Roger’s Plight      by Constance Grant
Copyright © 1999, 2000 by Constance Grant Manasquan, NJ all rights reserved

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is unintended.
Any comments are welcome.

This is book one of a trilogy. It’s a complete story, although I’ve provided the teaser for book three at the end. I received several requests to tell Roger’s side of this story, and that will be posted next in book two.

This story contains adult situations, describes sexual activities, and deals with cross-dressing. While this story is not XXX, it truly deserves an X rating. In addition, there are two incestuous incidents described but not dwelled upon. If such material upsets you, or if it's illegal for you to read this - DON'T.

 

Roger’s Plight                            by Constance Grant          ConnieBabe69@hotmail.com 

 

Book 1 – Catherine’s Story

Realization, the First Step

I often sit back and think, "I wish I’d done that," and find out later that I already have. Richard Harris, 1932

Roger and I had been married for five years, and our relationship was going in the trash fast. Girls I know others of you out there are in a relationship as hopeless as mine was, if the following sounds familiar a happy solution is yours for the grasping:

Roger was always a poor lover:

His dick just wasn’t large enough to please even a schoolgirl.

He had absolutely no staying power.

He didn’t like to give head, and always refused me when I asked, in all honestly, at times I even begged.

He absolutely took me for granted!

To make matters worse he felt inadequate at work as he tried to compete. The competition and feelings of inadequacy literary drove him to drink.

In four years he gained sixty-five pounds, from his one hundred and fifty five pounds, athletic, five foot eight frame when we were married.

He secretly liked to wear my undies and masturbate in them (as if I didn’t know.) He was so selfish he wouldn’t even share his fetishes with me.

Dear reader you might ask, why did I marry this looser? What can I say, I loved him, and I still do. Besides, at the time we married he was kind, sensitive, good humored, funny, and was quite wealthy. At the time I intervened in a positive way, I wasn’t even sure he was wealthy.

Nancy Walker is my best friend in the whole world and lives in San Francisco. Unfortunately, because of her schedule, we had only talked to one another on the phone for years. At the University, she was my big sister in our sorority, and as she became a physician and I a surgical nurse, we were roommates for my full five years. You can understand we had no secrets from one another.

Shortly after Roger married me, it was clear he was just not satisfying me, so naturally I tearfully confided in Nancy. She gave me the absolutely best advice. "Catherine baby, find a married surgeon who is well horned, and make it clear to him that all you want is sex, not homemaking."

I did, have you ever noticed surgeons have the greatest hands? For the past five years Mike and I have done everything we could imagine several times a week. His other half is most unsatisfactory, having at least two of the four problems Roger used to have. But with the aid of a cook, two maids, a social secretary and nanny, she is an adequate homemaker. Besides, she makes children, (but disdains sex,) and is socially connected. So it’s not in Mike’s interest to dump her, as long as I continue to fill his other needs. Let me tell you, confidentially, he is a fucking stud. He is funny, gentle, blond, six two, one ninety of pure muscle and hung like a stallion. BUT with exquisitely sensitive hands and nature – it’s a very satisfying arrangement for both of us.

Roger never suspected I had a lover. How could he? He would attempt intimacy every few days when we were first married, but by the time I intervened it was every month or so. Mindful of our prenuptial agreement I never refused him, even if my friend was visiting – letting him pump away whenever the spirit moved him, it never lasted more than two or three minutes anyway.

Nancy finally visited for a weekend a year ago while she was in New York City attending a symposium. Roger did all his disgusting tricks while she was visiting, and seeing the situation she gave me her usual good advice.

Over cocktails at our golf and tennis club, Nancy started out by asking me, "Do you remember Billy from the sorority house?"

"Christ, how could I forget Billy, he gave the best head I ever had, his tongue was absolutely insatiable. It makes me wet just to think of it."

"Think back. Do you have any idea why he lived in our house as a serving girl all those years?"

"Not really, I never thought about it, it was enough he was there when needed. Come to think of it, he did make kind of a cute girl though."

"When I was a freshman we noticed him sneaking into the house and stealing our undies, then he would crouch outside our windows looking at us and jerk off into them. Do you remember Beth?"

"Yes, hadn’t thought about her in years. What did she do?"

"She took flash pictures of him outside Paula’s window while she was giving him a show. He panicked and fell off the porch roof. He was unconscious when we took him into the house and decided to teach him a lesson. When he recovered consciousness he was dressed in our undies and makeup, everybody contributed something, totally uncoordinated; he was such a sight we threatened to call the police. He begged and pleaded with us not to, he said he would do anything for us. Anything! Catherine baby, do you see where I’m going with this?"

"Yes I do. You may just have saved our marriage." After all Roger’s mother had me sign one nasty prenuptial agreement, and was living in Florida just waiting for a chance to enforce it.

We sat down then and there and outlined the plan to help Roger discover his true self, and it sure as hell wasn’t as the stud king. As Nancy left for her conference Sunday night, she told me to expect ‘Care’ packages to begin arriving Tuesday.

I kept a log of events in the form of brief narratives, as I read through them today, I don’t like myself very much. However, outside of grammatical changes I left them as written. The perceptive reader will see how absolute power corrupts, and perhaps avoid that pitfall.

Tough Love

However it is debased or misinterpreted, love is a redemptive feature. To focus on one individual so that their desires become superior to yours is a very cleansing experience. Jeanette Winterson (1959)

The first package was from NYC. It was a fancy remote controlled camcorder with a three-foot fiber-optic lens. Nancy must have spent a fortune, but when I said something about paying her for it, she replied, "Catherine baby, let me do this for you, you are my best friend in this entire world, and this is the least I can do. However, I am interested in the San Francisco Canine Society, perhaps a small donation in our name." Nancy is so helpful; I sent a thousand dollars in her name to the dogs.

Roger liked to ‘dress and jerk’ in the large downstairs powder room, where he thought I couldn’t hear him. It was a simple matter to poke a hole through from the hall closet, and feed the lens into the bathroom, just about, where I had a shelf with knickknacks. Have you noticed? Men never pay attention to them. Over the next four weeks I captured Roger no less than fourteen times in the act. Several times he passed out from drinking too much – he looked like one of those cartoon dancing-elephants with a tutu, as he snored and grunted on the bathroom floor. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t want him in my bed soused, but I was a trifle miffed that he preferred the bathroom floor to it.

I had the lock on the bathroom door changed so I could open it from the outside. While passed out (his sleep made deeper with a little shot of chlorpromazine) I posed him in various outfits, even being so bold as applying makeup crudely as he might. I left it on him, but he had removed it each time, before I saw him the next day. The camera had video output so I hooked it up to an unused channel on our satellite system, that way I could see Roger on our bedroom TV.

True to her word, Nancy sent me several additional boxes of essentials from San Francisco, and with the things I had picked up locally – well I was ready for the next time Roger passed out.

I thought the whole thing through very carefully, from every angle. I was actually teetering on the edge of not going through with it, when I looked in my panty draw for a pair of panties to wear – so many were all stretched out, virtually unusable. Can you believe it, one was put back loaded with crusty cum; I just don’t know what he was thinking.

That did it, Roger was history, and Bridget was about to be born.

Week 0

Roger passed out on Thursday night and I took additional Polaroid pictures to add to the hundred and fifty or so I already had. I removed my once lovely cum stained panties entirely from him. Then I fastened a cute little testicle restraint on his useless disgusting hairy balls. Wincing a little at the thought of the pain this diabolical device could cause, I tied its control chain to my belt. Then I put a belt with fur-lined manacles for each wrist on him, followed by fur lined ankle restraints, which limited his stride to fifteen inches or so.

I poured water on his head and the pig moaned and peed on the floor. Well, I’m not going to clean it up, I promised him. Eventually he woke up and I got him to his feet. He started to get sick and I pushed his head into the bowl until he finished. It was only then that he realized he was restrained – and that I had him by the balls.

He started to complain loudly, and I tugged fairly hard on his cute little testicle restraint, he doubled over with a gasp. When he stopped squealing I told him to shut-up and come upstairs with me. It only took a few more little tugs on his balls to get him quietly moving. Girls, if you don’t have one of those little things, get one, they’re magic.

Anticipating his mess, I had a shower curtain on the floor at the foot of our bed, and I had him sit on it. The colors clashed horribly, but who expects to use a shower curtain in the bedroom? I resolved to purchase something more harmonious first chance. Fastening a dog’s collar around his neck and chaining it to the brass rail at the foot of our bed I smiled a little. I was very glad now that I had insisted on having a sturdy brass king size four-poster when we furnished this room. I tied his balls to the bottom rung of the bed. He could only move his head a few inches and his butt not at all; clearly, I had his undivided attention as we watched home video for an hour or so.

I almost felt sorry for the miserable half-drunk bastard; after all I loved him – after a fashion. After the video show he agreed to do what ever I asked, so I released his right arm and had him sign twenty or so medical release forms. Then I had him read and sign a confession admitting that he would cross-dress, and then to cruise gay bars for tricks (Nancy’s touch.) Surprisingly his little thing was got hard (relatively, you understand) as he read that.

In the last section he admitted to being a woman in a man’s body, and begged me to help him achieve his dream of being a woman in a woman’s body. Then I focused the camcorder on his face to record the moment for the record. He really did a very convincing job, he had real tears in his eyes at the right dramatic time, and it made me wonder. He was reluctant looking into the camera at first, but that cute little testicle restraint was everything Nancy said it would be

I told him that from now on he would do everything I told him to, cheerfully and willingly – or face the consequences. If he tried my patience too much, I would very publicly divorce him, and with this tape, I could break our prenuptial agreement. My lawyer had told me NOTHING would break that agreement, but Roger didn’t know that.

I led him into our bathroom and had him shower after I removed the restraints, except for the cute little testicle restraint of course. I did his back and helped him dry off in a most loving way. Then I reapplied his restraints, padlocked his dog collar chain to the sink’s drainpipe, and his ball’s leash to the hook on the ceiling that I normally have a lovely spider plant hanging from. The chain from the testicle restraint was almost long enough for him to lie on the floor comfortably. When he complained I told him that was ‘one,’ and went into the bedroom for a penis ball gag, and put it on locking the little padlock at the rear. His eyes said it all.

I was pretty wound up by then as you may well imagine, and as it was only ten PM on the coast I called Nancy, and we discussed the entire thing for an hour or so. She reassured me I was doing the right thing, and that I should take a sleeping pill to get a good nights rest. I did, it would be a busy day tomorrow.

Waking about eleven to the sound of the doorbell, I answered in my nighty, as expected it was Mike with his surgical bag. We hadn’t been together for several days so when we reached the bedroom I took his clothes off in full view of Bridget to be. Well, we had to change to greens anyhow. I gave Mike a great blowjob from my knees (something I had steadfastly refused to do for Roger.) Mike likes to start that way half the time; the other times, he returns the favor. I told you he is a treasure.

Then Mike looked over all the forms and walked over to my girl to be saying he had a full day of surgery ahead of him. Mike winced as he examined the testicle restraint saying, "He will be glad to loose those, if you keep this on him."

We both started to don greens, and Mike looked at me saying, "Ah hell," and threw me on the bed and fucked my eyes out. After that we were both pretty loose and ready to begin on my girl to be.

