Message-ID: <22421asstr$948665404@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: vickietern@aol.com (VickieTern)
X-Original-Message-ID: <20000123112554.14553.00000256@nso-fh.aol.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Threesome Part 4/13, by Vickie Tern. M/f, F/m, F/F, femdom, etc.
Date: Sun, 23 Jan 2000 17:10:04 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2000/22421>
X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Moderator-ID: kelly, newsman, Vulpine
{ASSM} Threesome Part 4/13, by Vickie Tern. M/f, F/m, F/F, femdom, etc.
The sex scenes in this story are raw, cooked, scrambled, and coddled.
No violence or force, but that doesn't necessarily mean the
characters are always nice to each other.
This is a fiction. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead
is purely coincidental. It may not remain that way of course -- life
sometimes imitates art.
If you aren't old enough to read this lawfully, wait. If it's
worth reading it'll still be around. If not, no great loss. Of
course I hope it will still be worth reading, and will appreciate
anyone letting me know what they think: VickieTern@aol.com.
(c) 2000 by Vickie Tern. May be copied to any free archive.
Threesome 4/13
by Vickie Tern
Rebecca now appeared fully dressed in the hallway, wearing a suit
and blouse and heels much like mine. "You're ready to go, Becky?"
Ellie asked.
"I think so, darling," Rebecca replied lazily. "You know, Ellie,
he does look ridiculous. A man in a dress! How could you have
ever wanted to marry this clown? I myself don't mean to get it on
with men ever again, though I can understand how your feelings are
different. And in fact I really can admire men who look like men,
a man who's just what he is, no apologies. But your 'Joy' here
isn't what he is. Just look at him! He isn't anything!"
At first Elaine didn't answer. Then "He looks cute, Becky. Not at
all ridiculous. And you know that!"
Rebecca rolled up her eyes and shrugged.
"He's doing this for me, Becky," Elaine then said. "And that's
something, I think! Something I admire a lot!"
Good answer! I thought.
"We'll see," Rebecca replied shortly. "I called his office just
after you did. His boss was once a patient of mine, did you know
that? Joy here now has three weeks'leave to attend Miss Caroline's
School, maybe as soon as this weekend. Three weeks of intensive
conditioning and training. 'Compassionate leave' is what your boss
granted you, Joseph, though 'pathetic leave' would be closer to the
truth, if you want to know. Anyhow, Ellie, so as far as his office
is concerned, he's set up after tomorrow for however long it takes.
Then I called Miss Caroline to let her know how we'll want
him...ah... redesigned. I've arranged things there too. Joy here
is about to become more of a girl than he ever dreamed he'd be when
he volunteered to stay here with us and wrestle me for your
affections! Irreversible femininity, that's what we've promised
him, right? And he's agreed to it! No, not agreed -- he's asked
for it! Just wait!"
The two of them then left without looking back at me, though each
of the women raised a hand and rotated a wrist in farewell. "See
you tonight, honey," Elaine called out, no doubt as last-minute
encouragement. "Enjoy!"
Well, the day went better in some ways than I'd expected, but also
a lot worse. A lot of it was humiliating. But with some
surprises.
First, what I saw in the front hall mirror as I left the house was
a terribly nervous man wearing a skirt, makeup, and teased-up hair.
Out the door I went, trying not to see if any of the neighbors saw
me. I drove to my appointment at the "Cut'n Curl" beauty salon,
and nervously walked in.
And no one noticed or cared. I began to feel...ordinary. A woman
walked up and looked at me and said, "O yes, you're Joy, Elaine's
told me all about you, don't worry about a thing! I'm Francesca!"
She took off my suit jacket and sat me down, and draped a salmon
colored sheet over me, and called in an army of women to work me
over. Everyone seemed so matter-of-fact I lost all semblance of
nervousness. I even dozed a bit.
