|The Transformation Story Archive||The Other Sex|
Bob (Sequel to Guinea Pig)
This story continues the adventures of Joseph Watson. The wealthy man has been is kidnapped and by various frauds declared dead, but in reality he is alive and working on an island, somewhere within twenty degrees north or south of the Equator, owned by the notorious Dr. Justine van Damme. The Doctor and Joe's ex-wife, Gloria, wanted to punish him and get their hands on his money. Toward this end, they applied state of the art pharmaceutical treatments and surgical procedures on Joe. The end result of all that attention was that Joe has been transformed into an exaggeratedly sexy woman in all respects. His subconscious has been programmed with depraved sexual urges to match his sensual new body, but otherwise his consciousness is intact. He knows that he is a man, no matter how he may be forced to appear or act, and resolves never to forget that fact, thus making his punishment much more effective. Joe now makes his way through life as a waitress on van Damme's private island.
Due to Joe's lack of legal acumen and foresight, his ex-wife Gloria was appointed executrix of his extensive estate, but only until his illegitimate son, Robert Watson, turns twenty one and inherits it all. Gloria likes being wealthy and powerful and has no intention of relinquishing the fortune to Robert, who has vowed to ruin her financially when he gains control over his inheritance. Justine van Damme has contracted with Gloria to effect a plan which will result in Gloria's getting the money, and Robert being maneuvered out of her way. Permanently.
"Gloria, may I have twenty dollars?" Bob Watson asked his guardian.
"What ever for Robert dear?"
Bob was really angry. He would shortly be inheriting his late fathers millions, but for now he was reduced to begging this bitch for money. "Someday she'll get hers," Bob thought to himself.
"I'm going out with some of the guys tonight for pizza and a movie."
"O.K. dear, I'll get it for you."
Bob really resented Gloria Watson, his father's ex-wife, who was administering his estate. She went out of her way to make life hell for Bob. Bob had grown up with his natural mother and the only contacts they'd ever had with Joe Watson were support checks and the occasional birthday card. Despite this, or maybe out of guilt over it, Joe Watson had left the bulk of his estate to Bob.
Bob had left home at eighteen, but shortly thereafter came under the control of Gloria. Until he turned twenty one, she was in charge of his life. He knew that there was a clause in the will that allowed her to retain control of the estate if she could prove that he was incapable of managing his own affairs, and he suspected that she'd like nothing better than to do so. What really got to him was the fact that she wasn't hardly any older than he was, yet she treated him like a child.
Gloria had moved Bob in with her so that she could exercise ever increasing control over him. As Bob Weinstein had told her: "Don't let him think for himself. Get him used to taking orders from you and being obedient to you."
Gloria returned with the twenty."Here you go Robert. Oh, by the way, I have a new girl coming tomorrow to be my secretary and social assistant. Her name is Monica and she'll be living with us. I'm sure that you'll want to be here to meet her." **************
"I'm sorry Joe, it's not that you are not a good waitress, it's just that we are over manned, our budget has been reduced, and you've been here the shortest amount of time. You must understand. I'm sure that Denice in personnel can fix you up with another job."
Back on the island Joe was worried; he had just been fired from his job as a waitress. Thoughts of being sent home to the U.S. and having to prostitute himself ran through his pretty head. He practically ran to the personnel office.
"I'm sorry Joe, there's just no positions open that you're qualified for."
"Please. Can't you check again. I'll do anything."
"Well, let me check the files. Hmmm... It seems that Rhonda is leaving us, but no. You wouldn't want to do that."
"What's that?" Joe said, ready to grab at anything.
"It seems that Dr. van Damme's personal housekeeper is retiring, leaving a vacancy."
"I can certainly keep house." Said Joe.
"There's a lot more to this job than just changing sheets."
"I don't care, just try me out at it."
"Let me call Dr. van Damme and see if she's agreeable."
After a conversation on the telephone Denice told Joe, "she sounded skeptical that you could handle it, but she's willing to give you a chance. You need to go see Mrs. Johnson and Donna for the necessary training.
"Wow, what a looker," thought Bob, staring at Monica.
It was obvious to the tall blonde that the young man was smitten with her. She would certainly turn that to her advantage. In her most seductive voice, Monica told Bob, "I'm so pleased to meet you. If there is ever anything I can do for you,just let me know." ************
"That little pig." Thought Monica.
Bob had grabbed her ass as he walked passed. He continually made a nuisance of himself around her, never missing an opportunity to touch or rub up against her. Monica just smiled sweetly at him, thinking to herself "he'll get his."
Monica played the boy like a fish and, before long, had him in bed and believing that he had seduced her. Bob wasn't a very good lover. Monica was just getting into the swing of things when he came, rolled off of her, and went to sleep; thanks to the drug she had slipped him. Looking at Bob's wilted cock, Monica remembered how it had felt when she still had one. She recalled how she had introduced Bob's father, Joe, to being on the receiving end of a stiff cock, after his transformation into a sexy babe. Feeling horny, Monica got dressed, thinking, "I sure as hell won't be getting any satisfaction here tonight. Might as well go out and pick up a real stud."
After donning a provocative outfit, Monica put a tape in a player and turned it on. It would play softly all night into the pillow under Bob's head, filing it with radical notions. Looking at the sleeping boy, she was curious, thinking "I wonder if he'll turn out as pretty as his dad?"
On her way out, Monica ran into Gloria.
"Hi Monica, would you care to join me in a drink?"
"I'm sorry Mrs. Watson, but I was just going out. Can I take a rain check?"
"Gee ... I really hoped you'd stay home with me tonight. I have some tapes that make very interesting viewing and you're in some of them."
Monica could see that Gloria was more than a little drunk, and more than a little horny. "O.K. Why not?"
The tapes turned out to include one of Monica screwing Joe. Gloria was very disappointed to discover that Monica's magnificent cock was gone forever. However, the evening wasn't a total loss as they wound up introducing themselves to girl on girl love making. Both of them discovered lesbian sex to be as exciting and as satisfying as anything else they had ever done, if not more so.
When Bob awoke the next morning, Monica was there sleeping beside him. The young man was certain that he had found true love. **********
Joe was washing the breakfast dishes, when Dr. van Damme called out to him, on her way out the door, "Joe I'll be home at six with two guests. The cook has the menu, we'll eat in the blue room."
"Yes, ma'am." Said Joe.
Donna had trained Joe well in his new duties. It hadn't taken him long to discover that he wasn't going to be a housekeeper, instead, he was being trained as Dr. van Damme's maid. Joe had to be up, washed, and dressed by seven a.m., in uniform of course. The new uniform wasn't that bad; it was a lot more comfortable than his waitress getup since Dr. van Damme didn't make him wear the hated minimizer bra and a girdle.
Every morning Joe would don an underwire bra, which cradled his abundant breasts in comfort, nylon panties, black panty hose, black pumps, and a white satin blouse which was tucked into a black taffeta skirt that fell to his knees. It was neither tight nor revealing and Joe was totally at ease in it. He'd half expected to be dressed in some skimpy little maids dress. Oh he was alright, but only for special occasions.
At seven o'clock, Joe would enter Dr. van Damme's room with her breakfast and awaken her. While she ate, Joe would draw her bath. Then while she bathed, Joe would make her bed, lay out her clothing, and take the dirty breakfast dishes to the kitchen and wash them. It wasn't a particularly arduous job and he had plenty of free time.
Joe lived with the Doctor and stayed at her house most of the time, preferring to avoid other people, especially men. Ever since his changes, Joe had discovered that he couldn't trust himself around men, somehow he'd developed an insatiable appetite for sex with them. Joe had no clue that his newfound promiscuity was a permanent part of his psychological make-up, only that he got extremely aroused sexually around men. So he avoided the intense embarrassment that his ensuing sexual antics caused, by keeping to himself in Dr. van Damme's compound.
Joe had a busy day ahead of him today. In addition to his normal duties, he would have to polish the silver and get dressed up for tonight. **********
"Oui Madame." Said Joe.
If there were any strangers in the house, Joe was addressed as Yvonne. Dressed as a French maid, he had to act the part. Mrs. Johnson had taught him to pronounce French words with his artificial voice box and his French vocabulary was at least the equal of his English, which had been purposefully limited.
In preparation for tonight's little soiree, Joe had donned a black satin and lace lingerie set consisting of; panty, garter belt and push-up bra. He attached sheer white stockings to his garters and slipped on a pair of pink satin pumps with five inch heels. Over this he pulled on layers of stiff white petticoats, followed by a low-cut, pink velvet French maid's uniform. Joe's hair was in a ponytail and he tied a pink satin ribbon in a big bow to hold it back. A little white lace apron and a choker and wristlets, of white satin bordered with lace, completed his Yvonne costume.
Joe curtseyed carefully, knowing that his stocking tops would be revealed if he did not, and he didn't want to reveal any more of himself than was absolutely necessary.
"These are my guests, Hector and Miguel Gonzales."
Joe curtseyed gracefully to them, "Bon soir, Messieurs. May I get you drinks?"
The two brothers were tall, dark, and handsome. Joe felt the inevitable reaction of his body and averted his eyes from the men, trying to concentrate on the task at hand.
Other than to take note of Joe's exceptional beauty, the Gonzales brothers paid him no more mind than they would any servant. Joe overheard their conversation as he served the meal and was able to piece together that the Gonzales brothers were frequent visitors to Dr. van Damme's island, came from somewhere in South America, were fantastically wealthy, and performed many services for the Doctor including acting as her bankers. After the table had been cleared, Joe was dismissed. He ran up to his room, where he masturbated urgently, grateful that he escaped performing like a wanton slut with the two brothers.
Over cigars and brandy the Gonzales chatted idly with the doctor. Finally Miguel spoke up. "This little thing Yvonne; she is perfection itself. Is she by any chance available?"
"Certainly. I shall have her report to your cottage, where she'll be waiting for you. I must inform you though that she is, or to be more precise, was a man."
"Madre de Dios! You are kidding me."
"Not at all. I have some very interesting tapes of her, I really should say his, progress. You see, we have punished Joe by ensuring that he can never forget that he was once a complete man. Would you care to view them?"
"Oh no Doctor, I trust your word implicitly, but this makes the prospect of a dalliance even more interesting. Let me ask this, is your maid available for permanent acquisition?"
"I'm afraid not, you see Joe, as he is called, doesn't know it, but he's still being trained. Eventually he will be returned to his ex-wife, who is responsible for what has happened to him."
Hector could no longer remain silent. "I too was considering toying with this one. Perhaps brother we should settle for lesser fare?"
