TRADING PLACES By Ms. Desiree Foster

  Part 1

 
As I watched from across the street, my mother's car pulled out of the
driveway that fateful Monday one year ago, I was filled with mixed
emotions. First I was glad that I was going to be, more or less, on my
own. I was 17 and figured that I could take care of myself. Second,
the person that had been charged with keeping an eye on me was my
'Aunt' Monica. She had lived with my mother and me ever since my Mom
had divorced my Father ten years ago. My mother was 34 and Monica is
32. We live in Los Angeles, in the hills above the San Fernando
valley. Our house is five bedrooms, built back when houses got built
big, about 5400 square feet. Aunt Monica worked at a psychiatric
hospital in Ridgecrest, a tiny town out in the middle of the Mojave
Desert and it was a three hour one way drive, so she rarely comes home
during the week. I figured that I had at least 5 days to myself. The
third reason was that I had the keys to my sisters house in my hands,
well in my bedroom actually. Oh, no one knew I had them. Three weeks
ago, Jessica, my sister, had been over talking to Mom and Monica when
they had decided on the spur of the moment to go to the movie. They
asked me if I wanted to go with them, and I had declined on the
grounds of homework. It was an hour after they left in Mom's Cadillac,
Jessica owns a Corvette and Monica a Porsche, that I noticed, laying
on the couch, Jessica's key ring. In a flash the keys were in my hand
and I was out the door and off on my bike. I have my license but no
car so I peddled down to the 7-11 about a mile away. It cost me, but
in 15 minutes, I had a full set of Jessica's keys. Now, I know your
wondering why I would want the keys to my sister's house. First,
because she was going into the hospital for three weeks, no she's not
sick, she suffers from an 'eating disorder' and she was using her
vacation time in hopes of beating it once and for all. I didn't
understand why she's wasn't happy with herself, she's was a model and
also owned a very successful model agency. As far as looks go she has
a 38DD, 22, 36 figure and the best face and hair money can buy.
Second, because she has a state of the art alarm system that requires
a key to turn off. Third, because she has a fur vault in her basement
that also need a key, and a sub basement that I've never been in, also
locked with a key, keys that I now possessed. Third, well that will
just have to wait.

As I watched Mom's Eldorado slowly back out, I thought how lucky it
was that she had been called out of town, she's a costume designer for
Universal Studio's and the offer had been to good to turn down.
Needless to say, her closets were stuffed to overflowing with clothes.
She had worked on both Dallas and Dynasty. In fact, she had done most
of Joan Collins and Emma Sams clothes. Anyway, the house was now mine
and more importantly, Jessica's house was now mine. First, I packed a
few things, everyone has a few favorite items that you always want
along. Next, I phoned Mark. I had met Mark at a Christmas party my Mom
threw last December for some of the people she worked with. I had
pretty much stayed out of the way and was down in the basement playing
Nintendo when he had wandered down. We hit it off right away and he
told me he was a makeup artist at the studio. I ask him if he just did
regular stage makeup or if he did FX type work. Mark smiled and said
that he did both, but was more interested in the FX work than just
smearing pancake on over priced meat. After playing a couple of games,
Mark asked if I had a steady girlfriend and I had to admit I didn't.
He put the TETRIS cartridge in the game and we went at it. We split
the first two games and I suggested that were go for three out of
five. Mark said sure. He then asked how tall I was. I asked him why he
wanted to know. He said something about not getting all defensive. He
smiled and said that he was only 5'7" and it just seemed that we were
about the same height. I grinned and said I was sorry, but I got a lot
of shit about my height, and yes we were about the same height. If I'd
have told the truth, I'd have to tell him I was only 5'6". I won the
next game, but just barley. Mark suggested a break and went upstairs
and brought down some chips, dip and four diet cokes. While we drank
the cokes, Mark asked me if I was a swimmer or a runner. I asked why
did he think I was a swimmer. He replied that I was slim and not
heavily muscled. I told Mark that, I just seemed lately to be losing
weight, but I'd been to a Doctor and I checked out fine.

Mark won the next game and we got ready for the deciding game. Just
before we started, Mark suggested a bet, if he won, tomorrow we'd do
whatever he wanted, no matter what. If I won, tomorrow we'd do any-
thing I wanted, no matter what. I said sure, that sounds good to me. I
lost.

Early the next morning, Mom left to go to a planning conference in New
York city and wouldn't be back till late the next day. Monica came
knocked on my door about 9:30. She was dressed in one of her white
pant suit style uniforms, white flat nursing shoes and her long brown
hair was done up in a tight bun. As always, when she was going to
work, Monica wore almost no makeup and had just a coat of clear polish
on her short nails. She told me that there was an emergency at work
and she had to go out to Ridgecrest and wouldn't be back till after
midnight tomorrow. I rolled back over in bed and shut my eyes as I
heard Monica's Porsche pull out of the garage and down the drive.
About ten minuets later I heard another car pull up. I'd forgotten all
about the bet with Mark. I jumped up and pulled on some sweats as the
doorbell rang. Trying pull the sweat shirt over my head, I dashed down
the hall to the front door. Monica stood there, still in one of her
nurses uniforms, but dressed for a completely different effect. Her
luxuriant, long, brown hair was fixed exactly like Kristi Allie wears
hers on 'CHEERS'. Her face was exotically made up with heavy blue
eyeliner, lots of pale blue eyeshadow, long, lush false eyelashes
covered in navy blue mascara, bright pink lipstick, blush that made
her cheekbones high and sexy. The miniskirt her tightly cut white
cotton uniform barely covered her shapely white nyloned thighs. My
eyes slowly ran down her superb, sumptuous, round, body, her rock hard
nipples clearly visible through the stiffly starched material. Her
accessories went perfectly with her uniform, hair and make up. A
white, dainty white leather watch graced her slender wrist, her inch
and a half long nails were a wet, glossy hot pink. Her name tag, read
'MONICA - HEAD NURSE'. Her white plastic stethoscope hung down between
the cleavage of her voluptuous 38DD breasts, huge globes of firm
female flesh that threatened to escape from the cups of the white
satin bra who's pale pink lace trim was clearly visible. Her starched
white nurses cap was pinned on the back of her head at a seductive
angle. She stood on the front porch, swaying slightly in the her white
pumps with sexy four inch spiked heels, her brown eyes sparkling, and
a pretty, pouting smile on her lovely face. I stood there, unable to
stop staring at the wet dream come to life standing in front of me.
"Well aren't you going to invite me in Richard." The face and body
were Monica, but the voice was Mark's. I couldn't believe my eyes and
ears. It couldn't be. I look harder at the vision of female beauty
standing in front of me. The resemblance was uncanny. "Richard, it's
cold out here and while I hope you like what you see, if you don't let
me inside I'm going to freeze. Or is it that you want me to sound more
like I look?" Marks voice suddenly rose to a beautiful, soft, sexy
contralto. "Please Richard, can I come in?"

I stepped aside and mumbled. "Sure, come on in. God Mark, what are you
doing dressed up like that? Are those Monica's things? If she finds
out you got them, she'll throw a shit fit."

Mark stepped inside the entry and shut the door behind himself.
"What's the matter Rick, don't you like what you see?" Mark asked, his
voice an excellent imitation of Monica's. "I tried my best to look as
good for you as I could" He pouted, "I thought you'd enjoy seeing me
dressed in this outfit." Doing a slow turn and posing like a sexy
girl, Mark continued. "Last night I went through Monica's closet and
picked out the sexiest nurse's outfit I could, every stitch I have on
is Monica's, her panties, her hose, her heels, her lingerie, her
uniform, her jewelry, her makeup, her perfume, everything. Do you
think I look good dressed just like Monica, made up just like Monica?"
"You look beautiful Mark." I stammered. "Rick, do I look like Monica?"
"Yes, I guess so?" "And do I sound like Monica?" "Uh Huh, I suppose
so." "Then Rick, why don't you call me Monica, I'd like that very
much." "I guess so, uh Monica?" "Yes Rick" "Just what do you want to
do now?" I asked hoping that he hadn't noticed the growing erection in
my sweats. Mark, well I guess I should think of him as Monica, stepped
up close to me. Slowly, with a sexy pout, his, well her, soft hands
gently traced the outline of my now rock hard cock with her long,
perfectly polished nails. "I think you love what you see, and I think
you want me to make that sweet, hard cock of yours feel good. Would
you like me to suck your cock Rick?" As she spoke my Monica slowly
began to gently massage my now straining hard-on. The sweet smell of
Monica's perfume made me a little dizzy, as she bent down and gently
kissed me, the creamy taste of her lipstick making my heart pound. As
we kissed, I felt her tongue gently push at my teeth, and then sudden-
ly, my tongue was in her mouth and hers in mine. I couldn't believe
what I was doing, I was french kissing another guy, another guy who
was stroking my rock hard penis through my sweat pants. It felt
wonderful. Then Monica pulled away. "Promise me you'll do what I want
after I make you feel good Rick. Will you?" Her beautiful brown eyes
stared into mine. "What ever you want Monica." Then as her had snaked
into my sweats and gently took my cock in her silky smooth hand. "Oh
god that feels so nice!" I moaned. She began to french my ear, the
after a few seconds, she whispered. "I want to dress you up, I want
you to wear your mothers clothes and let me make you up to look like
her, would you like to do that with me? How would you like to be
Christina for me while I'm Monica for you?" I couldn't believe what I
heard myself answer. "I'd love that Monica, but there is no way that I
can get away with looking like Mom, I mean, I'm a 16 year old boy and
she's a 34 year old woman." Rick, you have to trust me, would you have
believed me last night if I told you that I could wear Monica's
clothes, have Monica's face, have a body that perfectly fills out
Monica's sexy uniform? Would you have believed I could be Monica for
you. We can have fun, I can give you more pleasure then you can
imagine." As she spoke in the tenderest of whispers, her tender
assault on my cock had increased, Do you want me to suck you now or do
you want to wait until your my lesbian lover? Well darling?" "Please
Monica, my cocks so full of cum my balls hurt, please make me feel
better." We kissed again as she carefully used her free hand to pull
my sweat pants down, the right there in the entry, she gracefully sank
to her nyloned knees and holding my cock gently, her long, wet, pink
tongue flicked out to lick the head of my tool. I couldn't believe the
waves of pleasure that washed over me as she licked and kissed my
cock. Then slowly her mouth engulfed my cock while her right hand
softly squeezed the base of my shaft and her left lightly massaged my
now aching balls. Unable to look away, I watched her head as she
slowly pistoned her satiny pink lips up and down my shaft. I felt her
long brown hair brush my naked thigh with each forward thrust of her
head and could hear the wet sucking sound of her lips as they slid up
and down my lipstick smeared tool. Her fingers slowly increased their
pressure on the base of my prick while the other had milked and rubbed
with increasing vigor my taunt distended balls. The sensation of her
warm, wet mouth caused me to moan with pleasure as she continued her
expert oral rapture of my engorged manhood. Every time when I believed
that I could stand it no longer and my cock would attempt to shoot
it's milky load into the wonderful waiting warmth of Monica mouth, she
would expertly squeeze the base of my shaft and deny me the pleasure I
was now begging her for. I promised to let her dress me up however she
wanted, wear anything she said, act however pleased her, say whatever
she wanted me to say, only, I begged her to please allow me to cum.
Just when I believed I couldn't stand it any longer, Monica took me
deep in her mouth and skillfully brought me to a shattering climax. It
felt as if my balls were literally exploding there load of cum into
her waiting mouth. As I came, she redoubled her efforts, both with her
mouth and hands. It seemed as if I would never stop, the jets of cum
keep squirting into her mouth, as I whimpered with pleasure. Finally I
was totally spent, my balls so empty that they ached with the pleasure
they had given up. Monica (I found that I really wanted to think of
Mark as Monica) gracefully stood, and took my head between her hands
and guided my lips to hers. Her mouth was still full of my salty,
milky white cum, cum that her tongue began to transfer to my waiting
mouth. Half of my mind wanted to push her away, but that was the
weaker half. The stronger urge was to melt into this beautiful she-
male's arms and to share my milky treasure, to greedily lap with my
tongue at the seed that I had spilled into her insatiable mouth. After
a long, wet, cum sharing kiss, Monica slowly broke her sperm covered
lips away from mime. "Well" She cooed. "Did you enjoy that, I did. You
have a wonderful cock, I love feeling is silky head in my mouth. I
hope you'll let me enjoy it again after I get you dressed up. Your
going to make a wonderful, beautiful woman Rick. Trust me." As she
spoke, she lead me into my mothers huge, opulent bedroom. Mom's
bedroom looked like something right off the pages of a Barbara Cart-
land novel, all pastel satin, lace, and velvet. Her room was dominated
by a huge canopied bed, covered in pink satin pillows and lavish with
white lace shams.

