From alt.sex.stories.tg Wed Apr 10 13:16:27 1996
Path: fu-berlin.de!zib-berlin.de!Germany.EU.net!EU.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!newsfeeder.servtech.com!murphy2.servtech.com!news
From: Fixer@servtech.com (Mike Allegretto)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.tg
Subject: TG post "Trading Places:not the same as the other 1+meg TP story"
Date: Sun, 31 Mar 1996 18:10:09 GMT
Organization: ServiceTech, Inc.
Lines: 3792
Message-ID: <315eca30.3539009@news.servtech.com>
NNTP-Posting-Host: hal.ceh.servtech.com
X-Newsreader: Forte Agent .99d/32.168

                    Introduction

     Welcome to my second effort at a 'published' story.  My
first effort "DOLL1" (available on finer gender boards
everywhere) was the victim of over editing (I didn't want to
offend anyone) was what I finally uploaded was truly a frail copy
of what I have on my word processor.  Doll 2 thur 5 were never
uploaded for a large number of reasons, I still didn't want to
offend and it was written just after I discovered cut and paste. 
Still, here is my third fantasy story (number 2 is still in the
works at 215,000 bytes and growing).  If you enjoy this, hate
this, or just want to chat please leave me a note on either
Carolyn's Closet or Tri-Ess.  
                              Hugs and Kisses
                                   Desiree 


                    TRADING PLACES - Part 1

                     By Ms. Desiree Foster


     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 Ridgechrest, 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 Porche, 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 Eldarado 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 anything 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 Porche 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 mini-skirt 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 thur 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 hardon.  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 suddenly, 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 thur 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 shemales 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 Cartland 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 delapadory 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 indistinguishable from skin.  You can even sweat thur
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 lipo-suction and lipo-injection 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 hypodermic 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.  



What's Monica/Mark up to?  What will happen to our hero?  Write
with your fantasy outfits for 'Monica' and 'Jessica' and I'll try
to work them into the story.  

                      TO BE CONTINUED ( of course )
******************************
This file came from
Sierra Connection BBS
Serving the Gender Community from Nevada
702-825-4220 8-N-1 28.8 VF (4 Nodes)

Home of the Fiction Story Writing Contest
Home of the Gif Beauty Contest
RIKKI2.TXT


                    TRADING PLACES - Part 2

                     By Ms. Desiree Foster

     Welcome back and special hugs to those who wrote.  As we
rejoin Richard / Rikki in his / her only slightly unwilling road
to she-male hood, I still hope to hear from any readers with
fantasy outfits or situations that you would like to see Rikki
in.  


     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 Jeffery Damler and Hannibal Lector began to
race thur 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 she-male 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; "Chri-
stina!?"  "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 she-male
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 answered; "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 thousand 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 rein-
forced 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 seductively 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 impres-
sion, 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 preten-
ding 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 referred 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 beautiful, vulnerable woman dressed for seduc-
tion.  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 need her cock sucked by her new girlfriend. 
Come on Jessica, your my cocksucking pretty bitch from now on. 
Your going to do what ever 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 she-male 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 she-male 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.  Toungeing 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 she-male
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 lingerie, 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 she-male 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 pluseing 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 Porsch 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 pack-
age.  Inside were four cassette tapes titled 'MAIDEN SONGS' 1
thur 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 studying 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 your-
self, 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 lipstick 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 Roledex 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 auto-pilot 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. 
     
     Whatever (as if we didn't know) are these 'Maiden Song'
Tapes and why (as if, again, we didn't know) is Richard's chest
sore.  What changes are in store for our evolving hero(ine). 
Will he spend this long weekend as 'Jessica' or does Mark have
other plans for 'Rikki'.
     P.S.  I still believe that I am the only CD'ing D&D player
in Atlanta, am I?
                              Hugs, Desiree


******************************
This file came from
Sierra Connection BBS
Serving the Gender Community from Nevada
702-825-4220 8-N-1 28.8 VF (4 Nodes)

Home of the Fiction Story Writing Contest
Home of the Gif Beauty Contest
RIKKI3.TXT

     Welcome back to the saga of our slightly unwilling boy to
she-male.  Thanks to those who wrote with such kind words and we
hope that this part is as enjoyable.


                    TRADING PLACES - Part 3

                     By Ms. Desiree Foster


     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 pleasure) 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 ex-
citement to a trip hammer trying to break out of my chest.  I
knocked my glass into the tub in my haste to turn and terrified
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 Marrisa,
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.  "Marrisa?!  Oh darling, your 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. 
Marrisa 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, Marrisa's hand guided mine to her waiting ex-
citement.  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 ex-
citement, Marrisa shifted her had 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 titty flesh were perfect and real.  'That
right Rikki'; my she-male lover moaned, "play with my tittys, 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 sub-conscious 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, Marrisa 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, bimbo hood and sex
were forever joined.  Still milking my passion from my endless
jetting boy-meat, Marrisa 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 en-
gorged head she commanded; 'Jerk me off Baby, milk my shaft, get
my milk Rikki."  I redoubled my efforts, my right hand stoking
her ivory velvet shaft, my left cupping and squeezing her heavy
cum filled balls.  "Please Marrisa 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 Marrisa 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 un-
believable 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 Marrisa'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 Marrisa 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 Marrisa 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 Marrisa 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 attention, 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; "Marrisa 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, Marrisa 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, Marrisa, 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 Marrisa's
eyes; "But Marrisa' 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.  Marrisa 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
Marrisa 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
Marrisa 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 Marrisa.  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.  Marrisa 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 discovered
masturbation.  Now in front of me was one of my very favorites
fantasies come to stunning life.  While I'd slept, Marrisa 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.  Marrisa 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 Marrisa 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, Marrisa let me have a long look at
her tight sexy ensemble.  Moving back over to the bed, Marrisa
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 Marrisa 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
she-male 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/Marrisa'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 Marrisa'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 tited, red haired she-
male who lay naked on the gleaming pink satin sheet.  Over and
over the stunning, living Barbie Doll's insatiable 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 thur my
entire body.  Marrisa 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, Marrisa 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 Marrisa, 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, Marrisa 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
overdressed 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.  T
unfolded it and read "To my darling, our secrets are so wonder-
ful."  I opened the box and found a gaff exactly like the one
Marrisa wore under her leggings.  I needed help getting it on for
the first time, but after some fumbling and giggling , my wonder-
ful 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 unin-
tended) 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 breathtaking (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 Marrisa 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 Marrisa 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 disap-
peared.  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 upcoming
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 Marrisa 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 Marrisa 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 ex-
citing.  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 Marrisa'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
Marrisa 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.  Marrisa 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 Marrisa 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."  Marrisa'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.  Marrisa's voice was soft and tender; "Your stunning
Jessica."  The chiming of the door bell cut her off, our dates
were here!

     What adventures lay (pun intended) ahead for our sweet
boy/girl.  What is Jessica/Rikki/Richard's date like, how will
her horizons expand.  What does Marrisa/Mark really have in mind
for our young lady.  As always, if you liked it, have a fantasy
outfit that Rikki would look good in (she doesn't have to like
it, just look good in it), or even if you hated it, please write. 
Stay tuned to this TV channel.

                         Love and Hugs
                              Desiree

******************************
This file came from
Sierra Connection BBS
Serving the Gender Community from Nevada
702-825-4220 8-N-1 28.8 VF (4 Nodes)

Home of the Fiction Story Writing Contest
Home of the Gif Beauty Contest
   
RIKKI4.TXT


     Welcome back!  I hope you have enjoyed parts 1-3 and will
enjoy part four just as much.  Sorry this chapter is so short but
school has demanded a little more time then I expected

                    TRADING PLACES - Part 4

                     By Ms. Desiree Foster


     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
Marrisa 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 Marrisa 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 Marrisa, 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 Marrisa's arm.  "Marrisa, 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. 
Marrisa 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 Marrisa to be
disappointed in me.  I put on my most dazzling smile and looking
deep in my darling's sparkling eyes.  "I sorry Marrisa, I guess
that everything has just happened so fast."  Marrisa gave me a
loving squeeze and we went to the door.  Marrisa 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 thur 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.  Marrisa was right, being a
beautiful woman sure beat being a nothing boy.  Marrisa 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 thur 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 Malaibu.  Marrisa 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..." Marrisa 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
Marrisa 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 Marrisa was
skillfully guiding the conversation to where I couldn't help but
join in.  Suddenly 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, Marrisa and I returned to bedroom for our wraps
and purses.  It was then that found just how well Marrisa 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 Marrisa and gasped "How did you get
these?"  Marrisa 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 power-
ful 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.  Marrisa 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, Marrisa 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. Sudden-
ly 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 perfectly 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 rever-
sing 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 Marrisa's she-male meat
while Eric's huge man-cock fucked my ass so very full, filled me,
used me.  The thought of Marrisa'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 Marrisa'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
squesy 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 re-zipped 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, especially 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, Monica'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
Marrisa 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 Richard's voice, so wishy-washy and male.  "Rikki darling?" 
Marrisa sounded wonderful.  I let my voice climb an octave, and
marveled at how much better I sounded. "Marrisa 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 happened!"  I paused, slightly out
of breath.  "I can guess sweetheart;" Marrisa 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 Marrisa'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."  Marrisa
laughed at my unintentional 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 Marrisa 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."  Marrisa 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
Marrisa, 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 carefully
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.


     Well Rikki has discovered men!  What new adventure's await
our boy-girl.  Marrisa/Mark seems not to be the possessive type. 
Was Rikki sincere in saying that she has a dream of bimbo-hood,
Will Eric turn out to be a one night stand or will he (or should
he) be back.  If you've made it this far, I'm going to assume (a
dangerous thing) that you, darling readers have liked it thus
far.  This episode took forever due to the demands of school (a
42 year old undergrad is almost an oxymoron).  Part 5 of 3 (no
mistake, god am I a wordy slut) is in the works and my 225,000
byte S&M, B&D, forced TV, sexchange, SiFi, guaranteed to offend
everyone, short story is being rewritten for the 93d time.  To
all of you who have written, thank you and all my hugs and
kisses.
                     Love;
                         Desiree Foster

******************************
This file came from
Sierra Connection BBS
Serving the Gender Community from Nevada
702-825-4220 8-N-1 28.8 VF (4 Nodes)

Home of the Fiction Story Writing Contest
Home of the Gif Beauty Contest
RIKKI5.TXT

     Welcome back as Richard/Rikki continues down her slippery
slope to she-male hood.  Will someone show up to save Rikki from
this terrible (smirk) fate! I hope you have enjoyed parts 1-4 and
will enjoy part five just as much as I've enjoyed doing them.

