The New Boss
By Suzi (Johnson) Thomas
We had been told that a person had been hired to fill the
manager's opening we had, and we knew that she was starting
today, but when she walked in the door, I think every guy in the
place gave a collective gasp. Wendy was absolutely drop-dead
gorgeous. She reminded me of Linda Carter, a tall brunette with a
figure that even her very business-like suit couldn't really
conceal. And no yuppie sneakers for her - her long, shapely legs
were in sheer nylons and high-heeled pumps with at least a
three-inch heel. Well, at least the scenery around here would
improve, I thought to myself.
She said a collective, "Good morning" to us all, and went into
her office. About a half-hour later, she had a group meeting,
introducing herself, etc. I could tell from the reactions of the
guys that they were entranced by her, and, while I wouldn't have
kicked her out of bed by any means, I firmly believed that work
and social life had to be kept entirely separate. Each was
difficult enough, without mixing the two.
A couple of weeks passed, and she began having one-on-one
sessions with each of us. She had learned the basics of what we
did, she explained, and now she wanted to get to know each of us
better. I was pretty far down on the appointment schedule, so I
had plenty of feedback from the other guys before my session. She
had kept them mostly business, asking just a few questions about
families and hobbies. So I was pretty surprised when she started
my interview off with, "Bobby, I get the feeling that you don't
particularly like me. I was wondering if it was something I've
done?" Of course it was nothing of the kind, just that while the
rest of the guys had been fawning over her like moon-struck
calves, I had kept my distance and been, I had thought, very
professional. Without referring to the others directly, I
explained my conviction to her, and she nodded that she
understood. "Well, I just wanted to make sure, Bobby, but I
certainly understand and can appreciate how you feel."
I must admit that it would have been easy for me to get
interested in her, because once in a while I fantasized about
her, and had even found myself dreaming about her once or
twice. The rest of the session went along the same lines that the
guys had told me about, though, and I put it out of my mind, or
at least tried to. Maybe if I hadn't been between girlfriends at
the time, things might have been different, but...
As the next month or so passed, I found my thoughts turning to
her, and my fantasies increased in both number and
intensity. Wendy never did anything to encourage them, but my
imagination didn't need any reinforcement from her. There was a
quarterly industry conference coming up, and I knew she'd be
attending it, but one day she called me into her office, and
asked if I would like to go as well. I hadn't expected this, but
she told me that she had noticed my work was excellent, and felt
I deserved a small break from routine. I told her that I
appreciated it, and would be glad to go. Hey, a week in San
Francisco was nothing to sneeze at, especially when the company
was paying for it.
The following Sunday afternoon I met her at the airport, and we
were soon airborne. We sat next to each other, and after a little
while she asked if I minded if she picked up the armrest that was
between us, to give us a bit more room. I said, "sure", and
became even more conscious of her presence beside me. We talked
for a while, and then she said she was going to try to take a
nap. I was reading a book, and about an hour later, she shifted
in her sleep, and her body was now resting against mine.
I got an erection almost immediately, as my mind went into
fantasy mode. I pictured her naked lying next to me, but I kept
myself very still, so I wouldn't cause her to shift away. She
moved again, snuggling closer, and I could feel her breast
against my arm. This sent waves of excitement through me, and I
had to struggle to stay still, but I did. She slept almost all
the way, turning away from me about fifteen minutes before she
woke up, so that our bodies were no longer touching. I could
still feel her there in my mind though, and my fantasies
continued.
When the pilot announced that we were starting to descend, I got
up and went to the restroom, carefully concealing my hard-on. I
looked at myself in the mirror, and willed it to go away, but it
took quite a while as the thoughts of her firm breast against me
kept coming back. When I returned to my seat, she smiled at me,
and apologized for being such poor company. "Oh, don't worry
about it," I said, "I was just reading my book anyway." We landed
and went to the baggage claim area to wait for our bags. Hers
appeared almost immediately, but mine took a long time to hit the
conveyor belt. Finally they did, though, and we got our rental
car, drove to the hotel and tried to check in. There had
apparently been a mix-up in the reservations, and they had
nothing showing for either of us.