"Ah, but of course." replied Miguel.
To Dr. van Damme's questioning look Miguel answered. "The two of us never share or have anything to do with a woman or any other thing, such as your little Joe in this case, that the other desires. We avoid the pitfalls of jealousies that way. Now if Joe had a sister we could purchase them both and return to our homeland with them."
At this last Dr. van Damme looked up smiling, "Funny you should bring that up. My personal motto is 'anything is possible', and in this situation anything may indeed happen. I shall remember your interest in Joe, if circumstances should happen to change."
"So how are you guys going to handle Bob?" Gloria asked Monica one evening, after a session of torrid love making.
"Well we are going to use a variation of the technique we used to get Joe to wear dresses without rebellion. Every night as he sleeps, his mind under the influence of certain drugs that Dr. van Damme's associates have developed, a speaker in Bob's pillow is reprogramming his subconscious. When we are done, Bob will have the mind set of a transsexual."
"So how does that help me?"
"One of two possible ways. After his programming is made effective and has taken over, Bob will do anything to get what he needs, including even signing away his inheritance if we handle it right. If not, when he starts trying to get what he needs on his own, his actions will allow you to have him declared incompetent. Either way you will get his money."
"And just what is it he'll be needing?" asked Gloria.
"Why a sex change of course."
"Do you mean to tell me that you can make Bob want to be a woman?"
"We certainly can and not only that, but I heard rumors Bob Weinstein has developed a way to make the body change itself, and that one of his corresponding associates, a Dr. Mason, has had great success experimenting with his concepts.
"But I don't want to hurt him."
"Oh we won't punish Bob like we did Joe. Bob will want and truly enjoy what is going to happen to him. Trust me, this really is the best way of getting him out of your hair."
"So when does this plan begin."
"Bob might be ready now. All we need is a chance to get him dressed in women's clothing, which will unlock his programming."
Gloria thought for a minute. "That's easy enough, listen to this ..." *************************
Bob felt funny, he'd just shaven his entire body. He knew this was peculiar, but for some reason it didn't bother him. Gloria was throwing a Mardi Gras party and Monica had talked him into going disguised as a girl. "I'll take care of everything." She had said. "You'll probably win first prize."
Now he stood around naked and hairless, waiting for his lover to dress him. Monica started with a little black thing, which she pulled up around Bob's hips. It resembled a g-string and she tucked his cock back under it, then tied it in place. The tight garment really compressed his cock and balls. Looking at himself, Bob couldn't see any sign of his manhood. "It's called a gaff Bob. It will keep you safe from discovery."
Bob winced as Monica tightened the laces of what she called a ribbon corset. It relentlessly squeezed his waist into definite female proportions. Spandex panties were pulled up and Bob discovered that they were padded, producing the illusion of a woman's hips and ass on his male body. Over this were placed white satin panties.
"Why do I have to wear these panties, no one will be looking under my dress?"
"Bob, it's a necessary component of the image you want to present to your audience. In order to project an air of femininity, you have to feel feminine, and wearing dainty lingerie will help you do just that."
Sheer, light colored panty hose were pulled up Bob's hairless legs. A strapless long line bra was placed around his chest and hooked up. Pads were fitted into in the cups of the bra. Bob saw in the mirror that he presented a very feminine profile. For some reason it seemed natural.
A petticoat was held out and Bob stepped into it. It was drawn up, positioned about his waist, and fell to mid-calf. The tea-length dress, which Monica had selected for Bob to wear, was a delicate confection of light turquoise acetate taffeta. Monica helped Bob get it over his head, then she zipped it up for him. The dress had a low scoop neck and sported a big bow over Bob's padded fanny. Matching satin pumps were slipped on Bob feet and Monica went to work on his make-up.
Monica placed a long brown wig, the same shade as his hair, over Bob's head and brushed it out. Stepping back she looked at her handiwork: eyebrows, plucked thin, arched over heavily made-up eyes while bright red lips smiled at her. Bob looked wonderful.
"He'll make such a pretty girl," thought Monica. ****************
At the party Bob was a smash. He looked just like a young girl at her prom and no one would believe otherwise. The longer he remained dressed as he was, the better Bob felt about it. It felt entirely natural to be dressed as he was; he felt free and at peace with himself.
Bob Watson couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. For about a month now, he had no appetite, had lost weight and interest in sex with Monica, and had been very stressed out. Gloria sent him to a doctor who had found nothing wrong with him, but referred him to the psychiatrist that he was waiting to see, suspecting that whatever it was bothering him, might be psychosomatic. Bob looked at the name on the diplomas on the wall; Dr. Robert Weinstein.
Bob had been talking to the Doctor for about ten minutes, when the Doctor suggested hypnosis. "I guess I'll try anything," was Bob's reply.
Bob didn't know what to expect. He was given a shot and told to look at a strobe light. He did so, then looked at the doctor, "When will I be hypnotized?"
"You have been Bob, you were under for about an hour."
Bob was shocked, he had noticed no passage of time. "What did you find out? Will I be o.k.?"
"Bob, perhaps I should call your guardian in to discuss this."
"No. Please Doctor. Whatever is wrong, getting Gloria involved will only make it worse."
"O.K. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but deep in your psyche there is a woman trying to get out."
"You are what we call a transsexual. We have no idea what causes this, but your subconscious mind is that of a female. You have repressed this trait so deeply, and it is so strong, that the resulting psychological conflict is manifesting itself by disrupting your health."
Bob could not believe what he'd just been told. Then he remembered the night he had dressed as a girl for the party, and how he had felt about it. "Could wearing a dress cause this to happen to me?"
"No. This has always been in you. However, wearing women's clothing could upset the delicate psychological balance of someone, like yourself, who had been successful in suppressing his transsexuality. Why? Have you done so recently?"
"Well, I dressed up like a girl for a costume party about a month ago."
"Yes, that could have set you off."
"So what can I do to get over this?"
"Bob, I am afraid that it is not that simple. Years of research with thousands of transsexuals has shown us that there is only one thing that you can do and experience permanent relief, but I do not think that you are quite ready to talk about that just yet. You first have to get over the shock of finding out what you are. To help you with that, I would like to refer you to a colleague of mine, with much more experience in these matters, at The Institute for the Amelioration of Gender Dysphoria."
Bob was despondent, every day his anxious longing to be a woman grew in intensity, with no relief in sight. He had been well received at The Institute, and the director, Leslie van Damme, had interviewed him personally as a favor to Bob Weinstein.
Bob had found Dr. van Damme to be a tall stunning blonde, he also found out that she was a man. Bob discovered that he was not alone. Indeed, the Institute had helped hundreds of others like himself to become the women that they knew they were. Bob's tests showed that he was definitely a transsexual and the Institute would accept him into it's program.
The road to womanhood was a long one, stretching over years. Changing his sex would be a momentous and irreversible decision; Bob would therefore be required to complete many prerequisites, such as hormone therapy, which would ultimately result in him living and working as a woman for a year to prove he was serious about becoming one, before he would even be considered for surgery. The problem was that Bob couldn't wait years. He needed relief now, before he went insane.
At dinner one night. Gloria confronted him. "What's been troubling you Robert dear? You just mope around the house all the time. Is there anything I can do to help you?"
"No, I'm afraid not, but you might as well know what the Doctor said. I am what they call a transsexual. My mind is the mind of a woman and if I don't do something about it soon I will go crazy."
"So what is it that you want to do?" Asked Monica.
"Well it is not so much want as need. Science cannot change my mind to match my body, but they can change my body to match my mind, so eventually I plan to undergo sex reassignment surgery."
Gloria grinned. Bob missed it and she was able to regain her composure before saying; "Do you mean a sex-change? Isn't that a little extreme dear?"
"Perhaps it is," Bob replied, "but it's my only hope. They can't even help me anytime soon. It takes forever to get ready for the surgery."
Then, per her instructions, Monica chipped in, "I read somewhere that they do sex changes in other countries where there's no wait and supposedly they do a much better job."
"Really?" Asked Bob, his curiosity piqued.
"Yes, except I read that it is horribly expensive."
"That's O.K. I have plenty of money."
"I don't think so young man." Interjected Gloria."You don't get your money for another three years, and if you think that I will approve of you doing such a thing to yourself, or give you the money for it, you are seriously mistaken."
Bob was close to tears, to be given new hope and then have it taken away so quickly, was almost too much for him to bear. Then he saw what he must do.
"Please Gloria, you have no idea how much this means to me; it is life or death. I need to be a woman. I know that you don't get anything once I inherit and I'm sorry for what I said to you about screwing you over when I get my money. I apologize. If you'll only let me do this, I promise that I'll give you all the money you could possibly want."
Bob was in tears now; he got up and went to Gloria's chair, kneeled and took her hand. "Please Gloria, I beg of you, save me, help me become a woman."
"Oh I will Robert. Don't you worry," thought Gloria. "You'll get your wish in spades."
Gloria looked at Bob for what to him seemed an eternity. "Perhaps we can work something out." She said at last.
Summoned to Dr. van Damme's office, Joe curtseyed, then stood at attention while she finished reading a letter. Working as a maid had made Joe meek and docile, and the subliminal tapes played to him at night reinforced his newfound submissiveness.
"Joe, it seems that I have to go away for a spell on business. I was going to leave you here, but your ex-wife Gloria has asked that you serve her while I am busy. I think this would be good training for you, and an excellent introduction back into the real world. You will find clothing laid out for you in my room. Take this suitcase and this." She handed Joe a passport.
Like the good maid that he had become, Joe curtseyed. "At once Madame."
Joe picked up the suitcase and left, filled with mixed emotions; excited to be going home, relieved that he wouldn't be forced into prostitution, yet depressed at the thought of serving Gloria as hr maid.
Joe looked at the passport he'd been given . It was French. Opening it, he saw a photograph of a blonde woman in it. Then it dawned on him; that was his picture in it, as he looked now. He glanced at the name; Yvonne LaEsclave. Joe's French lessons hadn't gone far enough to allow him to understand his new title.
In Dr. van Damme's room, Joe found a pile of clothing with a note on it which directed him to strip and get dressed in them. Before he did, Joe looked in the suitcase he'd been given. It was filled with women's clothing. Joe stripped. He put on the apparel selected for him; a matching white panty and underwire bra set of nylon, white panty-hose, a white nylon half-slip,, white pumps, a short sleeved white silk blouse, and a wool suit in navy. Joe zipped up the straight skirt.
