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Subject: {ASSM} Scenes, by Vickie Tern, 12/17  TG Femdom F/m m/M F/M etc
Date: Mon,  1 Oct 2001 10:10:04 -0400
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Scenes, by Vickie Tern, 12/17  TG Femdom F/m m/M F/M etc

This is a tale about a married couple who try to meet each 
other's needs, and also their own.  What they think are each 
other's needs, that is.  What they think are their own.

It includes explicit sex scenes.  Married sex, mostly, gentle, 
loving, and appreciative, mostly.  If by reason of age, 
temperament, or moral principle you shouldn't or don't want 
to read about such things, think hard what to do about it, 
and you'll figure it out I'm sure.








                  Scenes from a Marriage
                      by Vickie Tern
                 
                    (vickietern@aol.com)   




                                12.

But Carol wasn't sure.  Every day Carl's femininity grew stronger,
as it should.  She suddenly realized that despite his innocence
Coral might well reap what she was releasing in Carl.  He might
actually get romantically interested in men.  There was no sign of
it so far, except maybe for those wriggling hips.  Should she
encourage or discourage him?  A whole new set of questions she and
Maddy discussed endlessly.  ""You have to let him find himself,"
Maddy told her over and over.  "We all have to move on!"  

Gradually Carol accepted that whatever would be would be.  Maddy
reassured her.  "It could even help if he got a crush on a man,
Carol," she commented one day.  "Remember your first crush, how it
made you feel?"  Yes, Carol had to admit. It had been marvelous. 
Christopher, that wonderful boy.  The first cock she'd ever sucked,
oh so timidly, his crotch still hairless as a baby's.  And the
whole rest of that summer?  She'd never been so glad she was a
girl!  

What Carol said about Carl's figure filling in was true.  As more
weeks passed, Carl noticed that his shape was indeed shaping up,
but not at all as he'd hoped.  He saw in his locker one day that
Callista given him a leotard with additional elastic in back to
hold up and shape his now-enlarged buns.  When he caught a glimpse
of his rear in the mirror one day he saw why -- his rear end was
like Sondra's, two globes flaring out beneath a waist that was
skinny as ever!  But now the word was "tiny" because below, his 
hips had grown quite broad.  His wardrobe was now filled with the 
tight pants and skirts Bea recommended.  "Ya got 'em, flaunt 'em!" 
Bea often told him as they walked through a mall.  And swing 
your hips more, girl!  It's good for the abs!"   Carl soon 
noticed men looking back at his rump as they walked by.  It was 
disturbing, yet also oddly satisfying!  Maybe that was how a 
hunky figure began?

But his chest was softening too -- his bras now held shapes that
were decisive.  Callista worked with him on his upper body, and his
pectorals seemed to develop as if he were growing boobs!  In fact,
he wondered why they looked like boobs!  They hurt all the time.  His
nipples were deliciously sensitive, each day stretching into larger
circles with thicker stubs centered in them.  Inexplicable!  Why
wasn't his growth spreading across his whole chest, so he'd look
manly?

Callista told him to wait, people grow as they grow, he was
developing nicely.  He insisted that his enlarged pectorals were
soft, that shouldn't be, he needed more exercise!  So one morning,
with a quiet smile, she told him she'd booked him for a
consultation with Sergei.

It was the strangest experience of his life.  Sergei was massive,
with a thick neck supporting a mop of straw-colored hair and a
flashing smile he obviously thought devastating.  Maybe it was.  

"All right, little lady," he said when Carl entered his weight
room.  "Callista tells me you aren't satisfied with the way your
chest is growing.  Just sit that cute bottom on this massage table
for a moment and tell me, what's the problem?"

Carl hopped up on the fixed, leather-padded table, and sat there,
swinging his legs.  Sergei suddenly was standing close in front of
him and leaning in.  One tree-like thigh was practically between
Carl's legs.  Carl spread his knees a little to avoid touching it,
and Sergei visibly smiled.  Another conquest, so soon?  He edged
closer, both thighs between Carl's legs now.

Carl told him what was wrong in a quaking voice -- the physical
power this man radiated was enormous!  "I'm growing these ...
growths on my upper body.  They aren't muscles.  They're soft."

"Really?  Show me!"

Carl slipped his leotard off his arms.  His new breasts -- they
were that now, though only orange-sized behind his huge nipples --
hung down!  Carl was intensely embarrassed for some reason.  He
felt naked, and he hunched his shoulders together as if that would
hide them.

