy girl friend!

We got to the mall and left the car. The store visits weren't too bad. She had all my sizes, did all the talking and paid for everything. She would ask if I liked something from time to time but whatever she had in mind, I would be getting that item. We finished the mall trip in just under two hours. Then, she announced we were headed home first before going to Rena's.

Once at home, I lugged all the packages, bags and boxes inside. Then, she ordered me to do one more thing.

"Krystyn, go into the bedroom, strip and take a shower; shave yourself again, completely, and rinse off. Make sure you also shave your face as closely as possible. I'll be inspecting you to insure you're absolutely smooth and soft. Then, we'll pick out the clothes I want you to wear for our visit with Rena. I want you looking as curvy, as sexy and as believably female for that part of today's shopping trip, understand?"

I did! I went to our room, undressed and then started the shower in my bathroom. I lathered up and scrubbed and then smoothed shave gel all over myself. Using three different razors, I removed every bit of masculine hair from my body. I had smooth "cheeks", smooth legs, smooth arms and armpits, a smooth chest and abdomen and if anything remained on my back, my wife removed it when she came into the bathroom. Once I was absolutely dry, she made me lie on my back on our bed. She removed two tissue-like pieces of paper, laid them on my chest and drew outline around each one. It was obvious to me that the outlines were right where breasts would be if I were female. Then, she removed the forms from their box. Each was huge! Each had equally large areoles and she squeezed some kind of smelly adhesive onto the back of each one. Then, she pressed each form inside the lines on my chest.

"Don't you move a muscle, sweetie, until these set up", she said.

Ten minutes later, she emptied another tube of what appeared to be a flesh-colored goop that matched the tone of my own skin. She smoothed the stuff between the gaps the breasts formed on my chest. After removing any extra goop, my chest resembled that of a genetic female. It was as if I'd been born with breasts!

"You can get up now, Krystyn. It's time to give your other end a feminizing. I've prepared this caching panty so all you have to do is to step into it; then, slowly work it up and make sure you insert your useless thingy in the elasticized sleeve inside. That's it! Slide it all the way in. Now, let me finish securing you in it. There, now you not only look like a girl, you can do everything we girls can do! That's right! You can pee like girl, seated. You can get aroused like a girl if you…or if someone else plays with your 'clit'; and, you can accommodate almost any man…or dildo in that nice, tight vagina of yours. Isn't that what you've always wanted? Of course it is."

I stood there, looking very attractive but dumbfounded. I thought she said we'd get these 'special' things at Rena's. She had them all along! She'd gone way out of the way to turn me into a female. Next, she outfitted me with the torsolette, lacing it so tight I could barely breathe. Then, she let me slip into a cute pair of "Rio" bikini panties. These were followed by a luscious shelf bra that forced my boobs up and out and really gave my figure a "boost". Gartered stockings followed and then she made me don a flippy mini-skirt and a tight-fitting black tank top. I had to wear a pair of strappy 4" heels and then sit while she did my makeup. She never used much on herself but on me, she used everything! I had big, doe-eyes, thin, unbelievably arched eyebrows, sexy shadow on my eyelids, liner on them too and multiple coats of mascara that thickened, lengthened and curled my own lashes up into a wide-eyed sensuous look.

A healthy dose of perfume came next followed by oodles of jewelry including big, glittery, dangling earrings. Finally, she pulled a tight-fitting wig cap into place on my head and produced a wig I hadn't seen before. It was a custom-ordered "big-haired", blonde "Bimbo" do that made me look so sexy I could have had an orgasm right there!

"Now, my 'baby' looks the way I want her to. Don't you feel good, Krystyn? Nice and sexy, aren't you? I'll bet you're ready to make it with a guy too, right? Wait till the girls in Rena's see you. They'll love the changes we've made. Let's get going, baby. I can hardly wait to see you walk and wiggle now!"

She handed me a huge purse, the atypical 'bimbo's' bag and we strolled out to the car.

"I'll do the driving", she said, "until you learn how to drive when you're wearing heels."

I slid in on the passenger side and she backed out of the driveway and headed for the entrance to the highway that led to Rena's. It took only twenty minutes and she pulled into the parking lot, down the street fork the store and around the corner a bit. I got out, stood up and together, we walked down the sidewalk. I heard my heels clicking with each step. My mini's hem kept fluttering in the breeze and I had to be cognizant of that, helplessly trying to keep my skirt from flying up and displaying my panties and garters!

Once in the store, my wife headed to the register in the rear and spoke to one of the girls there.