Three hours later I'd been waxed, plucked, pierced, dyed, coated,
twisted, and teased, Francesca assured me, into a semblance of what
Elaine wanted, a cute professional woman, capable but
unthreatening. Meanwhile she kept up a constant patter, telling me
how to talk, and walk, and smile at other women, and avoid eye
contact with other men, what she called her minimal survival kit
for the girl she was making me. "I don't want to see you get in
trouble," she said. "Being a girl is the most wonderful thing in
the world! Really! You should enjoy it! I do!"
She then told me things she enjoyed most about being a girl, sex
with men being the most prominent. She spared me no details. I
tried not to listen, but my eyes were closed, and as she talked her
words projected a pornographic movie onto my eyelids. I'd never
seen the underside of my own erect cock, nor any other man's, but
after a while I could see each vein and bump and ripple of the half
a dozen she described to me, including her husband's and her two
current boyfriends'. I also heard her graphic descriptions of how
each cock felt when she was sucking and licking and sliding her
lips along it, how and where she'd done it, and the special
delights of nipping it with her teeth. "They get scared when they
feel teeth," she informed me. "I like them to feel a little bit
scared. Then they know who's in charge."
Then, "You do know, sweetie, that we don't really blow them," she
disclosed as she wrapped my hair in rollers for the third time, or
maybe the fourth. "Not like balloons! They can get plenty big
enough, those pricks, some of them, without our trying to blow them
up bigger! But I did once get a guy to cum by giving him a real
blow-job! Really! I breathed moist air from my mouth into that
purple helmet head they have, you've seen it haven't you? I blew
gently into it, into the little hole they have there, and his thing
got more and more purple, and then suddenly it squirted all over my
face. And my mouth never touched him once! He was watching, and
just that drove him crazy!"
"Are men ever in charge when you go down on them, Francesca?" I
asked her as two women did something I couldn't see to my nails.
When Ellie'd gone down on me, I'd always thought of it as
subservience, and was always a little embarrassed for her. A
college graduate with two Master's degrees, running her mouth up
and down my penis! But this girl-talk was a revelation.
"Of course not," Francesca replied, touching something to my
eyelids. "Are they ever? They're way too eager when the surf's up
inside them and they're thinking only with their little heads. You
can make them do anything! I can keep a man servicing me eagerly
half the night with a little touch here and a tickle there, as long
as I don't let him cum. I'll go down on them to reward them, now
and then, especially those who perform toilet services in order to
please me. They're always so pathetically grateful! You'll see!"
Francesca was talking to me as if I weren't a man but an
inexperienced woman! Didn't she know? But it didn't matter now.
I suppose now I was one of the girls as far as they were concerned.
One of the manicurists working on my fingertips began to describe
how she teases her husband relentlessly to keep him in line, a
hulking brute, she was saying, with a teeny cock compared to the
one his best friend offers her now and then. "You know how I deal
with his teeny cock problem?" she asked, then volunteered an
answer. "Bubble wrap inside two condoms! Then he can't hardly
get it into me, but when he does I feel so stuffed all I can do is
I shriek and shriek, God, the good feeling that gives me! I soak
him and the bed both! And the funny part is, he can't feel a thing
the whole time! He gets off by watching me get off, the poor dumb
dear! For a special treat on his next birthday I'm going to let
him watch while his best buddy gets me off. The way that man moves
and gets me moving, my big little hubby'll cream in his jeans
without even touching himself!"
She was rearing back to say much more, but Francesca touched and
sprayed me once more and then told me I was done.
"I hope you don't mind," she said. "Where I could I used dyes and
stains on your face, not waxes and creams. It isn't permanent
make-up, exactly, but it won't smear, and it'll look presentable
for a few weeks I should think. Maybe a month or two. You can use
ordinary makeup over it if you wish, but for now it'll be easier
for you not to have to worry about things like that. It won't wash
off, for sure!"
It won't?! I looked at myself in a salon mirror, stunned! I
hadn't bargained for this! Somewhere down below my neck was
Joseph, almost altogether hidden. But above, I saw a total
stranger! No question of it, female! My hair was now streaked
blonde and ash, and it formed a curly halo around my head and over
my ears. "Just towel dry it after every shampoo, honey," Francesca
told me. "And that hairdo will take care of itself. They won't
come out no matter what! Those curls are you!"
