Message-ID: <24332asstr$959515816@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: VickieTern@aol.com X-Original-Message-ID: <a5.667dd43.26612318@aol.com> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="US-ASCII" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Subject: {ASSM} New TG: Cute, 4/10 by Vickie Tern M/F m/F M/m F/F etc. Femdom too. Date: Sun, 28 May 2000 08:10:16 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2000/24332> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, dennyw New TG: Cute, 4/10 by Vickie Tern M/F m/F M/m F/F etc. Femdom too. The sex in this story is sometimes heavy and explicit, though not cruel, so you may not wish to read it. If you shouldn't read it because you're underaged or overly judgemental, don't. All comments welcome: VickieTern@AOL.COM (c) 2000 by Vickie Tern. May be freely reposted, but only on free archives. iv. He let me use make-up on him, so he looked just like a woman! I went easy on him that first time. I let him wear own clothes, knowing he was going to feel like hiding at first, so he had to have somewhere familiar to go. Jeans again and an oversized T-shirt -- I insisted it be loose because I knew passers-by would assume that here was a woman, so there must be breasts inside. I didn't want to confuse them. Hi-leg panties -- "so your bottom will feel all day the way I used it last night!" I told him. Then I clipped a bra on him also, so he'd think by the feel of it that there might be breasts there. As there would be! Sandals -- his own, with broad straps, but we'd take care of that this very morning. His hair fluffed out and high up again, but this time clipped in a high ponytail, with the tail itself then curled and recurled with a hot iron into an absolutely charming tangle on the back of his head. Katie, that's when I knew this was going to work! He was beautiful. He looked up at me shyly, not sure what I was doing. Cute as a button! He didn't even need make-up with that hairdo, but I put it on him anyhow. Just enough for any woman to feel self-esteem and self-assurance, and for Laurie to feel ... imprisonment. To liberate the woman, I had to restrain the man. Paradoxically, make-up could give him another place to hide -- if he thought that as a man he looked ridiculous, he could try to persuade himself he was a woman, that he looked genuine. His dignity might well depend on it. Lipstick always helps a girl feel she looks like a girl. And I gave him only just enough eyeliner and shadow to suggest a certain mysterious, wide-eyed innocence. "There!" I said. "Didn't that woman tell you last Saturday that with a little eye make-up you'd have men falling all over you? Look in the mirror and be the first to get tangled in your own feet!" He looked, and his mouth fell open! Then he looked a little frightened and he turned back to me. I took the risk of smearing his lipstick and kissed him before he could say anything. "Didn't I say 'forever' honey? That I'll never leave you?" I asked him. "And didn't you answer 'No matter what'? This is one of the things we'll do with each other from now on, while we wait for 'forever' to show up. It cheers me up for you to submit yourself to me like this! And I know you'll love it! It'll be fun! Still trust me?" He looked so solemn! Done up pretty and looking like a doll, but maybe also like a little girl who's been told the dentist won't hurt her. A struggle to believe me played out all over his precious face, but finally he said, "Yes!" in such a high, small voice that I had to laugh. "Use that voice from now on, honey," I told him. "Ready to go? Here, put your things in this purse. Not that you need to carry one, there're pockets in today's outfit. But you should get used to carrying one." Then I waited, listening a little tensely for his response. I'd just told him three different ways that this trip wasn't one-time-only. "All right," he said in that same teeny voice, so plaintive! "But I don't want to be embarrassed! You'll help me? And if it's no fun, we'll talk about it after?" "Don't worry," I told him as solemnly as I could, enjoying my hubby's new look. "You can't be embarrassed. No one would ever mistake you for a man, not any more!" And wickedly I added, as if to console him. "Not even me!" Katie, it was so nice! In the car on the way to the mall we chatted like old girlfriends. Our relationship was changing, and I wanted him to ease into his new sense of himself gradually, without even realizing it. I drove. I told him about the Spring fashions. I told him what my hairdresser -- soon our hairdresser -- had gossiped to me about her other customers. I gave him conversational cue after cue of girl talk, and he tried to take them up. Playfully, he thought, because I seemed cheered by his seeming to be the woman of the house. Not knowing there would be no going back for him -- that this was his life with me from now on! "Does your secretary still see her new boyfriend?" I asked him? "You mentioned last week that he'd stopped by the office for a few minutes? What's he like?" He threw me a sideways glance as if to say 'How should I know?' Then realized that girls always know -- they've been checking out boyfriends with each other since their early teens, talking about them endlessly. They need to know! So he tried. "He seems very nice," he said. "He spoke very softly to her, and quite politely to me." Then he remembered something else from his new perspective. "You know, maybe he's too nice. Carla has a sharp edge to her, and he seemed to be just a little afraid to offend her. He said something, and