"Beautiful, little lady.  And what's wrong with them?"

"Should they be this ... concentrated?  Shouldn't they be more
spread out?"

"Perhaps.  Feel mine.  Put those dainty fingers on my shoulders and
then run them across my chest, and tell me what you feel."  He
leaned way forward, smiling encouragingly.  A little mischievously
too, Carl thought.  And did his legs force Carl's knees apart just
a bit more?  

Carl began to regret this consultation.  It was uncomfortable,
touching this huge man's bare, massive shoulders and chest.  Carl
couldn't help but notice how his own beautifully manicured
fingertips, with their rich-rust-colored, jewel-like nails, danced
over Sergei's rippling musculature.  He stroked Sergei's bare skin
delicately. "You're hard there!" he said shyly.  "And here too. 
You're like slabs of rock."

"And now?"  Sergei suddenly allowed his pectoral muscles to go
slack.  The huge mountains of meat fell forward toward Carl.  Carl
leaned back to move his face away -- they were almost in his mouth! 
Now Sergei was leaning over Carl like an ardent lover, Carl leaning
way back propped on his elbows, staring up into Sergei's face
helplessly, unable to move.

"Kiss me!"

Carl did.  He had no choice!  On Sergei's curved lips.  He actually
kissed a man!  Sergei moved up, and his huge pectoral muscle sloped
toward Carl's mouth.  

"Again!"

There was Sergei's flat nipple.  Carl kissed it too.  He felt stiff
rigidity behind it, as if he were kissing the end of a football.

"You aren't at all like that, are you?" Sergei said.  "Now lie back
flat"

Carl did, flat on his back, eyes round and fearful.  Sergei's chest
muscles retreated into dense masses again as he picked up a small
bottle of perfumed oil and his huge hands began to knead Carl's 
shoulders, then up and down his slender rib cage, and finally they
cupped and squeezed and caressed and oiled Carl's newly-rounded
breasts.  Repeatedly.  A thumb now and then touched each erect,
straining nipple as if by accident, and Carl each time felt a jolt
of pleasure flash like lightning down into his crotch!

"Wrap me around my waist with your legs, little lady!  Try to crush
me!  Pull me toward you!  Let me feel the strength of your thighs!"

Carl did.  Now he could feel Sergei's package in its red Speedos
pushing against his open crotch, against that place where his penis
and balls were folded down.  Sergei nudged him there, then again. 
It was as if Sergei was standing there fucking him, his hands
kneading Carl's chest growths while he fucked Carl's invisible
cunt.  

All the while Carl lay back on the massage table and clamped Sergei
closer with all the strength in his legs.  Groaning!  Not in
ecstasy, in terror!  Carl tightened his leg muscles around Sergei's
waist in a vain effort to keep Sergei from raping him all the while
Sergei relentlessly stroked and caressed and fondled his tits. 
Because that's what they were!  Tits!  Carl was shocked to realize
there was no denying it!

Sergei seemed to know what he was thinking.  "See?" he said.  "Yes! 
Woman's chests and man's chest are different.  But if you want, I
will teach you to love the way your chest is developing.  No extra
charge!"

Sergei suddenly stepped back, and the consultation was over.  The
huge man now merely smiled helpfully as Carl covered his exposed
breasts with his hands while trying to slip back into the upper
section of his leotard.  He glanced down at the Sergei's red Speedo
trunks.  The bulge there was huge!  He looked up at Sergei,
frightened.  Had it been a near thing?  Sergei smiled
enigmatically!

"I have breasts!" Carl told Carol that night when she got home from
work.  "Not pectoral muscles, breasts!":

Carol had been noticing for some time, of course, but saying
nothing.  She already knew about his session that morning with
Sergei.  Sergei had reported it to Adrienne, who had phoned Maddy,
who'd called Carol so she'd know what to expect when she got home,
and could plan how to deal with it.

"Really?" Carol had said disbelievingly.  "He kissed Sergei?  My
Carl?"

"Twice!" Maddy had assured her.  "While Sergei was caressing his
tits.  There's a real woman in him somewhere, Carol!  There's
something going on in him you'll want to watch!"

So when Carl announced that he had breasts, Carol merely looked up
as if amazed and delighted.

"Really?  Lovely!  Come upstairs this moment and show me!"

They went into their bedroom and stripped naked.  Carl lay back on
the bed with his legs over the side and Carol leaned over him,
exactly as Sergei had done.  Without thinking, Carl again spread
his legs and gripped her waist with them.  