I wheeled in a rented high gurney from its hiding place in the second floor guestroom. We moved him onto the gurney, secured the restraints, and prepared for several simple procedures, most of which didn’t require a surgeon of Mike’s skill. However I think you can see I really value my girl to be. While Mike scrubbed in the hall bathroom, I gave a really terrified but unresisting girl to be a healthy shot of chlorpromazine. Not surprisingly she went out like a light, and I removed her gag.

I will describe what was done in non-medical terminology, should any of you girls out there be interested, I can provide precise details.

First the most complicated procedure was to surgically partially sever the muscle at the base of the penis. In Roger’s case over time it stretched a good inch in length when hard, but more importantly the weakened muscles would let it hang straight down. It would still be a puny thin little thing, but perhaps just right for anal stimulation I mused. Mike agreed it definitely would be the right tool for that job.

Then my girl to be had her foreskin removed except for a flap on its underside, and it had a half-inch gold ring inserted and clamped permanently closed (short of cutting it off.) It must have hurt going through the sensitive nerves in the new clitoris as my girl to be moaned even under sedation. But it was firmly attached well into the meat of her clitoris, as it needed to be to stand strain it might experience.

Then a series of eight little rings were attached on either side of my girl to be’s balls, the intention here was to secure my girl to be’s ovaries into her body cavity as one would lace shoes. I had toyed with removing the ugly hairy things entirely, and had his signed release to do so, but I thought it would be fun to have her make that her choice as her true nature evolved.

Then another half-inch secure ring was attached under her ovaries between her legs with the intention of fastening my girl to be’s clitoris to it just about all the time. This would allow her to sit naturally and pee without using her hands, just a dainty wipe as usual and nature would be satisfied. Nancy assured me it would also curb her tendency to play with herself.

Then at Nancy’s suggestion, Mike attached another half-inch gold ring permanently and securely to my girl to be’s belly button. Nancy thought it would be fun to attach my girl to be’s clit to this ring when she wore hip-huggers and a short blouse. You know when I want to let everyone know all about my Bridget.

Finally my girl to be had her ears pierced in three places on each ear. One earring on each ear said Catherine’s in small letters around the top and sides of the ear, and the other hole on each ear was filled with conventional topaz studs. I thought they would bring out her eye color.

My girl to be, had a catheter inserted which drained urine into a bag, and then we lifted her hips and placed a pad in case of an accident. We intended to sedate her at least for the rest of the weekend so significant pain wouldn’t be her first memory as Bridget.

Last, I gave her healthy injections of hormones to get begin her transformation, started a dextrose saline drip, with added codeine and phenobarbital to keep her happily sedated. Finally I strapped her securely down.

I had to remove the bottom of my greens as my girl to be spritzed me with pee while Mike was fiddling with her; it didn’t distract Mike much while he operated, but when my girl to be was done Mike smiled and said, "Let’s grab a quickie." I must confess that the absolutely best thing about Mike’s quickies - is they seldom last less than a half-hour.

Week 1

As it turned out my girl to be didn’t fully wake until Tuesday evening as I was coming home from my shift. By this time all her tissue was healing nicely, nevertheless I replaced the loose dressings and antibiotic ointment on all sites just to be on the safe side. She was groggy, but awake when I removed the catheter and cleaned her bottom saying this was the last time I was doing that for her. I put her ankle restraints on telling her I would spare her the testicle and wrist restraints, if she were a good little my girl to be.

Then I released her restraints to the gurney. Poor thing was so weak I really needn’t have worried. I had her put on an ugly long line bra from the fifties, Nancy said it was a genuine antique, regardless I put heavy silicon sacks to pad out her ‘C’ cups.

Then I explained she was still a fat pig and had to wear a fat ladies dress and stockings until she thinned down, BUT not to feel too bad, as that won’t take too long. She put on a cheep-cotton slip and black ‘old peasant lady’s’ dress. You know the kind that buttons down the front, with thick support stockings tied at the knee to stay up. Then I had her wear lace up, black medium heels to match her dress, and reapplied the ankle restraints. She was slouching worse than usual and I warned her to stand straight or the testicle restraint was going back on. She did.

You have to understand I am not a cruel person at heart, my profession is helping people, and I’m very good at it. I convinced myself, that what I was doing here was sexual tough love.

We went downstairs, and over a three dry ounces of vitamin-enriched oatmeal, I explained to my girl to be our new relationship. I told her until I explicitly said otherwise, she should address me respectfully as Catherine dear or dearest, dear or dearest Catherine with her eyes directed at my feet, I wouldn’t respond positively to anything else. AND would get very cross with her if she persists in exhibiting disrespectful behavior.

Second she was on an exercise regime complimented by a crash 900 calorie (to start with) per day diet. She was responsible for washing our clothes each night and would sleep on the floor in another identical slip. Except for when she was in the shower, she would wear one of her two long line bras.

She looked directly at me and asked, "Cathy, what the hell were you doing with Mike?" I took a rod from the table and told her to put out her hands and hold them still. Then I gave her knuckles several sharp raps, waiting each time for her to hold her hands steady. I said mildly "How should you address me?"

The cheeky Bridget still didn’t do it right. I mildly said, "Finish your oatmeal, and lets go upstairs."

You have to understand Bridget used to hate oatmeal, but it was the first solid food for five days, and she did finish it along with a thirty two ounce glass of water. She would be drinking a lot of water over the next few weeks, at least two gallons a day.

You might wonder why Bridget didn’t just overpower me; after all I am five foot five and all of 110 pounds. At this point Bridget was a good 220 pounds and quite strong. Well even a totally healthy Roger learned I’m fast as hell, bite, usually go for the balls – and know all the pressure points.

When we got upstairs I had Bridget stand in front of my full-length mirror and tell me what she saw – in detail. Then I told her to raise her dress, pull down her cheap cotton panties, and then tell me what she saw. I confess I took small pleasure in the look of panic in her eyes.

I told her, "I like your little clit much better this way, it will be much easier to clean now, and I don’t like cocks with a foreskin. In case you’re interested that was why I would never give you a blowjob, and as you could see I love giving blowjobs to a real man." She winced when she touched the ring on her clitoris, and I assured her that when the time came she would learn its purpose.

While she was standing with her panties down, I snapped and clipped on the testicle restraint to her scream, "There, you know what you have to do, and what will happen if you make me cross."

I asked her to bring her gag to me and to ask me if I would please put it on for her. I saw a flash of defiance, but she brought it to me, and in a sarcastic tone of voice asked that I put it on for her. I smiled and told her that she had clearly graduated from that puny half inch diameter cock insert, and went to my bottom draw and selected a gag with a one inch diameter two inch long cock attached to the ball. Bridget turned pale when I asked if she would prefer the one next to it – an inch and a half diameter, five-inch long cock with balls, and an elastic head strap.

Bridget asked me very nicely, and handed me the one-inch model. I had Bridget pee and brush her teeth, and then I said I had a special treat for her. I lifted my skirt, pulled down my panties, and played with myself using the little cock, getting it and the cute red ball soaked with my love juices. Then I put the gag on my Bridget noting her dress was sticking out. I told Bridget I would severely discipline her if she played with her clitoris, and that I would know. Just to be on the safe side since her cock hadn’t completely healed, I put the belt with the wrist restraints on her. Then I secured her dog collar to the sink leaving enough room so she could pee. The ring in her cock wasn’t ready for any strain yet, so that might be messy. Well she was going to clean the bathroom anyway.

Before I left I told Bridget to imagine it was Mike’s cock in her mouth all night, after his giving me the fuck of my life. Just to emphasize her helplessness I ended with, "And you better not pee on the floor during the night."

I confess to being a little excited about how well things were working out, and put my self to sleep with my butterfly vibrator humming away. What I really needed though was Mike’s beautiful cock.

Week 3

I was very good to Bridget, and gave her rings and things fourteen days to fully heal, then I had her lay down on the guest room bed, which had a warm pastel (a color that matched the décor I noted with satisfaction,) shower curtain laid out on it. I propped Bridget up comfortably on several pillows, and with the aid a hand mirror; I explained to her the purpose of all the rings. I told her I would do it for her once, and if she didn’t do it properly herself the next time that I would be cross with her.

She was catching on it didn’t pay to have me cross with her. First I applied Nair to her hairy ovaries and left her while it worked its magic. After rinsing and drying the now presentable ovaries thoroughly, I tucked them up where they belonged, out of sight. Then I placed a piece of cotton over the opening and using a thin cotton shoelace and little gold rings I neatly tied them inside. Just like lacing shoes. Then I took a darling little gold padlock and locked her clitoris to the ring between her legs below where her ovaries were. I had to stretch it a little but it was just right, considering Mike said it would stretch more over the next few weeks.

I told her to be sure to thank Mike the next time she saw him. She looked very pale, and I told her to rest for a few minutes before she took a pee with her new plumbing, and to be sure to call me to watch. It worked so well I couldn’t resist giving Bridget a great big hug.

Now that Bridget was fully healed it was time to begin her exercise program. I won’t give details here, but the exercises were designed to flatten her slowly shrinking tummy, shape her pitiful butt, and increase her flexibility. Eventually she was vigorously exercising two hours a day. We also added walking and squatting in heels for several hours each day while balancing two books on her head. Initially she complained once that her ovary hurt when she squatted, but when I tightened the laces and had her try it some more, she didn’t complain again.

I had her brush her almost shoulders length mouse brown hair two hundred strokes each day. She pulled it back in a high ponytail as I sometimes wore mine, without even being told – I was so pleased I gave her a jeweled barrette to hold it. I also started her training to stand still and not to fidget.

I spent two days looking into our finances; it was then that I found out just how much of an asshole Roger had become.

Since our marriage our arrangement had been, all my salary was mine to spend on myself, being prudent I saved what I would have spent on rent each month, and had a nice little portfolio. In addition I had an American Express and Visa cards that he paid monthly.

It was my understanding his salary at the Computer Company was barely more then it had been when we were married, but he paid all our household expenses out of it. Since Roger wouldn’t be working, I called and talked to his boss, Meg Holling, and told her he would be out for an extended period with a kidney problem. She told me he had quit months ago, but would have been fired for his drinking in any event. However, if he ever quit drinking they would consider taking him back, and hung up. She sounded like a whiney surly boss; maybe she had contributed to Rogers drinking. I became a little concerned about a roof over our heads, and then I looked deeper.

Our house was worth at least a million and it had been a wedding gift from his mother so I figured there was no mortgage. I was surprised to find that the house was actually an asset of a trust fund, which also paid all other costs of ownership like maintenance of the house and grounds, utilities, insurance, and taxes. It also paid our club memberships, a five thousand stipend, and charges as they were family memberships, and all associated taxes.

Okay, we will have a roof over our head. Looking at his banking statements I saw a deposit of ten thousand was made the first of each month, looking deeper I found that was from another trust fund, humm, mommy dearest didn’t trust Roger with lump sums. I didn’t even know this source of income existed.

Up until two months ago, there were bimonthly deposits of three thousand two hundred, which was exactly what he told me his salary was. I could find no savings account or portfolio.

