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From: J R D <jrdss@pobox.alaska.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} Bad Wishing:The Wannabe
Date: Sun,  9 Dec 2001 22:10:02 -0500
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Had to get a new email, so I'm reposting my old works under the new 
addy to get it out.

Now, onto the boring stuff

-------------------------

DISCLAIMERS

-------------------------

This story contains scenes of an erotic and/or controversial nature, 
and is not intended for the perusal of minors.  Further if perusal of 
such material is considered illegal in your area or immoral by your 
religion or personal beliefs, you should likewise bypass this story.

This story remains the property of the author.  Permission is granted 
to download, photocopy, copy and repost so long as any such action 
contains these disclaimers, and no attempt is made to profit from 
this story.

All characters in this story are the creation of the author, and any 
resemblance to real persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental.

This story may contain aspects of fantastic science or magic.  The 
parameters of what this science/magic can accomplish are completely 
at the discretion of me, the author, and, as such, I make no 
apologies for any rules of "real" physics, chemistry, biology, or 
magic that may be broken within the story.

-------------------------

Now onto the fun stuff

-------------------------

BAD WISHING

Kyle was morose.  He had lost another job, and, once again, it was 
because of nothing he had done.  Kyle was a wus.  He couldn't stand 
up to anybody, couldn't say no to anybody, and his co-workers took 
advantage of it.  Inevitably somebody wouldn't do their job right, 
then they'd bully Kyle into taking the blame.  And Kyle just went 
along with it.

Kyle was tempted to stop by the porn shop to get a magazine or two to 
uplift his spirits.  His favorites were those Domination mags with 
the strong, forceful men and women taking weakling men like him and 
bending them to their will.  In his fantasies, Kyle would be the 
slave of one of those women (or maybe even one of the men), doting on 
her every word, and never have to worry about having to stand up to 
anyone again.

But sometimes, in some of his fantasies, Kyle actually imagined being 
the dominator.  Being a leather clad man with dozens of slaves at his 
beck and call.  But that was a foolish dream.  Kyle didn't even have 
the guts to stand up to his co-workers, much less be a forceful Dom. 
Kyle didn't even have the guts to follow up on his submissive 
fantasies and actually contact one of the Dominatrixes who put 
advertisements in the back of the magazines he was so fond of.

Kyle eventually decided against going to the porn shop.  No telling 
where his next job would come from or what it would be.  So Kyle just 
went home.

Close to his home, Kyle took a shortcut through a park and was 
distracted from his thoughts by the sound of an angry cat.  Looking 
for a distraction, he decided to investigate and found a cat slapping 
viciously at something under the plastic play set.  The cat was too 
large to get under the thing, but it sure was trying.

Kyle figured the cat had just cornered some helpless mouse, and 
decided to show a little compassion toward the rodent.  He stepped up 
and shooed off the cat, then said, "There you go, fella.  You better 
take off before that kitty gets back."

Kyle was surprised when he heard a voice under the play set reply, 
"Thank you kindly, sir.  I'm afraid beasties of the feline persuasion 
don't take kindly to the wee folk."  The voice had a slight Irish 
brogue to it.  The kind of a person born and raised on the Emerald 
Isle, but who had spent decades overseas.

Kyle stood there stunned as a small man, no more than six inches 
tall, crawled out from under the play set.  He was dressed all in 
green and looked like something out of a fairy tale.  Kyle looked 
down at the little man and asked, "Who...  What are you?"

The little man waved his hand and grew to about two feet tall.  "I'm 
a leprechaun, of course.  I go by the name Patty.  And since you, 
sir, have saved my life, I owe you a gift."

"What?  Three wishes?"

"Nope.  You only get three wishes if you catch me and make me take 
you to my gold.  But you do get one wish.  Now if you're thinking of 
lunging at me to get three wishes, if you miss, you lose the one 
you've got."

Actually, Kyle hadn't even considered doing that.  "One wish? 
Anything I want?"

"Basically.  Keep in mind, it's a wish, not a miracle.  So no peace 
on earth or something like that.  And if you wish for something 
material, like riches, keep in mind that others will wonder where it 
came from, particularly your government tax collectors.  Basically, 
the more localized the change, the safer it is.  If you could wish 
for something that would change only you without a lot of physical 
changes, that would be best."

Kyle thought about it for a minute.  He could have his fantasy.  He 
could be some Dominatrix's pampered, obedient slave.  But he could 
also have his other fantasy.  He could finally have the strength to 
do or be whatever he wanted.  "I want to be like one of those Doms in 
the magazines."

"So a personality change?  Well, me buck-o, you got to be a little 
more specific.  You need to either describe your new personality or 
choose a specific person for me to use as a model."

Kyle thought about it.  Kyle really didn't know enough about 
specifics to describe what he wanted, so he'd be better off by 
choosing someone to be like, but who?  He thought about all the 
Masters and Mistresses described in his magazines, and how they 
acted, and decided on one in particular.  "I wish I was just like 
Mistress Emily, but without any changes to my memory or who I think I 
am, and without gaining any desire to get the operation or anything 
like that.  Just have a personality like hers."