"Do you think they're from wearing my bras all the time?" he asked.

Carol ignored the question.  She felt him gently, kneading his
small, soft protrusions with affection.  "They're not very
generous," she said as if surprised and delighted, even awed.  "But
they're very cute!"  She leaned forward to kiss one.  Then to suckle
on it.  Then she lay down on top of her hubby and began to nurse. 
Carl went into an exalted trance, and as she continued to suck him,
he began to moan.  There was no further discussion.  Carol thereafter
saw to it that he was delighted to have them, if also too embarrassed 
to discuss it.

Carol didn't seem to notice or care that what was growing on his
thin frame was more suitable for a woman than a man.  Perhaps, he
thought, it's because she has this weird notion that I'm a woman,
so somehow it's all normal.  Each time she made love to them her 
tongue would flick one of his thickened nipples, and he'd squeeze
his legs even more tightly around her waist.  Another few licks 
and he came!  He orgasmed from the sheer joy of it, all the while 
making small helpless whining cries.

His cum would spread all over Carol's tummy and breasts!  She crept up
wordlessly to allow Carl to lick his own cum off her, and
as he did so she smiled to herself.  There was nothing further he
could say.  He decided his breasts were a side effect of one of his
medicines, and would disappear in due course.  Not worrisome. 

As Carl's pectoral growths continued to grow larger, the more 
tender they felt and the more time Carol spent nursing on them.
And the more she nursed on him, the more he loved it.  Soon, 
regularly, every night, he'd enclose her head in his arms, feeling
infinitely tender as he looked down on her.  There she was, her
eyes shut, peaceful, seemingly asleep except that her lips were
working slowly on his alarmingly enlarged nipples.  It was heaven! 
So beautiful!  Often they fell asleep that way.  It felt as
exquisitely erotic for his nipples to slip in and out of her mouth
as his penis had felt when sliding slowly inside her moist mouth or
her slick pussy.  

Which wasn't much happening much any more.  And gradually stopped
happening altogether!  

Carl didn't feel troubled the first time he failed, the first night
his thing wouldn't grow stiff enough to penetrate Carol.  It
happens.  Carol seemed untroubled, and immediately bent down to
bring him off with her mouth even though he remained soft.  She
suckled his cock as if it were one of his nipples, only bigger. 
Then she pulled back as he came and spurted on her face!  Two
points for him!  It was an odd sort of soft orgasm, throbbing, not
pumping, spreading out into a luscious, voluptuous, warm yearning
he could feel all through his midriff, deep inside his chest and
down his legs!  Even in his erect nipples -- they at least had no
problem getting stiff!  

He watched as his cum spurted -- dribbled, rather -- onto her
cheeks and nose and chin, and saw for the first time that it wasn't
cloudy any more, it was clear.  He commented on the fact.  Carol's
response was to close her eyes and lift her face dreamily to be
licked.  He licked it.  It tasted clear, thin, more sweet than
salty.  Not unlike Carol's juices.  "Mmmmm," was all she said when
he told her that, smiling as if congratulating him.

The next few times she brought off his limp penis with her mouth,
she told him it tasted all the more delectable for being clear. 
She insisted on sharing it with him, first some then all of it,
collected and held in her mouth and then slowly, sweetly licked and
spooned into his with her tongue.  "You love it too," she told him
in a tone of voice that allowed no contradiction.  "You told me so. 
Girls do!  Isn't it delicious?  My girl-man!"  

Her suckling of his new breasts  together with her soft blow jobs 
was enough to meet his needs for a while.  His desire for sex was
mysteriously diminishing anyhow.  He wondered what was happening to
his body.  Did pretending to be a woman change a person's body and
desires that much?

He confided this question to Carol one day when he'd been impotent
for several months with no improvement in sight, and had been
reading with a certain nostalgia an article in his magazine "Miss
Behave!" about five ways a girl can prolong her lover's erections. 
Could his pills be responsible?  He'd noticed that she'd stopped
taking hers with him each morning, but always oversaw his taking
them.  

She shrugged, though she knew the fault was indeed Carl's hi-test
hormone pills, and she felt a slight pang at the deception.  But it
was all for his own good!   

Then she told him he was mistaken, that she was still on the pill. 
Really, back on the pill.  She didn't tell him that when his semen
first turned clear she'd stopped taking hers -- she'd gotten his
juice tested, he was no longer making sperm, all risk of pregnancy
had ended, it was no longer necessary.  She'd then begun crumbling
hers into his breakfast cereal to help speed things along.  His
face broke out and he got nauseous again, and his nipples doubled
in size within two weeks!  

