“I would like to take our fantasy one step further. I want you to don an outfit from among my things each evening upon our arrival home,” she said seriously. “I also had two wigs custom made for you to wear, both jet black to match my own hair coloring.” “Two wigs?” “Yes, for you to wear depending on the time of the evening. One is drawn tightly back into a bun and the other with the tresses falling long and free like mine when I prepare for bed.” “In other words,” I said, a little...

After the physical, the doctor turned on this slide projector and began giving me this really detailed lecture on human sexuality and reproduction. I mean like really graphic. Then he began explaining about the physical, mental and emotional changes that a male goes through, when he’s put on something called female hormone therapy. And he explained all about that to me as well. He spent a lot of time and attention on how especially effective it is, when it’s administered to someone as young as...

On the tenth day, Wilma’s external transformation was complete. Bill was gone forever. As Wilma admired herself in her mirror, wearing a sexy, size six, petite dress, an inner sense warned her that something was wrong. 'I look perfect, so what is the matter?' she asked herself. “I am the woman I have always wanted to be,” she added aloud, taking pleasure in her sweet-sounding, feminine voice. After the inner transformation was complete, Wilma entered the stage of induced amnesia, during which...

“You look smashing,” I said. “Like a model or something.” “Thank you,” he said, and he looked genuinely pleased. “You seem as though you like it.” He shrugged. “If I have to look like a girl, I’d rather be a pretty one than an ugly one!” He crossed his legs and it was impossible not to notice how smooth and sleek they looked. It was obvious that he had shaved them. “What are you wearing underneath?” He feigned shock. “Alan! You can’t ask a girl that! It’s impolite!” “Sorry,” I said, grinning...

Desi was right. I had used hypnosis as a theme in several of my stories. I liked the idea of a character being compelled to do things without really understanding why or having control. I liked writing the sex scenes too; imagining what might be going through the mind of someone acting under compulsion. Their mind would be saying that they shouldn’t be doing whatever, but their body would love the feeling and want more. The more out of control they got, the deeper their compulsions would...

“Yeah, some woman sure did a number on your head, didn’t she?” “Yes, Ms. Rachel,” I agreed. “I suppose. . .” “Was it your ex-wife?” I shook my head. “No, Ms. Rachel, she hated to see me wearing skirts!” “How about an ex-girlfriend?” I shook my head again. “No, not really. . .” “And what’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded. “Well, there is Carole Anne.” “Oh yeah, I’d like to meet her.” I curtsied again. “Yes, Ms. Rachel,” I whispered dejectedly. “But not her.” “Your Sister, then? She’d be...

Aunt Cindy’s Final Love Affair “See you later, ladies! Have a good weekend!” Cindy Bemis said to her co-workers—actually her subordinates, since Cindy was the chief records clerk in the office of the Clerk of the Pacificum Supreme Court and Court of Appeals. The other ladies said similar things and went out. Cindy closed up the office in the basement of the Pacificum State Capitol, walked to the exit, put on her hat and coat to face the chilly February weather, and went out to catch the...

Next morning I was Ruth. From the tips of my toes to the top of my head I was Ruth. They’d given me the opportunity and I was going to take it for all I was worth. I confess to overdoing it a little. Although it was morning, I was dressed and made up for the evening. I wanted to be over-the-top feminine just to show that I wasn’t overawed by the occasion, and it felt good. I was liberated. I paused before going down to meet the Colonel. I’d heard a car arrive about fifteen minutes before and I...

“The only way you could ever hope to know what a hell it can be most of the time would be if you and I were somehow able to trade places,” she said evenly. She turned to face him, to watch his expression in the light of the oncoming cars. “Of course, since that could never happen, you’re pretty safe in your oh- so-superior ‘man’s’ world.”“Superior man’s world?” Tim asked, wondering if his wife had suddenly become a feminist.“And even if it could be done, changing places that is, you wouldn’t...

“Tell me that you are going to wear this brassiere. Ask me nicely for it, and sound like you mean it!” “Please. . . Mom. . . uh, can I wear it?” “Oh, no! I told you to tell me that you want to wear your lovely brassiere. Tell me that you want to put it on. Promise me that you won’t take it off, either. I want to hear some enthusiasm here.” I squeezed out the terrible words. It was eerie hearing my own voice begging to be allowed to wear the ghastly thing and promising to do so. Mother was only...

I loved her so much that I even asked White Beaver if the parson would come and say the words to make me and Moon Owl married to each other. He started to laugh, but then stopped. “I’m right sorry to have to say this, Singing Sparrow,” he said, “but no parson would ever do that.” I did not understand. “Why not?” I asked. “Well, it’s because you and Moon Owl are both male gals. The parsons have a book that they say has everything in it that the Great Spirit ever said, and if it ain’t in there,...

From To Fit the Crime “First, I’ll take a sample of blood to analyze your own DNA and tailor it to the new, female form. That will be injected back into you along with special proteins which will turn off your male genes and allow the new ones to work. These will slowly change your body, first each cell, then all your organs until, in about a year, you will be totally female. It will not hurt though at times the changes will make you feel very uncomfortable. In the space of that year you will...

I should probably tell you why I’m in the hospital. A little more than a week ago, on Saturday, I woke up here to discover that the afternoon before I’d had a sex-change operation. I was really groggy at first and couldn’t tell if it was a dream or what. Pretty soon I started feeling the pain. Then Dr. Vidal, that motherfucker Louis, came by and asked me how I was doing. That was when I knew it wasn’t a nightmare. I tried to scream at him but my throat was so dry that nothing came out. I felt...

‘‘Now all we have to do is decide what kind of girl you’re going to be.’’ Leslie gestured to us all to sit round the table where she had a pad and pen waiting. ‘‘We’re going to play a game. It’s a game to describe our girl.’’ ‘‘She’ll not be pretty.’’ I shook my head and sat as I could see that nothing would deter them. ‘‘Part one is to describe all the processes he’ll have to go through.’’ Leslie handed out sheets to Susie and Shelley. ‘‘There’s no limits; let your imagination be as free as...

Patricia and Pamela held my shoulders while Aunt Lucille rolled up my pant legs and fitted sheer nylon anklets onto my feet. I had just arrived and been announced by the maid. My lady relatives were waiting for me. I was pounced upon rather unceremoniously, parked in a chair in the study where they were congregated waiting for me, and my penance began. Aunt Lucille opened a shoe box, folded back the tissue and lifted out a fuchsia-colored pump of slipper satin and showed it to me. It was...

“OK, suppose Hattie does assign him to Jolene and suppose we let Jolene know that she has a free hand > with his training and suppose he has an accident while working and suppose he has no spare clothes and suppose Jolene bullies him into a dress and suppose if she does, suppose she makes him wear one every day after that? And suppose he’s forced to live there to be available and on-call? And, suppose, if after a couple weeks working every day and not able to look for other work, suppose...