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Message-ID: <44958asstr$1066957806@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: vickietern@aol.com (VickieTern)
Subject: {ASSM} Shy by Vickie Tern 5/6 TG Femdom
Date: Thu, 23 Oct 2003 21:10:06 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Shy by Vickie Tern TG Femdom 5/6

Don't read this if you shouldn't or you don't want to.  Do if you
do.  I'd appreciate knowing what you think (VickieTern@aol.com).







                              v.

Don looked at her mournfully.  Did he hear the mockery somewhere in
her comment?  Did he think it was envy?  He seemed about to tie
himself into an embarrassed knots and deny that he'd ever sucked a
cock.  Maybe even start to cry.  I was bracing myself to stand and
end the session when behind me I heard Gail's voice suddenly speak
up.  Gail is my best friend at Webster.

"Are you free a week from Saturday, Dawn?" she asked.

I turned to look at her.  Well-groomed as always, clear-eyed,
clear-skinned, her blonde hair pulled back flawlessly and held with
a scrunchy, and though it was only breakfast time as always wearing
light make-up.  Looking directly at Dawn.  I cocked an eyebrow at
her, and as usual she saw my query without seeming to.  'Don't
worry' came at me from her slight change of expression, maybe of
her posture, while her mouth never moved.  I don't know, that was
how we always communicated.  So I sat silent.

Don just looked at this new face, so guileless and capable.  "Free
next Saturday?"  he asked.  She seemed to be asking him for a date. 
He was flustered.  He glanced at me, and I tried to look
reassuring.   Gail always knew what she was doing.  He nodded.

"Wonderful!  There's this person my boyfriend knows, part of his
old high school gang, coming to visit us here that weekend.  I'm
trying to fix up a foursome for the Grunge Dawg concert and maybe
some pub crawling afterward, but everyone I know is already booked. 
I know it's not much notice, but maybe you can join us?"

He looked at me again, baffled this time, his eyes desperate to
find a way out that wouldn't blow his cover.  This girl was asking
him to double date.  With a guy?  But maybe she meant a girl?  Was
he trapped?

I realized what Gail was doing.  Helping.  I felt grateful.  But
also envious -- all the Grunge Dawg tickets had sold out in about
an hour while I happened to be in class.  Wasting my time in class
when something important like that was happening!  Still, Gail was
being a friend.  I nodded reassurance at Don.

"OK," Don said weakly.

"Marvelous," Gail said.  "I'll let you know the when and where and
all that later.  You'll like him."

So the friend was a him.  Don's face seemed to stiffen.

"Wear whatever you like!  I'll be dressing down but real heavy on
the eye make-up, so you might want to do the same.  You know, nice
girl down below and slut up top, that gets them.  Though the other
way around does it too I've noticed."  She grinned at Don, then at
me.  "Bye now!"  She headed out toward the elevators.

We all stood up.  Breakfast was over.  

Gail was waiting for me in the corridor as I figured, and we hung
back while Sally and Don went to wait for the elevator back up to
our suite.  

"Gail, when your boyfriend's friend reaches into Dawn's pants he
won't be happy," I said quietly.  "He might want to kill the poor
dear!  And I'll be responsible.  Whatever did you have in mind?"

She grinned.  "No problem, Jen.  This old high school friend is
gay, and deep in the closet.  Name of 'Marty.'  He's at State U,
captain of their football team same as my guy is here, and the
girls all want him same as they all want my guy.  But he's gay!  He
tells lots of girls that he's being true to a girl he left behind
back home.  And there's a closeted lesbian cheerleader he sometimes
dates -- they cover for each other.  But he's got to maintain
appearances.  Just think what the other players would do to him if
they knew.  Especially the players on opposing teams.  I mean,
you've seen how they slap each other's asses.  If they knew he
liked getting his ass slapped?  They'd trample him into the ground,
the poor faggot!  So Marty doesn't have much of a sex life.  The
poor guy's lonely, except now and then he visits a gay bar a
hundred miles away to get his rocks off."  

