Message-ID: <43581asstr$1059261003@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <vickietern@aol.com> From: vickietern@aol.com (VickieTern) X-Original-Message-ID: <20030726141900.14497.00000562@mb-m02.aol.com> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: 26 Jul 2003 18:19:00 GMT Subject: {ASSM} Last Summer by Vickie Tern 10b/11 TG femdom wife Date: Sat, 26 Jul 2003 19:10:04 -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/Year2003/43581> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, RuiJorge So I hadn't managed to humiliate him. In his own mind he'd screwed a girl, my best friend, and now he was trying to use the fact that the girl was my husband to get to me. He'd succeeded and he'd failed, and so had I. All in all, in this last competition to fuck each other I'd gained nothing. But at least my sweet girl is no longer a virgin, I was thinking. He now knows what it's like to have a man's dick slipping in and out of his body, and he knows what it's like to clamp down on a hot, thick prick and writhe in one glorious orgasm after another while that prick is pulsing sweet sperm into him. Score one for Scottie, anyhow! I went upstairs, and was surprised to see that Scottie was lying across our bed crying his heart out. That I had not expected. I rushed over and lay down alongside him, frightened to know what could be wrong. For a while I remained quite still, my body trying to embrace his, hugging him. Eventually he turned to face me, and then clutched me as if he were drowning! We lay there quietly some time more, until his breathing was almost normal. "I do love you so much," I said, kissing him softly. He clung to me, no longer my self-assured husband or venturesome best girlfriend, more like a frightened young girl, and he tried to breathe without sobbing. "Wasn't it wonderful, sweetheart? I did want it to be wonderful for you!" "I'm not a man any more," he finally cried out, gasping. Was that it? "There, there dear, I know that," I tried to reassure him. "I know. Hush now. We all lose our cherries sooner or later, baby. Yours was just a little later, that's all. But it's gone now, thank heaven. We can decide some other time what it is you are now." There was a long pause. "No, that isn't it!" he said finally. "I mean, I already know what I am. I'm what you wanted me to be. Your husband and your girlfriend! Little by little I've gotten to like what you wanted me to be. In fact I love it now, the way I feel when I know I'm pretty, and the way other people treat me when they think I'm pretty!" "You are very pretty, sweetheart," I reassured him, hugging him and thinking meanwhile that I had certainly overdone something. I'd let a genie out of the bottle that might never return to it. Would his love of looking pretty die down eventually, the way my passion for Craig had died down and was already a memory, right on schedule? Does any woman's desire to look pretty ever die down? "You'll always be pretty to me! The prettiest man in the whole world!" "I'm not a man," he repeated. "I can't be a man!" "Why not, baby?" "Because I loved it! What kind of man loves getting fucked by someone like Craig? I must be a woman!" Now it was coming clearer. Craig's fucking had seduced me last June into a summer of wanting more, and now it had seduced Scottie out of his own sex and into the other sex! Or out of his heterosexuality? All summer long I couldn't get enough of Craig's cock. Was that how Scottie felt now? After only one screwing? "It was incredible, that penis, and the way he used it! It's way better than your dildo, Mandy! It's so soft yet so rigid, and so warm! And the way his hips swiveled it in and out of me? Now I understand why women love to have sex with men! And that's what terrifies me!" This would take further thinking. First I'd gotten my man to love looking feminine, whether or not reversibly I couldn't say, but now it turns out I've made him cock-crazy. Doreen was right -- I shouldn't have been depriving him. Now I'll need to find other men's cocks for him to keep him happy, and I do want my man to be happy. My sweet man. My sweet girl! I had gone too far, no question! I continued to embrace him, my husband, my partner, my lover, my girlfriend. We found ourselves comforted. Then as we were falling asleep in each other's arms, lying between the fresh sheets Scottie had laid out for his wife and her lover, as I'd requested, he muttered something else to me in his softest, most girlish voice. "Mandy, there's more." "What is it, my sweet Scottie? What?" "After he fucked me, before you walked in and surprised us?" "Yes, honey." "I had an impulse. It was very strange. I wanted to suck his cock. Like with that man in the parking lot? I wanted to hold him in my mouth and taste him. And swallow him, swallow whatever came out of him. He let me hold it in my hand first, and it was so different from mine, even mine when it could still get hard, even though it's about the same size. It was different I think because it belonged to someone who wanted to use it to give me pleasure. I wanted to thank him, to let him know I was grateful. So when he told me to get down on my knees, I thought that's what he was going to ask me to do, to suck on it, and my heart leapt up with joy! Of course what he did next was even better. Way better! He fucked me! And I loved that even more!" A pang shot through me. Yes, I'd gone way too far. It was time to ramp down my affair with Craig and end it, and recover my marriage if I could, and try to recover what was left of my husband. It was already mid-August, and the novelty of my affair had faded anyhow. Another couple of sessions and that would end it. "Now now, darling," I soothed him. "I love it too. Go to sleep now, and we'll see how you feel in the morning." When he was safely asleep, I quietly got up and took his remaining tranquilizer-hormone pills out of the medicine cabinet and put them in a purse at the back of my closet. He'd had enough of those. We were now on our own. In the morning he'd come down from his erotic trance. It isn't an extraordinary thing for a girl to feel enraptured by the first dick ever to enter her, and Scottie was no exception. By morning things looked a little more sensible. He was more like himself. I took down