Wendy was upset at the fact there were no single rooms left, but
fortunately the manager intervened, and gave us a two-bedroom
suite for the price of the rooms. As we went upstairs, Wendy
apologized that we would be sharing the suite, sacrificing some
privacy, but I assured her that we'd really be more comfortable
anyway, since neither of us would have had the living room area,
if we had had single rooms. We brought our bags in, and went into
the bedrooms to unpack. A while later, she called out to me,
asking if I wanted to go to dinner. I said, "sure," and we
changed into more formal clothes from the casual clothes we had
worn on the plane. I shaved, and then put on a suit, and when I
went into the living room, she complimented me on how nice I
looked. I returned the compliment, which was easy, because she
looked magnificent in a close fitting knit dress and heels.
The concierge downstairs recommended a restaurant to us, and we
walked a few blocks and went in. He had apparently gotten the
wrong impression, and thought that we were romantically involved,
because the place was an intimate little room with booths for
couple that gave the impression of privacy. We both had the same
thought I guess, and laughed about it as we sat down. Wendy was
an easy person to talk to, and we had a nice conversation as we
ate. She asked if I wanted to order a second bottle of wine,
because she felt like another glass, and we were soon deeply into
the bottle. I felt a little high by then, and reaching for a new
topic of conversation, I said, "You know, Wendy, I was a little
worried out at the airport that my luggage had gotten lost. That
would have been something, if the only thing I had to wear all
week were the clothes I had on."
She laughed, and as we paid the check and were walking back, she
said, "Bobby, that really would have been some problem, if your
luggage had been lost. The conference starts first thing in the
morning, and you wouldn't have been able to get anything to
wear."
By this time we were back in the suite, and she went over to the
mini-bar and took out a liqueur for a nightcap. "Want something,
Bobby?" she offered. I accepted a Grand Marnier, even though I
was still feeling high from the wine. We sat down on the couch,
at opposite ends, though, and I brought up the luggage incident
we'd been talking about before.
"I really don't know what I would have done," I said, and then
jokingly continued, "if I was with one of the guys, I could
probably have borrowed something from him, but I don't think I
could borrow anything suitable from you."
"Why, Bobby," she teased back, "I'm hurt that you don't feel I'm
one of the `guys', I would have lent you something to wear." We
kept teasing back and forth, with me saying that that wouldn't
have worked, and her insisting that it would have. "We're really
almost the same size, Bobby, I'm sure that I could have found
some things that would have fit you."
"Don't be ridiculous," I said, "women's clothes wouldn't fit me,
and I'd be willing to bet on it.
She looked at me a little strangely, and said, "I'm willing to
put my money, or rather the company's money, where my mouth is. I
know you're due for a raise next month, and I was getting ready
to fill out the form for a $3,000 increase. But I'll bet you,
two-to-one, that I'm right."
She outlined the terms of her proposed bet: She'd give me a
$4,000 raise if I were right, and only $2,500 if she was
wrong. To tell you the truth, I'd only been expecting about
$2,000 or so, since I'd heard raises weren't going to be that
great, and we were both pretty high, I guess, because I heard
myself saying, "I'll take that bet." She giggled a little, and
said she'd be right back. Before I had a chance to reconsider,
she was back with an armful of her things, and she handed them to
me.
"Here you go," she said, "go in and change, while I think about
the money I'll be saving the company."
"Better think about how you're going to explain that big a raise,
Wendy," I responded, "because I still think I'm right." I went
into my bedroom, and laid the bundle on the bed. I quickly
stripped off my clothes, and picked up the lace-trimmed pink
satin panties from the bed.
"Oh, boy," I thought to myself, "a $4,000 raise," fully expecting
that I'd win the bet. I sat down and pulled the pink panties up
over my legs, and my first thought was that I was in trouble -
they were very stretchy. When I stood up, and pulled them all the
way up, they easily covered me. But the feel of the satin against
my cock, so unlike my regular jockey shorts, soon had my thoughts
going in a different direction, or rather erection. The smooth
feeling, together with the realization that I was wearing Wendy's
panties, and my fantasies from the plane mingled and merged.
"This is ridiculous," I thought, though I was less sure of
winning the bet now. I put my arms through the bra straps, and
struggled to hook it closed behind me. It, too, was very
stretchy, and fit easily around me. I sat down again to put on
the black pantyhose, remembering how my girlfriends had done it,
hoping that this would be the thing that wouldn't fit. But
unfortunately, they did, and I stood up in my matching bra and
panties, with the pantyhose securely around my waist. All
thoughts of the bet were nearly gone as I felt the sheer garments
caressing my body. This was an economic-erotic nightmare!