I nodded, relieved.  A little.

"That's what he was hoping for here.  That his old high school
buddy could fix him up during this visit.  So my guy asked me to
help out.  It's tricky.  I didn't know exactly who to set him up
with.  If he went to a big concert like Grunge Dawg with another
queer the word would get back and he'd be outed for sure!  A Big
Ten football captain who's been in the national newspapers, go to
a rave with a guy?  The Gay and Lesbian Alliance at State would
instantly claim him as one of their own, and then all the
homophobes on his own team would kick his ass bloody!  Yet, going
to Grunge Dawg with an ordinary girl wouldn't be any fun for either
of them!  You know, it's Saturday night, after all!  So Dawn is
perfect!  Marty'll love her!  Dawn swallows?  Already?  Is that
really true?"

"We'll do our best to get Dawn ready," was all I replied.  "But
Gail, shouldn't I be close by Dawn in case he panics?  She, I mean? 
This will be her first date, and all."  

"You?  Not Sally?"  Gail always knew everything!

"He thinks Sally's his fiancee," I said.  "Once you sleep with a
girl you're engaged to her, he thinks.  So he wouldn't want her to
be there the very first time he dates someone else and ends up
unfaithful.  Even though that someone else is a man, so it would be
more like being unfaithful to Sally's dildo than to Sally.  If you
can get me two tickets, I'll find someone I can go with."  Gail was
on the concert committee, I knew that.  I also knew that sold out
or not, with hot tickets like those the required complimentary pair
for the Dean of Students often never arrived at the Dean's office. 
And that the Dean never noticed because he never used them anyhow.

"That's fair," Gail agreed.  "But think of it this way too.  After
Saturday Dawn might find she's in love.  Then she'll have to break
her engagement.  I've seen this State U. football captain.  I'd be
in love with him myself if he were at all interested in my kind. 
He's beautiful!  And I hear he's fabulously hung!"

"So is Dawn," I said.  Should I begin believing in fate?  Was the
gay coupling of the century taking shape?

"My God!" was all Gail replied, as the same thought struck her too. 
Maybe we're both the instruments of some Divine Master Plan to help
well-hung queers find each other and live happily ever after? 
True, Dawn wasn't yet queer.  He liked girls, Sally anyhow.  But we
were well on the way to fixing that.  "Well, let me know if there's
anything else I can do," Gail said, and she scurried off. 

I quickly told Sally what I'd just learned.  Then as the elevator
rose toward our suite, I looked at her inquiringly.  She was
thinking this new development through too.  'No problem' she
finally looked back at me.  She seemed in fact elated by the
challenge of readying Dawn for a heavy date with a man, dressed
down but with heavy slut make-up, getting him ready and willing to
suck and fuck a huge cock and have the favor returned.  And all in
only a little more than a week!  

Don just stood there next to her, our innocent, still holding his
robe together, his boobs in their red brassiere still thrust way
out and visible.  He was obviously worried about this impending
Saturday date as a supposed girl.  Or maybe the implications hadn't
sunk in yet?  Yet he was also feeling exhilarated.  He'd survived
his first outing as an honorary girl.  His disguise had worked,
everyone thought he was the real thing, he thought.  He'd talked to
more girls in the past hour than in his whole lifetime previously,
and he'd forgotten to stutter!  So now he could spend practically
the whole semester sleeping with Sally and playing lickety split
with her every night.  Just for pretending to be a girl so no one
would notice.

Like I said, clueless.

As soon as I was alone with Don in my room, I grabbed him by the
shoulders and stared directly into his eyes.  "You know you've got
to be a girl full time now, right Dawn?  And nothing but!  Isn't
that right?"

"I guess, Jen," he replied in his boy voice, a little worried.  "I
didn't expect anything like this.  Are you sure there isn't some
other way?"

