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Message-ID: <33558asstr$1006243804@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
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From: J R D <jrdss@pobox.alaska.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} Biochemistry - The Prequel (TG) [2/6]
Date: Tue, 20 Nov 2001 03:10:04 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Had to get a new email, so I'm reposting my old works under the new 
addy to get it out.

Here's part 2 of the Prequel.

Now, onto the boring stuff

-------------------------

DISCLAIMERS

-------------------------

This story contains scenes of an erotic and/or controversial nature, 
and is not intended for the perusal of minors.  Further if perusal of 
such material is considered illegal in your area or immoral by your 
religion or personal beliefs, you should likewise bypass this story.

This story remains the property of the author.  Permission is granted 
to download, photocopy, copy and repost so long as any such action 
contains these disclaimers, and no attempt is made to profit from 
this story.

All characters in this story are the creation of the author, and any 
resemblance to real persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental.

This story may contain aspects of fantastic science or magic.  The 
parameters of what this science/magic can accomplish are completely 
at the discretion of me, the author, and, as such, I make no 
apologies for any rules of "real" physics, chemistry, biology, or 
magic that may be broken within the story.

-------------------------

Now onto the fun stuff

-------------------------

Sam got up and followed Linda as she went downstairs into the 
sub-floors.  Linda walked into a room that looked like the 
observation rooms on cop shows, the place where cops and witnesses 
could observe criminals without being seen.  Through the observation 
window Sam saw a man strapped into a chair.  The man was dressed in a 
skirt, with no underwear, either panties or boxers, but was naked 
from the waist up.  "What's going on?" he yelled.  "Where am I?"

Sam stared at the man as he ranted.  "Look familiar?" Linda asked.

"Yes, he does, but I can't place where from."

"His name is David McCarrey."

"The serial rapist?!"

"Exactly."

Sam remembered the case.  David McCarrey had been a rapist who had 
been caught and put on trial.  He had been caught red-handed with 
evidence for one rape, and there had been evidence he had committed 
many more.  Unfortunately, a mistake on the search warrant had gotten 
the most substantial evidence thrown out, and he had gone free. 
Then, just a couple days before Sam had gone out on his fateful 
bar-hopping trip, David McCarrey had disappeared altogether.

"Mistress brought him here, pumped him full of a special truth serum 
she had designed, and found out how many rapes he had committed.  And 
it's far more than even the police suspect."

"So now what are you going to do with him?"

"Watch."

Sam watched as a large breasted woman (like Elizabeth, her tits were 
around a J cup size) walked in.  The man became profane, then 
apologetic, then imploring as the woman prepared a syringe of 
something, and injected him in the arm.

After she injected him, the man briefly became profane again before 
he suddenly stopped.  An euphoric look crossed the man's face and he 
sat there as his chest started growing breasts.  He looked down and 
smiled stupidly as his breasts quickly passed Sam's in size.  They 
continued to grow, past Mistress's (and Linda's, who also had D 
cups), till they reached the huge size sported by Elizabeth and the 
woman who drugged him to begin with.  But they didn't stop there. 
They continued growing till they were larger even than his own torso, 
extending past his own knees and arms in length.  Sam wondered how 
big they would get, when they eventually stopped growing.  They were 
as large as...  Well, Sam couldn't think of anything they were as 
large as, but they were so large that the man wouldn't have been able 
to touch his own nipples with his fingertips.  And his nipples were 
now as impossibly large as the rest of his tits, and looked more like 
the teats on a cow's udder than any human nipples.

The woman walked up and unfearfully released the man.  He didn't even 
stand (Sam wondered if he could with his new tits).  He just reached 
up and massaged the sides of his new tits.  He tried to reach his own 
nipples and Sam had been right, he couldn't reach them.  After a few 
seconds, the man looked up at the woman and wailed plaintively.

She looked down at him.  "Are your nipples sore?" she asked.  He just 
nodded and made another plaintive sound.  "Would you like me to do 
something about it?"  The man nodded.  The woman took a scolding 
tone.  "You remember what you did to those ladies?"  The man got a 
sad look in his eyes and lowered his head.  "Remember?!"  The man 
looked up at her and made an agreeing noise.