The pantyhose were control top, and I felt them compressing my
body. I slipped on the blouse over my flat, but bra-clad chest,
and felt the silky feeling spread all over my upper body,
matching the feelings that the panties and hose were giving my
lower body. The buttons were on the 'wrong' side, of course, but
they did fasten the blouse around my chest. All that was left was
the straight black skirt, which I slid over the pantyhose, and
zipped up on the side, and the black patent leather high heels. I
thought that the shoes would be too small, and they seemed to be,
when I heard Wendy enter the room.
"Well, was I right?" she asked. "I .. I don't think the shoes
fit," I stammered, but she knelt down in front of me, and pushed
them onto my feet. The smooth nylon of the hose slid my feet into
them, and rising up, Wendy took my hand and helped me stand
up. It was precarious, being perched on top of the heels, and
even more so as she led me to the mirror, my steps small and
mincing from the arch of the shoes and the tight fitting skirt.
"See, I was right!" she said, disappearing for a minute into the
bathroom, and returning with a handful of tissues. "As a matter
of fact, there's even room for these," she said, opening the
front of my blouse and stuffing the tissues inside the cups of my
bra. She rebuttoned my blouse, and we looked at my strange
reflection in the mirror. From the neck down, I looked just like
a woman. Except for the bulge at my groin, where my cock, I
thought clearly showed its excited state. She either didn't
notice it, though, or ignored it. Only my male face, and my man's
haircut betrayed the fact that I wasn't a woman. "I just knew
it," she said, gloating a bit over her victory. "I'm just sorry
that I didn't make the bet I originally wanted to offer."
"And what was that?" I asked. She moved a little bit, and almost
lost her balance, showing the effects of the wine and the drink.
"I almost was going to say that not only would my clothes fit,
but that I would bet that I could totally make you pass as a
woman," she replied. "In fact, to show you what a sport I am, I
will make that bet, if you want - double or nothing again."
I quickly thought to myself, there's no way I would ever pass for
a girl with my short hair, and without thinking of the
consequences, I answered, "I'll take that bet. $3,500 if I win,
and $2,000 if I lose."
"You've got it," she said, leading me into her bedroom, and
sitting me down in front of the dressing table. She started
applying a cream foundation on my face and for the next few
minutes, I could see and feel her concentrating on the rest of
the makeup. She even glued false eyelashes and nails on me, and
when she stepped away from the mirror, my heart sank for a
moment. So skillfully had she applied the makeup, including a
bright red creamy lipstick, that the face that stared back at me
was clearly feminine. Now only my short hair remained as
testimony to my manhood - that and my now-raging hard-on which
threatened to burst through my panties.
Wendy disappeared for a minute, and then returned holding
something behind her back. "Thought that your hair would win the
bet for you, Bobby?" she asked, taking a curly wig out of hiding,
and placing it on my head. I had closed my eyes while she did
this, and when I opened them again; a beautiful woman was staring
back from the mirror. This was too much, I thought. She really
did it, there was no way to tell there was a man underneath the
clothes and makeup, and I realized that I had lost the second bet
as well. She walked me over to the full-length mirror, and as she
did, the feel of the soft silky clothes against my body, and my
memory of the feminine face I now had inflamed me still
further. My cock bulged against the tight skirt, now clearly
visible. Wendy stood next to me, and focused her eyes on its
reflected image. "You really are turned on by this, aren't you,
Bobby?"
I felt color rushing to my face, and even though I couldn't
explain why it was so, I shyly said, "Y...yes, Wendy, it does."
She grasped my cock through my skirt, and then, startling me,
called out, "Come on in, he's ready!" Before I could react, I
heard someone come into the room and say, "You've outdone
yourself this time, Wendy, she's gorgeous!" I turned quickly,
almost falling because of my high heels. Standing in the doorway
was a petite blonde, looking at me with an amused expression on
her face. She walked over toward me, and I could feel my face
turning beet-red over the embarrassment of being seen like this.
I stuttered out, "W...Wendy, who is this - what are you doing to
me?"
She said, "Bobbie, I'd like you to meet my friend Marsha. We go
back a long way together, and one of the things we've always
loved is to dress up guys in women's clothes." A sudden flash of
light exploded in my face as Marsha took a picture of me with a
camera she had concealed behind her back when she came into the
room.
"Hi, Bobbie, so nice to meet you," the blonde said. "Don't be
angry at our little game," she continued, "I think you'll find
that there are substantial benefits to playing with us, right
Wendy?" Wendy's hand had not moved from my cock, and Marsha
walked over and placed her hand on my silken-covered buns.