What the hell was he doing with all that money? Where was he going the past two months when I thought he was at work? Does the worm have a mistress? That wouldn’t be bad, my lawyer made sure the prenuptial was void if he publicly kept a mistress.

I found a key and remembered he went to the basement frequently. To make a long story short, dummy had a monster gambling problem. The only good thing was his bookie and card room didn’t extend him credit, they weren’t greedy, they settled for a steady twelve to fifteen thousand a month from the jerk. Jesus, how stupid is he?

I called the bookie and card room and told them Roger was real sick, and made sure he didn’t owe them anything. He didn’t, in fact the bookie owed him a few thousand as a horse hit, he would mail it to me. Now, he really was sincerely sorry to hear that Roger was sick.

All I told Bridget, was that all our finances were being taken care of, and for her not to worry her pretty little head about them.

Week 4

Bridget had been taking oral hormones daily, hormone cream rubbed into her breasts, but her blood work indicated she could stand a weekly injection in addition. She had lost close to twenty-five pounds, and could now fit into the largest hourglass-laced corset Nancy had sent to me. I don’t think Bridget was as happy as I was, but with Mike’s help Bridget was securely laced in. Nancy recommended that initially Bridget should wear the corset for seventy-two hours straight, tightening it once or twice a day as needed.

Bridget had to agree that her figure and posture had improved dramatically with it. I decided to give her a treat. I unlocked the little gold padlock and for the first time in over a week her cute little gold ringed clitoris was free and rising. I had her go to my draw and get a rubber and my discipline rod.

Mike and I were curious as to how things would work with the ovaries inside, but all went well. I let Bridget come almost to organism five times before I slapped the little thing with my rod, very hard. Then I tired of the game and let her milk it. She must have been ready as she filled up the rubber’s tip and much more. That night I tucked Bridget in on the floor by the foot of my bed wearing her new corset, with the one inch ball gag soaked with Mike’s and my juices – and since she begged so nicely (after prompting) the contents of her rubber.

Bridget made a strange request; she asked that her sperm be frozen, just in case there was an accident. I couldn’t imagine why she would want to propagate such a weak bloodline, so I said it wasn’t necessary.

I won’t mention the despicable deed she did for fear it might give other sissies ideas, but it was the very next day after we were so kind to her. Suffice to say I was very cross with her.

I wanted the punishment to carry no residual sexual pleasure, like the ball gags did for instance. With her hands manacled to her belt I had her lay on the kitchen floor and clamped her legs between two chairs, sandwiched between their seats. Kind of a modified bastinado treatment, well it kept the Roman army in line. Then I smacked the bottoms of her feet with my punishment rod, it was very tedious for me, but I gave her a full quarter-hour of good sharp strokes on the soles of both feet. Let me tell you she was in tears and I had to gag her with a dishcloth shortly after I started, I didn’t feel like walking upstairs for a ball gag. I never had to do that again, thank god.

Week 5

Bridget’s breasts started to bud and became very tender. I wanted her to learn to associate her breasts with pleasure, so Mike and I teamed up to help her learn. Mike would stand behind her, and using hormone cream play with her breasts while I would tease her tethered clitoris. Judging by her squirming and moans, it must have been exquisite, every second or third day I would unbind her clitoris and let her milk it – she was supposed to cum only after I told her it was okay. She wasn’t perfect yet, but she was beginning to understand she must wait for my command to make milk.

I introduced her to caring for my feet on a daily basis. I am not one of those nurses who wears pants most of the time, I like the freedom to show a little if I feel like it. How do you think I got Mike? I also wear lace top stockings and a garter belt most of the time rather than pantyhose. In my opinion, Bridget’s job is to make me feel better, not to learn a foot fetish by licking my feet or sucking on my toes.

If Mike isn’t with me I sit down in an easy chair and Bridget lovingly removes my stockings, woe to her should a run develop. Then she brings a container of warm soapy water and I soak my feet for ten minutes or so while she cleans my shoes and applies white to them as necessary. Then she washes my feet and legs, and then gives me a fine massage on my calves and feet. After that, she fetches clean water and rinses all the soap off, and spends ten minutes rubbing lotion in. Depending on my mood she may put on fresh stockings and heels and dresses me to go out, or slippers and robe. If Mike is with me she performs the service for him as well.

Week 6

Bridget asked if she was thin enough to wear a pretty dress. She had her eyes downcast and blushed as she asked. I melted, but still I pretended to measure her with my eye. Then I said I might have something for her, but she had to be very careful with it and not to mess it.

I had Bridget remove her black nightmare, as we thought of it, along with the dowdy slip and stockings. I removed the now relatively loose corset and was pleased at how trim her waist was becoming. She said she was used to the corset now, and she told me that it made her feel secure. I removed a large box from the corner of the room and opened it. First, I laced Bridget up in a new, smaller sized corset, firmly boned, and with artfully built in silicon breast padding. The effect was magical.

Then I showed her how to step into her petticoats and finally the dress, which was an 1890’s style hobble skirt with a still much-needed bustle. It really was very flattering on her; the color was rust rose with barely perceptible vertical stripes pressed into the satin of the skirt. The bodice was Irish lace over satin and there was a matching apron; it must have cost Nancy a fortune. I had Bridget sit while I pulled on her stockings and laced up her high-buttoned three-inch heel shoes. It was just like playing dress up as a child. Well, what can I say; I was truly captured by the moment.

Mike came by and I let Bridget suck his cock a bit before he fucked me silly. As a reward I let her lick us clean, which she did very carefully without messing her lovely dress.

Week 7

Bridget was cooking for us; of course, she was still restricted to vitamin-enriched oatmeal, with plain salads added to her diet for roughage. She looked very sharp serving us in her fine satin dress and apron – very proud too.

I’m sorry to report that I noticed her sampling more than a little food as she cooked and I was perhaps unduly harsh. For the rest of the week she was required to wear the two-inch ball gag whenever she was downstairs. At night, she was allowed the one-inch model again, but with hand restraints. She was responsible to don these devices herself, and come to me for closing – she was most conscientious.

Mike said she was really getting the hang of cock sucking. I was dying to set her loose on my clitoris, but I had some more things to do first.

I noticed the first signs of cramping and knew my friend was coming. I really felt sorry for Bridget when I told her that her first period was coming, and that she had to take off her fine dress for a few days. I explained that her first period was likely to be messy, but after a while she would learn to manage, I assured her we all do. I instructed her that her Bridget cunt is very special, in that it had to do double duty.

I especially impressed upon her what ever goes in her Bridget cunt must be disinfected or disposed of when removed. Roger always wanted me to play with his rear, but I wouldn’t. Now I would more than make up to her for my earlier refusal. I explained to her that I would prepare her with a little douche and that for the first night or so use a special plug in place of the normal tampon and pad. To impress upon her the need for sanitation, I wore surgical rubber gloves when fiddling with her rear hole. Still in her lovely corset and high button shoes I had Bridget kneel on the bathroom floor and put her head on the floor. Then I gave her a warm enema with barium and plugged her Bridget pussy with an inflatable butt plug.

I think it was the first time the poor dear was plugged. At least I never found any plugs in Roger’s secret stash. I told her she could get up now and showed her how to place the pad and secure it with a firm panty girdle against little leaks. When we went into the bedroom I gave her a lovely silk nighty to wear. I explained it always made me feel so feminine when the curse struck, and if she liked we could suffer together tonight in the bed. It was mean of me to give her two quarts with the barium in it, after a while it does begin to cramp and create the need to pee. But I had cramps and needed to pee frequently too, and she WAS my Bridget.

She did suffer, but she snuggled up to me moaning at times, and I went to sleep lulled by her warmth. It was a bit of a mess in the morning and I made a note to give a cleansing enema first next time. Bridget was very embarrassed, and after I inserted a tampon in each of us, she put on rubber gloves, cleaned up and disinfected the bathroom without being asked.

Week 10

Bridget was wearing the smallest laced corset Nancy had sent and a new dress sized to match. I praised her twenty-four inch waist. After our period was over I introduced her to normal butt plugs, and I made her understand they would be worn whenever she didn’t have her period until I said not to. After a few days she had some trouble keeping a plug in all the time, so she graduated to a larger one, and it was okay. I had her always place two rubbers on the plug prior to insertion to make clean up a snap.

I noticed her nipples were growing and she reported they were very tender. To help her Mike or I still gave her breast treatments; I remembered how nice it was when my mother did that for me during my puberty. Over eighty percent of the time now, she was able to wait for my command to cum - sometimes after a half-hour of stroking her little clitoris. At times we added smacking her bottom just as she was beginning to cum, and she seemed to like that.

She was very pleased with herself and I noticed her eyeing my makeup and nail polish. But she wasn’t ready for that yet. I watched her carefully, but didn’t see her swiping our food, so she was not gagged during the day or most nights now. Two positive signs showed she was adapting well now. First, after I gave her permission and she was administering enemas to herself, she said it made the butt plug much more enjoyable. Second, on some nights she would bring me a gag and ask if she might wear it that night, sometimes I let her.

Week 12

Bridget was down to 160 pounds and almost ready for contemporary garb. Her breasts were noticeably forming now, but still very tender and I had her rub lotion into them for a half-hour every morning and night. I decided to give her another week or so in the 1890’s, and occasionally we added more and harder slaps with ping-pong paddles to her rear as she made milk. Mike tried it with me and I with him, and we decided we liked it too, on Saturday we allowed Bridget to smack our bottoms for us as we came. Not for every day, but a nice variation.

Mike noticed Bridget was developing a very nice walk, he observed her butt moved just like a real girl. Bridget beamed all day from the compliment, and walked past him at every opportunity. I gave her an extra shot of hormones as her blood work indicated it was possible, they were very noticeably working. Her cooking was improving and I could tell she was really trying. Her days were very busy, between exercise, cleaning, walking, cooking, foot care, and following my whims. Well, soon she would be a girl of the 1990s and would have to take on more.

A very strange set of circumstances occurred. Mike was performing a routine removal of a portion of a cancer patients intestines, he had no sooner opened the patient and began uncoiling the intestines when the anaesthesiologist indicated a problem. It doesn’t happen often, but it does happen, the patient was paralyzed as expected, but could feel everything. That was clear from the terror and pain in her eyes. The anaesthesiologist tried everything, but the patient remained alert and feeling. There was really nothing Mike could do but continue, remove the section and close up. When we returned home, I tried to tell Mike there was nothing he did wrong, but he felt the woman’s pain, and the look in her eyes almost devastated him. I guess my training as a nurse hardened me to patients suffering, it was often the price of health, but Mike seldom experienced protracted exposure to extreme pain that he was directly inflicting.

I tried to divert Mike with sex, but he wasn’t interested, so without saying anything, but in a bit of a snit I went to bed about nine. Bridget was in the bathroom, and I intended to wait for her to rub my feet until I went to sleep, but I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. About four I woke and sensed I was alone, I had to pee anyhow so I got up and hearing soft voices I found Bridget and Mike in an earnest discussion. I could only catch a word or two, but apparently they were discussing the operation, it was a closed subject in my mind, so I went back to sleep.

