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Message-ID: <28988asstr$982815005@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: vickietern@aol.com (VickieTern)
Subject: {ASSM} NEW TG: Perfect by Vickie Tern 5/10 M/F F/m femdom
Date: Wed, 21 Feb 2001 23:10:05 -0500
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NEW TG: Perfect by Vickie Tern 5/10 M/F F/m femdom


This kind of story shouldn't be read by anyone who shouldn't read 
this kind of story.  No exceptions!

(c) 2001 by Vickie Tern.  May be copied to any free archive.  All comment
welcome (VickieTern@aol.com).


                              v.

It was Meg who suggested the next stage in my journey.  One day
when I was wearing a T-shirt around the house it seemed all too
obvious that my figure was too flat for the women I resembled. 
Gayle brought home some breast forms for me.  I didn't especially
care for them, because my own nipples had become sensitive, and I
liked their feel projected out by my bras.  The breast forms
compressed them under jiggly plastic.  Still, it seemed only proper
for me to wear them at the office under my shirt.  They justified
my wearing my brassieres, after all.  

Meg noticed them immediately.  I was in full daywear as well as
makeup, and I'd clipped a barrette over each ear to hold my new
hairdo back from my face.  I took off my jacket to work on a new
billing procedure, and my bra's lacy cups bulged out prominently
under my white dress shirt.  Meg looked at me, looked again, and
then said, "Well!  We aren't even a little bit androgynous today,
are we?"  

Connie was also intrigued.  "This will certainly improve your
rapport with our associates," she said.  "Do you mean to get
pregnant too, so you can advise them on our complete line of
nursing bras?"

I just looked at her, and unexpectedly I felt a twinge of guilt. 
I was indeed a fraud, pretending to a reality that wasn't mine,
trying to look like the woman I was not.  But my fake breasts were
for me and Gayle to think about, nobody else.  

I think Meg realized that.  "May I make just one suggestion, Allie
honey?" she asked.

"Of course," I said sweetly.  I did appreciate her tact at that
moment!  

"There are so many becoming blouses in all the stores, as you know. 
You advise women about mixing and matching them with skirts all the
time.  Why do you keep wearing those ugly men's shirts?  And I
notice you still aren't wearing hosiery.  Whether pantyhose or
stockings with a garter belt or girdle is none of my business, but
I'll bet you have fabulous legs.  Why not show them off under a
skirt?  Allie?"

"What for, Meg?  I don't feel any need to show off my legs."

"Need?  Why Allie, every girl wants to show off her legs, if she
has good legs.  They're part of the decor.  Why don't you bite the
bullet and show up for work in skirts or dresses and be done with
it?"

She was teasing.  

Finally I spoke.  "I don't know.  Maybe because I feel, somehow,
that going all the way that way, wearing complete outfits of
women's clothes, it's ... well, maybe that would be a one-way
street.  Maybe I wouldn't want ever to go back.  It's scary to
think about."

"Why should you want to go back?" Connie asked.  

I had no answer.

"Have you ever worn any of Gayle's clothes?" Meg suddenly asked me
softly.  

"Yes, once," I confessed.

"Did it feel nice?"

"Fabulous!" I replied.  The fact was, I couldn't take my eyes off
myself that one time.  I was home and Gayle was working late, and
I'd gone into her closet wondering what I'd look like.  I'd tried
different outfits.  It was terribly addictive, I'd concluded.  So
I'd carefully hung her clothes back where they belonged.

"Then enjoy being pretty, Allie.  Be a pretty girl.  That's what
it's all about.  You won't go any further than you want to. 
Certainly no further than Gayle wants you to go.  There's a
terrific sale going on now at Talbot's.  You know Talbot styles,
beautifully cut, tasteful, classics, never flamboyant but not too
casual or conservative either. Clothes for girls like you, reserved
and poised.  Shall we look for a skirt and blouse for you there
after work today?  Then maybe some shoes?  No clunky shoes, you
have plenty of those. Something more delicate, a mid-heel pump
maybe?"