"This outfit is pretty nice." Thought Joe, brushing out his bangs, the rest of his long hair fell gracefully down his back. The suit didn't hide his well-endowed figure, but neither did it expose his body to the world, as so many of his outfits did. Joe looked at his pretty face in the mirror, realizing how much time and effort he had been saved by never having to apply cosmetics, thanks to the tattoos on his face.
Carrying the suitcase and the jacket that matched his skirt, Joe went back to the Doctor's office.
Joe and Dr. van Damme were in a golf cart being taken to the airstrip on the island. When they arrived, Joe saw a private jet, engines running, waiting to take off. Once he had fastened his seat belt, Joe was given some pills to take. Allegedly to prevent airsickness, they instead knocked Joe out for the duration. He'd never be able to describe the island where he'd been held or it's location.
Joe awakened. He had no idea how long he had been out. Dr. van Damme was speaking to him. "Remember, you are Yvonne. Speak only French. You will wind up in serious trouble otherwise."
Joe knew better than to disobey her, He deplaned with the Doctor and approached customs. It became obvious to Joe that the customs inspector had eyes only for his beauty when his passport was perfunctorily stamped without so much as a glance. Joe kept his conversation limited to "oui", "non", and "merci monsieur", and before he knew it he was in a limousine headed for Manhattan.
Joe winced inwardly as the limo pulled up in front of his old house. He'd loved the old brownstone and, while he hadn't planned on returning to it, he never once figured that he'd come back to work in it as a maid. The surprises just kept coming as Monica opened the door to greet them. "Hello Doctor. Joe."
They exchanged greetings and Joe wandered into his old digs, finding that they had been totally redecorated. In much the same manner that Joe had been changed, the old masculine decor was gone, replaced by an ethereal feminine interior. Before he could go any further, Monica intercepted him and took him to his room, which had been the servants quarters. It was very femininely decorated. Joe looked in the closet. It was full of maid's uniforms.
"Now Joe." Said Monica. "Let me tell you the ground rules. You must at all times act like a perfect servant. You must pretend never to notice what goes on around here, and above all never say a word without being spoken to first."
"Why are they doing this to me?" Joe asked Monica.
"I think you know the answer to that Joe. Just be careful or you'll be beaten severely."
Monica went on to explain to Joe what was what, and how he was expected to behave. When she was done, Joe undressed, washed, and went to bed where he spent a fitful night.
The next morning Joe showered, then got dressed in one of the uniforms from the closet. He discovered that all of the lingerie provided for him was the same; black satin bikini panties with matching garter belts and push-up bras. Joe hooked up the black stockings that he'd found in a drawer, put on one of the many pairs of the black patent high-heeled pumps that were in the closet, and knowing what was expected of him, stepped a petticoat and pulled it up to his waist. The black satin maid's uniform followed. Joe figured that he'd be wearing one all time now since that was all there was in the way of clothing in the closet. Joe zipped up the dress. His cleavage was exposed and outlined in white lace. The short skirt was flounced out by the petticoats and with every move revealed his stocking tops. None of this was new to Joe, as he tied on the white satin apron with a big bow in back and then rolled his hair up in a bun and put on the white cap, but so far he'd only had to dress like this occasionally. It would be a new experience to dress like regularly. Naturally, the transvestite responses programmed into Joe's mind were tickled pink as he minced out to the kitchen.
Bob woke up. As he did every morning, he stripped off his negligee and went to the mirror. "No changes yet." He thought, disappointed as he examined himself.
Bob had started on hormones and couldn't wait to see signs of the development to come. He looked at his hair. Long for a man, the brown locks were still to short to be styled and permed. Bob was eagerly looking forward to his first trip to a beauty salon. Meanwhile, Monica and Gloria were giving him a crash course in being a woman. As her price for letting him do this, Gloria had made Bob sign some papers in front of her lawyers, but he didn't care; he was on his way. Bob looked down at his shriveled penis. He had no use for it anymore and, some days, it was all he could do to keep from grabbing a knife and cutting it off.
Bob dressed, putting on the corset and padding which would give him a feminine figure until the hormones did. The thought, that some day the pads in his bra would be replaced by his own breasts pleased Bob no end. Over his lingerie, he pulled up panty hose, dropped a slip over his head, and stepped into a peach linen dress that buttoned up the front. He buttoned the dress up, put on the matching belt, and then stepped into a pair of white sling-back pumps. Bob applied some make-up and checked his fingernails, long and painted red, they were good for now. He put earrings in his recently pierced ears, selected a matching necklace and bracelet, brushed mousse into his hair, and looked at himself. Yes, he could pass for a fashionable young woman, he did everyday.
Bob was excited. Today he was to meet Leslie's sister, Justine, who, he'd been told, had been able to arrange surgery for him overseas somewhere. Bob sprayed on some perfume and went down to breakfast.
"It's a good thing I learned to cook at Dr. van Damme's." Joe thought as he scrambled eggs, fried bacon, and made toast. Gloria didn't have a cook and he had been told that he would have to not only serve, but also cook breakfast, lunch, and sometimes the rare dinner that she ate at home.
As instructed, Joe had set the table for four and one by one they came in and sat down; Gloria, Monica, the Doctor, and the girl whose name, he had been told, was Roberta.
Bob looked at the new maid. She was all tits and ass in her revealing little uniform. He thought to himself "she looks like a little tramp, but if that's what Gloria wants ...?"
Bob introduced himself to her,"Good morning, I am Roberta, you must be Yvonne?"
Bob was surprised to see the maid curtsey to him and say "oui Mademoiselle. Bon jour. Would you like some cafe?"
"Well at least she's well trained." He thought.
The four of them left immediately after breakfast and Joe went about his chores. He made up all the beds and while vacuuming the living room, stopped to stare at his picture on the mantle; a picture of him as a man that is. It was a copy of the same picture that Joe carried in his little gold locket which he usually wore when not in uniform. A tear came to his eye, but he just brushed it aside and, like a good little maid, went on with his work.
The next day, Joe was told to pack up the Doctor's clothing, then help Roberta pack for a trip the two of them would be taking. As he folded Roberta's lingerie, Joe tried to put his finger on what was so peculiar about her. In the drawer, under her panties, Joe discovered just what it was that was different about her; he looked at a birth certificate in the name of Robert Watson, with him, Joseph Watson, listed as the father.
Roberta was a man!
She was his son!
It became clear to Joe what was going on; Gloria was pulling some kind of stunt to try and get her hands on Bob's inheritance. Just then Bob walked in.
Bob looked at Yvonne. Good, she was almost done packing his things. He was shocked to hear her say; "you're Robert aren't you?"
"Yes, what of it?" He said, irritated at being read by a servant.
Bob was surprised as the girl came to him, with a look of horror on her pretty face. "You must leave now. Get out of Gloria's clutches. Go now before ... "
"What is going on here!"
Monica and Gloria were standing in the door to Bob's room.
"Give me that." Said Gloria, grabbing Bob's birth certificate from Joe's hands. She returned it to Bob.
"You had better be more careful where you put things like this. And as for you, you insolent wench," she addressed Joe, "Monica will demonstrate what happens to an upstart maid who sticks her nose in where it does not belong."
Joe was terrified and there was no fight in him. Monica grabbed his arm, pulled him over to the bed, and sat down. "I'm sorry Yvonne, but I warned you."
The sex changed girl demonstrated her remaining strength as she held Joe still with one hand. "Pull up your skirts." She commanded.
Fully submissive now, Joe did as ordered; holding his skirt and petticoats up around his waist. Monica reached out, pulled his panties down to his ankles, and threw him over her lap face down. "Roberta, give me your hairbrush."
Joe was humiliated. To be thrown over Monica's knees like a little girl, with his plump womanly ass revealed for all to see. Terror replaced his humiliation as soon as the first blow fell. You see, Joe had resolved to take his spanking like a man, but he was no longer a man and was shortly bawling his eyes out.
Bob watched as Yvonne was beaten soundly for her indiscretion; she was wailing in a high voice, and her legs were kicking wildly, hampered by the panties around her ankles. Finally, with her ass glowing cherry red, she was released.
"Now pull up your panties and get back to work." Said Monica.
Bob watched as Yvonne put her panties back on, smoothed out her dress, and turned to leave.
"Aren't you forgetting something."
The maid turned, curtseyed to Monica, and said "merci Maitresse," then fled the room crying.
"That was pretty severe," thought Bob, "I hope she learned a lesson from it."
Joe watched from an upstairs window, with tears in his eyes, as Bob and Dr. van Damme got in the limousine and left for the airport.
At the airport, while they waited to board the private jet, Dr. van Damme introduced Bob to their traveling companions; a good looking woman who was introduced as Virginia Mason and two teenaged girls; Melissa Walters and Stephanie Grenwald. Bob felt comfortable with the sophisticated and educated Virginia, but those two girls! They were so trampy with their bleached blonde hair, short skirts, and tight blouses. All they seemed interested in was flirting with every man who crossed their path. Virginia explained to Bob that the two girls had just turned eighteen and had never been away from home before. She also told him that she was a doctor and that they were patients of hers. Virginia had taken them on this trip because she felt sorry for them.
"They are both high school dropouts and the future doesn't hold much for them except as a waitress, wife, or dancer. Anyway they go they're trapped and I wanted them to have a little excitement before that happens."
Bob considered how thoughtful that was of her.
Once they were back on the island, Dr. van Damme conferred with Dr. Mason and Bob Weinstein. "I must tell you two that these results far exceed any expectations I had. I have examined Melissa and Stephanie and cannot find any evidence that they were once males."
"That's the beauty of it, there isn't any." Exclaimed Dr. Mason. "I have conducted extensive tests on them and they appear to be female down to the cellular level."
"My next question is, What's to stop somebody else from hypnotizing them and changing them again."
Bob Weinstein answered. "The changes can only be initiated while under the influence of the drug. When the drug wears off, after about a day, the changes continue but can no longer be affected by further hypnotic suggestion. It also appears that the human body has an increasing resistance to the drug. In other words, repeated applications have less and less effect until finally the body ignores any further suggestions. Take Melissa and Stephanie for instance, Dr. Mason conducted repeated experiments on them and after a couple of tries the drug would do nothing."
"So they are girls permanently?"
"For the rest of their lives."
"How long have they been like this, and how long did the changes take Virginia?"
"They took about six months to stabilize as females and I have had them under observation for going on two years. I think that the six months can be shortened considerably. You see I performed no surgery on them, especially as regards the male organs, thinking that they would retract into the body and become ovaries. However the boys developed ovaries separately and the testicles eventually atrophied and disappeared. I believe if the testicles were removed before commencing the procedure, that the changes would occur more rapidly, without the body still producing male hormones."