I woke about eight and Mike was in bed with me, sound asleep, and Bridget was sleeping on the floor as usual. I was wide awake but dressed without disturbing them, about eleven Mike joined me in the kitchen and more than made up for last night’s lack of interest. Afterwards Mike said he never realized what a warm and sensitive person Bridget really was. ‘Bridget? You got to be kidding’ my mind observed through the post orgasm fog. I was going to quiz her about their discussion, but somehow it kept slipping my mind.

Week 15

I took Bridget outside the grounds for the first time. She was still in the 1890’s and drew some appreciative stares, until people in the mall noticed her five o’clock shadow. I told her to stand up straight with her head up and ignore them. She was my Bridget and I was the only one whose opinion counted. I’m sure she was cringing inside, but she put up a brave front.

From the mall we were headed to a clinic that specialized in laser hair removal, I expected it would be the first of many Monday afternoon visits. The technician first shaved her whole body with an electric barber shear and then with a special electric razor set to leave a bit of stubble. Then she went into another room and Mary Ryan, the doctor, did the laser treatment lightly all over. Mary was fascinated when we let Bridget’s ovaries drop for treatment; she thought the little rings were a marvelous idea. Bridget looked like a lobster, and I’m sure the corset was unpleasant when I helped her dress, however she didn’t complain.

Toward the end of the week my period started again and I applied the lessons learned. Bridget was thoroughly cleaned out. Then I prepared the barium solution with red dye this time, let it flow into her colon, and securely plugged her Bridget pussy. Again Bridget was allowed to sleep in bed cuddling with me, not on the floor, and in a fine nightie to boot. I added more barium this time, Bridget was very uncomfortable I’m sure, but then so was I. We made it through the night together and felt very close in the morning. She was very proud when the toilet turned red with her period – right after it did the same for me.

I didn’t tell her, but I was really looking forward to sleeping with her nightly. I do like a warm body next to me, and she was getting very cuddly.

Week 16

On Wednesday we both undressed completely, we had a heart to heart talk in front of the mirror. Her figure was shaping up nicely but there were many places where a tuck or two was called for; also, it was time to consider breast implants. AND her nose might have looked fine on a roman statue, but it certainly did not bear any family resemblance to my naturally pert profile. We talked about removing her gonads, I pointed out they were useless now and made her hormone therapy tricky, but I could see that she wasn’t ready for that yet. At the end of our talk we agreed to have the other offending areas rectified – tomorrow. Mike had made the appointment with a colleague of his weeks ago.

It really was a lot for one day, but we had assured the surgeon I was a nurse, and I would give her professional care – when we brought her home from his clinic on Saturday. The poor dear was sore all over for over two weeks, but I didn’t rush her, and by the following Saturday we couldn’t drag her from the mirror. I had to however, as she had to wear a support bra for the next ten days, least her implants dislodge. At the end of two weeks it was clear that her ‘C’ breasts and pert nose came out perfectly, I was very proud of her. She continued exercising abet less vigorously while she recovered, and we discussed her next phase of training. I took advantage of her recovery to concentrate on walking, standing still, and not fidgeting. Truthfully, she deported herself with near perfection.

Week 18

I told Bridget she was ready to have her hair, face, and nails done. I pointed out it was a big responsibility she was taking on, and that I would understand if she wished to put it off for a while. No way I was assured, she would make every effort and she really wanted to look like me. I was touched; this was working out so well.

I wore my blond hair beyond shoulder length and it fell in waves, quite sexy actually. At work I put it up on top of my head in a bun or I wore a high ponytail. I told her I would have her hair done, and see how well she did with that before makeup and nails. Still in the 1890’s we left for the salon, and returned with a blond copy of myself. She was the talk of the salon, how often does one see a Bridget from the 1890’s after all.

She looked so much like a girl, I had to show her Bridget clitoris to several of the girls working in the shop, and they thought it was cute too. Bridget let me do it with little more than a blush, and I believe she was very proud of herself. Now we really couldn’t get her away from the mirror.

Okay, call me softy; I let her have a manicure too. I had her watch as the girl give us a pedicure, and we purchased the necessities for her to take over giving me frequent manicures and pedicures. She was walking in heels so well I stopped that exercise to make time for her new duties.

Week 19

Early in the eighteenth week the friend came again, and Bridget had everything ready in the bathroom as she noticed me grimace at dinner with the start of cramps. I increased the barium this time and we really suffered together, it was such a bonding experience.

I found I enjoyed doing her nails, and her mine as we chatted – I believe that was the start of a new loving relationship between us.

I decided to begin her pussy loving training later on in the week when my flow lightened. I remembered how Billy did it, and decided to start right off building endurance; based on Roger’s non-performance I was half way expecting some resistance. But no, Bridget took to the task like she was born to it, and almost before I realized I had a good organism. She backed off a little while I recovered, but was soon out performing Billy, and he didn’t have a cute little blond ponytail bobbing up and down. Our first session lasted over an hour and at the end I was really clamping down on poor Bridget’s head. I couldn’t move for twenty minutes as I cuddled her, it was that intense.

When we were finished Bridget looked down blushing, and said she much preferred that to cock sucking. I hugged her and said, "So do I baby, so do I!"

Week 20

On Monday Bridget had her last laser treatment for a while, she was smooth and hairless all over. I decided I would like to see well made up eyes looking at me while my pussy was being adored.

She was caring for our hair now and was very good at it. It was time to dress Bridget in contemporary garb, and have her wear make up like the big Bridget she now was. She was still five eight of course but, but she was down to one hundred and thirty eight pounds when I decided to take her shopping. Before we went out I experimented and found a thong and a light days pad completely masked her thin clitoris. I had her wear the bra she wore after the implants, which was quite large on her now. To cover her she wore one of my old housedress and sandals. She was not very attractive.

We left the house about nine, and the first stop was the foundation specialty shop. Bridget was a full 34C now and we bought several bras, panty girdles, panties, cinches, slips, a modern "Merry Widow" style corset for fun nights, you know everything a modern girl needs. The shop ladies were fascinated with Bridget’s clitoris, and several had to touch it to make sure it was real. Bridget wore a modern strapless merry widow corset, and lace toped stocking when we left the store.

In the mall proper we purchased several outfits and I had Bridget wear a strapless black sheath with a skirt length that just covered her stocking tops. Very hot, her much-improved butt looked great!

Then we went into Macy’s for a makeover. I must confess I enjoyed Bridget’s discomfort trying to keep her skirt decent on the high make up stool, so I didn’t add to it by telling the sales lady Bridget’s true gender. We collected kits for day, evening, and whore. We left with Bridget wearing whore or slut if you prefer. Then we purchased several pair of heels and she left wearing three inch black pumps.

On the way home, just for the hell of it I sent her into a gay bar to buy a pack of cigarettes (neither of us smoked) and to drink a glass of milk. She was to be sure to tell the bartender she was a transvestite when she ordered the milk. I waited outside and she came out ten minutes later, red faced, and got into the car without speaking. Of course I made her tell me all about it, and we both ended up having a good laugh.

Mike stopped by our house on the way home and asked my new friend to blow him. While she was doing it, he casually asked me if we were ready to try out Bridget’s clitoris on a little anal excursion. I asked myself, why not? When Bridget was finished, Mike was beeped and had to leave, but I was still hot from watching Bridget blow him, she was getting so good at it.

Still dressed I had Bridget go to the bathroom and get some of the special rubber bands, rubbers, and lubricant. Looking at Bridget I was feeling like a slut myself. When she returned I released her clitoris and helped her make it stiff. Then I had her put on two rubbers and a tight rubber band to insure they didn’t slip off her puny thing. I pulled down my panties, jacked up my skirt, and leaned over the dining room table. I told Bridget to bugger me nicely, but if she came I would be very, very harsh with her.

With liberal lubricant Bridget played with my rosebud with her clitoris while I played with my breasts and watched her in the mirror. Soon I requested penetration and then vigorous play. It really was the right tool for the job; all I needed was Mike filing my other hole. I told Bridget to stop; it was time to eat. She dutifully withdrew and wiped my butt clean. I had her discard the rubbers, wash her clitoris, and lock back up. I sat in an easy chair and with both of us still dressed Bridget had dinner for an hour or so. She really is extraordinary talented and I lost count of my organisms. Finally, I pulled her up next to me and we cuddled for over an hour.

That night, before I tucked Bridget in on the floor she told me how grateful she was to be my big Bridget now. I gave her a little kiss and told her she was the best sister ever.

Week 21

During the week Bridget and I went everywhere together. Mike suggested I bring her to the hospital; he had several friends who would like to see her. Well, she wasn’t exactly a secret. Several of the guys asked me if she could blow them and she set up shop in the old staff lounge. Then Peter, Mike’s best friend, wanted to bugger her, I couldn’t refuse providing he wore rubbers and used adequate lubrication. Mike and I watched very carefully, it was her first time, and after a while Bridget seemed to take it very well, she probably thought it gave her mouth a rest. After all the blowjobs she has given, I would have.

My very good friend Sandra walked in unexpectedly, and asked if Bridget gave good head to ladies. Well I was most proud of that, and I couldn’t refuse providing we could watch. Bridget made Sandra a very happy woman. Then she made me a very happy woman and then blew Mike, the poor dear was exhausted, so I suggested she freshen up, and we left for home.

On the way we stopped for dinner and Mike asked me if it would be okay for Bridget to eat with us, I relented, it was really about time, and Bridget had her first real meal in almost five months.

Upon returning home Nancy called and asked if we could visit her in San Francisco for a week or so in a few weeks over Christmas. I called and accepted – the timing was perfect, Mike was going to Aspen with his family, and I had ten days off for accumulated extra shifts.

That same evening Bridget asked if she could speak frankly. She looked very serious, and I couldn’t imagine what was wrong.

"Of course Bridget, what is troubling you?"

"Catherine, you know I would never say anything in front of your friends, but I will never have sex with anyone other than you or Mike again. If another is to be brought into our family, it must be with my prior knowledge and consent. I don’t believe our long term relationship can survive such depravities, I know that I certainly can’t."

I was floored; I didn’t know what to say. She just stood there looking at me with her big eyes, after awhile she undressed and prepared for bed. She curled up on the floor and went to sleep. I went to bed but couldn’t sleep, she was right and I knew it, I don’t know what I was thinking. Reviewing the day I realized Mike had realized what a ghastly thing we were doing and attempted to make amends to Bridget. Bridget was right, never again. Once I made up my mind I went to wake Bridget, but she was awake waiting for me.

"Bridget honey, your right that was a monstrous thing to do. I promise nothing like that will ever happen again, please come to bed with me now."

We hugged, cuddled, and fell peacefully asleep like two spoons.

Week 22

During the week I took stock of Bridget’s talents, I decided she had cleaned up her act and was more than suited to my needs – and just as important I was to her needs. I wouldn’t be ashamed to bring her to visit Nancy as my best friend.

We finally got around to trying anal stimulation while Mike and I fucked. It worked best for me when I sat on Mike wonderful tool and leaned forward, exposing my rosebud to Bridget’s clitoris. I managed two delightful organisms and Mike one. Bridget was good and there was no milk in her rubbers, just a little pre-cum. She cleaned up and put fresh rubbers on for Mike’s turn.

