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It really wasn’t my fault. My wife had forced the situation on us. Despite
knowing that neither of us knew the streets of Chicago, she insisted that
we get a rental car instead of a taxi. So why do I get the blame and have
to feel ashamed?
My wife wasn’t always so mean or domineering. We were, at one time,
close friends and partners. My ideas and her ability brought us together in
a business partnership. We opened a startup computer software company
together. After the initial struggle, we were able to get venture money and
had some modest success. That’s modest for venture capital standards,
which meant that we did well financially.
The long hours at work brought us together romantically. We didn’t have
any time to meet anyone outside of work and the shared success at work
and mutual respect for each other’s contributions, translated into mutual
joy and affection for each other. When we married, our company was at
its peek.
But the problem with being an idea guy is that good ideas run out
eventually. As my meaningful contributions to the company diminished
so did Janet’s respect and affection for me. Her attitude and behavior
slowly but continuously changed until she no longer looked or treated me
like an equal. At the office, she often bossed me around, sometimes even
making me run errands for her. In our personal life, she was even worse.
She made all the decisions without even consulting me. During our
limited free time, she recently chose to spend her time without me. It was
getting so bad that I rarely slept with her anymore.
So by the time we were in Chicago for the Application Service Provider
Conference, it was understood that she would make all the decisions for
us. I should have spoken up more. No man should be treated like this. I
knew better. Taking a taxi was far safer.
I tried to explain to her about possibility and danger of getting lost in a
city like Chicago. After she dismissed my concerns for safety, we got the
rental car.
A few wrong turns, and we were lost in a bad neighborhood. I wanted to
retrace our track and go back to the safety of the airport. But she insisted
in trying to find our hotel. Soon we got hopelessly lost.
When I thought things couldn’t get any worse, the rental car broke down.
Unfortunately, I knew very little about cars. Janet and I stared at the
engine as if that would solve the problem. It was getting dark and we
were stranded in a bad neighborhood.
Out of desperation, we began to walk, hoping to find a phone and a
relatively safe place. But our hopes for safety were dashed when three
young men that could be best described as gang members walked towards
us in a menacing manner. As they approached, one of them started yelling
threats at us. “You will be sorry for coming into our place.”
In a panic, I ran to the other direction. I assumed that Janet was running
right behind me. In hindsight, I should of checked. But fear consumed
me more than any concerns for Janet. I just ran and ran and Janet didn’t
even cross my mind.
Fortunately for me, I eventually ran into a large well-lit street with several
restaurants and other businesses. . As the fear for my life diminished,
another fear struck me. Janet was nowhere to be seen. I briefly
entertained the idea of trying to go back to where I left Janet but quickly
dismissed the idea. There was nothing I could do even if I could
successfully retrace my steps. And there was no guarantee that I would be
able to retrace my steps or find Janet. It was better for me to call the
police and ask them to help.
I entered the closest restaurant and used their phone to call the police. The
officer on the phone did not even try to hide his contempt for me for
leaving Janet in danger. I tried to explain that it wasn’t my fault. That the
odds of me being able to help Janet, had I stayed, were non-existent. I
kept repeating “there were three of them.” But he would not entertain my
excuses. “You ran and left your wife in danger?” he said, “what kind of
man are you?”
After I told the officer, as best as I could, the location where I left Janet, I
hung up the phone. I didn’t need to hear him talking about my duties as a
man.
A few minutes later, I was able to get a taxi and it took me to our hotel. I
had some hope that Janet ran in another direction and was able to return to
our hotel safely as well. But Janet didn’t come.
I waited and waited, lying awake all night. Then, almost ten hours after I
left Janet in the slum, our hotel room door swung open with a v******e
that made me jump to my feet. Janet stormed into the room and quickly
slapped me across my face before I could even react to her presence.
“You, pussy!!!!” she yelled. “Do you know what they did to me after you
ran away!!!”
Thoughts of **** sprung to my mind. But I remained silent not knowing
what to say. Although, she didn’t have any apparent injuries, she looked
like she came out from hell. Her hair and clothing were all messed up and
her purse was missing.
“They made me give them blowjobs,” She spat. “Because you ran away,
you fucking pussy, I had to!!!” she continued, “how dare you even come
to my hotel room.”
“I…” I answered, “I was hoping to find you here and was just waiting… I
called the police… did they save you?”
She slapped me again. “How could you leave me there all alone?”
