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From: vickietern@aol.com (VickieTern)
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Subject: {ASSM} Sucker by Vickie Tern 4/11 TG Femdom
Date: Fri, 25 Aug 2000 01:10:17 -0400
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{ASSM}Sucker by Vickie Tern (4/11) TG Femdom Wife F/M M/M
The following story contains explicit descriptions of sexual
behavior, several kinds. It should not be read by those too
young to do so lawfully or by others who do not enjoy such stories.
The young don't listen, the others sometimes need to be reminded
who they are.
- o - o - o -
"What kind of work?" This had started out as a brief ordeal to be
lived through and forgotten. Now it was beginning to look like a
lifetime employment.
"For one thing, giving you pride in your abilities. Sophisticated
skills. Improving your techniques. Getting enough experience with
cocks and with sucking on them so you're comfortable and familiar
with their different shapes and how they feel." She paused. I
could tell what that pause meant. Then it came. "Learning how
different men respond differently to different approaches, until
the right techniques become second nature. So you'll know
instinctively what to do with Bruce's penis when the time comes."
I looked at her. I had no idea what my facial expression was
telling her, but I saw hers settle into a hard, unyielding mask.
anticipating my objections and ready to stick by her statement.
"Different men?" was all I asked.
"You know perfectly well what I said," she replied coldly. "Bruce
gave me the name of a bar where you can get a lifetime of
experience in only one night, if you're diligent and use
your time well."
"This was to have been only one cock, one time," I reminded her
solemnly.
"A big league cock," she replied. "You aren't even a bush leaguer,
yet. Sam, I don't hear enthusiasm in your voice. I don't see you
leaning forward toward all the challenges. You aren't eager to
learn this new skill and learn to enjoy your virtuosity! You told
me you'd come to the realization that it's an art form!"
"When I was watching Stacy cock suck Chuck," I corrected her.
"She's the artist. I'm not."
"You will be. You'll have to be, won't you? Just think of it this
way. We're sending you to art school to bring out whatever talent
you've got. You supply the dedication. Talent is a gift. I
really do hope you've got it. I really don't want to lose this new
you. The last few days have been the happiest of my life, Sam.
And the most promising."
I had nothing to say. I had, after all, initiated this whole
thing, and I had agreed to go first. What I was willing to do was
a done deal. The only remaining questions were how good did I have
to be, and how would I get that way. And the answers to those were
settled in Debbie's mind. I had no alternative ideas. I had to go
with Debbie's.
"They've been the happiest for me too," I replied. Debbie's face
relented, and she smiled almost gratefully. "Worth it. Worth
whatever they need to cost me!" I added. In for a penny, I
thought, in for a pound. "Worth anything!"
At that she flew into my arms. I held her close. I kissed her
face everywhere I could reach, when she had stopped sobbing her joy
into my shoulder. I was consoling her! Amazing! My cock began to
harden again. Better not, I thought. Not if somehow I have to
work up a strong desire to suck off Bruce. And a small voice in my
head now added, 'And lots of other guys first."
Debbie felt my bulge and rubbed her belly against it. "I love
you," she said simply.
"Must we do this?" I asked her?
"That's why I love you," she added. "Because you're willing to do
this. You're incredible!"
I had no reply to that. "Anything else?" I asked. I hoped that
we were done. I had a difficult few weeks ahead of me,
brainwashing myself to make love to a guy, more than one guy, a
whole saloonful of queers it looked like.
"Only one other thing. It's something that'll make everything else
much easier," Debbie said. "In fact it might even give you the
same kind of pleasure Stacy gets. The kind I'll get, I hope, when
I finally go down on you, sweetheart."
She remained in my arms, hers arms around my neck as if she were
reluctant to let go. I felt her breasts pressing against my chest,
warm and pillowy. Her belly slid against my raging cock yet again.
I couldn't help it, I pivoted my own hips ever so slightly up and
across its softness. But she didn't pull away. Her eyes looked
steadily into mine while she waited for me to ask.