Over the next two hours Monica prepared the form (as she put it). It
started with a long soak in scented bubble bath while Monica brought
her equipment in from Mark's car. Pulling on clear, ultra thin latex
gloves, Monica gently smoothed softly scented delapitory cream over my
entire body. As soon as the pink cream was showered off(and my body
hair along with it), Monica carefully shaved what little stubble
remained. It felt funny to have a totally denuded body. And I meant
totally, Monica had even gotten rid of my pubic hair. Monica sat me
down at my Mothers makeup table (which resembled the makeup department
at Liberty House) and carefully tweezed my brows into high, arching
line. I tried to object to having my brow made so feminine, but she
showed me how to use some fake one to hide the alteration. Try as I
could, I couldn't tell the difference with the fake ones on. Next,
Monica waxed the brow lines, my upper lip, cheeks, and chin (I've
always had very light, fine facial hair). After Monica finished
removing little there was, she fitted a flesh toned latex skull cap
over my short brown hair. She cemented the cap down with spirit gum
and blended the seam away with pancake makeup. Looking back at me from
the mirror was a androgenous stranger, bald, with woman's eyebrows and
a completely hairless body. Then my transformation began. First I was
given breasts. A form fitting flesh toned latex torso was glued in
place. As she blended away the seams Monica explained. "With this on
sweetheart, no one would ever guess that these mounds weren't real
girl flesh. Once the latex warms up the look and feel is indistin-
guishable from skin. You can even sweat through this compound. Your
going to be so pretty, now let me work out this tiny wrinkle. There!
You have the same bust size as Christina, in fact now that you have
Christina's breasts, I'll just call you Christina from now on. Would
you like that lover?" Shyly I answered. "I guess so Monica." "OK
Christina." She purred. The person in the mirror now featured a full,
womanly set of 40DD breasts, completes with dark brown areolae's and
stiffly erect inch long nipples. Once Monica finished her make up
magic, all trace of the false latex skin disappeared and my upper
torso was now for all intents a beautiful, voluptuous, woman's. Monica
told me to spread my legs wide and sit still while she gave me a
'honey hole'. I watched in disbelief as she worked my now limp cock
into an ultra thin latex sleeve, not unlike a condom, except this on
had a thin tube coming out the end. The latex was lubricated with some
type of cream, both very slippery and very cold. I started to object
as my cock seemed to shrivel up and almost disappear, but a stern word
from Monica to 'Just be quite Christina' shut me up. Once both my now
tiny cock and balls were completely engulfed, Monica brought out a
molded latex vagina, complete with a neatly trimmed bush of honey
blond pubic hair and a hint of a clit just barely showing it's nub
from between the moist looking cunt lips. Monica went to work, placing
my cock inside the absolutely lifelike prosthesis. After liberally
coating the underside with a clear jell adhesive of some sort, she
placed the rubber form tightly against my crotch and held it firmly in
place for about sixty seconds. Smiling happily Monica cooed. "Don't
move Christina darling, I have to get something." In just seconds she
was back with a hand held hair dryer, which was quickly plugged in,
turned on and directed at my now completely female crotch. Entranced,
I watched as the flesh toned latex, softened and shrank, molding
itself tightly to me. When Monica finally shut off the dryer, no trace
of a seam remained. I looked down between my legs, shocked, I now had
a pussy! Carefully peeling off the latex gloves, Monica smiled. "There
Christine, your boy meat is all gone now and instead you've got just
the sweetest cunt, and your know how good a cunt can feel." As she
spoke, her soft, gentle hands lightly traced my new breasts, down to
my waist, then tenderly touched my 'pussy'. As her long nail touched
my 'clit' a wave of pleasure shot through me. "MMMMMMMM." I moaned
softly. "Oh Monica, Oh yes, don't stop! That feels wonderful." I
gasped. "Ask me to play with your pussy, beg me, tell me that you need
have your clitty rubbed Christina." Monica's (and he was Monica to me
now) had taken on a demanding tone that I hadn't been aware of before.
I realized that if I did what Monica was demanding, she would be the
one in charge. But, then, that seemed at the time a little thing to
give up in return for the pleasure that I was receiving. A truly
submissive whimper had crept into my voice as I begged Monica to keep
making me feel good. "God yes Monica, please play with my pussy, I
love what your doing. I love having you rub my clitty, yes, just like
that. Oh Jesus, that feels nice, I love being your girl, your lesbian
lover, make me into my mommy, make me Christina just for you. Please,
please, don't stop. Yes, please, Yes. YES! Oh God, yes, that's right,
yes, make my clitty cum! I love you Monica, I'm yours, all yours, I'll
do anything, just finish me, please." Suddenly, Monica stopped.
"Please Monica, please don't stop." I sobbed. "That's right Christine,
beg me. Now promise me that you will do anything I say. Promise
Christine." "I promise Monica, I'll let you do anything to me, with
me." "And you'll wear what ever I want you to?" "Yes Monica, you can
dress me up anyway you want." "And you'll be whoever I want." "Yes
Monica, anybody, just please, do me some more." "I'm your lover, your
dearest darling, aren't I?" "Yes Monica." "Then you should talk to me
like your lover, from now on, start each sentence with 'Darling', do
you understand?" "OK Monica, I mean, Yes darling, I understand." "I
like hearing you talk like that Christina, now pet, what's your name?"
Darling, my name is Christina." Monica resumed masturbating my clitty-
cock and again I was caught up in the tide of pleasure that washed
over me. Her finger rubbed the latex sleeved nub of my completely
concealed manhood as I withered and moaned on the velvet covered
stool. As the bliss built to it's shattering climax I could hear
myself screaming "Yes darling, do me, do my clit darling, yes, do me,
make me cum darling." Then suddenly I orgasmed with such force that I
all but passed out. When I began to my sense's I could feel Monica
cleaning up my clitty with a soft, damp towel. I gazed lovingly at the
totally female vision in the tight, sexy, white nurses uniform and
moaned. "Darling Monica, I love you. I'll be any girl you want me to
be. Let me be all the women you want, however you want." Monica kissed
me gently, her tongue delicately exploring my docile, waiting mouth
then softly breathed. "I'm going to hold you to exactly that my pretty
baby doll."

My transformation continued as Monica brought out what seemed to be a
wig head made of chrome metal with a number of clear, thin vinyl hoses
leading into it. She explained that this was a little invention of
hers. The inside of the head now contained a bust of my mother,
created my a computer from digitized photographs. The head would be
hooked up to Monica's laptop which would the create a matrix. The head
was lined with a plastic which would then be molded to exactly the
shape of the bust. Once the liner was molded, the chrome head would be
placed over my head and a matrix made of my face. Then a process of
computer controlled liposuction and lipoinjection would begin. Coupled
with spray injections that would cause bee sting like swelling and
applications of a alum like chemical that would cause tissue to
contract, the computer would attempt to create a facial pattern as
close to the matrix held in the memory of the plastic liner. Monica
assured me that there was no permanent damage and that it was possible
to reverse all changes. She did add that the procedure could be a
little painful, so she wanted me to take a shot that would let me
sleep through the changes. I nodded and watched as she took a hypoder-
mic needle, fitted it to a syringe, expertly filled it from a small
vial and injected it into my arm. As I felt a soft, cotton candy
softness envelop me, I watched as she lifted the chrome head and moved
to put it over my face.

I slowly drifted back to wakefulness and discovered that I was laying
in my Mothers huge bed, lightly covered by a pink satin sheet. My eyes
closed again as the events of this unbelievable morning replayed
themselves. As my sense's returned, I noticed a tightness around my
waist that I had never felt before, my eyelids felt heavy and there
was a weight on my earlobes that I'd never felt before. Large portions
of my face felt slightly numb, as if I'd been to the dentist. Besides
the weight of the sheet, I knew I was wearing something soft and
silky. With my eyes still shut I rubbed my legs together and was
rewarded with the feel of one nyloned leg caressing the other. Across
my forehead I could feel the downy caress of feathery bangs. I was
afraid to open my eyes, afraid that I would love what I would see.

"Come on sleepy head, rise and shine. It's almost 4 P.M. and if were
going to do anything today you need to get up." Monica's voice purred
in my ear. Slowly I opened my eyes and Monica was standing next to the
bed and offered me her arm as I slowly slid out of the bed onto the
deep, white shag carpet. I turned to look at myself in the full length
mirror, but it was covered with a sheet. Monica caught my puzzled
glance. "I covered it up, I don't want you to see yourself until your
dressed all the way. While you were out, I did your makeup, laced you
into a black satin and lace waist cinch, matching G-string panties,
black sheer seamed hose, black bra, camisole, matching slip and did
your hair and nails." I looked down at my hands and gazed in wonder at
the cherry red 2 inch long sculpted nails that now graced my fingers.
The effect of the ultra feminine nails was to make my fingers look
longer, slimmer and very womanly. I could feel the weight of my new
thick tresses on my head and wondered how I looked, probably like a
teenage boy dressed in girls clothes.

Monica smiled. "Now sweetheart, let's finnish getting yo dressed."
Monica walked over to my Mothers huge walking closet and after a
minuet or so came out carrying a white ascot necked blouse made of
heavy white satin in one hand. I the other hand was a black suede
leather suit. "Monica." I blurted out. "I can't wear that, it will
never fit and even if it did, if I got anything on it, Mom would kill
me!" Monica simply smiled and carefully laid the blouse and suit out
on the bed and returned to the closet. When she emerged the second
time, she carried a pair of high heeled black suede knee high boots, a
black patent leather belt, black suede gloves and a black patent
leather Gucci clutch with a fine gold chain strap. Again I tried to
object. "Come on Monica, Mom is going to know someone has been in her
things. Besides, I can't wear Mom's shoes, they'll never fit and I've
never worn high heels." Monica simply ignored my protests and began to
go through Mom's jewelry box, In short order a onyx and gold broach,
gold lady Rolex, onyx tennis bracelet and matching friendship ring
joined the growing pile on the bed.
"Monica, please, those are Mom's things and.." I began to whine. "Shut
up!" Monica snapped, her voice suddenly demanding and totally in
control. "These are your things, aren't they Christina my sweet?"
Taken completely aback, I blurted back "Monica, nobody is going to
believe I'm my mother." Monica stepped over to me and in a stern and
somewhat forbidding voice said to me. "Richard, this is the last time
I shall warn you. I am becoming quite tired of your whining, self
pity, and uncooperative attitude. Now listen to me, from this second
on, you will answer only to your mothers name, you will dress in
whatever I tell you without a word on complaint. Any identity that I
tell you to assume, you will. And further more you will attempt it to
the very best of your ability. By that I mean that you will mimic her
voice, mannerisms, personality, everything. Now do you understand me?"
"I guess so", I mumbled. The open handed slap caught me completely by
surprise. It stung my right cheek far more then it really hurt. "Shut
up, I don't want to hear another word out of you. Monica roughly
grabbed my arm and jerked me to my feet. Without another word she
wrenched my right arm behind my back and a second later I heard a
metallic 'click' then my left arm was forced behind my back and a
second click. With a start I realized that my hand were now hand
cuffed behind me. "Monica, please, I'm sorry, I'll...." Her second
slap was directed at my left cheek. "I told you to shut up." I'm sick
of your constant whining. I was then shoved over to my mother's
dressing table, the mirror covered with one of mom's black satin
sheets and forced to sit. Monica quickly tied my nyloned legs tightly
to the red velvet french provincial stools ornate legs then tied my
cuffed hands to the back of the stool. I was completely helpless now,
unable to stand. "There, that should keep you from wandering around
while I run out to the car. Now don't struggle or your run your silky
sheer hose dear and then I would really be unhappy with you sweetest."

I sat there, helpless and bound, silent, afraid and excited, dressed
in my mother's beautiful black lingerie. I could feel the silky caress
of her slip whose slit showed off my sheer nyloned leg and thighs, her
lavish, silky camisole the concealed her breathtakingly tight waist
cinch and her DD cup bra.

  Part 2

As I heard Monica's, well really Mark's, high heels click down the
hall, I began to appreciate just how helpless I was. Suddenly thoughts
of Jeffrey Damler and Hannibal Lector began to race through my mind. I
tried to stand up and couldn't, tried to lift my cuffed hand up over
the top of the stool back, no luck. Real panic set in. I tried to
stand again and this time fell over. I lay on the plush pink shag
carpet struggling against the cuffs as tears began to course down my
made up cheeks. Suddenly a pair of white spiked heels appeared in
front of my face. I felt Monica's hands under my arms and the chair
was pushed upright. Monica knelt between my bound thighs and suddenly
my face was in soft, gentle hands and her soft and her wet, pink lips
were softly pressed against mine. After a wonderful, long tender kiss,
Monica pull back and still holding my head in her hands began to kiss
my tears away. Between her kisses Monica explained; "Poor baby, your a
mess, you've mussed your hair and ruined your makeup. Now lover, I
want you to calm down.... there, that's better. That's my beautiful
girl. See baby, everything alright. I'd never really hurt you darling,
sometimes being helpless is a real turn on. What we're doing is called
bondage and if you try, it can be very exciting. Your very beautiful
sitting here all tied up, so sweet and helpless. I want you to feel
sexy and very feminine, just like a desirable, gorgeous, submissive
woman. We can be each other's lesbian lover, but we have to trust each
other. Today, because your so new to this, I'm going to dominate you,
be the one in charge. Another day, if you want, I'll be your slut
slave and we can make each other feel very, very good. Now, I can
understand that things have gone very fast for you, but I want you to
enjoy all that's happening to you. I promise that I'll never really
hurt you, do you believe me darling?" Monica sealed her promise with a
wonderfully long, loving, kiss. "As she broke her lips away from mine
I sighed; "Yes Monica I believe you, I've never felt like this and I
guess I'm scared at what happening. I never thought dressing like a
woman could be such a turn on and I sure never thought that my first
real girl friend would be such a special girl, one with a wonderful
cock." Then calling on a skill that I had developed over five years of
making 'Mother's' calls to my school, I raised my voice a octave and
looking straight into my beautiful shemale lover's eyes and softly
asked: " Now Monica untie me please and fix my makeup, straighten my
hair and help me get dressed, we have lot's to do today." Monica's
face lit up in an angelic smile as she purred; "Christina!?" "Yes
darling, I'm Christina just like you want. I know what a bitch I can
be when I'm upset and I'm sorry. I'd love having you be in charge
today. If I have heard you tell me once, I've heard it a hundred
times. 'Christina your a real power bitch and you love being in
charge.' But I don't really, today you be the way I everyone thinks
that I am. I'm going to be the way I always have dreamt of being. Now
isn't that the way you want me to be, just like Christina on the
outside and just like you secret slave slut on the inside?" Inside of
a minuet, I was free and in ten my makeup was repaired and my hair
returned to a perfectly coiffed state.