                    TRADING PLACES - Part 5

                     By Ms. Desiree Foster


     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.  Marrisa 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
Marrisa, your right, I'm such a ditz. (Ditz? What do I mean by
that?  But Marrisa'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."  Marrisa 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 Marrisa 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?" 
Marrisa 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 dar-
ling, I guess I am."  "Tell me what you are, well Rikki."  I was
blushing wildly as I answered; "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
Marrisa 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 Marrisa take just the tip of my clitty-
cock between her satin soft lips, and I moan out my need; "Please
Marrisa, please, I'll be a good girl from now, please Marrisa." 
Marrisa's hand was cupping my balls, squeezing tighter and
tighter, my hands were making fluttering gestures, she was
hurting my boy-balls so good.    Marrisa 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 Marrisa's semi-hard penis above my
waiting lips.  I hungerly arched my neck to take her in my mouth,
the feel of her satin cock head touching my lips so wonderful
that if Marrisa hadn't clamped down hard on my balls I would have
came right that second.  My arms were pinned to my sides by
Marrisa'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, Marrisa's crushing grip on my balls relaxed and
slowly her tongue began to trace a tiny circle around my cock
head.  Marrisa's now fully erect cock filled my mouth I lay still
under her.  Marrisa began to pump her hips, slowly at first but
then with greater and greater force.  Marrisa 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. 
Marrisa's lips were gentle but unmoving on my shaft as her tongue
expertly teased me to the brink of orgasm over, her soft hands
kneading my now overfull boy-balls.  Faster and deeper Marrisa
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 Marrisa'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.
     Marrisa 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 softing penis in my
mouth.  As I loving licked my lover clean, I felt her lips leave
my cock.  Marrisa 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, Marrisa 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
Marrisa to strip.  When I started to object (I really wanted to
put my beautiful dress, the one Eric had fucked me in), Marrisa
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, Marrisa
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
Marrisa 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 stemed red roses,
with a note addressed to Jessica.  Marrisa said that I could read
the note after I got dressed.  As I reached for the second box,
Marrisa 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 Marrisa 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.  Marrisa handed me my gaff and as I
forced my clitty cock into the restrictive latex Marrisa 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 Marrisa instead
to gum solvent and removed first my wig then the wonderfully life
like synthetic breasts that gave me such a magnificent 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).  Marrisa produced a tape measure and wrapped
it first over my nipples then under my ever so slightly budding
breasts.  She pronounced; "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."; Marrisa 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 Marrisa 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 under-
things.  Marrisa 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.  Marrisa 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.  Marrisa 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. 
Marrisa 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 cheekbones, 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.  (ID1) 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...." Marrisa
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 Marrisa 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 Marrisa. 
With no further explanation Marrisa opened the closet.  My heart
leap with joy.  The far wall of the walkin 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 Marrisa, thank
you...But Marrisa?" "Yes Rikki?"; "How can I hide all this?" 
Marrisa 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 slightest 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 Seko 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 attractive 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 Marrisa'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 per-
sona.  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.).  Marrisa encouraged me to keep as many of
Jessica's habits and manners.  If I heard it once that afternoon,
I heard it a hundred time, "Just do what Jessica would do."
     Suddenly it was 7 P.M. and Marrisa 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 Marrisa 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 everything 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, glit-
tering 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 production 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 ener-
getically, 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 hap-
pened 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 reflec-
tion 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.


     Well, whatever do you make of this!  Marrisa seem to have a
new identity all ready for Richard / Rikki.  And such a strange
mix of dom / sub emotions seem to be flooding our budding
shemale.  And like the crew of the Enterprise, Rikki never seems
to eat or go pottie (yes, I did notice, all by myself), but given
the chance of being transformed, I'd give up eating, wouldn't
you?  What new adventures await in part 6?

******************************
This file came from
Sierra Connection BBS
Serving the Gender Community from Nevada
702-825-4220 8-N-1 28.8 VF (4 Nodes)

Home of the Fiction Story Writing Contest
Home of the Gif Beauty Contest
RIKKI6.TXT


TRADING PLACES - Part 6

                     By Ms. Desiree Foster


     My orgasam left me feeling lightheaded, the dildo, still
vibrating wildly, deep in my ass.  As the pleasure slow subsided
I realized that I was starving.  A quick trip to the bathroom got
my gaff cleaned up and the vibrator turned off.  As I slowly
removed the artifical cock I had an insperation.  A quick trip to
Mommie's bathroom yelded a tampon which replaced the giantic
rubber cock and made my ass feel so nice.  I returned to the
living room and finished my drink, now sadly watered from the
melted ice.  Dinner, sigh, what to do?  Somehow the idea of a
Dommino's pizza just didn't feel right any more.  I washed my
highball glass and returned to the family room.  The tape was
over, so I removed it, and switched on CNN headline News. (why
not MTV, NO!  Rikki doesn't watch that simpleminded rot.)  After
going around the world in thirty minuits, I fixed my lipstick
again, powdered my nose, took the money from Richard wallet,
checked my purse, and called a taxi.  As I waited for the taxi, I
suddenly remembered Eric's note with the flowers.  Walking back
to the bedroom (god, my tampon made my ass feel good, all secret
and full.)  Opening the roses first, I realized that I needed a
vase, so another long walk to first the family room, then the
kitchen for water. (Giggle, I could have taken a beautiful vase
from the guest bedroom, but I just loved the sound of my heels on
the kitchen floor.)  I carefully arranged the lovly roses and sat
them next to my bed.  Just looking at them made me feel so warm
and loved.  The scent brought back to me the wonderful memories
of Eric's capable hands and there gentle strength as thay
carressed me.  I opened the embossed envelope and removed the
card.  Almost afraid to read it, I let my eyes fall to the
persise script of the handwritten note. 

     Dearest Rikki

          Words can't express the joy you've brought me.
     Your a wonder.  I have taken the liberty of making 
     arrangements for dinner and the opera on the 17th of
     next month, please do me the honor of your marvelous
     company.
          My card includes my voice mail number,I hope your
      answer will be 'yes'.
               More then just your friend, yours;
                              Eric