"Next time we'll try that. Bob, when can we start experimenting with it here?"
"That's the only problem Doctor. The drug Dr. Mason used was a very rare one and I didn't expect these effects. I thought only that we could fool the body into regrowing a lost limb and things like that. These changes only occur when the drug is administered in massive doses, and during her trials Dr. Mason used most of it up."
"Can't you get some more."
"I don't know. It's extracted from a rare flower that grows only in the amazon. With the loss of the rain forests over there, my sources haven't been able to locate sufficient quantities of them. We have plantations where we are trying to cultivate the plant, but until we're successful, which may take over five years, we are limited to the stock on hand."
"How much is that?"
"Based on what Dr. Mason tells me, enough for possibly four changes."
"Damn the bad luck." Said Dr. van Damm staring off into space. She understood the potential of such a drug.
"What about Stephanie and Melissa?" Asked Dr. Mason.
"I have their parents hypnotized also and they believe their daughters have left home and moved to Los Angeles."
"Are they of any further use to you?"
"No, not really."
Dr. van Damme was in a sour mood over the unobtainable drug and this may have accounted for her next action. "Hmmm. Do this. Virginia, remove any psychological blocks that you may have put on them, I want them to know who they are, what they have become, and be fully aware of their surroundings. Bob, have Dr. Brenner give them the permanent hair treatment; long and blonde. I want this done by Saturday when the fuel tanker arrives. When it leaves, I want them on it. They will be a little gift from me to our supplier. Those Arabs do so love blonde girls. Meanwhile, I want to see this effect of your's firsthand, and I have just the subject for it"
Dr. Mason, scrubbed up and dressed in surgical greens, looked down at the almost comatose youth on the operating table. "Hello Bob, remember me? I'm Dr. Mason and I'll be performing your surgery today."
"Already affected by the anesthesia, Bob could only grunt at her."
Bob was put under and castrated. In the recovery room, the other drugs were administered and Dr. Mason then induced, what was already being referred to as, the Weinstein Effect on Bob and he commenced a one-way journey to womanhood.
Bob came out from under the fog of anesthesia and smiled to himself. "Well that's that," he thought, "it's all over now," little realizing that, for him, it was just beginning.
Bob couldn't feel anything below his waist, but that didn't bother him. He knew that he was a complete woman now. A lot of what had happened to him since he arrived here, and he never did learn where exactly here was, seemed a bit excessive and not exactly what he had expected. Take, for example, his hair, his entire body had been depilated, and his head covered with long blonde artificial stuff that couldn't be cut. Or his fingernails, they also had been removed and replaced with long red artificial ones which also couldn't be cut. Or his feet, they had been operated on and made smaller, but now only felt right in high heels. Not to mention his face, on which make-up had been tattooed.
That was all O.K. though. Bob was overjoyed with the other changes to his body. He spoke in a lovely soprano voice, thanks to the operation on his larynx; it didn't bother him very much that he had to learn to speak all over again. Bob sported the lush body of a young woman; wide hips, tiny waist, full breasts, and at long last, the genitals to match it. Bob knew that the work here was top-notch, any physician examining him would conclude with confidence that he had been born a girl. He laid back, satisfied at last. Before he returned to unconsciousness, Bob thought he felt something pulling on his earlobe.
Dr. van Damme considered Robert Watson. His transformation into a beautiful woman was complete. In many of the procedures, such as body contouring and hair implantation; the same programs used on his father, still stored in computer memory, were used on him with predictable results. Father and son were now, for all intents and purposes, twins.
It irked the doctor that Robert should enjoy what had been done to him. In her opinion, a man who had to be forced into womanhood shouldn't receive any satisfaction from it. She had debated removing the psychological programming which had driven Bob to change his sex and allowing him to awaken to discover that he had irreversibly turned himself into a blonde bombshell. "I made a deal though and I can't renege on it," she thought, "but perhaps I can work out something fitting."
Bob examined himself in the mirror. "You sure are some babe." He said to himself. It never failed to amaze him what a gorgeous creature he'd been turned into. He had expected, like most of the transsexuals he'd met at the Institute, to wind up looking like a masculine woman, but there was not even so much of a hint of his old maleness in the sexy girl who looked back at him.
Dr. van Damme watched Bob admire himself. "He really can't tell that he's not yet fully changed?"
Dr. Mason told her; "No. All he sees is the image we have put in his mind which he will eventually conform to."
Bob pulled pink satin panties up over his flat crotch. He liked the way it looked in panties now and had come to really enjoy wearing the apparel appropriate to his new sex. He settled his large breasts into the cups of his bra and pulled it up. Bob thought about his new wardrobe, every item in it made him appear as if he was going to a cocktail party or a formal dance. Dr. van Damme had also considered his wardrobe, and the money she saved by giving him Joe's old one. They were both the same size.
Bob wondered about something he hadn't considered until now; he really wasn't attracted to men at all. It surprised him that he would want so much to be a woman and, now that he was one, lack all interest in sex. He decided to ask Dr. van Damme about it during his interview with her scheduled for today.
Bob buttoned the back of his dress. It was the least exotic one he could find. It was black with a white floral design on it, made of very thin faille, with a full flowing skirt. He belted it, glad that he was able to find something that wasn't tight and revealing. Bob glanced in the mirror again, his appearance was flawless; he couldn't get over how cosmetic surgery had made his lips full and changed the shape of his eyes. He was a living doll.
Bob regarded the earrings hanging from his ears; after surgery, his castrated testicles had been sealed in clear acrylic with a little golden chain attached. He had eventually found them permanently attached to, and swinging from, his ears. He was told that this was something that the Institute requested be done, to always remind him where he had come from. Bob was told that they could be removed if, in the future, he determined that he just couldn't live with them, but for now they stayed. Bob decided that he liked his new earrings; his balls were finally proving themselves useful for something.
Bob thought about how he had to legally change his name when he got home and what he would change it to. He hadn't decided for certain; he was partial to both Pamela and Elizabeth.
Bob sat on the couch in Dr. van Damme's office, not believing what he was hearing. "So you see Bob, Gloria refuses to pay any money for charges incurred after the surgery was completed. That leaves you responsible financially for your room and board since then, and for your wardrobe as well."
"But I don't have any money Doctor, Gloria said she'd pay for all of this."
"I am afraid that you are mistaken. Read this agreement she signed with you and I am sure you will realize that she has fulfilled her obligations to you entirely."
Bob took the offered paper and read it. Gloria had done exactly what she had said she would. Bob felt his stomach sinking; he had signed away his entire fortune to her. "What can I do Doctor?"
"Well being as you owe me a considerable sum of money, I am sure we can work something out."
Bob looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was neither pleased nor comfortable. His hips and ass were crushed in the tight girdle which held up his support stockings. Likewise his breasts were crammed into a minimizer bra, reducing their size to where he could zip up the black nylon uniform dress he'd been issued. He pinned on his name tag which read:
Robert Watson Waitress
Dr. van Damme had put an end to his plan to change his name. Robert he was, and Robert he would remain.
"How did I ever let her talk me into a lifetime contract?" Bob wondered, as he went off to his job in the executive dining room.
Like his father before him, Bob worked his way up to the position of personal maid to Dr. van Damme. Also like his dad, Bob's mind and body were programmed with the sexual responses of a promiscuous slut. Unlike his father though, no trace of the old Bob remained. Oh he remembered who he had been, but not for minute did he ever regret what had been done to him; rather he revelled in it.
While Bob's body was rearranging itself, in line with her long-range plans, Dr. van Damme also had Bob's subconscious mind manipulated until he was the sweetest little submissive masochist possible.
Bob arose from bed and started getting ready for work. He had been a bit irritable the day before, but hadn't thought much about it. The feeling of extreme sensitivity persisted though, and his moodiness had grown more intense overnight. Bob made a mental note to see Dr Mason that afternoon and mention it to her.
Bob was clearing away the remains of Dr. van Damme's lunch when all of a sudden he felt a searing pain tear through his abdomen. He dropped the tray he was carrying, grabbed his gut, and gasped.
"What's wrong Bob?" asked Dr. van Damme.
"I don't know Doctor .. aaaaagh!" the pain was back and this time it felt like his innards were being twisted like a rubber band.
She helped him along to the clinic.
Bob lay naked on the examination table with his feet up in stirrups as Dr. Mason conducted a pelvic exam. He still felt cramps and discomfort, but not as severe since the shot he had been given had taken effect. Bob felt whatever it was that the Doctor had placed up inside him slip out. "What's the matter Doctor? Is it a problem with my operation?"
"No not at all Bob. It's just nature's way of telling you that you're a woman now."
"Yes and you'd better get used to it. Although I don't think that it will be so severe in the future. it's just that you're new plumbing is just flushing itself out, so to speak, for the first time."
"You mean this pain won't go away?"
"No, it will go away, but it will be back every month like clockwork. It's your period."
"PERIOD! But I'm a transsexual."
"I thought that I wouldn't have periods and such things."
"You wanted Dr. van Damme to make you into a woman didn't you?"
"Yes, but ..."
"Well she did just that. You are now a fully functioning female, and I emphasize the word fully. Welcome to the sorority. As long as we are here in the clinic let me teach you some things you need to know." Dr. Mason reached down and picked up a plastic container.
"Now then, this is foam ..."
Back in his room Bob unpacked the bag of stuff Dr. Mason had given him. Pills, tampons, panty liners, douche, foam, and two dozen condoms. Bob was very conscious of the tampon up inside him, but Dr. Mason had told him that soon he wouldn't even notice it. Bob had been embarrassed by the condoms especially when Dr. Mason had made him put one on a life size model of a penis, telling him "it's a skill every girl needs to know."
Bob told her, "but Dr. I'm not even interested in men."
Dr. Mason didn't say a word, but thought to herself "Just you wait Robert, just you wait."
Dr van Damme read the letter from Monica. She and Gloria Watson were steady lovers now, and had decided to move from the city to an estate in the country. Joe was the perfect maid, but the new mansion would be too much for him alone. Monica had let it slip that Bob had stayed on the island and was working for the Doctor. Gloria was tickled pink with the idea of having both of the men who had been a threat to her, serving her as a matched pair of maids.
Dr. van Damme summoned Bob to her office. He entered, dressed in his standard uniform of white satin blouse and black taffeta skirt. She ignored him for several moments, then told him, "Bob I'm going away on a business trip. I was going to leave you here, but have decided that I need you with me. Take that suitcase and this."
