From alt.sex.stories.tg Wed Apr 10 13:16:27 1996 Path: fu-berlin.de!zib-berlin.de!Germany.EU.net!EU.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!newsfeeder.servtech.com!murphy2.servtech.com!news From: Fixer@servtech.com (Mike Allegretto) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.tg Subject: TG post "Trading Places:not the same as the other 1+meg TP story" Date: Sun, 31 Mar 1996 18:10:09 GMT Organization: ServiceTech, Inc. Lines: 3792 Message-ID: <315eca30.3539009@news.servtech.com> NNTP-Posting-Host: hal.ceh.servtech.com X-Newsreader: Forte Agent .99d/32.168 Introduction Welcome to my second effort at a 'published' story. My first effort "DOLL1" (available on finer gender boards everywhere) was the victim of over editing (I didn't want to offend anyone) was what I finally uploaded was truly a frail copy of what I have on my word processor. Doll 2 thur 5 were never uploaded for a large number of reasons, I still didn't want to offend and it was written just after I discovered cut and paste. Still, here is my third fantasy story (number 2 is still in the works at 215,000 bytes and growing). If you enjoy this, hate this, or just want to chat please leave me a note on either Carolyn's Closet or Tri-Ess. Hugs and Kisses Desiree TRADING PLACES - Part 1 By Ms. Desiree Foster As I watched from across the street, my mother's car pulled out of the driveway that fateful Monday one year ago, I was filled with mixed emotions. First I was glad that I was going to be, more or less, on my own. I was 17 and figured that I could take care of myself. Second, the person that had been charged with keeping an eye on me was my 'Aunt' Monica. She had lived with my mother and me ever since my Mom had divorced my Father ten years ago. My mother was 34 and Monica is 32. We live in Los Angeles, in the hills above the San Fernando valley. Our house is five bedrooms, built back when houses got built big, about 5400 square feet. Aunt Monica worked at a psychiatric hospital in Ridgechrest, a tiny town out in the middle of the Mojave Desert and it was a three hour one way drive, so she rarely comes home during the week. I figured that I had at least 5 days to myself. The third reason was that I had the keys to my sisters house in my hands, well in my bedroom actually. Oh, no one knew I had them. Three weeks ago, Jessica, my sister, had been over talking to Mom and Monica when they had decided on the spur of the moment to go to the movie. They asked me if I wanted to go with them, and I had declined on the grounds of homework. It was an hour after they left in Mom's Cadillac, Jessica owns a Corvette and Monica a Porche, that I noticed, laying on the couch, Jessica's key ring. In a flash the keys were in my hand and I was out the door and off on my bike. I have my license but no car so I peddled down to the 7-11 about a mile away. It cost me, but in 15 minutes, I had a full set of Jessica's keys. Now, I know your wondering why I would want the keys to my sister's house. First, because she was going into the hospital for three weeks, no she's not sick, she suffers from an 'eating disorder' and she was using her vacation time in hopes of beating it once and for all. I didn't understand why she's wasn't happy with herself, she's was a model and also owned a very successful model agency. As far as looks go she has a 38DD, 22, 36 figure and the best face and hair money can buy. Second, because she has a state of the art alarm system that requires a key to turn off. Third, because she has a fur vault in her basement that also need a key, and a sub basement that I've never been in, also locked with a key, keys that I now possessed. Third, well that will just have to wait. As I watched Mom's Eldarado slowly back out, I thought how lucky it was that she had been called out of town, she's a costume designer for Universal Studio's and the offer had been to good to turn down. Needless to say, her closets were stuffed to overflowing with clothes. She had worked on both Dallas and Dynasty. In fact, she had done most of Joan Collins and Emma Sams clothes. Anyway, the house was now mine and more importantly, Jessica's house was now mine. First, I packed a few things, everyone has a few favorite items that you always want along. Next, I phoned Mark. I had met Mark at a Christmas party my Mom threw last December for some of the people she worked with. I had pretty much stayed out of the way and was down in the basement playing Nintendo when he had wandered down. We hit it off right away and he told me he was a makeup artist at the studio. I ask him if he just did regular stage makeup or if he did FX type work. Mark smiled and said that he did both, but was more interested in the FX work than just smearing pancake on over priced meat. After playing a couple of games, Mark asked if I had a steady girlfriend and I had to admit I didn't. He put the TETRIS cartridge in the game and we went at it. We split the first two games and I suggested that were go for three out of five. Mark said sure. He then asked how tall I was. I asked him why he wanted to know. He said something about not getting all defensive. He smiled and said that he was only 5'7" and it just seemed that we were about the same height. I grinned and said I was sorry, but I got a lot of shit about my height, and yes we were about the same height. If I'd have told the truth, I'd have to tell him I was only 5'6". I won the next game, but just barley. Mark suggested a break and went upstairs and brought down some chips, dip and four diet cokes. While we drank the cokes, Mark asked me if I was a swimmer or a runner. I asked why did he think I was a swimmer. He replied that I was slim and not heavily muscled. I told Mark that, I just seemed lately to be losing weight, but I'd been to a Doctor and I checked out fine. Mark won the next game and we got ready for the deciding game. Just before we started, Mark suggested a bet, if he won, tomorrow we'd do whatever he wanted, no matter what. If I won, tomorrow we'd do anything I wanted, no matter what. I said sure, that sounds good to me. I lost. Early the next morning, Mom left to go to a planning conference in New York city and wouldn't be back till late the next day. Monica came knocked on my door about 9:30. She was dressed in one of her white pant suit style uniforms, white flat nursing shoes and her long brown hair was done up in a tight bun. As always, when she was going to work, Monica wore almost no makeup and had just a coat of clear polish on her short nails. She told me that there was an emergency at work and she had to go out to Ridgecrest and wouldn't be back till after midnight tomorrow. I rolled back over in bed and shut my eyes as I heard Monica's Porche pull out of the garage and down the drive. About ten minuets later I heard another car pull up. I'd forgotten all about the bet with Mark. I jumped up and pulled on some sweats as the doorbell rang. Trying pull the sweat shirt over my head, I dashed down the hall to the front door. Monica stood there, still in one of her nurses uniforms, but dressed for a completely different effect. Her luxuriant, long, brown hair was fixed exactly like Kristi Allie wears hers on 'CHEERS'. Her face was exotically made up with heavy blue eyeliner, lots of pale blue eyeshadow, long, lush false eyelashes covered in navy blue mascara, bright pink lipstick, blush that made her cheekbones high and sexy. The mini-skirt her tightly cut white cotton uniform barely covered her shapely white nyloned thighs. My eyes slowly ran down her superb, sumptuous, round, body, her rock hard nipples clearly visible through the stiffly starched material. Her accessories went perfectly with her uniform, hair and make up. A white, dainty white leather watch graced her slender wrist, her inch and a half long nails were a wet, glossy hot pink. Her name tag, read 'MONICA - HEAD NURSE'. Her white plastic stethoscope hung down between the cleavage of her voluptuous 38DD breasts, huge globes of firm female flesh that threatened to escape from the cups of the white satin bra who's pale pink lace trim was clearly visible. Her starched white nurses cap was pinned on the back of her head at a seductive angle. She stood on the front porch, swaying slightly in the her white pumps with sexy four inch spiked heels, her brown eyes sparkling, and a pretty, pouting smile on her lovely face. I stood there, unable to stop staring at the wet dream come to life standing in front of me. "Well aren't you going to invite me in Richard." The face and body were Monica, but the voice was Mark's. I couldn't believe my eyes and ears. It couldn't be. I look harder at the vision of female beauty standing in front of me. The resemblance was uncanny. "Richard, it's cold out here and while I hope you like what you see, if you don't let me inside I'm going to freeze. Or is it that you want me to sound more like I look?" Marks voice suddenly rose to a beautiful, soft, sexy contralto. "Please Richard, can I come in?" I stepped aside and mumbled. "Sure, come on in. God Mark, what are you doing dressed up like that? Are those Monica's things? If she finds out you got them, she'll throw a shit fit." Mark stepped inside the entry and shut the door behind himself. "What's the matter Rick, don't you like what you see?" Mark asked, his voice an excellent imitation of Monica's. "I tried my best to look as good for you as I could" He pouted, "I thought you'd enjoy seeing me dressed in this outfit." Doing a slow turn and posing like a sexy girl, Mark continued. "Last night I went thur Monica's closet and picked out the sexiest nurse's outfit I could, every stitch I have on is Monica's, her panties, her hose, her heels, her lingerie, her uniform, her jewelry, her makeup, her perfume, everything. Do you think I look good dressed just like Monica, made up just like Monica?" "You look beautiful Mark." I stammered. "Rick, do I look like Monica?" "Yes, I guess so?" "And do I sound like Monica?" "Uh Huh, I suppose so." "Then Rick, why don't you call me Monica, I'd like that very much." "I guess so, uh Monica?" "Yes Rick" "Just what do you want to do now?" I asked hoping that he hadn't noticed the growing erection in my sweats. Mark, well I guess I should think of him as Monica, stepped up close to me. Slowly, with a sexy pout, his, well her, soft hands gently traced the outline of my now rock hard cock with her long, perfectly polished nails. "I think you love what you see, and I think you want me to make that sweet, hard cock of yours feel good. Would you like me to suck your cock Rick?" As she spoke my Monica slowly began to gently massage my now straining hardon. The sweet smell of Monica's perfume made me a little dizzy, as she bent down and gently kissed me, the creamy taste of her lipstick making my heart pound. As we kissed, I felt her tongue gently push at my teeth, and then suddenly, my tongue was in her mouth and hers in mine. I couldn't believe what I was doing, I was french kissing another guy, another guy who was stroking my rock hard penis thur my sweat pants. It felt wonderful. Then Monica pulled away. "Promise me you'll do what I want after I make you feel good Rick. Will you?" Her beautiful brown eyes stared into mine. "What ever you want Monica." Then as her had snaked into my sweats and gently took my cock in her silky smooth hand. "Oh god that feels so nice!" I moaned. She began to french my ear, the after a few seconds, she whispered. "I want to dress you up, I want you to wear your mothers clothes and let me make you up to look like her, would you like to do that with me? How would you like to be Christina for me while I'm Monica for you?" I couldn't believe what I heard myself answer. "I'd love that Monica, but there is no way that I can get away with looking like Mom, I mean, I'm a 16 year old boy and she's a 34 year old woman." Rick, you have to trust me, would you have believed me last night if I told you that I could wear Monica's clothes, have Monica's face, have a body that perfectly fills out Monica's sexy uniform? Would you have believed I could be Monica for you. We can have fun, I can give you more pleasure then you can imagine." As she spoke in the tenderest of whispers, her tender assault on my cock had increased, Do you want me to suck you now or do you want to wait until your my lesbian lover? Well darling?" "Please Monica, my cocks so full of cum my balls hurt, please make me feel better." We kissed again as she carefully used her free hand to pull my sweat pants down, the right there in the entry, she gracefully sank to her nyloned knees and holding my cock gently, her long, wet, pink tongue flicked out to lick the head of my tool. I couldn't believe the waves of pleasure that washed over me as she licked and kissed my cock. Then slowly her mouth engulfed my cock while her right hand softly squeezed the base of my shaft and her left lightly massaged my now aching balls. Unable to look away, I watched her head as she slowly pistoned her satiny pink lips up and down my shaft. I felt her long brown hair brush my naked thigh with each forward thrust of her head and could hear the wet sucking sound of her lips as they slid up and down my lipstick smeared tool. Her fingers slowly increased their pressure on the base of my prick while the other had milked and rubbed with increasing vigor my taunt distended balls. The sensation of her warm, wet mouth caused me to moan with pleasure as she continued her expert oral rapture of my engorged manhood. Every time when I believed that I could stand it no longer and my cock would attempt to shoot it's milky load into the wonderful waiting warmth of Monica mouth, she would expertly squeeze the base of my shaft and deny me the pleasure I was now begging her for. I promised to let her dress me up however she wanted, wear anything she said, act however pleased her, say whatever she wanted me to say, only, I begged her to please allow me to cum. Just when I believed I couldn't stand it any longer, Monica took me deep in her mouth and skillfully brought me to a shattering climax. It felt as if my balls were literally exploding there load of cum into her waiting mouth. As I came, she redoubled her efforts, both with her mouth and hands. It seemed as if I would never stop, the jets of cum keep squirting into her mouth, as I whimpered with pleasure. Finally I was totally spent, my balls so empty that they ached with the pleasure they had given up. Monica (I found that I really wanted to think of Mark as Monica) gracefully stood, and took my head between her hands and guided my lips to hers. Her mouth was still full of my salty, milky white cum, cum that her tongue began to transfer to my waiting mouth. Half of my mind wanted to push her away, but that was the weaker half. The stronger urge was to melt into this beautiful shemales arms and to share my milky treasure, to greedily lap with my tongue at the seed that I had spilled into her insatiable mouth. After a long, wet, cum sharing kiss, Monica slowly broke her sperm covered lips away from mime. "Well" She cooed. "Did you enjoy that, I did. You have a wonderful cock, I love feeling is silky head in my mouth. I hope you'll let me enjoy it again after I get you dressed up. Your going to make a wonderful, beautiful woman Rick. Trust me." As she spoke, she lead me into my mothers huge, opulent bedroom. Mom's bedroom looked like something right off the pages of a Barbara Cartland novel, all pastel satin, lace, and velvet. Her room was dominated by a huge canopied bed, covered in pink satin pillows and lavish with white lace shams. Over the next two hours Monica prepared the form (as she put it). It started with a long soak in scented bubble bath while Monica brought her equipment in from Mark's car. Pulling on clear, ultra thin latex gloves, Monica gently smoothed softly scented delapadory cream over my entire body. As soon as the pink cream was showered off(and my body hair along with it), Monica carefully shaved what little stubble remained. It felt funny to have a totally