     My hearts pounding slowed. I carefully place the card in my
purse and went to mommies's room for a pair of gloves and a wrap. 
I selected a black mink stole from her closet and a pair of black
leather bracelet length gloves.  To help conceal my nasty boy's
adam's apple was Mommies's triple strand pearl choker.  The
pearls made my suit a little dresser, like the office look
dressed up for evening.  I was just finished going back to the
living room for my purse when the sound of the taxi's horn made
me jump.  A quick check, shit no key, an almost disaster avoided,
leave the light on, set the alarm, and out, the sound of the door
shutting behind me furnished an exclamation mark to the click of
my high heels. 
     I walked (confidently I hoped) to the taxi, opened the rear
passengers side door and slid in.  The driver, who looked
Pakistani or Indian, asked "And where to Ma'am".  I loved it! 
"Steak and Ale next to Northridge Mall."  Yes Ma'am."  He put the
meter down and Rikki was off for the first time on her one.  And
why not I reflected I was suddenly a free female and 23 years
old.  I didn't miss my lost teen years at all.  As we rode, I
noticed Mastercard and Visa stickers, I didn't know taxi's took
credit cards, but then I'd never paid for a taxi before.  Well no
sense in a credit card for a taxi ride (also I was afraid that
the cards would turn out to be no good, I'm such a ditz
sometimes.)  The ride took twenty minuets and I handed the driver
the extra twenty Mommies had left me for a movie. Since the fare
came to 15.20 I found myself saying "Keep the change."  Before
Achmed the taxi driver (I couldn't pronounce the name on the
license), could reply, I opened the cab door and found myself
walking up to the restaurant's wide front door.  I let the mink
stole slip off my shoulders as I walked in.  The waiting room was
crowded.  I could feel my pulse racing as I entered.  The desire
to turn and run back out was almost overwhelming.  The it was
like my darling Marrisa was whispering in my ear, "Your Rikki and
your lovely, your a pretty young woman and everyone will accept
you as just that."  My pulse was still racing but I put on my
pretty Yuppie smile and walked in.  
     "Welcome to Steak and Ale, how many for dinner tonight
Miss."  The hostess smiled at me, and I found myself smiling
back, "Just one tonight. Smoking please."  She looked up at me,
her pen poised on her pad.  "R. St. James."  It sounded wonderful
to say that.  "It will be about 45 minuets wait, would you like
to wait in the lounge Ms. St.James?"  "Yes, thank you."  I
decided that if this delicious creature in the pretty hostess
ensemble, the long black skirt and Victorian blouse, bought Rikki
St. James then I hoped so would every one else. 
     As I entered the lounge I looked in vain for an out of the
way seat.  Damn, damn, damn!  The only seat open was at the bar,
right next to the waitress station.  Well if I'm going to sit
down, I might as well sit down in the only well lit spot in the
whole damn lounge and draw just as much attention to myself as
humanly possible.  As I made my way to that awful, hateful stool
(it was grinning as I approached), I caught myself desperately
looking for a empty table, any place but under that double dammed
arc light (well it seemed like an arc light to me, and this
situation did have a little stress built in, and unlike last
night, I didn't have Marrisa's moral support or Jessica's animal
body going for me.)  I'd just about made it when I felt a hand on
my arm.  My body went ridged and I almost pee'ed my panties! 
(another draw back of that dammed gaff. Going pee pee, pottie
pottie was the pits.)  A soft woman's voice spoke softly from
right behind me. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you my
dear, I was, I mean I saw you looking for either someone or some
place to sit.  If your alone, I was wondering if you'd perhaps
you'd care to join me?  As she spoke I turned and found myself
facing a lovely older woman, perhaps, 45 years old.  She was
dressed in a perfectly tailored gray wool suit with a cream silk
man tailored blouse that set of her voluptuous, mature body
perfectly.  Her lustrous jet black hair was a done up in a rather
severe upswept style.  Her jewelry was a simple pair of pearl
studs and a single strand of perfect pearls around her throat. 
Her makeup was tasteful and just a little understated.  All in
all she looked like what she obviously was, a very successful
business woman.  I smiled and tried to think of what to say, when
suddenly I found myself blurting out, "Yes thank you, I was
afraid that I end up sitting at the bar."  She smiled in return,
"I know exactly what you mean. Why is it that if you sit at the
bar, every male in the bar feels that the only reason your there
is so they can try to pick up."  As she spoke she gently steered
me the three steps to her table.  Once we sat down, the cocktail
waitress appeared and I ordered a gin and tonic.  I opened my
purse as I ordered, as I was sure that the waitress would card
me, but she just smiled and turned towards the bar.  To cover up
I took my cigarette case out and asked "Do you mind if I smoke?" 
She rewarded me with a smile; "How delicious, a young woman who
smokes, orders gin and has the nerve to wear mink.  Your
refreshingly non politically correct.  No, my dear, I don't mind. 
My name is Madaline."  As she introduced herself, she held out
her hand and I took it in what I hoped was a totally feminine
handshake.  "I'm Rikki."  "Tell me Rikki what is a lovely young
thing like you doing here alone on a saturday night?"  
     We fell to talking and after another round of drinks,
Madaline invited me to join her for dinner.  It was wonderful,
she accepted me totally.  She put me completely at ease, and I
found her a charming person.  She was a vice president in charge
of credit for a nationally known bank and worked 12 to 15 hours a
day 6 days a week.  She was divorced and lived with her sixteen
year old daughter.  I ended up telling her Rikki's life story and
I added a few details that weren't in the bio.  I also gave
myself a job, self employed as a management consultant (well it
sounded good).  After dinner, over coffee, sherry and cigarettes
(She smoked to, she said it helped her stay sane.), Madaline
asked me if I was driving home, as I'd had cocktails, wine with
dinner and two sherries.  I told her that I'd come by cab and was
going home the same way, three inch heels aren't for hiking. 
Madaline offered to give me a lift, and I accepted.  On the way
out Madaline retrieved her coat, a beautiful ankle length mink
and we went out to the parking lot.  Her car was a top of the
line Mercedees and I was suitable impressed.  As I entered the
car I was overcome by the rich leather smell.  Once out of the
parking lot, Madaline asked if I'd mind if she swung by her house
first.  I said that no of course I wouldn't mind.  She live in
the Chatsworth hills on a huge lot and her house was set back off
the street, the last house, only house, on a cul-de-sac.  After
she beeped the security gate open and disarmed the alarm,
Madaline asked if I'd like to see the house.  I agreed and we
went in.  Her house was like her, tasteful, elegant, understated
and very, very reserved.
     After what she call the two dollar tour, Madaline offered me
a glass of wine and as we sat and talked she told me that she had
approached me in the resturant because I reminded her of her last
roommate, a woman who had worked for her as an assistant.  I
asked if her what had happened.  Madaline looked very sad for a
second; "She died in an auto accident."  "I'm so sorry."  I felt
like a fool for having asked.  "That's quite alright, I'm over
it.  She didn't have any family and she became almost like one of
the family.  Melinda, my daugter, took it far harder then I did. 
Melinda is such a high strung girl who requires disipline and my
assistant turned out to be exactly what both she and I needed." 
As she spoke of Melinda, she showed me a picture of her daughter. 
The resemblence was striking.  At 16 her daughter already had her
mother full, completly female body and, like her mother had long
black hair.  As I looked at the photo, Madaline asked me if I
minded if she changed into something a little more comfortable
before taking me home.  
     As Madaline walked back to her bedroom I stood and sipping
on the cold white wine and browsed the titles of the leather
bound books on her bookshelf.  It seemed to be taking Madaline a
long time to change, but I enjoyed the wine and was amazed at the
range and serious nature of the books in her collection.  I was
so absorbed that I didn't hear Madaline come up behind me. 
"Rikki, please turn around dear."  Her voice, so calm and assured
before had taken on an little girl quality. I slowly turned to
face my hostess.  "Madaline!"; I blurted out.  She was wearing a
white satin robe, tightly belted around the lush body.  The soft,
shimmering white satin contrasted with the shinning black hair
that fell down her back almost to her waist and with the black
satin which gloved her hands, black seamed hose the just peaked
opt from under the ankle length hem and, most especially, with
the black patent leather pumps whose 7 inch spiked heels made
Madaline just fractionally taller then I.  Her tasteful makeup
was gone, replaced with lots of pancake, hot pink blush, cherry
red lipstick, long black false eyelashes and loads of blue
eyeshadow.  In her hand, Madaline carried a long handled silver
hairbrush.  She wouldn't meet my eyes as I reached out and untied
the satin belt to her robe.  I pulled the robe off her shoulders
and let it drop in a gleaming pile on the floor.  Under the robe
Madaline wore a black satin and white lace french maid's uniform. 
The neckline was cut so that the black satin corset that crushed
Madaline's waist was visible.  The corset also pushed her large,
heavy breasts up into slut lovely mounds, the dark brown areolae
and half of her inch long nipples clearly exposed.  Under the
slinky black satin uniform's ultra short skirt frothy white lace
petticoats held her skirt out so that her garter tabs showed at
her slightest movement.  Her short, puffed sleeves were edged in
white lace along with the uniforms neck and the hem of her skirt. 
A short white satin apron was tied around Madaline's tightly
corseted waist.  I let my eyes travel over the sexy, slut image
the older woman had magically transformed herself to.  All trace
of the bank vice president was gone, only her pearl studs and
necklace remained.  I reached out with my right hand and gently
raised her head so that her eyes met mine.  As my hand touched
her chin, her entire body shivered and the eyes that met mine
were filled with equal parts of fear, lust, and helpless need.
     As I looked into her lovely face, I wondered what I should
do, I liked her and I wanted very much to please her.  I'd never
been with a woman, well not a woman with a pussy.  I realized
that she wanted me to be dominate, but I wasn't sure how to be
that way.  Madaline must have seen the uncertainly in my eyes and
she misinterpreted that for disapproval.  "God I'm sorry, I don't
know what I could have been thinking.  I'll drive you home or
call a taxi.  Please believe me, I didn't mean to upset you, I'm
so sorry, please."  Tears welled up in her doe brown eyes.  Her
entire body was shaking and her black satin gloved hands made to
touch my arms but fell back over and over.  I simply couldn't
understand the emotions that I felt right then.  I wanted her
clothes, the sexy, skimpy, subservient maids uniform, the soaring
spiked heels, the waist crushing corset and the silky black hose. 
More then that I wanted her tits, the sight of her full, mature
breasts spilling out of the corsets french cups and overflowing
her low cut black satin bodice made my clitty-cock stir inside