I stood up and straightened my slip and camisole and walked over to
the bed where the outfit Monica had laid out was neatly piled. I
picked up the white, heavy satin blouse, slid my arms into the silky
sleeves, and letting myself go totally, turned to Monica and smiled;
"Please darling help me button up this." As I let Monica button the
back of the blouse I buttoned, or rather tried to fasten the six tiny
pearl buttons at each cuff. I found it impossible with the long 'fuck
me' red nails that now graced my fingers. Monica gently but firmly
spanked my fingers; "Now Christina, let me help, your such a helpless
thing." As Monica carefully fasted the delicate pearl buttons to the
finely tailored blouse, I found myself enjoying the attention. Once
she finished with the buttons, Monica carefully tied the high, tight,
ascot neck to Mother's blouse and fastened Mother's onyx broach at my
neck. "There, that will help hide you adam's apple, for now. Lift your
right foot sweetheart, good....Now the right, there. Let's get your
blouse tucked in....There." I felt and heard Monica close the zipper
to Mother's, no Christina's, my, calf length black suede, tightly
tapered, skirt. Monica soft voice whispered in my ear; "You look yummy
darling, sit down and let's put your boots on. No dear, that not how
you sit down. Stand up and try again, smooth your skirt under you and
remember to sit like a lady, that's better but do it again." I stood
and reseated myself again and again while Monica polished my movements
and explained just what to do. I tried to remember just how Mother,
Monica and Jessica moved, sat, what they did with there hands, how
they sat, everything. My Monica was lavish with her praise; "Your
turning into a wonderful and beautiful woman darling. I think that
were ready to get your boots on you and see how you do in heels."
Monica unzipped the black suede leather boot with there sexy, gleaming
four inch metallic gold pencil thin spiked heels and the pulled them
carefully on. I couldn't believe it, the boots fit perfectly. Monica
zipped the boots and helped me stand. After about ten minuets of
wobbling around I finally began to get the hang of walking gracefully
in the towering heels and after a half hour of walking and posing for
Monica, she pronounced me ready. "Baby, you have a real talent for
this Christina honey. Looking at you standing there, no one will ever
guess your little secret. Tell me Christina, how do you feel?" I
looked down at my hands, the sight of my long red nails against the
black suede leather of my skirt, the sight of my sexy, high heeled
boots, the white satin of my blouse, the hidden tightness of the black
satin waist cinch coupled with the restrictive tightness of my skirt
all combined to excite me beyond my wildest imagination. I gave my
head a little shake and felt the silky hair of my long auburn tresses
brush against my neck. I could taste the creamy red lipstick that made
my lips so kissable feminine, feel the weight of the false eyelashes
and the mask like effect of my makeup. Suddenly, more then anything I
want to see how I looked as a woman, I loved the idea that instead of
a unassuming nothing of a teenage boy that the person that looked back
at from a mirror would be a desirable, sexy, woman dressed the way a
woman should dress, seductive, aristocratic, stunning. The kind of
woman that other women envied and men desired. Stepping close to my
shemale lover I melted into her arms and softly whispered; "How do I
really feel darling? I feel lovely and loved. I want to finnish
getting dressed, everything. I want you to feel towards me the way I
feel towards you." Dropping my eyes from Monica's and my voice down to
a whisper, I continued; "I want you to make my clitty cock feel good
and I want to make your clitty cock feel just as good. And darling, if
I'm a bad girl, I want you to tie me up just as tight as you want to,
if I say bad things you could even gag me." Monica smiled and an-
swered; "I'm going to hold you to that, but first sweetheart, I want
you to become totally comfortable with the changes that your going
through. But before I introduce you to bondage games that big girls
play, I think you should finish getting dressed. Turning, she picked
up the black suede jacket and held it for me while I slipped into it.
As I fastened the jackets bottom button I marveled at how perfect the
fit was. This was all a dream come true. Looking at my long, perfect
shaped, ultra feminine nails, the wet looking cherry red polish that
screamed sex, I truly felt a mental gear shift. I loved the look of
those long, shining, red nails on my hands. I loved the restrictive
feel of the suits tight skirt and the sway of my hips the spiked heels
caused. I tried to form a perfect picture in my mind of how mother
walked, her mannerisms, the way she held her self, her total persona.
Without a word, I walked over to the bed and picked up the long,
dangling gold and onyx earrings and carefully put them on. I let the
Richard part of my mind breath a sigh of relief that he had gotten his
ears pierced a year ago. The weight of the glittering cascades that
hung from my earlobe was both slightly painful and impossibly erotic.
The matching tennis bracelet was next followed by the ring. I picked
up the Rolex with it's black lizard strap and carefully put it on my
left wrist, mincing the gestures that I had seem mother make a thou-
sand times. I picked up my purse and gloves and turned to face Monica.
"Well Monica, how do I look? Do I pass inspection?" As I spoke, I gave
my head a little shake, mother's always doing that and was rewarded by
the sight of the sight of my golden red tresses. Since I was trying so
hard to remember exactly how mother talked, walked, acted and looked I
felt a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Mom's hair was
a golden blond.

"Monica!" I blurted out; "Mom's blond, not a red head." Monica just
laughed; "You silly thing, I was wondering how long it would take you
to notice." As she spoke, Monica pulled away the sheet that covered
the full length mirror. The person whose beautiful reflection stared
back at me literally took my breath away. From her perfectly done mane
of golden auburn hair, her green eyes sparkled from under long, lush
lashes, her face was perfectly made up, her black suede leather suit
showed off her full, splendid female body to perfection. She had firm,
full breasts, a small flat waist, and a great ass, a body that
screamed sex. Her long shapely legs were shown off by the second skin
of black suede leather boots whose four inch heels reinforced the
image of a dominate, completely female on the prowl for cock. The
woman in the mirror, almost of her own volition let a hand with her
long, slick, wet red nails trace her flat waist and slowly rose to her
38DD breasts, breasts that seem even larger due to the small waist. I
both loved and lusted for the woman whose reflection I smiled seduc-
tively at. Yes, she was a perfect study in sex appeal, but ever since
she was 14 Jessica Marie DeChombonard has worked at conveying exactly
that impression, and it was her, my sister, in whose image I was
created. I was her beautiful twin. Monica moved over next to me. "Well
darling, are you pleased?"; she breathed. Unable to tear my eyes away
from the woman that I somehow had become, I answered; "You said you
were going to dress me up like Mommy?" "Darling, I wanted to see if
you could, would, give yourself up to a fantasy role. If you were
willing to play at Christina unseen, I think that you'll love the new
you. I know that I do. Your really very beautiful Jessica." Still
letting my right hand explore my wonderful new shape, I sighed softly
in reply; "I guess so, I don't know. I'd just got used to the idea of
playing at pretending to be Mommy, now you want me to look and act
like Jessica. That's what you want, isn't it?"

When I had asked the question, I'd had no idea just how far Monica
intended to take this game. The rest of the day and late into the
evening passed in a haze. Monica coached me on how top walk, how to
talk, what to say. How to sit, how to stand. How to fix my makeup, how
to straighten my hair. Everything about Jessica, how to let a man
light my cigarette (Virginia slim light 120's). About 9 P.M. the phone
rang and if Monica hadn't warned me, I'd have answered in my new
'Jessica voice'. It was the real Monica. It was a totally surreal
experience, talking to the 'real' Monica while 'my' Monica sat across
from me. The upshot was that Monica wouldn't be home until 9 A.M.
tomorrow. My Monica to the extra time to continue what she now re-
ferred to as my 'charm school' lesson. About midnight, Monica took me
into Mommy's bedroom and had me carefully remove and hang up the suede
suit, the satin blouse and put away the purse, gloves, boots half
slip, camisole and jewelry. I was left standing there in my waist
cinch, hose, panties and bra. Monica went into the closet and returned
with a pair of black patent 5 inch spiked heel pumps and a black
negligee. Now the woman in the mirror was a vision in sheer black lace
and black satin. From a power bitch dressed for success to a beauti-
ful, vulnerable woman dressed for seduction. Leaving me standing
there, Monica disappeared for ten minuets. When she returned, the
nurse was gone, totally. Monica now wore a pink satin and lace garter
belt, matching panties pink lace hose and pink satin mule with soaring
spiked heels. Her hair was done up with a pink satin ribbon and in her
hands she carried a tray with a open bottle of champagne and two
crystal flutes. Sitting the tray down on the bedside table, Monica sat
down on the bed and patted the satin comforter next to her. "Come and
set beside me Darling." Monica's voice had a seductive tone that drew
me to the bed, my knees weak and my pulse pounding. Gracefully she
poured two glasses of the sparkling wine and handed me one. Carefully
taking it, I sipped at the ice cold champagne greedily while Monica
told me how well I had done today and that she knew from the second we
met that she and I would be more then friends. Magically my glass
refilled and Monica shifted to how lovely I was and how for so long
she had hope that I might feel for her what she felt for me. Then, my
glass was empty the full, then empty and I was in Monica's arms, my
lips hard against hers, our tongues exploring each others hungry
mouths. Gently Monica guided my hand to her silky panties and then I
could feel her excitement. Slowly Monica freed herself from the
confines of her panties and I for the first time in my life I found
myself softly stroking someone else's rock hard cock, a beautiful
woman's wonderful satin smooth penis. Taking the empty glass from my
other hand, Monica placed them carefully on the table and moved
further back on the bed and lay back drawing me with her. "That so
nice baby." Monica moaned over and over. Then her hand were on my head
and slowly, gently she began to force my head down towards her waiting
cock. Weakly I tried to resist the gentle but constant pressure the
slowly brought my bright red lip closer and closer to Monica's huge
tool, already wet with pre-cum. "Monica please, I don't want to suck
you, I've never done this. I'm not a sissy." I begged. Monica's strong
hands kept up there relentless pressure and I slowly slid down over
her silky smooth torso. "Yes baby, do me, you. Make me feel good.
Monica needs her cock sucked by her new girlfriend. Come on Jessica,
you're my cocksucking pretty bitch from now on. You're going to do
whatever I tell you and right now Monica says 'suck cock Jessica.' Now
open those pretty red lips and do me, open wide for Monica's nice hard
cock and suck my sweet cum, come on Jessica, my beautiful shemale
darling." Then, there it was, a stiff, hard cock right in front of my
face. A cock free of hair, wet with pre-cum, waiting. "Please Monica!"
I pleaded; "Don't make me do this. I'm not a cocksucker, I'm a good
girl!" Monica's voice snapped like a slap; "No Jessica, your not a
good girl, your a slut, my slut. Now bitch, suck Monica's cock and
pretty bitch Jessica had better suck it right." Almost of their on
volition my lips parted and rounded into the 'O' shape of a whore
getting ready for a big, hard penis. Firmly, but gently, Monica forced
my head down to her waiting tool. Then her cock was against my lips,
the salty taste of her milky pre-cum mixing with the taste of the
champagne, exciting me. I snaked my hand under too gently cup her
silky smooth scrotal sack. The feel of Monica's balls in my hand
excited me even further. My tongue shot out and like a sweet vanilla
ice cream cone, I began to lick my shemale lovers raging hard on. As I
licked, I gently began to squeeze Monica's ball's. My efforts were
reward by a deep moan from my lover; "Oh yes Jessica, that right, that
my darling pretty bitch." Her moan's excited me further, and suddenly
I loved the feel of her satin cock, then surrendering totally to my
new role, I slid my lips down over the head of Monica's beautiful
hard-on. Tounging her inside my mouth brought a sigh of pleasure from
my darling, then I began to slid my lips up and down her shaft, trying
to take as much of her wondrous shemale meat into my mouth as I could.
Monica's hips began to move in rhythm with mine. Her cock oozed a
copious amount of salty pre-cum which mixed with my saliva made her
shaft slick and wet. Then on an upstroke I saw my reflection in the
mirror. I saw a titan haired fox dressed in sexy, tight black linge-
rie, black patent high spiked heels and dusky sheer hose with her
loves lipstick smeared cock between her lips. The fact that her lover
was a beautiful shemale made the picture even more exciting. The
beautiful slut in the mirror was the perfect picture of a cock sucking
whore, dressed to thrill and having her mouth pussy used to please her
lover, her Mistress, her Goddess. unable to tear my eyes away from
this erotic picture, I watch as the slut in the waist crushing black
corset head moved ever faster, as more and more of her darling's cock
slid into her mouth and down her throat with every stroke. Monica was
now screaming "Suck me Jessica, suck me bitch!" over and over, her
hips wildly bucking, her hands pressing hard to force her man-meat
into my hungry mouth. The her entire body convulsed and I felt her
balls literately jump in my gently squeezing hand as my darlings
wonderful cum flooded my now desperate mouth. I swallowed her warm,
salty seed as if it was the finest of wine, the thick white flooded my
hungry mouth. I could feel some escaping my wanting lips. The slut in
the mirror was lapping at her lovers cum like a bitch in heat. And
that is what I was, a bitch whose only thought was cum, cock and
pleasure. Monica's pulsing cock finally stop shooting it wonderful
jets of thick, rich cum and her hands relaxed. "That was wonderful
darling"; Monica whispered. "Now lick me clean, lick up every last
drop of cum, oh that right, god that feels so nice, lick my cock till
it's nice and clean. That's a good bitch, that's my wonderful slut. "
Then her cock was clean and Monica pulled me up to her and took me in
her arms, my lips gently pressed to hers, her tongue cleaning my lips
and face of her seed. Then, laying on my mothers huge bed, dressed in
my mothers sexy, tight corset, her spiked heels on my feet, Mom's
silky sheer hose on my legs, I fell asleep in my lovers arms.

"Wake up sleepy head unless you want to explain to Monica what your
doing in your Mother's clothes." My Monica was gone, in her place Mark
stood, smiling at me. My embarrassment faded in the rush to get the
house and my self back to the way it had been. Once back in my male
self, I found that Mark was friendly to me, but showed no visible
sexual interest in me. I didn't know if I was hurt or relived. Still
by eight both myself and the house were back in shape, the myself end
helped by Mark's makeup wizardry. It was almost nine when Mark walked
over to the door and handed me a card with his home phone number on
it. "Richard if you want to play again, call me. If you don't, well I
understand. I just want you to know that I loved everything we did
yesterday and I hope you'll call. If I'm not home leave a message,
Just say 'This is Rikki and I want you to do a make over' and I'll
know that you want continue with what we started. Bye, just for now I
hope. Handing me a package wrapped in tape he turned and went out the
door. Then he was gone.

About half an hour later I first heard Monica's Porsche and then the
sound of the key in lock. Plopping down on the bed, I grabbed a book
and tried to act startled as Monica knocked and then entered my
bedroom. "Well Richard, the house look fine, I think that your getting
mature enough for your Mother not to worry about you being alone. I'll
make sure to tell her. She should be back today. Now, I'm beat. Be a
dear and wake me at 3 this afternoon, will you?" "Sure Aunt Monica." I
searched desperately for a sign that she suspected that anything was
wrong. As soon as I heard Monica's bedroom door shut, I started to
drop both Mark's card and package in the trash. I felt slightly used
and certainly didn't think that I'd ever take him up on turning me
into a girl again. But, I finally put his package into the bottom of
my clothes hamper and dropped his card into my junk drawer.

Mom came in that evening and everything fell back more or less into
routine. I stayed out of Mom and Monica's way pretty much. No sense in
exposing myself to too much scrutiny until my body hair grew back. Mom
was pleased with Monica's report on how I'd handled my 24 hours alone
and decided that Richard didn't need to be baby sat any more. Mark's
card was stuck deep in my 'junk drawer' and the entire episode seemed
to fade into a half dream. The tape wrapped package in my hamper
however went from the back of my mind to the front, what was in it?
Maybe I should open it before Mom or Monica found it? What if Mark had
taken pictures of me and they were in there?. Still, for the first
week the package sat untouched.