denuded body. And I meant totally, Monica had even gotten rid of my pubic hair. Monica sat me down at my Mothers makeup table (which resembled the makeup department at Liberty House) and carefully tweezed my brows into high, arching line. I tried to object to having my brow made so feminine, but she showed me how to use some fake one to hide the alteration. Try as I could, I couldn't tell the difference with the fake ones on. Next, Monica waxed the brow lines, my upper lip, cheeks, and chin (I've always had very light, fine facial hair). After Monica finished removing little there was, she fitted a flesh toned latex skull cap over my short brown hair. She cemented the cap down with spirit gum and blended the seam away with pancake makeup. Looking back at me from the mirror was a androgenous stranger, bald, with woman's eyebrows and a completely hairless body. Then my transformation began. First I was given breasts. A form fitting flesh toned latex torso was glued in place. As she blended away the seams Monica explained. "With this on sweetheart, no one would ever guess that these mounds weren't real girl flesh. Once the latex warms up the look and feel is indistinguishable from skin. You can even sweat thur this compound. Your going to be so pretty, now let me work out this tiny wrinkle. There! You have the same bust size as Christina, in fact now that you have Christina's breasts, I'll just call you Christina from now on. Would you like that lover?" Shyly I answered. "I guess so Monica." "OK Christina." She purred. The person in the mirror now featured a full, womanly set of 40DD breasts, completes with dark brown areolae's and stiffly erect inch long nipples. Once Monica finished her make up magic, all trace of the false latex skin disappeared and my upper torso was now for all intents a beautiful, voluptuous, woman's. Monica told me to spread my legs wide and sit still while she gave me a 'honey hole'. I watched in disbelief as she worked my now limp cock into an ultra thin latex sleeve, not unlike a condom, except this on had a thin tube coming out the end. The latex was lubricated with some type of cream, both very slippery and very cold. I started to object as my cock seemed to shrivel up and almost disappear, but a stern word from Monica to 'Just be quite Christina' shut me up. Once both my now tiny cock and balls were completely engulfed, Monica brought out a molded latex vagina, complete with a neatly trimmed bush of honey blond pubic hair and a hint of a clit just barely showing it's nub from between the moist looking cunt lips. Monica went to work, placing my cock inside the absolutely lifelike prosthesis. After liberally coating the underside with a clear jell adhesive of some sort, she placed the rubber form tightly against my crotch and held it firmly in place for about sixty seconds. Smiling happily Monica cooed. "Don't move Christina darling, I have to get something." In just seconds she was back with a hand held hair dryer, which was quickly plugged in, turned on and directed at my now completely female crotch. Entranced, I watched as the flesh toned latex, softened and shrank, molding itself tightly to me. When Monica finally shut off the dryer, no trace of a seam remained. I looked down between my legs, shocked, I now had a pussy! Carefully peeling off the latex gloves, Monica smiled. "There Christine, your boy meat is all gone now and instead you've got just the sweetest cunt, and your know how good a cunt can feel." As she spoke, her soft, gentle hands lightly traced my new breasts, down to my waist, then tenderly touched my 'pussy'. As her long nail touched my 'clit' a wave of pleasure shot through me. "MMMMMMMM." I moaned softly. "Oh Monica, Oh yes, don't stop! That feels wonderful." I gasped. "Ask me to play with your pussy, beg me, tell me that you need have your clitty rubbed Christina." Monica's (and he was Monica to me now) had taken on a demanding tone that I hadn't been aware of before. I realized that if I did what Monica was demanding, she would be the one in charge. But, then, that seemed at the time a little thing to give up in return for the pleasure that I was receiving. A truly submissive whimper had crept into my voice as I begged Monica to keep making me feel good. "God yes Monica, please play with my pussy, I love what your doing. I love having you rub my clitty, yes, just like that. Oh Jesus, that feels nice, I love being your girl, your lesbian lover, make me into my mommy, make me Christina just for you. Please, please, don't stop. Yes, please, Yes. YES! Oh God, yes, that's right, yes, make my clitty cum! I love you Monica, I'm yours, all yours, I'll do anything, just finish me, please." Suddenly, Monica stopped. "Please Monica, please don't stop." I sobbed. "That's right Christine, beg me. Now promise me that you will do anything I say. Promise Christine." "I promise Monica, I'll let you do anything to me, with me." "And you'll wear what ever I want you to?" "Yes Monica, you can dress me up anyway you want." "And you'll be whoever I want." "Yes Monica, anybody, just please, do me some more." "I'm your lover, your dearest darling, aren't I?" "Yes Monica." "Then you should talk to me like your lover, from now on, start each sentence with 'Darling', do you understand?" "OK Monica, I mean, Yes darling, I understand." "I like hearing you talk like that Christina, now pet, what's your name?" Darling, my name is Christina." Monica resumed masturbating my clitty- cock and again I was caught up in the tide of pleasure that washed over me. Her finger rubbed the latex sleeved nub of my completely concealed manhood as I withered and moaned on the velvet covered stool. As the bliss built to it's shattering climax I could hear myself screaming "Yes darling, do me, do my clit darling, yes, do me, make me cum darling." Then suddenly I orgasmed with such force that I all but passed out. When I began to my sense's I could feel Monica cleaning up my clitty with a soft, damp towel. I gazed lovingly at the totally female vision in the tight, sexy, white nurses uniform and moaned. "Darling Monica, I love you. I'll be any girl you want me to be. Let me be all the women you want, however you want." Monica kissed me gently, her tongue delicately exploring my docile, waiting mouth then softly breathed. "I'm going to hold you to exactly that my pretty baby doll." My transformation continued as Monica brought out what seemed to be a wig head made of chrome metal with a number of clear, thin vinyl hoses leading into it. She explained that this was a little invention of hers. The inside of the head now contained a bust of my mother, created my a computer from digitized photographs. The head would be hooked up to Monica's laptop which would the create a matrix. The head was lined with a plastic which would then be molded to exactly the shape of the bust. Once the liner was molded, the chrome head would be placed over my head and a matrix made of my face. Then a process of computer controlled lipo-suction and lipo-injection would begin. Coupled with spray injections that would cause bee sting like swelling and applications of a alum like chemical that would cause tissue to contract, the computer would attempt to create a facial pattern as close to the matrix held in the memory of the plastic liner. Monica assured me that there was no permanent damage and that it was possible to reverse all changes. She did add that the procedure could be a little painful, so she wanted me to take a shot that would let me sleep through the changes. I nodded and watched as she took a hypodermic needle, fitted it to a syringe, expertly filled it from a small vial and injected it into my arm. As I felt a soft, cotton candy softness envelop me, I watched as she lifted the chrome head and moved to put it over my face. I slowly drifted back to wakefulness and discovered that I was laying in my Mothers huge bed, lightly covered by a pink satin sheet. My eyes closed again as the events of this unbelievable morning replayed themselves. As my sense's returned, I noticed a tightness around my waist that I had never felt before, my eyelids felt heavy and there was a weight on my earlobes that I'd never felt before. Large portions of my face felt slightly numb, as if I'd been to the dentist. Besides the weight of the sheet, I knew I was wearing something soft and silky. With my eyes still shut I rubbed my legs together and was rewarded with the feel of one nyloned leg caressing the other. Across my forehead I could feel the downy caress of feathery bangs. I was afraid to open my eyes, afraid that I would love what I would see. "Come on sleepy head, rise and shine. It's almost 4 P.M. and if were going to do anything today you need to get up." Monica's voice purred in my ear. Slowly I opened my eyes and Monica was standing next to the bed and offered me her arm as I slowly slid out of the bed onto the deep, white shag carpet. I turned to look at myself in the full length mirror, but it was covered with a sheet. Monica caught my puzzled glance. "I covered it up, I don't want you to see yourself until your dressed all the way. While you were out, I did your makeup, laced you into a black satin and lace waist cinch, matching g- string panties, black sheer seamed hose, black bra, camisole, matching slip and did your hair and nails." I looked down at my hands and gazed in wonder at the cherry red 2 inch long sculpted nails that now graced my fingers. The effect of the ultra feminine nails was to make my fingers look longer, slimmer and very womanly. I could feel the weight of my new thick tresses on my head and wondered how I looked, probably like a teenage boy dressed in girls clothes. Monica smiled. "Now sweetheart, let's finnish getting yo dressed." Monica walked over to my Mothers huge walking closet and after a minuet or so came out carrying a white ascot necked blouse made of heavy white satin in one hand. I the other hand was a black suede leather suit. "Monica." I blurted out. "I can't wear that, it will never fit and even if it did, if I got anything on it, Mom would kill me!" Monica simply smiled and carefully laid the blouse and suit out on the bed and returned to the closet. When she emerged the second time, she carried a pair of high heeled black suede knee high boots, a black patent leather belt, black suede gloves and a black patent leather Gucci clutch with a fine gold chain strap. Again I tried to object. "Come on Monica, Mom is going to know someone has been in her things. Besides, I can't wear Mom's shoes, they'll never fit and I've never worn high heels." Monica simply ignored my protests and began to go through Mom's jewelry box, In short order a onyx and gold broach, gold lady rolex, onyx tennis bracelet and matching friendship ring joined the growing pile on the bed. "Monica, please, those are Mom's things and.." I began to whine. "Shut up!" Monica snapped, her voice suddenly demanding and totally in control. "These are your things, aren't they Christina my sweet?" Taken completely aback, I blurted back "Monica, nobody is going to believe I'm my mother." Monica stepped over to me and in a stern and somewhat forbidding voice said to me. "Richard, this is the last time I shall warn you. I am becoming quite tired of your whining, self pity, and uncooperative attitude. Now listen to me, from this second on, you will answer only to your mothers name, you will dress in whatever I tell you without a word on complaint. Any identity that I tell you to assume, you will. And further more you will attempt it to the very best of your ability. By that I mean that you will mimic her voice, mannerisms, personality, everything. Now do you understand me?" "I guess so", I mumbled. The open handed slap caught me completely by surprise. It stung my right cheek far more then it really hurt. "Shut up, I don't want to hear another word out of you. Monica roughly grabbed my arm and jerked me to my feet. Without another word she wrenched my right arm behind my back and a second later I heard a metallic 'click' then my left arm was forced behind my back and a second click. With a start I realized that my hand were now hand cuffed behind me. "Monica, please, I'm sorry, I'll...." Her second slap was directed at my left cheek. "I told you to shut up." I'm sick of your constant whining. I was then shoved over to my mother's dressing table, the mirror covered with one of mom's black satin sheets and forced to sit. Monica quickly tied my nyloned legs tightly to the red velvet french provincial stools ornate legs then tied my cuffed hands to the back of the stool. I was completely helpless now, unable to stand. "There, that should keep you from wandering around while I run out to the car. Now don't struggle or your run your silky sheer hose dear and then I would really be unhappy with you sweetest." I sat there, helpless and bound, silent, afraid and excited, dressed in my mother's beautiful black lingerie. I could feel the silky caress of her slip whose slit showed off my sheer nyloned leg and thighs, her lavish, silky camisole the concealed her breathtakingly tight waist cinch and her DD cup bra. What's Monica/Mark up to? What will happen to our hero? Write with your fantasy outfits for 'Monica' and 'Jessica' and I'll try to work them into the story. TO BE CONTINUED ( of course ) ****************************** This file came from Sierra Connection BBS Serving the Gender Community from Nevada 702-825-4220 8-N-1 28.8 VF (4 Nodes) Home of the Fiction Story Writing Contest Home of the Gif Beauty Contest RIKKI2.TXT TRADING PLACES - Part 2 By Ms. Desiree Foster Welcome back and special hugs to those who wrote. As we rejoin Richard / Rikki in his / her only slightly unwilling road to she-male hood, I still hope to hear from any readers with fantasy outfits or situations that you would like to see Rikki in. As I heard Monica's, well really Mark's, high heels click down the hall, I began to appreciate just how helpless I was. Suddenly thoughts of Jeffery Damler and Hannibal Lector began to race thur my mind. I tried to stand up and couldn't, tried to lift my cuffed hand up over the top of the stool back, no luck. Real panic set in. I tried to stand again and this time fell over. I lay on the plush pink shag carpet struggling against the cuffs as tears began to course down my made up cheeks. Suddenly a pair of white spiked heels appeared in front of my face. I felt Monica's hands under my arms and the chair was pushed upright. Monica knelt between my bound thighs and suddenly my face was in soft, gentle hands and her soft and her wet, pink lips were softly pressed against mine. After a wonderful, long tender kiss, Monica pull back and still holding my head in her hands began to kiss my tears away. Between her kisses Monica explained; "Poor baby, your a mess, you've mussed your hair and ruined your makeup. Now lover, I want you to calm down.... there, that's better. That's my beautiful girl. See baby, everything alright. I'd never really hurt you darling, sometimes being helpless is a real turn on. What we're doing is called bondage and if you try, it can be very exciting. Your very beautiful sitting here all tied up, so sweet and helpless. I want you to feel sexy and very feminine, just like a desirable, gorgeous, submissive woman. We can be each other's lesbian lover, but we have to trust each other. Today, because your so new to this, I'm going to dominate you, be the one in charge. Another day, if you want, I'll be your slut slave and we can make each other feel very, very good. Now, I can understand that things have gone very fast for you, but I want you to enjoy all that's happening to you. I promise that I'll never really hurt you, do you believe me darling?" Monica sealed her promise with a wonderfully long, loving, kiss. "As she broke her lips away from mine I sighed; "Yes Monica I believe you, I've never felt like this and I guess I'm scared at what happening. I never thought dressing like a woman could be such a turn on and I sure never thought that my first real girl friend would be such a special girl, one with a wonderful cock." Then calling on a skill that I had developed over five years of making 'Mother's' calls to my school, I raised my voice a octave and looking straight into my beautiful she-male lover's eyes and softly asked: " Now Monica untie me please and fix my makeup, straighten my hair and help me get dressed, we have lot's to do today." Monica's face lit up in an angelic smile as she purred; "Chri- stina!?" "Yes darling, I'm Christina just like you want. I know what a bitch I can be when I'm upset and I'm sorry. I'd love having you be in charge today. If I have heard you tell me once, I've heard it a hundred times. 