"What other thing?" I asked.
"You'll need to look desirable to Bruce, or he won't be
interested."
"I'm not now desirable? You said he agreed to do it!"
"Conditionally."
"What's the condition?" How bad could it be, after everything else
I'd just heard.
"Sweetheart," she said, still watching my face while her belly slid
and rotated across my cock. "You remember what I told you about
Bruce's dates, those gorgeous girls who come to the office to meet
him when they're en route together to some cocktail bar and dinner
and who knows what else?
"The girls who are guys underneath. Or used to be guys. Yes, I
remember."
She just continued to look at me, silent. Did her mouth curl ever
so slightly? She waited. Finally I saw what she meant, and I felt
a surge of pure terror!
"No!!" I said.
"Yes!" she said. "We'll need to make you over into one of those
girls." And she closed her eyes and tightened her arms around my
neck, and pulled me down to her face, her red lips partly open.
"You want what Bruce wants, and that's what Bruce wants. I want it
too! I want you to! You'll need to, if you're to manage all the
rest! You'll be a girl when you give him head, and that's why
you'll love it! That's why you'll do it so well! You'll be
sensational! It'll be fabulous! You'll be so beautiful, darling!"
And she covered my mouth with hers, and I felt her tongue thrust
into my mouth. Her arms now clamped our faces together, her hands
on the back of my head, holding me immovable. I could say nothing.
I sucked instinctively on her tongue. She pressed her belly closer
against me and rotated it inexorably, and I felt a slow rise of
desire and pleasure there. I couldn't stop it. My pleasure
overflowed! Pure joy! And my penis erupted! Spasms! Bliss!
I couldn't help myself! I came! My cock throbbed against her
belly and pumped cum into my underwear. I was sure she could feel
me pulsing, maybe even feel the wet spot slowly spreading out, yet
she never stopped pressing her belly snug against me. It was odd,
that orgasm into my pants. A feeling of fulfillment yet impotence,
of filling an erotic need and yet emptying one, of squirting at
random, of rapturous discharge into ... nothing. She wanted me to
become a girl! Is that what it would feel like? Our kiss went on
and on. Her belly slid on my softening prick.
Finally she eased the pressure of her arms on my neck just a
little, and I pulled away from her until our noses barely touched.
In the afterglow of my climax I had come to a decision. No way!
This had gone too far. I would have to break it to her.
"I'm sorry!" I began, in a firm whisper. I had to tell her that I
meant to bug out altogether. This was the most precious darling
girl in the world, my wife, and I loved her past reckoning, and to
deepen and secure our relationship I was now reconciled to sucking
off her faggot office manager and first whoever else it took to
learn how to do the job right. But no way was I going to become a
girl who was once a man! My voice choked, and I was tearful, but
I had to say it! "I never intended to go this far...," I began.
What would have happened if Debbie had understood what I was about
to say? Did she in fact understand it but refuse to acknowledge
it? I won't ever know now. She interrupted what was to have been
my farewell speech with a speech of her own.
"It's all right, baby, it's all right!" she said consolingly, still
rubbing her belly against me. "Don't be sorry! Be glad! I'm
really delighted that the idea excites you so much that your penis
explodes at the very thought! It excites me too! It's the most
exciting thing I can imagine! My darling husband, my soul mate, my
partner for life, agreeing to look like a girl for me. And live
like one until it feels so natural he almost thinks that's what he
is! Giving up his manhood for me! Because he wants to feel closer
to me! Did any man ever do such a thing for his wife before now?
It's just awesome!"
"No, Debbie, that's not what ..." I started to say again, trying to
correct her. But she took that as the answer to her question, and
continued as if I hadn't spoken at all.
"All right, apparently giving up his manhood! That's an even
bigger sacrifice in some ways! Doing whatever's necessary to seem
to be a real girl when she sucks off her man. Not some sissy cock
sucker, not just one more queer, but to seem to be an actual
voluptuous girl, desirable and desiring! And all because that's
what I want him to be!"