"Why doesn't he say anything?" Sam asked.

"He can't," Linda explained.  "He's undergone a chemical IQ 
adjustment.  He's literally nothing more than an animal as far as his 
thought processes go.  He remembers everything, he just doesn't have 
the cognitive capabilities to understand it anymore."

Sam gulped as the woman continued.  "Do you realize what you did was 
wrong?"  The man nodded and made his little agreeing noise, but Sam 
could tell he would've agreed if the woman had asked if the sky was 
green and grass was blue.  "Alright, then.  Come with me."  The man 
tried to rise, but couldn't manage it.  He stared at his tits with a 
mystified look in his eyes.  The woman waited patiently until the man 
figured out (and it took him a few minutes to figure it out) that by 
placing his own arms under his tits, and lifting he could manage to 
stand and walk slowly.

Sam finally got a good look at the man.  Unlike Sam the man still 
looked basically male with three exceptions.  The first, and most 
obvious, was, of course, his tits.  The second, was his hips, which 
were now extremely wide.  So wide, in fact, that his skirt was widely 
flared out, and his penis was plainly visible.  The third difference 
was his feet, which were now extremely wide and long.  They must've 
been a size 20 or more.

After the rapist and woman left, Linda said, "Come on."

As Sam walked with Linda, he asked, "Why wasn't he made to look like a woman?"

Linda sneered.  "Why give him the privilege?  He's still David 
McCarrey, the rapist.  And even though he's got the IQ of a cow, part 
of him, every time he looks in a mirror, will see David McCarrey with 
tits bigger than any woman he ever raped."

"But why the change to his hips and feet?  And why the skirt?"

"He wears a skirt as a sign of his emasculation.  Although he can 
experience orgasm, he is no longer capable of erection.  The feet are 
made so much larger to provide extra support for his back.  Those 
tits will eventually destroy his back anyways, but the larger feet 
and the reinforced muscles in his back will help offset when that 
happens."

"And the hips?"

Linda just smiled.  "It's time to find out."

They walked down the hall and into a room.  Inside was a line of 
"men" like McCarrey, a score of big-tittied men with huge hips.  All 
were kneeling down, their breasts resting comfortably in indentations 
in the floor in front of them, and had some kind of machine hooked up 
to their nipples.  At the other end of the room were five women in 
large hoop skirts like the one Linda was wearing sitting around a 
table playing cards.

"What do you think?" Linda asked.

"It looks like a... milking operation."

"Very good."

Sam saw a door open on the other side of the room, and the woman who 
had dosed McCarrey walked in, quickly followed by McCarrey and his 
tits (which were small in comparison to some of the men in the room). 
The woman walked in and pointed at the end of the line.  "Kneel here."

The man carefully knelt down, but fell the last couple feet.  Luckily 
the indentations were padded, and he didn't hurt himself.  One of the 
girls from the table came over and helped get the man to a kneeling 
position.  They then locked the man's wrists and knees down so he 
couldn't move, which Sam found strange since none of the other men 
were locked down.  They hooked him up to the machine, and, when 
nothing else happened, he looked up at her and made that plaintive, 
begging sound.  The woman stroked his head and said, "Don't worry, 
cow #321.  Someone will be along shortly to help you get your milk 
started."  She looked to the woman in the hoop skirt and said, "He's 
all yours," then left.

The woman walked up to the man, released a catch on her skirt and let 
it fall.  Sam was shocked, not by the fact that the woman had no 
petticoats or panties (which Sam was surprised to find himself 
noticing despite everything), but by the HUGE dick which was now 
visible, a dick a horse would've been jealous of.  It was flaccid, 
and yet still hung down almost a foot and a half from her crotch, and 
was so big around Sam didn't think he could get one hand around it.

The woman stepped from the skirt, lifted her dick and waved it in 
front of the man's face.  The man sniffed at it as if he couldn't 
understand what this huge thing in front of him was.  He drew back a 
bit when he recognized the smell of what it was.  He watched her, 
trembling, as she walked behind him.  When she went to her knees and 
started stroking her dick, he seemed to know instinctively what she 
was about to do, and tried to lurch away, but he was held far too 
securely.  When the woman was fully erect (2 1/2' of dick) she placed 
her dickhead at the man's ass and slammed in, amazingly going all the 
way in.