'Christina your a real power bitch and you love being in charge.' But I don't really, today you be the way I everyone thinks that I am. I'm going to be the way I always have dreamt of being. Now isn't that the way you want me to be, just like Christina on the outside and just like you secret slave slut on the inside?" Inside of a minuet, I was free and in ten my makeup was repaired and my hair returned to a perfectly coiffed state. I stood up and straightened my slip and camisole and walked over to the bed where the outfit Monica had laid out was neatly piled. I picked up the white, heavy satin blouse, slid my arms into the silky sleeves, and letting myself go totally, turned to Monica and smiled; "Please darling help me button up this." As I let Monica button the back of the blouse I buttoned, or rather tried to fasten the six tiny pearl buttons at each cuff. I found it impossible with the long 'fuck me' red nails that now graced my fingers. Monica gently but firmly spanked my fingers; "Now Christina, let me help, your such a helpless thing." As Monica carefully fasted the delicate pearl buttons to the finely tailored blouse, I found myself enjoying the attention. Once she finished with the buttons, Monica carefully tied the high, tight, ascot neck to Mother's blouse and fastened Mother's onyx broach at my neck. "There, that will help hide you adam's apple, for now. Lift your right foot sweetheart, good....Now the right, there. Let's get your blouse tucked in....There." I felt and heard Monica close the zipper to Mother's, no Christina's, my, calf length black suede, tightly tapered, skirt. Monica soft voice whispered in my ear; "You look yummy darling, sit down and let's put your boots on. No dear, that not how you sit down. Stand up and try again, smooth your skirt under you and remember to sit like a lady, that's better but do it again." I stood and reseated myself again and again while Monica polished my movements and explained just what to do. I tried to remember just how Mother, Monica and Jessica moved, sat, what they did with there hands, how they sat, everything. My Monica was lavish with her praise; "Your turning into a wonderful and beautiful woman darling. I think that were ready to get your boots on you and see how you do in heels." Monica unzipped the black suede leather boot with there sexy, gleaming four inch metallic gold pencil thin spiked heels and the pulled them carefully on. I couldn't believe it, the boots fit perfectly. Monica zipped the boots and helped me stand. After about ten minuets of wobbling around I finally began to get the hang of walking gracefully in the towering heels and after a half hour of walking and posing for Monica, she pronounced me ready. "Baby, you have a real talent for this Christina honey. Looking at you standing there, no one will ever guess your little secret. Tell me Christina, how do you feel?" I looked down at my hands, the sight of my long red nails against the black suede leather of my skirt, the sight of my sexy, high heeled boots, the white satin of my blouse, the hidden tightness of the black satin waist cinch coupled with the restrictive tightness of my skirt all combined to excite me beyond my wildest imagination. I gave my head a little shake and felt the silky hair of my long auburn tresses brush against my neck. I could taste the creamy red lipstick that made my lips so kissable feminine, feel the weight of the false eyelashes and the mask like effect of my makeup. Suddenly, more then anything I want to see how I looked as a woman, I loved the idea that instead of a unassuming nothing of a teenage boy that the person that looked back at from a mirror would be a desirable, sexy, woman dressed the way a woman should dress, seductive, aristocratic, stunning. The kind of woman that other women envied and men desired. Stepping close to my she-male lover I melted into her arms and softly whispered; "How do I really feel darling? I feel lovely and loved. I want to finnish getting dressed, everything. I want you to feel towards me the way I feel towards you." Dropping my eyes from Monica's and my voice down to a whisper, I continued; "I want you to make my clitty cock feel good and I want to make your clitty cock feel just as good. And darling, if I'm a bad girl, I want you to tie me up just as tight as you want to, if I say bad things you could even gag me." Monica smiled and answered; "I'm going to hold you to that, but first sweetheart, I want you to become totally comfortable with the changes that your going through. But before I introduce you to bondage games that big girls play, I think you should finish getting dressed. Turning, she picked up the black suede jacket and held it for me while I slipped into it. As I fastened the jackets bottom button I marveled at how perfect the fit was. This was all a dream come true. Looking at my long, perfect shaped, ultra feminine nails, the wet looking cherry red polish that screamed sex, I truly felt a mental gear shift. I loved the look of those long, shining, red nails on my hands. I loved the restrictive feel of the suits tight skirt and the sway of my hips the spiked heels caused. I tried to form a perfect picture in my mind of how mother walked, her mannerisms, the way she held her self, her total persona. Without a word, I walked over to the bed and picked up the long, dangling gold and onyx earrings and carefully put them on. I let the Richard part of my mind breath a sigh of relief that he had gotten his ears pierced a year ago. The weight of the glittering cascades that hung from my earlobe was both slightly painful and impossibly erotic. The matching tennis bracelet was next followed by the ring. I picked up the rolex with it's black lizard strap and carefully put it on my left wrist, mincing the gestures that I had seem mother make a thousand times. I picked up my purse and gloves and turned to face Monica. "Well Monica, how do I look? Do I pass inspection?" As I spoke, I gave my head a little shake, mother's always doing that and was rewarded by the sight of the sight of my golden red tresses. Since I was trying so hard to remember exactly how mother talked, walked, acted and looked I felt a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Mom's hair was a golden blond. "Monica!" I blurted out; "Mom's blond, not a red head." Monica just laughed; "You silly thing, I was wondering how long it would take you to notice." As she spoke, Monica pulled away the sheet that covered the full length mirror. The person whose beautiful reflection stared back at me literally took my breath away. From her perfectly done mane of golden auburn hair, her green eyes sparkled from under long, lush lashes, her face was perfectly made up, her black suede leather suit showed off her full, splendid female body to perfection. She had firm, full breasts, a small flat waist, and a great ass, a body that screamed sex. Her long shapely legs were shown off by the second skin of black suede leather boots whose four inch heels rein- forced the image of a dominate, completely female on the prowl for cock. The woman in the mirror, almost of her own volition let a hand with her long, slick, wet red nails trace her flat waist and slowly rose to her 38DD breasts, breasts that seem even larger due to the small waist. I both loved and lusted for the woman whose reflection I smiled seductively at. Yes, she was a perfect study in sex appeal, but ever since she was 14 Jessica Marie DeChombonard has worked at conveying exactly that impres- sion, and it was her, my sister, in whose image I was created. I was her beautiful twin. Monica moved over next to me. "Well darling, are you pleased?"; she breathed. Unable to tear my eyes away from the woman that I somehow had become, I answered; "You said you were going to dress me up like Mommy?" "Darling, I wanted to see if you could, would, give yourself up to a fantasy role. If you were willing to play at Christina unseen, I think that you'll love the new you. I know that I do. Your really very beautiful Jessica." Still letting my right hand explore my wonderful new shape, I sighed softly in reply; "I guess so, I don't know. I'd just got used to the idea of playing at preten- ding to be Mommy, now you want me to look and act like Jessica. That's what you want, isn't it?" When I had asked the question, I'd had no idea just how far Monica intended to take this game. The rest of the day and late into the evening passed in a haze. Monica coached me on how top walk, how to talk, what to say. How to sit, how to stand. How to fix my makeup, how to straighten my hair. Everything about Jessica, how to let a man light my cigarette (Virginia slim light 120's). About 9 P.M. the phone rang and if Monica hadn't warned me, I'd have answered in my new 'Jessica voice'. It was the real Monica. It was a totally surreal experience, talking to the 'real' Monica while 'my' Monica sat across from me. The upshot was that Monica wouldn't be home until 9 A.M. tomorrow. My Monica to the extra time to continue what she now referred to as my 'charm school' lesson. About midnight, Monica took me into Mommy's bedroom and had me carefully remove and hang up the suede suit, the satin blouse and put away the purse, gloves, boots half slip, camisole and jewelry. I was left standing there in my waist cinch, hose, panties and bra. Monica went into the closet and returned with a pair of black patent 5 inch spiked heel pumps and a black negligee. Now the woman in the mirror was a vision in sheer black lace and black satin. From a power bitch dressed for success to a beautiful, vulnerable woman dressed for seduc- tion. Leaving me standing there, Monica disappeared for ten minuets. When she returned, the nurse was gone, totally. Monica now wore a pink satin and lace garter belt, matching panties pink lace hose and pink satin mule with soaring spiked heels. Her hair was done up with a pink satin ribbon and in her hands she carried a tray with a open bottle of champagne and two crystal flutes. Sitting the tray down on the bedside table, Monica sat down on the bed and patted the satin comforter next to her. "Come and set beside me Darling." Monica's voice had a seductive tone that drew me to the bed, my knees weak and my pulse pounding. Gracefully she poured two glasses of the sparkling wine and handed me one. Carefully taking it, I sipped at the ice cold champagne greedily while Monica told me how well I had done today and that she knew from the second we met that she and I would be more then friends. Magically my glass refilled and Monica shifted to how lovely I was and how for so long she had hope that I might feel for her what she felt for me. Then, my glass was empty the full, then empty and I was in Monica's arms, my lips hard against hers, our tongues exploring each others hungry mouths. Gently Monica guided my hand to her silky panties and then I could feel her excitement. Slowly Monica freed herself from the confines of her panties and I for the first time in my life I found myself softly stroking someone else's rock hard cock, a beautiful woman's wonderful satin smooth penis. Taking the empty glass from my other hand, Monica placed them carefully on the table and moved further back on the bed and lay back drawing me with her. "That so nice baby." Monica moaned over and over. Then her hand were on my head and slowly, gently she began to force my head down towards her waiting cock. Weakly I tried to resist the gentle but constant pressure the slowly brought my bright red lip closer and closer to Monica's huge tool, already wet with pre-cum. "Monica please, I don't want to suck you, I've never done this. I'm not a sissy." I begged. Monica's strong hands kept up there relentless pressure and I slowly slid down over her silky smooth torso. "Yes baby, do me, you. Make me feel good. Monica need her cock sucked by her new girlfriend. Come on Jessica, your my cocksucking pretty bitch from now on. Your going to do what ever I tell you and right now Monica says 'suck cock Jessica.' Now open those pretty red lips and do me, open wide for Monica's nice hard cock and suck my sweet cum, come on Jessica, my beautiful she-male darling." Then, there it was, a stiff, hard cock right in front of my face. A cock free of hair, wet with pre-cum, waiting. "Please Monica!" I pleaded; "Don't make me do this. I'm not a cocksucker, I'm a good girl!" Monica's voice snapped like a slap; "No Jessica, your not a good girl, your a slut, my slut. Now bitch, suck Monica's cock and pretty bitch Jessica had better suck it right." Almost of their on volition my lips parted and rounded into the 'O' shape of a whore getting ready for a big, hard penis. Firmly, but gently, Monica forced my head down to her waiting tool. Then her cock was against my lips, the salty taste of her milky pre-cum mixing with the taste of the champagne, exciting me. I snaked my hand under too gently cup her silky smooth scrotal sack. The feel of Monica's balls in my hand excited me even further. My tongue shot out and like a sweet vanilla ice cream cone, I began to lick my she-male lovers raging hard on. As I licked, I gently began to squeeze Monica's ball's. My efforts were reward by a deep moan from my lover; "Oh yes Jessica, that right, that my darling pretty bitch." Her moan's excited me further, and suddenly I loved the feel of her satin cock, then surrendering totally to my new role, I slid my lips down over the head of Monica's beautiful hard-on. Toungeing her inside my mouth brought a sigh of pleasure from my darling, then I began to slid my lips up and down her shaft, trying to take as much of her wondrous she-male meat into my mouth as I could. Monica's hips began to move in rhythm with mine. Her cock oozed a copious amount of salty pre- cum which mixed with my saliva made her shaft slick and wet. Then on an upstroke I saw my reflection in the mirror. I saw a titan haired fox dressed in sexy, tight black lingerie, black patent high spiked heels and dusky sheer hose with her loves lipstick smeared cock between her lips. The fact that her lover was a beautiful she-male made the picture even more exciting. The beautiful slut in the mirror was the perfect picture of a cock sucking whore, dressed to thrill and having her mouth pussy used to please her lover, her Mistress, her Goddess. unable to tear my eyes away from this erotic picture, I watch as the slut in the waist crushing black corset head moved ever faster, as more and more of her darling's cock slid into her mouth and down her throat with every stroke. Monica was now screaming "Suck me Jessica, suck me bitch!" over and over, her hips wildly bucking, her hands pressing hard to force her man-meat into my hungry mouth. The her entire body convulsed and I felt her balls literately jump in my gently squeezing hand as my darlings wonderful cum flooded my now desperate mouth. I swallowed her warm, salty seed as if it was the finest of wine, the thick white flooded my hungry mouth. I could feel some escaping my wanting lips. The slut in the mirror was lapping at her lovers cum like a bitch in heat. And that is what I was, a bitch whose only thought was cum, cock and pleasure. Monica's pluseing cock finally stop shooting it wonderful jets of thick, rich cum and her hands relaxed. "That was wonderful darling"; Monica whispered. "Now lick me clean, lick up every last drop of cum, oh