She handed him a passport. " Get dressed in the clothing laid out in my bedroom and meet me back here."
Outside the Doctor's office, Bob looked at the passport. It was French, inside was a picture of him as he looked now, but that name; Yvonne LaEsclave. It was somehow familiar. Where had he heard it before? Suspicion grew in the back of his mind, but was quickly overshadowed by his excitement at going on a trip.
It was over a year later, when all the pieces of Dr. van Damme's plan fell into place one day; Monica wrote to her about her and Gloria's changing plans. They were going to be married in a radical lesbian ceremony and Gloria wanted to move back to the city where they could be in the center of the lifestyle that they lived now. They would no longer be needing the services of Bob and Joe, as they would be living in a lesbian commune and Gloria wanted all memories of the two men erased from her memory. Did the Doctor have any ideas?
The limousine slowed as it approached the guardhouse. Dr. van Damme was expected, and the guard passed the car through only after checking out the driver. Scrutinizing the security arrangements, she nodded in approval. There would be no unauthorized entry to, or exit from, the Watson estate.
The long car proceeded onto the remote grounds. After a short drive, the house became visible, it was a mansion of the first order. After stopping the car in front, the driver opened the car door for her, Dr. van damme exited and walked up the steps of the house. Forewarned of her arrival by the guard house, the door swung open to meet her.
Dr. van Damme was taken aback for a minute by the appearance of the individual who greeted her.
"Good morning Doctor."
"Good morning." Scrutinizing her greeter, Dr. van Damme noticed the earrings. "You must be Robert."
"Yes Ma'am, however the mistress requests that I be addressed as Babette."
"Well I'll be delighted to indulge her. Babette."
Bob admitted her, removed her coat, and took it to the cloakroom. When he returned, Dr. van Damme examined the youth, who was a product of her Institute. Robert Watson had started out with a strong familial resemblance to his father, Joseph Watson and, having undergone identical physical modifications, was now a perfect replica of his dad. Bob was about five feet seven inches tall, but his black patent spike heels added considerably to that.
Sheer black stockings sheathed Bob's long shapely legs, ending on his upper thighs, from where garters stretched up to disappear under his skirt. Although it stretched the imagination to call that tiny bit of fabric a skirt. Bob wore a very abbreviated maid's uniform, even more extreme than the ones that Gloria had originally dressed Joe in. The skirt was held almost horizontal by fluffy petticoats, both of which ended high on his hips. The Doctor could see the boy's embroidered lace panties, his dark pubic hair clearly visible through the delicate material. As he stood there with his legs slightly apart, she could discern his vaginal lips, with the profile of the vulva he had developed, outlined in the satin crotch of his panties.
Bob wore no bra and his nipples poked out like tiny fingers through the black satin of his uniform. The lace edged neckline of Bob's dress barely covered his aureoles, and the expanse of his massive bosom was fully revealed. His hair was parted in the middle, and the long blonde tresses were brushed forward, to rest atop the creamy white globes of his breasts. Shoulder-length black gloves had the fingers cut off to allow him to wear them with his long fingernails, and he wore the obligatory cap and apron. "If you will please follow me Doctor, my mistress will receive you."
Dr. van Damme followed the youth, watching his ass wiggle in the lacy panties, as he swished through the house before her.
Bob entered the sitting room where Gloria awaited their arrival, with Dr. van Damme right behind him, and curtseyed. "Dr. van Damme. Madame."
"Thank you Babette."
Bob curtseyed and withdrew to the wall where he stood with his hands folded over his apron; the perfect maid, attentive to any desire on the part of his mistress or her guest.
The two women greeted each other like long lost friends. After some chatting Dr. van Damme asked "and how is Joe doing?"
Gloria explained, "I have decided, for the present, that Joseph shall be called Yvette and Robert shall be addressed as Babette. They look so much alike that I kid my guests; telling them that they are the Ette sisters, Eve and Bab."
The Doctor chuckled at the joke.
Gloria pushed a little button. "I believe Yvette is doing the laundry now. Let me show you how his training has progressed."
In a couple of minutes, the click of high heels on wooden floors could be heard approaching the sitting room and then the rustle of petticoats. Shortly a busty blonde, dressed and looking exactly like Bob, traipsed in and curtseyed. "You rang Madame?"
Dr. van Damme, looked Joe Watson over. He was an exact duplicate of Bob. The only way she could tell them apart was by the fact that Joe's testicles had been gold-plated and he wore the little balls permanently affixed in his earlobes, while Bob's were sealed in clear plastic and swung from his ears on tiny chains.
"Yes Yvette. I desire that you pleasure me now."
"At once Madame." Joe obediently got down on his knees, while Gloria pulled up her skirt and spread her legs wide. Joe removed her panties, leaving her in a garter belt and hose, then plunged his face into Gloria's pussy and started licking it.
Dr. van Damme watched as the pretty man's blonde head bobbed between his ex-wife's legs.
"The old Joe Watson wouldn't do this in a million years," exclaimed Gloria. "Now, as Yvette, he eats pussy every day. Would you care to have Babette service you Doctor?"
"No thank you. Perhaps some other time."
"Oh well. You don't know what you're missing. Babette since you have nothing better to do, attend to my feet."
Dr. van Damme looked on in silence as the golden haired beauty, that had once been Robert Watson, knelt down on nylon clad knees. Bob gently removed Gloria's alligator pumps then, being careful not to interfere with his father, unhooked the garters and rolled Gloria's stockings down her legs. Bob lifted Gloria's right foot to his mouth and started licking it. After he had covered the whole foot, he started sucking on her toes, ending up with all five between his thick red lips. Completing his servicing of Gloria's right foot, Bob placed it back on the floor and brought her left foot to his mouth. While he was working on that one, Gloria lifted her right foot and, using her toes, fondled Bob's tumescent nipples through his satin dress.
Gloria leaned back and shut her eyes, obviously enjoying the services of her maids. Dr. van Damme decided that she had seen enough, excused herself, and left.
Bob had cleared away the remains of the excellent dinner which Joe had prepared; he was quite the accomplished cook by now. Dr. van Damme, Gloria, and Monica sat around the table drinking coffee. "I think it's time to feed the boys Monica. You won't want to miss this Doctor."
As the three woman made their way to the kitchen Gloria explained. "It seems that both of them returned from your island with tremendous appetites Doctor. Monica figures that this is a side effect of the process which filled out their curvy bodies. We found that the boys were putting on weight and I couldn't allow that. I mean think of the money I have invested in their uniforms, and besides, they are perfect just as they are. Don't you agree?"
"Yes, but I made them what they are, so I am more than a little prejudiced."
"No matter. I took the situation in hand; Joe and Bob are strict vegetarians now and I feed them only the healthiest of foods three times a day. For breakfast they get an orange, a bowl of oatmeal, and vitamins. Their lunch and dinner usually consists of beans and rice."
When the women entered the kitchen, Joe and Bob, who had been sitting at the table waiting, sprang up to attention. Monica got out two bowls; into each she put two scoops of cold brown rice from a pot in the refrigerator, then she opened a can of kidney beans and topped the rice with the beans, dividing the can between the two bowls. Monica put the bowls on the floor."You may eat."
To Dr. van Damme's amazement, Joe and Bob curtseyed saying "Thank you mistress," then got down on their hands and knees and, like two dogs, hungrily lapped at their obviously unappetizing fare with their rounded behinds up in the air, fully exposed.
"No need to worry about them losing their girlish figures, and besides think of the money I save on food." Laughed Gloria.
Later that evening Dr. van Damme joined Gloria Watson in her den for a nightcap. They each had a drink and made small talk. During a pause in the conversation, Gloria said, "Let's see how my boys are doing." Knowing that Bob and Joe's almost nightly ritual would soon be getting underway any minute now, she pushed a button and a section of wall slid away to reveal several television monitors and a control console. She turned them on and selected those cameras which gave good views of the bedroom and bath that Joe and Bob shared.
Joe had just stepped out of the shower and was drying off his superbly feminine body. In the bedroom, Bob sat in front of the mirror, brushing out his luxuriant blonde hair, dressed in an embroidered satin teddy. Joe wrapped a towel around his head, put on a short kimono style gown of jade silk, came out, sat down on the bed, and started drying his hair.
"I thought the doctor who invented this hair said it was low maintenance." Said Joe sarcastically, since both of them spent hours on their hair.
"No he didn't; he just said it would last forever. If anything it is more work than real hair since you can't do anything to it that lasts. Sometimes I wish that I could just get a permanent and not have to worry about it." Said Bob.
"I'm really worried about the Doctor being here, it can't mean anything but trouble for us." Whined Joe.
"Oh come on Evie, lighten up a little." Retorted Bob
"Don't you start in with that shit too. It's bad enough with Gloria and that crazy doctor. When we're alone, just call me Joe."
The two of them had long ago discovered their relationship; Joe was troubled deeply by their circumstances, but Bob was too far gone to care. "I'm sorry Joe. Let me make it up to you by brushing your hair for you."
Bob came over, got on the bed behind Joe, and started brushing his father's long blonde hair. Joe knew that Bob liked what had been done to him. In fact, he'd been shown a videotape of the boy begging Gloria to have him changed into a female. "Bob is really into all this girl shit." Thought Joe, who did only as much as he was forced to.
Joe didn't know it but, thanks to hypnosis and subliminal programming, Bob craved humiliation and domination in addition to his delight in his new body. Bob brushed Joe's hair until it shined, then leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "Let's fool around pop."
Being under Gloria's total control, her sadistic domination had erased any inhibitions that either of them might have retained.
"I don't know ..." Said Joe. Bob put down the hairbrush, reached around, undid Joe's robe, took the revealed breasts in each hand, and started playing with the nipples.
"Come on. You know you want to. Stop worrying about the Doctor being here, there's nothing you can do to change anything." Bob stopped the foreplay for a minute and slipped the straps of his teddy off of his shoulders, then he pulled the teddy down to reveal his bounteous breasts, and resumed fondling his fathers breasts.
Joe could feel Bob's hard nipples pressing against his back. Thanks to conditioned behavior, the father responded quickly to the son's caresses. Joe turned around and looked at Bob. Joe still had his strong attraction to big titted sluts, and that's what he saw in front of him. It no longer mattered to him that this blonde bimbo had once been his son, or that she was an exact replica of himself. Joe's enlarged red lips met Bob's. He pulled Bob into his arms. Their tongues hungrily sought one another, as each one's breasts pressed hard against the other's.