I tried to say 'no.' Tears came into my eyes.  "Meg, I do
appreciate your thoughtfulness," I told her.  "I really do.  But
...."   My voice trailed off.  My resolve collapsed.  They both
waited.  They knew where I'd end up.

"Yes," I told her.  "I'd love to go shopping with you.  More than
anything."  Now tears began to stream down my cheeks.  I tried to
blot them. "See what you've done?  My mascara's running!"

As I stood up to go to the ladies' and repair myself, there was
Meg, and before I knew it we were hugging, and I was pressing my
wet cheek against hers as she cried too.  "Oh Allie," she said. 
"I've suspected it for so long now.  I just knew that there was a
wonderful girl in you struggling to get out!  Isn't it marvelous
that now she's out!  I know Gayle will be pleased!  She's been
waiting for you to come around, to decide you'd rather be a girl,
to live as a girl!  And you're right, there's no going back from
it, because why in the world should you ever want to?  The girl in
you needs her freedom!" 

I just shook my head, tears still flowing.  I had no idea why I
should ever want to go back either.  It felt so much nicer here,
being a girl with these other girls!  But it felt a little poignant
too.  Some of my tears were for my lost manhood.

I came back to the apartment a little late for supper, wearing a
near ankle-length pencil-pleated skirt, teeny patterns all tan and
straw and burnt umber, with a simple sleeveless slipover blouse
that displayed my breasts and thin arms without emphasizing them,
and a light topper.  Gayle was waiting, a little concerned.  "I'm
sorry I'm late," I explained simply as I hung my new topper in the
front closet.  "I was shopping.  With Meg."  There was nothing more
I needed to say.  She saw.

She looked me over slowly.  My pretty new outfit, and the shy pride
I took in how becoming it was.  She saw that my eye makeup was
nearly gone, for the first time in weeks, and she guessed correctly
that I'd been blotting my tears repeatedly.  

Then she threw herself into my arms, and couldn't keep from kissing
my face everywhere she could reach it.  "Oh, darling, darling
Allie!" she kept saying.  "I'm so happy for you.  I've waited so
long for you to come to this!  And you arrived all by yourself!" 
And as we pressed our cheeks together, I could feel that hers was
as wet as mine.  Just like Meg's!  Why do women cry so easily?  We
both felt so very happy.  That night when we made love, I wore the
exquisite satin nightgown Gayle had bought months earlier during
the first few days of my new voice -- bought, as she had told me
then, "just for you."  It fit perfectly, and felt as exquisite as
it looked.  "Here," she said when she handed it to me.  "I really
did buy this just for you -- you notice I've never worn it?  From
now on you wear only pretty things.  Right?"

I nodded.  "If that's what you want, that's what I want," I said.

"I want," she said, coming toward me.  

It was a whole, wonderful new world of feelings and appearances I
was exploring now.  Thrilling in some ways, not only because it was
new but also because it was somehow a little dangerous. 
"Transgressive" was the word Gayle used when I described my
newfound wicked delight in doing and thinking and wearing girl
things.  She encouraged me to move further into my feelings, to
explore more of them.  I told her about the tweedy man who'd tried
to pick me up the other day, and my twinge of regret that he
hadn't.  We made love that night more gently, more tenderly, than
ever.  "My sweetheart feels the way I do," she crooned.  

Sexual ambivalence began to enter into our sex play.  Gayle told me
she wanted to reinforce some of my very complicated gender
feelings, the gender identity issues I'd discovered when I'd first
talked on the phone as a woman would, then as if I were a woman,
then naturally as a woman, then allowing myself to look like one,
and now choosing to look like one.  "You can be one gender or the
other in your own head, Allie," she said.  "Or one and the other. 
But I don't want you to be confused betwen them, a muddled
effeminate man or a masculine woman who doesn't know what he is or
she is.  Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes, of course, Gayle," I replied.  "When I felt I was a boy, I
had to enact being a girl deliberately.  As a girl, it's fun to
pretend I'm a boy, though that's all I do now, pretend.  I may look
like either or both, but I feel like one or the other, not both. 
It's very strange."