that right, god that feels so nice, lick my cock till it's nice and clean. That's a good bitch, that's my wonderful slut. " Then her cock was clean and Monica pulled me up to her and took me in her arms, my lips gently pressed to hers, her tongue cleaning my lips and face of her seed. Then, laying on my mothers huge bed, dressed in my mothers sexy, tight corset, her spiked heels on my feet, Mom's silky sheer hose on my legs, I fell asleep in my lovers arms. "Wake up sleepy head unless you want to explain to Monica what your doing in your Mother's clothes." My Monica was gone, in her place Mark stood, smiling at me. My embarrassment faded in the rush to get the house and my self back to the way it had been. Once back in my male self, I found that Mark was friendly to me, but showed no visible sexual interest in me. I didn't know if I was hurt or relived. Still by eight both myself and the house were back in shape, the myself end helped by Mark's makeup wizardry. It was almost nine when Mark walked over to the door and handed me a card with his home phone number on it. "Richard if you want to play again, call me. If you don't, well I understand. I just want you to know that I loved everything we did yesterday and I hope you'll call. If I'm not home leave a message, Just say 'This is Rikki and I want you to do a make over' and I'll know that you want continue with what we started. Bye, just for now I hope. Handing me a package wrapped in tape he turned and went out the door. Then he was gone. About half an hour later I first heard Monica's Porsch and then the sound of the key in lock. Plopping down on the bed, I grabbed a book and tried to act startled as Monica knocked and then entered my bedroom. "Well Richard, the house look fine, I think that your getting mature enough for your Mother not to worry about you being alone. I'll make sure to tell her. She should be back today. Now, I'm beat. Be a dear and wake me at 3 this afternoon, will you?" "Sure Aunt Monica." I searched desperately for a sign that she suspected that anything was wrong. As soon as I heard Monica's bedroom door shut, I started to drop both Mark's card and package in the trash. I felt slightly used and certainly didn't think that I'd ever take him up on turning me into a girl again. But, I finally put his package into the bottom of my clothes hamper and dropped his card into my junk drawer. Mom came in that evening and everything fell back more or less into routine. I stayed out of Mom and Monica's way pretty much. No sense in exposing myself to too much scrutiny until my body hair grew back. Mom was pleased with Monica's report on how I'd handled my 24 hours alone and decided that Richard didn't need to be baby sat any more. Mark's card was stuck deep in my 'junk drawer' and the entire episode seemed to fade into a half dream. The tape wrapped package in my hamper however went from the back of my mind to the front, what was in it? Maybe I should open it before Mom or Monica found it? What if Mark had taken pictures of me and they were in there?. Still, for the first week the package sat untouched. The only change in the routine of the household during this entire affair was that Monica rented a small furnished room near the hospital and announced that she would stay there during her 4 days on and be home for her 4 days off. The same day this happened I finally gave in to my curiosity and opened the pack- age. Inside were four cassette tapes titled 'MAIDEN SONGS' 1 thur 4 and a large bottle of pills and a tube of cream. The pills were labeled 'Muscle Relaxers' and the cream was labeled 'For Soreness'. That night I put Maiden Songs 1 in my Walkman and thought that I'd at least check it out. The music was real laid back, kind of a Kenny G. type thing and so relaxing that I fell asleep with it playing. The next morning I woke to a pair of dead batteries in the old Walkman and a backache that wouldn't quit. I tried two of the pills and within minuets the backache was history. School wasn't to start for another week and I only have three classes, all simple minded state requirements so I wasn't worried about studying during Christmas break. That night I found I couldn't sleep, so I popped the first 'Maiden Song' tape in again and boom, I was out like a light. As school started again I found that I was taking those muscle relaxers four times a day and rubbing the cream on my face and arms morning and night. I found my chest was sore allot and I spent more and more time fantasizing about the day with Mark, fantasies that I tried to suppress. The third weekend after schools restarted and just in time for the MLK holiday and about a month after Monica had rented the room, Mom called me into her room. When I entered, Mom was sitting at her vanity doing her makeup, she was dressed in a pink satin short wrap that showed her white nyloned leg clear up to her garter top. "Baby"; Mom began; "I have to go to New York for three days and Monica still has three days to go till her weekend. While Monica thinks your big enough to stay by your- self, I'm still worried. But if you say you'll be fine, I'll give you this chance." Well darling?" As I watched Mom putting her deep red lipstick on, I answered. "I'll be fine Mom, really, if there an emergency, I'll call Aunt Monica, honest." Mother put down her lipstick and bent over to put on her red patent pumps. As she did so, her wrap split open to reveal her taunt red garter straps and the tie side of her matching panties. Unwilling I felt my cock growing hard as she sat up and put her red enameled earrings on. Looking in the mirror, not at me, Mom continued; "If your really sure, then I guess that three days isn't long enough for you to tear the house up too much." Pausing to pat her face with pressed powder, she added "But no parties and no more then two people in at a time. Hand me my purse, the red one on the bed." I reached over and picked it up then took it to her. As I got close the scent of the perfume made my head spin. "If there is a real emergency call your sister, she can be here allot quicker then Monica. Her beeper number is on the Roledex in my office. Now dear here is $100.00, that should be enough to keep you in pizza for three days. Now shoo so I can finish getting dressed. I wandered out to the living room and turned on the TV. Not twenty minuets Mom walked in. She was wearing a red wool Channel suit with a white silk shawl collared blouse, white hose and of course red spiked heel pumps. Over her shoulder hung a kicky matching red purse and folded over her arm was a matching red swing coat. In her hand was a pair of red leather bracelet length gloves. "Well Darling, do I pass inspection?" As I rolled over and smiled back, the thought 'I'd look better in it' popped totally unbidden into my mind. "You look great Mom, I got up and Mom turned her cheek to me; "Kissy dear." I gave her a kiss, careful not to muss her makeup. She handed a twenty and said "Why don't you try to catch a movie while I'm gone dear, I'll call you tonight at 9 P.M. Be good." With that she was gone. I sat on the couch and tried to watch TV, then when that didn't work went out in the back yard. I turned the Hot tub on and thought that I'd let it heat up and take a soak, but visions of my mother kept jumping into my head, visions of her clothes, her jewelry, her sexy undies, her shoes, visions of all those things on me. I went back inside and wandered around, looked at some more TV, got up after about five minuets and went into my room. Almost with out thinking, Mark's card was in my hand and I found my self dialing. After Mark's recorder came on I heard someone say in a sexy woman's voice; "Hi baby, this is Rikki and I need a make over, I have three days to myself and I can't wait. Bye Bye." Trying to resist the feelings that overwhelmed me without even the slightest success, I went into Mom's bath and turned the shower on and picking up her Nair and her razor proceeded to get rid of the stubble where my sparse body hair was just beginning to grow back. Twenty short minuets late found me completely hairless from the neck down as I toweled dry with one of Mom's huge terry soft pink bath towels. Next, I found myself at Mom's vanity, my brows tweezed to pencil thin arches and a pair of Mom's diamond studs in my ears. Completely on auto-pilot now slipped into one of my Mom's swimsuits, one piece, but very sexy. Frowning slightly at my almost flat chest and the most unladylike bulge in my crotch I smoothed a cucumber mask over my now hairless face. Five minuets later found me relaxing in the hot tub, a glass of white wine in my hand. As I slowly sipped the delightful cold wine, I felt the weeks of tension flow out of me. I'd made my choice and now felt far more like Rikki then Richard. I wondered what Mark had planned for me this time. Whatever (as if we didn't know) are these 'Maiden Song' Tapes and why (as if, again, we didn't know) is Richard's chest sore. What changes are in store for our evolving hero(ine). Will he spend this long weekend as 'Jessica' or does Mark have other plans for 'Rikki'. P.S. I still believe that I am the only CD'ing D&D player in Atlanta, am I? Hugs, Desiree ****************************** This file came from Sierra Connection BBS Serving the Gender Community from Nevada 702-825-4220 8-N-1 28.8 VF (4 Nodes) Home of the Fiction Story Writing Contest Home of the Gif Beauty Contest RIKKI3.TXT Welcome back to the saga of our slightly unwilling boy to she-male. Thanks to those who wrote with such kind words and we hope that this part is as enjoyable. TRADING PLACES - Part 3 By Ms. Desiree Foster I relaxed in the warm, bubbling water, loving (for a reason totally beyond me) the feel of the cucumber mask as it dried on my now almost hairless face. As I reached for my wine glass on the edge of tub, I caught sight of my hand and fingers. God how bunt and ugly my hands looked without the inch long acrylic fashion nails. I felt myself begin to grow erect under Mom's one piece thong suit and let my free hand slip beneath the hot caressing waters. Freeing my now -hard boy thing, I began to slow stroke and caress myself to an erection. No more hard quick strokes for this girl, not any more. No, soft, teasing touch, gentle pressure, and of course stopping to pay attention to my thighs, all slick, wet, and hairless, my wonderfully sensitive nipples (how could I have missed those marvelous, exciting sources of pleasure) and just let my freshly shaved legs rub each other. I brought my self to the brink, the let my self relax, each approach to relief more demanding, more exquisite then the last. A sip of wine and letting myself explore my body, touching and stroking, then a return to my masturbatory heaven. So lost was I in my auto-erotic loving that the sound of the high heels on the deck behind me caused my heart to go from pleasant ex- citement to a trip hammer trying to break out of my chest. I knocked my glass into the tub in my haste to turn and terrified that it was Mom or worse Monica looked up into the face of a beautiful stranger. The woman smiling down at me was perhaps 25 and had the most beautiful blue eyes I'd ever seen, her gorgeous mane of dark blond hair was a shining bouncing cascade that flowed to just past mid-shoulder. Her perfect body was dressed to show off a to-die-for figure. She was perfect in skin tight winter white leggings under a marvelously soft matching hip length cowl neck sweater that hugged her in all the 'just right' places. Her leggings disappeared into low heeled, well about two inches really, lace up, ankle high, white leather granny styled boot. Peeking over the cowl neck of her sweater was a quarter sized heart shaped gold pendent outlined in sparkling emeralds. The pendent hung from a delicate gold chain and matched exactly the earrings that glittered at her ears. Her makeup was all frosted pinks, wet and sexy on her lips and matte and pretty on her eyes and cheeks. "Her eyes held a mischievous glint that combined amusement and maybe just a bit of lust. My mouth tried to work, to say something, make some type of explanation, but nothing would come out. Needless less to say, my boy-thing was trying to retreat inside somewhere near my stomach. Then a soft and gentle laugh, like the tinkling of bell. " Darling, I'm so sorry that I startled you." Her voice was a wonderful soft alto. "But I was afraid that you would finish with out me. Crouching gracefully, she extended her perfectly manicured right hand, her inch long pink nails sexy and ever so female. "I'm Marrisa, Mark's better half, his much better half I think." Drying my hand quickly, I tried to return her dazzling smile. As I grasped her (I simply couldn't think of this vision as male in any way, shape or form) hand, her left hand (graced I could see with a breathtaking wedding set) gently slapped my hand. "Gently dear, like a lady, not like some macho jerkoff, if you'll forgive my pun." With a will of it's own, my boy-thing made a reappearance and my voice joined it. "Marrisa?! Oh darling, your beautiful! You look like..." "Kathy Ireland, yes dear I know. It's taken lot's of work, but she is my ideal and there certainly worse girls I could resemble. Now baby, don't move!" With out another word she began to undress, no not just undress, a slow sensual strip show for her audience of one. How she got the boots unlaced and off was magical, a white pair of silky panties and her white push up bra were the last to go, well almost the last. Marrisa stood there in her flesh cover gaff (where ever had I picked up that word?). Slowly she freed herself from the restraining elastic and rubber. Slowly, sensually she lowered herself into the steamy water and directly into my arms. The first second of the eternal kiss we shared dispelled any doubt that this breathtaking woman in my arms was my darling lover. I could feel her sweet secret, her clitty-cock grow hard as our tongues explored each others warm, wanting mouths. Then, again as if by magic, Marrisa's hand guided mine to her waiting ex- citement. The feel of her girl-meat in my hand brought me to full excitement as I felt her nail gently trace the length of my penis from my hairless ball all the way to the silky head. This touch almost cause me to cum right then, but, sensing my ex- citement, Marrisa shifted her had to the base of my straining clitty-cock and clamping down with gentle strength stopped the flood of boy juice that was trying so hard to escape me. Breaking from our forever kiss, she laughed; "Darling Rikki, I'm glad that you seem eager to see me, but we have three whole days and I don't want you all tired out before we even start.' The second that the moment of my almost orgasm passed, she began to softly squeeze my now rock hard balls. The sensation was a blissful mix of pleasure with exactly the right amount of pain. A soft moan escaped my lips as with a will of it's own, free hand gently snuck up to caress a perfect breast. They were real! Her beautiful mounds of titty flesh were perfect and real. 