The only change in the routine of the household during this entire
affair was that Monica rented a small furnished room near the hospital
and announced that she would stay there during her 4 days on and be
home for her 4 days off. The same day this happened I finally gave in
to my curiosity and opened the package. Inside were four cassette
tapes titled 'MAIDEN SONGS' 1 through 4 and a large bottle of pills
and a tube of cream. The pills were labeled 'Muscle Relaxers' and the
cream was labeled 'For Soreness'. That night I put Maiden Songs 1 in
my Walkman and thought that I'd at least check it out. The music was
real laid back, kind of a Kenny G. type thing and so relaxing that I
fell asleep with it playing. The next morning I woke to a pair of dead
batteries in the old Walkman and a backache that wouldn't quit. I
tried two of the pills and within minuets the backache was history.
School wasn't to start for another week and I only have three classes,
all simple minded state requirements so I wasn't worried about study-
ing during Christmas break. That night I found I couldn't sleep, so I
popped the first 'Maiden Song' tape in again and boom, I was out like
a light. As school started again I found that I was taking those
muscle relaxers four times a day and rubbing the cream on my face and
arms morning and night. I found my chest was sore allot and I spent
more and more time fantasizing about the day with Mark, fantasies that
I tried to suppress.

The third weekend after schools restarted and just in time for the MLK
holiday and about a month after Monica had rented the room, Mom called
me into her room. When I entered, Mom was sitting at her vanity doing
her makeup, she was dressed in a pink satin short wrap that showed her
white nyloned leg clear up to her garter top. "Baby"; Mom began; "I
have to go to New York for three days and Monica still has three days
to go till her weekend. While Monica thinks your big enough to stay by
yourself, I'm still worried. But if you say you'll be fine, I'll give
you this chance." Well darling?" As I watched Mom putting her deep red
lipstick on, I answered. "I'll be fine Mom, really, if there an
emergency, I'll call Aunt Monica, honest." Mother put down her lip-
stick and bent over to put on her red patent pumps. As she did so, her
wrap split open to reveal her taunt red garter straps and the tie side
of her matching panties. Unwilling I felt my cock growing hard as she
sat up and put her red enameled earrings on. Looking in the mirror,
not at me, Mom continued; "If your really sure, then I guess that
three days isn't long enough for you to tear the house up too much."
Pausing to pat her face with pressed powder, she added "But no parties
and no more then two people in at a time. Hand me my purse, the red
one on the bed." I reached over and picked it up then took it to her.
As I got close the scent of the perfume made my head spin. "If there
is a real emergency call your sister, she can be here allot quicker
then Monica. Her beeper number is on the Rolodex in my office. Now
dear here is $100.00, that should be enough to keep you in pizza for
three days. Now shoo so I can finish getting dressed. I wandered out
to the living room and turned on the TV. Not twenty minuets Mom walked
in. She was wearing a red wool Channel suit with a white silk shawl
collared blouse, white hose and of course red spiked heel pumps. Over
her shoulder hung a kicky matching red purse and folded over her arm
was a matching red swing coat. In her hand was a pair of red leather
bracelet length gloves. "Well Darling, do I pass inspection?" As I
rolled over and smiled back, the thought 'I'd look better in it'
popped totally unbidden into my mind. "You look great Mom, I got up
and Mom turned her cheek to me; "Kissy dear." I gave her a kiss,
careful not to muss her makeup. She handed a twenty and said "Why
don't you try to catch a movie while I'm gone dear, I'll call you
tonight at 9 P.M. Be good." With that she was gone. I sat on the couch
and tried to watch TV, then when that didn't work went out in the back
yard. I turned the Hot tub on and thought that I'd let it heat up and
take a soak, but visions of my mother kept jumping into my head,
visions of her clothes, her jewelry, her sexy undies, her shoes,
visions of all those things on me. I went back inside and wandered
around, looked at some more TV, got up after about five minuets and
went into my room. Almost with out thinking, Mark's card was in my
hand and I found my self dialing. After Mark's recorder came on I
heard someone say in a sexy woman's voice; "Hi baby, this is Rikki and
I need a make over, I have three days to myself and I can't wait. Bye
Bye." Trying to resist the feelings that overwhelmed me without even
the slightest success, I went into Mom's bath and turned the shower on
and picking up her Nair and her razor proceeded to get rid of the
stubble where my sparse body hair was just beginning to grow back.
Twenty short minuets late found me completely hairless from the neck
down as I toweled dry with one of Mom's huge terry soft pink bath
towels. Next, I found myself at Mom's vanity, my brows tweezed to
pencil thin arches and a pair of Mom's diamond studs in my ears.
Completely on autopilot now slipped into one of my Mom's swimsuits,
one piece, but very sexy. Frowning slightly at my almost flat chest
and the most unladylike bulge in my crotch I smoothed a cucumber mask
over my now hairless face. Five minuets later found me relaxing in the
hot tub, a glass of white wine in my hand. As I slowly sipped the
delightful cold wine, I felt the weeks of tension flow out of me. I'd
made my choice and now felt far more like Rikki then Richard. I
wondered what Mark had planned for me this time.

  Part 3

I relaxed in the warm, bubbling water, loving (for a reason totally
beyond me) the feel of the cucumber mask as it dried on my now almost
hairless face. As I reached for my wine glass on the edge of tub, I
caught sight of my hand and fingers. God how bunt and ugly my hands
looked without the inch long acrylic fashion nails. I felt myself
begin to grow erect under Mom's one piece thong suit and let my free
hand slip beneath the hot caressing waters. Freeing my now-hard boy
thing, I began to slow stroke and caress myself to an erection. No
more hard quick strokes for this girl, not any more. No, soft, teasing
touch, gentle pressure, and of course stopping to pay attention to my
thighs, all slick, wet, and hairless, my wonderfully sensitive nipples
(how could I have missed those marvelous, exciting sources of plea-
sure) and just let my freshly shaved legs rub each other. I brought my
self to the brink, the let my self relax, each approach to relief more
demanding, more exquisite then the last. A sip of wine and letting
myself explore my body, touching and stroking, then a return to my
masturbatory heaven. So lost was I in my auto-erotic loving that the
sound of the high heels on the deck behind me caused my heart to go
from pleasant excitement to a trip hammer trying to break out of my
chest. I knocked my glass into the tub in my haste to turn and terri-
fied that it was Mom or worse Monica looked up into the face of a
beautiful stranger. The woman smiling down at me was perhaps 25 and
had the most beautiful blue eyes I'd ever seen, her gorgeous mane of
dark blond hair was a shining bouncing cascade that flowed to just
past mid-shoulder. Her perfect body was dressed to show off a to-die-
for figure. She was perfect in skin tight winter white leggings under
a marvelously soft matching hip length cowl neck sweater that hugged
her in all the 'just right' places. Her leggings disappeared into low
heeled, well about two inches really, lace up, ankle high, white
leather granny styled boot. Peeking over the cowl neck of her sweater
was a quarter sized heart shaped gold pendent outlined in sparkling
emeralds. The pendent hung from a delicate gold chain and matched
exactly the earrings that glittered at her ears. Her makeup was all
frosted pinks, wet and sexy on her lips and matte and pretty on her
eyes and cheeks. "Her eyes held a mischievous glint that combined
amusement and maybe just a bit of lust. My mouth tried to work, to say
something, make some type of explanation, but nothing would come out.
Needless less to say, my boy-thing was trying to retreat inside
somewhere near my stomach. Then a soft and gentle laugh, like the
tinkling of bell. " Darling, I'm so sorry that I startled you." Her
voice was a wonderful soft alto. "But I was afraid that you would
finish with out me. Crouching gracefully, she extended her perfectly
manicured right hand, her inch long pink nails sexy and ever so
female. "I'm Marisa, Mark's better half, his much better half I
think." Drying my hand quickly, I tried to return her dazzling smile.
As I grasped her (I simply couldn't think of this vision as male in
any way, shape or form) hand, her left hand (graced I could see with a
breathtaking wedding set) gently slapped my hand. "Gently dear, like a
lady, not like some macho jerkoff, if you'll forgive my pun." With a
will of it's own, my boy-thing made a reappearance and my voice joined
it. "Marisa?! Oh darling, you're beautiful! You look like..." "Kathy
Ireland, yes dear I know. It's taken lot's of work, but she is my
ideal and there certainly worse girls I could resemble. Now baby,
don't move!" With out another word she began to undress, no not just
undress, a slow sensual strip show for her audience of one. How she
got the boots unlaced and off was magical, a white pair of silky
panties and her white push up bra were the last to go, well almost the
last. Marisa stood there in her flesh cover gaff (where ever had I
picked up that word?). Slowly she freed herself from the restraining
elastic and rubber. Slowly, sensually she lowered herself into the
steamy water and directly into my arms. The first second of the
eternal kiss we shared dispelled any doubt that this breathtaking
woman in my arms was my darling lover. I could feel her sweet secret,
her clitty-cock grow hard as our tongues explored each others warm,
wanting mouths. Then, again as if by magic, Marisa's hand guided mine
to her waiting excitement. The feel of her girl-meat in my hand
brought me to full excitement as I felt her nail gently trace the
length of my penis from my hairless ball all the way to the silky
head. This touch almost cause me to cum right then, but, sensing my
excitement, Marisa shifted her head to the base of my straining
clitty-cock and clamping down with gentle strength stopped the flood
of boy juice that was trying so hard to escape me. Breaking from our
forever kiss, she laughed; "Darling Rikki, I'm glad that you seem
eager to see me, but we have three whole days and I don't want you all
tired out before we even start.' The second that the moment of my
almost orgasm passed, she began to softly squeeze my now rock hard
balls. The sensation was a blissful mix of pleasure with exactly the
right amount of pain. A soft moan escaped my lips as with a will of
it's own, free hand gently snuck up to caress a perfect breast. They
were real! Her beautiful mounds of tad flesh were perfect and real.
'That right Rikki'; my shemale lover moaned, "play with my titties, I
love that. Do you like my titties Rikki? Would you like to have
titties sweetheart. Tell me darling, what kind of titties, real
titties, would my pretty Rikki like to have." Exploding from deep
within my subconscious came my answer, one that surprised me both in
content and feeling. "Want big titties, huge sexy mounds of wonderful
girl flesh. I want to look like one of the bimbo's in "Sex to Sixty".
Can you do this for me darling." I moaned helpless in the vision in my
mind, a wasp waist, full woman's hips, and huge, impossibly firm tits.
The kind that would transform me from a nothing male into a male wet
dream. As this vision overtook me totally, Marisa skillfully brought
me to a shuddering orgasm. In that second, unknown to me, as my cock
shot it's milky load into the swirling waters, bimbohood and sex were
forever joined. Still milking my passion from my endless jetting boy-
meat, Marisa's free hand somehow found the wine glass in the water.
Once my passion was spent, she slipped up onto the edge of the tub,
her straining meat proudly erect between her perfect female thighs.
Holding the glass in front of the engorged head she commanded; 'Jerk
me off Baby, milk my shaft, get my milk Rikki." I redoubled my ef-
forts, my right hand stoking her ivory velvet shaft, my left cupping
and squeezing her heavy cum filled balls. "Please Marisa let me suck,
let me kiss it." A whiny, pleading crept into my voice. I was unable
to tear my eyes from the beautiful shaft of my lovers penis just
inches from my trembling lips. "Darling, just do as your told and I
assure you that I'm going to make this weekend one that you'll look
back on and cum just at the thought of. OH yes baby, we are going to
expand your horizons to whole new worlds. Now hurry up darling, oh
yes, that right baby, stoke my cock for me, Make Marisa feel real
good, stroke my meat, make me cum, that's right, squeeze my balls,
that right, yes, oh fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck yes baby, fuck yes pretty
bitch, YES!" Her body gave a start and she thrust her hips forward,
almost hitting the end of her cumming cock on the end of the wine
glass. My efforts with my lovers penis were rewarded by an explosion
of cum that shot with unbelievable force into the wine glass. It
seemed as if she would never stop, and with a never ending series of
pulsing jets the level of cum-milk in the glass rose, one-eighth, one-
quarter, then a half full. Once she had emptied herself of boy-cum, my
love reached down and with her left hand tilted my chin up so I looked
into her sparking blue eyes and smiling she slowly poured the cum over
my waiting face. My hands shot to my face, trying to guide the thick,
rich boy milk to my hungry, wanting mouth. The feeling of needing to
drink the thick boy juices my lover was slowly pouring on my waiting
face overwhelming. I lapped at it like a dog, a bitch in heat. I felt
my hands smearing Marisa's love over my face, and knew exactly what I
must look like, a mindless, cum hungry slut. But I simply didn't care.
Or to be more exact, I was getting exactly what I wanted, my lovers
hot, salty cum, and that was what mattered.

Then my cum hunger was sated for the moment, well not really, but the
glass was empty and I didn't want to seem greedy. and once again
Marisa slipped her perfect body into the water and my cum covered lips
meet with her hungry tongue. She liked me clean as a mother cat would
clean her kitten. The cleaning was interspersed with hard, long kisses
that made my boy-balls ache with wanting that they couldn't fulfill,
for now.

A quick dunk and we both were free, more or less of or passions' wet,
sticky seed and Marisa helped me, week kneed from the hot tub. Leaving
her clothes in an hung over the back of the deck chair, we went in the
house, laughing and giggling, like teenagers. Taking me by the hand
Marisa lead me to Mother huge shower and pulling me inside turned the
water onto a warm spray and pealing my (well I thought of it as mine)
suit off soaped me and washed my now shoulder length hair (I just
couldn't seem to make my self go to the barber). I loved the atten-
tion, her soft hand on my soapy body and having my hair washed was
sexy beyond belief. Then pressing the soap into my hand she reached up
and began to remove the green cucumber facial mask! I'd forgotten it
totally. Unable not to, I asked; "Marisa darling, how do I look with a
green face?" Turning me to face her, her slick, soapy groin up against
my as she slowly stripped the facial off, she whispered in a throaty
voice with real passion; "Darling, I'd love you regardless of what you
have on your face. This glop just makes you seem a little more female,
more like a pretty girl trying to stay that way. After all, it's
something that we girls have to do to stay pretty. And I know how much
you want to be pretty and admired. Isn't that what you want?" Her
question seemed to trigger a response from deep inside me. "More then
anything. Rinsing us both off, Marisa turned the water off and reach
of the huge bath towel hanging from the rack, wrapped it around the
two of us, pressing our wet, slick bodies tightly together, her soft
full breast pressing into my slightly swollen, slightly sore chest.
The kiss this time did last forever and in that timeless place I felt
her nipples grow hard as I melted into her supple and strong embrace.