Mike was nervous, as he hadn’t tried anal penetration before, but I assured him Bridget wouldn’t hurt him. This time we let Bridget enter Mike very gradually with Mike on his knees on the floor, I was under him and his face was in my pussy while I was jerking and licking him off. Mike had a powerful organism and I was covered with cum. Bridget was good and began cleaning everyone up.

Mike wanted to give Bridget a break and help her milk herself. However, her little bottom was really red by the time she filled her rubber. Our hands were stinging and I made a note to buy a nice little paddle or whip for her when we got to San Francisco in a few weeks. On the plus side, now we didn’t have to worry about her milking herself without us paddling away and tweaking her breasts. Her padlock was replaced by a little clasp and she could free her clit at will.

All week she slept with me in bed, we wore beautiful nightgowns, cuddled, and I truly believe that she is very happy with her new life. I was very glad to have her with me; I just hoped she appreciated my sacrifice in the past weeks.

The Fruits of Love

Motherhood is the strangest thing, it can be like being one’s own Trojan horse. Rebecca West (1892–1983)

Thanksgiving fell during the twenty-third week; I decided we would have a traditional dinner, with Bridget cooking of course. Let me tell you she was psyched.

Last week I made two other decisions in the spirit of the holidays:

First, I would begin calling her Bridget from now on; sissy and other nasty names would be an adjective, not a proper noun in our house again.

Second, she would go off her diet of enriched oatmeal and salad, and begin eating real food again; she was made to understand that if she gained any significant weight, she was back on her diet.

We were just about to sit down for diner when I almost had a heart attack, what I kind of dreaded happened. Gloria Feebold-Miles, Bridget’s mom arrived to have Thanksgiving dinner with us – without any notice whatsoever.

Bridget answered the door wearing a stylish short green cocktail dress we shopped for together last Saturday; she was so much fun to shop with now. She was wearing a lovely white apron over her dress, it was just darling with a spray of red and yellow roses on its front; she was cooking dinner after all.

Fortunately I was lighting the candles on the table so I looked busy; I could see Gloria from the dining room and walked out to great her. Gloria’s black sable coat was gorgeous, and much to my dismay she looked in fine health, I didn’t know then what the next few weeks would bring. Bridget was speechless during the few seconds it took for me to walk to the door – however; she had the presence of mind to close the door and her mouth after a second or so. Let me tell you dear reader, my mind was racing as fast as my heart.

"Hello Gloria, what a pleasant surprise. I’d like you to meet my sister Bridget."

They smiled at each other and hugged, kissing without making contact as I had taught her. While I was faux kissing Gloria, Bridget was mouthing a silent thank you.

"Why I didn’t know you had a sister dear, I don’t remember meeting her at your wedding." I think that was the last time we had seen her, after almost five years, and she picks now to visit her dear son, touching I thought.

"With all the excitement that day you may have forgotten her, besides she had light brown hair then. Please, don’t stand at the door, do come in and have a old-fashioned." If I remembered correctly, they were her favorite before-dinner drink, she’d need a few before this day ended, and I on the other hand, had better keep a clear head.

Gloria replied, "Thank you dear, it’s freezing out there."

Bridget said, "I will make a drink for you Gloria, your regular Catherine?"

"Yes please, you’re a dear." I replied.

We walked a few feet into the living room; I steered Gloria to one of four Princess Anne armchairs arranged in an intimate cluster about a small oval period table. It was very cozy with the gas fireplace burning brightly.

"I’m sorry to come with no notice, but I was in the area and asked Charles to drive me here. It has been ages and I wanted to surprise Roger." She didn’t look sorry, and she sure as hell surprised Roger, it’s a good thing she had an enema and is plugged today, or she might have shit in her panties.

"No problem whatsoever, you must stay for dinner of course. Charles must join us too, after all it is Thanksgiving, and we have more than enough." I offered.

"Thank you, we will, but tell me, where’s my little boy Roger? I’ll bet he is watching a football game on TV."

"You should have phoned ahead, he and some friends flew to some remote football game, Pittsburgh I think, and I don’t expect him home until nine or ten. You should have called me, I would have insisted he be here for dinner." I was glad she remembered he liked football, a perfect reason for his absence; they do play football on Thanksgiving. Don’t they? Oh well, she seemed to think they do.

My evolving plan was not to hide Roger’s transformation, but rather to allow Gloria to see how perfect it was at dinner before I unmasked him. I figured the down side was she would storm out and threaten me with lawyers. Mikes brother was a lawyer, and he had assured me that the signed releases and videotape would vindicate me in a court of law. I hadn’t begun to think of upside yet, I was still thinking damage control.

We talked about the weather and Florida until Bridget returned with the drinks. She was the perfect hostess, bringing Gloria’s Scotch Old Fashioned, a pitcher of refills, she said, "Mrs. Feebold-Miles I hope you enjoy these with muddled fruit."

"You are a treasure, my very favorite way," she tasted, "Ah nectar of the gods. Catherine these are perfect, even heavy on the sugar and bitters. Darling Bridget please call me Gloria, there must be no formality between us."

"Thank you Gloria, I’m so pleased you enjoy." She handed me a diet Coke and kept one herself. Then she served the shrimp (that was destined as our first course) as a hors d'oeuvre on Carr’s Water Crackers, with a smidgen of cocktail sauce and fresh horseradish on top. Gloria finished her first and Bridget refilled her glass, Bridget obviously knew mother’s tastes.

I wanted to let her get used to he mother’s presence gradually. "Bridget dear, would you please fetch Charles from the limo, he will be eating with us, perhaps you could set two more places." I requested.

Before she could respond Gloria said, "Be sure to put him to work dear, he is an excellent carver."

"Oh wonderful, I so enjoy cooking, but I make a frightful mess of a turkey when I attempt to carve one. I’ll get Charles and see he has a warm drink, be back in a minute." I was really proud of her; Gloria showed no sign of recognition.

"This is a strange coincidence, did you know Roger had a sister named Bridget?"

"Why yes he’s mentioned her, but I thought she’d passed away." That why I chose the name, and he seemed to like it.

"Yes seven years ago while vacationing with friends in Pretoria, she loved wild animals, tragic really. The Land Rover they were traveling in overturned, and I think her neck was broken. It was a freak accident really, but I’ve never forgiven myself for allowing her to go. Her body was never retrieved, as wild animals drove off the rest of the party before they could retrieve it.

In my day young girls didn’t go flitting about as they do today. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t miss her. I know you love Roger, but Bridget was a sweet loving girl, she was never the handful Roger was."

"I know what you mean, my brothers were so harum-scarum, and you have no idea how wonderful it is for me to have Bridget staying with me. You know, we do just everything together." I was getting a germ of an idea; this might work out without bloodshed.

I saw Bridget lead Charles into the kitchen. I remembered Charles now, he was a handsome black man about six-four, and while he was easily fifty he had the body of a twenty year old athlete. My mind kind of drifted thinking about his cock, it was probably enormous – Mike had been away days too long. While I was harboring those thoughts Gloria was talking about her Bridget, her ramblings only required an occasional yes, no or maybe from me.

Soon Bridget called us into dinner, it worked out very well. Charles not only carved, but he also served, saying he preferred to eat in the kitchen. I’m sure Gloria influenced him, but then, he was hers to influence.

Bridget amazed me at the table; Gloria had been a successful fashion designer until she got her hooks into Paul, Roger's dad. Early in Bridget’s training, I subscribed to a dozen women’s magazines and forbade her to read anything else. Now her reading paid off handsomely, they chatted away about fashion trends while I plotted my next move, it was becoming easier by the minute as mother, and daughter warmed to each other.

After desert, lovely large fresh strawberries with a chocolate mousse dip, Bridget swore was low in calories, I don’t see how, it tasted so sinful; Gloria and I adjoined to the den. I closed the door after asking Bridget to supervise Charles as he cleaned up, and then to wait in the living room watching TV until I called her. I gave her a warm little kiss saying, "Don’t worry baby, it is going to be fine." She breathed a sigh of relief and walked back to where Charles was working.

We seated ourselves and I brought a glass of sweet cream sherry from the sideboard for each of us. Gloria had at least seven scotch Old Fashioned cocktails and half a bottle of French white wine, but was largely unaffected as far as I could see. She said, "You are so fortunate to have Bridget, she is such a sweet girl. It’s amazing how much she resembles my Bridget, you know I had her nose fixed, I didn’t bother with Roger as he had Paul’s nose, and Paul thought he was handsome."

"Gloria I have something to tell you about Roger, and I’m not sure how to go about it. It’s a little complex and I would like your promise to hear me out."

"You’re going to get a divorce, I knew this would never work out. There really isn’t much more to say, we agreed before the marriage how this would pay out."

"No it’s not that, I love your child far more now then I ever did, I don’t believe we will ever separate, we have grown so close."

"It doesn’t look that way to me, he didn’t think enough of you to share Thanksgiving with you. I don’t blame you dear; he is just like his father, thoughtless and crude. I had detectives watching you for the first few years of your marriage; I know what a trial he is for you."

"Believe me he has changed, may I have your word you will hear me out?"

"Yes dear, I guess I certainly owe you that."

"Okay, I just don’t know whether to start with some very disturbing things, or the good news, at least good news as I see it. What is your preference?"

"Give me the good news first, I don’t want to upset Bridget’s wonderful meal before I have to."

"Okay, Your son Roger is not at a football game."

"Oh damn, he with his mistress, I understand, that will break the prenuptial, congratulations."

"No, don’t be ridiculous, Roger never had a mistress. Look Gloria, Roger is now Bridget, and as you know she cooked dinner and ate it with us."

"What are you saying?" She asked, as her voice grew louder.

"Look, calm down now and hear me out, you promised!" I said levelly.

I’m not sure she heard me as she continued, "Just looking at the face, it could be. The eyes and the chin are Roger’s, did you get him a nose job?"

"Yes, I’m afraid neither of us liked the old one."

"I had no idea he felt that way, I would have given him one in a New York minute. But he has such a lovely figure."

"Yes SHE does, its amazing what a little dieting, a few hormones, exercise and plastic surgery will do."

I thought she was looking at me with new respect, but she might simply be giving me enough rope to hang myself. She said, "Please tell me the disturbing news."

"Six months ago Roger was seriously falling apart, he was just killing himself slowly with destructive behavior. I loved him deeply, but he wouldn’t listen to common sense. I have some videotape that I made at the suggestion of one of the hospital psychologists. It is very disturbing and I hate to be the one to show it to you."

Using two VCRs, months ago, I had excerpted from the original one hundred and fifty-four-hours of tape, twenty minutes of the most damming. I popped it into the VCR and an obviously drunk Roger in drag appeared on the tube. I looked at Gloria’s face while she watched her son’s antics, first there was a little smile, then rage as he wallowed around, finally she looked at me and asked, "Why did you bother with him?"

"I took a vow to my spouse, and frankly I didn’t think this was worse than cancer or some other horrible disease that I deal with daily in the hospital. There was more, as you can see he drank excessively, he gambled excessively, I only found out a few months ago to the tune of twelve thousand dollars a month."

"He sounds just like his father, god knows I tried to change him, to absolutely no avail. Did Roger, er, Bridget tell you I tried to raise him, er, her as a girl with his sister?"