it's latex prison.  But even more then that, I wanted to please
her, to have her like me, need me, want me.  Madaline's face was
a sight now, tears running down her heavily made up cheeks and
her hands fluttering helplessly.  "Please Rikki, I'm so sorry."
she sobbed over and over, her body trembling.  I slapped her.
     Reaching out I took the silver hairbrush from her hand, and
in what I hoped was a properly stern tone said; "Your a mess
Madaline, go fix your face and then get your pussy back out here. 
And my glass is empty, your being very bad.  You seem to have
forgotten how to perform.  My god Madaline, sometimes your so
stupid I can't believe it."  As I spoke her face transformed from
fear to hope to a almost radiant glow of expectation.  Her relief
was a physical thing.  She curtsied to me and smiling said; "Yes
Madam, I'm sorry.  I'll get your wine and make myself presentable
at once."  She started to turn then turned back, "You won't be
sorry darling, I promises."  With that, she turned with a flurry
of her stiff lace petticoats and went to fulfill my orders. 
Within seconds she was back with a fresh, cold glass of perfectly
chilled chablis.  I took just the tiniest of sips and watched as
her lush, swaying hips disappeared into the bedroom.  
     Having her redo her makeup gave me time to think, what
should I do, and how in god's name was I to do it.  Finally I
opted for the simplest and most direct answer, I would simply do
unto Madaline exactly what I now constantly fantasized of Marrica
doing to me.  I took another sip and reflected that if I didn't
think this would be fun, my boy thing did.  Hefting the heavy,
wide, brush in my left hand and sipping from the glass in my
right I gave her a few minuets then followed her into her
bedroom.  She sat with her back to me a beautiful Victorian
dressing table reapplying her cherry red, slick, wet looking
lipstick.  As I approached she smiled at my reflection in the
mirror as I dropped the heavy brush on the down comforter that
covered the king sized bed.  I let her re-cap the lipstick tube
and when I stepped up behind he as she sat and put my arm around
her shoulders and sat my glass on the table in front of her. She
tried to stand, but I pushed her back down.  As I stood behind
her, I smiled and was rewarded with a lovely smile in return. 
"You look lovely, just like the cheep slut you are."; I purred. 
"Tell me dear, what's your name?"  The look of amazement was
delicious!  "Why Madaline Mistress, why?"  I cupped her huge tits
in mt hands and pushed the now rock hard nipples out of her
bodice.  "Now, now my pretty, little slut, never, never ask me
questions, after all I always know best, don't I dear."  "Yes
Mistress, I'm sorry."  I let my fingers gently grasp her inch
long, brown, hard nipples and began to squeeze.  "A mistress is a
kept woman, a whore, is that what I am darling?"  "Oh no, I'm
sorry, please Ma'am, your none of those things."  That right, now
did you know that your wrong, your not Madaline, she's a
beautiful, cultured woman, very powerful, a Harvard MBA, vice
president at a major bank, a success.  Your none of those things,
your a stupid, worthless cunt.  Your nothing but a mindless
tramp, a toy.  In fact you don't even deserve a name, just a
letter, let's see....Dee, as in d for a dumb, dirty ditz.  Now
what's your name?"  As I spoke in quite, gentle tones, I twisted
her nipples harder and harder.  "Dee Ma'am, my name is Dee." 
"And whose bedroom is this Dee?"  "Madaline's Ma'am."  What are
you doing at Madaline's dressing table Dee?"  "Making up my face
like you told me Ma'am"  I twisted hard, pulling Dee to her feet.
"Don't you ever use that tone with me bitch!"  I screamed.  I let
go with my left hand and using my right pulled the now moaning
french maid towards the huge king sized bed.  "Your a bad girl
Dee, arn't you."  Yes, oh yes Ma'am, I'm a very bad girl!"  And
what should I do with you, you nasty thing."  "Bad girls should
be spanked, please Ma'am, I need to be spanked."  And Dee is not
allowed in Madaline's room is she?"  "No I'm not, please spank me
for that to."  "And Dee is going to have her own room from now
on, one that just like Dee, a room that just looking at it,
everyone will know just what kind of cunt Dee is. Right Dee?" 
Yes, yes, a room just like Dee."  I pick up the long handled,
heavy silver brush, and pulled Dee across my skirt, and pushing
up her fluffy petticoats notced that she wasn't wearing any
panties.  The first real pussy I'd every seen was there,
helpless, waiting, her neatly trimmed bush showing off her pink
cunt lips.  I took the brush and stoked her pussy lips with the
stiff brissles of the brush.  I was rewarded with a loud moan
form the slut who lay passivly across my lap.  Suddenly I felt
the power I had, this bitch wanted me to use her and I could.  I
rubbed the brush a little harder and she moaned louder.  "Are you
a bad girl?"  "Yes, oh yes Ma'am, a very bad girl!"  I brought
the back of the brush down on her exposed derrier, not with any
real force, but the reaction was as spectatulure as it was
unexpected. "Oh Yes, spank my worthless whore's ass!"  She
screamed, "Spank me hard, make me pay for being a bad girl!"  I
brought the brush down harder and harder as she squrimed and
moaned with each stoke.  "That's right, spank me, spank my ass,
I'm a bad girl, I'm bad, spank me hard, make me be a good girl,
make me be good.  Yes, Yes, YES, YES!!!  Spank my ass, spank
Dee's ass, make Dee a good girl!"  Her ass cheeks now glowed a
deep cherry red that matched her lipstick as I felt my clitty-
cock growing more and more excited inside my gafe.  Almost from
outside myself I head my voice; "Bad bitch, bad Dee, your a bad
bitch.  Dee has to be punished, doesn't she, beg bitch!"  Yes,
Dee's a bad bitch, spank bitch Dee's ass!  Please! Harder,
HARDER! YES! I'm cumming, oh fucking god spank my butt, make me
cum, make Dee cum!  OH YES! YES, YES, YES!!!!!"  Her entire body
spasamed with her orgasm.  As her body shook and she screamed
'YES!' over and over, I trasfered the brush from her ass to rub
her sopping pussy.  The meer touch of the brushes handle on her
wet cunt caused her to orgasm again.  As I slipped the handle
into her grasping cunt, Dee began to beg, "Yes, please fuck me,
fuck Dee, fuck Dee's cunt, Dee needs to be fucked, fuck me good,
use Dee's pussy."  I jammed the brush deep into the now quaking
woman's pussy and no longer able to contain my need, shoved her
off my lap and into a satin heep at my feet.  I pushed up my
skirt and pulled my panty hose down and released my clitty-cock
from the confining gaf.  The woman at my feet gasped; "Your a
man!"  I slapped her, hard this time."  "Bitch!" My voice was
silky, like satin covered steel; "I am a real woman! You think
that just becuse you were lucky enough to be born with a cunt,
that your special. Well your not, unlike you, I'm a woman with a
penis!  I'm a woman who has a wonderful, powerful secret, instead
of a nasty girl hole, I have a sweet clitty-cock."  Reaching down
I grasped a handfull of her soft silky black hair and pulled her
to her knees between my nyloned legs.  "Now bitch, kiss it, kiss
my clitty-cock!"  I pulled her head towards my hard on, loving
the feeling of power.  Her lips came close and then gently she
kissed the head of my pre-cum soaked cock. "I'd forgotten how
good boy-cum tastes!"  She moaned.  She started to take my cock
into her mouth but I pulled her head back.  "I'm your perfect
girlfriend aren't I?"  I asked softly.  Her cheeks blushed bright
under her hot pink rouge. "Yes.  Your my dream lover, a beautiful
woman with a beautiful cock."  I stood, pulling her to her feet. 
Holding my skirt away from my cock; "And what should I do to you
with my clitty-cock."  "Fuck me with it, fuck my nasty girl cunt
with your wonderful woman's meat."  I turned her around and
shoved her towards the chair in front of the vanity.  Once there
I commanded, "Spread your legs whore!"  As my slut maid bent over
and grabbed the chair I stepped up behind her and let the head of
my cock touch the lips of her sopping pussy.  "Oh yes Ma'am,
please use my pussy, please fuck me.  I haven't been fucked in so
long, my pussy need's my wonderful lady's big, hard cock!  Please
Ma'am, fuck me with your cock."  I pulled her hair so that her
head turned towards the full length mirror that stood next to the
vanity.   The reflection almost made me cum, I saw a attractive
young woman dressed in a beautiful, conservative maroon suit
standing with her tailored skirt shoved up to her thighs, her
panty hose pulled down to her hips, with her hard, throbbing cock
in her hand.  The Yuppie bitch stood behind her maid, her penis
rubbing up against the scantly dressed servants wet, dripping
snatch.  As I watched my pretty yuppie slowly slid her cock into
her maid's waiting slit.  The feeling was fantastic!  I'd always
wondered what my very first time would be like, well my first
time putting my girl-meat into girl pussy.  I'd never believed
that it would be with a seductive, voluptuous older woman whose
taste ran to being dominated by a lesbian lover.  I slid my cock
in as deep as I could, until I could feel my balls up against her
upper cunt lips.  "Don't move bitch."  Dee was starting to move
her hips forward, trying to fuck.  She stopped at once, but was
now moaning over and over; "Please Ma'am, I need it."  Only when
I felt her whimpering need was at it's deprived height did I
softly whisper, "Fuck my woman's cock bitch."  Madaline's hips
began to move at once, one, two, three smooth pelvic strokes and
the her body began to twitch with the force of her approaching
orgasm.  As my submissive slut began to beg "Fuck me PLEASE!", I
began to slid my wonderful clitty-cock in and out of her now
dripping hole.  Suddenly her pussy contracted around my
straining, erect pole as her whole body shook and she screamed
out "Yes, Oh fucking god yes"  Her satin covered hand were
fluttering helplessly as I buried myself in her war wet pussy and
shot my sweet cum deep inside her.  We stood, just as we had
started, motionless, both our breaths now coming in shallow
panting gasps.  In the mirror I watched the perfect picture of
lady and her maid.
     Once I had regained my composure, slowly withdrew my cum
soaked cock from her cum dripping pussy.  I stepped back still
holding my skirt carefully out of the way.  "Turn around D for
dolly."  I ordered.  She turned, her face a mask of concupiscent
wanton need.  On you knees D for Dummy.  Slowly she sank to her
black nyloned knees in front of me.  I forced my now semi-soft
cock into her face. "Lick it clean D for dolt."  I commanded as I
rubbed my sloppy wet prick over her heavily made up face.  She
obeyed like the submissive whore she really was.  Only when I was
happy and my cock free of the sticky, thick white cum did I
return my secret to it's hiding place and straightened my
clothes.
     "Now Dee, I'm going to let you pretend to be Madaline again. 
When you come back out of here, you'll act like Madaline, but
you'll always remember that it's just a act, your really Dee, my
pretty maid slut.  Do you understand?"  She smiled and curtseyed
as she answered "Yes Ma'am, I'm Dee, but now I can pretend to be
power bitch Madaline, thank you Ma'am."
     I picked up my wine glass and returned to the living room. 
As I took a tiny sip of wine, I reflected that since my first
time in a dress, I'd gone from a shy, introverted, dork of a
virgin (but third board at my chess club) to having a steady boy
friend (well I had hopes for Eric, lost my clitty-cocks, my bum
and everyplace else you could give or receive pleasure virginity
acquired a whole new identity and lastly fucked a woman old
enough to be my mother (fucking my mother?  No! what a horrid
sick though!). The Windsor clock on the mantle said 3:30 A.M. 
Goodness, doesn't time fly when your having cum.