But even forever ends. As we slowly and reluctantly broke apart
slightly, Marisa, her face lit up with and angelic smile whispered in
my ear as she dried me off; "We can't spend the whole day like this, I
still want to get you dressed up. Now, I want you to be Jessica for me
darling." I looked into Marisa's eyes; "But Marisa, I don't want to be
Jessica, I want to be Rikki." I whined. "Now darling, you said that
you wanted to be my bimbo, didn't you?" "Well yes, I do, but why do I
have to pretend to be some one else?" I asked. Marisa let a little
steel creep into her voice; "A bimbo darling, is who ever her lover
wants her to be. In fact, for the rest of this weekend I want you to
act like Jessica, talk like Jessica and dress like Jessica. I want you
to answer to her name. I want you to be Jessica. As to why, because
you want to please me. Now come on in the bed room, so I can start
your transformation." Quietly I followed, my mind in a turmoil. Why
this thing about pretending to be my sister, because when she worked
her transformation magic on me I could look so much like her. But when
would she transform me to my ideal. Would she ever, I wondered. When?
But she was right about one thing, being a bimbo meant being a sexual
plaything and that's what I wanted. Unbidden a thought came into my
mind that made me smile; 'I want to be a blonde joke." I don't know
why but the idea was wonderful. Relaxed I followed Marisa into my
mothers bedroom.

The laptop computer was already set up and the blank head sat on the
pillow. Without even the slightest of protest, I let Marisa give me
the sleepy time shot. As I felt the drug wash over me felt the cold
metal of the head close over my waiting face.

Like Sleeping Beauty, I woke to a kiss. Except in my case it was from
my Princess Charming. And as I woke to this vision, I realized that
she was a Princess, my Princess, my wonderful, beautiful Princess
Marisa. I wanted to please her, have her be proud of me, want me. It
was by being pretty, desirable and malleable that I would please her
and make her want me, then she would be proud of me. Marisa had
dressed, out of the open suitcase on the end of the bed and I was in
love. Kathy Ireland dressed in Barbie's clothes. Oh yes, I had an
entire collection of Barbie hidden away, some of which I guess is
worth something. No one knows about it (or so I thought) and Barbie
had provided me with many happy hours, even more so once I had discov-
ered masturbation. Now in front of me was one of my very favorites
fantasies come to stunning life. While I'd slept, Marisa had fixed her
hair in a ass length pony tail and redone her makeup to an exact
duplicate of a 1959 Barbie. She was dressed in a emerald green satin
evening suit with a white satin camisole. The jacket was bolero
styled, the skirt tapered with a hip length peplem. Marisa still wore
her earrings and pendent that she'd arrived with but added a matching
tennis bracelet. Her nails were a perfect pale pink and a green satin
pillbox style was pinned perfectly in place. She looked as if she has
stepped right off the page of one of my Barbie catalogs. Just looking
at her caused my boy-thing to remind me that I'd had enough rest for
it to appreciate what I saw. "Well darling, I'm glad that you fancy
all the work I went to. " As she spoke Marisa did a slow modeling
turn, the satin of her outfit whispering seduction. Smiling and
pivoting gracefully on the super slim spiked heels of her emerald
green satin pumps, Marisa let me have a long look at her tight sexy
ensemble. Moving back over to the bed, Marisa let an outrageously
exaggerated look of shock come over her lovely face as she pulled back
Mother's satin sheet. "Why Jessica you have a cock! And it's hard!" As
I reached down to touch my engorged clitty-cock I caught sight of my
bright, wet, cherry red inch and half long sculpted nails. I became
aware of the weight on my chest and realized that Marisa had already
worked her transformation magic, well at least some of it. I let my
eyes travel to the angled mirror on the far wall that reflected the
length of the pink satin canopy bed (nothing as slutty as a mirrored
ceiling for Mommy dearest) and my breath stopped. My sister Jessica
lay on the bed, her mane of light auburn hair spread over the pink
satin of the huge, soft pillow. My face was a picture perfect fantasy,
cherry red lips, eyes made up with just the right amount of hot pink
shadow, blended to the palest of pastel pink at my high arching brows.
My sparkling green eyes looked out from under long, lush lashes rich
mascara. My beautiful, sexy sister Jessica regarded herself with a
pouting smile as she gently fondled her 38DD breasts with one hand and
her stiff cock with the other. The slowly, lovingly, the Barbie Doll
came close and gently moved my hand away from my rock hard shemale
meat. Then slowly her head moved toward my straining hard-on. With out
a word this vision of perfection gently kissed the head of my penis.
The sight in the mirror was all my secret dreams come to life as
Barbie/Kathy/Marisa's soft, silky, pink lips enveloped my penis in a
slow, wonderful downward motion. I could feel my lovers tongue dance
over first the head then the shaft of my erection as, ever so slowly,
she took me completely into her wanting mouth. A moan from the depths
of my soul escaped as pleasure overwhelmed me. Her lips were now
pressed up against the base of my hard-on, I could feel her breath on
my meat the was buried deep in her throat. Believing that no feeling
could be as wonderful as what I had felt, she began ever so slowly to
raise her head. "Oh darling, yes"; I half moaned, half screamed. I
felt as if my clitty-cock would explode from the pleasure that my
darling was giving me, but again Marisa's strong, sure fingers
squeezed the base of my shaft to deny me the immediate release I
sought. I watched in the mirror as the beautiful woman in the shiny
green satin pink lips slowly slid up the now lipstick smeared shaft of
the big-titted, red-haired shemale who lay naked on the gleaming pink
satin sheet. Over and over the stunning, living Barbie Doll's insatia-
ble mouth slid down my hard-on and over and over brought me to the
edge of bliss. Each time I was denied the release that I was now
begging for, pleading for. I was moaning and withering as the tides of
need demanded and were withheld. The stunning redhead in the mirror
was reduced to a mindless slut whose need overwhelmed everything else.
My universe narrowed to my lovers lips and mouth and my cock, nothing
else mattered. I could hear Jessica as she begged her Barbie for the
release she now wanted, needed. "God, please let me cum"; I pleaded.
"Please, darling, oh please. Your my goddess, my darling, Please make
Jessica cum, make Jessica's cock cum, Oh fucking jesus darling, let me
cum." The I found my self panting, just making little animal noises as
I tried to buck, to force myself into her mouth, desperate to obtain
the relief that lover so skillfully denied me. My balls ached with
need, my cherry red nails clawed at the pink satin sheets and my body
arched with wanting. Suddenly, her mouth was all over my cock, all at
once, her tongue darting, her lips sucking, her hand kneading my
painfully full testicles. My orgasm swept over me like a tidal wave,
my cock emptying it's load deep in my lovers waiting mouth. The room
first swam, then darkened. My reality became the endless waves of
ecstasy the engulfed me. As I passed out all I could see was the
beautiful redhead in the mirror. Her lovely face was a animal mask of
pleasure, her voice screaming "Fuck me darling"; over and over.

As I slowly came back to reality, Instead of the empty ache of my
spent need what I felt was a warm glow that spread through my entire
body. Marisa stood smiling as she reapplied her lipstick. "Well
Darling, back with us?" Then she reach out and ever so gently stoked
my arm. "Nothing make a woman more beautiful then that well fucked
glow." I let my eyes go back to the mirror and found that, again,
Marisa was right. I fairly glowed, my smile one of pure contentment.
"Now Darling, I want you to get that sweet ass of yours out of bed and
get dressed, we have dinner reservations for eight and our dates will
be here at seven. It's five thirty now, so you really don't have lots
of time."

My glow evaporated in a flash of pure panic. "What in god's name are
you talking about, date's? Jesus Marisa, are you out of you mind!"
"Calm down Darling, listen to your self. Even as upset as you seem,
your voice is still perfect. Now, listen to me. We're going out
together, with our dates and were going to have a lovely time. First
dinner, then maybe a club. Your going to be beautiful and admired.
Your date is going to love what he see's and I'm sure that he'll
remain a gentleman. I have an outfit all picked out for you, Your
sister bought it at I. Magnum and your Mother picked it up. You know
your sister, when she buys an outfit, she does it from the skin out."
Pointing to a pile of boxes and a two hanging garment bags, Marisa
continued; "Sweetheart, you know that you want to do this and your
going to have the time of your life tonight, cocktails, dinner,
drinks, dancing. Now lover, get dressed, I'm starting to feel over-
dressed and out of place."

I slid off the satin sheets and made a quick visit to the ladies room
to clean up my boy thing and then back to the bedroom. The top box was
toped with a pink bow and a card. I unfolded it and read "To my
darling, our secrets are so wonderful." I opened the box and found a
gaff exactly like the one Marisa wore under her leggings. I needed
help getting it on for the first time, but after some fumbling and
giggling, my wonderful boy-thing was safely tucked away and out of
sight if not out of mind. The second box, as were the rest, were from
I. Magnum. My worry about not only going out in public for the first
time, but going out with a date, a man, faded in the christmas like
feeling of opening my sister's presents (no matter how unintended) to
her new alter ego. I spilled the first box on the bed. A black satin
Victorian waist cinch, matching panties and a pair of silky sheer
black, back seamed, thigh high hose. As I struggled into the breath-
taking (both because it was so tight and because it was so beautiful)
heavily boned waist cinch I turned to admired the new me the waist
cinch created. My waist shrank from 28 to 22 inches and without even
wondering why, I knew that my measurements were now 40-22-37. My date
would have to love a girl with a figure like that, wouldn't he? As
Marisa pulled the last little bit needed to close the back of the
waist cinch I giggled at the thought of how my date would react when
he felt the heavy satin waist cinch as he held me close as we danced.
I smoothed the dusky seamed hose on, making a Mrs. Robinson show out
of it which Marisa seemed to like, calling me 'a tease"; and adding;
'you know that we don't have time for each other right now baby.' As
soon as I had the garters fastened and pulled the straps taunt on my
sexy hose, I slipped my brief red satin panties on, pulling them up
and over first my hose, then my garter straps. I pulled the panties up
tight and my gaff disappeared. Now my secret really was, unless my
date got in my panties, that is. Putting on the wonderful and sexy
lingerie made me feel so completely female that my fear of the upcom-
ing date took a back seat to my joy in dressing from the skin out as a
exquisite and alluring woman. I was so lost in my pleasure at how I
looked that I hadn't notice that Marisa had produced a video recorder
and was taping my impromptu modeling session. I started to object
(what if Mom saw the tape), but her obvious pleasure and her coaching
on just how to show off to the camera so had me prancing around like a
Christie Brinkley wanna-be.

While Marisa continued her taping, I resumed dressing up. The next box
yielded up and unexpected treasure, a black longline bra with a really
low back, the cups were underwired, low cut and gently cradled and
pushed my already impressive breasts up and up giving me breathtaking
cleavage. Showing myself off to the video camera, I found the thought
of being filmed more and more exciting. Twirling in front of the
mirror to make sure that my seams were straight, I tried to give the
camera a show that should have melted the shutter, well I hope that at
the least that I raised Marisa's body heat a few degree's. The next
box was a shoe box and I was dying to open it. A gorgeous pair of
black patent pumps trimmed with beautiful ruby red rhinestone beads
and what had to be at least a five inch high, super slim golden,
spiked heels. My hands were actually trembling as I pulled them from
the box and slid them on my feet. The fit was perfect. There were
three more boxes on the bed, but a word from Marisa sent me dancing
over to the first garment bag. The dress was everything I hope it
would be, a jet black silk slipdress embellished by a fiery fusion of
black, ruby red, gold and silver sequins and beads in a bold low cut
molded bodice. The shoulder straps were thin gold glitter beads that
set of my creamy skin perfectly. Marisa took a break from filming to
help me with the back zip, cut just low enough to be sexy but not
slutty. The jet black silk tightly tapered skirt of this dream dress
was about three inches above my knee and as Marisa resumed filming me
I couldn't stop showing off in front of the mirror. I was in love with
the reflection of beautiful woman in the dramatic black silk and
shinning beaded creation. The sound of the taffeta lining of the dress
against the silk of my hose, the feeling of the dress as it hugged my
provocative, wonderful curves, the sight of my cleavage, all of it
combined to make me want to look like this, dress like this, feel like
this forever.

"Would you like to sing 'I feel pretty' darling, and you are pretty
lover. That dress fits like a dream and I love seeing you in it. But
darling, time presses and there are still a few boxes." Marisa's voice
brought me back to semi-reality. "I'm sorry my lady"; I laughed as I
turn and curtsied to my still taping Princess, my lady love. "But this
is even better the first time, I feel like these are really my things
and I love them." Back to the bed and the first and smallest of the
three boxes contained a pair of beautiful gold and diamond earrings.
The dangling, flashing earring hung three inches from the half carat
diamond set in a diamond shaped setting and the cascade mirrored the
pattern of shinning sequins and beads in the bodice of my (and yes,
from now on I decided, this was MY dress.) wonderfully tight, body
hugging dress. The erotic weight of these bewitching, fiery earrings
just reinforced my feeling of total femininity. The second box yielded
up a pair of black shiny nylon jersey, over the elbow length gloves.
As I slowly pulled the silky gloves up over my arms I could see the
clinging material molded itself to my hands like a second silky,
shining black skin. I turned to face myself in the mirror.

Sophisticated, dramatic, unforgettable. A gorgeous woman smiled back
at me with red pouting lips, devastatingly feminine. I heard the video
camera click off and then a equally stunning vision was at my side a
green satin clutch and a pair of white satin shorty gloves in one
hand, a black beaded clutch held out for me in the other. As I turned
to face her, I felt the sweep of my silky auburn hair across my
shoulders and felt the glow that beautiful woman gets from wearing
beautiful things spread through me. Marisa's voice was soft and
tender; "Your stunning Jessica." The chiming of the door bell cut her
off, our dates were here!
  Part 4

My heart was pounding like a bad set of speakers with the base turned
way up. In the back of my mind, I'd hoped that Marisa had ben kidding
when she'd said that she set up an evening out for us. But not just
the two of us, she not only expected me to go out for the first time
dressed as my sister, but to go out on a date. While Marisa and I had
made love with each other, I never ever thought of her as a man, she
was simply a beautiful woman with a wonderful secret in her panties.
However, I wasn't given much of a chance to object and I found myself
arm and arm with Marisa, prancing down the hall in our slim spiked
heels to answer the front door.