My eyes looked huge in my face, like a doll's or a little girl's,
and they sparkled seductively through smoky shadows and long black
lashes. My red cupid-bow lips made pretty mouees whenever I opened
them -- I seemed perpetually to be kissing something. My
fingernails extended red and oval and gleaming, smooth jewels on my
fingertips. And my chin, never exactly square and determined,
instead rather pointed and a little small, was now almost
pixie-like. Simple gold hoop earrings hung from wires visibly
penetrating my earlobes, and they matched a cascade of gold
necklaces descending from the collar of my blouse.
I looked maybe even a little overdone as a woman, but no way was I
a man. That was reassuring -- at least I wasn't going to attract
casual mockery. Leers, maybe -- in fact I aroused me a little
myself. There reflected back was an unfamiliar available woman I
knew intimately as me. It was exciting. Yet despite being inside
her I was still faithful to my wife. As if that mattered now, I
then thought ruefully. Well, it did, I replied to myself sternly!
In fact I wasn't sure what kind of a professional woman I resembled
-- I looked to me like an office bimbo. What had Elaine ordered
up? "Cute, attractive, and not intimidating." That's what she got
I guess.
When Francesca finally released me early that afternoon she said
simply. "Joy honey, when your wife sees you she's going to want to
eat you up. And you'll eat her in sheer gratitude. And that's
what this is all about, isn't it?"
I smiled at her, I hoped prettily, and told her in the sweet,
squealy, breathy voice she'd had me practicing all morning, "I
expect so, honey! Oh, I do hope so." Our real situation was a
little too embarrassing to explain.
"That's my girl," she replied. "A little more lilt, and finish
everything you say with that vulnerable smile, just that way --
it's so adorable!" And then she kissed me on the lips! "It won't
smear or come off," she said, holding my shoulders and then leaning
in for another reassuring peck. "I've made your face as thoroughly
pussy-proof as cosmetics allow! If you doubt me, just say so right
now and we'll arrange a test. It's cock-proof too, if your taste
runs the way your wife's does, and she's willing to share some of
her fun with you. The way you look now she'd better, because her
men aren't going to leave you alone. Practice your talking and
walking the rest of the day, honey. That's the only part that can
still give you away. Until you let someone get into your panties,
that is. I'll see you in a month when you come in for a retouch.
"
"Thank you, Francesca," I said, and stepped off briskly on my
moderate-height heels, allowing a slight swing in the hips. What
was that about my wife sharing her fun with men? I decided
Francesca was just speculating aloud, reassuring me that I looked
good enough not to embarrass myself, flattering me that now I was
attractive even to my own sex. I suppose I was. Like Ellie,
Francesca seemed to think I'd be getting interested in men. A
natural enough assumption for a woman to make. But I'd never had
ambitions that way! The thought revolted me! I was amused to
think that as far as looks and desire matched up, I was more like
Rebecca, a Lesbian.
My secretary Margaret didn't recognize me at all when I arrived
dolled up the way I was. Or she pretended she didn't. I asked for
myself. She consulted her appointment book and told me that I'd
have to wait, because I hadn't arrived yet though I was due in
soon. I smiled, and just looked her in the eye and kept smiling.
Then she broke her calm demeanor and smiled back in delight, as if
genuinely surprised that this woman come to call on me was me! Or
so it seemed!
"Joe? Really? Is that you? Your wife told me what to expect, but
I had no idea! That's impressive! You're lovely! Really! I love
your hairdo! You're really going all the way?"
She came around her desk and for the first time in our relationship
she gave me a big hug and a firm kiss, woman to woman. I was so
grateful for this gesture that my heart swelled up and I hugged her
back just as affectionately, and tears started to my eyes. I
suppose she thought that now there'd be no way I could
misunderstand her gesture, since women hug all the time, and now
that's what I was. For all the desperate anxiety and fear of
humiliation I'd been going through, neither my wife nor her lover
had moved to touch me since this began, much less hug and kiss me.