     Well, Rikki's horizon's are certainly widening at a quick
rate.  Being (when it suits me) truthful, this episode was far
and away the hardest.  Madaline slipped from Dom to sub and back
several time, but as in all the stories I've read, there's never
been a younger dom TV, so blithely ignoring the oblivious (no one
is interested in a younger dom TV) I plunge happily and dumbly
ahead.  Should Madaline return and what of her daughter (I have
plans for everyone)?  Eric seems to be more then a one-night
stand and what of Marrisa?  Can Rikki's mother really be so
blissfully ignorant of the changes and the conveniently never
there Monica and what secrets lurk in Jessica's basement.  I hope
to see you for part 7 of 3!

******************************
This file came from
Sierra Connection BBS
Serving the Gender Community from Nevada
702-825-4220 8-N-1 28.8 VF (4 Nodes)

Home of the Fiction Story Writing Contest
Home of the Gif Beauty Contest
RIKKI7.TXT

Welcome back as Rikki's path to becomeing a she-male
continues.  Alas, I've decided to push Rikki's schedual up.  This
short story is fast getting out of hand.   I hope that no one
(assumeing someone is still reading this) minds too much.



                    TRADING PLACES - Part 7

                     By Ms. Desiree Foster


     The ride back to my house was strangely quite. While Dee was
recreating Madaline I looked into what was obviously Madaline
home office.  There was a locked video cabnet in one corner and a
few seconds work with a hairpin (one of the few talents that had
endeared Richard to his male pals) and I looked at a jumble of
tapes.  All were labled 'Home Movies' and in total disarray. 
Suddenly, on impluse I took one.  My heart was pounding so hard
that I just knew I looked guilty.  I droped the tape in my purse
and resumed looking at Madaline's libary.  When Madaline
reapeared, she gave no hint that anything at all had happened,
indeed, if it wasn't for the white satin robe laying on the
plushly carpeted floor, I would have thought the entire episode a
dream.  The ride home was quite, I wasn't sure what to make of
it.  Was she unhappy with me, had I not been what she wanted?  I
hoped I was.  I mean, my goal in life was to be exactly the kind
of girl others want me to be.  When we arrived, Madaline gave me
a quick kiss on the cheek and with out a word place an envelope
in the outer pocket of my purse.  I got out and watched the
Mercedee's taillights as thay disappeared.  While I loved the
feel of Madaline's pussy, I wasn't sure if I like being dominate. 
I was certenly more work!
     I unlocked the door, turned off the alarm replaced Mommie's
mink and gloves then wandered back to Richard's room (I had more
and more trouble thinking of this room as mine).  My back hurt
(probaly from my hours in heels) and my chest was even more sore
the usual.  I took a couple of the musule relaxers, undressed,
carefuly put my suit away, washed out my pantyhose and gaff and
cleaned off my makeup (got'ta take care of my complexion.  A girl
like me know her face is her strongest selling point.  What a
strange thought?)  Finnished with house keeping, I climbed into
bed, as I put my headphones in and punch the play button.  The
tension I felt was washed away in the soothing music of Maiden
Songs II as I drifted off to sleep 
     It was after 12 when I woke up.  After a long hot shower,
getting my leg and underarms shaved (a royal pain, but I loved
feeling all smooth and silky.) I wrapped a towel around my chest
and wandered into the kitchen and started a pot of coffie.  I
needed to find some place to put my thing, but where.  God what a
fucking pain.  I poured my coffie and popped a couple of the
mussele relaxers and tried to think.  I picked up my coffie and
wandered back towards my bedroom, as I went down the hallway,
there sitting on the table next to the front door was my purse,
SHIT!  Thank god no one Monica or Mommies dearest hadn't shown
up.  I picked up the purse and noticed the envelope.  Once back
in my room I opened the envelope, inside was Madaline's business
card with her home phone and a hand written note 'Call me
please!'.  The note was signed 'Dee' The envelope also contained
five one hundred dollar bills.  My first reaction was to call
that bitch and tell her that I wasn't that kind of girl, but that
was quickly replaced with the strangest of feelings, what was
wrong with being that kind of girl.  I looked at the money and
then opened my purse and slipped the bills into my wallet. 
$600.00, more cash then I'd ever had at one time.  Richard wallet
yielded up another $23.00 and a single Trojan that I kept to show
off to Richard's nerd friends at school.  Goodness.  I pulled on
a pair of panties, followed by jeans (goddamm these pants were
getting tight in the ass and loose in the waist.) and a black tee
shirt.  I went out and froze my ass off getting the paper.  First
the funnies then the fashion section.  As I drooled over the
fashion section, an insert called 'Apartment Finders' caught my
eye.  I picked it up and started to leaf through it.  "MOVE IN
SPECIAL - LARGE ONE BEDROOM - FURNISHED."  I picked the section
up and unfolded it.  "Spacious one bedroom $495.00/m, all
utilities included, pool."  The address was only a half mile
away.  Suddenly I had an idea.  I stripped and got my face done
and my fall on.  Richard was gone and Rikki was reborn.  I
started to dress, the suit, blouse, pantyhose and pumps.  This
time I opted for Monica's black wool coat and Mommies's gloves. 
I grabbed my purse and had a sudden flash of awesome insight. 
Neighbors can be very nosey and just what I don't need is one of
them telling Mommies about this good looking bitch parading her
ass out of here a 1 P.M.  I called a taxi.  The fare was $5.70
(it was $4.00 to open the cab door and get in).  Then, there I
was, being shown an apartment by a kindly older man (a Mr.
Rogers, who couldn't keep his eyes off my ass).  It had taken me
a little bit to find the live in managers apartment, the place
was huge, maybe 200 to 300 units all two story and spread out
over several acres.  He looked about sixty, trim and sweet, kind
of a grandfather type. His wife was an unpleasant 300 pound mess,
sitting there with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth dressed
in polyester pants and a polyester housecoat watching a video
tape of the PTL club. (God why do women do that to themselves, if
I been lucky enough to be born with a wonderful pussy instead of
my boy-thing, I'd kill myself to stay pretty and attractive!)  It
turned out that the place cost $495 plus a one month security
deposit, damn!  I explained that I'd just moved here from florida
and was staying with a friend and that this was the first place
I'd looked. Then I told him that I really didn't plan on renting
until I had a little more money.  As he showed me the place, he
kept rubbing up against me and touching my arm and back.  He
explained that this was the display apartment that the owners
(who were a dental investment group from Milwaukee) allowed him
to keep to show to potential tenants.  I mentioned that I was
often out of town for a week or more at a time. As I told him
this outrageous lie he brushed against my thigh. I suddenly had a
flash.  I moved so my thigh pressed back firmly against his
crotch.  I could feel his erection.  As he stepped back
stammering, I turned to face him.  'You nasty boy, pressing that
great big hardon up against my ass!  Do you like good looking
Yuppie's like me?  I'll just bet you do.  I'll bet you sit in
your apartment every morning watch us go to work in our sexy
suits and our high heels, sit there playing with your prick and
wishing you could fuck one of us.  Don't you?"  "Miss St. James,
I never...."  I stepped up close to him and took his wrists in my
leather gloved hands and pulled him to me.  In my heels I was as
tall as he was and I looked straight into his almost panic
stricken eyes.  "You get your thrills brushing up against the
women when you can and looking at them.  God know that if I was a
man, I'd look to.  Your wife has let herself go.  Be honest with
me (This dom stuff was coming easier, god being a pretty girl was
pure power!) you'd give anything to fuck me.  I'll bet you wife
doesn't ever talk like that.  In fact I'll bet there's lots of
things that your wife doesn't do."  His breath was coming in
little gasps now.  "Now tell Ms. St. James, how many apartments
are empty?"  "Eight"; he stammered.  "And now tell Rikki which
one is the furthermost from yours.  "This one, it's the longest
way from everything, it's why we keep it for show, it never
rents."  I let my gloved hand slid down his chest, down to his
stomach, then gently down to his crotch.  "I like this apartment. 
All you have to do is show the others and leave this one alone. 
In return, just every so often, I can make it a wonderful day in
Mister Rogers Neighborhood."  "I couldn't do that, I mean...."
His protest was cut off by his moan as I let my hand unzip his
fly.  I slipped my hand into his pants, his erection warm and
hard in my hand.  "Yes you could, that sow your married to
doesn't take care of her man.  The dentist's that own this place
are getting rich on tax breaks and all your getting is a free
apartment and a few bucks a month.  Now baby, do something for
yourself.  I get a free apartment and, say every wednesday
afternoon, I'll make your dreams cum true.  No more looking and
wishing, locking yourself in the bathroom and jerking off, while
that bitch your married too snores her fat ass off.  Have you
ever been sucked off, no you haven't, I can tell."  My free hand
opened my purse and remove the Trojan.  Letting go of his hard on
I watched his eyes go wide as I made a production of opening it
(with ALLOT of lip licking.)  His reaction was so cute that I
almost giggled.  As is slowly rolled the latex condom over his
cock, I looked deep into his eyes.  "You've dreamed about this
haven't you, well baby, I'm your dream girl.  You've got way to
nice a cock to waste beating off.  Your wife never talks dirty
does she, no she just talks mean.  Well sweetie, there's a
difference, when I say fuck, it means pleasure, making you feel
good.  You really are big, I love older men with big cocks, my
boyfriend isn't any bigger then you are and he's huge.  Now baby,
would you like me to suck that great big tool of yours, take that
great big hardon of your into my pretty mouth and make you cum. 
Well daddy, shall your little girl make daddies cock cum?"  The
daddy was exactly the right button.  His eyes lit up as he
gasped; "Oh yes, daddy would love that, please god yes!"  Never
letting my eyes leave his, I slowly sank to my knees, holding his
condom covered prick in my hands.  "I love you daddy and I love
my daddy's cock."  As I kissed the head of his cock, I slowly ran
my hands down the shaft, and cupped his balls in my right hand. 
"And can Rikki live here Daddy?"  "Oh yes!  Please!"  His assent
was 1% permission and 99% prayer.  As I slowly took him in my
mouth, still looking in his eyes (worshipfully I hoped),
Richard's mind screamed WHORE!  But Rikki's whispered YES!"   The
feel of the latex condom was strange, almost unpleasant (I missed
the cum taste, but these days, you have to be careful.) but my
delight in his pleasure soon over came my dislike of the rubber. 
It took more saliva then usual but soon I had his entire cock in
my mouth.  I loved it's feel, sliding his hardon deep into my
throat the out till just the tip was between my lips,  glaceing
down at the lipstick smeared rubber then up at the panting,
gasping landlord whose tool I was working.  His hands were
fluttering at his sides, desperate to touch me stroke my silky
fine hair, to hold my head as my lips brought him pleasure that
until now I'm sure he only dreamed of.  "God"; I thought; "What a
sweet cock to waste on a fat bitch who doesn't even know how to
please her man."  Well if she didn't, I sure did.  I gently
squeezed his heavy, hairy, cum filled balls with my gloved left
hand while my right thumb rubbed the base of his cock.  I
increased the pace of my hands while sucking him deep in my
mouth, then out.  I felt his balls harden as he began to cum, so
I let his cock escape my lips and begged him,  "Cum for me daddy,
let your little girl have your cum.  My left hand was stroking
his balls while my right brought him to a crashing climax.  His
eyes rolled up till nothing but the whites showed, his breath
coming in wild pants, his body shaking like a man with fever, his
hands waving wildly, wanting to touch me, but afraid.  As he came
I slipped my lips over the head of his prick, biting gently and
moaning between my cock stuffed lips.  He staggered back and I
reached behind him and steadied him with my right hand as
pluseing jet after milky jet of thick cum filled the rubber to
near bursting.  Then in a gasping breath I heard "I love you
Rikki." as poor Mr. Rogers collapsed backward onto the couch, his
empty balls still trying to cum. 
     I left the Sun Palms apartments (The best in all adult
living) with the key to apartment 172A in my purse along with my
$600.00