Instead of answering, Wendy turned to me and gave me a long
passionate kiss, squeezing my cock in its satin prison. My mind
was a jumble of thoughts, not knowing what was happening to
me. While Wendy continued to kiss me, Marsha bent down in front
of me, lifted my skirt, and freed my cock from under the
pantyhose and panties. Another bright flash, and I knew that the
sight of my cock, surrounded by satin and nylon, had been
captured.
Before I could think about that though, I felt her lips kissing
the head of my engorged cock, then sliding down the shaft,
engulfing me. The excitement I had felt from the touch of satin
was heightened by this, and in just a moment, I felt myself
shooting cum deep down her throat.
Wendy began unbuttoning my blouse, and then unzipped my skirt. I
stood there in lingerie and heels, recovering from my
orgasm. Both of them began to strip off their clothes, and in
another moment, I had my first look at their magnificent
bodies. "Just let us do the work, Bobbie," Wendy said to me, as
they each took a hand and led me to the bed. I had never been in
a three-way orgy before, but clearly they had. My feminine-clad
body became the sole focus of their attention, and they kissed
and caressed me for a while, bringing me back to an excited
state. Wendy climbed on top of me, and impaled herself on my
again-erect cock. Marsha moved up on the bed, and then swung her
leg across my head. Her pussy was hovering just above my lipstick
covered mouth, and not only couldn't I ignore it, I wanted to eat
her until she screamed. I didn't care what was going to happen
any time in the future, not right then; all I wanted was to
experience the moment. She lowered herself onto my mouth, and I
began to lick and suck on her clit, probing deep inside her with
my tongue.
The two of them leaned together and kissed, while their hands
were busy stroking each other and me. In no more than a minute or
two, both of them began to gasp and shudder as they orgasmed
together. I hadn't come again, and after pausing to savor their
orgasms for a few seconds, they scrambled to switch positions on
my body like a well-rehearsed team. I tasted the different, but
delicious juices of Wendy's pussy while Marsha proceeded to milk
me dry with her well-lubricated sweetness. I felt myself ready to
cum again, and first Wendy, then Marsha, joined me in a near
simultaneous explosion.
"Dear, sweet Bobbie," Wendy said to me a few minutes later, as I
lay, still feminized between their two naked bodies, "I'm sorry I
had to trick you like this. But I could just visualize how you
would look as a woman, and as I'm sure you've guessed, making
love to feminized men is a special turn-on for Marsha and
me. Somehow, though, I seem to think you didn't mind it all that
much, did you?"
I thought for a second, and then replied, "No, of course making
love with the two of you was fantastic, but being dressed like
this, I... I just don't know..."
"Come on, Bobbie," she said, "I saw how hard you were under your
skirt, inside your pretty pink panties. Don't try to tell me that
you didn't find wearing women's clothes a turn-on." I could feel
myself blushing beneath my makeup. She was absolutely right, of
course; although my head had tried to deny it, from the first
moment I felt her panties on my cock, I was hooked. "Do you
really think I was, am, pretty?" I shyly asked, abandoning all
pretenses that she was wrong in her judgment of my newly
discovered TV inclinations.
"You really do make a pretty girl, Bobbie," Marsha chimed in, "I
couldn't wait to suck on your she-male cock, or to feel it inside
me. I'm sorry, too, for tricking you. But I hope that this won't
be the end of this for us?"
"N...no, I don't think so," I said immediately. "I...I can't
explain why something I never even thought of before, wearing
women's clothes turned me on so much, but no, its definitely
something I think I want more of."
"How much more, Bobbie," asked Wendy, "have you given that any
thought?"
"No, I haven't," I replied, "this has all been happening so fast,
but I know that I want more experiences like tonight's. It was
wonderful." With that, they both started kissing me again, and I
found myself getting excited again. In a few minutes, Marsha was
laying down on the bed, being eaten by Wendy, who was on all
fours between her legs. I was standing at the foot of the bed,
perched on my high heels, pumping my cock inside Wendy's exposed
pussy. I was almost ready to cum, when Wendy reached back and
gave my cock a hard squeeze, preventing my orgasm. They quickly
switched positions, and I started to slide my cock inside
Marsha's wet hole, when she repositioned me to enter her ass. My
well-lubricated shaft hesitated at the tiny, puckered entrance,
and then slid inside as she thrust her hips back toward me.