Just a few feet from the front door panic finally set in. I stopped
and grabbed desperately at Marisa's arm. "Marisa, I can't, he'll know!
I'll never pass for Jessica, everyone who see's me will know." I
whispered, feeling sick to my stomach, I continued; "I'm not like you,
your so beautiful and so confident. No one would your not what you
seem." The bell chimed again. Marisa stopped and turned to face me.
Instead of the sharp rebuke I expected, her voice was soft, gentle and
filled with love. "Darling, of course you can pass for Jessica,
granted that your Mother might, and I mean just might, be to tell you
apart. I would never set you up to be hurt. I did this for three
reasons. One, I know that you can pass and your simply to pretty to
say home like some old maid. Second, I want you to become so sure of
yourself that you don't feel insecure about any female role you want
to try. The third reason is that were lovers now, lesbians if you
like, and I want you to try the Bi world. Just remember darling, your
Jessica, your wearing all of Jessica's beautiful things and no one
will ever guess that your not exactly what you seem." As she spoke, I
felt my fears evaporate (well some of them) and more importantly, I
didn't want Marisa to be disappointed in me. I put on my most dazzling
smile and looking deep in my darling's sparkling eyes. "I sorry
Marisa, I guess that everything has just happened so fast." Marisa
gave me a loving squeeze and we went to the door. Marisa opened the
door and I caught my first sight of the first man to see me in my
transformed state. What hunks, the first was in his mid fifties, tall,
graying and very distinguished looking with a short, perfectly trimmed
salt and pepper beard. The second gentleman standing next to him was a
little shorter and much younger, perhaps only 30 and very rugged and
handsome, the collage quarterback type, but with the look of someone
who had taken his football accomplishments, put them behind him and
built on it. The older (and I thought cuter) gentleman spoke first (I
knew he would); "Ms. St. Johns and Ms. DeChomboard? I'm Eric McMasters
and this is my friend Jason Camp." An slight english accent, he was
just to perfect! I opened the door wide and held my hand out, just
like I'd seen Jessica do a hundred time. It took all my courage to let
him take my hand and doing my best to keep my voice soft, breathy and
a carefully controlled alto welcomed them. (After all this was my
house, sort of.) "Call me Jessica please, DeChombonard is such a mouth
full. As he entered he took my hand and gracefully executed a perfect
bow and kissed my gloved hand. I felt an electric shock pass through
me. No one in my life had ever show this kind of attention to me, I'd
never felt so 'center stage'. I loved it. Marisa was right, being a
beautiful woman sure beat being a nothing boy. Marisa paired off with
Jason right from the start. The next words that came out of my mouth
surprised even me "I hope that we have time for a drink before we
leave." Smiling, I lead everyone through the living room and into the
family room. Jason moved behind the bar and made an appreciative
whistle; "Now this is what I call a bar, you have wonderful taste
Jessica." I blushed slightly; "Why thank you kind sir, but in this
case I'm afraid that I can't take any of the credit. This is my
mothers house, I live in the hills above Malibu. Marisa and I just
this would be so much more convenient for everyone." Jason smiled,
"Well then my complements to your Mother for everything, Eric, your
usual? And ladies?" Oh god, what does Jessica drink, lets see, we went
to dinner and she ordered a..." Marisa jumped in, thank god. "I'd love
a glass of white wine and Jessica, your usual Gin and Tonic? I don't
see how you drink those things darling." That's it gin and tonic, I
have got to calm down. Everything is going well and Marisa has been
right about everything else. I smiled at Jason, "I don't know why I
like them, I guess that I just have a warm spot in my heart for things
English." As I spoke, I let my eyes leave Jason and locked directly
onto Eric. His smile back was warm and left no doubt that he found me
attractive.

Suddenly the thought that a man might find me attractive left me
confused and shaken, but on the other hand the success of my flirting
remark about 'things english' filled me with a sense of both pride and
power. I could make someone want me and I could say no, if I wanted.
My feeling of wanting to be desired and wanted won over my fear of
being a sissy-boy, a queer.

Then Jason was handing me a gin and tonic and Marisa was skillfully
guiding the conversation to where I couldn't help but join in. Sudden-
ly I found myself truly enjoying myself, the feel of my dress, the
weight of my breasts, the silky brush of my hair and most of all the
side glances both Eric and Jason threw my way. A second drink and then
we were on our way to dinner. Just before we left, Marisa and I
returned to bedroom for our wraps and purses. It was then that found
just how well Marisa was prepared. In my purse were a drivers license
and credit cards, all made out to Jessica M. DeChombonard. In fact
they were Jessica's. I looked at Marisa and gasped "How did you get
these?" Marisa smiled and softly answered; "About six months ago, your
sister lost her purse, well she didn't really. She left it in your
Mothers's car and well I just appropriated it. I wouldn't use the
credit cards, I'm sure that she has reported them lost or stolen, but
it will do for answering any casual question, like are you 21. She
casually dropped my lipstick and spritzed just a hint of Channel
behind my ears and picking up her green satin wrap, looked pointedly
at the remaining garment bag. I went over to it and a post-it-note
stuck to the outside said 'Fuck the Whales'. In the garment bag was a
sable coat, calf length with a plush, full shawl collar. I loved the
feel of slipping into the heavy fur, the silky touch of the jet black
fur. Something that a beautiful woman wears. Rich, expensive, sexy.

The evening passed in a pleasant haze, dinner on the strip, the off
for more drinks and dancing. When Eric had first asked me to dance, my
heart had began to pound, I'd never danced with a man and was afraid
that something would give away to Eric the fact that I wasn't exactly
what I seemed. Even more, I was afraid that if I danced with Eric, let
him take me in his powerful arms and hold me close to his strong
mature body, that I would like it, like it the way a woman does, like
it and want him. I was terrified that I would want him to love me like
a woman. Eric was a perfect gentleman, close, but not too close, tight
but not too tight. I loved dancing with him and as the night wore on I
found myself moving closer to him, not pulled to him by his strength,
but attracted to him by his charm.

Then it was 3 A.M. and I was walking back to Eric's car, alone with
Eric. Marisa had taken Jason off with her for breakfast at the beach
and I was alone with Eric. The night was cold (well for L.A. it was)
and I had my fur (yes, I now thought of that fabulous coat as mine,
Marisa was right again, fuck the whales, or to be more exact, fuck the
minks, sables or whatever) pulled tight around me. My gloved arm was
held gently by Eric and the sound of my high heels was so sexy that it
was making my gaff some what uncomfortable. We arrived at the car (a
Jaguar, Eric felt a duty to buy British and simply couldn't understand
Americans buying Japanese when there was a choice) and as he turned to
help me in, I turned to him instead of the car. Suddenly I was in his
arms, my lips hungary for his, my body molded to his. As he wrapped
his strong arms around me and crushed me to him, I found the idea of
his making love to me irresistible and delightful. As we kissed, I let
my right hand gently stroke the now prominent bulge in Eric's perfect-
ly tailored suit pants. The soft stoke of my black gloved fingers
brought a soft moan from Eric. Slowly and gently he forced me back
against the hood of the Jag. I sat down and with a mounting need that
surprised me with it's force, was pulling my fur open with my right
hand and pushing the tight silk skirt of dress up with my other hand.
I watch with hungry fascination as Eric quickly unbuttoned his fly and
released his wonderful, massive, fully erect cock from this white
cotton boxer shorts. As I pulled my panties to the side and down. Eric
through some fantastic act of legerdemain produced a condom and pulled
the thin rubber over the angry head of the cock that I had to have in
me. "I want you in my bottom darling; I breathed, my need now a
physical, demanding thing; "Do you want my cherry there, please say
yes." Eric simply kissed me quite and then as our lips meet, I felt
the pressure of his tool at the gate of my virgin ass. The condom was
lubricated and I arched my back and brought my nylon clad legs up and
wrapped them around Eric, he place his strong, capable arms around my
corseted waist, his large, powerful, gentle, hands in the small back.
It hurt as he took me, but it was a wonderful pain, a pain that
excited me further. Suddenly I realized that I wanted it to hurt, that
I wanted Eric's cock to make me know that I was being fucked, just
like a pretty girl know when her lover take her pussy's cherry. I
moved my legs up and over Eric's broad shoulders and felt more and
more of his huge manhood slid ever deeper into my tight, hurting,
wanting ass. I could her my sisters voice begging Eric to fuck her, to
fill her ass with his cock, to use her just like the slut she was.
More and more cock filled me, my sphincter clamping tight around the
anal intruder that was filling my bowels with wonderful man meat. I
began to work my ass muscles, squeezing then relaxing and was rewarded
with a groan of pleasure from Eric. Ever so slowly Eric forced his 10
inch tool into me. My ass felt as if it was on fire, the pain and the
pleasure merging into a glorious golden haze of needing and wanted to
be used. Once his cock was fully in me, I heard Jessica begging;
"Please fuck me, please, I need to be fucked darling, I want your
cock, Oh yes darling, oh Eric, your so hard, so big, and my ass is so
full, your hurting me so good, Yes." Jessica's voice continued as,
slowly at first, then with mounting speed and force, Eric began to use
my ass as a woman's cunt, as I wanted it used. I could feel his
wonderful rock hard tool sliding out, my sphincter clamping hard,
trying to keep him in me, then reversing and plunging deep into my
yielding ass. I could feel the cold night air blowing up my dress,
could see my panties draped around my left ankle, felt the motion of
the car as it rocked in time to Eric's pounding thrusts as his cock
had my ass's cherry. The pressure on my prostrate made me so hot, yet
the gaffe conspired to keep me from an erection, my testicles forced
back inside my body cavity ached with the cum that I needed to spend.
I wanted and needed relief, my body wanting, the gaffe denying. But
more then anything, I loved feeling Eric's cock in me, filling me the
way a slut like me should be filled. I thought how wonderful it would
be to be sucking Marisa's she-male meat while Eric's huge man-cock
fucked my ass so very full, filled me, used me. The thought of
Marisa's soft, sexy woman's body and wonderful boy-cock coupled with
the pleasure of Eric's mature, but rock solid body and his huge,
demanding penis brought me to a new level of need. From outside of
myself I knew that I was now moaning and whimpering my need as Eric's
pounding shaft drilled in and out of my now slick, wet ass. Then as
his meat filled me deeper then ever and he moaned "Oh Jessica" and his
lips fell to me in a brutal kiss. I felt his balls jump against my
creamy ass cheeks as, within my gaffe, I felt myself come. Eric
collapsed against me, my black nyloned legs still wrapped around and
over his strong shoulders, his spending cock buried to it's full depth
between my soft ass cheeks. I felt his strong body quiver with it
pleasure, pleasure I was providing, as I felt his body quake with the
force of his orgasm. As we came. I sucked his tongue into my mouth and
treating just like it was Marisa's clitty-cock began to suck it. I
kept sucking his tongue as I felt his body quake over and over with
the force of his pleasure, felt his meat spasm as my ass held him deep
inside of me, just like the she-bitch that I'd somehow became.

Finally, he was done and I was sated. I could feel the squeezy mess
inside my gaffe. With horror realized that in my heat for Eric, my
passion had far overcame my common sense. Like a red flag draws a
bull, my red panties drew my eyes as that flapped gently in the breeze
from my ankle. My gaffe was fully exposed to even the most casual of
Eric's glance, and Eric's gaze was anything but casual. Eric slowly
withdrew his enormous cock from my behind, careful to keep the condom
on as his tool pulled free with a slight plop and my sphincter tried
to hold him in. I looked at him with a mix of love (well lust) and
fear. Suddenly I was very aware of his powerful body and his masculine
strength. He had to know that I was a sissy-boy, a pretty she-male all
dressed up as a seductive woman. Suddenly the hood to the car felt
hard and unyielding and the deserted, darkened parking lot, ominous
and foreboding. I dropped my legs off of Eric's broad shoulders as he
produced a handkerchief, to clean himself with I assumed. Instead he,
gently pulled my gaffe aside and began to clean my clitty cock up. I
looked up at him and was rewarded with a gentle smile. Only when,
between kisses, my boy thing was cleaned up as good as was possible
and my gaffe gently replaced did he clean himself. As he rezipped his
pants I slid off the hood of his Jag and pulled my panties up. I
shivered slightly as he turned to me. "You were wonderful Jessica, I'd
forgotten how exciting sex can be on the spur of the moment, especial-
ly with a beautiful woman." I pulled my fur around me as I whispered
"But Eric, I'm not a..." His kiss stilled my confession, "I know
Jessica, and I don't care. Your very beautiful and a truly erotic
creature. That's a rare and marvelous combination. My only question is
how far you want to take your sexual frontiers and will I be lucky
enough to share them?" I melted into his arms and my lips searched for
his. His were ever so gentle in reply.

After a wonderful breakfast, we drove back to the house, as I disarmed
the alarm, I felt Eric's breath on the back of my neck, followed by a
soft kiss on the nape of my neck. The electricity was still there.
"Darling"; he whispered; "I have to go, but I think that you want to
see me again, and I know that I want to see you. You live here, don't
you." I turned to face him and admitted that "Yes Eric, I do." "And
Jessica is your older sister?" I was shaken at his insight. "Yes, I'm
Rikki." "Well Rikki, I think that a beautiful name. But no more
stories, how old are you?" "17 almost eighteen, that's not to young,
please tell me you don't mind." "No Rikki, I'm 55, that's no to old.
Does you parents know?" "No" I admitted "Mothers divorced and she
works as a costume designer. She lives here with a girlfriend, Moni-
ca's a nurse and neither one is home much." Eric considered a moment
before he replied "Well I'll just have to see what we can do. I have
to go back to England on business for a few week so I have some time
to figure out what we can do. Goodnight Rikki." The feel of his kiss
stayed with me as I heard his Jag pull off.