She looked me up and down, delighted.
"To please me! Oh, sweetheart, it'll take weeks of hard work, but
I know you'll do it beautifully! I can tell by the way you move to
my exercise tapes! You're a born girl! Or very nearly! Don't be
sorry about soaking your undershorts, precious! That's the last
time you'll ever wear those bulky things anyway. We'll replace
them with beautiful, beautifully trim satin and nylon and lace
panties you'll prefer to wear by far, and you can cum into any of
those any time your darling heart desires! That's what they'll be
for! Or cum into me, through any opening your heart desires, when
all this is over! And we'll buy you exquisite bras to match! And
slips, and dresses, and ... everything! You'll be stunning! A
perfect girl! You'll adore it! And I'll adore you!"
It was a filibuster. No room to get words in edgewise. She went
on and on, and not once did her hips pause in their slow rolling
against my crotch. My prick never had a chance to lose its
tumescence. It softened a little, then began growing again.
"Oh, it'll be so wonderful! I do hope you'll learn to love being
a girl even after we're finished with Bruce, so we can do other
things together, go out together both of us and enjoy ourselves
being two women out together, live our lives together...."
"Debbie!" I tried again. But she was lost. She had drifted in
her imagination into another world where I was already a woman,
never letting go of me the whole time. She held me tightly,
lovingly, around the neck. I'd already agreed to give up a large
part of my manhood. I'd agreed to become a cock sucker for her,
not just once for this one guy Bruce but for lots of others, to
train myself for the main event. And psych myself up to *want* to
do it! Would there be any of the old me left anyhow? And what had
she said -- that if I was a girl the cock sucking part of it would
be much easier? That was probably true. When a girl goes down on
a man, she's even more of a girl, she doesn't lose any part of
herself. Girls enjoy it! They're completed by it! Isn't that
what I'd argued to Debbie? And now here Debbie was, her body
pressed against mine, her face turned up to mine, her red lips
moist and parted, her eyes closed, telling me the same thing.
Waiting for my reply. I kissed her. And with that kiss I was
lost.
v.
My training began at once.
When we disentangled our arms from one another, Debbie stood back
and looked at me. "I do so want to wrap myself around you
sweetheart, and never let you go. But from now on, we both deny
ourselves! You don't come near me, except maybe to hug me the way
girlfriends hug each other. You don't come near any climax that
Bruce or the thought of Bruce doesn't excite in you. I'll get you
a picture of him so you can masturbate looking fondly at him, if
you must. But only while thinking about him. You're his,
physically, from now on. I want you to be so hard up in only one
month that you'll do him rapturously in order to get me ready to do
you! You'll do him because he wants you to do him, the way you
wanted me to do you! Because that's what you want to do, because
he's so handsome and you're so much in love with the idea. I want
you so smitten by him that if he were to ask you to do it, you'd do
a whole barnyard of animals " She paused, and her face took on a
mischievous expression. "Or you'd let a whole barnyard of animals
do you!"
"Thanks!" was all I could say to any of that.
"Oh, you'll thank me, honey! Take my word for it! You will! But
meanwhile I need to thank you! This is better than anything I'd
ever dreamed I'd have when we first got married. I knew you were
a love! But a darling husband who lets me remake him into anything
I want? Into a cock sucker? Into a Barbie doll? Into a cock
sucking Barbie doll? How many girls have one of those?"
Was it too late to retrieve myself? I needed clarification.
"Bruce will want me to look like a girl when I do him, I understand
that, Debbie," I began.
"The same as you'll want me to look like a girl when I do you,
Sammy honey! Isn't that right? So let's get started"
"But you want that too? For me to look like a girl when I do him?"
"That's what I want too. That's right. That's what I want you to
be for me too. Right now, and from now on. Believe me,
sweetheart, it will not injure our relationship for me to see you
looking like a girl! It'll make things better in many ways. It'll
bring us closer, because I'll feel you understand me better as a
woman. That as a woman you understand me better. That you're my
husband-wife. My girlfriend-sister. I'll love it!"