Her ass was tight around me, and when I picked up the rhythm, I
came inside her with a final spasming thrust. I leaned forward on
her body, and she lay on top of Wendy, her mouth bringing another
giant orgasm to the tall brunette. We stayed in a layered heap
for a few minutes, recovering, and then the girls helped me out
of my things. I parted with them reluctantly, not wanting to lose
the feeling of the panties and other silky things against me, but
we then all crowded into the shower stall, in a warm, loving
jumble of glistening naked bodies.
My mind was distracted as we dried each other off, thinking about
the weird, but wonderful, events of the night. Practical
considerations began to intrude on my thoughts, thoughts like the
fact that they had taken my picture, that Wendy was still my
boss, and that my raise had been cut substantially as a result of
losing the bets. Where was my newly discovered TV tendency going
to lead? I didn't know any of the answers to these questions, as
the girls helped me into a silky white peignoir set, then put on
their own nightgowns. There didn't seem to be an appropriate time
to raise these issues, as we crawled into the king-sized bed, the
girls making sure that I was sandwiched between them. They each
kissed me goodnight, and then kissed each other, when Wendy said,
"Bobbie, there are a lot of things we have to talk about, but I
think the morning would be best, don't you? I know I'm exhausted,
and I'm sure you are also." I admitted I was, and we all said
goodnight. But tired as I was, I found myself unable to fall
asleep immediately; thrilled by the feeling the silky nightie was
giving me. I lay there quietly, so I wouldn't disturb them, until
my jumbled mind finally gave up and I fell into a deep, dreamless
sleep.
Or at least I thought it was dreamless, until early the next
morning I woke up to the gentle caresses of four hands roaming
all over my silken-clad body. It seemed as though I was not the
only one who must have had some erotic dreams during the
night. My cock was fully erect, and the girls were paying it
particular attention. I was lost for a moment until the memories
of last night's activities flooded back to me. When they saw I
was awake, there was a moment or two of giggling, and a great
flurry of activity as our three nightgowned bodies maneuvered
around. Marsha's sweet pussy was again just above my lips, and
her gown swirled around my head. This drove me wild as the
sensation of the smooth silk around my face matched the feeling
of the nightgown around the rest of me. Marsha took me into her
mouth, and Wendy assisted with deft licks and sucks on my
balls. When I had brought Marsha to orgasm with my tongue, the
two of them again switched positions, and I tasted Wendy's
different, but still delicious nether lips against my
tongue. Wendy and I came at the same moment, and I felt a mouth,
drink it every drop of my spurting essence.
After a while, Wendy called down for room service, and about
fifteen minutes later, the three of us were sitting around the
table, all still our nighties. The girls had slippers on, but I
had slid back into the high heeled pumps I had worn last night. I
felt a little strange, sitting there, in my short hair and
unmade-up face, but I didn't say anything about it.
When we had had a cup of coffee and some juice, before we began
to dig into the rest of the breakfast, Wendy began to
speak. "Bobbie, I know how confusing all this seems to you, and
I'd like to explain a little. As I told you last night, Marsha
and I have been friends for a long time, and I guess you could
tell, you're not the first man who we've shared our love
with. It's surprisingly easy to get a man into a feminized state,
as you found out last night." I could feel myself blushing at the
realization of how easily I had been tricked. She continued,
"Sometimes, there are regrets the next morning, and that's
basically the end of it, just a one-night fling. But,
occasionally, there have been some men, and I think, and hope,
that you're one of them, who have loved to have the feminine side
of them exposed, and they've wanted to continue to explore the
fantasy. I just want to tell you, though, that no matter what,
you shouldn't feel under any pressure or obligation because we
work together. I always keep my business life and my personal
life strictly separate. Oh, by the way, those picture that we
took are for a private scrapbook we keep, not for any other
purpose." We started to eat, while I considered the things she
had said. The two of them chatted together about different
things, giving me the opportunity to think for a while.
Finally, I thought I had sorted out my feelings a little, and I
spoke, "While it was a kind of dirty trick you two played on me
last night, I can't deny how fantastic I felt. And though I don't
know where this may all be headed, I definitely know that you've
turned me on to something I know I don't want to give up, at
least for a while. I can't make any promises about the ultimate
outcome, but I'd love to continue with it for a while."
They got up and came over and hugged me. "I'm glad you feel that
way, Bobbie, and I know Marsha is, too," Wendy said. "I think
we'll have a great time together on the journey. But,
unfortunately, it's almost time to get downstairs for the opening
session, and I don't think you want to go there dressed like
that!" We all laughed, and we separated to being dressing for the
conference.