"No, I didn’t know that, but it explains a lot. He must have felt warm and safe in girls things with you, that behavior we just saw was his attempt to regain the security he felt as a child."

"But he absolutely hated it and fought me tooth and nail. Paul was away a lot and that’s when I put Roger in dresses, but as soon as Paul got home Roger ran to him and Paul made me dress him as a boy. How did you do it?" It was respect in her eye, I was sure it was.

"He asked me to, look one night he came to me in very crude drag – well look for yourself. I taped this to give him motivation when the inevitable backsliding set in." After a few seconds of black screen, Roger’s confession came on, followed by his begging me to help him become a woman. His tears were touching; I didn’t feel the need to tell Gloria about the wonderful little testicle restraint.

"Oh the poor boy, I never realized he was in such pain. You say that he is happy now."

"You saw for yourself at dinner tonight, if she isn’t a well adjusted girl, I don’t know who is."

"Has he had the operation?"

"No not yet, I don’t want to rush her. When she is ready she will ask, it really isn’t important. Let me call her in now, what I would like is for her to strip for you, so that you can see for yourself how feminine she is. Look at how she undresses and dresses, not just her body. Please remember to refer to her, not him, it only confuses her to be refereed to as a him."

I got up and called Bridget in, I sat down and asked her to remove all her clothes. The poor dear looked very embarrassed until I said, "Please Bridget, we are all girls here and your mommy loves you very much."

She smiled at that and took everything off except her heels, stockings, and garter belt. I explained to Gloria that it was important for Bridget to feel as feminine as possible. Gloria shamelessly poked at Bridget’s breasts, even tweaking a nipple. Bridget yelped saying, "Look they are all mine, no implants any more, thirty four ‘C’ and very sensitive."

"Sorry dear, they are indeed very nice – nicer than mine or Bridget’s I’m afraid."

Gloria was fascinated with her rings, she asked, "If she didn’t have an operation, where are hi… her testicles?"

"We call them her ovaries, and this is her clit. Her ovaries are tucked up here, I’m sure she will show you if you want."

"No, as you can see she, she isn’t well endowed, if the truth be known that’s why I insisted on a vicious prenuptial agreement."

"Her equipment is quite perfect for sisterly sex, she is absolutely the most satisfying, in her sisterly way."

"Hummm, why is this connected to this ring?" She was probing Bridget shamelessly, I felt sorry for the poor dear, the woman was practically a stranger.

"Several reasons, very practically it allows her to pee like the girl she is, no hands sitting down, it’s really darling to watch. As you could see from the video, she liked to milk herself without me; this arrangement makes that very difficult. Doesn’t it love?"

"Yes Catherine, I never do that any more."

"It keeps it from showing in a dress, that cocktail dress would require heavy underwear to mask her clit and external ovaries, it almost never gets hard on its own now, does it dear?"

"Very seldom while I’m dressed, it tries when I do some things like you were just talking about, but that gets it nowhere."

"That’s really marvelous Catherine, I’m so glad you are in the medical profession and know all these things. Is it uncomfortable dear?" I had never asked her that, I wondered what he would say.

"No, I like it now, between tucking and this I feel like a real woman." She blushed, "I even like the butt plug, but that did take some getting used to."

"Butt plug?"

"Show mommy dear." She walked over to the desk and sketched one then bent over and showed mommy.

"What does that do?"

"It makes her feel feminine, her walk is sexy, right? The plug is a terrific training device, it isn’t really needed now, but Bridget loves it in now and then, don’t you dear."

"Its really true mommy, it makes me feel like a very sexy girl."

"If you don’t mind me asking, what is your sex together like? What ever do you do?"

"Well I think her number one favorite thing is cuddling in bed with me, her breasts are very sensitive and her clit is in just the right place. She makes love better than my other best friend and sorority sister. Isn’t that right honey?"

"That is very good, super really, but I love to love and kiss you here." She touched herself tenderly between her legs and blushed again.

"Well that certainly is my favorite, Gloria she is the best in the world at it, when Roger lived here he never did it, refused, didn’t even try, but Bridget is fantastic."

"If you want mommy I will show you, in an hour you will certainly relax after your hard drive today."

"An hour dear?" Gloria asked with interest.

"At least I would think, she loves you very much and I sure she would like to perform that little service for you, she brushes hair too, like nobody else, its sooo relaxing." I encouraged her.

Had Gloria not had several drinks I doubt if she would have had Bridget do her, but she had and she did. Just in case, the little fiber optic lens on the VCR was hard at work, and I managed to stay out of its field of view.

It had been weeks since I watched her do someone else, I knew first hand how great she made me feel, but watching her do her mother showed the sensitivity and technique that was pure art. Gloria couldn’t take it for a full hour and called it quits after only twenty-five minutes and a dozen or so big Os. Bridget then stood behind her and brushed her hair out, and then re-styled it into a loose bun, only then did she gracefully get dressed. Gloria was one happy woman.

I told them both that those tapes were clearly no longer needed, and I gave the box to Gloria. She had Bridget call Charles and instructed him to smash each and every one, and only then, dispose of them in the trash. Of course the originals were in my bank vault, but I sincerely hoped they never needed to know that.

We all retired early, Gloria took over the third floor guest suite, with Charles camped in the maid’s room on the forth floor. Bridget and I retired with a few toys.

It was quite and extraordinary session and marked a major changing point in our relationship. For the first time ever we made love, truly warm luscious love. We were two caring girls doing everything to please the other. I even gave the blowjob of my life; it must have lasted a good hour given Bridget’s staying power, but she experience dozens of female organisms along the way to a grand climax. Best of all it didn’t feel like a blowjob to either of us, but rather that I was teasing her clit, vagina, and she was responding as a woman. In the category of woman on woman, even including Nancy, this was the best sex of my life – Bridget had come that far.

Later that night Charles came into our room nude and offered his services, he was huge, but I hugged Bridget, a giggling Bridget, and said, "Thank you Charles for your offer, but Bridget is all I need." She snuggled close and just as I was drifting off to sleep she asked with a little concern, "Does that mean that Mike won’t be back?"

"You love Mike, don’t you dear?"

"Yes he is very nice to me, but not as much as I love you."

"I love Mike too, and I love you, the three of us are a loving family, he will be back after the holidays. I’ll bet he will be so horny it will take both of us to make him happy." Bridget might take the warm up and clean up positions, I think that’s what they are called, but I definitely reserved the game play for myself.

Gloria stayed over two weeks. Bridget combed Gloria's hair daily and they became very close, but never went further – her service Thanksgiving Day was never mentioned again. Mike stopped by several times and both Bridget and I satisfied him, he was getting hooked on a little clit in his hole I think. He brought back a thin hardwood paddle that was perfect to help Bridget make milk, but he confessed to wanting a much more caring and loving relationship with Bridget. That was no problem, because as you have seen, I had reached the same conclusion.

The past weeks were extremely pleasant for Bridget and me as we saw Mike regularly and formed a fast friendship with Gloria. She really was a woman after my own heart, and had endured much at the hands of the beast she had been married to. He really was a beast and abused her too, never with his cock, after all Gloria had Charles even back then. But he would actually strike, rape and sodomized her, she thought. She said, "Christ I never knew when the beast entered me vaginally or anally, but his uncircumcised cock tasted so bad, I knew when the disgusting thing was in my mouth." I personally wouldn’t even try to blow Charles; he is too damn big and I could believe her.

Bridget’s true story came out; by the end of it she was crying on Gloria’s shoulder. Fortunately I had a linen handkerchief and prevented Gloria's gorgeous lime green silk-satin blouse from being stained. Bridget started, "I remember it like yesterday, daddy was due home for dinner after a month long European business trip. What a grand month that was too.

The morning daddy left for Europe, Brigé (Roger’s sister Bridget’s nickname as a child) and I was playing in the sunroom. I was ten and she was eleven, as I played with my trains I couldn’t help be envious of her in her robins egg blue party dress, it was trimmed in real Irish lace and French blue ribbons graced her hair. She looked so pretty as she served tea to her dolls; she was talking to them and it looked like ever so much more fun than playing with soulless moving machines.

She was a very perceptive girl, you remember Gloria how Brigé seemed to identify with everyone’s feelings?"

"Yes dear, she was a warm giving person. Please go on with your little story, I don’t remember that day." Gloria Replied.

"I think you will," my Bridget continued, "after a while Brigé asked, ‘Roger, I know you are a boy and all, but would you like to attend my party?’ Roger, er, I was something of a terror then, dad encouraged me to act rebelliously, like a man, as he put it.

I replied, ‘naaa, that’s girl stuff, I think I’ll go out and whack some tennis balls.’ Brigé looked at me and shrugged her pretty shoulders returning her attention to her guests at the tea party. Getting up off the floor I looked out the windows I could see it was raining cats and dogs, saying, ‘oh that damn rain! I’m stuck in here.’ And I kicked the train off the tracks. When my rage cooled down I got out my toy soldiers, but they wouldn’t stand right because of earlier abuse sustained during one or more of my tantrums.

I looked over at Brigé and got an idea, ‘I’ll go to the party and throw a fierce tantrum with her crockery,’ but I said, ‘May I join your party?’ I must have had my plan written on my face because Brigé looked up saying sweetly, ‘Wonderful, I want so much to have you as my guest, but first let’s go upstairs and get dressed.’

It was Nanny Thomas’s day off, so we had the run of the house, you were reading," she looked at Gloria, "and handling correspondence in your suite, so if we were quiet no one would bother us. Once in a while Bridget had put a dress or pinafore on me for a game or Halloween; I kind of liked it, but daddy absolutely forbid it. He hit me; really hurt me, just the last Halloween when he caught me trick or treating as a witch. Remember you told me, "Roger, with that nose in a long hooded dress you are a natural." Gloria smiled with the memory and nodded affirmatively.

My Bridget continued, "Reading my mind Brigé said, ‘Daddy is off to Europe, and mommy doesn’t mind.’

I shuffled my feet, looking at how pretty she was and imagining me pretty like that, finally I said, ‘okay, for a little while.’

I actually walked up the long spiral staircase holding Brigé’s hand. Normally I bounded up shouting ‘charge!’ as I went.

Once in Brigé’s suite she gave me a little kiss and said, ‘Start a bath Roger, lets do this right.’

I had a bath last night and a shower this morning and hadn’t done anything much to get dirty, so I said, ‘I’m clean, just give me a dress.’

She put her hands on her hips saying, ‘you were all over the dirty floor, besides you haven’t taken a bath like I’m going to give you. You start the water now.’ There was a little edge to her voice so I did as asked. As I watched the tub filling, she came in and dumped some oil and powder into the water, and it instantly began to foam and smelled like a field of wild flowers. After a minute she said, ‘Take off all your clothes please.’

It wasn’t that long ago that we bathed together so I thought nothing of being naked with her, she was close to puberty but at ten years old I was only dimly aware of the changes ahead.

I remember that first bubble bath like yesterday, Catherine we must find a bubble powder with that odor. I’m sure that you will absolutely adore it."

I replied, "I’ll remember the next time we are at the Short Hills Mall, but please continue, this is fascinating."