I was tired, but couldn't bring myself to undress. I did carefully
rehang my sable in it's garment bag and pulled my long, slinky, black
gloves off. I wandered out to the living room and fixed myself a
drink, a gin and tonic. I felt a little sore all over, my day had been
a little physical, in an orgasmic sort of way, so I popped the last of
my muscle relaxers and kicked back on the couch. The clock was just
chiming 6 A.M. when the phone rang. I slid down the couch and reached
for it when suddenly I remembered that Mom had been going to call me
last night. Shit! I couldn't answer the phone as Jessica, well both
Eric and Marisa knew about Rikki's little secret. God, I was going to
have to get over making problems for myself. I answered just as the
answering machine kicked in. "Hello?" God I hated the sound of Rich-
ard's voice, so wishy-washy and male. "Rikki darling?" Marisa sounded
wonderful. I let my voice climb an octave, and marveled at how much
better I sounded. "Marisa darling! Oh I've got so much to tell you,
you were right about everything! I had a wonderful time! I just got
home about half an hour ago and your never going to guess what hap-
pened!" I paused, slightly out of breath. "I can guess sweetheart;"
Marisa laughed; "You've got that just fucked glow in your voice. How
wonderful! Are you doing something with Eric today or may I come over
later today, after noon, maybe about twoish." The wonderful thought of
both Eric's and Marisa's fabulous cocks in me made me smile to myself
as I answered. "Darling, I always have time for you. Eric is flying
out today so we have the rest of the weekend to ourselves. But if Eric
were here, I'd still want you to come." Marisa laughed at my uninten-
tional pun. "I think I may have created a sexual Frankenstein here.
But that was sweet of you to say, really. I had a great night too, not
as good as yours, but Jason seem's to like me and we have a date for
tonight. But not until ten tonight. He has to work, poor baby." "Maybe
I should worry about you having time for me Marisa darling." I
giggled. "Never worry about that Rikki darling, men ar OK, but they
can never share what we have. I don't think ether Eric or Jason would
let me get turned on by fixing their hair, makeup and dressing them up
in tight, slinky dresses." I couldn't help but laugh at that. "Your
right as always sweetheart." I paused to take a sip of my gin and
tonic, then continued; "You've been right about everything so far. I
can't describe how I felt last night, having the door opened for me,
having my chair held, knowing that everyone in the restaurant accepted
me as a pretty girl;" I caught sight of my reflection in the glass
door of the grandfather clock and made a correction; "not a girl, but
a beautiful woman. Then to find out that I could make a man happy,
have him want me and make him cum." I sat my empty glass down and let
a long, red nail gently trace my nylon. I continued; "I'm so glad that
you made me go out last night. I wish I could stay like this forever."
Marisa laughed gently. "Well lover, you'd better get some sleep, I
don't want you all puffy eyed and cranky when I get there. Goodnight
Rikki darling." "Goodnight Marisa, I love you darling." Leaving my
glass on the floor with my cherry red lipstick still smeared on it, I
wandered into my, well Richard's, sickeningly male bedroom. Getting
the dress unzipped took some doing, long nails look lovely, but
they're not real useful. I slipped out of the spiked heels and care-
fully took my dress off and hung it on a hanger. I couldn't bring
myself to take my bra and waist cinch off, the tightness just felt to
good and I found myself wishing that I could lace the black satin
foundation even tighter. I did however take the gaff off and washed it
and my clitty cock. (A girl has to stay fresh down there.) Trying not
to muss my hair to much, I slipped my headphones, slipped Maiden songs
II into my Walkman for the first time, and drifted off to sleep
delicately fondling my breasts with one hand and my semi-hard boy
thing with the other.

  Part 5

The dream was wonderful, her satin soft lips sliding up and down my
stiff, aching, clitty-cock while her velvety fingers kneaded my cum
filled boy balls. Every time that my dream lover felt my relief come
near, gentle pressure would deny my need to spew my love juice into
the sucking, demanding mouth whose tongue licked my painful hardon. As
I drifted in the dream would that I never wanted to end, I slowly
became aware that my dream lover was real. I opened my eyes and gazed
lovingly down at Barbie as she sucked her friend Madge's cock. The
thought made me giggle, and Barbie looked up from my lipstick smeared
boy-meat. "Well, I was wondering if you were ever going to wake up
sleepy head." She slid up the bed and the taste of my pre-cum just
made the long, loving kiss sweeter. As she slowly and reluctantly
broke her lips away from me I let my eyes take in my lover. I almost
came just looking at her. The Barbie image was even stronger this
morning, she now looked literally like a page from one of the little
Barbie catalogs come to life. Her golden blonde mane was pulled back
into a sexy pony tail that hung down to the small of her back. Marisa
began to gently stroke my cock with her slender fingers as she let a
bit of iron creep into her soft contralto voice. "You know Rikki, you
left the door unlocked, your glass in the living room next to the
phone and your dress hanging on Richard's bedroom door. All in all,
you should be glad that I showed up a little early and cleaned up.
What would you do if you'd have woke up to Jessica screaming "What the
fuck are you doing in my clothes, you little faggot" "I'm sorry
Marisa, your right, I'm such a ditz. (Ditz? What do I mean by that?
But Marisa's right.) I just bare the thought of taking all of my, I
mean Jessica's pretty things off. Please don't be mad at me." Marisa
smiled "Your forgiven darling, but I going to have to teach you to be
more careful. Now let's get you up, oh you are already up!" With that
Marisa scooted down and my heart began to pound as I watched her wet,
slick pink lips approach my she-meat. I could feel her warm breath on
my now painful hardon. "Does Rikki want her nasty boy-thing sucked?"
Marisa whispered. Oh yes darling, I need to cum so bad, my balls
hurt." "Rikki was bad, she didn't clean up did she?" "No darling, I
didn't." "And your a ditz, aren't you?" "Yes darling, I guess I am."
"Tell me what you are, well Rikki." I was blushing wildly as I an-
swered; "I'm a stupid, empty headed bimbo and I need to be taught a
lesson." I couldn't believe what I was saying as I said it. But more
and more all that counted was that Marisa like me, that I do just what
I was told in a manner that she found pleasing. Instead of losing my
stiffy during this humiliating exchange, my desire increased, I was
even more turned on. I remembered her tieing me up that first time she
had ever dressed me up in pretty girl things, and I remembered how
helpless I'd felt, how scared. It was almost as if I could feel the
handcuffs and the rope again. As these thought flooded through my
mind, I felt Marisa take just the tip of my clitty-cock between her
satin soft lips, and I moan out my need; "Please Marisa, please, I'll
be a good girl from now, please Marisa." Marisa's hand was cupping my
balls, squeezing tighter and tighter, my hands were making fluttering
gestures, she was hurting my boy-balls so good. Marisa move up on the
bed, her free hand pushing her skirt up and then pulling her sheer
panties down. Swinging her leg up and over my head I was suddenly
presented with the sight of Marisa's semi-hard penis above my waiting
lips. I hungrily arched my neck to take her in my mouth, the feel of
her satin cock head touching my lips so wonderful that if Marisa
hadn't clamped down hard on my balls I would have came right that
second. My arms were pinned to my sides by Marisa's strong thighs and
legs and her wonderful cock was filling my mouth with it sweet pre-cum
taste. She was right about everything, I was a ditz, helpless, stupid,
sexual, hot, I wanted to be dressed in tight sexy clothes, high spiked
heels, I wanted to be mindless, available, pleasing. I was moving my
hips, trying to make her lips slid up and down my shaft, but she was
denying me that pleasure, instead I felt her teeth. I stopped moving
my hips and her painful bite relaxed. I tried to lay very still,
relaxing my body, becoming limp. As I became more passive, Marisa's
crushing grip on my balls relaxed and slowly her tongue began to trace
a tiny circle around my cock head. Marisa's now fully erect cock
filled my mouth I lay still under her. Marisa began to pump her hips,
slowly at first but then with greater and greater force. Marisa was
fucking my mouth, and I loved it! I wanted to cum, but couldn't as I
lay still, passive, dressed in my waist cinch, bra, hose and heels.
Marisa's lips were gentle but unmoving on my shaft as her tongue
expertly teased me to the brink of orgasm over, her soft hands knead-
ing my now overfull boy-balls. Faster and deeper Marisa drove her cock
down my throat, gaging me with her wonderful, hard, stiff she-male
penis, making me suck and lick. Gagging me exactly as I deserved. I
lay completely passive as I was face fucked by my lover, her legs now
clamped around me like a silken straight jacket. Then her cock was
buried deep in my throat as her load of girl-cum flooded my mouth and
down my throat. I had to gulp desperately to avoid being drowned in
Marisa's cum. As I felt her cock pulsing it's jets of warm, sticky,
thick cum into my mouth, as I lay there, helpless and submissive under
her, my arms held tightly to my side by her strong thighs, I felt the
intense pleasure of my submission as my clitty-cock gave up it's load
of boy juice to my lovers hungry, demanding mouth.

Marisa collapsed on top of me as she finally spent her load of cum
into my mouth pussy. Half smothered under her softly scented body, I
began to lock her sweet cock clean, wanting and needing her cum,
loving the feel if her softening penis in my mouth. As I loving licked
my lover clean, I felt her lips leave my cock. Marisa lay there for
what seemed like forever, but I didn't mind, I loved her weight on top
of me, pinning me to the bed. I felt her wipe my cock clean with my
sheet and then she slowly slid off and stood. Looking down at me she
slowly and slid her cock back into her wispy panties and straightened
her skirt. Once again, Marisa was complete, a beautiful young woman,
her boy thing a sweetly hidden secret.

After I got up, I learned to straighten my hair and to reapply my
makeup. After I was picture perfect, I was told by Marisa to strip.
When I started to object (I really wanted to put my beautiful dress,
the one Eric had fucked me in), Marisa lightly slapped me and told me
to shut up and to get my stupid ass out of Jessica's clothes. When I
started to cry, Marisa told me to put on a happy face and that if I
wasn't good, I should expect to be treated like a bad sissy-boy. She
then sat me down in front of Mother's mirror and told me to practice
looking like a good girl. I sat there staring at the beautiful,
heavily made up sexy boy-girl in the mirror who's ravishing face was
fixed in a mindlessly sexual smile, a total come on to all. Only when
she was happy that I'd learned my lesson was I allowed to get up and
get dressed. While I'd been sitting at the mirror Marisa had brought
in six boxes and laid them on the bed. After receiving permission, I
was allowed to go over to them. The top box contained a dozen roses
from Eric, long stemmed red roses, with a note addressed to Jessica.
Marisa said that I could read the note after I got dressed. As I
reached for the second box, Marisa gently stopped me. "Rikki, up to
now, I've dressed you in ether your Mother's or sister's clothes. I've
let you pretend to be you sister and all in all, I've been pleased.
But from now on you have to earn your time as Jessica. So, if you want
Eric to see Jessica again, Rikki had better be a good girl for me.
These boxes have Rikki's clothes in them, clothes that Rikki will take
care of and wear. Also these boxes have Rikki's makeup, makeup I
expect Rikki to become expert with. From now on Richard will never
call me, only Rikki may, and Rikki had better be shaved, made up,
dressed, wigged and perfect when I arrive. We'll still play dress up
and I'll find lot's of reasons to allow you into Mommies's closets,
but only I will allow it. You may dress in Rikki's things whenever you
like, but Christina's and Jessica's things are off limits unless I
allow it. Do you understand. "Yes darling." I meekly agreed. My heart
was in my throat, Rikki's things, oh yes!. I knew everything would be
beautiful! My hands were trembling as Marisa handed me the first box
of her boxes. I opened it and was rewarded with a box of what must
have been 20 pair of pantyhose in a dozen shades. The colors of the
Haines ultra sheer hose ranged from midnight blue through neutral
beige to pastel pink and blue, to white. Under the still wrapped panty
hose were 8 pair of bikini panties in, 2 each of pink, black, white
and beige. Marisa handed me my gaff and as I forced my clitty cock
into the restrictive latex Marisa removed the tags from a pair of the
white panties. As soon as my gaff was on properly, I was handed the
silky, lacy panties and pulled them on over my shaved legs. "That's
better Rikki, now come here and set down." I walked back over to Mom's
makeup table and sat down. My hopes of a new make over were dashed as
Marisa instead to gum solvent and removed first my wig then the
wonderfully life like synthetic breasts that gave me such a magnifi-
cent voluptuous figure. As she cleaned up my chest looked longingly at
the pile of latex and silicone that I'd come to love. I looked down in
disgust at my flat chest and noticed that I had developed just the
tiniest of breasts (so small that I was sure that it was just wishful
thinking). Marisa produced a tape measure and wrapped it first over my
nipples then under my ever so slightly budding breasts. She pronounc-
ed; "Well just a 34AA, but a journey of a thousand miles and all that
shit. Don't worry darling, I promise that this is temporary, you'll be
a 40EE before you know it. Now get your sweet little tush up and let's
see what other pretty things you have." The second box yielded three
pretty lace bras that matched my panties, in white, black and beige.
With the cryptic remark; "No sense in making a big investment in
little bra's."; Marisa removed the price tag from the white bra and
helped me into it. The bra was padded, underwired (rather stiffly) and
had push up pads. Once my tiny titties were settled in the lace cups I
could see by my reflection that I now had a B cup and enough cleavage
that I was no longer embarrassed not having the kind of breasts that
bimbos should have (what a strange thought, but it's true, I should
have big tits, that what my lovers like, so I guess I should be what
they want, shouldn't I?). I was handed a pair of the Haines silky
sheer pantyhose, black, and after a little instruction on how to
handle them without running the with my nails, hand or toe, managed to
get into them. I really like hose better, but Marisa had made it clear
that these were mine, so I made the best of it. The second box also
contained three sets of lingerie, half slips, matching camisoles, in
black, white and beige. I was given the black half slip to put on.
When I checked in the mirror, I was greeted with a young woman with
short brown hair, very tousled, an adequate figure, maybe a little to
thin, standing there in her underthings. Marisa took my hand and lead
me back to the makeup table and cleaned my face of Jessica's seductive
pretty bitch face and removed my wonderful long dangling earrings.
Then I was given a hair cut and suddenly I had bangs, and hot rollers.
A quick brush out and then she was back over to the bed. She returned
with the third box and handed it to me. Inside was an entire
assortment of cosmetics. Marisa spent the next hour teaching me to do
my, Rikki's makeup. "Darling, first you clean your face, if you don't
you'll break out and I, for one, don't like that in a girl. Next you
use this concealer stick under your eyes, just to smooth every thing
out. Now sheer beige foundation, cover girl. You really have pretty
skin, your pores are almost female in size, that right blend it into
the hairline, good. Now your eyeshadow, here this case has color
coordinated tones that make it hard to make a mistake. Bronze on the
eyelid, that right, not too much. Good! Now just a hint of mocha frost
in the crease. Good, now for some soft blue liner, not so much that it
oblivious, that's right. Do your brows with this brown pencil, give
them a little more arch, just a little, very pretty. Now soft brown
mascara, you have lovely lashes naturally, but this will make them
fuller and a little darker. Good, your doing wonderful Rikki. After
you've done this for a while, you'll be able to have your makeup on in
20 minuets flat. Now, put your lipstick on, here use this coral, use
the brush, that right, now some powder, good that takes care of the
tiny pore problem you might have. Well Rikki, how do you look?"