“I was scared, but I didn’t mean to leave you,” I said, “I assumed that you
were running right behind me.” I began to cry, partially in shame and
partially because her words hurt me.
“GET OUT, PUSSY!!!” she yelled, “GET OUT OF MY LIFE!”
I quickly gathered my belongings and was about to leave then turned to
ask, “what about our company?”
Her face showed an intense anger that I never saw before. She grabbed
me by my shirt and said, “You dare to ask that?” She paused and closed
her eyes in an attempt to control her anger, and then said, “I expect you to
sign over everything to me as soon as possible, then just disappear.”
All the hard work and long hours wasted. A future without my company
flashed before my eyes. I had no bright ideas left. Everything I had went
into my company. I never graduated from college, no real skills, what
could I do without my company?
If I refused to sign over the company, she would file for a divorce. A jury
would surely award everything to her once they find out that I left her in
danger. Sensing that it was hopeless, I dropped to my knees and did the
only thing left to do, beg. “Please, Janet, forgive me,” I said, “I will do
anything.”
She looked at me very carefully and said, “anything?”
“Anything,” I said sensing some hope, “anything you want.”
She looked me directly in my eyes and said, “A pussy like you should
dress, act and look more appropriately, panties and bras, and skirts and
dresses.”
“You mean pretend that I a woman?” I asked not believing her words.
“One year,” she said. “One year, that’s all I want.”
On hindsight I should have refused her offer. But it was for one year and I
would still get to keep part ownership of the company. My main concern
was to prevent her from doing anything permanent in that one year. “It’s
just dress up right?” I said, “ I get to keep my balls and dick, right?”
She said her next words very slowly as if talking to a small c***d, “I give
you my promise that you get to keep your precious balls and dick. In
return you must do everything I tell you to do for one year.”
Not knowing what else to do, I agreed to endure the humiliation of
dressing like a woman for one year.
That evening Janet plucked my eyebrows and removed my body hair with
a cream. I practiced wearing makeup and walking in high heels. That
night I even wore a nightgown to bed.
The next morning, we didn’t attend the conference. Instead we went
shopping. It was mortifying going into women’s dressing room to try on
various women’s clothing. Everyone was staring at me. After spending
an entire day at the mall, I was glad to be back in our hotel room. Janet
made me wear a dress for the rest of day. I practiced wearing makeup and
talking in a feminine voice. I don’t know how I survived that weekend.
On several occasions, I almost gave up my ownership of my company and
left. But I know that’s what Janet wanted and decided to stick with it no
matter what.
I thought that weekend was as bad as it got, but soon found out when we
arrived back in our town that the worst was still to come. My wife made
me go to work dressed as a girl. I meekly walked in to my office behind
my wife. As she lead me to the conference room in the center of our
office, all activity stopped and people started to whisper. My wife told
one of our receptionists to inform everyone that there would be meeting
right away. In the meeting, Janet told everyone what happened in Chicago
and explained that as penalty, I was going to be a secretary for the
company for one year. It was embarrassing enough when strangers saw
me dressed as a girl. I almost died in the conference room as the people I
knew stared at me to see my reaction. I stood there silently, meekly
holding my head down. My wife told everyone that my name was Puss.
My face turned red at this revelation but remained silent. I had to endure
this shame in order keep ownership of my company. Some people openly
gasped and others laughed at predicament. But no one offered any help.
I spent most of that day filing and typing. Individuals stopping by to
comment on my predicament, to ask questions, or give me assignments,
were the only interruptions to my secretarial duties. At first, people had a
difficult time calling me Puss but eventually everyone got used to it.
That evening Janet produced a Power of Attorney appointing her with full
authority over the company and personal belongings. I only signed it after
I read the part that stated it was revocable after one year.
Janet also introduced female hormones to me that night. When I showed
resistance, she reminded me of my promise and assured me that the effects
of the hormones were reversible. I took my first of many pills that night.
I went to work the next day without much commotion. Everyone just did
his or her work and ignored me most of the time. At home, I continued
my lessons in acting and looking like a girl. Within a few weeks,
everyone just started to treat me like a normal female secretary. Perhaps
Janet convinced everyone to act normal or perhaps they just began to think
me as a girl.
During the next several months, I grew out my hair and perfected my
feminine look. Hormones helped allot, giving me breasts, soft behind, and
rounded features. Of course, the hours of practice acting feminine in the
evenings also helped. In addition all the beauty treatments I received
made me look like a beautiful girl.