she just glanced at him in reply, and he withered! And then he got very attentive and stood there and listened closely while she just sat at her desk and told him something! They talked for quite a while. He never once looked up at her!" It sounded improbable. "They talked? Or she talked and he listened?" "She talked. And when she finished she held out her hand and he kissed it and left without even replying! Very European. Except that he bent down very low to kiss it, and in the movies European men always lift a lady's hand up to their lips." "How interesting, Laurie!" I said. It was! It had just solved a really big problem, how to change Laurie's gender at the office as well as at home. I'd have to call Carla and enlist her, but I knew now that she'd understand at once, and would love helping me. "It does sound to me as if they're each getting what they want out of their relationship," I added. "Does Carla still wear that heavy eye makeup? And boots even on hot summer days?" No answer. Of course he'd never noticed that either. But from now on, he would. A car pulled alongside at a light, and the woman driving it looked him over casually but closely. That he noticed. "Does she think I look odd?" he asked me nervously. "Why is she staring?" "She isn't staring," I replied. "She's checking out your hairdo and wondering if something like that would work for her. Now you get to do something you could never do as a man, because she'd think you were making a pass. Smile at her. "What? But ... " "Quick, smile at her! The light's changing!" He did, and she beamed back at him approvingly. "Now thank her with your eyes!" He must have, Katie, because the woman turned away and pulled ahead with a quietly satisfied look. My cute hubby had just had his first wordless woman-to-woman exchange with a complete stranger! Now he belonged to our sorority! He was one of us! I had to reinforce it immediately. "You do look very attractive, Laurie! I love your hair, even if I do say so myself!" And the dear came through! "Thank you, Angela," he said. "It's sweet of you to say so! I love it too." And I think at that moment he actually did! He'd just felt what every woman needs from other women, approval. He'd gotten it, so he felt self-assured. His male ego was tickled too by the evidence that he was attractive to a woman, I'm sure. Though that probably doesn't bear examining. At the Pharmacy we both kept it up. "Laurie, why don't you go decide what sort of make-up you'll need to fill in with while I pick up some prescriptions?" He was immediately concerned. "Prescriptions? You aren't well, Angela?" "Of course I am," I replied. "Better than ever after last night. It's just girl things. Contraceptives. Shall I get some for you too?" My sweetie hesitated. Then said, "Not necessary. After my last pregnancy, the doctor told me I couldn't have any more babies. But you do remind me, I'd better fill in supplies for my next period." And he went off. He was trying! After the pharmacist handed me his hormones I went to the Cosmetics section to look for him, and found him reading the instructions on the back of an eye shadow card. A package of Playtex Slimfit Tampons was under his arm. "'Slimfit,'" I said, actually a little surprised. "I suppose that's you for now. But I have plans, honey -- you'll be Extra-Super before long! I thought you told that woman in Walmart that you never use tampons because you never have periods." He looked pensive, and I couldn't tell if he was joking or not. "I never did, before last night," he said. "But when I woke up in the middle of the night, I found I had stained the sheets a little. There was fluid of some kind leaking out of me. I thought I'd better start using these to blot up anything like that if it should happen again." "Could it have been menstrual fluid?" I was worried that I might have torn my darling up a little with that dildo, though it was so soft I couldn't see how. "No, I don't think so, it wasn't red. Ah, you see, earlier last night I went all the way. My lover squirted himself into me, and some must have drained out afterward. I'll use these to contain it in the future, whatever it was." So much the better. If Laurie plugs himself each time we fuck, I was thinking, then his estrogen suppositories will certainly remain in his rectal cavity until they're completely absorbed, melted down in part by my pee. I loved the idea! "You're certainly right," I said. "We all use tampons for occasional discharges. If you ever need help inserting them, just ask. I'd love to." He glanced at me slyly. "Meanwhile, you're right that green is an eye shadow color for blondes. What else do you need, do you think?" "I don't know, Angela," Laurie said unexpectedly in very nearly his natural voice. "If you really want me to wear make-up when we're out together playing like this, then I will. I liked how it felt when that woman in the car admired me. And I do want to look nice for you. And it *is* fun. But I need lots of help." I almost hugged and kissed him there in the aisle, even with other people all around. He'd accepted that there would be lots more trips like this! I pushed it a little! "Not only when we're out together, sweetheart. When you're out by yourself too, I'll want to know you look just right. Every girl should whenever she goes out! You never know when you might meet that special someone! I'll show you how." Then we went through the Mall looking for other items too. We bought him new sandals with thin straps and a slight lift in the heel, very dainty. "These are especially for thin legged pants