     First Interlude 

     The store, well pawn shop, was in one of the worst parts of
LA.  The man behind the counter reguarded the stylish, model type
who stood before him.  "You have it?"  Her voice was velvet
covered steel."  "Yah, you got the fucking money, $500.00,
nothing bigger then a twenty."  Her right hand was already in her
shoulder bag, so he was suprised when she reached across her
shapley body and removed a large white envelope.  As she did, he
cought sight of the gun.  "Shit" he thought "This bitch don't
play" The black, heavy shape was a 10mm Glock 20. The envelope
hit the counter top with a heavy thud.  He counted the used bills
quickly and then shoved the gun case over the counter to the
woman, his 'I could knock some off for some.' remained, wisely,
unspoken. "It's everything you asked for."  She smiled; "It
better be."  Without a word she opened the case, smiled, closed
the case, blew him a kiss and in a haze of Chanel, was gone.


     Rikki's world settled into a happy daze,  Wednesday, after
school, Mr. Rogers little girl made her daddy's big thing happy. 
He turned out to be a kind and gentle man and began to bring me
presents that I'm sure he couldn't afford and needless to say I
got new carpet and furniture courtesy of some dental group I'd
never see to thank.  I paid my own phone and bought a TV and VCR. 
Madaline turned into Dee on a bi-monthly basis and every session
(which were getting very, very kinky) widened my horzons futher.
Eric, whenever he was in town (which was, unfortunately rarely),
became more and more of a steady thing.  The constant was
Marrisa.  Her support and love kept me able to balance what was
becoming an impossible juggling act.  Mommy dearest was out of
town a lot working on some movie or the other and Monica was
getting lots of overtime due to a chronic shortage of nurses
willing to work that far from the city.  If either one of those
two had been home more, I'd have been found out at once.  As it
was haveing Mommie dearest around was bad enough.  While Rikki's
life was going well, Richards was the pits.  The closer
graduation got, the more Mommie complained about my lack of
direction.  She finaly came out and said the in September she
planed to send  me to a college prep type school.  One of those
intense junior collage's that get you ready for the big time. 
She made sure everyone knew this and everyone accepted it as a
given and told me how lucky I was.  Mom had recived an offer to
do the costumes for a movie in Australia during August, but told
me that she'd be back by the first of September and that we'd
have a three week vacation in Mexico before I was shiped off to
where ever this shool was.  Monica said that it was best to do
what Mommie said and not to worry.
     Marrisa always showed up in her Kathy Ireland look now, and
I was Jessica only for Eric.  Strangely I never even listened to
the other tapes Marrisa gave me, but found that I couldn't sleep
without my headphones softly playing to jazz sounds of Maiden
Songs to me.  I was eating the muscle relaxers at a rate that had
me worried about being addicted.  I didn't have gym (but I did
have a both a nordic-trak and a versa-climber in my apartment)
this year so my budding breasts and widening hips were never
noticed under the baggy sweatshirt and pants that I constantly
wore.  My facial and body hair slowly went the way of the dodo
thanks to electrolysis courtesy of Marrisa.  While Richard became
more and more of a unmissed non-entity both around the house and
at school, I also began to become just a little unhappy with
Rikki.  More and more even the name Rikki seemed too close to
Richard (god how I hate that name) and the cookie jar on top of
the fridge fridge in MY apartment now held well over 3000.00 in
tips from Mr. Rogers (who was helplessly in love with me.) and
from Madaline (who had a need to pay.) for her sessions.


     Second Interlude 
     
     "Surveillance tapes, phone tapped, house bugged, where she
goes, who she sees, when she pee's and what color.  Look, I don't
want to know why your interested in some hooker, but this bitch's
house is like Fort fucking Knox.  I can do it, but it's fucking
going to cost, $1000.00 a day, thirty day minimum.  That's
$30,000, half up front.  Look, it's none of my business, but this
is big bucks.  If this starts to go sour, I'm gone, everything
gets burned, erased, wiped, and you don't get shit back, OK."
     

     Graduation and goodbye to high school.  To say that I was
relived was an understatement.  God how I hated it, having to
pretend to be Richard 7 hours a day.  With graduation came three
things, first from Mommies dearest, a car, a new Volkswagen
Jetta, even thought the title was in her name (insurance she
said).  My second present from Mommies dearest was an unending
load of shit on what to do with my life and how to go about it. 
Third, from Monica another truckload of grief when Mom was around
on how I was such a disappointment to Mommie.  If I heard Monica
say; "She got you the car and all you do lay around and do
nothing, your grades stank and you have no plans at all.  Why
can't you be more like your sister.  If you were more like her,
everything would be fine."; once, I heard the speech a thousand
times.  On the upside, first, my all of my bras were getting very
tight and I was filling out my small wardrobe nicely.  Second,
when it was just Monica and me, she was sweet and told me not to
worry about what I was going to do.  She said that before summer
was over, she was sure that I would find the direction I needed
to take in my life.  Her flip flop had be thinking that her
criticism was more to make Mom happy and that she really wanted
things to work out for me.
     I already had the keys to Jessica's house, but lacked the
chance to go over and help myself to the pleasure of her lovely
things.  Jessica had always been cool and aloft towards me (well
to be honest, she was that way with everyone) but since school
was over, even more so.  It seemed as if she wanted to rub her
success in, constantly reminding everyone that at 18 she was
making $75,000 dollars a year as a model, while I was making
nothing.  Well I was still 17, so I felt the analogy somewhat
unfair.  