And they were the women closest to me! My gratitude toward
Margaret grew stronger.
But she did misunderstand what was happening! Ellie -- I wanted to
think "Miss Elaine" to avoid trouble, but I couldn't just yet -- my
wife had told Margaret that I was a lifelong transsexual woman
finally being true to herself. She knew full well that I was only
a loving and desperate husband, just as I knew full well that I was
also a calculating schemer. Or trying to be a calculating schemer,
not too successfully. Just look at me, I thought.
Margaret kept up a confused patter to cover her uncertainty about
the new me. "I'd never have dreamed you were...! Do you like
boys, too, like the rest of us? Most of us? Men, I mean, I forget
we aren't high school girls now together, are we, chatting about
boys? You missed so much back then, Joe, trying to be a boy when
you were really a girl the whole time! Well, but now it's done,
isn't it, you're a woman and you're still you! All still there?
For the time being? You're a lot prettier!" She began to remember
herself, and started back behind her desk. "And you're still my
boss, ah, Joy, now, aren't you! Now I have a lady for a boss!
That'll take some getting used to." Settling down, she beamed up
at me. "I wish you'd told me before about your secret feelings
earlier, Joy. Maybe I could have helped?"
"Maybe," I said in the glissando voice Francesca had prescribed for
me, managing to cover more than an octave with those two
syllables.. "Is Gary in?" Gary was our division manager, my boss.
I was Margaret's.
"He sure is, Joy, and waiting for you. But so's everyone else.
C'mon this way, boss!" She grinned and started down the hall
toward the meeting room we also reserved as coffee and lunch space.
When I walked in, everyone from the division was assembled there,
and they stood and applauded. Not all, some men and a woman I knew
from Accounting looked disgusted, and others kept their peace, but
most of my associates approved, and some were enthusiastic! I felt
like such a fraud! But to them I was genuine enough, and I myself
couldn't say where this was in fact leading! Cries of "I didn't
believe it when they told me!" and "Why, you're pretty!" and "I've
gotta say this, Joe, you've got guts!" and "Well, I'd better watch
out for my boy friend!" rang out from all over, people trying to
make me feel good that I was a man wearing a dress and makeup, or
as they'd been told, that I was a woman in a man's body now finally
trying to correct nature's mistake.
I really did appreciate the good feeling they were expressing. I
knew that much of it was for me, not for doctrinal correctness. I
was a well-liked associate and a good boss, caring and fair-minded.
But their sincere good wishes made me feel all the more uneasy. I
was only a man in love with his wife and trying to keep her by
playing the only cards he held in his hand, also trying to retain
some self-respect against fearful odds. So far, throwing more and
more of me into the pot to keep up the gamble! These were people
who seemed to care about me, and I was deceiving them! So where
was my self-respect?
"Got a minute, Joseph? I'm going back to my office now, too much
work, but be sure to stop by and see me before you leave for the
day. You've given me a first-rate idea!"
"You bet!" I said in my man's voice, in a reflexive response to
Gary's, my boss's. I spun on one of my heels to face him, and
nearly lost my balance. Flustered, I looked up at him and tried to
apologize, and realized that I was only waving my hands and wrists
meaninglessly and no sounds were coming out of my mouth. My
cupid-bow mouth must have looked very odd! So did I!
"You're very pretty...Joy!" Gary added. "Your wife will be lucky
to have you around sharing her interests. So would some men, too,
if you're inclined that way."
"I'm not," I said, again too quickly. "I'm a one woman man!"
"Don't you mean a one woman woman? I think you've forgotten
there's no need to pretend any more, Joy. You're a woman from now
on in this office, and don't let anyone think otherwise! That is,
when you get back from this three-week leave you'll be starting in
a day or so."