"No other way, sweetie.  So put on that other voice of yours and
use it from now on.  You're a girl.  Enjoy it.  You've got a lot to
learn by a week from Saturday, and you did agree to it, all of it,
didn't you?"  

I waited.  He couldn't quite recall when he'd agreed to be a girl
going on a date with a guy, it'd been cumulative.  But he'd gone
along with everything, so he finally answered, "Yeah, I guess so."

"You guess so?"

"I mean, yes, I agreed to do all this!"

"Yes, you did.  So whatever it takes, we do it.  We better get
going.  Just trust me."

"All right," Dawn's voice said.  "Whatever you say, Jennifer.  I
guess that Saturday won't be so bad.  It's Grunge Dawg, after all. 
And I mean, your friend seems nice, so maybe her friend will be
too."  

My friend isn't your problem, I was thinking.  But now we've got to
get going.  The pace picks up.  The sun will not set tonight on
Dawn's unpierced ears.  And this very afternoon we shop.  But right
now we go get the student ID that will make him officially a her,
certify that there is no Don at Webster College, only Dawn, now and
forever more.  Everyone wears jeans for their photo ID, it's only
a head and shoulder shot after all.  But my Dawn will wear
stockings and heels and a skirt -- he's got to be all girl when the
Registrar's flunkies see him, no ambiguity.  In fact he's got to be
all girl from now on, until there's no way he can be anything else.
Or want to be.  

This is turning out to be so easy!  

"Your hair's very pretty, curly like that.  But is that how you
mean to wear it?" I asked him.

"Loose?" he replied.  "Like this?  Yeh.  I could.  My step mom
makes me put a rubber band on it for a ponytail, but now I'm in
college I can do what I like.  I like it loose.  Though I didn't
count on it being so curled and crimped like this."

"We can do lots of things with it now.  So it'll keep its shape. 
Let me show you a nice style, and how to set it so it's always up
out of the way when you and Sally want to play that game ... what
do you call it, kissy pussy?"

"Lickety split," Don said.  

"Then each morning when you take it down and brush it out, you
won't ever need to tie it back.  No barrettes or ribbons, though
you can suit yourself on that.  Just a few bobby pins."

"Bobby pins?  Don't girls use those things?" Don asked, a little
concerned.

"Yes, and boys who pretend to be girls use them too!" I answered
sternly.  "Honorary girls use them!  Don't worry about it, worry
about Sally's Dad!  More, worry about our dorm adviser!  Most of
all, you better worry about this date you made for next Saturday,
and get ready to do everything you committed yourself to do!"  Don
didn't yet know that today was the first day of the rest of his
life and the last day of his life as a man, or anyhow a boy who
wasn't much of a man.  He still thought this was sort of temporary,
an accommodation, a way to get at what girls have got, at Sally's
in particular, so he was holding back.  "The more girlie you are,
the safer you'll be.  Be glad I'm helping you!"  

Lie down and spread your legs, I nearly added.  Your manhood, or
whatever you call whatever you've been, is about to get fucked up
beyond recognition!  By the end of this semester you'll be filling
that bra with your own tits, and Sally's already turned your
asshole into a two way street!

So we spent the next hour rolling his hair up, tight curls in front
and a soft fall created with large rollers behind, and finally a
swatch of hair pinned up and back over each ear with bobby pins to
hold them both in place.  I did it once for him, then he did it a
few times for himself -- I told him that this was his life every
night from now on whether he was sleeping between Sally's legs or
not.  The last time we put setting gel on each strand and
blow-dried everything, then took it all down off the rollers and
clips.

He was amazed that this time the curls in front stayed springy, and
that his hair in back was once again straight, or anyhow curved,
not crimped.  I showed him how to comb it out, and there he was! 
There was Dawn, I mean!  He really looked darling!  Fabulous in
fact!  I just had to kiss him!  Girl to girl, though he looked
embarrassed, as if he weren't now a girl.