     Then it happened, my first real test I guess.  I'd just
finnished 'paying my rent' when the door to the apartment burst
open.  Waddleing in all her polyester glory was Mrs. Rogers, who
christian name was Burtha, apt.  Of course her ire was directed
at me first.  "You filthy whore (not true, I always keep myself
kissing sweet, giggle), Jezabael, (again not true, I wasn't
trying to get any one to worship Bael, only me!), slut. (well she
had me there.)  Poor Ernest tried to get his pants up and only
suceeded in falling down.  I was up and over to the door in a
flash.  No since in upseting the neighbors!   She pulled herself
up to her full 5'1" and tried to slap me.  All my working out had
not only given me a killer body, but made me very supple and
fairly strong.  I cought her hand and shoved her back.  She
staggered and the lost her balance.  I steped over to her and
grabbed a handfull of her close croped, unstyled, unbrushed,
dirty mess that could only be called hair becuse it was on top of
her unmadeup, unwashed, uncared for head.  "Let go of me you
blaspheming slut, you adultress, you hell bound sinning slut,
you."  I'd heard enought of this!  My slap suprised me almost as
much as it did her.  "Shut up, you fridged, fat, useless thing. 
If you were any type of lover to your husband he wouldn't be here
with me.  But your not and he is.  She started to say something
so I slaped her again.  Then I don't know what came over me.  I
pulled her into the bed room and shoved the now crying woman onto
the bed.  In a flash, I had her hands tied behind her back, then
her legs.  When she realized what I was doing, she began to
scream.  A pair of my dirty panties put that to a quick end. 
Ernest appeared, his pants still down around his ankles.  His
protest died stillborn as I shot him a look that said, 'Me or
her'.  I finshed trussing the slob on the bed then rolled her
over.  Her eyes (which with a little work might have been a
pretty gray) reguarded me with pure terror.  "First off, lets get
something stright, given the choice of a sow like you or a woman
like me, I think that even you know what your husband's choice
would be.  Now I think the world of your husband and your not
going to cause him any more trouble.  In fact, instead of being a
millstone around his neck, your going to become someone he can be
proud of."  I stood and took Mr. Rogers by the arm and lead him
back to the livingroom.  "Your not going to, well, hurt, I mean,
god Rikki I never would..."  I shushed him with a kiss.  "No
silly.  I assume that at one time she was an attractive woman?" 
" Oh yes, when she was young she...."  A second kiss ended his
babbleing.  "I'm going to call a friend.  Cover for me and tell
folks there was a death in her family, something and I'll see if
we can't make your life a little sweeter."
     Marrisa was shocked, to say the least.  "Well sweets, I'll
give you this, you don't do things by halves."  She reguarded the
teary, bound and gaged whale on the bed.  "But your right, a
pussy is wasted on her.  Well, what's life without a challange." 
She went out and had a talk with Ernest.  
     My apartment became an impromptu gym and dungon.  First we
stripped Burtha of her polyester mentality.  It proved far easer
then I ever thought.  My Nordic-Trak and Versi-climber were
joined by a life cycle and free weights.  Jane Fonda workout
videos and instruction in make up.  Some special music tapes that
Burtha (whose middle name was a lovly Danelle) sweated to.  We
helped the weight loss with some lipo-suction and a little boob
job and ass tuck, after hours, at the clinic of a friend of
Erics.  The funny thing was that Danelle adapted so quickly.  It
turned out that she was a barely suppressed submissive anyway. 
Since her husband wouldn't dominate her, she'd lasped into a self
destructive type of behavior.  The first two months of my summer
vacation passed as she went from a size twenty to a size 10. 
Since her obsession in life was televangelest's we worked to
recreate a Tammy Faye Baker style.  Hair became blonde, makeup,
lots of make up, and a new wardrobe.  All the while Marrisa,
Ernest and myself worked at reinforceing a properly submissive
'born again slut' image. Marrisa somehow aquired tapes of the old
PTL club and we had Burtha/Danelle watching her new role model,
Tammy-faye, twenty hours a day.  Throughout, Danelle was never
allowed to see herself, oh she knew she was loseing weight and
all, but she had no idea of the drastic nature of the new person
she was becoming.  The just two weeks before I was to get shipped
off to prep school, Marrisa decided that it was time to find out
if we were all going to jail.  Danelle was made ready to become
just who Marrisa and I had deciced she should be.  First she
shaved her body until she was completely smooth.  Then we ordered
her to shave her pussy.  We watched smiling as she meekly obeyed. 
Then Marrrisa handed her a pink satin and lace Victorian style
corset.  The undergarmet was very heavly boned and would reduce
her waist by six full inches if it were laced all the way closed. 
Marrisa and I watched Danelle as she struggled into the
constrictive garmet.  As she did so, we praised her and told her
that God loved her like this.  Once into the corset, Danelle
turned to us and in her now soft, sudective voice asked "Will you
lace me tighter, please."  We, of course, were happy to comply. 
As we pulled the corset breath taking tight, Danelle moaned "Yes
Jesus, this is what you want me to be.  Tighter, please lace it
tighter, God wants you to!  Yes, that it, oh yes, tighter,
tighter.  I want God to love me like this, but I've got to be
just like Tammy says I shoud be.  Yes, oh yes, pull it tight." 
The corset's shelf cups supported her large, full, mature
breasts, as I contenued to struggle to force the corset closed,
Marrisa help Danelle settle her large breasts in the half cups. 
Then as the back of the corset came togather, Marrisa twisted
Danelle's rock hard nipples.  Danelle came.  Her body shook in
the spasm of her orgasm.  She kept moaning "Praise God" over and
over.  When her pleasure was spent, she turned to us panting,
"God loves you for what yov'e done to me.  I was evil and wicked
and have to be punished, but you've made me understand God's plan
for me."  Marrisa just smiled and handed her a pair of pink
nylons.  Soon the nylons were smoothed on over her now shapely
legs and fastened to the corsets eight garter straps.  Marris
hand Danelle a ten inch dildo and turned the vibrator the filled
it on.  Without a word Danelle slid the huge rubber cock into her
now driping pussy,  As soon as the dildo had disappeared
completly except for the pink satin ribbon that had been tied to
it base, Marris had Danelle a identical twin.  This one quckly
disappeared into her waiting ass.  "Oh yes Jesus, good Christian
women only let there husbands have there pussy, so wicked sluts
like me have to have there cunts and ass filled up, locked up.  A
thin pink leather strap was ran from the front of the heavy satin
corset, down through the cack of her shaved pussy, under and up
throught the crack of her ass.  The two satin ribbons were tied
and the her shaved pussy was misted my pink transparent thong
panties.  As she stood there, no one would of guessed that the
lovly wasp waisted woman standing there had been filled, both ass
and pussy stuffed full, with rubber cocks whose vibrators faint
hum could just bearly be heard.  A pink nylon full slip lavish
with white lace came next, covering the indecently tight corset,
hiding it and the shaved, dildo filled pussy behind an almost
innocent facade.  A chaste white silk blouse witk a high
manderian style neck came next.  The blouse buttoned up the back
and was sleeveless.  Marrisa fastened a six strand chocker of
pearls around Danielle's throat and put long gold and pearl drop
earrings through Danelle newly periced ears.  Then we helped her
into a constricting, tailored, calf length pink satin skirt
covered in white lace.  The skirt was tightly tapered and
buttoned in the back from the knee to the hem.  Marrisa helped
Danielle tuck the blouse in, then zipped and buttoned the skirt. 
A pink leather wide Vee belt went around Danniel waist and was
pulled tight then buckeled in the small of her back.  Pink satin
pumps with quarter inch wide ankle staps and 6 inch stelleto
spiked heels.  Danniel was sat down and hair weave extensions
were added.  Two hours later a exquisite golden blonde mane was
the result, teased to towering, laquered perfection.  While
Marrisa worked on Danielle's hair, I worked on her hands.  In
order to transform myself from Richard to Rikki, Marrisa had
taught me how to do wraps and tips for my nails.  I took these
lessions to the extreame. 1 and 1/2 inch perfectly sculpted nails
polished hot pink to exactly match her skirt.  As I finished up
her hands, Marris worked her magic on Danielle's face.  First, 2
inch long false eyelashes were glued on.  Then loads of pancake
makeup smoothed Danielle's face to matte perfect finish. 
Danielles eyes wre oulined, both above and below, in bright neon
blue liner that glistened wetly even when it dried.  Bright,
light blue on her lids was blended to sparkling silver  shadow at
her high, thin arched penciled brows.  Loads of pink blush gave
Danielle high sexy cheeks and her lips were coveverd in loads of
creamy, shiny, hot pink lipstick.  Matte powder and lots of navy
blue masscarra finished Danielle's now sexy, slutty face. Marrisa
then commanded Danielle to stand and took pink satin ribbon and
tied lengths tightly around Danielle's elbows and wrists.  I
wondered at what Marrisa was up to, but wisely remained silent. 
I handed Danielle her gloves, shoulder length, skin tight pink
satin, with three tiny white pearl buttons at each wrist. 
Danielle slowly and carfully pulled the gleaming, super thin,
streach satin over her obscenely long nails and then over her
hands.  The gloves didn't hide the nails at all, in fact the
lustrous satin called attention them.  Gold and pearl cocktail
rings went on each finger except for the ring finger of
Danielle's left hand.  That finger recived an indecently large
diamond and gold wedding set.  The rings that went on the first
fingers of each hand had white satin ribbons attached.  Danielle
stood pasively as Marrisa carefully threaded the ribbons from her
wrists through the small spaces between the buttons that closed
her gloves snugly at her wrists.  The ribbons at her elbows were
passed through tiny slits hidden by the seams in the gloves. 
Once the ribbons were pulled out, Danniele's gloves where pulled
the remainder of the way up.  Marrisa then helped Danielle into
the jacket to her Sunday suit.  Danielle's jacket matched the
skirt, hot pink satin covered in rich white lace.  The jacket had
a deep shawl coller, 3/4 length sleeves a flaired peplem waist
and fastened tightly with three covered buttons at the waist.  As
Marrisa helped Danielle into the jacket she pulled the ribbons
from the elbow through tiny holes in the elbows of the jacket,
then through matching holes in the side seams of the jacket
itself.  The jacket was carfully lifted up and the ribbons were
tied to the buckle of the belt that crushed Danielle's waist. 
Danielle's elbows were now held tightly aginst her body.  A pink
satin clutch style purse was put into Danielle's left hand.  A
small hole in the front of the purse allowed the ribbon from the
ring on her finger to be passed through pulling her satin gloved
hand tight aginst the matching clutch.  A matching hole in the
back of the clutch allowed the ribbon to be passed through the
and tied tightly to her now hidden thumb.  The ribbon from her
wrist was then passed through the second button hole in her
pretty jacket and tightly tied to the decorative gold and pearl
butterfly buckle on the the belt.  Needless to say her left hand
was now completly immoble, held tight aginst her waist, her
useless hand clutching her purse, a purse that she could nether
open or put down.  Marrisa now produced a white satin bible with
a proceded to repeat the prcidure of binding her hand to it. 
This time however her right arm was bent and the ribbon from her
wrist was passed under arm and tightly tied the the ribbon that
held her elbow tight aginst her waist.  Marrisa now fastend two
large gold and pearl braclets so that now not even a hint of the
ribbons were visable.  Now Marrisa did something I found mildly
disgusting.  "Open wide Danielle."  When Danielle complied,
Marrisa reach into her mouth and carefully removed her dentures. 
Yuch!  Marrisa now opened a box and removed a new pair.  The
false teeth were a single peice, uppers and lowers fused into a
solid unit.  Behind the pearly white teeth was a hollow penis
gag.  Denture adheasive (industral strength) was applied and the
rubber cock shoved into the mouth of and then down the throat of
Danielle.  A little adjustment and some touch up of the lipstick
and Danielle's now smiling mouth was filled with gleaming white,
perfectly even, teeth.  Slight, ever so slight, mewwing sounds
were all that escaped the diabolicly clever gag.  Marrisa smiled
as she guided her creation to the full length mirror and allowed
Danielle to reguard herself fro the first time.  Danielle stood
mutely (as if she had a choice) reguarding the blond creature
that Bertha had become.  The woman that smiled back, her face
suggestively made up, her voluptuous body dressed in a
breathtakinly tight satin and lace suit under which a luminous,
white satin, over tight, blouse made her large erect nipples even
more obivious.  In counterpoint, she held her clutch modestly in
her satin gloved hand while her other hand demurly clutched her
bible aginst her large, full breast.  And not one hint of the
bondage she was in showed, bound, gaged, yet to the ouside world
she appeared to be a perfect vision of the born again Mary Kay
ideal.  I watched in shocked awe as Danielle's bound form shook
with the force of her orgasm.  Smiling Marrisa opened a second
wig box and removed a wig head crowned with another blond teased
creation.  With a wicked smile she guided me to the makeup table. 
"Get your pussy out of Rikki's clothes this second, then sit your
pussy down, well Cissy-Anne get moving."; As I started to strip
Marrisa began to tell me of her plans for me today, her voice a
iron command that I couldn't disobey. 
     Two hours later mother and daughter stand next to each
other.  I look into the smiling face of Cissy-anne, a younger
version of mindless, vapid blond bimbo standing next to me. 
Cissy-anne body measures 44DD-19-40 and is dressed to show it
off.  Cissy-Anne's slut body is covered completely, but the
clothes are so tight, so provocative, that it would almost be
better to be nude.  My calf length emerald green satin suit skirt
is so tightly tapered that I'm forced to walk in tiny, mincing
steps, the outline of the six garter straps of my waist crushing
corset clearly visible.  The skirt has a peplem that accents the
ass portion of the tits and ass look Marrisa has so skillfully
created.  The taunt garter straps hold up my silky, sheer white
nylons that contrast and call attention to the emerald green
satin pumps whose 6 inch gold metallic heels are so sharply
spiked as to inspire disbelief.  The heel height put an
intolerable strain on my feet and I would kick them off if I
could, but of course I can't.  The shoes are held on by delicate
gold chains that wrap tightly around my ankle and close in the
front with tiny heart shaped locks.  My white satin blouse is
cowl necked and obscenely tight.  Like my mother, my erect
nipples are clearly visible. My collarless bolero jacket has 3/4
length sleeves.  My arms are covered with the shoulder length
white satin gloves and inch wide emerald bracelets grace both my
wrists.  My satin gloved hands are demurely joined, my left over
my right with my right hand chastely clasping my gold satin
clutch.  Peaking out from under the cowl neck of my blouse is an
emerald cross.  My earrings are flashing green cascades of
emeralds that fall nearly to my shoulder.  My huge blue eyes
sparkle in mindless wonder from under lashes even longer the my
slut mother's.  My eye makeup is all emerald green and gold and
my lips are painted bright, wet copper gold.  My hair is a wildly
teased mane that rises to impossible heights and flows over my
shoulders and spills down my back like a cloak of spun gold.  I
smile at the world, a sexy pouting come on that screams
scatterbrained, wanton, sensuality.  While mommy looks like a
fundamentalist whore, I look like what I have become, a born
again nymphomaniac.  It's hard to prance around as I do. First,
the gigantic dildo that I willingly shoved up my ass dams in a
two quart enema that makes be feel both horny and drives me mad
with the unfulfilled need for release.  Second the shaved cunt
that hides, replaces, my boy thing is cunning beyond belief.  If
you pulled my skirt off to reveal the emerald green g-string
panties the first thing you would notice is the fact that my
knees are tight bound together. The second is that a fine gold
chain runs from by bound knees and disappears under the g-string. 
Pull down the g-string and the chain is slip knotted over the
head of my inch long clit, so that every step jerks the taunt
chain.  The tied knees would surprise you, but they shouldn't
because, just like mother, I'm tightly bound.  The white satin of
my gloves conceal the fact that the two gloves are one piece,
molded out of a supple, super thin plastic that when expose to
heat turns hard and competently unyielding.  My rings were put on
then the purse was placed in my hands then after a brief
application of a hair dryer on high, I found that my hands and
arms were completely immobile.  A fine gold chain ran from the
back of my gold satin clutch, through a tiny hole in the front of
my skirt and a matching hole in the front of my g-string and then
attached to the chain that punished my clit.  So my pretty gloved
hands hold my pretty purse modestly in front of my pretty pussy. 
My smile is a mirror image of the older bimbo standing next to me
and my soft moans the only sounds that escape my slick, wet lips. 
The plastic teeth that fit over mine are as realistic as hers
are, the hollow rubber cock the lifelike teeth hide, just as
large, the smile the cruel gag forces my face to simulate just as
vacuous, just as provocative.  I know what is to come next.  I've
already watched Marrisa push the soft, sound absorbing wax deep
into Danielle ears.  Push it in until her discreetly bound body
quivered from the sound deading pressure in her now useless
eardrums.  Then I watched Marrisa fit oversized contacts into the
deaf mute woman standing next to me.  Contacts that made her eyes
huge blue sparkling pools of sex appeal while hiding the fact
that the reverse was coated to reflect all the light back out. 
Marrisa turns to me, the can of wax in her left hand, the stick
in her right.  I try to shake my head 'No' but the effect is a
mindless twit flipping her hair.  Soon I too stand in absolute
silence, both speechless and deaf.  Marrisa shows me my new eyes,
tantalizing emerald green.  Then I too am perfect.  Cissy-Anne is
ready to be used.