It was times like this that Joe wished that he still had his cock and balls; he'd love to be able to screw the beautiful blonde that his son had become. Joe would never again screw any woman, but his sex change had left him with a realistic vagina, along with his responsive clitoris which allowed him plenty of potential for sexual relief.
Joe played with his nipples. He was in seventh heaven as he looked down at Bob's pretty blonde head. Joe loved having his pussy eaten, and Bob was very good at it. Joe was too, although he hated to do it, and would do so only at Gloria's command.
When Joe's pussy was dripping wet and he was grinding his cunt against Bob's face, Bob stopped, stripped off his teddy and, as he had so many times before, went to the dresser. Joe knew what would be coming next. It was deeply humiliating, but then again, it felt so good. Bob returned with a huge double-ended dildo.
Joe laid back and spread his legs wide to receive his end of the sex toy. Bob placed the oversized head of the rubber cock against Joe's cunt, and gently pushed it in. Joe's pussy was really slippery by now, but the diameter of the dildo was so large that they had to exercise caution getting it in. Finally it was in as far as they dared force it.
Now it was Bob's turn. He laid down and played with his pussy, preparing it for what was to come. Joe positioned himself so that the other head of the dildo was at Bob's cunt lips, then thrust his hips forward. Bob moaned as the enormous dildo invaded him. Before long, Joe was on top of Bob, their tits mashed together, as they ground pelvis against pelvis, each of them receiving extreme pleasure from their simulated fucking.
Dr. van Damme watched from the den as Bob fell asleep in Joe's arms. What a bizarre sight that had been, watching the two stacked blondes humping one another. Gloria interrupted her thoughts. "What I wanted to talk to you about Justine, is Joe and Bob's future. I must tell you that I have fallen in love with that girl you sent to help me with Bob. Monica and I do not desire this country life-style anymore and we want to move back to the city. I'm sure you see the problems which might arise if those two were to accompany us. Do you have any suggestions."
"Well, it's really funny that you should bring that up. I have been asked to approach you about the two of them. It seems that there are two very powerful and rich brothers and each wants Joe very badly. They could not agree on sharing him so they gave up on the idea of ever having him. I told them about Robert, that he was made into his father's twin, and they have asked me to speak to you and find out if they are available."
"What do they want them for?'
"This may sound crazy, but they want to marry them. These brothers share some extreme tastes, such as bondage and domination, just to name a few, and they would never in a million years find a real woman to tolerate what they would insist on, as a matter of course, in a marriage. Their only requirement is that Joe and Bob be totally submissive with absolutely no resistance left."
"Well Bob loves it when you punish him and I have beaten all the resistance out of Joe." Said Gloria.
"If you're amenable, I would take them back to the island for a thorough preparation as there are a couple of other changes the brothers want done. I think that this proposition would be in everyone's best interests, especially since Bob would be happy in bondage and submission while Joe would always hate it. I have been instructed to offer you five hundred thousand dollars for the two of them. Do you find that offer fair?"
"More than fair and I'll accept it with pleasure," replied Gloria, "except that I insist you take half of the money. I don't need any of it thanks to you and you've done more than enough to earn it."
Dr. van Damme started giggling.
"What's so funny Justine?" asked Gloria.
"This will be so appropriate."
"Whatever do you mean?"
"This man who wants to marry Joe. He is worse to women than Joe Watson ever dreamed of being."
The two women sealed the deal with a toast to Joe and Bob's new lives.
Bob and Joe were glad to be back on Dr. van Damme's island and out of the clutches of Gloria. The two of them were again serving as maids for the Doctor until further arrangements could be made. Joe had no idea what would happen to them, but he had been assured that they would not be turned into streetwalkers.
Joe cooked and Bob had set the table in preparation for the arrival of the Gonzales brothers for dinner. Remembering the effect the brothers had on him the last time they were here, Joe was thankful that he would be in the kitchen, but he was not to be spared this night. "Joe get out here." Squeaked Bob, running into the kitchen after the table had been cleared. "They want to give their compliments to the cook."
"Shit!" Joe removed the long white duster that he wore while cooking to reveal that, under it, he had on the same French maid's uniform as Bob. Joe could see the effect that the presence of the masculine brothers had on Bob as he waited on them; he was flushed, excited, and Joe knew from his own experiences that Bob's pussy must be dripping wet by now.
Joe went into the dining room, curtseyed, and then stood with his hands folded politely over his apron. Bob came out and stood beside his father.
The Gonzales brothers were speechless as they stared at the two gorgeous girls that they knew had once been men.
"How do you tell them apart?" Asked Hector.
"Oh there is a way, but I'll let you find out." Answered Dr. van Damme. "Don't just stand there. Introduce yourselves." She told her two maids.
Joe curtseyed. "I am Joseph Watson, sirs."
Bob followed suit.
Miguel Gonzales rose and came over to Joe. "I just wanted to express my compliments to the cook. The cook in this case being so beautiful, I believe that a kiss would be in order." Having been briefed on Joe's programming, Miguel grabbed Joe and before he could say anything, pulled him tight and kissed him passionately. Miguel felt the former man in his arms tighten up in resistance. In short order though, Joe was betrayed by his conditioned responses and was returning Miguel's kisses with all the fervor he could muster. Joe could not resist his carnal desires; he wanted to suck on Miguel's cock, he wanted it filling his hot cunt, to feel it rubbing against his swollen clit. Joe was overcome with lust and passion.
Miguel broke off the kiss and Joe could see that Hector was kissing Bob, who was responding in kind.
"Joe would you like to accompany Senor Gonzales to his room tonight?" Asked Dr. van Damme.
Joe could do nothing else but answer sweetly. "Yes ma'am."
Miguel explained to Joe, "I desired you as the delicate Yvonne and now I desire you even more as the beguiling Joe Watson. The only problem is that I want to keep you to myself. Forever. Tell me, how do you feel about that Joe?"
Joe just stood there, hoping that Miguel would kiss him again.
"Answer the man Joseph!" Demanded Dr. van Damme.
Joe would do or say anything by now, he was so horny; all he cared about was getting it on with Miguel. "I would love that sir." Joe said softly.
"He's all yours Miguel."
Miguel took Joe's hand and led him out of the room to his suite. Joe followed like an eager puppy.
After their initial introduction the couples were inseparable. Bob had just spent a weekend alone with Hector and Joe was off somewhere with Miguel. Hector returned from the other room. Looking at the naked blonde girl in his bed he thought that he must be the luckiest man in the world. After thanking God for his generosity, Hector tossed Bob a little box. "Here, this is for you my dear."
"What's is it?"
"It is your engagement ring."
"Oh don't look so surprised. You and your father couldn't stay here forever. Dr. van Damme had to do something with the two of you, and she decided that you and he would make the perfect wives for my brother and me, and we agreed whole-heartedly."
Knowing better than to say anything, Bob kept his pretty mouth shut and opened the box to reveal a tiny diamond ring. "It's beautiful Hector, but it's so small. How will I get it on my finger?"
"My sweet, it is not for your finger."
Bob was awakened by Gloria and Monica. It was very early. "Come on boys, get up. Today's your big day. You first Joe."
Bob watched, as his father was prepared for their upcoming nuptials, knowing that the same actions would shortly be carried out on him.
Both Bob and Joe had been modified even further, since their betrothal, in accordance with the Gonzales' desires. Monica helped Joe off with his bra. Both of them wore bras all the time now, even when they slept. They had to, they had undergone further breast enlargement to the point of absurdity. They were now sometimes referred to in whispers as "the walking tits". From Joe's left nipple swung his diamond engagement ring. His right nipple had also been holed in anticipation of the plain gold band that would be set in it today; symbolizing his absolute submission to the will of Miguel Gonzales.
Joe was helped to the lacing bar. Grabbing it, he was pulled up off of his feet, and a sort of corset cum bra was wrapped around him and laced up. Joe had a tiny waist as the result of liposuction and the removal of two ribs, but nevertheless he was laced unmercifully down to the last breathless inch. Bob would have been surprised if Joe's corsetted waist exceeded fourteen inches.
The corset might, more properly, be described as a harness; it was white satin, very heavily boned, with lots of straps and buckles attached to it, and it took both Joe and the girls working together to get it on. From the back of the corset, straps were passed over each shoulder. Joe lifted his right breast and Monica held up the left one while Gloria crossed the straps over Joe's chest, between his breasts, and hooked them to rigid cups on the front of the corset.
Next a white leather collar was laced around Joe's neck. This collar forced Joe to keep his head erect and look directly ahead. With it on he couldn't move his head at all. From the sides of the collar dropped two straps which were passed around the outside of, and under, Joe's breasts and attached to the other side of the rigid cups. These little cups weren't designed to cover Joe. Rather they acted like a shelf, holding up his colossal breasts, while the crossed straps separated them. As the straps were tightened, the burden of holding up his breasts fell on Joe's neck and shoulders.
Joe had been told what to expect next, and tried to face this phase with as much composure as he could muster. He grabbed the lacing bar to balance himself while Monica spread his legs as wide as they would go. She then produced two rubber dildos. The Gonzales brothers had made latex casts of their erect cocks; these two were of Miguel's.
One of the dildos was slowly eased into Joe's manmade vagina as he stared straight ahead, trying to ignore the indignities being wreaked upon him. Monica worked the dildo in and out and shortly, in response to the irritation, the lining of Joe's cunt reflexively secreted mucous. When the dildo was covered with the slippery emission, it was withdrawn, only to be forced into his anus. After it was fully inserted, the other one was slipped into his wet cunt.
From the bottom front of the corset hung two straps and from the back, one. The strap from the back was pulled forward between Joe's legs and buckled to the two front straps. These were cinched tight, ensuring that the rubber cocks would be held firmly in place. A tiny padlock swung between Joe's legs locking everything together; his intended would hold the key, signifying his dominion over Joe and his body.
Monica helped Joe to sit down on a satin covered bench, and pulled ultra-sheer white nylons up his long legs. Then they laced Joe into his shoes. Even with the alterations done to his feet, the poor man found wearing these impossible. They were made of white satin, with sky-high heels, and no soles. They didn't need them; they were like ballet slippers. Joe walked on his toes in these shoes and could take only the tiniest of steps.
As Joe was helped to his feet, it dawned on Bob that neither of them would ever get dressed by himself again; they needed assistance just to get their custom made bras on and neither of them could see his feet with their mammoth mammaries held upand out blocking the view. Not only that, if one of them was to bend over to where he could see his feet, he might lose his balance and the weight of his breasts pull him over the rest of the way.