Linda told him, "That's why his ass was made so large.  To 
accommodate the bulls."

Sam watched, shocked, but unable to look away.  The man tried to 
struggle away but couldn't, and his struggles only excited the woman. 
It only took a couple minutes before she was orgasming and spraying 
semen in his ass.  A few seconds after she came the man settled down, 
and stared at his tits.  That same euphoric look he had earlier 
overcame him, as he (and Sam) saw a white substance flowing through 
the tubes attached to his nipples.  The woman started moving again, 
but this time the man, instead of trying to get away, surged 
backwards against her, participating in his own fucking.

As the two of them went at it, another "cow" started mooing (for that 
was how Sam had come to think of the plaintive wailing) and another 
of the girls went behind him, and with no ceremony, lifted her skirt 
(revealing a cock as large as the other girl's), and plunged in. 
Amazingly, the man had lifted his ass, and was participating in his 
own fucking with total abandon.

"Is all this necessary?" he asked.

"Yes, these men are now sperm-to-milk converters.  The bulls pump 
them full of semen, their bodies absorb it, and start producing milk, 
which soothes the soreness in their nipples, and produces a euphoria 
which they quickly become addicted to.  They know they're addicted to 
being sodomized, but they can't help it."

"So why'd you bring me here?"

"For breakfast."

Linda reached into a cabinet and pulled out a bottle.  She took two 
pills from it, handed one to Sam and walked over to the man getting 
his ass reamed.  "This is breakfast?"

"No," she said as she disconnected the tubes from his tits, "these 
are to keep our bodies from absorbing too much fat."  After the tubes 
were disconnected, the man looked at his tits (still dripping milk) 
and whimpered.

"From what?"

"From the breast milk.  Children need much more fat than we do for 
proper nerve and brain development, so breast milk is high in fat." 
She knelt down in front of the man and popped the pill.  "Dig in," 
she said, as she took the man's nipple and started sucking it.

Sam was about to refuse as his stomach started to grumble.  He looked 
around, and finally figuring, "What the hell," sat down, popped the 
pill, took the other tit in hand, and started sucking.  The man cooed 
as Sam and Linda sucked.  Sam found the milk warmer and sweeter then 
any he had found before and sucked until he had his fill.

When Sam pulled off, Linda had already finished, and was waiting. 
She quickly showed him how to disconnect and reconnect the hoses (in 
case he had to attend meals alone).  She went over to talk to one of 
the bulls, and when she came back, she asked, "Why the stares?"

"Stares?"

"You were staring at my skirt."

Sam blushed and dropped his eyes.  "I'm sorry.  It was improper of me."

"You're blushing.  That's so cute.  Yes, it was improper, but let me 
guess, after seeing that I and the bulls wear the same type of skirt, 
you were wondering what size my dick was."  Sam's blush reddened and 
he nodded.  Linda smiled a knowing smile.  "Let's just say that my 
dick size is such that I cannot and never will be able to be a bull."

"Thank you for sharing, milady."  As Sam's blush went away, he asked, 
"What were you and the other bull commenting on?"

"Oh, she just wanted to tell me how cute she thought you were." 
Linda laughed an amused laugh as Sam reddened even worse than before.

***************

LATER THAT EVENING...

Sam stumbled into his room, exhausted.  After returning from the 
salon (and he had to admit, they had done a fabulous job, he was one 
hot babe), he had been put to work in the kitchen till lunch.  And 
Elizabeth had worked him like a dog.  The work itself wasn't that 
bad, but the heat and steam had undone the work that had been done on 
his hair, which upset him worse than the heavy work load.  After 
lunch (another trip to visit the cows) he had been put to work in the 
upstairs housekeeping staff.  There was less of that work, but it was 
a lot more strenuous than the kitchen work.  By the time he was 
finished, he had felt like he had personally cleaned the entire 
upstairs.  Worse yet, he had worked the entire day in heels and that 
tight, red dress.  And, he remembered, he still had yet to wash it 
for tomorrow.  After work, he had had a light dinner (Sam was 
surprised and disappointed when it wasn't another trip to the cows) 
and come up here.