"Debbie, what do you mean, 'from now on'?"
"Sweetheart, one day at a time. I think we can each decide later
what it is we want to see happen later."
That made sense.
"All right, then," I said.
"All right!" she replied." Did I hear a trace of elation in her
voice? "Now, for these next weeks you're a girl. We'll do
everything we can to make you look like one. You'll live, talk,
and think like one, and you'll need to forget that you were ever
anything else. Do you agree? Can you do that? Do you see how it
has to be all or nothing, and all at once?"
"Yes."
"No arguments about whether we're going too fast? Or too far?"
"No, Debbie. I'll do whatever you think best."
"You give me your word on that?"
I thought I'd better be wary. Limit the agreement. "For the next
four weeks, yes. No arguments. You have my word."
"Good. So why don't you strip naked right now, honey, and we'll
begin. Right here. A girl shouldn't be wearing those clothes.
They're too mannish."
There was no reaching her. And no going back. I undid my belt
buckle. A minute later I was peeling off my sticky, soaked
underpants and stood naked in front of her.
She was thinking out loud. "I guess first, we'll need to get rid
of all that hair. Let's go to the bathroom and we'll depillate
you. Make your body as sweet and smooth as mine. Take those wet
panties with you. In fact, stuff the soaked parts into your mouth
right now. It'll save on needless conversation and it'll start you
getting accustomed to the flavor."
I looked at the sticky mess of broadcloth in my hands, my
reluctance obvious.
"Sam! If you won't do what your dearest girl friend tells you,
I'll have to order you to do it as your wife, and then get much
more severe! For your own good! You agreed to all this! And I
like telling men what to do, and I know how to get them to do it!
By whatever means! Hold that in mind! That's how I get things
done at work, and not only at work!"
I started to cram my undershorts into my mouth, not altogether
understanding her.
"Wet places first, please," she said as if she were a schoolmarm
talking to an unruly child. I took out whatever I'd managed to
shovel into my mouth.
"Yes ma'am!" I said with defiant irony. Debbie said nothing. She
simply waited.
This time I crammed it in cum first. It was all still tacky, and
not as warm as when it was next to my body. Mostly it was just
cloth, and the sticky stuff was a little like the warm egg whites
I'd tasted from her gravy baster? A lot like that stuff in the
gravy baster, in fact. No fishy flavor, but about as slick.
Saltier? A bit bitter? A hint of ammonia or chlorine? And what
else was there in it, not unpleasant, but unfamiliar?
"You'll get used to the flavor of sperm soon enough, honey," Debbie
said, as if she could read my mind. "You'll have to. All sorts of
that delicious cock-cream you're always urging on me. If you're
good at your new job, that is!"
Then she added, and I couldn't tell if she was being sincere or
ironic, "Feel grateful whenever you taste it, baby. Learn to love
it! A man's semen coating the inside of your mouth or discharged
down your throat will have to seem to you altogether natural,
usual, and customary. Because it'll mean a job well done. Every
reason for you to feel proud of yourself. That's the kind of pride
that makes a girl into a woman -- we'll just have to see what it
makes you! You heard what the girl in the video said. Sperm is
your reward for finally bringing your man off! It's the proof of
the pudding! It *is* the pudding, isn't it! Eat and enjoy! Now
let's get started!"
I couldn't answer her, of course, with my mouth filled with cummy
cloth.
An hour later I was standing in the guest bedroom looking down at
a nightie she'd laid out for me to wear to bed. I was a girl in a
man's body, and that was that! A hairless body. My skin
was bare everywhere below the eyebrows. Even my prick and balls
were naked, looking rather lonely and pathetic hanging there as if
a little out of place. When finally Debbie'd let me take my
cum-soaked shorts out of my mouth, I'd asked her "Why no hair down
there? No one but you will ever see me there?" She'd replied
simply, "You never know."