"Which do you feel like right now?" Gayle asked.

"A girl," I said.  "That's how I woke up this morning.  That's how
I want to wake up every morning.  I love it!  I really do!  I hope
you don't mind.  It's so much easier when I'm working with the
women on the phone when I can feel I'm one of them.  I'm much more
effective.  And Meg and Connie now accept me completely as one of
their own kind.  I remember how much fun it was when Connie taught
me how to pick up a man.  Do you mind?"

"No, I don't mind at all, Allie honey," Gayle said.  "I understand
it and like it, that you prefer being one of my kind.  It's a
supreme compliment.  But shouldn't we explore this further?"

"How?"

"Leave that to me!"

That night I made myself as beautiful as I could, at Gayle's
request, and lay back on the bed in my satin nightgown with my
heart beating hard, waiting for Gayle to appear from the bathroom. 
When she did, we just lay there, wanting each other but for the
moment only embracing.  We did that now and then.

The vaguaries of my erotic desires baffled me, and I mentioned it. 
"It's mysterious, yet there's no mystery to it at all," she told me
seriously.  "You desire the feminine.  Me.  You desire to hold me,
possess me, enter me and make me a part of you."  She smiled at
that.  "To share my every feeling, to become one with me.  Isn't
that true?"

I nodded.

"It's no accident.  You desire the feminine in me, and you want to
make that femininity a part of you.  Passionately, as completely as
possible.  Isn't that true?"

"Yes," I said.  It was true.  

"You want to internalize my femininity?  Possess it for yourself?

"Yes, Gayle, I do!"

"That's how you feel when you enter me?"

I nodded.

"The exact same way I feel when I want you to enter me?  When I
want to give myself up to you?"

"Yes.  Yes, if that's how you feel."

"That's how I feel, Allie.  And I want you to feel it too.  To give
yourself up to me, to feel how I feel when you enter me.  Are you
willing?"

"Yes, I am."  I wasn't sure where this was leading, but I was with
her all the way.  It was a breathless exchange -- we were both
excited by something ineffable we were revealing to each other.  

"You do know there's only one way, Allie.  Don't you?"

Was she talking riddles?  Suddenly I saw where we were headed, but
I was caught up in a momentum I couldn't stop.  Nor did I want to. 
I wanted to give myself to my beloved woman.  To feel her possess
me as I took her deep inside me.

"Yes, I know," I said, a little awed at what I had just agreed to.

"I want that too," she told me, pulling me toward her finally and
feeling for my lower parts.  "First you do me.  Then I'll do you"

My cock was hard as a rock.  It slipped into her silkily, with no
friction and barely any pressure, she was already so soaked.  It
was like dipping a spoon into a jar of honey.  "I do want this for
you," she whispered, as her hips began to move against mine.  "I
want you to know that what makes me what I am is being felt deep
inside you too!"  It was the sweetest lovemaking!  We slowly rose
together and surged, then subsided.  And as we recovered our
breaths she said simply, "Now you.  Just lie still, love!"

She slipped out of bed to use the bathroom, as she usually did when
we'd made love, though usually after I'd licked my juices back out
of her and brought her off yet again.  When she reappeared she
showed up in the dimness with a strange silhouette, and I realized
with a thrill of horror and anticipation that she was now wearing
a strap-on dildo.  A long one.  Double-ended, she explained later,
so we could both be pleasured by it at the same time, each of us
penetrated by the same cock, as she put it, each of us sharing in
the pleasures of penetration by that cock.  

"Now you'll know, Allie darling.  How wonderful it feels.  So soft
yet so stiff.  I've made it slick with my own juices, sweetheart,
and yours too, so you too can feel how it is to have a man's cum
inside you.  It will hurt you at first, sweetheart, because manhood
never yields easily.  But soon you'll relax into the pleasure of
it, and feel what I feel.  And that feeling will never leave you,
ever again!   You'll keep it deep inside you always as my gift to
you, Allie.  I'm giving you a gift of femininity,.  Tonight you
become a woman.  And you'll always know that's what you've become.