my robe and he slipped into a dainty coverup, and we sat down together at breakfast, and he tried to explain himself. "It isn't that I don't want to be a man any more. It's that I love being a woman. I love the fussing, making myself look beautiful, and feeling beautiful and knowing it. All the different kinds of clothes, and how they feel when I first put them on. How my bras hug me and how my titties feel when they're lifted and enclosed and shaped by them. And when you touch them, even when I touch them, it's paradise. Heaven!" He paused and took a deep breath, then went on. "Mandy, I love them, I can't thank you enough for giving them to me. More than anything else, my breasts make me feel like a natural woman. They complete me, in a way. I can't imagine life without them. They're me. And I want the world to know it. I'll never want to hide them in men's clothes." I looked closely at his chest. He was right. His breasts protruded far out from his chest, and his puffy nipples extended them even further. They didn't want to be hidden. "You couldn't anyhow," I said. "They're far too big for that, even if you didn't need a bra, and you certainly do need one. But you're right, women's clothes do allow for breasts, even celebrate them!" He saw me checking him over and grinned. "My ass is pretty cute too," he added. Then he continued, "There are lots of down sides to living as a woman, but even when I'm feeling down about it there are always the lovely, lovely ways other women accept me as one of their own and want to cheer me up. Women are so very wonderful! You were right a couple of months back when you told me that I didn't understand what it was like, being a woman. But I do now, and I'm terribly tempted to stay this way. And thanks to you I now understand what it's like to be a woman who's been with a man! You're so very good to me, Mandy!" I had to ask it without further delay. "Sweetheart, do you think you'll want to stay married to me? I mean, will you want to find a man to live with instead of me?" I dreaded the possible answer. I didn't want to lose my beautiful Scottie. Yet, I'd brought it on myself. "Sweetheart, when I married you I told you I'd forsake all others, and you told me the same thing, and neither of us specified which sex we'd forsake, so it must mean both. Yes, I'd love to be fucked by other men like Craig. But I'll get over it, the same way I got over wanting to make love with other women after we got married." He paused. "But lately I haven't been able to make love even to you. And you don't seem to have minded!" I tried to look nonchalant, so I sipped my coffee before I replied. "I think we can return your prick to active duty now, honey. That's a small side effect of those pills I've been giving you so you wouldn't mind living your life these past months. One of the side effects." I decided not to mention his nipples -- better to leave well-enough alone. "Obviously you no longer need pills to help you accept life as a woman." He smiled his old smile. "No, I don't suppose so." He hesitated, then went on. "Mandy, just sitting and chatting with you each morning while we each put on our faces for the day and help choose each other's outfits, that's the kind of thing I don't want to give up. I don't want to, but I could, if I returned to being a man. I'm fine as a man. But even as a man, could I be a woman with you now and then anyhow? Dress and primp and then sort of go out together, just the two of us? Find some men and have a fling with them just for the night, nothing lasting, enjoy being women with men and then be ourselves again? The kind of thing Mort and Cheryl do? That wouldn't violate our marriage vows, not if we did it together. Not if each time we took a night out it was a gift we gave each other. Would it?" He was so sweet! That's what I should have done when that grand passion for Craig first overwhelmed me! Asked him for permission! Told him about it! Invited him to join me! Maybe asked Craig to bring him a friend as well as one for Cheryl? No, I'm daydreaming, I realized. I couldn't really have fixed him up with Craig's friends back then. He was still a man back then. What a terrible shame. How can I tell him that I've been secretly fucking Craig! He'd feel I've been dishonest, because I have been dishonest. Craig will always have to be my secret. Still, now he's a woman who wants to share a life with me as a woman! Tears came into my eyes. "I think that would be just lovely," I said, trying to control the tremor in my voice and failing. "That's such a beautiful idea, if you were to remain a woman, that now and then we'd go out and find ourselves some men and get ourselves fucked by them!" Scottie reached over and took both my hands in his. "I love you, Mandy. I'll finish the summer the way I promised. And I want to finish my book about it. Would it be too much to ask you to write up your version, so I can incorporate it?" No way did I want him to know my version, about my private reasons for forcing him into femininity, about my obsession with fucking Craig and trying to fuck Craig over, and my obsession with fucking up my husband so I'd feel less guilty about what I'd already done to him. So all I said was, "Honey, I've been reading your journal entries. I assume you want me to read them, because you left them open on your desk, and sometimes you left them all over the house." He looked at me mildly. "You've forgotten, Mandy. I keep different kinds of journals when I'm on a project. What you read was only a day book where I enter where I've been and what I've done with people I mostly don't know. Nothing much private. But I've kept other journals that track where I'm at and what I'm working through, describe the tunnels I've been digging with no light at the end but sometimes a twist and a gleam. My book is writing itself out of those journals. It reads more like a private diary than a chronology of events, so I'm letting it come out that way. It's about what the whole summer has been, not just what being a woman is like, though that's the central focus of course. You'll see. Just wait." So I waited. Not for long. end 10b/11 VickieTern@AOL.COM -- 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> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+