Bridget smiled at me knowing that I would remember and continued, "I got into the bath and entered the world of my dreams. Brigé saw the smile on my face and told me just to relax and enjoy, she would do everything for me. She scrubbed me all over and shampooed me several times finally applying rinse. As I stepped out of the tub she was dry, unlike nanny who I soaked during every bath, I guess I was grateful to Brigé for opening the door to this world for me.

She fastened a towel around my wet head and patted me dry with another, then fastened a large towel around my body; I looked just like she did after her bath. She even had a pair of her furry slippers with a darling little inch high heal for me to wear. Seeing my smile as I looked in the mirror, she said, ‘Isn’t it grand to be sisters?’

I could feel dad’s sharp blows to my head and neck last Halloween, but I mentally shrugged my shoulders and smiled back saying, ‘Yes Brigé, it truly is.’ Brigé then went through her closets and draws like a dervish, and soon everything was laid out, everything was a pastel shade of orange, amber, and totally harmonious. First she handed me lacy panties, once on they felt smooth and cool, caressing my skin and privates, so much nicer than my jockey shorts.

She smiled and fastened a matching training bra with a little padding on me. Then she helped me with a silky slip with lacy, I remember it had little amber rosebuds all over it. ‘Over here now, I must do something with your hair.’ She worked with her curling iron and soon I had ringlets all over my head, ‘good, just a tiny little bit of lipstick, mommy lets me, so you can wear some too.’ We looked in the mirror again, ‘Yes we would both be pretty without these noses, mommy promised me a nose job, maybe she will get yours done too.’ We looked like twins.

Then I stood and stepped into a crinoline which she tied at my waist, followed by a satin and lace dress just like hers, only the color of a desert sunset. We looked in the mirror and I felt like a girl. Finally I wore matching tights and little high heels just like Bridget’s. Before we left her room she sprayed a little perfume, I think it was your Wind Song Gloria.

We played tea party, Wendy served us for lunch but said nothing of how I was dressed, and Bridget showed me how to sit modestly and keep my dress nice. I loved being my sister’s sister, and the thought of throwing a destructive tantrum never re-entered my mind, the wonderful way I was dressed had a calming effect on my soul.

After lunch we continued our tea party, expanding our guests by adding Barbie dolls after dressing them for the party, of course. Gloria you must remember coming into the sunroom about five to prepare us for supper, you always did that on Nanny’s day off. Don’t you remember finding two daughters?" Bridget looked expectantly at Gloria waiting for a reply.

"I couldn’t believe my eyes, first I thought one of Brigé’s friends was visiting, but I couldn’t figure out where you were. I was about to call Charles to look for you in the mud outside. But then you turned and I saw the nose and knew it was you. A lovely pretty you, I made up my mind right there you would be my second daughter forever. You even seemed to want that too."

"Oh I did, and after supper when you painted my nails and toes I was in heaven. Don’t you remember taking me to get my ears pierced, getting my hair permed, and buying lots of beautiful clothes, just like Brigé? Nobody in the stores knew, I was a girl twenty-four hours a day, it was heaven until daddy came home." Bridget looked at Gloria with tears in her eyes and said seriously, "You don’t know what happened to me then, do you?"

"Oh, he yelled and screamed at me in the bedroom, and I think he took you hunting or something for a week or so, you were a beast again when you came home."

"Not quite, if you remember he walked in the house early surprising us all. He took one look at me and sent me out to the limo. About twenty minutes later he had Mark drive us to the cabin near Lake George. The whole four-hour ride he said almost nothing, just repeated several times. ‘You are a very pretty girl, I will show you how a real man treats a pretty girl.’ He didn’t look real mad so I remember thinking, ‘maybe he likes my dress – it’s very pretty. My nails and toenails are a perfect pink, my hair is perfect, and I was wearing the pretty emerald studs you had purchased for me the day before. He had several drinks from the limo’s bar, and even offered me a Coke; I was feeling better and better as we reached the cabin. After all I had done nothing wrong, my knees were glued together during the whole ride, I was a perfectly behaved little girl." When she finished she looked like she was in a trance as she relived the horror of what came next.

"Christ Bridget, what did the bastard do to you?" Gloria held her hand and I kneeled beside her.

"We got to the cabin and daddy told me to sit on his lap, I really don’t remember exactly what happened, but the next thing I clearly remember is a terrible pain in my behind hole. It was like I was on fire there, I pulled down my pretty panties, they were ripped, and there were feces, dried blood, yuck, and fresh blood there. Daddy was slumped in a chair looking at me evilly, he snarled, ‘you fucking cunts are always tying the rag on when the party gets good. Get over here and I’ll show you what happens when you piss off a real man.’ I was terrified, my mouth and throat were sore, but I went over. He put me over his knee and started by spanking me on my bare bottom, really hard, I was kicking and screaming but he only smacked me harder, my tights were ripped and my panties a mess. He noticed I was bleeding on him and became enraged. He started to punch me I don’t remember anything after that until the next day, at least I think it was the next day

Mark came to the cabin and brought me food, he didn’t like what daddy did, and tried to clean me up a little, he checked for broken bones and stuff. What else could he do? If he said anything daddy would fire him. He left but came back for an hour every day until my hole healed and the bruises faded. I was in the once lovely dress and a real mess, so I didn’t go outside. I cried a lot that week, but you know what bothered me most?"

"To bad the bastard is dead, I’d rip his heart out. What bothered you most, that you daddy was a rapist and a beast?"

"No, I hated him for sure, at the time I didn’t know I had been raped, heck I didn’t know what the word meant. What bothered me most was I knew the wonderful world I had lived in, as a girl for a whole month, was never to be mine. I could never be Brigé’s sister. That is why I changed and fought you every time you tried to dress me."

I felt like a real shit for treating her as I had, I probably could have made her transformation easy and pleasant, but that guilt passed quickly. It was all clearly Roger's fault, as a man he couldn’t open up to me, how the hell was I supposed to know, so what the hell could he expect? He never would have eaten oatmeal for five minutes, much less five months if he weren’t terrorized. He was damn lucky he had a sensitive, patient, and loving spouse like me.

But thinking like that still didn’t help, I still felt bad.

Gloria felt the same, as she had her attorneys give me a modified power of attorney over Bridget’s inheritances and began to transfer wealth to us in order to minimize taxes. Basically Bridget had to certify in person each year that she was happy with the arrangement, and there was additional reasonable protections against my looting and running. It was fair to both of us and I was pleased.

Gloria has a real head on her shoulders and remembered Brigé’s death was never registered in the United States. Soon Roger will be officially Bridget and come into possession of all of Brigé’s documentation – that is if Gloria's high priced lawyers earn their salt.

Our marriage records are being be fudged, we will still be legally married, Bridget just won’t be covered under my health insurance anymore. That was no biggie, I was going to cut way back on my working hours anyway, I really enjoyed spending my time with Bridget now.

God if we only knew what lay ahead I never would have left New Jersey, but that’s selfish, as we wouldn’t have been able to help Nancy.

San Francisco

Cruelty would be delicious if one could only find some sort of cruelty that didn’t really hurt.
George Bernard Shaw (1856–1950)

The impulse to cruelty is, in many people, almost as violent as the impulse to sexual love—almost as violent and much more mischievous.
Aldous Huxley (1894–1963)

The Monday before Christmas we landed in San Francisco. It was raining like hell, but Nancy greeted us at the arrival pod, running up to me and giving me a big hug. She surprised me with a passionate French kiss, after several moments be broke leaving me somewhat breathless.

"I see you left Roger home, I hope the beast is hanging by his thumbs."

"I told you dear, Roger doesn’t exist any more, meet my spouse Bridget."

Even though I was holding Bridget’s hand, clearly perplexed Nancy looked around the area for Bridget.

Finally Bridget said, "Pleased to see you again Nancy, I’ve lost a few pounds." Then she kissed a surprised Nancy – on the lips, but I don’t know how deeply. I couldn’t tell what Nancy was thinking, but a whole gamut of expression flitted across her face.

Finally she smiled and said, "Welcome to San Francisco, let’s collect your luggage, Crystal is waiting at the baggage carousel.

I had no trouble picking out Crystal from the pictures Nancy had shared with me the night when we conceived of Bridget. She was over six-six in five inch heels and dressed in a French maid’s outfit. She sported seamed stockings, very short flounced skirt, ruffled lacy panties clearly visible, low cut bodice, little apron, long fingerless black gloves, and a darling little cap – the whole nine yards. Her nails were sloppy; a five o’clock shadow was clearly visible through her poorly overdone makeup on crude masculine features – a particularly inept transvestite on display for the entire world to see.

I knew she had hormone therapy, but it must have been necessary to implant additional silicon to expand her to a 42DDD-sized bra. She curtsied to Bridget and I in turn, saying, "Welcome to San Francisco mistresses." Then she actually knelt down and kissed Nancy’s feet until told to rise. It was as if a hundred people stopped talking and stared at us, even in San Francisco such public displays caused pause. I felt embarrassed, and Bridget cringed. What the hell was Nancy thinking?

But Nancy only said, "Bridget dear, please stay with Crystal and point out you luggage, Crystal will carry it to the curb for you. Catherine and I will bring the car to the curb.

When we were alone Bridget said Crystal was sulky, snotty, and generally rude to her – even though she pretended worshipful subservience.

Walking to the car Nancy explained, "Crystal is hopeless, two years ago I gave up all efforts to make her passable. Now, since she doesn’t try at all, it is her lot to be a travesty. She really likes, demands in her own way, to be humiliated, the more the better, she is into pretty heavy pain and bondage too. She is a virtual slave to me, but an increasing liability, I’m thinking of selling her."

"My god, I didn’t realize you are so into leather and whips. Don’t make any mistakes about Bridget, she is my spouse and we enjoy a loving relationship as equals, the training you helped me with is over, and the result is spectacularly successful as you can see."

"How does that affect our relationship little sister?"

"It need only make it better, Bridget has agreed to physically love you as she does me. She is extremely talented, it’s like she is wired into your nervous system. Remember the long nights when we shared our bed with Nichole? Well, Bridget is a hundred times more sensitive than Nichole; trust me you are in for a treat. But if you wish to be alone with me, Bridget has agreed to give us space."

"Hummm, it appears we will have a interesting Christmas, I’m wet just thinking about it. Nichole could warm my bed any time. I have a catered dinner scheduled for delivery when we arrive home, lets change into something comfortable and eat, then retire and eat some more." Nancy ended with a wicked smile

The two old friends chatted about everything, and between the walk to the car, the endless convolutions of the ramps, heavy traffic, and accidents due to slippery ramps, the return to the pick up area took almost a half hour. Crystal loaded the bags into the white Mercedes’ trunk and sat in the rear, Bridget pointedly motioned me to move over and sat in the front seat next to me. I confess that I used my closeness to Nancy to touch her in erotic ways. A finger check showed Nancy to be really wet, and when Nancy turned away I held the finger for Bridget to sniff, and we both giggled.