'That right Rikki'; my she-male lover moaned, "play with my tittys, I love that. Do you like my titties Rikki? Would you like to have titties sweetheart. Tell me darling, what kind of titties, real titties, would my pretty Rikki like to have." Exploding from deep within my sub-conscious came my answer, one that surprised me both in content and feeling. "Want big titties, huge sexy mounds of wonderful girl flesh. I want to look like one of the bimbo's in "Sex to Sixty". Can you do this for me darling." I moaned helpless in the vision in my mind, a wasp waist, full woman's hips, and huge, impossibly firm tits. The kind that would transform me from a nothing male into a male wet dream. As this vision overtook me totally, Marrisa skillfully brought me to a shuddering orgasm. In that second, unknown to me, as my cock shot it's milky load into the swirling waters, bimbo hood and sex were forever joined. Still milking my passion from my endless jetting boy-meat, Marrisa free hand somehow found the wine glass in the water. Once my passion was spent, she slipped up onto the edge of the tub, her straining meat proudly erect between her perfect female thighs. Holding the glass in front of the en- gorged head she commanded; 'Jerk me off Baby, milk my shaft, get my milk Rikki." I redoubled my efforts, my right hand stoking her ivory velvet shaft, my left cupping and squeezing her heavy cum filled balls. "Please Marrisa let me suck, let me kiss it." A whiny, pleading crept into my voice. I was unable to tear my eyes from the beautiful shaft of my lovers penis just inches from my trembling lips. "Darling, just do as your told and I assure you that I'm going to make this weekend one that you'll look back on and cum just at the thought of. OH yes baby, we are going to expand your horizons to whole new worlds. Now hurry up darling, oh yes, that right baby, stoke my cock for me, Make Marrisa feel real good, stroke my meat, make me cum, that's right, squeeze my balls, that right, yes, oh fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck yes baby, fuck yes pretty bitch, YES!" Her body gave a start and she thrust her hips forward, almost hitting the end of her cumming cock on the end of the wine glass. My efforts with my lovers penis were rewarded by an explosion of cum that shot with un- believable force into the wine glass. It seemed as if she would never stop, and with a never ending series of pulsing jets the level of cum-milk in the glass rose, one-eighth, one-quarter, then a half full. Once she had emptied herself of boy-cum, my love reached down and with her left hand tilted my chin up so I looked into her sparking blue eyes and smiling she slowly poured the cum over my waiting face. My hands shot to my face, trying to guide the thick, rich boy milk to my hungry, wanting mouth. The feeling of needing to drink the thick boy juices my lover was slowly pouring on my waiting face overwhelming. I lapped at it like a dog, a bitch in heat. I felt my hands smearing Marrisa's love over my face, and knew exactly what I must look like, a mindless, cum hungry slut. But I simply didn't care. Or to be more exact, I was getting exactly what I wanted, my lovers hot, salty cum, and that was what mattered. Then my cum hunger was sated for the moment, well not really, but the glass was empty and I didn't want to seem greedy. and once again Marrisa slipped her perfect body into the water and my cum covered lips meet with her hungry tongue. She liked me clean as a mother cat would clean her kitten. The cleaning was interspersed with hard, long kisses that made my boy-balls ache with wanting that they couldn't fulfill, for now. A quick dunk and we both were free, more or less of or passions' wet, sticky seed and Marrisa helped me, week kneed from the hot tub. Leaving her clothes in an hung over the back of the deck chair, we went in the house, laughing and giggling, like teenagers. Taking me by the hand Marrisa lead me to Mother huge shower and pulling me inside turned the water onto a warm spray and pealing my (well I thought of it as mine) suit off soaped me and washed my now shoulder length hair (I just couldn't seem to make my self go to the barber). I loved the attention, her soft hand on my soapy body and having my hair washed was sexy beyond belief. Then pressing the soap into my hand she reached up and began to remove the green cucumber facial mask! I'd forgotten it totally. Unable not to, I asked; "Marrisa darling, how do I look with a green face?" Turning me to face her, her slick, soapy groin up against my as she slowly stripped the facial off, she whispered in a throaty voice with real passion; "Darling, I'd love you regardless of what you have on your face. This glop just makes you seem a little more female, more like a pretty girl trying to stay that way. After all, it's something that we girls have to do to stay pretty. And I know how much you want to be pretty and admired. Isn't that what you want?" Her question seemed to trigger a response from deep inside me. "More then anything. Rinsing us both off, Marrisa turned the water off and reach of the huge bath towel hanging from the rack, wrapped it around the two of us, pressing our wet, slick bodies tightly together, her soft full breast pressing into my slightly swollen, slightly sore chest. The kiss this time did last forever and in that timeless place I felt her nipples grow hard as I melted into her supple and strong embrace. But even forever ends. As we slowly and reluctantly broke apart slightly, Marrisa, her face lit up with and angelic smile whispered in my ear as she dried me off; "We can't spend the whole day like this, I still want to get you dressed up. Now, I want you to be Jessica for me darling." I looked into Marrisa's eyes; "But Marrisa' I don't want to be Jessica, I want to be Rikki." I whined. "Now darling, you said that you wanted to be my bimbo, didn't you?" "Well yes, I do, but why do I have to pretend to be some one else?" I asked. Marrisa let a little steel creep into her voice; "A bimbo darling, is who ever her lover wants her to be. In fact, for the rest of this weekend I want you to act like Jessica, talk like Jessica and dress like Jessica. I want you to answer to her name. I want you to be Jessica. As to why, because you want to please me. Now come on in the bed room, so I can start your transformation." Quietly I followed, my mind in a turmoil. Why this thing about pretending to be my sister, because when she worked her transformation magic on me I could look so much like her. But when would she transform me to my ideal. Would she ever, I wondered. When? But she was right about one thing, being a bimbo meant being a sexual plaything and that's what I wanted. Unbidden a thought came into my mind that made me smile; 'I want to be a blonde joke." I don't know why but the idea was wonderful. Relaxed I followed Marrisa into my mothers bedroom. The laptop computer was already set up and the blank head sat on the pillow. Without even the slightest of protest, I let Marrisa give me the sleepy time shot. As I felt the drug wash over me felt the cold metal of the head close over my waiting face. Like Sleeping Beauty, I woke to a kiss. Except in my case it was from my Princess Charming. And as I woke to this vision, I realized that she was a Princess, my Princess, my wonderful, beautiful Princess Marrisa. I wanted to please her, have her be proud of me, want me. It was by being pretty, desirable and malleable that I would please her and make her want me, then she would be proud of me. Marrisa had dressed, out of the open suitcase on the end of the bed and I was in love. Kathy Ireland dressed in Barbie's clothes. Oh yes, I had an entire collection of Barbie hidden away, some of which I guess is worth something. No one knows about it (or so I thought) and Barbie had provided me with many happy hours, even more so once I had discovered masturbation. Now in front of me was one of my very favorites fantasies come to stunning life. While I'd slept, Marrisa had fixed her hair in a ass length pony tail and redone her makeup to an exact duplicate of a 1959 Barbie. She was dressed in a emerald green satin evening suit with a white satin camisole. The jacket was bolero styled, the skirt tapered with a hip length peplem. Marrisa still wore her earrings and pendent that she'd arrived with but added a matching tennis bracelet. Her nails were a perfect pale pink and a green satin pillbox style was pinned perfectly in place. She looked as if she has stepped right off the page of one of my Barbie catalogs. Just looking at her caused my boy-thing to remind me that I'd had enough rest for it to appreciate what I saw. "Well darling, I'm glad that you fancy all the work I went to. " As she spoke Marrisa did a slow modeling turn, the satin of her outfit whispering seduction. Smiling and pivoting gracefully on the super slim spiked heels of her emerald green satin pumps, Marrisa let me have a long look at her tight sexy ensemble. Moving back over to the bed, Marrisa let an outrageously exaggerated look of shock come over her lovely face as she pulled back Mother's satin sheet. "Why Jessica you have a cock! And it's hard!" As I reached down to touch my engorged clitty-cock I caught sight of my bright, wet, cherry red inch and half long sculpted nails. I became aware of the weight on my chest and realized that Marrisa had already worked her transformation magic, well at least some of it. I let my eyes travel to the angled mirror on the far wall that reflected the length of the pink satin canopy bed (nothing as slutty as a mirrored ceiling for Mommy dearest) and my breath stopped. My sister Jessica lay on the bed, her mane of light auburn hair spread over the pink satin of the huge, soft pillow. My face was a picture perfect fantasy, cherry red lips, eyes made up with just the right amount of hot pink shadow, blended to the palest of pastel pink at my high arching brows. My sparkling green eyes looked out from under long, lush lashes rich mascara. My beautiful, sexy sister Jessica regarded herself with a pouting smile as she gently fondled her 38DD breasts with one hand and her stiff cock with the other. The slowly, lovingly, the Barbie Doll came close and gently moved my hand away from my rock hard she-male meat. Then slowly her head moved toward my straining hard-on. With out a word this vision of perfection gently kissed the head of my penis. The sight in the mirror was all my secret dreams come to life as Barbie/Kathy/Marrisa's soft, silky, pink lips enveloped my penis in a slow, wonderful downward motion. I could feel my lovers tongue dance over first the head then the shaft of my erection as, ever so slowly, she took me completely into her wanting mouth. A moan from the depths of my soul escaped as pleasure overwhelmed me. Her lips were now pressed up against the base of my hard-on, I could feel her breath on my meat the was buried deep in her throat. Believing that no feeling could be as wonderful as what I had felt, she began ever so slowly to raise her head. "Oh darling, yes"; I half moaned, half screamed. I felt as if my clitty-cock would explode from the pleasure that my darling was giving me, but again Marrisa's strong, sure fingers squeezed the base of my shaft to deny me the immediate release I sought. I watched in the mirror as the beautiful woman in the shiny green satin pink lips slowly slid up the now lipstick smeared shaft of the big tited, red haired she- male who lay naked on the gleaming pink satin sheet. Over and over the stunning, living Barbie Doll's insatiable mouth slid down my hard-on and over and over brought me to the edge of bliss. Each time I was denied the release that I was now begging for, pleading for. I was moaning and withering as the tides of need demanded and were withheld. The stunning redhead in the mirror was reduced to a mindless slut whose need overwhelmed everything else. My universe narrowed to my lovers lips and mouth and my cock, nothing else mattered. I could hear Jessica as she begged her Barbie for the release she now wanted, needed. "God, please let me cum"; I pleaded. "Please, darling, oh please. Your my goddess, my darling, Please make Jessica cum, make Jessica's cock cum, Oh fucking jesus darling, let me cum." The I found my self panting, just making little animal noises as I tried to buck, to force myself into her mouth, desperate to obtain the relief that lover so skillfully denied me. My balls ached with need, my cherry red nails clawed at the pink satin sheets and my body arched with wanting. Suddenly, her mouth was all over my cock, all at once, her tongue darting, her lips sucking, her hand kneading my painfully full testicles. My orgasm swept over me like a tidal wave, my cock emptying it's load deep in my lovers waiting mouth. The room first swam, then darkened. My reality became the endless waves of ecstasy the engulfed me. As I passed out all I could see was the beautiful redhead in the mirror. Her lovely face was a animal mask of pleasure, her voice screaming "Fuck me darling"; over and over. As I slowly came back to reality, Instead of the empty ache of my spent need what I felt was a warm glow that spread thur my entire body. Marrisa stood smiling as she reapplied her lipstick. "Well Darling, back with us?" Then she reach out and ever so gently stoked my arm. "Nothing make a woman more beautiful then that well fucked glow." I let my eyes go back to the mirror and found that, again, Marrisa was right. I fairly glowed, my smile one of pure contentment. "Now Darling, I want you to get that sweet ass of yours out of bed and get dressed, we have dinner reservations for eight and our dates will be here at seven. It's five thirty now, so you really don't have lots of time." My glow evaporated in a flash of pure panic. "What in god's name are you talking about, date's? Jesus Marrisa, are you out of you mind!" "Calm down Darling, listen to your self. Even as upset as you seem, your voice is still perfect. Now, listen to me. We're going out together, with our dates and were going to have a lovely time. First dinner, then maybe a club. Your going to be beautiful and admired. Your date is going to love what he see's and I'm sure that he'll remain a gentleman. I have an outfit all picked out for you, Your sister bought it at I. Magnum and your Mother picked it up. You know your sister, when she buys an outfit, she does it from the skin out." Pointing to a pile of boxes and a two hanging garment bags, Marrisa continued; "Sweetheart, you know that you want to do this and your going to have the time of your life tonight, cocktails, dinner, drinks, dancing. Now lover, get dressed, I'm starting to feel overdressed and out of place." I slid off the satin sheets and made a quick visit to the ladies room to clean up my boy thing and then back to the bedroom. The top box was toped with a pink bow and a card. T unfolded it and read "To my darling, our secrets are so wonder- ful." I opened the box and found a gaff exactly like the one Marrisa wore under her leggings. I needed help getting it on for the first time, but after some fumbling and giggling , my wonder- ful boy-thing was safely tucked away and out of sight if not out of mind. The second box, as were the rest, were from I. Magnum. My worry about not only going out in public for the first time, but going out with a date, a man, faded in the christmas like feeling of opening my sister's presents (no matter how unin- tended) to her new alter ego. I spilled the first box on the bed. A black satin Victorian waist cinch, matching panties and a pair of silky sheer black, back seamed, thigh high hose. As I struggled into the breathtaking (both because it was so tight and because it was so beautiful) heavily boned waist cinch I turned to admired the new me the waist cinch created. My waist shrank from 28 to 22 inches and without even wondering why, I knew that my measurements were now 40-22-37. My date would have to love a girl with a figure like that, wouldn't he? As Marrisa pulled the last little bit needed to close the back of the waist cinch I giggled at the thought of how my date would react when he felt the heavy satin waist cinch as he held me close as we danced. I smoothed the dusky seamed hose on, making a Mrs. Robinson show out of it which Marrisa seemed to like, calling me 'a tease"; and adding; 'you know that we don't have time for each other right now baby.' As soon as I had the garters fastened and pulled the straps taunt on my sexy hose, I slipped my brief red satin panties on, pulling them up and over first my hose, then my garter straps. I pulled the panties up tight and my gaff disap- peared. Now my secret really was, unless my date got in my panties, that is. Putting on the wonderful and sexy lingerie made me feel so completely female that my fear of the upcoming date took a back seat to my joy in dressing from the skin out as a exquisite and alluring woman. I was so lost in my pleasure at how I looked that I hadn't notice that Marrisa had produced a video recorder and was