that end above the ankles -- Capri pants," I told him. "We'll get you some." And I added that he'd need pumps, a few different colors for different outfits. He smiled and nodded -- I think he thought I was joking. We bought him more panties of course, bikinis, thongs, and hi-legs, all sorts but none plain, all satiny and lacy "to sweeten that delicious bottom of yours!" He asked why so many, and I told him that from now on that's what he'd wear, because I wanted him to wear them until he considered it normal and never thought to wear anything else, and I looked straight at him so he'd know I wasn't joking. He looked back, faintly addled, but he nodded. I told him that would be true of other things too, I'd let him know when. Immediately, I let him know. "I want my girl to always wear a pretty nightgown to bed for when we make love. I want her always to look pretty for me when I come to bed. Do you see one on that rack you especially like? Pick one out!" He did, and when I lifted it off on its hanger and told him he had exquisite taste, he actually blushed. But he didn't object. I was going to wait until his breasts grew out far enough for him to know that he needed his own brassieres, but I noticed him staring discreetly at a display of them. The way men do, fascinated to see intimate garments even when there's no girl wearing them. "Shouldn't I have one of these," he asked me. "With breast forms or filler? I really need to look a little more womanly when we're out here pretending like this. I'd feel more comfortable if I knew there was less chance people could tell what I was." "If you'd feel more comfortable," was all I said. "It's certainly proper for a girl to wear one. Which style would you like?" I didn't mention that they'd soon be necessary, not just proper. The hormones in my shopping bag at that very moment would see to it. Of course he chose a scanty confection of lace and net that his real breasts would surely tumble out of in a moment, when he had them, but it was in the same shade as his new nightgown, and I couldn't discourage that kind of thinking. "Isn't that precious?" I said to him. "You'll love it! But let me buy you something for every day, too." I then chose a pretty but practical bra for him in a B cup, plain white satin, one he could wear with any of his T-shirts. And a Wonder-Bra, a delightful pushup, for when his necklines called for cleavage. We were making lots of progress! When we were paying for our purchases, we chatted with the salesgirl like old friends. "People do confuse us with Frederick's of Hollywood, often," she said. "Or with Victoria's Secret. But our lingerie has its own style. Not just sexy-slutty or society-provocative. Proper, attractive but decent. We try to be a place where mothers can take their daughters." "And yet you carry exotic things like these?" Laurie asked with a slight smile, holding up the bra he'd chosen and also a pair of thong panties. "What kinds of daughters can your customers be raising?" The salesgirl laughed. "Well, ma'am, some of the daughters are a lot like their mothers. First seduce and marry some man with lots of money and then enjoy the good things in life, including other men. Men love to see us wearing really feminine lingerie. How else can a girl attract them?" "With our minds?" Laurie asked. "With our grace, and charm, and beauty?" "Of course with those things," she said, smiling. "But even when men are entranced by our grace and charm, they're always still trying to get closer to the promised land. There comes a time when, if they don't see seductively clad boobs and pussies, they lose interest in our minds." Laurie agreed. "Men!" he said, and we all three laughed knowingly. He was relaxing into his new role, enjoying intimate talk with other women. So I thought to bring it closer to home. "Do mothers ever take their sons here?" I asked "Sometimes. To punish them for misbehaving. It's an old way to deal with unruly boys, 'petticoat punishment'. But some girls these days think a boy in panties and a bra or a slip and a dress is all the more fascinating, a lot less threatening than the football hunks. More like them. More likely to be a sort of understanding girlfriend maybe, as well as a boyfriend. Some of them think a boy in a bra is real punk, glamorous and rebellious, like all those rock stars who wear long hair and lipstick. So it's not much of a punishment." I just had to ask the next question. "Do wives bring husbands here to make them over into girlfriends?" "Forty-two percent of our customers are men," she replied uneasily. "They buy for their wives or maybe their sweethearts or maybe themselves. I never ask." "But wives buying for husbands?" Laurie interrupted. He wanted to know too. To feel less odd or freakish? She hesitated a long time. "I see a few couples each week. Then I'll sometimes see some of the men here by themselves afterward, nicely dressed, quite stylish sometimes, shopping for more lingerie just like any other women. Sometimes they're even accompanied by other men. Maybe that's as arranged their wives. Or maybe their wives don't know!" She shrugged. "Oh?" That was Laurie again. Finally she looked at each of us in turn. "When I came to work here," she said in a low voice, "I thought it would be fun to fix my own husband up with his own lingerie. He loved it! So much that eventually he fixed himself up the rest of the way and left me for another man!" "You poor dear!" Laurie said, after a glance at me. "Oh, I don't mind, now. He's happy, or she is, I should say. It's just that toward the end we both made a