     



STOPER
     Then, the big event, Jessica off to Betty Ford for treatment
of whatever. After Mommy Dearest delivered my sister to Palm
Springs, Christina was off to Australia for a movie and Monica
was off the Hospital for a 10 day on stretch.  Home alone. 
First, call forwarding sent any call to Jessica's number, and
then a call to Marrisa.  My bra's were way to tight, but as
Marrisa insisted I was dressed from the skin out in Rikki's
finest.  

     Interlude 3

     She was stylishly dressed, a perfect picture of business
elegance, from her hair, fixed just so, upswept, perfectly styled
to the tips of her gray Gucci pumps with the three inch styled
heels, thin enough to be sexy, thick enough to be stylish.  As
she pulled into the long term parking lot, she never noticed the
white conversion van behind her.   Once parked, she unlocked the
trunk and took out the luggage cart.  As she bent over to
retrieve the collapsed carrier, she felt a sharp sting on her
behind as if she'd been slapped on the ass.  She straightened up
and turned.  As she did the world spinned and lights began to
flash.  Then the world was a deep, dark well into which she was
falling.



     When Marrisa arrived, she had a new bottle of muscle
relaxers (I was eating those things like candy.  Into the car and
off to Jessica's.  Jessica owned a huge place just outside Santa
Barbara.  The private drive lead up to a house that's huge and
more then just secluded, the nearest neighbor is over a mile
away.   Once there, I noticed Jessica's Porshe parked in the
garage, wonderful.  While Marrisa unloaded her magic tools it was
simple for me to open the house up and turn the alarm off.  A
quick call to the alarm company and Jessica's code word 'Willi'
(the last time I was up her, I 'accidently' set the alarm off. 
Boy had Jessica been pissed.) confirmed that 'Jessica
DeChombonard' was home.  After bringing everything in, Marrisa
fixed us both a drink and I took a couple of relaxers and lay
back on the couch.  Marrisa wandered off to look at the house.  I
picked up my Walkman and on a whim popped in the last of the
tapes, MaidenSongs X and lay back on the couch.
     What a wonderful and bizarre dream.  I was wrapped in cotton
candy softness.  Asleep, yet awake, I watched Marrisa set up the
head form.  I looked on in my dream state as the screen filled
first with the familiar face of my sister, sans hair, then
watched as Marrisa began to make subtle changes.  The eyes were
widened, the lashes became longer, thicker.  The arch of the brow
higher.  Then permanent liner was added followed by blush.  The
complexion became perfectly smooth, almost doll like.  Jessica's
lips became fuller, fixed in a pouting smile that put Kim
Bassanger to shame.  These beautiful, full lips were then colored
a fabulous candy apple red that simply screamed sex.  The nose
was slimmed, the cheeks raised.  Ears became smaller and flat
against the head.  The face was still Jessica's, except now it
was an ideal version of Jessica.  Every flaw, no matter how
small, was erased, corrected.  An already extravagantly beautiful
woman made perfect.  Then the head shrank and was joined to the
body.  I watched as the breasts were raised, made fuller,
rounded, the nipples larger, more prominent, stiffly erect.  Her
waist shrank just a little, her hips became a tiny bit fuller,
her ass a little rounded. Jessica calves became a little fuller,
her thighs a little smaller.  In short, her body, almost perfect
already, became a perfect sex kitten's body, a living Vargas
drawing fit for a 1950's issue of Playboy.  Then I was being
stripped, Rikki's lovely suit removed from my limp, unresisting
form by gentle hands.  After that my completely hairless body was
being stuffed into some type of form fitting, unpleasantly tight
body suit.  God it was hot, and it felt as if a thousand little
needles were pricking every inch.  The screen flashed the words
'SAVING MATRIX' and went blank, only to redraw itself with the
face of my Mother.  My headphones were removed and the mannequin
like helmet was fitted over my head.  Just before the soft sounds
of MaidenSongs X started again, I thought I heard the sound of a
car in the drive.
     Bright morning light. A hangover that caused me to welcome
death with open, willing arms.  My entire body ached, my face
throbbed, every inch of my body was sore.  I felt a brief sting
on my arm and slowly opened my eyes.  Marrisa/Kathy Ireland's
smiling face looked back.  I shut my eyes again.  "How do you
feel darling?"  I felt some of the soreness disappear. "Awful,
I've never felt like this after a session before, am I OK."  My
voice sounded higher, softer.  I was laying in Jessica bedroom,
covered by one of her satin sheets.  I could feel the silkiness
all over my nude, hairless body.  "Lay still for a little bit." 
I dozed off and on as slowly the soreness left me and my face
stopped throbbing.  Then Marrisa's gentle voice brought me back
full awake.  "Feeling better sweetheart.  Want to get up?"  I
watched as she pulled the sheet off and I sat up.  My head swam
in the lights flashed on and off.  If Marrisa hadn't steadied me,
I'd have collapsed back on the bed.  Then the room stopped
spinning and the lights settled down to steady daylight.  I let
my feet down to the plush, deep shag carpet and stood.  Well
Marrisa helped me as again the room swam and my eyes refused to
focus.  As the blurred picture cleared I saw my reflection in the
mirror.  Jessica looked back at me, but the picture perfect
version of Jessica I'd seen designed, her huge green eyes full in
wonder.  Voluptuous, enormous breast that literally defied
gravity, a flat, tiny waist and full, lush woman's behind, firm,
full thighs and the face of a goddess.  Long, ass length red
hair, fell over my shoulders and down my back in soft waves.  My
fingers ended in inch and a half long perfectly sculpted nails
whose bright red polish matched my pouting lips exactly.  The
only discordant note in this unbelievably lovely female picture
was the cock that hung between my creamy white thighs.  I watched
as the vision in the mirror ran her soft hand up over her muscled
thighs, over her flat stomach up the wonderful mounds that rose
from her chest.  The touch of her fingers the breast flesh was
like an electric shock.  As her perfect, long, slim fingers
gently traced her breast, the cock between her legs began to
rise.  When her nails touched her rock hard straining nipples,
the wonderful cock between her milky legs became fully erect, a
drop of pre-cum glistening form the satin head.  "Yes darling
there real, your not a blond but I think that you'll find your
golden red hair more then luxurious enough to make for forgoing
your 'blond bimbo' dream.  Besides, there always a blond wig when
you fell the need to relax as a ditz."
     Part of me wanted to scream at Marrisa 'What have you done
to me, these tits are real, huge mounds of girl flesh that I'll
never be able to hide.'  But as I stood there, my cock hard and
throbbing from nothing but the delightful touch of my ultra
feminine hands on those same wondrous mounds the dominate part of
my mind softly whispered 'This what you have wanted for so long,
Richard is gone.  Your exactly what men desire, a perfect vision
of erotic fantasies brought to live, a living cartoon vixen that
men dream of and would delight in."  As though I was in a trance
I turned from Marrisa as she stood watching me and walked the
length of Jessica's plush bedroom to the door that lead to her
dressing room.  I opened the door, ignoring the stunning woman
whose reflection smiled in the floor to ceiling mirrors that
covered Jessica's wall.  Doors right left and center.  I went to
the right one.  Jessica's first, huge walk in closet.  Her
lingerie.  Her most personal things.  I opened her panties
drawer.  Inside the drawer on top of all of Jessica's sexy
panties was a artificial pussy, so very life like that I expected
the clit to quiver as I ran my fingers over it.  I picked it up
along with the white lace covered pink satin bag next to it and
returned to the vanity in the dressing area.  I sat my things
down, then turned to the sink.  Opening the satin bag, I removed
an aerosol can and sprayed my clitty-cock with the icy cold,
local anaesthetic  and watched my hard-on wilt. Into a tiny clit
sized nib.  Picking up the prosthesis I forced my nasty boy thing
into the rubber pouch and head to my dick into the false clit. 
My balls were shoved back up into my body cavity.  Some adhesive,
the hair dryer, some of the makeup in the bag, The hair dryer
again.  Every thing put away.  I stood and turned to regard a
fully female Jessica, her sweet cunt misted with a perfect
trimmed bush of golden red pubic hair.  I returned to her closet. 
Let's see, the black satin bikini panties, so brief and tight
that every detail of Jessica's twat was discernible through the
silky thin material.  As I pulled Jessica's panties on, I
marveled at the perfect fit.  Lets see, a corset or bra and
garter belt.  I didn't need a corset, but they are very erotic,
but so are garter belts.  Garter belt.  Her black satin garter
belt.  As I slipped it around my waist and fumbled with the 4
hooks in the back, I wondered about the long nails and how I
would hate to break them.  There, just snug enough on the
smallest size.  Now slip the 6 garter straps under the panties. 
Hose.  Her sheer black ones, the seamed ones.  Yes, I have to be
ever so careful with these nails.  Every time I smooth hose on
over my silky smooth legs I get turned on.  The sheer (pun
intended) female delight in the way my legs feel as the hose mist
the with silky feel of the nylon.  Make sure my seams are
straight.  Yes.  Not a bra, Oh I could pick one that leaves these
magnificent nipples bare.  I look at a black underwired shelf bra
with a sexy front hook closure and thin straps.  I drop it back
in the drawer.  I go the where Jessica's collection of bustiers
hang and take down a black leather strapless one.  It's tight,
just a little. I settle my huge of globes of sweet, firm girl
flesh into the cups to show them off just right.  Everything fit
just right, just tight enough, my obviously erect nipples made
all the more prominent by the thin black leather that just
covered the two inch diameter of my dark brown aureoles.  Now out
to the vanity.  Mauve eye shadow, blended to pink.  My eyeliner
and mascara are permanent (what a time saver).  Then just a hint
of gloss over lips that will always look so very inviting.  My
complexion is china doll perfect, my brows, permanent high
arching lines. A perfect sex kitten face.  It would be so easy to
transform though.  Some more liner, longer false lashes, darker
lipstick.  Oh yes I could make this face look very beautiful and
oh so very cruel.  Now for my hair, a elegant upsweep with lots
of styling mousse and a silky bun in the back.  I leave a pony
tail hanging all the way down my back.  I turned the curling wand
on and as it heats I rummage through the jewelry box.  Jessica
didn't really own costume jewelry.  The large hoops I selected
are real gold.  I loved the heavy feel of the earrings as they
pulled on the lobes of my ears.  A fine gold chain necklace
supported a pendent charm whose delicate gold script read 'Bitch
with an Attitude.'  I looked in the mirror at the gleaming gold
script hanging down between the deep cleavage of my enormous
breasts.  For my right wrist I picked a thick, heavy gold 's'
bracelet, for my left, an Anne Kline gold watch.  The last piece
of jewelry (for now) was a delicate ankle bracelet.  As I
fastened the super fine gold chain over the black, silky sheer
nylon on my right leg I remembered reading a fashion 'expert' who
stated "Only common women wear ankle bracelets." The curling iron
was hot and I did my bangs and set the pony tail in a soft curl.
As I stood I regarded my new, magnificent body and sex kitten
face, whatever I was, I was not common.  Then over to the second
walk in closet.  On the right, wigs, maybe 170 in all, no two in
the same length or color, each on a smiling wig head.  On the
left, shoes and boots, hundreds of them with a purse next to each
pair. Further down were the shelves that held gloves, scarves and
other accessories.  Just looking at the rows of sexy wigs almost
made me cum right there.  The only problem was this was the wrong
closet.  Out and over to the next mirrored door.  Jessica clothes
filled a closet fully 40 feet long by 10 feet wide.  Stretching
down the left side were formals, cocktail dresses and after five
wear.  One the right, suits, skirts, blouses, pants and dresses. 
It was like being in an elegant boutique, except these were all
mine (well for right now).  I already knew just what I wanted.  I
walked down to where Jessica's leather hung (and she had lots)
and selected a cherry red leather suit.  Well it was really more
a blouson jacket with the slightest of peplems and a matching
skirt.  I pulled the skirt up over my slinky nylons and fastened
the button at the waist.  As I zipped the skirt closed, I turned
the free standing full length mirror and regarded the new me. 
The red leather skirt ended about an inch above my knees and fit
like a second skin.  As I watched myself slip into the matching
jacket and fasten the button at the waist, I marveled at the fit. 
Jessica's clothes fit me better then her.  Her body was about a
size 5 waist, but a size in her 10 hips, more or less.  But my
body was a perfect size 5 and a perfect size 10.   Yes, I looked
exactly like my sister, but better.  Back for shoes, red leather
5 inch spiked heels that matched my suit exactly.  The shoes had
pencil thin gold metallic heels that narrowed to points the size
of a nail and ankle straps that locked with tiny gold heart
shaped locks no bigger then my thumb nail. The matching clutch
had a short, kicky gold chain strap that also ran across the top
of the clutch.  I'd fill the purse once I got out to the living
room (god, I hoped Marrisa brought the driver license and credit
cards.)  One last long, loving look at the beautiful smiling red
head in her sexy leather and I left the dressing room went out
through the bed room loving the feel of the tight feel of the
leather skirt across my round, swaying ass.  My sexy, throaty
alto voice sang out "Marrisa, did you bring, oh fucking Jesus!" 
Standing in the living room was Marrisa, next to her was a set of
twins, one pair of which was my mother, both of theses stunning
blonds were dressed in identical, perfectly tailored gray suits,
gray pumps white sheer hose and wore white silk ascot blouses and
gray bracelet length gloves.  Standing next to her was my sister,
dressed exactly like I was.  I stood dumbly, trying to think of
something to say, my panic stricken mind desperate, by breath
coming in great gasps.  One of the two power yuppies walked over
to where I stood, and kissed me gently on the cheek.  "Close your
mouth dear, you look like a fish and don't gasp.  Your going to
hyperventilate and faint"  Dumbly, I closed my mouth and tried,
unsuccessfully for the most part, to get my breathing in check. 
Mothers face looked younger, more an older sister now then the
mother I'd seen off this morning, at least I assumed it was still
Friday.  "Please darling, calm down, there no reason for you to
be afraid, at least not of me.  Slowly and gently, she reached
out and took my hands in her gloved ones and lead me over to the
Louis the 16th settee and sat me down.  Both of our breathtaking
twins stood right were they were unmoving, there purses held
tightly before them, smiling.  "Darling, how much do you remember
of you father?"  Regaining a tiny bit of my composure, I blurted
out; "Only what you told me, that he was a doctor, used cocaine,
lost his license and that he abandoned us."  Her reply rocked me.
"Mommie lied to her darling."  She continued "Ten years ago, your
father not only was a successful plastic surgeon, but had passion
for design.  He couldn't very well handle both and so he married,
a second rate costume disigner, more of a seamtress then a
designer.  He did the designs then sold them through his wife. 
The rewards for her were money and prestige.  Then he fell in
love with his nurse, Monica.  Well hell hath no fury like a woman
scorned.  He was drugged and transformed into a she male.  The
real Monica was killed.  Your fathers gun, with his finger prints
all over, the murder weapon, are in a safe deposit box at the
bank.  The lawyer who handles Mommie's affairs has orders to open
it if anything should ever happen.  Along with the gun is the
location of the real Monica's body.  Add in the fact that your
father was a transvestite, something Mommie has always loathed
and that Monica was pregnant, well you can see that your daddy
had no choice but to disappear and to accede to her demands.  The
real Monica was never missed because Mommie made Daddy into her,
with the help of a gifted, but unlicensed doctor from Mexico. 
What the police would, wrongly, assume is that your father is a
drug addicted sexual psychopath who killed his pregnant mistress
and then coldly took her place.  The truth is Mommie and her
daughter did.  Mommie planed to turn you into a mindless slave
and then pass you off as Monica's retarded daughter.  Mommie
hates everything male, did you know that?"  Dumbly I shook my
head 'No'.  Marrisa came and set down beside me.  "I'm the real
Monica's baby brother, a brother your mother knew nothing about. 
We were both given up for adoption and we had just found each
other when your mother killed my sister, set your father up,
drugged him, framed him and transformed him.  For the last three
years he worked with his sisters clone to effect our revenge on
the two cunts who'd wronged us.  I've wanted to tell you for so
long what was happening, but your not, well weren't, that good an
actress, you'd have spoilt everything. Oh not on purpose, but we
couldn't take the chance. Your mother is, well was, a dangerous
opponent and would have stopped at nothing to protect her
lifestyle.  When Marrisa finished, I stammered; "But why are your
telling me theses things mother, I mean...."  The beautiful blond
sitting next to me let a leather gloved finger shush me. 
Smiling; my mother said "Call me Christine, that what Jessica
always calls her Mother."  "But Mother..."  "Darling, no but's,
I'm Christine and your Jessica."  As she spoke, she gracefully
rose to her feet.  "I've waited a long time for this and now
darling it's time you accepted the wonderful things that have and
are happening.  First, your sister isn't a model, she a
professional dominate, a very well paid one.  She never permits
her clients to have any type of sexual contact with her, so your
clients will be none the wiser if the she-bitch who puts them
through there paces has a sweet secret like you have.  You'll
make a much better Jessica. Your sister was only interested in
the money, while you darling truly want to fulfil others sexual
fantasies.  Think of it, Jessica's clothes, Jessica's house,
Jessica's money and never ever seeing Richard again"  As she
spoke, she slowly and carefully hiked the tapered gray wool
Pendelton skirt up and pulled her matching gray satin panties
down over her garter tabs.  My mother's six inch long, stiffly
erect, penis sprung free from it's hiding place.  understanding
flooded over me as looking up into her beautiful blue eyes I
murmured "Why Mommie, you have a wonderful cock, just like me!"

     So I filled Jessica's shoes while my Monica filled
Christine's, literally.  Mother and daughter became submissive
transformed sex toys and Father and son became wonderful she-
males.  As for the old versions of us, well I found out just what
was behind those locked doors down stairs.  Having full time
korean twins for maids has made both my life easer.  Both Suk and
Toy turned out to be much easer to train and transform (A another
whole story) and have accepted their changed status nicely, not
of course that they have any choice.  Oh they plot revenge in
pidgin english, but the video surveillance system tapes of these
silly fantasies of theirs provide Christine, Marrisa and myself
with untold hours of amusement. 
     I remembered watching as Christine and Marrisa put my twins
through the 'change of life'.  I mean after all, we can't have
them making clear waters cloudy, can we.  Marrisa programmed the
computer for the alterations.  The program serves to guide in the
recreation of the body matrix desired.  The helmet and suit are
lined with thousands upon thousands of tiny, almost microscopic
needles.  The needles can extract body fat or inject it as
desired.  Other, slightly larger, needles are used in insert tiny
implants.  The effect is the same as with larger implants, but no
incisions are made.  The larger needles also serve to remove bone
which is chemically broken down, then sucked out.  Inversely,
plastic can be injected to change bone structure.  The helmet is
capable of chemical face peals.  All in all, the helmet along
with the suit, serve as an instant plastic surgery.  So Suk and
Toy are now 60DDDD-16-38.  Hormone implants keep them lactating
constantly and watching those two milking each other as given
Christine and I many cum spilling sessions together.
     And speaking of Christine, my mother and I do everything
together, everything.  Christine says that the family that cums
together sure has a lot of fucking fun.  Her designs are in
demand more then ever and people say both of us are a lot more
fun to be around.  Eric is making marriage noises and Dee and her
daughter are my faithful weekend slaves/lovers.  And Mr. Rogers
almost had a heart attack when I explained that my sister Rikki
had left to go back east and that I'd be the new tenant.  I sent
the poor man off for an Aids test and when it came back negative
(I knew it would, gave him his first ever bare back blow job.  He
really is a dear.  Needless to say he really does worship the
ground I walk on and so does his sweet, sexy wife.   But then, so
do lots of others, and I love them all for loving the beautiful
woman I've become.



AFTERWORDS

     Well a bit of Deux Ex Machina here. This ends my first and
last effort at linear story writing.  It does put an end to my
never ending write/rewrite cycle, but does not seem to satisfy me
and is a lot more work.  I warped (not a misspelled word, a joke)
things up rather quickly, not because I was tired of Rikki, but I
felt that you, gentle readers, must be.  I'd planned to go into
detail on Dee and her daughter along with the kidnap of Christine
and Jessica.  The only part I had to put in was the fulfilment of
my unpleasant plans for Mr. Rogers slut of a wife (there's
something very Fruedian there, but I'm not sure what).  Eric was
to have some dominate times alone with Rikki and so was Marrisa. 
However this thing is already over 70 typed, single space pages
and I made the editorial decision to end it before people became
to bored.  But all in all, I've enjoyed doing this and if I'm
overwhelmed with response, maybe I expand this, zip it and
Sysop's willing pull a Steven King (The entire Rikki, like he did
with 'The Stand')  To everyone who took the time to write, my
special hugs and thanks.

                    All my love
                         Desiree

******************************
This file came from
Sierra Connection BBS
Serving the Gender Community from Nevada
702-825-4220 8-N-1 28.8 VF (4 Nodes)

Home of the Fiction Story Writing Contest
Home of the Gif Beauty Contest