No one saw me as a guy in a dress any more. The only people that stared
at me when Janet and I went out were horny guys. I always looked away
as soon as I noticed a guy staring. Janet often teased me with the prospect
of double dating. I counted my blessings that she never pushed it. I
guessed that men didn’t turn her on anymore ever since the Chicago
incident.
Soon I looked like a girl even naked. Except for my shriveled up dick and
balls, there was nothing to indicate I was a guy. Time passed slowly and
at times my embarrassment was almost unbearable. But I resolved to go
through with this degrading experience to get my share of the company.
After nine months of my feminine life, Janet surprised me when she took
me to a courthouse. As soon as I noticed where we were, I was certain
that she was going to divorce me after all. If any of the jury members
didn’t hate me for leaving my wife in danger than they had the cross
dressing as another reason to hate me. I thought that my wife had fooled
me into making sure she got everything.
But I was surprised again when my wife explained that I was there to
officially change my name to Puss. She had prepared one more
humiliation to test my resolve. Janet probably hoped that I would quit. I
wouldn’t give her the satisfaction not after all that I’d been through.
I had to convince the Judge that I wanted the name change. Janet coached
me to say that my nickname was Puss and that’s what I wanted to be
called. Under Janet’s instructions, I explained to the Judge that I was a
transsexual awaiting my surgery. I hated saying these lies but I had to do
it to stay on Janet’s good side. The Judge was a liberal and was willing to
listen to a request of a transsexual. He suggested that I change my name
to a more conventional female name. But I insisted. The Judge asked a
few more questions as to my criminal record and whether I had any
outstanding debts than signed the order changing my name to Puss.
As soon as we got in the car, dread overwhelmed me and I started to cry.
The situation with the Judge was too much. The weight of my name
change also consumed me with grief. Janet gave me what I thought was a
comforting hug, until I felt a needle penetrate my arm. I looked at her
with a puzzled look and then I passed out.
I drifted in and out of consciousness. But the moments I was awake were
brief and I always felt hazy as if in a dream. I remember seeing Doctors
and nurses. Something was being done to me but I couldn’t tell what. I
tried to ask questions but lacked the strength to do it. The next time my
head was clear, I found myself with Janet in a rental car in Chicago.
“What’s going on?” I ask alarmed. “What are we doing in Chi…”
“You’ve been in a private clinic for the last three months,” Janet said.
“Today is our last day.”
“You mean it’s been one year,” I asked “and I can stop pretending to be a
girl?”
“Yes,” she said, “you can stop pretending to be a girl because you are a
girl.”
“WHAT?,” I asked, panic and disbelief feeling my mind.
“Check between your legs.” She said.
I carefully and slowly lifted my skirt and pulled down my panties and
nearly passed out at finding a pussy.
“A pussy for a pussy,” Janet said laughing.
“But, but,” I said, “You promised, you promised to let me keep my dick
and balls.”
“I kept my promise,” she said, “the essence of your balls are in your
earrings.”
I took out my mirror from my purse and saw that I was wearing a pair of
small round shaped earrings. I began to cry, “What about my dick?”
“We put what was left of your penis, after the doctor made your pussy,
inside your necklace.” Janet said.
I saw a necklace with the centerpiece shaped as small penis. “You see
you got to keep your precious balls and dick.” “If you ask me, they never
looked better.”
I couldn’t stop the tears as they flowed from my eyes. “What about my
company?”
“You have no company,” she said, “you remember the power of attorney.”
“But it was revocable,” I said.
“Yes, you can revoke it tomorrow,” she said, “Unfortunately I’ve
transferred title to your shares of the company and everything else to me a
long time ago. So you don’t own anything. The power of attorney is
useless now.”
She stopped the rental car at a familiar place. But it took me a while to
figure out where I was. It was the very spot where our rental car broke
down last year.
Janet instructed me to follow her out of the car. I began to fear for my life
and begged her to drive away from this place. But she ignored my pleas
and pushed me out of the car. She came out from the other side and then
pushed me to the spot where I ran away from one year ago.
I cried and begged Janet to allow us to leave this place but she wouldn’t
relent. A few minutes later, approximately fifty young men started to
approach us. In a panic I thought about running again. But I knew that
the short skirt and the high heels guaranteed that I would never be able to
out run the men this time.