A very pretty young woman looked back at me, maybe 22, 23 years old,
tastefully made up. Her short brown hair no longer look male, but more
like a tinkerbell cut, the deep bangs somehow out of place, but
framing her face most attractively. You could see girls like me every
morning on our way to work, well after I put a dress and some shoes on
that is. Marisa brought over the fifth box and opened it to reveal a
smiling wig head with a long, past shoulder length fall pinned to it.
The fall matched my hair shade exactly and I was informed that it was
human hair and needed to be cared for. I was shown how to maintain the
soft curl and told exactly how to wash and set the long brown tresses.
Marisa showed me how to pin the fall in place and how to brush my
short hair into place so that the effect was of a perfectly natural
head of hair softly falling to just past my shoulders. I was then
shown how to fix it in several becoming fashions. The last style was a
soft upswept style that gathered the silky soft hair into a soft bun.
The image that looked back at me from the mirror was me, but such a
different me, where Jessica had been older, more glamorous, far more
sophisticated, with Jessica full pouting lips, high sculpted cheek-
bones, pencil thin, arching brows and sparkling green eyes, this young
woman's face was smaller, her brows far more natural, her hazel eyes
gentle and doe like. While Jessica's face was bitchy, powerful,
sexual, demanding, Rikki's was the face was the face of the bank's
newest loan officer, hired because the bank president fantasized about
fucking her while jerking off, the grade school teacher that her girl
students (and maybe one or two of her boy students) wanted to grow up
like and the principle could wait to fuck, the restrained, tasteful,
educated, attractive look of a pretty yuppie all made up at her
accomplished, professional best.

The last box on the bed was far to small for a dress, in fact it was
only slightly larger then shoe box. In the box was a maroon clutch,
and a red wallet. I opened the wallet and was rewarded with by my
transformed image smiling up at me from a Florida drivers license and
a social security card. Opening the chic leather wallet further
revealed an Mastercard, Visa, Exxon, Shell, Lerners, J.C. Penneys,
Sears, Liberty House, and a lifetime membership card to the Holiday
Spas, all made out to Ms. Rikki Angelika St. James. I was stunned to
say the least. "There all real, the credit limits are $500.00 on the
Visa and Mastercard, $300.00 on the rest, right now all have a zero
balance charged on them, but your responsible for anything you buy.
Your 23 years old and unmarried." In the box was an envelope, inside
was a birth certificate, made out in the same name, a diploma from
some place called Robert E. Lee High school and a second from Sarasota
Community Collage showing that I'd acquired a Associates's of Art's
Degree in Office Management. Also in the box was a thick folder.
Shaken, I blurted out; "How ever did you get these? I mean this is all
to much..." Marisa cut me off; "Don't worry about that, just accept
that any check will reveal that Rikki A. St. James is a very real
person, in the folder is a bio that I would learn by heart if I were
you. The bills from your credit cards will come to my house and you'll
use that as an as an address and phone number for now. Get you things
and come with me." Dumbly I picked up all of the boxes and followed
Marisa into Richard's, I mean my bedroom. She walked over by the
closet and ordered; "Put the boxes on the bed and come here. Not
knowing what else to do, neatly arranged the boxes (my roses on top of
course and walked over to Marisa. With no further explanation Marisa
opened the closet. My heart leap with joy. The far wall of the walk-in
closet was hung with beautiful clothes. One sweater and three blouses
were first. The sweater was a wonderful white silk turtleneck. Then
the blouses, one white silk shawl collared, one beige crepe with a bow
tie neck, and a bright yellow cotton print. Hanging next to the
blouses was a suit in a beautiful maroon. Further down was a black
wool blazer jacket, followed by three skirts, gray wool, black linen
and a soft pink cotton. Hanging next them was a black leather skirt
with a matching black leather swing coat. The last hanger held a black
and hot pink leotard set. On the floor were four pair of shoes. The
first pair were black patent pumps with a three inch stacked heel.
Next to the black pumps were a matching pair in maroon, followed by a
pair in gray but with two inch heels. The last pair were Lady Nike
aerobics workout shoes with hot pink socks in them. "Oh Marisa, thank
you...But Marisa?" "Yes Rikki?"; "How can I hide all this?" Marisa
jerked my arm so that I faced her; "That bitch, is your problem. I'm
getting tired of you always whining. Now, go get your maroon suit, the
white silk blouse and your red pumps."

Twenty minuets later found me standing in front of Mothers floor
length mirror, a perfect Yuppie princess. The suit fit like a dream,
the collarless jackets slight peplem waist flared out gently over my
slender hips to create the illusion on a more rounded figure. The
skirt hung perfectly to just fractionally above my black nyloned knee.
The shawl collar of the white silk blouse showed off just the slight-
est hint of cleavage. When I sat just exactly right the vent in the
skirt allowed you just the barest of peeks at the frothy black lace
trim on my slip. The three inch heels matched my suit just as my nails
did. I wore a slim, gold Lady Seiko wristwatch, gold studs in my ears
(large enough to be noticed, small enough to be discreet.) and a small
pin of crystal shards. I found my self comparing the image that smiled
back at me to mother in her red power suit. In my mind I envied her
fuller, sexier body, but all in all, I found Rikki more then attrac-
tive enough. Then for no reason that I could think of a new thought
entered my mind. That other BITCH had no right to her wonderful body,
she had no right to have closets full of sexy clothes. And Jessica's
body was even better, younger, her breasts larger, her clothes even
more daring. Why should those two cunts have everything while I was
going to have to hide my pretty things. I felt myself grow excited at
these awful thoughts. Then Marisa's voice brought me back to reality.
"Well Rikki, you look wonderful. Now since you look like such a lady,
let's make sure you act like one." She rest of the day correcting the
unladylike sins of omission and commission that I'd committed last
night plus drilling me on my new femme persona. How to sit, gestures
to make, walking, talking, holding my bag. My date of birth, what
happened to my parents (an automobile accident two years ago.), my
phone number, address, signing my name, do I have any brothers or
sisters (no, I'm an only child.), relatives (none close, and none that
I've seen in the last ten years.). Marisa encouraged me to keep as
many of Jessica's habits and manners. If I heard it once that after-
noon, I heard it a hundred time, "Just do what Jessica would do."

Suddenly it was 7 P.M. and Marisa was gathering up her things to
leave. By now I was so horny that I didn't know what to do. I tried
every trick in the world to get Marisa to stay, but she simply kissed
me, handed me a package and left. I smoothed my skirt under me and
gracefully sat down on the couch to open the small box. Inside was
another bottle of muscle relaxers, six 3 1/2 inch computer disks, a
VHS video tape and huge, lifelike dildo of all things. I took every-
thing back to Richards room, straightened Christina's room and got the
video tape, wandered back into the family room and fixed myself a Gin
and Tonic. I popped the tape into VCR and settled into the couch
(being careful not to muss myself). The tape was a home style movie,
staring my sister! Just as I had primped and preened while dressing
last night, my sister was doing a encore, but while I'd been dressing
in sexy, pretty clothes, Jessica was dressing in the tight, black
latex super skin, of a dominatrix!

When the tape began, Jessica was already wearing a pair of highly
shined black latex bikini panties and a matching bra. The effect
against her white creamy skin was stunning. She had already made her
face up, gleaming, wet, black eyeliner, glittering silver eyeshadow,
hot pink blush and bright, bright red lipstick that matched her inch
long nails. Her hair was fixed in a Gibson Girl styled bun and long
dangling gold earrings. As I watched Jessica was making quit a produc-
tion out of settling her beautiful, full breasts into the tight latex
bra cups, I found myself becoming very excited by the vision of my
sister in her fetish finery. When Jessica had her tits properly
encased in the thin, clinging latex, she backed up a step and reaching
to the chair behind her picked up a black latex waist cinch / garter
belt (well I wasn't sure what it was, it looked to wide to be just a
garter belt.) and began to struggle into it. When I said struggle, I
meant it. The latex squeezed my sister's sexy body tight and she
wormed her way into it. Watching her as she tugged and pulled the
ultra-tight under garment on, I felt myself getting really very turned
on, wanting release. I stood and unzipped the maroon suit skirt and
carefully removed it, laying across the back of the couch. The skirt
was instantly followed by my lacy black half slip. As Jessica finally
got the waist cinch up around her waist and began to adjust it so that
her garters hung down straight, I let my hand creep inside the waist
band of my panty hose and began to massage my nasty boy thing through
my both my silky panties and my gaff. After some very seductive
pulling and tugging (mostly unnecessary, but I had to remember those
moves, oh so sexy) the waist cinch's fit was, at last, to Jessica's
liking. A wonderful, pouting smile on her face (one that I found
myself imitating) Jessica backed up to the chair and picked up a pair
of black latex hose. Sitting on the edge of the chair, Jessica picked
up a can of talc and smoothed a generous amount on her shapely legs,
the shook some more into the hose. Carefully rolling the super thin
latex hose she slipped the pretty, painted toenails of her left foot
into the hose. Ever so slowly, pausing every few inches to smooth and
caress her new black rubber skin, Jessica allowed the unbelievably
tight hose to encase her left leg, over her knee and all the way up to
almost the top of her thigh. The performance was repeated with her
right leg and as she stood to fasten the six garters that hung down
her thighs, I found that I was rubbing myself energetically, trying to
make myself cum. But while I was certainly excited, I couldn't cum, I
wanted to, but I just couldn't. I could feel the squishy sensation of
my pre-cum lubricating the inside of the gaff, feel the fullness in my
tightly hidden balls, but the relief I want and needed wouldn't
happen. When my attention returned to the screen Jessica was finished
hooking the garters and was showing off to the camera. The hose fit
her as if they had been sprayed on Jessica's shapely legs, there
wasn't a wrinkle or seam to mar the highly shined black latex rubber.
God, I wanted to cum! Jessica disappeared for a second and when she
returned she had several items all hung neatly on hangers. Except for
the fact that it was all latex, detail was impossible.

Details on the next item she picked up was impossible to miss. A
perfectly shined black patent ankle high boot with the highest and
slimmest spiked heel I'd ever seen in my life. Jessica slowly brought
the boot up to her red pouting lips and slowly and gently let her pink
tongue dart out to lick the pencil thin 7 inch stiletto heel. My
sister was going through the motions of giving head to the impossibly
high heel. I needed, wanted, to cum so bad as Jessica licked and
sucked on the boots spiked cock. Both of my hands were down the front
of the silky pantyhose, rubbing and squeezing my boy-thing, trying to
give me the relief I needed. I couldn't make myself cum. I was trying
to masturbate so hard and while my excitement grew, all that happened
was that my clitty cock remained semi-soft and my anguish grew. My
sister transferred the boot from her ruby red lips to her black latex
covered pussy, rubbing the toe against her clearly outlined cunt lips.
Her motions became more and more frenzied as the boot was pressed
harder and harder against her rubber covered twat. Jessica was moaning
now, fucking her pussy with the sharply pointed toe of the black
leather boot. I watched as Jessica brought herself to orgasm while her
lips mouthed the words "Fuck me" over and over. And I wanted to, I
wanted to make Jessica dress me in her sexy latex and I wanted my foot
to be wearing the boot whose toe would be grinding into her pussy,
while I made her suck my clitty-cock. I could image the thick white
cum as it shot all over her made up face, dripping down on those huge
breasts. I wanted to cum so bad, my ball ached with the need to spew
my boy juice out. But relief still eluded me. After her orgasm (yes
the bitch came and I didn't!) she collapsed back on the chair and
picked up a black lace handkerchief and slowly wiped the boot's heel
clean of lipstick and carefully pulled it on her dainty foot. It's
mate quickly followed and both were laced tightly on.

When Jessica stood up, I realized that just walking in the obscenely
spiked, scandalously high, heels was an art. Her steps were now short
and mincing, her hips swaying erotically with every step. How could
something that made you so very feminine and helpless also make you so
overpowering and dominate? After the boots were on, Jessica slipped
into a floor length black latex dress. The skirt to the dress was A-
line and fell exactly to the toe of Jessica's boots. Every step
revealed just a hint of the spiked heels hidden underneath. The dress
had a high neck line and was skintight from the waist up, it's long
sleeves fitting like a second skin. Jessica had a hard time getting
the dress zipped up the back and I loved watching her struggle. (Why
was that?) Then the dress was on and Jessica disappeared out of the
camera's range. My need had now built to the point that I would have
done anything for relief, when suddenly I remembered the dildo laying
in the box on Richard's bed. I pulled my hands from my pantyhose and
ran to get it. My 3 inch heels clicking wildly, I pushed open the door
and grabbed at the 14 inch long rubber cock. Looking at it for the
first time, I could see how wonderfully lifelike it was, with a huge,
cut cockhead and large purple veins. The false cock ended in a pair of
balls as I could see that it was hollow and was now filled with a
vibrator. I ran to the bathroom and quickly coated the head with some
vaseline and then, after pulling my pantyhose down squatted right
there and forced the huge cock into my waiting ass. God it was so big,
bigger even the Eric's huge tool. As the dildo slid into my back door
I moaned and fumbled for the base of the vibrator. A turn and the soft
buzz of the motor was lost on me as the tool began to shake and move.
Further and further I shoved the wonderful dancing shaft into my bum
hole. I wanted it all in me, I wanted to be filled with cock. Then it
was in, shoved up as far as I could get it. I could feel the huge cock
as it jiggled wildly inside of me. I stood and pulled my panties up
and then my panty hose. Walking slowly with am ass pack full of dildo
I returned to the living room. Ignoring the TV, I slowly and carefully
I pulled on first the black half slip then the maroon suit skirt.
After carefully tucking my white silk blouse in and zipping and
buttoning the skirt. Walking very erect and trying to hold the dildo
inside me, I walked to Mother's room and checked myself in the mirror.
I was again the picture perfect Ms. Yuppie, all dressed in her power
suited best, her smile fixed, her manicured fingers holding her purse
demurely in front of her. I opened the purse, removed my lipstick and
touched up my lips. Recapping the tube I dropped it back in my clutch
and returned to the living room. Sitting down with my legs together,
carefully crossed at the ankle, my purse held ladylike in my lap, I
let my eyes return to the screen. The dildo hummed and buzzed in my
ass as I watched Jessica pull on her right elbow length black rubber
glove, her left already encased in shiny rubber. After her hands were
gloved, she pulled the clinging rubber up over the sleeves of her
dress. I was moving ever so discreetly, loving the feel of being
filled with a huge dildo, being dressed in my refined suit, setting
posed just so, to the world a perfect, urbane, virtuous Miss Yuppie
but secretly a shameless slut, her ass filled with cock! As Jessica
fastened a studded leather choker around her graceful neck with her
rubber covered fingers I felt my clitty cock cum. The attractive young
professional woman whose reflection was superimposed over the latex
clad dominatrix on the TV screen moaned softly as waves of pleasure
flooded over her, but her sweet 'may I help you smile' never wavered
and her carefully folded hands never moved.