"Now no one will ever recognize you," I told him.  "Now we'll touch
up your face and we're ready, nearly."  It was true.  This dumb boy
was pretty!  He didn't really need make-up to look like a girl,
though there was no way I was going to let him take his ID photo
bare faced.  The bright lights would wash out his features, maybe
blur his new gender, and androgynous wasn't the look we wanted.  We
wanted "girl"!

He looked apprehensive yet again when I hauled out my make-up kit. 
"Dawn!"  I said in a warning tone.  "What do you need to look like
now, to stay here with us?  Until it's as natural to you as
breathing, until you make yourself look like one without giving it
a second thought?  Because that's what you are!  Mostly."

"A girl!"  he said uneasily.  "I know what you mean.  But I saw
downstairs, Jen.  Most of the girls here don't wear make-up." 
Again, he was showing just enough resistance to satisfy his manhood
that he was asserting himself.  "Except maybe when they want to
look fancy!"

"Most of the girls here are girls," I pointed out.  "There's no
chance they'll ever be mistaken for anything else!"  There was no
chance Don would be mistaken for anything else either, not with
that hairdo, and he was still wearing his bulging red bra?  But he
didn't know that.  "We have nothing to prove.  But you do.  You
want some boy to guess you're a boy, a boy who likes to look like
a girl?  Suppose your ex-roommate saw you.  The hulk?  Suppose he
called in his friends to teach you a lesson?  Guys like him don't
have a lot of respect for sissy faggots.  Do you want that?  Are
you a sissy faggot?"  

"No," he said solemnly.  

Not yet, but don't worry, I was thinking.  The Grunge Dawg concert
will fix that.  "You're going to get your picture taken this
morning, so you need a little make-up," I said firmly.  Then
reassuringly, "Hardly enough to notice.  Just so you'll look
unmistakably feminine.  Skin, eyes, mouth, that's all.  I'll show
you.  It'll get to be a routine, the whole thing shouldn't take you
more than twenty minutes each morning when you've got it down, and
then you'll be set for the day.  With touch-ups of course.  Days
you spend in class you can get away with just eye liner and
mascara, and a little lipstick maybe.  But for Grunge Dawg we go
all out, and that'll take way more time than you think.  Sit!"

He did.  Without waiting for an answer I started spreading one of
Maureen's a peach-colored foundations over his entire face, talking
the whole time.  "This covers blemishes, so your complexion will
look perfect, the way a girl's should.  Then dust a little powder
on it to set it.  See?  Now we need to brush a little blush on too,
to pink it like real skin, and maybe a little extra on your cheeks
to give you a kind of embarrassed flush, that's very appealing,
guys think they're giving us naughty thoughts when we seem to be
blushing, so they get hopeful.  With blusher you always look hot." 
As I said it, I did it.  "This much you'll usually do while your
hair is still rolled up," I added.  "So your face is clear of hair
-- a perfect painter's palette."

I've got to say, as I blended his eye liner and two shades of
shadow, and stroked on his mascara and lip color, I had to admit
it, when I was done Don did look hot.  I was creating a monster! 
I loved it!  So much so that when I was done and he looked perfect,
I surprised myself!  It was just like when I was a little girl
playing with my Barbies.  I couldn't resist!  I bent over and
kissed him again, careful not to smudge of course.

"Perfect!" I repeated.  What was wrong with me?  He looked
appreciatively back, having taken it as a sisterly kiss.  "Here,"
I said a little more roughly than usual, handing him two more
morning birth control pills.  "We all take these.  Every day. 
They'll help you fit in better."  Into bras, not pussies, I said to
myself.  "If you want to live here with us, you have to fit in."  

He didn't ask what they were.  He just took them with a swallow of
the water I'd left on my night stand, and then daintily blotted his
lips in order not to smear his lipstick.  He was catching on. 
"Don't you want to know what they're for?" I asked him.

"Sally already told me.  When I took the two she gave me before
breakfast, when we first woke up.  They're for pregnancy.  So I
won't make her pregnant, I guess.  Also for smoother skin.  Girls
like smooth skin."