While Nancy showed us her home, Crystal brought our luggage up to our rooms using the servant’s stairs. Nancy’s home was sumptuous; it was a four-story structure on prestigious Nob Hill, all the houses in the area were painted various pastel shades, hers was pink. The lowest floor was a two-car garage and her office; one other surgeon shared the office, and the four person staff. They also covered for one another for emergencies. The second floor had a very large dining room/living room, den, kitchen, three powder rooms, and a pantry. The third floor held three bedroom suites each with a small sitting room, bedroom, and bath. Two of the tile baths had large tubs with whirlpool units installed. The forth floor held a large storage area, one large and three small bedrooms intended for live in help and two baths. The largest of those bedrooms was a nicely equipped dungeon, Bridget didn’t say anything, but it was clear she didn’t approve, not one little bit.

Nancy was a highly competent urologist with a sub specialty of endocrinology and general surgery, the high fees she commanded showed in the lavish décor and artwork throughout her home.

She mentioned she was having a New Years Eve party, and that some of the eclectic mix of guests would bring a personal slave expecting to stow them in the dungeon for mutual amusement – of the masters and mistresses. Again Bridget didn’t say anything, but her face held contempt and disgust, to tell the truth I was finding this disquieting also.

The doorbell rang, and Nancy said it was most likely dinner as it was the delivery entrance bell that had rung. We went downstairs and sat at the dining room table. There were three places, each beautifully set with an Irish linen tablecloth, Gold trim Limoges china, and gold silverware. Each place setting included seven crystal goblets of various sizes, and the only light from a dozen or more candles reflected wildly by all the crystal. It was quite beautiful, I was impressed, I looked at Bridget while Nancy’s back was turned and saw she was frowning. I looked toward the corner of the room and saw an ornate pet food service on the floor, a bowl of water, and an empty bowl. The holder the bowls were in was clearly marked ‘Crystal.’ Oh shit, I didn’t like it one little bit, but I hoped Bridget would refrain from saying anything.

The first course was chilled grapefruit soused a generous ounce of orange liquor, Crystal served a fruity sherry from an ornate decanter, but the caterer’s people served the grapefruit. It was delightful and we had no trouble eating the perfectly sectioned grapefruit, Bridget found it particularly delicious, and raved to Nancy complementing her on her most excellent selection.

The caterer’s people removed the grapefruit and served a salmon section, with a delicious garlic sauce and crisp Rhine wine, Crystal removed our now empty sherry goblets and served a chilled Korbel extra dry Champaign with a medallion of English sole. It was delicious, and fish and wine disappeared.

Next, the caterer served a small ball of tart lime sorbet to refresh our pallets, and Crystal refreshed our Champaign glasses.

That was followed by a small boneless veal chop. It was enhanced with a highly refined Chablis sauce, three small new potatoes, and a colorful pinch of stir-fried fresh vegetables. The wine was chilled Fitzer Chablis, Nancy and I had two, but Bridget sipped water and made her wine last.

Next a small ball of bitter orange sorbet was served to refresh our pallets.

Followed by a small filet of beef with a smidgeon of delightful béarnaise, a plump batter dipped onion ring and a few tiny Belgium carrots – it melted in your mouth. A delicious burgundy accompanied, Bridget’s sublime expression said it all.

The dessert was a flambé of a peach half and fresh cherries, a lovely German dessert wine accompanied. When we were finished, and the caterer’s people cleared the dishes away, Crystal served a fine California brandy in a snifter and offered us fine Cuban cigars. That was over the top as none of us smoked, much less cigars – however Bridget made a production of selecting one, for later she said.

While we were laughing and enjoying our brandy Crystal went to the kitchen, returning with an open can of Alpo beef chunks (dog food) on a silver tray. She dumped it in her bowl on the floor, dropped to her knees, and in full French Maid’s outfit ate her dinner by putting his face in the bowl and slurping it up.

Nancy suggested we retire early, her expression made it clear – sleep was the furthest thing from her mind.

Tucking Crystal in for the Night

Nancy’s bedroom was by far the largest, and held the largest bed I had ever seen. Bridget suggested we try out the hot tub and get better acquainted, and when Nancy nodded an enthusiastic yes, Bridget started the water and set the temperature. While Bridget was watching the water Nancy and I embraced, my disquiet over Crystal’s treatment were instantly transformed to lust.

Without a thought I dropped to my knees and worked on her clit until she was about to climax, I heard the door open and Crystal’s poorly timed cough, I felt Nancy tense with anger, but she said mildly, "Run up to your room and wash up, I will be right there." I heard the door close and she said to me, "Bastard, Catherine, please continue."

Several minutes later her body relaxed, and soon my magic tongue gave her the ultimate satisfaction. She managed to remain standing, but it was a good minute before she spoke.

"Oh Catherine, that was terrific. Would you and Bridget like to watch me tuck Crystal in for the night?"

I wasn’t sure what we would watch, but as the water would stop on it’s own we followed Nancy upstairs. I wasn’t surprised, but I regretted Bridget would see this, she kept a neutral expression throughout, but I could see the pulse in her neck pulsing.

Crystal was naked, kneeling down with her nose pressed to the floor; his hands were clasped its opposite forearm tightly behind her back

"Crystal," she said sternly, "did you wash your face and brush your teeth?"

"Yes Mistress."

"Did you hang up your pretty uniform, and wash your undies."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Must you be flogged tonight, yet again?"

"Yes mistress, eleven strokes with the cat, plus your penalty for interrupting your pleasure."

"Let me inspect you, stand and face me."

It was clear his face wasn’t washed, Alpo gravy mixed with his messed makeup. I could smell his breath from five feet distance.

"Lying pig, into the bathroom, cold cream your face and brush your teeth, and do your filthy business. I don’t have time for your insolence tonight."

While she was doing a half assed job of cleaning up, Nancy left for a minute and returned with an enormous full enema bag, she pressed a button on a remote and a chain recessed in the ceiling dropped. She hung the bag on that. The toilet flushed and Crystal emerged, significant traces of makeup remained, but the dog food was not evident from where I stood, and I no longer smelled his foul breath.

Nancy pressed another button and another chain dropped with a five-inch hoop at the end. Crystal gripped it and Nancy pressed a button drawing it to toward the ceiling, stopping when she was on tiptoes. She opened a closet with many bondage devices and whips in evidence, selected a mean looking cat-o-nine-tails, and said, "Ready pig? Count until I say stop."

As he asked for each lash, she flogged hard, at ten strokes thighs, buttocks and back was cherry red. Nancy asked, "Catherine care to relieve me?"

I probably would have, the feeling of power one feels is a real rush, but I didn’t think Bridget would approve. "No thanks Nancy, not tonight."

To my surprise when Nancy asked Bridget she said yes! I thought I saw her game, she would hit softly to spare Crystal further pain.

Her first stroke was not hard, but fell accurately, from my angle I could see Crystal smirk, she had deduced the same. The very next stroke was hard, much harder than Nancy’s, I always misjudge Bridget’s strength as she is very strong and is in excellent shape. It looked like one of the tails drew blood, so the next strokes were a bit lighter.

After the eighteenth lash Nancy said, "That is all I require Bridget, however if you desire please continue."

"No Nancy, but thank you for your offer, I merely was curious."

Nancy put on rubber gloves inserted the enema bag’s nozzle/plug, inflated it vigorously, and had Crystal lay down on the bed, from the way he sunk in; it had to be a waterbed. He had several rings through various parts of his body; the most fascinating was a stainless steel, about two-inch diameter, eighth inch thick monster through his cock head, not through a piece of foreskin and a little cock meat like Bridget’s delicate gold ring, but this was right through the middle of his cock an inch from the head. Nancy had him lay down on the bottom sheet, attached a chain from both sides of the bed to the ring, and handcuffed his wrists to a neck collar. The ring through his cock effectively chained him to the middle of his bed.

She explained, "All he has to do is say his safety word, and these restraints release, they will also release if the electric power fails. In the morning he will release himself to begin his daily tasks, of course if he says his safety word before then he must leave here forever."

She released the water into him, removed the hose, but leaving the large inflated plug to effectively seal his butt hole. He looked very uncomfortable as Nancy covered him, as we left the room.

Nancy’s parting words were, "Don’t pee again in your sleep, you sissy pig."

I knew there was no way he could avoid doing so, unless he used his safety word, a large portion of the enema would be absorbed and fill his balder within hours. I knew Bridget knew from experience, abet much more loving experience, what he was in store for. I didn’t understand why she had chosen to flog Crystal; I made a mental note to ask when we were alone.

Nice fun and games

After Crystal was put to bed the warmth of the hot tub’s circulating water relaxed everyone, Nancy sat sandwiched between Bridget and I and we both began petting our hostess, finally she could take it no more and demanded to be taken to bed. Twenty minutes later we let her out of the tub, I was afraid she would cum from just moving about, does quivering mass of desire sound right?

We did just about everything, for the next three hours, finally falling into an exhausted sleep about two AM. The next day was Christmas Eve, and we basically stayed in bed until dinnertime. Each of us had a turn being loved and teased by the other two.

When it was Bridget’s turn we were very loving and gentle with her, Nancy couldn’t get over Bridget’s ability to have female like orgasms. We gave her several loving douches (actually enemas,) then did wonderful things to her sweet pussy, clit, tits; etc. When we finally relented, she must have enjoyed a dozen female like orgasms to each the three mind-blowing male ejaculations.

About eleven Crystal brought us lunch, but she looked and smelled filthy. Nancy ordered her to bathe, and without being asked Bridget prepared a new meal of fresh fruit, cheese, and delicious hot rolls.

When my turn to be loved came, I received several douches (both actual and enemas) and between the things Nancy remembered from college, and those Bridget knew, I was in sustained heaven and experienced uncounted orgasms. The bed’s satin sheets positively reeked of sex, and I wallowed in it to the fullest. In the weeks and months to come I found out Bridget was paying attention, as one after another of Nancy’s tricks surfaced in our love making.

Bridget only used he clit to stimulate Nancy and I by anal penetration and rubbing our outer lips and clits, she made no attempt to penetrate our vagina’s – I was sure she only wanted to do that with me, and didn’t want Nancy to feel bad by doing me and refusing her.

After lunch we just talked for quite a while, I realize Bridget steered the conversation, I didn’t recognize then how subtle and manipulative she could be.

We were all bad little girls at one time or another and had to receive sound, bare bottom, bare hand spankings, followed by monster sexual release. About nine AM, Shortly after we woke, Nancy spanked Bridget; she was a fearsome spanker, as she kept herself in excellent shape for long hours of surgery. Bridget (and I in my turn about noon) cried real tears, kicked her legs, to no avail pleaded for mercy – but the evil stepfather (Nancy) took Bridget using a double dildo through the back door, and in my turn he nailed me through the front, great god what monster Os we had. Before supper, Nancy received her spanking from Bridget, a very, very sound spanking, soon followed by a corresponding enormous O, and a very uncomfortable bottom during the modest, but delicious catered supper in the dining room.

At supper Nancy asked Bridget to watch television for a little while in the downstairs den, while she and I had some time upstairs alone. Bridget didn’t mind, so climbed the stairs arm in arm, while Bridget watched a tape of Brigadoon.

Nancy and Catherine are kidnapped, that very night by Master Matrix, but will San Francisco’s primer dungeon master ever be the same? In the final book of ‘Roger’s Plight’ the answer is.

However, the second and next book is the story of ‘Roger’s Plight’ from Roger’s point of view. Coming soon…

 

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