The leprechaun shook his head.  "Why don't mortals ever think these 
things through properly?" he said as he waved his hand and 
disappeared in a shower of light.

************

ONE YEAR LATER...

Lisa sat at her desk in the front of the offices of Doctor Sydney 
Lawrence, a psychiatrist specializing in Gender Identity Disorders. 
She was a temp on her first day and wanted to make a good impression.

The door to the doctor's back room opened, and a tall, sensuous woman 
dressed completely in leather stepped out and walked up to her.  "The 
doctor said I should schedule a one month follow up."

The woman was so dynamic, so forceful, that Lisa was stunned into 
immobility.  Finally, the woman's eyes looked directly at the 
appointment book.  Only her eyes moved, but the woman's presence was 
so powerful that Lisa felt as though she were being commanded and 
quickly took the book and flipped through it.  "Uhm.  How's Wednesday 
the third?"

"The third will be fine."

"Uhm.  Your name?"

"Kylia."

"Kylia...?"

"Just Kylia."

"Uh, okay."

Kylia reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a business card. 
She handed it to Lisa and said, "This is my home address.  Be there 
at 8."

"Uh, I don't think-"

"That's right.  Don't think."  Kylia turned on her heel and left the room.

After she was gone Lisa just stared at the card until the doctor 
asked her, "What's that?"

"A card from your last patient.  She... wants me to show up at her 
house tonight."

"Are you going to go?"

"I...  don't really have an interest in girls."

"But are you going to go?"  After a few seconds of silence, the 
doctor said, "I know.  She's really hard to say no to."

After the doctor walked away, Lisa tucked the card into her purse. 
She didn't plan on going to the woman's house, but, somehow, she 
couldn't bring herself to throw the card away.

As soon as Kylia walked through her front door, her feminized house 
boy-girl took her coat and hung it up.  She sat down and watched 
briefly as her slave went about "his" work, his braless, 
implant-augmented chest bouncing freely under his French maid's 
outfit.  It was one of her guilty pleasures, watching her slave 
jiggle.

Kylia wasn't sure about taking him on as a full time slave when he 
had first proposed it.  She had only been in the domme business for a 
week, and she didn't know whether or not she could afford a slave. 
But the returns had been more than worth it.

She commanded, "Footstool!"  Her slave (Kylia had to give him a name 
soon) quickly got on the floor in front of her and rolled up into a 
ball.  Kylia put her feet on his back and picked up the stack of mail 
that her slave had sorted and placed on the table next to her chair 
as was proper.  As she went through the mail, she said, "Later you'll 
need to go get my prescription for female hormones filled."

Her slave asked, "Will I be allowed to wear a bra?"

"I was going to have you do that, but for being so impertinent for 
asking, I think not."

"Yes, ma'am."

Kylia smiled.  The little boy-girl was trying to sound hurt and 
disappointed, but the pleasure she knew he was experiencing was 
coming through.  He loved being humiliated and being forced to walk 
around where people could see him without a bra to hold up his double 
D's.  "In fact," she continued, "I think you should go in your 
current outfit."

Her slave cooed, "Yes, ma'am," this time not even trying to sound hurt.

"Another thing, I've got a new girl coming tonight.  I may use you in 
her training, so dress in something sexy, but stay in the closet 
until and unless I call for you."

"Yes, ma'am."

The girl Lisa probably thought she wouldn't be coming, but Kylia had 
seen the look on Lisa's face before.  The girl would be drawn to 
Kylia like a moth to a flame.  No matter how much she protested, Lisa 
would eventually call Kylia Mistress.  Of course, the first thing 
Kylia'd have to change was the girl's annoying tendency to "Uhm" and 
"Uh" her way through a conversation.

As Kylia considered what she would do with Lisa that night, she 
noticed, in the mail, the current copy of her favorite Domination 
magazine.  She pulled it out, setting the rest of the mail aside.  On 
the cover was a picture of the woman who "Kyle" had wished to be 
like.  As Kyle, he really hadn't known what he was wishing for, but 
Kylia couldn't really argue with the results.  She was now well off, 
had a personal slave (maybe two if Lisa worked out as well as she 
thought) and NO ONE pushed Kylia around.

So what if it had required Kyle to spend a year living as a woman 
before getting the prescription for the hormones she needed?  She 
could've gotten her hormones the same way she got hormones for her 
slave, but in order to retain the functionality of her dick, she 
needed to make sure her body was monitored by a doctor.

Yes, it would take longer (and probably require implants), but it 
wouldn't be too much longer before Kylia was, physically as well as 
psychologically, just like Mistress Emily, America's Premier She-Male 
Mistress.
-- 
"This is reality, not T.V.  Can't you tell the difference?"
"Sure.  I just like T.V. better."

J R D
jrdss@pobox.alaska.net

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