And she bent over me as I lay on my back, and touched my legs under
my knees so I'd know to raise them onto her shoulders.  Then she
crept forward slowly, and my legs went higher and further back, my
rear hole turning higher toward her, exposed, vulnerable, until I
felt a soft knob pressing on my anus.  She pushed.  Then pushed
again.  She was gentle, but it hurt me anyhow, a lot.  She hugged
me and crooned to me as she pressed herself against me, and then
she was inside, just!  The knob had entered me!  

"Ahhhhhhh!" I said, relieved yet lamenting.

"Shhhhh, baby," she whispered to me.  Her breasts were both hanging
over my face.  She offered one to my open mouth and my lips seized
it greedily.  As she pressed further and further into my rectum I
sucked on her teat, concentrated on it hungrily, tearfully, seeking
consolation, seeking to fill a hunger in my belly I could feel
filled further down by that long penis of hers.  A fulfillment
slowly spreading through my body.  My mouth stuffed full of smooth,
soft breast, my ass filling full of stiff cock. 

There was a strange burning sensation below from the spreading and
stretching of my tight anus as she pushed deeper into me, kissing
away my tears.  "This is how girls lose their virginity," she told
me.  "This is how girls become women.  I know it hurts, baby.  But
there's no other way.  I'm sharing with you my most desireable
gift, my femininity.  I'm making it yours!"  On and on her cock
moved into me.  Finally it was lodged all the way inside.  I was
complete! 

Then she just lay still on top of me, my thighs propped up high on
her shoulders, letting me get accustomed to how it felt, my lower
parts filled to bursting, letting my sphincter slowly relax.  I
suckled her steadily, my mouth full of breast and my tongue pressed
flat against her nipple, tensing and relaxing.  I tried to lift my
rear to change the angle of her penetration, and as she slid a
little further inside me I realized I could grip her cock with my
anal muscles.  I did, like clenching and releasing a fist, and she
felt it.  She smiled.  The original burning sensation was now gone,
leaving instead a feeling of repletion.  There was special pleasure
in knowing that we both felt this way at this moment.  Fulfilled.

Then slowly my lovely lovely Gayle began to rock back and forth,
and I felt a warmth, a glow, a delicious yearning previously
centered in my prick now spreading all through my belly.  Her
rocking grew more extreme, more impassioned, until she was plunging
all the way in and out of me and I was loose and eager and ready
and glowing, thrusting back with all my heart and soul and
strength, joyous desire spreading all through me and rising like
lava toward white-hot eruption.  At last, I can't tell how long
after, the throes of my orgasm seized me.  It filled every part of
my body, even my toes and my fingertips, with a gratified craving
so intense I thought for a moment that I'd fainted!  A moment later
Gayle came too, and collapsed onto me.  And then we fell asleep,
her dildo cock still buried deep inside my new pussy, her breast
still heavy in my mouth, still hugging each other.  I opened my
eyes for a moment and saw she was smiling, as satisfied as I was. 


"My sweet girl," she whispered.

"Yes," I replied.

And we slept through the night like that.  When she withdrew from
me in the early morning, I felt empty.

After that I began to crave that dildo the same way Gayle craved my
cock.  After supper I'd move my hips suggestively just an inch or
so, ever so expectantly, and I'd look intently into her face, and
she'd understand my meaning at once!  And smile.  And I'd feel
desirous and wanted, as I'd never felt as a man!  We enlarged our
regular lovemaking.  Now we were women together.  She used my dildo
nightly for as long as I could get it up, sometimes only once or
twice.  Then when I'd gone soft for the night I used hers, and our
lovemaking went on far into the night.  

Some nights we practiced "lesbianism" in a new way.  We curled into
each other head to crotch, and she sucked on my penis all night
whenever she woke up, and I sucked on hers.  I loved falling asleep
and waking up again with that soft, firm cock in my mouth.  It was
so comforting.  I felt so secure, protected, nursing on it like a
baby.  

end 5/10
VickieTern@AOL.COM

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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