play for the same man, and she got him. She was shameless!" I glanced amused at Laurie. No response at all. What was he thinking? Did he feel threatened? I decided it was time for lunch and more talk. My sweet Laurie was certainly wearying. The whole time I'd been tending to shopping, he'd been anxiously trying to move and carry himself like a girl, or at least not like a man. He knew that his face declared him female enough, and that his unisex clothes declared him to be a female unconcerned with her femininity, one who took it for granted. But still, any man dressed like a woman and out in public for the first time must fear ridicule. He needed reassurance, I was sure. "You know, Laurie," I began as we sat down with our menus, "I never dreamed you'd do so well. Are you sure there isn't a little girl in you after all?" He looked teasingly at me. "You mean a big girl, don't you?" "If you like. You're my big girl who arranged to get herself well-fucked last night, remember! Without even consulting me first!" "It was one of the best ideas I've ever had, Angela. You looked so terribly helpless all week, I still don't know why, I suppose it was your work, and we've agreed never to carry our work problems home, never to talk about them. So I couldn't reach you. It was so sad. I was thinking, how can I help her feel less vulnerable, less ... used, more assertive? And I thought about how when we're making love, you sometimes make me feel like a king. And I thought about how you fixed my hair so people might think it looked feminine, and then how you enjoyed people thinking that's what I was. As if we were true girlfriends. So I thought, why not, I'll be her girlfriend any time she wants, and she can be my boyfriend any time too. Let her feel fully in charge. Let her have the full phallic experience with me!" He grinned. "Let her exult in the power of the patriarchy!" "I certainly did do just that, sweetheart. And I loved it! You know that's what I want us to do from now on, whenever we can. Do you mind?" He looked away and thought. Then, "No, not as long as it feels good to you. And it feels like this to me. Sort of normal. I like it that you want me to feel like a real woman for you, not like some man his wife wants to emasculate. If you want to play the man in bed, I'll be happy to play the woman. But I'll always need to feel ... authentic! Not like some ... mere object!" I almost hugged him again! He was being such a dear! "I'll do my best for you, you precious love!" I said, and I blew him a kiss across the table. The waitress came up at that moment and saw that moment of intimacy, and enjoyed feeling she'd shared it. "Are you sweethearts ready to order?" she asked, smiling warmly? Then she leaned over and whispered "Just the salads today, loves. There's a new substitute cook, and I don't think he knows what he's doing." We ordered salads, and she approved. "I haven't seen either of you at Lesbos," she commented. "The Dance-Bar for women like us? Do you ever go there?" "We will now that we know about it, Jill," Laurie responded brightly, reading her name-tag. "I'm new in town!" "New girls are always welcome," she said. "We're all friends there. Just ask for me. Everyone there knows me. I get around!" She winked. " "Sounds lovely!" When she was gone I commented, "So now you want to take up with the lesbian crowd. And you've been a woman only a few hours!" Laurie got serious. "Angela, it's odd! I tried last night to feel as womanly as I could when that man with the dong came at me and I felt this strong desire to ... accommodate him. To love him. And I actually managed to do it! I never expected to feel so ... well, so satisfied! So loved! When you were deep in me it felt like I completely belonged to you! It really was incredible!" I just reached across the table and held both his hands. My eyes were wet. I couldn't speak. "And I love what you did with my ... breasts this morning! Even calling them breasts gives me a delicious feeling! More like you. Closer to you!" "That's what I want for you," I said, choking. "You know that!" "I do too," he replied. If I had to, I'd remind him that he'd said that! When he found he actually had them. "It doesn't bother you, what happened to that lingerie salesgirl's husband? You aren't afraid that being a girl's catching?" I asked. "Why should I be? It doesn't bother her. And apparently not her husband either. I'm who I am. I'm not worried." He leaned forward confidentially. "You know, it's kind of nice, belonging to this secret society you women've got going for you. I didn't know it existed. You really seem so supportive of each other!" "'We women,' honey." Say it! "We women," he said. He seemed pleased. "Thank you for including me." "Laurie, when you're a woman, I'll want you to have everything a woman is entitled to." He looked pleased with that too. We'd see how pleased in a few months. "Everything!" Then on impulse I said playfully, "I tell you what! After we eat, let's go get our nails done!" He hesitated. Then, "All right. If you like. But how can I go to the office wearing a manicure?" It was time to bring Carla into the plan. Much sooner than I'd thought! "We'll just use clear polish," I said. I waved my hands to dismiss all such problems. So he agreed. The waitress brought us our salads while we were still holding hands, and grinned and shook her head. "You lovebirds!" she said. "I guess we are," I replied. I was feeling happy. ----------- end 4/10 This story can be found in it's entirety at www.go.to/furysaga -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+