taping my impromptu modeling session. I started to object (what if Mom saw the tape), but her obvious pleasure and her coaching on just how to show off to the camera so had me prancing around like a Christie Brinkley wanna-be. While Marrisa continued her taping, I resumed dressing up. The next box yielded up and unexpected treasure, a black longline bra with a really low back, the cups were underwired, low cut and gently cradled and pushed my already impressive breasts up and up giving me breathtaking cleavage. Showing myself off to the video camera, I found the thought of being filmed more and more ex- citing. Twirling in front of the mirror to make sure that my seams were straight, I tried to give the camera a show that should have melted the shutter, well I hope that at the least that I raised Marrisa's body heat a few degree's. The next box was a shoe box and I was dying to open it. A gorgeous pair of black patent pumps trimmed with beautiful ruby red rhinestone beads and what had to be at least a five inch high, super slim golden, spiked heels. My hands were actually trembling as I pulled them from the box and slid them on my feet. The fit was perfect. There were three more boxes on the bed, but a word from Marrisa sent me dancing over to the first garment bag. The dress was everything I hope it would be, a jet black silk slipdress embellished by a fiery fusion of black, ruby red, gold and silver sequins and beads in a bold low cut molded bodice. The shoulder straps were thin gold glitter beads that set of my creamy skin perfectly. Marrisa took a break from filming to help me with the back zip, cut just low enough to be sexy but not slutty. The jet black silk tightly tapered skirt of this dream dress was about three inches above my knee and as Marrisa resumed filming me I couldn't stop showing off in front of the mirror. I was in love with the reflection of beautiful woman in the dramatic black silk and shinning beaded creation. The sound of the taffeta lining of the dress against the silk of my hose, the feeling of the dress as it hugged my provocative, wonderful curves, the sight of my cleavage, all of it combined to make me want to look like this, dress like this, feel like this forever. "Would you like to sing 'I feel pretty' darling, and you are pretty lover. That dress fits like a dream and I love seeing you in it. But darling, time presses and there are still a few boxes." Marrisa's voice brought me back to semi-reality. "I'm sorry my lady"; I laughed as I turn and curtsied to my still taping Princess, my lady love. "But this is even better the first time, I feel like these are really my things and I love them." Back to the bed and the first and smallest of the three boxes contained a pair of beautiful gold and diamond earrings. The dangling, flashing earring hung three inches from the half carat diamond set in a diamond shaped setting and the cascade mirrored the pattern of shinning sequins and beads in the bodice of my (and yes, from now on I decided, this was MY dress.) wonderfully tight, body hugging dress. The erotic weight of these bewitching, fiery earrings just reinforced my feeling of total femininity. The second box yielded up a pair of black shiny nylon jersey, over the elbow length gloves. As I slowly pulled the silky gloves up over my arms I could see the clinging material molded itself to my hands like a second silky, shining black skin. I turned to face myself in the mirror. Sophisticated, dramatic, unforgettable. A gorgeous woman smiled back at me with red pouting lips, devastatingly feminine. I heard the video camera click off and then a equally stunning vision was at my side a green satin clutch and a pair of white satin shorty gloves in one hand, a black beaded clutch held out for me in the other. As I turned to face her, I felt the sweep of my silky auburn hair across my shoulders and felt the glow that beautiful woman gets from wearing beautiful things spread through me. Marrisa's voice was soft and tender; "Your stunning Jessica." The chiming of the door bell cut her off, our dates were here! What adventures lay (pun intended) ahead for our sweet boy/girl. What is Jessica/Rikki/Richard's date like, how will her horizons expand. What does Marrisa/Mark really have in mind for our young lady. As always, if you liked it, have a fantasy outfit that Rikki would look good in (she doesn't have to like it, just look good in it), or even if you hated it, please write. Stay tuned to this TV channel. Love and Hugs Desiree ****************************** This file came from Sierra Connection BBS Serving the Gender Community from Nevada 702-825-4220 8-N-1 28.8 VF (4 Nodes) Home of the Fiction Story Writing Contest Home of the Gif Beauty Contest RIKKI4.TXT Welcome back! I hope you have enjoyed parts 1-3 and will enjoy part four just as much. Sorry this chapter is so short but school has demanded a little more time then I expected TRADING PLACES - Part 4 By Ms. Desiree Foster My heart was pounding like a bad set of speakers with the base turned way up. In the back of my mind, I'd hoped that Marrisa had ben kidding when she'd said that she set up an evening out for us. But not just the two of us, she not only expected me to go out for the first time dressed as my sister, but to go out on a date. While Marrisa and I had made love with each other, I never ever thought of her as a man, she was simply a beautiful woman with a wonderful secret in her panties. However, I wasn't given much of a chance to object and I found myself arm and arm with Marrisa, prancing down the hall in our slim spiked heels to answer the front door. Just a few feet from the front door panic finally set in. I stopped and grabbed desperately at Marrisa's arm. "Marrisa, I can't, he'll know! I'll never pass for Jessica, everyone who see's me will know." I whispered, feeling sick to my stomach, I continued; "I'm not like you, your so beautiful and so confident. No one would your not what you seem." The bell chimed again. Marrisa stopped and turned to face me. Instead of the sharp rebuke I expected, her voice was soft, gentle and filled with love. "Darling, of course you can pass for Jessica, granted that your Mother might, and I mean just might, be to tell you apart. I would never set you up to be hurt. I did this for three reasons. One, I know that you can pass and your simply to pretty to say home like some old maid. Second, I want you to become so sure of yourself that you don't feel insecure about any female role you want to try. The third reason is that were lovers now, lesbians if you like, and I want you to try the Bi world. Just remember darling, your Jessica, your wearing all of Jessica's beautiful things and no one will ever guess that your not exactly what you seem." As she spoke, I felt my fears evaporate (well some of them) and more importantly, I didn't want Marrisa to be disappointed in me. I put on my most dazzling smile and looking deep in my darling's sparkling eyes. "I sorry Marrisa, I guess that everything has just happened so fast." Marrisa gave me a loving squeeze and we went to the door. Marrisa opened the door and I caught my first sight of the first man to see me in my transformed state. What hunks, the first was in his mid fifties, tall, graying and very distinguished looking with a short, perfectly trimmed salt and pepper beard. The second gentleman standing next to him was a little shorter and much younger, perhaps only 30 and very rugged and handsome, the collage quarterback type, but with the look of someone who had taken his football accomplishments, put them behind him and built on it. The older (and I thought cuter) gentleman spoke first (I knew he would); "Ms. St.Johns and Ms. DeChomboard? I'm Eric McMasters and this is my friend Jason Camp." An slight english accent, he was just to perfect! I opened the door wide and held my hand out, just like I'd seen Jessica do a hundred time. It took all my courage to let him take my hand and doing my best to keep my voice soft, breathy and a carefully controlled alto welcomed them. (After all this was my house, sort of.) "Call me Jessica please, DeChombonard is such a mouth full. As he entered he took my hand and gracefully executed a perfect bow and kissed my gloved hand. I felt an electric shock pass thur me. No one in my life had ever show this kind of attention to me, I'd never felt so 'center stage'. I loved it. Marrisa was right, being a beautiful woman sure beat being a nothing boy. Marrisa paired off with Jason right from the start. The next words that came out of my mouth surprised even me "I hope that we have time for a drink before we leave." Smiling, I lead everyone thur the living room and into the family room. Jason moved behind the bar and made an appreciative whistle; "Now this is what I call a bar, you have wonderful taste Jessica." I blushed slightly; "Why thank you kind sir, but in this case I'm afraid that I can't take any of the credit. This is my mothers house, I live in the hills above Malaibu. Marrisa and I just this would be so much more convenient for everyone." Jason smiled, "Well then my complements to your Mother for everything, Eric, your usual? And ladies?" Oh god, what does Jessica drink, lets see, we went to dinner and she ordered a..." Marrisa jumped in, thank god. "I'd love a glass of white wine and Jessica, your usual Gin and Tonic? I don't see how you drink those things darling." That's it gin and tonic, I have got to calm down. Everything is going well and Marrisa has been right about everything else. I smiled at Jason, "I don't know why I like them, I guess that I just have a warm spot in my heart for things English." As I spoke, I let my eyes leave Jason and locked directly onto Eric. His smile back was warm and left no doubt that he found me attractive. Suddenly the thought that a man might find me attractive left me confused and shaken, but on the other hand the success of my flirting remark about 'things english' filled me with a sense of both pride and power. I could make someone want me and I could say no, if I wanted. My feeling of wanting to be desired and wanted won over my fear of being a sissy-boy, a queer. Then Jason was handing me a gin and tonic and Marrisa was skillfully guiding the conversation to where I couldn't help but join in. Suddenly I found myself truly enjoying myself, the feel of my dress, the weight of my breasts, the silky brush of my hair and most of all the side glances both Eric and Jason threw my way. A second drink and then we were on our way to dinner. Just before we left, Marrisa and I returned to bedroom for our wraps and purses. It was then that found just how well Marrisa was prepared. In my purse were a drivers license and credit cards, all made out to Jessica M. DeChombonard. In fact they were Jessica's. I looked at Marrisa and gasped "How did you get these?" Marrisa smiled and softly answered; "About six months ago, your sister lost her purse, well she didn't really. She left it in your Mothers's car and well I just appropriated it. I wouldn't use the credit cards, I'm sure that she has reported them lost or stolen, but it will do for answering any casual question, like are you 21. She casually dropped my lipstick and spritzed just a hint of Channel behind my ears and picking up her green satin wrap, looked pointedly at the remaining garment bag. I went over to it and a post-it-note stuck to the outside said 'Fuck the Whales'. In the garment bag was a sable coat, calf length with a plush, full shawl collar. I loved the feel of slipping into the heavy fur, the silky touch of the jet black fur. Something that a beautiful woman wears. Rich, expensive, sexy. The evening passed in a pleasant haze, dinner on the strip, the off for more drinks and dancing. When Eric had first asked me to dance, my heart had began to pound, I'd never danced with a man and was afraid that something would give away to Eric the fact that I wasn't exactly what I seemed. Even more, I was afraid that if I danced with Eric, let him take me in his power- ful arms and hold me close to his strong mature body, that I would like it, like it the way a woman does, like it and want him. I was terrified that I would want him to love me like a woman. Eric was a perfect gentleman, close, but not too close, tight but not too tight. I loved dancing with him and as the night wore on I found myself moving closer to him, not pulled to him by his strength, but attracted to him by his charm. Then it was 3 A.M. and I was walking back to Eric's car, alone with Eric. Marrisa had taken Jason off with her for breakfast at the beach and I was alone with Eric. The night was cold (well for L.A. it was) and I had my fur (yes, I now thought of that fabulous coat as mine, Marrisa was right again, fuck the whales, or to be more exact, fuck the minks, sables or whatever) pulled tight around me. My gloved arm was held gently by Eric and the sound of my high heels was so sexy that it was making my gaff some what uncomfortable. We arrived at the car (a Jaguar, Eric felt a duty to buy British and simply couldn't understand Americans buying Japanese when there was a choice) and as he turned to help me in, I turned to him instead of the car. Sudden- ly I was in his arms, my lips hungary for his, my body molded to his. As he wrapped his strong arms around me and crushed me to him, I found the idea of his making love to me irresistible and delightful. As we kissed, I let my right hand gently stroke the now prominent bulge in Eric's perfectly tailored suit pants. The soft stoke of my black gloved fingers brought a soft moan from Eric. Slowly and gently he forced me back against the hood of the Jag. I sat down and with a mounting need that surprised me with it's force, was pulling my fur open with my right hand and pushing the tight silk skirt of dress up with my other hand. I watch with hungry fascination as Eric quickly unbuttoned his fly and released his wonderful, massive, fully erect cock from this white cotton boxer shorts. As I pulled my panties to the side and down. Eric through some fantastic act of legerdemain produced a condom and pulled the thin rubber over the angry head of the cock that I had to have in me. "I want you in my bottom darling; I breathed, my need now a physical, demanding thing; "Do you want my cherry there, please say yes." Eric simply kissed me quite and then as our lips meet, I felt the pressure of his tool at the gate of my virgin ass. The condom was lubricated and I arched my back and brought my nylon clad legs up and wrapped them around Eric, he place his strong, capable arms around my corseted waist, his large, powerful, gentle, hands in the small back. It hurt as he took me, but it was a wonderful pain, a pain that excited me further. Suddenly I realized that I wanted it to hurt, that I wanted Eric's cock to make me know that I was being fucked, just like a pretty girl know when her lover take her pussy's cherry. I moved my legs up and over Eric's broad shoulders and felt more and more of his huge manhood slid ever deeper into my tight, hurting, wanting ass. I could her my sisters voice begging Eric to fuck her, to fill her ass with his cock, to use her just like the slut she was. More and more cock filled me, my sphincter clamping tight around the anal intruder that was filling my bowels with wonderful man meat. I began to work my ass muscles, squeezing then relaxing and was rewarded with a groan of pleasure from Eric. Ever so slowly Eric forced his 10 inch tool into me. My ass felt as if it was on fire, the pain and the pleasure merging into a glorious golden haze of needing and wanted to be used. Once his cock was fully in me, I heard Jessica begging; "Please fuck me, please, I need to be fucked darling, I want your cock, Oh yes darling, oh Eric, your so hard, so big, and my ass is so full, your hurting me so good, Yes." Jessica's voice continued as, slowly at first, then with mounting speed and force, Eric began to use my ass as a woman's cunt, as I wanted it used. I could feel his wonderful rock hard tool sliding out, my