Maddy cautioned her against overdoing it.  "He's coming along
nicely," she said.  "Give him a chance to get accustomed to each
new development.  You've noticed that he hasn't objected
strenuously, he doesn't really seem to mind?  Were we right or
weren't we?"

She also hinted that Carol might some day regret being off the
pill.  "You never know," Maddy said, though she did know, and she
suspected Carol knew too.  

Carol considered this advice and resumed taking them, and Carl's
complexion cleared a few days later.  His nipples remained fat
though, she saw, and Carol noticed for the first time that the
force-feeding had somehow rounded his face.  It was no longer
angular but soft.  Feminine, that was the only word for it.  Made
up to go out, Carl looked like a pretty girl and no way a man! 
Neither in body nor face.  Only in mind.

Maddy agreed.  One Saturday while Carl was off twisting his new
torso and shaking his bootie at a FormFit dance-a-thon Maddy sat
Carol down for a serious talk.  "Look here!" she said.  "He's a
lovely man!  A lovely girl, now.  I think you can be pleased with
the way things are going.  And proud of him, the way he's adjusted. 
But he's on one of those plateaus I mentioned.  You've certainly
noticed that there's been no progress for weeks now.  Your Carl is
neither here nor there."  

Carol had noticed.

"It's time for him to go further, to cross the line," Maddy sounded
quite firm.  "What good is he to you now as a man?  None!  What
good is he to himself as a woman?  None!"

It was true.  Carol considered how her husband was loitering
between two worlds, physically a man but unable to function as one,
living as a woman but unable to function as one, and she had to
agree.  

"I've been thinking," Carol said slowly.  "How unfair it is that
Carl's deprived.  He did kiss Sergei, that time.  And I know he has
a woman's special feeling about a man's sperm.  You know how we
love to feel it inside us, swallow it, keep it snug and safe in our
vaginas, the lengths we go to get it spurted into one or another of
our openings.  It's so primal, that desire.  I suspect Coral feels
that way!  She's always been willing to lick it off me, share it,
swallow it.  I'll bet it's more than that with her."   She thought
about the game they'd play with his cum, scoring points.  "But now
he doesn't make enough.  He doesn't spurt at all, he only trickles,
or maybe oozes."

Maddy saw where Carol was going.  "You miss feeling real cum inside
you?"

"Yes."  It was a bald confession!  She tempered it.  "I'm sure Carl
does too!" 

"Tell me about it," Maddy replied.  "Shouldn't you be thinking
about collecting semen from somewhere else for both of you?  Or
sending him to do it?"

Carol just stared at her.

"Isn't it time you started that phase of his training?  Taught him
to appreciate that you have needs, and taught him how to care for
his own?"   Maddy saw that her friend was thoughtful, not really
shocked.  Carol is so hard up, she thought.  Well, of course she
would be!  How long would I wait to get laid if I were her?  It's
time!

In fact, it was past time.  When Carl first went utterly impotent,
Carol had felt guilty about what she was doing to him, a little,
but she'd also felt deprived of his services.  It was a sacrifice,
she made it gladly for his own good.  And there were advantages. 
She loved his new, smooth, hairless body, and their rapturous
sessions with each other's breasts, and she loved seeing her sweet
baby's huge eyes and cute hairdo lodged between her legs as his
mouth worked each night to bring her into a state of bliss.  

But still, she did miss the way he'd once felt inside her!  She
wanted to get fucked!  She missed knowing that a man was taking his
pleasure from her by pleasuring her!  Worst of all, now that Carl
couldn't get into her at all she was deprived of her favorite
fantasy, unable to pretend to herself that Carl's gentle prick was
really the stiff pole of a high-powered, muscle bound, bucking
stallion of a he-man thrusting and pounding into her.  Could their
marriage survive this half-way condition?

Carol and Maddy talked these things through and finally arrived at
a plan.  It had several stages, nothing to freak Carl out
altogether, but enough to carry him a long way further toward
complete womanhood.  Many things make women glad to be women, but
highest among them is romance, any girl's birthright, the dreamy
anticipation of loving, sexually satisfying relationships.  Carl
needed sex re-education.  He needed to learn to dream, to desire. 
There was so very little further to go, but he had to go there to
get anywhere else.


end 12/17

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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