"Hi! I've brought my sweet hubby with me so we can pick out some really cute and femmy things for him. Of course, he's much less a "him" than a "her" right now so I'd like him addressed as a she if that's all right?"

The clerk wholeheartedly agreed and called me over.

"Why, Krystyn, you look absolutely stunning! I'm here to help you and your wife make a gorgeous girl out of you. First, we'll size you for a luscious French Maid's outfit."

The two women steered me to a rack that was bulging with cute satin maid's dresses. The clerk found a lustrous black one in my size, the size my wife had indicated. Then, she brought out a ruffled can-can petticoat, a choker, lacy cap and garter.

"These should be perfect for the darling sissy. What else would you like for her?"

My wife piped up, "she needs several wigs, big hair styles, in blonde or red shades and some peignoirs and baby dolls. I want her to look ravishing for when she takes a real man to bed for the first time!"

I was shocked but knew better than to open my mouth at that moment. But I now knew that this shopping trip was much more than an extended 'dress-up' game. I suspected that she was prepping me for a life-time as Krystyn, especially with he remark about hormones and implants!

We left the store with more packages, boxes and bags and my wife insisted we stop at a small restaurant for a bite to eat.

"Now, remember Krystyn, feel and look confident about your feminine persona and no one will suspect that you're anything BUT a luscious female. If a guy flirts with you, flirt back! If he hits on you, play it up. I want you to use every wile a woman has to lure a guy in. Do NOT disappoint me!"

I lowered my eyes and nodded my agreement. We entered the restaurant and were quickly seated by a waitress who acted as if we were both attractive females. I was told to order a light 'salad' as I should be watching my weight. My wife ordered a pasta dish. We each ordered diet soda and when our meals came, we dove in. Not once did any guys or anyone else pay any attention to me! After we finished, my wife paid the tab and we left.

"I imagine you're wondering why I'm doing all this. Why on earth would a wife want her husband totally and completely feminized to the point of practically living full-time as a female? I'll tell you. I know you can't help your desire to dress and pass as a woman. I understand that it, dressing and passing for female is important to you. I've decided that I'll no longer ignore that aspect of your existence. If you enjoy being effeminate and appearing in public as a woman, so be it! But you'll do so, properly! You'll also do so at home too. From now on, since you no longer have to head to the office each day, you'll spend each day as a female. You'll dress as one, bathe or shower as one, have your hair done as one. In fact, you'll live twenty-four hours a day as a woman. If you enjoy it so much, you'll get to enjoy it always! At some point, you'll inform the rest of the family about your new status. From now on, you'll be my constant female companion. You'll also serve as my own private 'maid' here at home. You'll be responsible for doing the dishes and laundry, ironing, washing out my…..and your own lingerie. And you'll do whatever I ask of you, willingly and with no backtalk or sassiness, understand?"

I again lowered my eyes in submissiveness and agreed.

"That's, Yes milady or Ma'am, understand?"

"Yes Ma'am", I quietly replied.

"Good; and understand this, if I decided that you've become feminine enough to remain a lovely lady, you WILL have some surgical enhancements. I'm thinking along the lines of a tracheal shave, voice modifications, implants and definitely hormone therapy. I want you to think of yourself as a genuine female from now on. Your days of living as a male in a male dominated world are over. You are my own prissy, sissy, feminine girl friend, my maid, lover and permanent companion. We'll mark this transition of yours with a special occasion – a bridal event with YOU as the bride!"

I blushed and thanked my wife for allowing me this opportunity. I knew that I would adore my new place. I swore I'd be the 'best girl' I could be forever and ever.

"We'll see, my sweet, we'll see", she said. When we arrive home, I want you to change into something sweet and sexy. Choose one of your new peignoirs and maybe slip into a crotchless thong panty too. I crave some 'girl on girl' loving. You DO know how to do that, don't you?"

I simpered that I did know how to please a woman – as a woman.

"Good, I'll be waiting in MY bedroom. Your bedroom is that newly remodeled room that once was a den. I bought a lovely new feminine bed, dresser, makeup table and armoire. All of your things will be put in there and your old, nasty male clothing will be tossed out. Your new life as a female has begun. Enjoy it!"

I went to the bathroom, sat like a female on the toilet and quickly finished my duty. Then, after wiping the front of my pubis, I disrobed completely and started the shower. I stepped inside and soaped my body, scrubbing it and caressing it, cleansing everywhere and everything. Then, I dried off with a fluffy towel and stepped into the scanty crotchless thong panty I had brought in with me. While I showered, I heard the door open and close. It was my wife, hanging the French Maid's outfit on the hook behind the door.