sphincter clamping hard, trying to keep him in me, then rever- sing and plunging deep into my yielding ass. I could feel the cold night air blowing up my dress, could see my panties draped around my left ankle, felt the motion of the car as it rocked in time to Eric's pounding thrusts as his cock had my ass's cherry. The pressure on my prostrate made me so hot, yet the gaffe conspired to keep me from an erection, my testicles forced back inside my body cavity ached with the cum that I needed to spend. I wanted and needed relief, my body wanting, the gaffe denying. But more then anything, I loved feeling Eric's cock in me, filling me the way a slut like me should be filled. I thought how wonderful it would be to be sucking Marrisa's she-male meat while Eric's huge man-cock fucked my ass so very full, filled me, used me. The thought of Marrisa's soft, sexy woman's body and wonderful boy-cock coupled with the pleasure of Eric's mature, but rock solid body and his huge, demanding penis brought me to a new level of need. From outside of myself I knew that I was now moaning and whimpering my need as Eric's pounding shaft drilled in and out of my now slick, wet ass. Then as his meat filled me deeper then ever and he moaned "Oh Jessica" and his lips fell to me in a brutal kiss. I felt his balls jump against my creamy ass cheeks as, within my gaffe, I felt myself come. Eric collapsed against me, my black nyloned legs still wrapped around and over his strong shoulders, his spending cock buried to it's full depth between my soft ass cheeks. I felt his strong body quiver with it pleasure, pleasure I was providing, as I felt his body quake with the force of his orgasm. As we came. I sucked his tongue into my mouth and treating just like it was Marrisa's clitty-cock began to suck it. I kept sucking his tongue as I felt his body quake over and over with the force of his pleasure, felt his meat spasm as my ass held him deep inside of me, just like the she- bitch that I'd somehow became. Finally, he was done and I was sated. I could feel the squesy mess inside my gaffe. With horror realized that in my heat for Eric, my passion had far overcame my common sense. Like a red flag draws a bull, my red panties drew my eyes as that flapped gently in the breeze from my ankle. My gaffe was fully exposed to even the most casual of Eric's glance, and Eric's gaze was anything but casual. Eric slowly withdrew his enormous cock from my behind, careful to keep the condom on as his tool pulled free with a slight plop and my sphincter tried to hold him in. I looked at him with a mix of love (well lust) and fear. Suddenly I was very aware of his powerful body and his masculine strength. He had to know that I was a sissy-boy, a pretty she-male all dressed up as a seductive woman. Suddenly the hood to the car felt hard and unyielding and the deserted, darkened parking lot, ominous and foreboding. I dropped my legs off of Eric's broad shoulders as he produced a handkerchief, to clean himself with I assumed. Instead he, gently pulled my gaffe aside and began to clean my clitty cock up. I looked up at him and was rewarded with a gentle smile. Only when, between kisses, my boy thing was cleaned up as good as was possible and my gaffe gently replaced did he clean himself. As he re-zipped his pants I slid off the hood of his Jag and pulled my panties up. I shivered slightly as he turned to me. "You were wonderful Jessica, I'd forgotten how exciting sex can be on the spur of the moment, especially with a beautiful woman." I pulled my fur around me as I whispered "But Eric, I'm not a..." His kiss stilled my confession, "I know Jessica, and I don't care. Your very beautiful and a truly erotic creature. That's a rare and marvelous combination. My only question is how far you want to take your sexual frontiers and will I be lucky enough to share them?" I melted into his arms and my lips searched for his. His were ever so gentle in reply. After a wonderful breakfast, we drove back to the house, as I disarmed the alarm, I felt Eric's breath on the back of my neck, followed by a soft kiss on the nape of my neck. The electricity was still there. "Darling"; he whispered; "I have to go, but I think that you want to see me again, and I know that I want to see you. You live here, don't you." I turned to face him and admitted that "Yes Eric, I do." "And Jessica is your older sister?" I was shaken at his insight. "Yes, I'm Rikki." "Well Rikki, I think that a beautiful name. But no more stories, how old are you?" "17 almost eighteen, that's not to young, please tell me you don't mind." "No Rikki, I'm 55, that's no to old. Does you parents know?" "No" I admitted "Mothers divorced and she works as a costume designer. She lives here with a girlfriend, Monica's a nurse and neither one is home much." Eric considered a moment before he replied "Well I'll just have to see what we can do. I have to go back to England on business for a few week so I have some time to figure out what we can do. Goodnight Rikki." The feel of his kiss stayed with me as I heard his Jag pull off. I was tired, but couldn't bring myself to undress. I did carefully rehang my sable in it's garment bag and pulled my long, slinky, black gloves off. I wandered out to the living room and fixed myself a drink, a gin and tonic. I felt a little sore all over, my day had been a little physical, in an orgasmic sort of way, so I popped the last of my muscle relaxers and kicked back on the couch. The clock was just chiming 6 A.M. when the phone rang. I slid down the couch and reached for it when suddenly I remembered that Mom had been going to call me last night. Shit! I couldn't answer the phone as Jessica, well both Eric and Marrisa knew about Rikki's little secret. God, I was going to have to get over making problems for myself. I answered just as the answering machine kicked in. "Hello?" God I hated the sound of Richard's voice, so wishy-washy and male. "Rikki darling?" Marrisa sounded wonderful. I let my voice climb an octave, and marveled at how much better I sounded. "Marrisa darling! Oh I've got so much to tell you, you were right about everything! I had a wonderful time! I just got home about half an hour ago and your never going to guess what happened!" I paused, slightly out of breath. "I can guess sweetheart;" Marrisa laughed; "You've got that just fucked glow in your voice. How wonderful! Are you doing something with Eric today or may I come over later today, after noon, maybe about twoish." The wonderful thought of both Eric's and Marrisa's fabulous cocks in me made me smile to myself as I answered. "Darling, I always have time for you. Eric is flying out today so we have the rest of the weekend to ourselves. But if Eric were here, I'd still want you to come." Marrisa laughed at my unintentional pun. "I think I may have created a sexual Frankenstein here. But that was sweet of you to say, really. I had a great night too, not as good as yours, but Jason seem's to like me and we have a date for tonight. But not until ten tonight. He has to work, poor baby." "Maybe I should worry about you having time for me Marrisa darling." I giggled. "Never worry about that Rikki darling, men ar OK, but they can never share what we have. I don't think ether Eric or Jason would let me get turned on by fixing their hair, makeup and dressing them up in tight, slinky dresses." I couldn't help but laugh at that. "Your right as always sweetheart." I paused to take a sip of my gin and tonic, then continued; "You've been right about everything so far. I can't describe how I felt last night, having the door opened for me, having my chair held, knowing that everyone in the restaurant accepted me as a pretty girl;" I caught sight of my reflection in the glass door of the grandfather clock and made a correction; "not a girl, but a beautiful woman. Then to find out that I could make a man happy, have him want me and make him cum." I sat my empty glass down and let a long, red nail gently trace my nylon. I continued; "I'm so glad that you made me go out last night. I wish I could stay like this forever." Marrisa laughed gently. "Well lover, you'd better get some sleep, I don't want you all puffy eyed and cranky when I get there. Goodnight Rikki darling." "Goodnight Marrisa, I love you darling." Leaving my glass on the floor with my cherry red lipstick still smeared on it, I wandered into my, well Richard's, sickeningly male bedroom. Getting the dress unzipped took some doing, long nails look lovely, but they're not real useful. I slipped out of the spiked heels and carefully took my dress off and hung it on a hanger. I couldn't bring myself to take my bra and waist cinch off, the tightness just felt to good and I found myself wishing that I could lace the black satin foundation even tighter. I did however take the gaff off and washed it and my clitty cock. (A girl has to stay fresh down there.) Trying not to muss my hair to much, I slipped my headphones, slipped Maiden songs II into my Walkman for the first time, and drifted off to sleep delicately fondling my breasts with one hand and my semi-hard boy thing with the other. Well Rikki has discovered men! What new adventure's await our boy-girl. Marrisa/Mark seems not to be the possessive type. Was Rikki sincere in saying that she has a dream of bimbo-hood, Will Eric turn out to be a one night stand or will he (or should he) be back. If you've made it this far, I'm going to assume (a dangerous thing) that you, darling readers have liked it thus far. This episode took forever due to the demands of school (a 42 year old undergrad is almost an oxymoron). Part 5 of 3 (no mistake, god am I a wordy slut) is in the works and my 225,000 byte S&M, B&D, forced TV, sexchange, SiFi, guaranteed to offend everyone, short story is being rewritten for the 93d time. To all of you who have written, thank you and all my hugs and kisses. Love; Desiree Foster ****************************** This file came from Sierra Connection BBS Serving the Gender Community from Nevada 702-825-4220 8-N-1 28.8 VF (4 Nodes) Home of the Fiction Story Writing Contest Home of the Gif Beauty Contest RIKKI5.TXT Welcome back as Richard/Rikki continues down her slippery slope to she-male hood. Will someone show up to save Rikki from this terrible (smirk) fate! I hope you have enjoyed parts 1-4 and will enjoy part five just as much as I've enjoyed doing them. TRADING PLACES - Part 5 By Ms. Desiree Foster The dream was wonderful, her satin soft lips sliding up and down my stiff, aching, clitty-cock while her velvety fingers kneaded my cum filled boy balls. Every time that my dream lover felt my relief come near, gentle pressure would deny my need to spew my love juice into the sucking, demanding mouth whose tongue licked my painful hardon. As I drifted in the dream would that I never wanted to end, I slowly became aware that my dream lover was real. I opened my eyes and gazed lovingly down at Barbie as she sucked her friend Madge's cock. The thought made me giggle, and Barbie looked up from my lipstick smeared boy-meat. "Well, I was wondering if you were ever going to wake up sleepy head." She slid up the bed and the taste of my pre-cum just made the long, loving kiss sweeter. As she slowly and reluctantly broke her lips away from me I let my eyes take in my lover. I almost came just looking at her. The Barbie image was even stronger this morning, she now looked literally like a page from one of the little Barbie catalogs come to life. Her golden blonde mane was pulled back into a sexy pony tail that hung down to the small of her back. Marrisa began to gently stroke my cock with her slender fingers as she let a bit of iron creep into her soft contralto voice. "You know Rikki, you left the door unlocked, your glass in the living room next to the phone and your dress hanging on Richard's bedroom door. All in all, you should be glad that I showed up a little early and cleaned up. What would you do if you'd have woke up to Jessica screaming "What the fuck are you doing in my clothes, you little faggot" "I'm sorry Marrisa, your right, I'm such a ditz. (Ditz? What do I mean by that? But Marrisa's right.) I just bare the thought of taking all of my, I mean Jessica's pretty things off. Please don't be mad at me." Marrisa smiled "Your forgiven darling, but I going to have to teach you to be more careful. Now let's get you up, oh you are already up!" With that Marrisa scooted down and my heart began to pound as I watched her wet, slick pink lips approach my she-meat. I could feel her warm breath on my now painful hardon. "Does Rikki want her nasty boy-thing sucked?" Marrisa whispered. Oh yes darling, I need to cum so bad, my balls hurt." "Rikki was bad, she didn't clean up did she?" "No darling, I didn't." "And your a ditz, aren't you?" "Yes dar- ling, I guess I am." "Tell me what you are, well Rikki." I was blushing wildly as I answered; "I'm a stupid, empty headed bimbo and I need to be taught a lesson." I couldn't believe what I was saying as I said it. But more and more all that counted was that Marrisa like me, that I do just what I was told in a manner that she found pleasing. Instead of losing my stiffy during this humiliating exchange, my desire increased, I was even more turned on. I remembered her tieing me up that first time she had ever dressed me up in pretty girl things, and I remembered how helpless I'd felt, how scared. It was almost as if I could feel the handcuffs and the rope again. As these thought flooded through my mind, I felt Marrisa take just the tip of my clitty- cock between her satin soft lips, and I moan out my need; "Please Marrisa, please, I'll be a good girl from now, please Marrisa." Marrisa's hand was cupping my balls, squeezing tighter and tighter, my hands were making fluttering gestures, she was hurting my boy-balls so good. Marrisa move up on the bed, her free hand pushing her skirt up and then pulling her sheer panties down. Swinging her leg up and over my head I was suddenly presented with the sight of Marrisa's semi-hard penis above my waiting lips. I hungerly arched my neck to take her in my mouth, the feel of her satin cock head touching my lips so wonderful that if Marrisa hadn't clamped down hard on my balls I would have came right that second. My arms were pinned to my sides by Marrisa's strong thighs and legs and her wonderful cock was filling my mouth with it sweet pre- cum taste. She was right about everything, I was a ditz, helpless, stupid, sexual, hot, I wanted to be dressed in tight sexy clothes, high spiked heels, I wanted to be mindless, available, pleasing. I was moving my hips, trying to make her lips slid up and down my shaft, but she was denying me that pleasure, instead I felt her teeth. I stopped moving my hips and her painful bite relaxed. I tried to lay very still, relaxing my body, becoming limp. As I became more passive, Marrisa's crushing grip on my balls relaxed and slowly her tongue began to trace a tiny circle around my cock head. Marrisa's now fully erect cock filled my mouth I lay still under her. Marrisa began to pump her hips, slowly at first but then with greater and greater force. Marrisa was fucking my mouth, and I loved it! I wanted to cum, but couldn't as I lay still, passive, dressed in my waist cinch, bra, hose and heels. Marrisa's lips were gentle but unmoving on my shaft as her tongue expertly teased me to the brink of orgasm over, her soft hands kneading my now overfull boy-balls. Faster and deeper Marrisa drove her cock down my throat, gaging me with her wonderful, hard, stiff she-male penis, making me suck and lick. Gagging me exactly as I deserved. I lay completely passive as I was face fucked by my lover, her legs now clamped around me like a silken straight jacket. Then her cock was buried deep in my throat as her load of girl-cum flooded my mouth and down my throat. I had to gulp desperately to avoid being drowned in Marrisa's cum. As I felt her cock pulsing it's jets of warm, sticky, thick cum into my mouth, as I lay there, helpless and submissive under her, my arms