True enough, I thought.  But let's see, that's about a week's worth
of heavy-duty hormones Dawn's swallowed since last night.  That's
quite a kick start!  She has more girl in her veins right now than
I do!  "If you start feeling queasy, let me know," I said.  "These
things hit different people different ways."

Dawn nodded silently.  His eyes did begin to look a little glazed
over.   Maybe he was already feeling zonked by his new body
chemistry?  No matter, it made things easier.  I showed him how we
roll up pantyhose and then unroll them on our legs, and when he'd
done it successfully I handed him a bright red blouse with a deep
vee neckline, just deep enough to expose the lacy top of his red
bra when he leaned forward.  And a long black skirt -- time enough
later for a mini, when I'd taught him how girls need to move their
rears when they're wearing minis, either prim or swish, hide your
cheeks or expose everything, but nothing in between.  When I
realized that none of us had heels that fit him, I hauled out a
pair of backless black strappy sandals.  My favorites.  I knew he'd
stretch and ruin them, but Mom did tell me I'd need to make small
sacrifices, so what could I do?  "These are yours now," I told him. 
He studied them solemnly and then buckled them on.  And still
zonked, he hobbled out of our suite into the elevator.  A few girls
passing by looked admiringly at him and then at me, and grinned. 
I smiled back.  Not too bad, if I did say so myself!

When we got to the gym I suggested that he make his pose livelier
by standing sideways and looking at the camera over his shoulder. 
He didn't know that pose would give him a feminine "come hither"
look for all college ID purposes, and at the same time expose his
breasts in maximum come-hither silhouette.  The girl at the desk
glanced up at him, and I realized she'd been one of those who'd
just seen him at breakfast.  She looked him over with admiration
and disbelief, and then at me with a gleam of curiosity and
amusement.  Would she make a problem out of it?  She asked for his
last name, and then she brought his page up on the computer.  

"Dawn?" she queried, looking up at him.  

"Don," he replied.

"That's what it says here too," she declared.  "'Dawn'!  OK, 
Whatever.  Who am I to question the school's records?"  With a
quick look at me she handed him a printout ID card to give to the
photographer, so his photo could be laminated on it.  I glanced at
it.  Sure enough, the "F" was checked off, not the "M".   Elvira
had already gotten into the college mainframe and changed Dawn's
name.  And that handled the problem of his College records!  

He'd was a girl now.  In all of his classes, that's what the
professors would see on their records no matter what he looked
like. That's how the Freshman Handbook would show him.   He'd get
all the junk mail girl solicitations for teams and sororities and
sanitary napkins and cosmetics and so on from now on, not the boy
solicitations for razor blades and beer blasts.  Now the whole
world would conspire to keep him a girl!  

When the photographer called out "Smile, Dawn!" I saw that as I'd
instructed him, he was peering fetchingly over his own shoulder at
the camera, his dark-outlined eyes wide and innocent, his hair
curling over his brow and falling fetchingly behind him, his parted
lips as red as his blouse, and a curved glimpse of bra visible
beneath.  He'd never escape now!  His own naivete was in on the
conspiracy!  

I delivered him back to the dorm into Sally's arms.  She'd agreed
to take him shopping for his own clothes that very day, and get his
ears pierced and his nails done properly, and to teach him a few
essential girly moves, stuff like that.  Even to sit with him
through his first lectures, and introduce him around as 'Dawn' so
no one would dream he wasn't, and get him used to the way people
treat girls.  She'd tend to stuff like that while I got back to
living my life.  

She did it all, too.  He came back late afternoon still with a
dazed look on his face and packages filling his arms, lingerie and
skirts and blouses, and special hip-hugger jeans and a spandex
glitter cut-off T-shirt earmarked for his big Saturday night with
Marty.  Each of his ear lobes gleamed gold.  If he had any doubts
about what was happening to him, he lost them that night, another
blissful night spent sprawled inside Sally's room and bed and
crotch.  