"Thank you," I said, more softly, in a higher voice. He was
talking policy, business, I heard it in his tone of voice. A
personnel matter he wanted to make sure I understood perfectly.
This certainly wasn't the moment for me to explain to him what I
was really doing.
"Well, we still need to talk," he said. "Enjoy yourself, Joy, and
stop by on your way out!" And he was gone.
It seems that everyone left early after the party, and as people
drifted away I began thinking about the best way for me to tell my
boss about my actual predicament. When it was appropriate I
thanked Margaret for setting everything up and left the meeting
room. I was thinking that any properly qualified transsexual would
think he'd died and gone to heaven if he came out of the closet
here. Or she would when she came out. That made it harder still
that I was a fake. I went directly to Gary's office and found he
was indeed going over a mountain of work on his desk. He looked
up.
"Yes, Joy! Close the door, I need to talk to you confidentially."
I did. Now the bullshit ends, I thought. He's going to fire me.
"I'm glad you're a now a woman," he said immediately, looking at me
over the stacks of papers and blueprints on his desk. "Our firm
has designed and built lots of these shopping malls in our time."
He gestured toward stacks of files on his desk. "And you've been
invaluable, tracking us through the processes, the contracts and
permissions and licenses and so forth, in a dozen different States
and juridictions, saving me from any number of mistakes."
"Thank you," I said, lilting and lisping and babydollying all at
once. "That's really sweet!" I took myself in hand. Why did I
say a dumb come-on thing like that when I meant to square with him
about what I was really doing?
He smiled at me. "Your Doctor called me, Dr. Lander, Rebecca
Lander, a dear friend of your wife's she says, and we've had a long
talk about you. Did you know she once treated me when she was a
resident at the University Medical Center? Brilliant woman! Well,
the upshot is, Joy, when you get back from this three week
re-orientation your doctor's ordered up, I'll want you to take to
the road. We need to survey the malls we've built, find out how
our original planning works nowadays, how they've modified them.
You'll need to roam them all, and talk to all of their managers,
and a lot of the store managers too. As a woman, you're ideally
qualified to find out how women really feel about shopping in them.
How we can satisfy their needs better. For example, do women want
more private places to ...ah...meet people and socialize away from
home, and be more...ah... feminine, if you know what I mean.
Should we include Inns and Motels in our malls? Short term rest
areas where a woman can ... lie down and relax for a few hours away
from their homes and their domestic obligations? Should we build
in exercise rooms with special equipment for couples with...special
tastes? Plan to find the answers deep down in your own feminine
needs. The managers will be happy to help you delve, I'm sure."
He was serious! "Gary," I said, concerned, my voice high. "That's
almost thirty malls, in almost as many cities! A site visit survey
like that will take months! It's much better done by mail and fax,
with phone followups, and visit only the most interesting.. And
besides, I'm new to this thing, to being a woman. I've never ever
shopped in a mall as a woman. Or anywhere else!"
He smiled. "Honey, I know. That's why you'll do it so well, -- no
presuppositions, no bad habits. It's all new to you! Dr. Lander
tells me that this decision of yours was so sudden that you
literally haven't a thing to wear. Well, good! You'll have a
lavish expense account of course. To buy everything you need, from
hats to boots, from bras to topcoats, from ...ahh tampons to
lipsticks! That way you'll know what it's like at first hand. Dr.
Lander tells me you're eager to explore your femininity, to gain
experience as a woman. So you'll want to test out everything you
buy on the managers you'll be ...ahhh... interviewing. I'll expect
it!"
He smiled, and then as if it were a searchlight Gary suddenly
turned his enormous charm on me! I felt blinded! I'd seen him do
it before, with women clients, and most of the time they'd then
stayed late in his office to confer more extensively, or else
they'd left his office early with him to go confer somewhere else.
The sonofabitch knew he was handsome. His teeth gleamed and his
eyes crinkled as he leaned forward. "You'd like that, wouldn't
you, Joy? A lovely woman like you? To buy whatever delights you,
and try them out on men who are eager to please you? To learn what
pleases them?"