held tightly to my side by her strong thighs, I felt the intense pleasure of my submission as my clitty-cock gave up it's load of boy juice to my lovers hungry, demanding mouth. Marrisa collapsed on top of me as she finally spent her load of cum into my mouth pussy. Half smothered under her softly scented body, I began to lock her sweet cock clean, wanting and needing her cum, loving the feel if her softing penis in my mouth. As I loving licked my lover clean, I felt her lips leave my cock. Marrisa lay there for what seemed like forever, but I didn't mind, I loved her weight on top of me, pinning me to the bed. I felt her wipe my cock clean with my sheet and then she slowly slid off and stood. Looking down at me she slowly and slid her cock back into her wispy panties and straightened her skirt. Once again, Marrisa was complete, a beautiful young woman, her boy thing a sweetly hidden secret. After I got up, I learned to straighten my hair and to reapply my makeup. After I was picture perfect, I was told by Marrisa to strip. When I started to object (I really wanted to put my beautiful dress, the one Eric had fucked me in), Marrisa lightly slapped me and told me to shut up and to get my stupid ass out of Jessica's clothes. When I started to cry, Marrisa told me to put on a happy face and that if I wasn't good, I should expect to be treated like a bad sissy-boy. She then sat me down in front of Mother's mirror and told me to practice looking like a good girl. I sat there staring at the beautiful, heavily made up sexy boy-girl in the mirror who's ravishing face was fixed in a mindlessly sexual smile, a total come on to all. Only when she was happy that I'd learned my lesson was I allowed to get up and get dressed. While I'd been sitting at the mirror Marrisa had brought in six boxes and laid them on the bed. After receiving permission, I was allowed to go over to them. The top box contained a dozen roses from Eric, long stemed red roses, with a note addressed to Jessica. Marrisa said that I could read the note after I got dressed. As I reached for the second box, Marrisa gently stopped me. "Rikki, up to now, I've dressed you in ether your Mother's or sister's clothes. I've let you pretend to be you sister and all in all, I've been pleased. But from now on you have to earn your time as Jessica. So, if you want Eric to see Jessica again, Rikki had better be a good girl for me. These boxes have Rikki's clothes in them, clothes that Rikki will take care of and wear. Also these boxes have Rikki's makeup, makeup I expect Rikki to become expert with. From now on Richard will never call me, only Rikki may, and Rikki had better be shaved, made up, dressed, wigged and perfect when I arrive. We'll still play dress up and I'll find lot's of reasons to allow you into Mommies's closets, but only I will allow it. You may dress in Rikki's things whenever you like, but Christina's and Jessica's things are off limits unless I allow it. Do you understand. "Yes darling." I meekly agreed. My heart was in my throat, Rikki's things, oh yes!. I knew everything would be beautiful! My hands were trembling as Marrisa handed me the first box of her boxes. I opened it and was rewarded with a box of what must have been 20 pair of pantyhose in a dozen shades. The colors of the Haines ultra sheer hose ranged from midnight blue through neutral beige to pastel pink and blue, to white. Under the still wrapped panty hose were 8 pair of bikini panties in, 2 each of pink, black, white and beige. Marrisa handed me my gaff and as I forced my clitty cock into the restrictive latex Marrisa removed the tags from a pair of the white panties. As soon as my gaff was on properly, I was handed the silky, lacy panties and pulled them on over my shaved legs. "That's better Rikki, now come here and set down." I walked back over to Mom's makeup table and sat down. My hopes of a new make over were dashed as Marrisa instead to gum solvent and removed first my wig then the wonderfully life like synthetic breasts that gave me such a magnificent voluptuous figure. As she cleaned up my chest looked longingly at the pile of latex and silicone that I'd come to love. I looked down in disgust at my flat chest and noticed that I had developed just the tiniest of breasts (so small that I was sure that it was just wishful thinking). Marrisa produced a tape measure and wrapped it first over my nipples then under my ever so slightly budding breasts. She pronounced; "Well just a 34AA, but a journey of a thousand miles and all that shit. Don't worry darling, I promise that this is temporary, you'll be a 40EE before you know it. Now get your sweet little tush up and let's see what other pretty things you have." The second box yielded three pretty lace bras that matched my panties, in white, black and beige. With the cryptic remark; "No sense in making a big investment in little bra's."; Marrisa removed the price tag from the white bra and helped me into it. The bra was padded, underwired (rather stiffly) and had push up pads. Once my tiny titties were settled in the lace cups I could see by my reflection that I now had a B cup and enough cleavage that I was no longer embarrassed not having the kind of breasts that bimbos should have (what a strange thought, but it's true, I should have big tits, that what my lovers like, so I guess I should be what they want, shouldn't I?). I was handed a pair of the Haines silky sheer pantyhose, black, and after a little instruction on how to handle them without running the with my nails, hand or toe, managed to get into them. I really like hose better, but Marrisa had made it clear that these were mine, so I made the best of it. The second box also contained three sets of lingerie, half slips, matching camisoles, in black, white and beige. I was given the black half slip to put on. When I checked in the mirror, I was greeted with a young woman with short brown hair, very tousled, an adequate figure, maybe a little to thin, standing there in her under- things. Marrisa took my hand and lead me back to the makeup table and cleaned my face of Jessica's seductive pretty bitch face and removed my wonderful long dangling earrings. Then I was given a hair cut and suddenly I had bangs, and hot rollers. A quick brush out and then she was back over to the bed. She returned with the third box and handed it to me. Inside was an entire assortment of cosmetics. Marrisa spent the next hour teaching me to do my, Rikki's makeup. "Darling, first you clean your face, if you don't you'll break out and I, for one, don't like that in a girl. Next you use this concealer stick under your eyes, just to smooth every thing out. Now sheer beige foundation, cover girl. You really have pretty skin, your pores are almost female in size, that right blend it into the hairline, good. Now your eyeshadow, here this case has color coordinated tones that make it hard to make a mistake. Bronze on the eyelid, that right, not too much. Good! Now just a hint of mocha frost in the crease. Good, now for some soft blue liner, not so much that it oblivious, that's right. Do your brows with this brown pencil, give them a little more arch, just a little, very pretty. Now soft brown mascara, you have lovely lashes naturally, but this will make them fuller and a little darker. Good, your doing wonderful Rikki. After you've done this for a while, you'll be able to have your makeup on in 20 minuets flat. Now, put your lipstick on, here use this coral, use the brush, that right, now some powder, good that takes care of the tiny pore problem you might have. Well Rikki, how do you look?" A very pretty young woman looked back at me, maybe 22, 23 years old, tastefully made up. Her short brown hair no longer look male, but more like a tinkerbell cut, the deep bangs somehow out of place, but framing her face most attractively. You could see girls like me every morning on our way to work, well after I put a dress and some shoes on that is. Marrisa brought over the fifth box and opened it to reveal a smiling wig head with a long, past shoulder length fall pinned to it. The fall matched my hair shade exactly and I was informed that it was human hair and needed to be cared for. I was shown how to maintain the soft curl and told exactly how to wash and set the long brown tresses. Marrisa showed me how to pin the fall in place and how to brush my short hair into place so that the effect was of a perfectly natural head of hair softly falling to just past my shoulders. I was then shown how to fix it in several becoming fashions. The last style was a soft upswept style that gathered the silky soft hair into a soft bun. The image that looked back at me from the mirror was me, but such a different me, where Jessica had been older, more glamorous, far more sophisticated, with Jessica full pouting lips, high sculpted cheekbones, pencil thin, arching brows and sparkling green eyes, this young woman's face was smaller, her brows far more natural, her hazel eyes gentle and doe like. While Jessica's face was bitchy, powerful, sexual, demanding, Rikki's was the face was the face of the bank's newest loan officer, hired because the bank president fantasized about fucking her while jerking off, the grade school teacher that her girl students (and maybe one or two of her boy students) wanted to grow up like and the principle could wait to fuck, the restrained, tasteful, educated, attractive look of a pretty yuppie all made up at her accomplished, professional best. The last box on the bed was far to small for a dress, in fact it was only slightly larger then shoe box. In the box was a maroon clutch, and a red wallet. (ID1) I opened the wallet and was rewarded with by my transformed image smiling up at me from a Florida drivers license and a social security card. Opening the chic leather wallet further revealed an Mastercard, Visa, Exxon, Shell, Lerners, J.C. Penneys, Sears, Liberty House, and a lifetime membership card to the Holiday Spas, all made out to Ms. Rikki Angelika St. James. I was stunned to say the least. "There all real, the credit limits are $500.00 on the Visa and Mastercard, $300.00 on the rest, right now all have a zero balance charged on them, but your responsible for anything you buy. Your 23 years old and unmarried." In the box was an envelope, inside was a birth certificate, made out in the same name, a diploma from some place called Robert E. Lee High school and a second from Sarasota Community Collage showing that I'd acquired a Associates's of Art's Degree in Office Management. Also in the box was a thick folder. Shaken, I blurted out; "How ever did you get these? I mean this is all to much...." Marrisa cut me off; "Don't worry about that, just accept that any check will reveal that Rikki A. St. James is a very real person, in the folder is a bio that I would learn by heart if I were you. The bills from your credit cards will come to my house and you'll use that as an as an address and phone number for now. Get you things and come with me." Dumbly I picked up all of the boxes and followed Marrisa into Richard's, I mean my bedroom. She walked over by the closet and ordered; "Put the boxes on the bed and come here. Not knowing what else to do, neatly arranged the boxes (my roses on top of course and walked over to Marrisa. With no further explanation Marrisa opened the closet. My heart leap with joy. The far wall of the walkin closet was hung with beautiful clothes. One sweater and three blouses were first. The sweater was a wonderful white silk turtleneck. Then the blouses, one white silk shawl collared, one beige crepe with a bow tie neck, and a bright yellow cotton print. Hanging next to the blouses was a suit in a beautiful maroon. Further down was a black wool blazer jacket, followed by three skirts, gray wool, black linen and a soft pink cotton. Hanging next them was a black leather skirt with a matching black leather swing coat. The last hanger held a black and hot pink leotard set. On the floor were four pair of shoes. The first pair were black patent pumps with a three inch stacked heel. Next to the black pumps were a matching pair in maroon, followed by a pair in gray but with two inch heels. The last pair were Lady Nike aerobics workout shoes with hot pink socks in them. "Oh Marrisa, thank you...But Marrisa?" "Yes Rikki?"; "How can I hide all this?" Marrisa jerked my arm so that I faced her; "That bitch, is your problem. I'm getting tired of you always whining. Now, go get your maroon suit, the white silk blouse and your red pumps." Twenty minuets later found me standing in front of Mothers floor length mirror, a perfect Yuppie princess. The suit fit like a dream, the collarless jackets slight peplem waist flared out gently over my slender hips to create the illusion on a more rounded figure. The skirt hung perfectly to just fractionally above my black nyloned knee. The shawl collar of the white silk blouse showed off just the slightest hint of cleavage. When I sat just exactly right the vent in the skirt allowed you just the barest of peeks at the frothy black lace trim on my slip. The three inch heels matched my suit just as my nails did. I wore a slim, gold Lady Seko wristwatch, gold studs in my ears (large enough to be noticed, small enough to be discreet.) and a small pin of crystal shards. I found my self comparing the image that smiled back at me to mother in her red power suit. In my mind I envied her fuller, sexier body, but all in all, I found Rikki more then attractive enough. Then for no reason that I could think of a new thought entered my mind. That other BITCH had no right to her wonderful body, she had no right to have closets full of sexy clothes. And Jessica's body was even better, younger, her breasts larger, her clothes even more daring. Why should those two cunts have everything while I was going to have to hide my pretty things. I felt myself grow excited at these awful thoughts. Then Marrisa's voice brought me back to reality. "Well Rikki, you look wonderful. Now since you look like such a lady, let's make sure you act like one." She rest of the day correcting the unladylike sins of omission and commission that I'd committed last night plus drilling me on my new femme per- sona. How to sit, gestures to make, walking, talking, holding my bag. My date of birth, what happened to my parents (an automobile accident two years ago.), my phone number, address, signing my name, do I have any brothers or sisters (no, I'm an only child.), relatives (none close, and none that I've seen in the last ten years.). Marrisa encouraged me to keep as many of Jessica's habits and manners. If I heard it once that afternoon, I heard it a hundred time, "Just do what Jessica would do." Suddenly it was 7 P.M. and Marrisa was gathering up her things to leave. By now I was so horny that I didn't know what to do. I tried every trick in the world to get Marrisa to stay, but she simply kissed me, handed me a package and left. I smoothed my skirt under me and gracefully sat down on the couch to open the small box. Inside was another bottle of muscle relaxers, six 3 1/2 inch computer disks, a VHS video tape and huge, lifelike dildo of all things. I took everything back to Richards room, straightened Christina's room and got the video tape, wandered back into the family room and fixed myself a Gin and Tonic. I popped the tape into VCR and settled into the couch (being careful not to muss myself). The tape was a home style movie, staring my sister! Just as I had primped and preened while dressing last night, my sister was doing a encore, but while I'd been dressing in sexy, pretty clothes, Jessica was dressing in the tight, black latex super skin, of a dominatrix! When the tape began, Jessica was already wearing a pair of highly shined black latex bikini panties and a matching bra. The effect against her white creamy skin was stunning. She had already made her face up, gleaming, wet, black eyeliner, glit- tering silver eyeshadow, hot pink blush and bright, bright red lipstick that matched her inch long nails. Her hair wa