The next morning when Dawn showed up in the lounge for coffee and
to kiss our cunts good morning he was wearing a fetching peignoir
and just the right amount of eye and lip color, and his hairdo was
already brushed out.  He was lovely.  More to the point, he was no
longer awkward with us, rather, he was relaxed and comfortable,
charmingly modest but not at all shy, even while chatting with two
girls who dropped in on us from a neighboring suite, who'd heard
what we were doing and didn't believe it.  He was feeling accepted,
I guess.  And that was all he'd ever needed, I realized!  Too bad
no one had ever accepted him as a boy before his mother and my
mother gave him to me to fix for good.  He might have made a
halfway decent boy I suppose, once.  But now?

I did notice he was walking a bit stiffly, and I guessed --
correctly, it turned out -- that this second night Sally had
graduated him to Elvira's monster dildo.  "First he sucked all the
cum-flavored Gatorade out of its balls -- it was gone well before
midnight," she told me, a little amazed.  "What a mouth!  Tonight
I'll collect some real semen from our stud stable to use for
refills -- I'll use our race-horse scenario, the first guy to fill
three condoms gets to do the last guy to fill three if he can still
get stiff enough.  But I didn't have any semen, so I had to make
do.  What I did, I filled the thing with heated hair conditioner --
it looks and feels about the same, slick and cloudy -- and then I
fucked his ass with it three times.  Whenever I climaxed I squirted
heated creamy conditioner into him, and each time he climaxed! 
Each time!  He felt those hot spurts and he climaxed!  Can you
imagine?  Amazing!  He was born to be fucked!"

"Doggy style or facing you?" I asked, wondering if her perfumed
hair hanging over his face had something to do with it.  Was Dawn
a natural-born poet? 

"Both," she replied.  "And I'm letting him do me too with that
great prick of his, only up the ass of course, just in case his
partner likes getting fucked too.  We're on a tight deadline after
all -- I mean, he's got only a week to get ready for that Grunge
Dawg date with that football team guy Gail lined up, that Marty
somebody.  And we don't know if Marty likes his guys facing him or
on their knees when he fucks them.  Or if Marty would rather be the
one on his back or his knees.  Any which way we need to get Dawn
completely cock-broken fast."

"I know," I said.  "I hope my mother and my aunt will appreciate
what we're doing.  What we're going through."

"They'll never guess how much sacrifice is involved," Sally added. 
"That cock of Dawn's is a monster!  A tree trunk when it's filled
and rigid!  It stretches standard-size condoms almost to bursting.
It stretches even me!  And the amount of semen he squirts when he
comes?  Oceans!  Cleaning me out and then dribbling it all back
into him takes forever!  I know I should deny myself that prick for
the next week so I can concentrate on the job ahead, turn Dawn
around so her own asshole becomes her main attraction.  But what
can I do?  That Marty is in for a real treat if he asks Dawn to
give as good as he gets!"

"It's a real shame his cock may not be functioning at all in
another few months," I replied.  "But the first thing a girl needs
is breasts, and only afterward does she look around for cock.  You
know though, it's great how our plan is working.  He's not the
least bit shy with us any more.  He's like a different person."   
 

"He is a different person," Sally said, grinning.  "He's now a girl
on the pill and on birth control patches too -- the Health Service
gave them to him with no questioned asked after he flashed his ID
at them.  So he's on both.  Did you know he woke up feeling
nauseous this morning?  He's already getting morning sickness.  I
explained he'll get over it in a few days.  Also his nipples are
already getting tender and there are lumps behind them.  I
explained that he won't be getting over that in a hurry, but it was
a good thing, they'd give him a lot of pleasure when they got the
way they should be, pendulous.  He liked that idea, and he asked me
what "pendulous" means.  I told him 'well-hung' and he was
satisfied."

Well, that is what the word means!


end Shy 5/6

VickieTern@AOL.COM

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