Then she'd had me rub body lotion all over me, to soothe the
irritated skin and help me feel smoother. "A girl's skin should
feel the way yours felt before your adolescence," she said.
"You'll get back to that as you develop, but meanwhile you'll need
to use creams and lotions several times each day.
"Develop?" I asked?
"Look your best. And feel good about the way you look. Don't
worry about it," she said. She then sprayed me with cologne. The
lotions were soothing, and I have to admit that even the
coarsest-feeling parts of my body -- my arms, for example -- now
felt velvety. But now I smelled like a flower garden. The way she
always smelled. I commented on that.
"Tomorrow we go shopping," she said. "You'll choose your own
signature scent and then stick with it -- an aroma that seems
fresh during the day but a little heavier and more romantic in the
evening." Now she was putting my hair up in rollers. "Your scent
is what your men will remember about you when you move from one to
another. These rollers? They're so you can look pretty tomorrow.
Tomorrow we'll get your hair done so you won't need to sleep
wearing rollers again. Something as pretty but more practical.
After tonight you'll appreciate that too."
"My men? You mean the guys I'm supposed to practice on before I
get to Bruce?
"Those too," she replied, distracted. She was staring at my chest.
Almost absent-mindedly, she reached out and touched a nipple. I
jumped. It was so sensitive! Erotic desire shot through me!
"So soon," she said mostly to herself. "Who'd have thought it?
You do have a talent for this, Sam!" Then abruptly, "Good
Night, sweetie!"
She shut the door. I slipped the nightie over my head. It felt
wonderful on my bare skin. Then once in bed I realized I'd have to
lie almost immobile on my back to keep the hair rollers from poking
into unaccustomed parts of my head. So I kept real still, and
eventually managed to get to sleep.
When I woke the next morning Debbie was already beside me, sitting
by my bedside, reading. As I turned my head toward her I felt
those curlers pressing on my scalp. How did I get into this? A
chain sequence. To get Debbie to go down on me whenever I wanted
I had to go down on a guy once, looking like a girl when I did it,
and I had to be good so I had to practice on a few other guys
first. All in a few weeks. Thinking of it all at once like that
it seemed a little scary, because it was all new, but it wasn't too
bad a deal I thought, not too difficult. With a lifetime's reward!
It will be easier, I thought, if for the next weeks I really try to
forget who I am. Put my manhood on hold. Be an actor. Pretend
I'm a girl who loves to hold a prick in her mouth.
"Good morning, Samantha," Debbie greeted me brightly. 'Did you
sleep well?"
"Samantha," I repeated. It figured. "Why yes, thank you," I
replied. "It's so very sweet of you to ask! I slept just
marvelously!"
I thought I sounded like Scarlet O'Hara. I didn't mean for it to
sound swish ironic, but that's how Debbie heard it. "It is indeed,
Sam. Most women are wakeful the first night they try to sleep with
their hair set in rollers, and they look terrible the next day.
They get used to it, but it's one of the sacrifices they make for
men that men never know about. One of many. I think you might
appreciate my concern for you a little more sincerely. I do love
you, you know. You may not believe this, but everything we're
doing here is because of that!"
I felt chastened. "I'm sorry, Debbie," I said. "A little. I know
that women are always saying 'How very sweet!' and 'It's just
darling!' and 'How adorable!' and things like that men never say.
I was trying to fake it, yes. But it felt good saying it. Kind of
liberating to be able to say it. Because it *was* sweet of you to
ask!"
That pleased her enormously. "Well, Samantha darling, it's sweet
of you to admit that. I think there's a chance that this just
might work out. We're being women full time now, remember, from
now at least until we come back from our weekend at the Avalon, so
there is nothing inappropriate you can do that pertains to being a
woman, and nothing appropriate you can do that pertains to being a
man. Remember that."
I nodded solemnly. I wasn't a good enough actor to act out being
a girl, I decided. Pretending won't persuade anybody. So I'll try
to do it her way.