Something like that had already happened to Bob. Dr. van Damme had made Joe and Bob available as models and actresses for several porn magazines and video productions. While posing for the magazine "Buxom Blondes in Bondage", Bob had been placed on his hands and knees. With gravity pulling his jumbo breasts down, Bob's nipples almost reached the floor. That wasn't the worst part of it, when the shoot was over Bob had to be helped up. He couldn't do it on his own.
While Monica tightened the suspenders from Joe's corset to his stockings, Gloria laid out what looked like a circle of white fabric on the floor. Joe was helped to step into it and the it was pulled up and tied around his waist. Bob saw that it was a hoop skirt and that it formed a big cone from Joe's feet to his waist. Next a taffeta and net petticoat was pulled over Joe's head and settled over the hoop skirt.
Clouds of silk and lace billowed about Joe as his wedding gown was placed over his head. His arms were guided into pointed sleeves of venice lace and Monica buttoned up the back. The puffed out skirts of Joe's gown flared out from his microscopic waist and the top layer of ivory satin was gathered up in a butterfly bow over his rear; revealing the underlying layers of taffeta and tulle. The front of the gown rose from the waist with a shirred bodice to the Queen Anne neckline, but this wasn't your normal Queen Anne neckline. The collar of Joe's gown covered and concealed his leather collar with strings of pearls hanging down, but instead of just a little open area between the collar and bodice, the gown just vanished under Joe's breasts and his magnificent mammaries were exhibited for all to marvel at.
Gloria brought Joe his teeth and helped him get them into position in his mouth.
The Gonzales brothers were connoisseurs of fellatio and, as in all things, insisted on perfection. Accordingly all of Bob and Joe's teeth had been extracted and they had been fitted with false ones. Before giving head Joe and Bob would remove their false teeth, ensuring a perfect blow job with no irritating scratches. For this their special day though, the boys wore their "special teeth". These were a fiendish design, totally in keeping with the Gonzales devotion to bondage, an enthusiasm which Bob and Joe were going to share whether they liked it or not. These dentures were all one piece, top and bottom sealed together. With them in place all Bob or Joe could do was smile and look pretty. That wouldn't be as easy as it sounded, for affixed to the insides of the dentures were those rubber casts of the brothers pricks, which filled the mouth, and extended down the throat of the wearer.
Joe's hair was brushed down his back and his headpiece put on; its veil falling from a crown of fabric blossoms, lace, and pearls. He was handed a bouquet of flowers, only to discover that it artfully concealed a white satin covered wire which was locked around his waist, and a pair of handcuffs, which were fastened on his wrists. With Joe's hands secured, the veil was arranged so that it draped over him, a chiffon cage which covered everything but concealed nothing. Joe was helped to the bed, seated, and then the maids came for Bob.
Bob had expected to be dressed identically to Joe, but this was not to be. Instead, he looked like a mermaid in white satin; his skirt being of the sheath type rather than the bouffant type that Joe wore. Bob's shoes were white satin pumps with six inch heels, and he wore a big wide hat from which his veil fell. His skirt was extremely tight, all the way down to his ankles, which was why he'd been given the somewhat normal shoes to wear. Even so, he could only take steps of about three inches. Bob wore the same type of harness as his dad and his breasts were similarly exposed.
Joe Watson was actually relieved as he tip-toed up the aisle escorted by Gloria who, dressed in a black tuxedo, helped him to keep his balance. Think about it. What can be more humiliating for a man, than to go to a wedding as a bride, handcuffed, absurdly huge tits hanging out, with cocks wedged in his pussy, ass, and throat, to be given away by his ex-wife? Nothing, that's what. "After this, it's all downhill." Thought Joe, wondering for a second if life as a cheap whore might not be preferable to this. He didn't think about it very long, for he knew that he was locked into his new life just as securely as those dildos were locked into his cunt and asshole.
In front of the assembled guests, Gloria presented Joe to Miguel. Taking Miguel's hand, she placed it in the crook of Joe's elbow, signifying the transfer of her interest in Joe to Miguel. Joe could do nothing but stare straight ahead, standing arm in arm with his husband to be, while Gloria returned for Bob.
Monica served as the maid of honor, and when Joe was asked: "Do you, Joseph Robert Watson, take this man, Miguel Gonzales, to be your bounden owner, master, and husband, undertaking to obey his every wish, serve his every need, and remain a faithful and submissive wife, slave, and lover to him, for as long as he may care to keep you." She answered, "He does."
The ceremony was repeated for Bob and Hector and thus father and son became sisters-in-law. Once the vows had been sealed it became apparent why the wedding gowns were designed the way they were, as Joe and Bob received their wedding rings.
Joe was mistaken in thinking that his humiliations would end after his wedding. He would face new ones every day; starting the day after his wedding. The night of their wedding, Miguel had taken his new bride in every manner imaginable. Miguel's manly vigor was unflagging and for the first time in his new body, Joe's subliminal appetites were sated.
Joe awoke in bed alone the next morning. Grateful that Miguel wasn't there, he went to the bathroom and gargled to get the taste of cum out of his mouth. Joe came back into the bedroom. His teeth were missing and there was no clothing for him to wear. He climbed back into bed and waited.
Joe looked up as the door opened and saw two maids enter the room. They were giggling and carrying a large case."Good morning Mrs. Gonzales." Said one.
"We're here to help you pack." Said the other.
"I'm not Mrs. Gonzales, my name is Joe Watson."
"That's not what Mr. Gonzales said, and I notice that you're wearing his ring." Said the first maid and they both started giggling. Joe looked down and saw that the satin sheet had slid down to reveal his right breast with the permanently sealed gold band swinging from the piercing in the nipple. Embarrassed, he pulled up the sheets and shut up.
Joe walked out and sat on the bed. The two maids had been more than thorough in helping him through his morning toilette. He'd protested when one of the maids produced an enema bag and he was told to bend over the sink. She explained that they had their orders; he was to be 'cleaned out' for his trip to his new home, and Joe actually enjoyed the new experience of having his bowels filled with hot soapy water.
The maids came out from cleaning up the bath and Joe asked them; "Where are my teeth and clothes?"
"They have all been packed for the trip."
"I thought you were here to help me pack."
"We are, but you may have misunderstood. We are here to help pack you!" One of them rolled the big trunk to the center of the room, set it on it's side and lifted the top off. Joe saw the LV pattern on the outside, he hadn't been aware that they made anything like this; trust Miguel to have only the best.
"Mrs. Gonzales. If you please." Joe kept his mouth shut and walked over to the trunk. A maid helped him step into it and had him kneel down, putting his knees into openings that had been molded for them. The inside of the box was made of some sort of very soft material topped with a layer of foam covered with satin. The maid placed some type of cover over Joe's calves and buckled it into place. "Sit back please."
Joe did as directed but felt something pushing at his cunt and asshole. He looked back and saw the maid attempting to guide, what looked like, two long lubricated dildos into him. "What the ....?" Said Joe, but at that instant the other maid put her hands on Joe's shoulders and pushed down. Joe gasped as the rigid projections impaled him.
"There you go. We want you to be comfortable for your trip. Now put your arms in these holes and lean forward. There were two holes in the lining outside of two deep depressions that were obviously intended to hold his breasts. Joe inserted his hands into the holes and leaned forward, the maid guided his breasts into the indentations. Joe's arms went down and then forward as far as they could go where Joe's hands felt like they were in gloves. "I hope you are comfortable Mrs. Gonzales. Please hold still until we are finished."
Joe wanted to tell her to knock off the Mrs. Gonzales crap, but did as he was told. There was a click and Joe felt something shut around each wrist. He tried to pull his arms out, but they were immobilized. The last attachment was installed. A depression shaped as to hold a face, with a rubber phallic shape projecting from it. Joe offered no resistance as the maid pushed his head down. As the dildo entered his mouth, Joe noticed it was hollow. "Just breathe through it." Was the only advice offered as Joe's face was pushed down into the soft satin lining that molded itself to him.
The maids put the top on and pushed it down. Joe felt himself confined in tight satin. "It's a good thing I'm not claustrophobic" he thought.
After the buckles had been fastened, the maids completed their last task. Each took a hand pump and attaching them to fittings outside the trunk, began to stroke. As the rubber lining under the satin inflated. Joe felt himself constricted tightly; no part of his body, not even a finger, could be moved at all. Finished, the maids called a porter who set the trunk upright, put it on his handtruck and pushed it to the airfield. Suspended inside the trunk, Joe was aware of only the slightest sense of movement.
Airborne in their private jet, Miguel and Hector enjoyed fine wines and shared tales of their wedding night exploits. Strapped to the floor were the two identical trunks in which Joe and Bob travelled. "You know brother, it's not fair that we enjoy such luxury while our brides travel without any diversion whatsoever."
"As always, you are correct Hector." Said Miguel. "Allow me to repair that deficiency."
Miguel went over to the trunks where he plugged a cable into a receptacle on each. Returning to his seat, he pushed a button. "There, that should provide them some entertainment."
Inside the darkness of his bondage. Joe heard music; soft violins. Then the dildo in his pussy vibrated faintly. It ended quickly, but then the one in his ass twitched. Then his breasts felt as though they were being massaged. What started out as a gentle teasing increased in duration and intensity. Joe lost all sense of time and space, aware only of was the dildos pumping in and out of him and the mechanical kneading of his breasts. Every time he got close to orgasm the whole thing would stop. Later on the vibrations would start up again, slowly, as they had the first time.
By the time he arrived at Miguel's remote estate every nerve in Joe's body was quivering with desire. He didn't know what country he was in, nor did he care, all he knew was that he needed to be fucked. NOW!
Joe was released from the trunk, but there were other needs to be tended to first. While Joe stood there panting, stainless steel bands with rings in them were riveted around his wrists. Only after this task was accomplished was Joe led to the chamber where his master awaited his attentions.
Life on the estate fell into a kind of routine for Joe. He spent each night in chains on the floor at the foot of Miguel's bed. A maid would come in at sunrise and release Joe from his bondage. He would be given a hot bath to soak the kinks out and then dressed. If you could call a corset, hose, and heels dressed. The corset provided the support necessary to hold up Joe's huge breasts, but in no way concealed them. Thusly attired Joe would be led to the breakfast room.
Miguel liked to start his day with breakfast, during which time he would read any faxes or telexes concerning his businesses and then read the Financial Times. He believed that being "on the edge" sexually, sharpened his business acumen and it was his wifes job to keep him there. Joe would be under the table with each arm chained to a leg when Miguel would come down to breakfast. As soon as Miguel was seated, Joe would take his cock between his gums and work it up to a erection. If he failed to keep Miguel on the edge, or accidentally pushed him over, things would go badly for poor Joe.