He reached behind him to try to get to the zipper, when he heard 
Mistress say, "Don't do that, yet."

He spun around.  "Mistress?"

"Your duties aren't finished."

Sam whimpered a bit and said, "Yes, Mistress."

"Relax.  Lady Elizabeth sometimes has trouble getting to bed.  You're 
to go in and help relax her."

With trepidation, Sam asked, "How?"

"However she wants.  Now go on, her room is down the hall, third door 
on the right."

Sam deflated a bit, but said, "Yes, ma'am."

As he walked through the door, Mistress said, "Samuel."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I've received nothing but glowing reports about you.  You'll be 
entitled to panties and a maid's uniform tomorrow."

Sam curtsied.  He said, "Thank you, ma'am," and ran down the hall. 
He was in front of the door to Lady Elizabeth's room, about to knock, 
when he thought to himself, "Did I just curtsy?"

He shook his head and knocked on the door.  He heard Elizabeth's 
voice inside.  "Enter."

Sam opened the door and stepped inside.  "Mistress sent me."

Elizabeth was shaking her hair out.  Out of the bun, her hair fell to 
her shoulders, and made her even more beautiful then she was in the 
kitchen.  "Come on in, dearie."  She looked in the mirror she was 
sitting in front of and sighed.  "I love the kitchen but it sure does 
play havoc with my hair."  She handed a brush back over her shoulder. 
"Brush me out, dearie."

Sam took the brush and started to brush out her hair.  "Oh, that's 
nice.  One of the benefits of being a woman is having someone brush 
out your hair."

In a somewhat melancholy voice, Sam said, "I wouldn't know."

Elizabeth suddenly grabbed his hand.  "Now where did...  Oh, I forgot 
you were so new."  She patted her lap.  "Sit down and let big sister 
talk to you."  Sam looked down, afraid to take her up on the offer. 
She just patted her lap again and said, "Come on."

Sam took a chance and sat down on her lap.  She wrapped one arm 
around Sam to support him, and took his far hand in hers.  "Samuel, 
it is still Samuel, you haven't changed it?"  Sam shook his head. 
"Samuel, your big sister, when it comes to her job as head of the 
kitchen, gets a little..."

"Determined?"

Elizabeth laughed a light-hearted laugh that put Sam at ease. 
"Thanks for trying to be polite, but I was looking for a stronger 
version of the word obsessed.  I don't mean anything by it.  And I 
really am sorry I slapped you earlier."  She kissed Sam on the cheek 
where she had slapped him earlier, a kiss that had no sexual content, 
and made Sam feel like he was back on the farm being kissed by his 
big sister.  "Forgive your big sister?"

Sam smiled and said, "I guess so."

"Good.  Now why don't you finish brushing out my hair, and I'll do 
the same for you."  Sam took the hairbrush and brushed out her hair. 
After he was finished, Elizabeth sat him down and brushed out his 
hair.  "You have such pretty hair.  I love the raven black color.  I 
can't wait till it grows longer.  You'll only be allowed to keep it 
this short if you're permanently posted to the kitchen."

"Well, to be honest, I don't intend to be here so long that it 
becomes an issue."

Elizabeth gave him a quizzical look.  "How long do you think you'll 
be staying?"

"The three month minimum.  I'm going to be a good and dutiful young 
lady for the duration, then return to being a man."

"And how long do you expect your hair to grow in that time?"

"Maybe a couple inches."

Elizabeth bent down and whispered in his ear, "Take a good look, hun. 
It's already that much longer."

Sam stared at himself in the mirror.  She was right!  His hair was 
longer!  "How?"

"Side effect of the transformation drug.  For the next couple weeks, 
your hair will grow at a rate of about 2 inches a day.  We all went 
through it.  Don't worry, if and when you return to manhood, Mistress 
pays for the haircut."

Sam just stared at himself for a while then asked, "Lady Elizabeth?"

"Yes?"

"May I ask...  What is your story?  How did you decide to become Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth stopped and seemed to consider it for a while.  Finally, 
she said, "I was a cook.  And if you think I'm bad now, I was an 
unholy terror as a man.  And despite being very good at my job, that 
attitude kept getting me fired from job after job.