I moved behind Janet hoping to use her as some type of shield. Janet
pushed me to the ground and then walked to where the men had stopped
just a few feet from us. I remained sitting in the ground almost frozen
with fear.
Janet and one of the men spoke for a minute, in silent tones. She then
returned to me.
“Get up Pussy,” she ordered with a look of disdain.
I complied with her order, still gazing at the men in fear.
She then whispered into my left ear, “I never told you how I was able to
get away from those hoodlums last year. They took all my money and
made me give them blowjobs. They would probably have ****d me, if I
didn’t make the deal.”
“What deal?” I asked softly so the men could not hear.
“I promised to deliver to them a willing pussy within one year,” she said.
“After I convinced them that my word was solid, they agreed. You see,
they wanted more than someone who would just lie there halve dead. The
deal was made pussy for a pussy. In return for delivering to them a
willing pussy, they would spare my pussy.”
I didn’t understand what she was saying. Perhaps my mind just didn’t
want to comprehend. “What do you mean?” I asked.
“You are the willing pussy I am delivering. And the young men are
satisfied with the deli every.”
Suddenly the full extent of my situation hit me like a ton of bricks and I
almost passed out. I looked at Janet’s eye directly for the first time in a
long time and said, “I will never willingly do anything sexual with a man.”
“Suit yourself,” she whispered, “if you don’t act like you enjoy sex with
all those men than I will tell them that you are a man. I have pictures of
your feminization to prove it. They will probably beat you to death.”
I started to panic realizing that she meant what she was saying. The men
would kill me! “They will kill you too.” I said.
“I am ready to accept that fate,” she said, “I am not afraid of these men or
death. In a sense I am more of a man than you are, Pussy.” She laugued.
I knew she wasn’t bluffing and that there was no way to change her mind.
Despite trying to muster up all my courage to defy her I couldn’t do it.
My fear of getting killed by these men was too great. Perhaps Janet was
right, I was a pussy after all.
Sensing my fear and shame, Janet said, “You will act like you enjoy
getting fucked by all those guys won’t you, pussy?”
I meekly answered, “yes.”
Janet signaled the men and soon the men surrounded me. One of them
pushed me to my knees and ordered me to take out his cock. I closed my
eyes as I reached inside his pants and took out his hardening tool. I
smelled another man as he approached me and told me to take his cock out
too. I opened my eyes to see the huge cock in my hand. While still
holding on to the first cock, I moved my left hand and took out the other
cock. The first guy moved his cock closer to my lips and ordered me to
suck. I did as instructed. As I sucked my first cock, I continued to
message the other cock with my left hand.
Janet approached me and whispered in my right ear. “You had better act
like you are enjoying this or I will tell them that you are really a man.”
Out sheer fear, I started to bob my head up and down and moan at the
same time. Another man approached me from behind me and lifted my
plump ass from the ground. While my mouth was still connected to a
cock, I felt the third man enter my pussy from behind. At first I felt great
pain but the pain slowly faded as the man fucked me.
For Janet’s sake, I started to moan again pretending that I was really
enjoying this experience. After a few minutes, the guy in my mouth came
and I swallowed his loads of cum. As soon as the first guy withdrew from
my mouth, the second guy put his cock in my mouth. Two more men
approached and put their cocks in each of my hands.
The guy fucking me slid below me without taking his cock out of me.
Soon another guy entered me through my asshole. I again felt pain but it
faded after a while. A pair of male hands was soon fondling my breasts.
I continued to act like I was enjoying it all by moaning. Sometime during
the fucking, I am not sure when, I stopped pretending and started to moan
for real. The physical pleasure was immense. I hated myself and the
shame of it all was overwhelming. But the physical pleasure was also
overwhelming. The guy in my pussy came and was soon replaced by
another guy. This process kept repeating itself until every man there
fucked me at least twice. I was so busy getting fucked that I didn’t even
notice Janet take luggage out of the trunk of her car and then leave. I just
noticed the luggage after the fucking stopped. That was the last day I saw
her.
Ever since then, I have satisfied the urges of the young men belonging to
our gang. I eventually learned to accept my fate and enjoy the constant
fucking that I get. But once in while I remember my past and feel both
guilty and depressed. Today was such an occasion; I read in the
newspaper that my company was going public this week. Janet’s picture
was in the paper. I cried my heart out. My picture should have been
there as well. It wasn’t my fault that I was a pussy.
Libbie
- 31.01.2021
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