After Miguel had finished his breakfast, Joe would be released to go upstairs where he would put in his teeth and don a dress. This was usually nothing more than a trifle of satin or silk which left all his charms easily accessible to Miguel. Joe would then be fed and put to his tasks for the day which, as befitted a lady of his stature, were usually needlepoint, cooking, and gardening.
It began to appear to Joe that there were indignities waiting for him around every corner. Miguel had decreed a fiesta upon his return. In most feudal societies there was an old custom known as 'droit du seignor' in which the lord of the manor got first crack at the new bride of any peasant. In this case though, Miguel decided to try it in reverse to reward his faithful retainers. All the help got a crack at the new Senora Gonzales; Joe was sore for a week.
There were even more torments to come for Joe. It had been obvious that Bob wouldn't be fathering any more children. Not knowing about the exact changes made to Bob, and assuming he was like himself, Joe was dumbstruck when Miguel informed him that his son was pregnant. Joe had been secretly proud when he had become a father a twelve, but when his son became a mother at twenty-one Joe's chagrin knew no bounds. Especially when Miguel teased him about being the sexiest grandmother in the world. Joe never met his grandchild as Hector had it delivered into the care of a wet nurse immediately. At least the child would have a chance of developing normally without seeing the reality of his lineage.
A couple of weeks after the birth, Hector and Bob came over for a formal dinner. Joe was naked, gagged, and tied to his chair because of an outburst at a dinner party the night before, and was jealous of Bob who wore a stylish gown and had his breasts covered.
"Miguel, I have something here you must try."
"Very well, little brother. What is it?"
Hector signalled the waitress who brought three glasses. "Roberta, if you will be so kind."
Showing not even the slightest embarrassment, Bob pulled the bodice of his gown down to reveal his breasts. Engorged with milk, they were even fuller than they had been before. Placing a glass under one massive breast, Bob started squeezing out milk. In almost no time he had expressed enough to fill all three glasses. Miguel, Hector, and Bob each took a glass and Hector offered a toast. "To my new son. Hector junior."
They all sipped at the warm milk. "Is this not divine?" Exclaimed Hector. "We no longer use cow's milk in my house anymore. By the way brother, when do you plan to breed your Joe."
Miguel just glowered at this last. He had been trying, but it just wasn't happening. "I want him to be called Josefina."
"Well anyway, you shouldn't starve him. He'll need to keep up his strength if you want him to bear nios for you."
Miguel thought for a minute. "As always you are right little brother. I have an idea. Josefina didn't get to try any of this fine milk. Perhaps Roberta would see his way fit to allow Josefina to sample some. From the source as it were."
Released from his bonds Joe went over to where Bob had pushed his chair back from the table and got down on his knees. He was almost crying as he took the plump nipple between his gums.
"Don't worry pop. Just kind of squeeze it and suck at the same time." Said Bob as he grabbed Joe's head and pulled it in tight against his bosom. Joe did as Bob had told him and his mouth filled with the warm sweet fluid. Joe swallowed and repeated the action again and again; nursing at Bob's breasts until they were dry.
Joe got up to return to his seat, but his troubles weren't over yet. "Perhaps Roberta would like to have Josefina pleasure her in return for that fine feeding?" Asked Miguel.
Bob just giggled and shook his head in the affirmative. "You bitch!" thought Joe.
Joe was in tears as he crawled under the table, pushed the hem of Bob's gown up and pulled his panties down. The salt of Joe's tears mixed with Bob's pussy juice as Joe tongued Bob's cunt and nibbled on his clit. Would this be his final humiliation; forced to perform cunnilingus on the woman who had once been his son?
One morning Joe awoke and, instead of being led to the breakfast table, found himself being put into his travelling trunk. When he was released he found himself at Dr. van Damme's again.
Dining at Dr. van Damme's that evening, Miguel saw a sight that was extreme even by her standards. The maid was a man. That wasn't out of character. What was, was that this one was obviously a man. Oh he wore heels, hose, and the uniform, but no makeup, wig, or cosmetics, and he spoke like a man. "Playing dress up with the help again Justine?"
"Do you mean my new maid?"
"No dress up there."
"What do you mean?"
The doctor rang a little bell. The maid clicked in on his high heels. "You rang Mistress?"
"Yes Sidney. You may disrobe." The poor man looked distraught, but obviously understood the hopelessness of his situation. He undid his apron and took it off. Then unzipped his uniform and stepped out of it, revealing full breasts unconstrained by a brassiere. Real breasts. Pulling down his petticoats left the poor man clad only in garter belt, hose, panties, and black patent heels. He looked at the doctor with imploring eyes, but her only response was, "panties too Sidney."
Sidney put his fingers under the waistband of his white satin and lace panties and looked at the floor while he pulled them down and stepped out of them. Miguel was startled to see that Sidney had the sex of a woman. "You must tell me about this one Justine."
"Certainly Miguel. How about over coffee."
After their coffee, they got down to business. "Miguel. This visit is an unexpected pleasure. What can I do for you?"
"A couple of things I hope Justine. The first is not really a necessity, but I would like it. Joe, who I want to be known as Josefina, refuses to learn Spanish, also he has embarrassed me at several parties with unsolicited outbursts in English. Why he once tried to tell a guest that his name was really Joe and that he was really a man."
"The next item is one that I am afraid I really must insist on. You see there has been jealousy sown between Hector and myself. Bob, whom Hector calls Roberta, has given him a fine child. He was very surprised, but pleased. The problem is that, despite my best efforts, Joe has been unable to conceive. Why for the past month alone I have fucked him three times a day then tied him up upside down so the sperm would not run out, but to no avail."
The doctor smiled for a minute then explained. "The answer to both questions Miguel is the same. Joe won't speak Spanish or get pregnant because he cannot. The first problem is easily corrected and I will put my staff on it at once. The second is a bit more complicated." She explained the differences in how Joe and Bob had been transformed and why Joe could not become pregnant.
"Doctor, I am afraid that I must insist that you put Joe through this Weinstein Effect, as you call it. Our agreement called for Joe and Bob to be identical and they are not." Dr. van Damme thought about it. She only had enough drug for three doses left, but better to satisfy Miguel.
"Very well. I will give Bob Weinstein instructions to do so immediately."
Joe was put under, never knowing what was done to him. Bob Weinstein monitored his progress and reported to Dr. van Damme. "Joe's transformation is complete. He set a new record for the change, probably due to his otherwise total feminization. All indications are that he will go into estrus shortly."
"Good. Make sure that he gets inseminated now. I don't want to have to wait another month."
Joe woke up one morning and as he was dressing became violently ill. As he vomited into the toilet he thought,"I must have the flu."
He went to see Dr. van Damme and told her how he was feeling. "Don't worry Joe. I'm sorry, Josefina, you're not sick."
"Then what's wrong?"
"Do you remember Josefina, after you were first changed. I told you that you were and would always be a man since you lack what truly makes a woman female; a womb and ovaries?"
"Well I have been proven wrong. At your husbands insistence, and against my better judgement, we have made further adjustments to your body. You are now totally female inside as well as out, and as a result I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is you will no longer have to wear corsets and be restrained." Joe rejoiced silently at this news.
"The bad news is that it's only a temporary respite; about eight months I'd say. You see you're pregnant." Joe fainted dead away.
Dr. van Damme had two attendants move his inert form to the lab where a few final adjustments were made to his mind.
Miguel Gonzales had returned and was seated in Dr. van Damme's office exchanging pleasantries with her. "Miguel I am happy to announce that all is as you desired."
The doctor spoke into the intercom. "Clarice will you send in Mrs. Gonzales."
Miguel watched Joe walk in and sit on the couch. Joe was dressed normally; in a dress, nylons, and heels, but something seemed different. "Miguel," said Dr. van Damme, "I am afraid I have cost you some money."
Miguel looked at her.
"You need to invest in some new clothing for Joe."
"What?" "Maternity clothing."
"Aha!." Miguel's smile showed that he was indeed pleased with this turn of affairs. Joe just sat with his hands together in his lap and stared at the floor.
"Regarding your other concerns Miguel; I think a little demonstration is in order. Joe?"
Joe was shocked to hear himself replying, "Si Senora."
"What the hell is going on here." Joe thought to himself
"Just listen to this Miguel." Said Dr. van Damme. "What is your name girl?"
Joe tried to tell her "My name is Joseph Watson and I'm not really a girl", but what came out of his mouth was "Me llamo Josefina Gonzales, Senora".
"Quien es el hombre?
"l es mi esposo Miguel."
"What the hell am I saying? What has she done to me?", thought Joe.
"He comprehends Spanish and English, but thinks only in English and speaks only in Spanish. His responses are, for the most part, limited and pre-programmed. He'll never embarrass you again."
"Thank you doctor. You have no idea how happy you have made me."
"Just don't put him in bondage or strap him into that trunk of yours while he's pregnant."
It was a long nine months for Joe and if it had been difficult for him to manage with his gigantic breasts, it became practically impossible to do anything with them and a swollen belly.
Joe screamed all the way through his final initiation into womanhood and when it was over; he lay there tired, torn, and bleeding, knowing that he would never again know greater humiliation or pain. Afterwards, when Joe's milk let down his breasts swelled up to the size of watermelons. Joe asked Miguel what he should do, to which Miguel replied, "I don't know for sure, but we can't let all that milk go to waste."
Joe worked on his needlepoint as the breast pump hummed and sucked the milk out of him. It was small consolation that the milk not needed for his own child, whom he had never met, was supplied to a mother's milk bank to feed orphans and sick children. Miguel liked to joke with Joe about being qualified for agricultural subsidies if he let Joe's mammaries dry up. Eventually they did though; when he got pregnant again.
Justine van Damme reviewed the results of the Watson affair. It had wound up all nice and neat, with no loose ends; she wished they could all turn out this way.
Gloria Watson and Monica were married and living in Manhattan, where they were committed activists in the lesbian cause. Justine had known that Monica had a submissive streak in her, but had been surprised to see Gloria become so butch.
Mark Walters and Sam Grenwald were toiling endlessly; concubines in the perfumed prison of a Middle East harem.
Joseph and Robert Watson were beyond anyone's reach in South America where, as Josefina and Roberta Gonzales, they would spend the rest of their lives imprisoned in exquisite femininity. Two more men who would never be heard from again.
Closing the file, she savored a sense of accomplishment, but didn't linger very long, thinking "oh well, that was fun, but on to the next case."
Bob (Sequel to Guinea Pig) copyright 1996 by Ruth White.
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