"Well, at one point, I had been out of a job for three months and had 
pretty much given up.  I was sitting at home drinking, and wasting my 
wife's income on pay per view adult movies.  I had a particular 
passion for those that featured those huge, big breasted porno stars.

"My wife came home, and exploded at me.  We got into a big fight and 
I...  I..."

Sam looked up and saw her eyes tearing up.  Sam took her hand and 
said, "If you don't want to say, it's okay."

"No.  I started this.  I can get through it."  Then taking the time 
to state every word individually, she said, "I. raped. my. wife."

"Oh, my."

"Yeah, well I woke up the next day, and she was gone.  And, in that 
way drunks have of justifying anything they do, I blew her off, 
figuring she had decided to leave me.  Later that night, she came 
back, acting as though nothing had happened.  I didn't even have the 
guts to apologize.  She mixed me up a drink, and not even thinking 
anything about it, I drank it.  Next thing I knew I had a pair of A 
cup tits on my chest, a small waist, a high voice, and my wife 
telling me that if I ever wanted to be back to normal, I'd best obey 
her."

"Been there, done that," Sam said lightly.

Elizabeth laughed.  "Yes, but my formula had an extra component.  If 
my blood alcohol ever passed .05 percent, half the legal limit at the 
time, the formula would burn up the alcohol for fuel to cause my 
breasts to grow a cup size.  It was now impossible for me to get 
drunk, but it was possible for me to drink my way to gargantuan tits. 
Of course, my wife didn't warn me about this, went out shopping for 
me, and, by the time she got back, I had managed to drink my way up 
to a D cup.

"She was upset.  During my layoff, I had managed to go through most 
of our savings on pure waste, and she barely had been able to afford 
the first shopping trip.  So we moved in with Mistress Elaine.  I was 
posted to the kitchen, and it was during those first couple weeks 
that I discovered that I was an alcoholic.  As much as I wanted to, I 
couldn't stop drinking, and every three days or so, I'd go on a small 
bender and grow a cup size larger.  I was all the way up to a G cup, 
before I went behind my wife's back and asked Mistress to change the 
formula so that not only would I grow tits, but the growth would be 
incredibly painful.

"You see, I can't stand pain.  And my wife knew it.  She didn't want 
me in pain, just punished for what I had done to her.  Well with the 
extra incentive, I soon had my drinking under control.  And I served 
the rest of my three months stone cold sober."

"So why'd you decide to become Elizabeth?  Why not go back to being a guy?"

"Well, I told you I was worse in the kitchen as a guy then as a girl. 
And as long as there was the prospect of going back it was like there 
was this dark specter that was my old masculinity looming over me. 
The closer I got to that three month date, the more depressed I got. 
The night before I was scheduled to return, my wife took me out on 
the town in an effort to cheer me up.  Just us two lesbian lovers 
going out to dinner.  Well, after dinner I told her that I had 
something to say, and she said the same.  So in an effort to get it 
out first we both blurted out at the same time that we wanted me not 
to go back.  We laughed and had a happy night.  The next day we made 
it permanent and I've had a great life ever since."

"What happened to your wife?"

"Oh, she's just out of town on a business trip.  We live here together."

"Oh."

Suddenly the phone rang.  Elizabeth ran over and got it.  "Susie! 
How's the trip, going?  Uh, huh.  Just like clockwork.  It's been 
terrible sleeping here without you.  A new girl, you haven't met her 
yet.  The name is Samuel.  Yes, a real looker.  Okay."  She looked to 
Sam.  "She wants to talk to you."

As Sam took the phone, Elizabeth whispered to him, "She is Lady Susan to you."

Sam nodded and said, "Hello, Lady Susan."

"Hello, hun, is Lizzie being nice to you?"

"Lady Elizabeth is being quite kind to me now."

"Now?  As in you worked in the kitchen earlier, right?"

"Uhm, yeah."

Susan laughed.  "Don't worry, hun, if she rode you too hard.  She's 
like that with everyone.  But she's a real teddy bear in the sack. 
Will you be staying the night?"

"If she wants."