"From now on you'll want to do feminine things with no hesitation,
Samantha, and surrender yourself into them, and feel natural about
it. Even pleased. You'll see. It'll be a little like walking
through a narrow door into a widening corridor leading finally
outside to a different world. A woman's world. Liberating
yourself -- your word, baby -- into that world. I think it's a
wonderful world. You'll see for yourself. Today you pass through
the door. Here, let me show you how to wrap a turban around your
hair so we can do our exercises. We'll do them naked. There'll
only be us girls here, right? You're one of us now, remember
that!"
It felt strange high-stepping and weaving my shoulders and shaking
my bootie and my chest with all those women on the tape, all the
while completely nude, Debbie right next to me doing the same thing
in her deliciously girl way, also nude. I saw that her slim waist
curved to wide hips with her pussy plumb in the middle, and her
firm-breasts gently bobbled with each hop or twist or step. The
girls on the tape had the same proportions even though their bodies
were held firm by leotards or tank suits.
There was a full-length mirror on the wall of our game room. I
could see that I needed still more fluidity, more grace, in
comparison with the other girls, and I tried harder. The TV girls
in spandex and Debbie in her skin were all round places and
graceful bulges and cute curves. By the end of the session I was
beginning to feel vaguely that I was the wrong shape -- too skinny,
straight-as-a-stick, my waistline too large for my hips, my hips
too narrow to swing wide around both sides of my groin the way the
girls' hips did. And while my shoulders weren't too broad -- they
never had been -- I was flat-chested. I had none of the
beautifully curving mounds the TV girls showed proudly, nor was my
flesh hanging softly down, yet uplifted to large pink nipples like
Debbie's. Only jouncing balls and a floppy cock. I felt somehow
wrong, as far as dancing to the exercise tapes went. Debbie and
the other girls looked impressive whether standing or moving.
Neatly composed. I looked unattractive.
When we were finished and dripping with sweat and heading for the
shower, I commented on it. "I see I've got to work on my figure,"
I said, a little self-amused. Debbie, still breathing hard, only
glanced at me and said nothing. She gave me a plastic bubble
shower cap to protect my hairdo, still in rollers, but as we were
getting out and drying off she commented, "You're right. You might
be a little more attractive to Bruce if you were a little rounder
in the right places, that's true. Certainly you'd be more attractive
to me. And to yourself! We can't do everything in a month, but I can
speed what's under way already, honey. Would you like me to?"
What would a female reply to that be? Could a woman refuse an
offer that was kindly intended? "I'd like that very much, Debbie.
You're a dear. But you don't have to."
"Oh, I really want to," Debbie said with a smile. "But this time
you better mean it. Is today too soon?"
"For what, Debbie?"
"To arrange for a little more rounding in the right places." She
watched me closely.
My reply was casual, because I'd merely been registering how my
shape compared with everyone else's I'd seen this morning, none of
them male. My standard of comparison had to be female. "I don't
mind, if it can get me through this trial period with less hassle,"
I replied. "Sure!" It seemed to me that a little more rounding
meant I'd be getting a little more to eat. At least an honest
second milkshake each day. I didn't like sneaking the extras, so
far three days out of three. "Would I be allowed two of those diet
milkshakes?"
"It's possible. They'd help. I have a doctor in mind -- I'll ask
her. You're showing exceptional response after only three days,
and I don't want any harm to come to you, sweetheart. But I know
she can also help improve your figure another way, by
redistributing some of your fat cells. Take a few away from here
and put them there. Just enough to hint an improvement in your
figure. If you'd feel much better about yourself I'll arrange it.
You wouldn't mind?"
"No, of course not." What harm could there be in that?
"Lovely!"
- o - o - o -
End Sucker 4/11
If you are missing a part then this story can be found at
www.go.to/furysaga under Vickie Tern's Wives and Girlsfriends Page
(c) 2000 by Vickie Tern. May be copied to free archives and
accessed from them. But do let me know, VickieTern@AOL.COM
VickieTern@AOL.COM
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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