I powdered my body with the lilac talc. I also deftly inserted the pink jelly butt plug she'd left by the sink, into my derriere opening. Then, through years of practice, I expertly applied foundation, blusher and highlighter, shadow, liner and mascara. I outlined a fuller, sexier mouth and filled in that outline with a creamy, rich, moist lip color. I donned the black satin, steel-boned corsolette, slid my legs into the silky thigh-high sheer, back-seamed black stockings and attached their top welts to the dangling garter straps. I stepped into and locked onto my ankles, the 5" black patent stiletto-heeled pumps. I spritzed myself generously with the sweet-smelling perfume I found on the vanity. My attached breasts stood proud, forced up and out by bthe half-cups of the corsolette. I stepped into the lusciously ruffled can-can petticoat and slid my arms and body into the black satin maid's dress, tugging its bodice into place and zipping myself in from behind. I marveled how the frou-frou of the petticoat lifted and made the ultra-short hem of the dress stand out and away, showing off my long, shapely legs and hinting at the lovely feminine tush underneath. I pulled a wig cap in place on my head and used 'bobby pins' to fasten a beautifully teased strawberry-blonde coiffure on my head. I then opened the door and sashayed over to her bedroom. After knocking and being asked to come in, I saw my wife standing, legs akimbo, dressed entirely in shiny black latex! The nipples of her breasts were visible through the openings in her brassiere! Her waist was nipped by a corset that did two things besides cinching her in; it lifted and thrust out those gorgeous boobs and held her black latex stockings up with its garters! She had a full cap over head that revealed just her expertly made up face. The cap matched everything else in her costume – shiny black latex rubber! And, she held a crop in one hand.

"Come in, my sweet sexy sissy prissy slut. It's time to show your mistress just how well you can please her!"

I bowed submissively, ready to assume whatever position my dominant wife asked me to assume. I was her slave.

"My, my, you look adorable, Krystie! But I sense you need some "stripes" so you will truly understand the new order you're entering. Lift that pretty dress and petticoat and expose your lovely derriere and lay over my lap."

I did as she commanded and felt the lash of her crop as it slapped my bar rear end. She delivered ten strokes of that riding crop. Then, as quickly as she had begun, she stopped and caressed my reddening behind.

"There, there, sweet thing. Do not cry. Your tears should dry away now that you truly understand who is in charge and who must obey. You are 'Krystie', my darling boudoir maid; the girl who washes my undies and makes my bed and helps to bathe and dress me. As long as you please me, you'll do no dirty work within this house. However, if you disobey or do your work poorly, you'll be given nasty jobs more befitting a kitchen slut. You'll not like that, I assure you. Now, kneel and worship the seat of my femininity. You don't have one…..and you may never have one. But, if you behave and pleasure me properly, I may allow you to advance in your feminine life to where you too, will enjoy the pleasures of womanhood."

I truly was a neophyte at this, never having engaged in any sub-dom relationships and amazed that my wife even approached this scenario. She was always such a sweet, unassuming person. Now, she'd completely feminized me, made me into a prancing, prissy sissy maid and was making me sexually arouse her in a manner I figured she would have never even considered. So I was totally flabbergasted. On the other hand, the side of me that totally felt liberated by expressing my ultra-feminine side simply adored being turned into a simpering, cowering submissive. I loved the flouncy feel of my nylon ruffles, the exquisite sexiness of my smooth nylon-encased legs, the cool, tightly fitting satin of the black maid's dress, the enforced arches of the stiletto heels and the total sense of being a lovely girl.

I knelt between her open thighs. She adjusted her latex-covered legs and pointed to her glistening sex, the pubic hairs outlining her moist nether lips.

"Show me how much you love me, baby. Lick me and then flick that girlish tongue of yours on my 'clittie'. I want to experience the ultimate in female orgasm. WE won't be making love in the male-female mode. We WILL be enjoying the divine tastes of "Sappho" here. And if you're very, very good, I'll think about seeing to it that you too, get the chance to enjoy the joys of lesbianism!"

 

I pressed my heavily lipsticked mouth to her scented lips, licked the edges of the pink flesh and quickly flicked my tongue on her tiny 'button'. She shuddered and sighed as I speeded up my oral ministrations. The faster and deeper I tongued her, the harder she pressed that fount of femininity into my face. I sensed her juices flowing like a river as she literally screamed for "Krystie" to eat her! Then, after fifteen minutes of making her cum, she eased back, sated.