"Look, she'll be too shy to ask," which Sam found hard to believe, 
"so do me a favor and stay the night with her?"

"Uhm, okay."

"And if you two get... exceptionally friendly tonight, you have my 
permission to do anything but fuck her ass.  That piece of meat is 
for me and my dildo."  Sam could feel himself turning bright red. 
"Could you put Lizzie back on?"

"Sure."

Sam handed the phone back to Elizabeth who said, "Hi, hun, I'm back." 
After a few seconds, she was blushing furiously.  "Huuuun.  No, I 
don't think I will.  I don't think he's ready for that.  First day. 
You may be wrong.  Okay, see ya when you get back."  Elizabeth hung 
up the phone.

"What was that last bit about?"

"Oh, nothing.  Help me out of these clothes and into a bath."

Sam helped her out of her dress.  Sam was amazed to find that she was 
wearing a corset that was so stiff and tight that his own must've 
felt roomy in comparison.  "Does Mistress require a corset for 
everyone?"

"Oh, no.  Once figure training is finished, it's optional.  But I 
need the extra support for my tits."

"Should I take it off now?"

"First draw the bath.  Then I'll need help out of it."

"Yes, ma'...," Elizabeth gave Sam a stern look as he started to say 
ma'am, "milady."

Elizabeth smiled.  "Go on, now.  I like my bath water as hot as you 
can stand it."

Sam bowed and went into the bathroom.  He turned the water up as hot 
as he could stand and filled the tub.  After it was finished, he 
called to Elizabeth.  She walked in, touched her hand to the water 
and said, "Perfect."

"Shall I help you out of your corset now?"

"First, let's get you out of yours."

Sam balked.  "Uh, miss, I..."

She took his hand.  "Sam, relax, I'm not going to do anything you 
don't want.  At least not sexually.  But I enjoy someone being with 
me in the water.  And if you're going to be there, you don't want to 
get your dress and corset soaked, a particularly bad idea with the 
leather in the corset."

"But I..."

"Sam, if I have to, I will order you to remove your clothes.  I'd 
prefer this to be your choice, but I will have you naked with me in 
the tub."

"I don't know..."

Elizabeth crossed her heart.  "I promise, I won't even cop a feel of 
your tits."

"Okay," Sam said as he turned around so Elizabeth could undo the 
zipper on his dress.  He felt relieved at Elizabeth's promise, but, 
strangely, also disappointed.  Wasn't he pretty enough?  Didn't he 
have a good body?  He was shocked, but also a little pleased, when 
she grabbed his ass as she pulled the dress down over it.

Playfully, Elizabeth said, "Never promised not to cop a feel there." 
Sam realized she was playing and returned her guileless smile.  She 
helped him out of his corset and stockings, then he helped her out of 
hers.  As Sam helped remove her panties, part of him was pleased to 
note that her dick (and even confronted by this evidence of her once 
masculinity, he was unable to think of her as a man) was slightly 
smaller than his own.

Sam got into the tub first then helped her in.  They scrubbed each 
other and played a bit, but finally Sam noticed his hand drifting 
towards Elizabeth's tit.  He stopped himself and asked, "May I? 
Touch it I mean?"

Elizabeth gave him a serious look.  "Sam, there's a rule here in 
regards to sex.  A rule that applies to newbies like yourself as well 
as to me.  That rule is share and share alike.  If you give pleasure, 
you have a right to expect pleasure.  And if you take pleasure from 
another, they have a right to expect an equal amount of pleasure from 
you.  Now, if you really want, you can stroke my tits, but I get 
pleasure from feeling up tits just like you do.  And if you do stroke 
me, that is an automatic granting of permission for me to do the same 
to you.  And I assure you, if you grant that permission, I will take 
advantage of it."

Sam thought about it.  Did he really want to give permission to this 
woman, to any woman, to touch him in that way?  Not that he wasn't 
curious as to how it felt, but he knew that if he let it happen, it 
would be admitting to... something; he still wasn't sure of what that 
something was, but something.
-- 
"This is reality, not T.V.  Can't you tell the difference?"
"Sure.  I just like T.V. better."

J R D
jrdss@pobox.alaska.net

-- 
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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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