What was he talking about? Was he putting the make on me himself?
He leaned back again. "I figure it'll take three months at least,
but with time off between trips you won't be away from your desk
more than a few weeks at a time. That's a long time to be away
from home and your lovely wife, I know. But that's what the doctor
ordered. She told me you'll need to be doing women's work in
women's spaces where no one knows you're not a woman. So you can
get accustomed to the way women think. Feel the way women feel.
Separate yourself from your old habits, from people who know you
were once a man. Forget you were ever a man!"
His smile became a confidential leer for a moment. "Dr. Lander
also tells me your marriage vows are no longer relevant. That even
though you're a one-woman woman, you'll need lots of opportunity to
get to know men, to see how you feel about them without anyone in
this town ever knowing. That you'll want to practice being
attractive to men, and satisfying them."
Rebecca had schemed this! First she was taking me away from my
home and my wife for weeks to attend this Miss Caroline's School,
and now she was arranging for me to be no more than an occasional
visitor in my own home when I returned! To be perverted into some
kind of slut seducer of men, To move me as far as possible away
from the person Elaine fell in love with and married! So all my
overtures and sacrifices in order to stay with Elaine -- just look
at me now, I was thinking, where's my manhood now -- all this has
been meaningless! Pitiable!
I'd resign first!
I was about to say so when Gary suddenly stood up and moved over to
the leather couch along one wall and sat down comfortably, arms
stretched out along the back. "What you learn about these malls by
being a woman who shops them, Joy, will be invaluable to us. But
your Doctor cautioned me you might be reluctant to take it on.
That you need to know you really can identify with women, and do
the things women do. That you probably still feel competitive with
men, more inclined to test and check them than to please yourself
by pleasing them. And most of the mall managers you'll work with
are men. She told me you'll need to break down your masculine
reserve, so what might seem to be servile and humiliating if you
were a man will instead feel like a delightful way for you to get
what you want. Even to get what you want from me. Such as the
three weeks of paid leave we've been discussing."
I thought of Francesca's comment, that a man getting a blow job is
easily led anywhere. But he was leading me into giving him a blow
job! Was he saying that I have to pay him off with a blowjob
because he's granted me paid leave so Rebecca could brainwash me
for three weeks?
"She also told me that I'll need to test out for myself how sincere
you are about this femininity of yours, since I'm expecting to
build a future with this company for you on the assumption that
deep inside you're now a woman. She was wondering whether you're
dressed the way you are not because you're transgendered but
because your wife dominates you and insists. She wonders whether
you're only a submissive sissy or a masochist seeking humiliation,
whether you dress the way you're dressed as a new way to disgrace
yourself thoroughly. You do know we'd regard that as dishonest,
using our company's liberal policy toward transsexuals merely for
masochistic fetishism, as a way to get off. We don't hire losers
like that. Only people who enjoy what they are and enjoy their
work!"
I finally saw an opening. "Gary, it's not that way at all. I'm
doing this because Ellie...."
"Your voice doesn't sound suitable, Joy!" he interrupted brusquely.
He took a few deep breaths and then said more gently, "If you're
really still a man, then you won't want to perform ... ah... the
woman's office that she suggested. I wouldn't want you to either,
because I'm not gay, so I wouldn't enjoy it! What she suggested is
that if you're really a woman, you'll welcome an opportunity to
honor my manhood with your womanhood. That it would be therapeutic
for you. That it would help prepare you to deal with all those
managers!"
God, how can I get out of this? I was thinking desperately!
"And another thing. Dr. Lander reminds me that before you develop
very many intimate personal relations with a variety of mall
managers, you'll need first to establish your loyalty to your home
office! In brief, she thinks that today, right now, I should allow
you a girl's most intimate privilege with me. That I should allow
you to go down on me. To suck my cock!"
I gulped! He noticed and grinned!
end 4/13
VickieTern@AOL.COM
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository |
|<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+