"Ooo, my pretty girly baby, you are soooooo good! I really DO want you to be my 'girl'. I really DO want you to have the prettiest, most luscious boobs of any girly girl. And with your figure trimmed down to a darling ultimate girlish size, I'd love you to have a cute cleft like real girls have. Then I can lick you to a girlish orgasm too. I do not want to taste your useless thingy. But I understand if you need relief. In a few moments, the doorbell will ring. It will be a surprise I've arranged for you. 'He' will willingly take you like you took me. Clean yourself up, fix your makeup and straighten your dress and answer the door when he arrives. Take him to your bedroom and treat him as you just treated me. Suck his manhood to make it grow long and hard. Then, give him a BJ he'll never forget. THEN, let him do you! He will most certainly make a woman of you and you'll be a girl forever after."

Juts as she'd explained, a guy did ring our bell. I minced to the door in my maid's costume, let him in and le him to my bedroom. I watched as he stripped and got between his hairy thighs. I licked and sucked him to the verge of his climax. Then, he did the same to me. And finally, he rolled condoms on both our tools; his, large and thick, mine small and shriveled. Then, he lubricated my entry and his manhood and plunged the shaft into me. His humping and pumping filled his condom with his juices. Mine was filled too, but I merely felt happy that I'd pleased him. I felt like a sexy girly girl; not like a man who'd gotten release.

After he left, my wife told me to shower and change into my nightie – a sheer baby doll that barely fell to my navel. I wore a thong and nothing more. We cuddled for awhile and then fell asleep in one another's arms. The first day of the rest of my life came to a close.

The next morning, after I'd awakened, my wife old me how great I'd been. I'd passed her test! She would arrange for my RLT and SRS. And once I'd completed that, I would be allowed, no encouraged and even forced to find a real man so I could experience being a real bride! Next year at this time, she would help me shop for my gown and serve as my matron of honor! She'd arrange for the divorce, a legal necessity, so I could marry as a lovely woman. It was amazing what came "out of the blue" as a result of my life's desire to be a girl!

Well, the year passed quickly. I got a job as a receptionist. Each morning, I showered, made myself up perfectly and dressed in fashionable clothing. All the guys and even the gals at work took notice of me, the tall, shapely female in her tight fitting skirt, figure hugging and defining tailored jacket, her long legs clad in sheer shimmery hose and her high heeled stilettos 'clicking' on the tiled floors as she walked. I did meet a guy who adored me.

After my surgery, I took even more interest in men, finally succumbing to a handsome guy's proposal. There was a bridal shower arranged by my girlfriends at work. My former spouse accompanied me to a bridal shop where I got to try on almost twenty gorgeous gowns, settling on one. It had a 'sweetheart neckline', a basque waist, and was adorned with myriad seed pearls and beads. The dress had a bustled back with a huge bow and a cathedral train. My 'ex' gushed over the details of all the 'underwear' I would need to wear! I loved modeling the scanty white satin thong with its "open crotch"! With my corset tightly binding my now already slender waist, my stockings held up by satiny suspenders, a full crinoline fluffing out the voluminous satin skirt of the gown and my feet slipped into impossibly high satin heels, I was a dream to behold. My former wife called me a virtual "Barbie"! And I felt like "Barbie" too! With all the surgery and enhancements completed, I stood 6' 5" tall in my heels, had an impossible 44DD-24-40 inch figure, and was in every respect, a real woman. Some of the gals at work called me that "Amazon" behind my back. But they also demonstrated their jealousy too.

For myself, not ever having truly 'enjoyed' a man, I practiced with a nine inch long dildo! I would lubricate it and work it into my new vagina, working myself up to shuddering orgasms that made me shiver. I knew then that my decision to go this far, encouraged by my 'ex' was the correct one. I truly was a girl, just as I'd always wanted to be.

My wedding was one right out of a storybook, my husband, the Prince and I, the Princess. Although I began my life as woman, rather late in years, my transition from male to female went wonderfully. My husband adores me, our sex life is fantastic and I simply love being a glamorous female for him.

After we'd been married for two years, I remembered my former wife's suggestion. So, 'out of the blue', I'll be training him to like 'pink'! I've acquired some things and tonight, I'll begin the process of feminizing MY baby! I can hardly wait to see him in HIS pwetty panties and dwesses.

  

  

  

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© 2004 by Steffani St. James. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, and compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without the express written consent of StorySite and the copyright holder.