I went back into the other bedroom, and began to put on my
things. The suit I was going to wear would be all right, I
thought, but I hesitated when I had pulled my jockey shorts
on. The feel of the cotton, which had always seemed so
comfortable before, was rough against my well-used cock. Or maybe
that was my imagination, and the problem was just that I loved
the feel of satin panties more instead. Without even thinking
twice, I walked naked into the other bedroom where the girls were
now dressing. They were in their underwear already, and dissolved
into laughter when I asked if they had a pair of panties I could
wear under my suit, "since it seems that I'm a bit sore from last
night."
Wendy stopped laughing long enough to dig out the satin pair I
had worn the night before, and tossed them to me. "Here you go,
Bobbie, sorry that we made you so sore," she giggled, and almost
as an afterthought, I bent down and picked up my used
pantyhose. "I think it may be a bit chilly - maybe I should wear
these, too," I teasingly suggested, and I left the room, all of
us laughing heartily.
The panties and hose felt as wonderful this morning as they had
last night, and I quickly put on the rest of my clothes over
them. We went downstairs, and I was glad that my suit jacket hid
my cock, which had responded to the smooth silky undies I
wore. The morning's session dragged on interminably, and I sat
there with the panties exciting me all morning. We decided to
skip the opening luncheon, and when we got back to the suite, the
girls took pity on my plight. They pulled off my suit pants, and,
kneeling down in front of me, gave me the most tremendous blowjob
I'd ever had, licking and sucking me until Marsha pulled me deep
inside her, until I shot a torrent down her throat.
While I recovered, and Marsha went into the bathroom to clean up,
Wendy asked me if I'd like to take the afternoon off to go
shopping. Now normally, I hate to shop, but I had the feeling
that we wouldn't be looking through too many male things
today. She confirmed this, saying as Marsha returned, "I'm going
to run out of panties if I have to share them for a week, Bobbie
- would you like to pick up some of your own? Oh, by the way, you
can forget about losing the bets last night, that was only a
pretext." I could feel myself blushing again, but the thought of
having my own feminine things to wear was exciting. I agreed, and
thanked her for letting me off the hook for the losing bets.
"That's OK, Bobbie," she said, laughing, "because I think you're
going to need the money, for your new wardrobe."
As we walked out of the hotel, Wendy filled me in about Marsha. I
learned that she worked for one of our competitors, in the
equivalent of Wendy's position. They had met while on a training
program at another firm after they had graduated from college,
and during their first year of working together, had discovered
their mutual interests and established a relationship. They
continued working together for another few years, and after
getting some solid experience under their belts, had left to join
their new firms. The talk quickly switched off that topic,
however, as we went into the department store that was up the
street from the hotel. They led me into the woman's department,
and for the first time, it was difficult for me to try to
maintain the typical bored male's attitude toward his
wife/girlfriend's shopping, since I knew that everything they
picked out was really for me.
They began in the lingerie department, where they selected
several pairs of panties and pantyhose, and some nightgowns,
asking me for my approval on each. I was thrilled by the very
thought of wearing these things, and could do little more than
dumbly nod `yes' to each. Then turned to more exotic items. I
didn't even know the names of some of their selections, but they
whispered to me that they were designed to give me extra
shaping. Wendy paid for these things, telling me that today's
shopping trip was on her and Marsha, to make up for the trick
they had played on me.
Next stop was in the dress department, where they chose a couple
of daytime dresses, before looking at the fancier party
dresses. They ooh-ed and aah-ed over them, while I managed to
seem unconcerned, though I began to picture myself in each one as
they held it up for approval. They finally decided on a royal
blue sheath gown, and as Wendy paid for the selections, Marsha
whispered that she was getting all wet, thinking about it on me.
We left the store, and Wendy commented on my control, and how I'd
maintained the bored attitude of a typical guy. "Let me tell
you," I said, "it was hard - in more ways than one!" We walked a
little further and went into a Payless Shoe store.
"This place is great," Marsha said. "There aren't a million
clerks hanging over you, and you just pick your shoes off a
shelf." The store was pretty empty, and as she had said, we
walked right back to the women's shoe area unchallenged.
My brain did a flip as I saw the rows of high heels, and after
quickly checking one pair on for size, my heart pumping with the
possibility of being discovered, they chose three pairs of shoes
to match the dresses they had bought for me. We brought the shoes
up front and paid for them. "God, I was worried someone would see
me," I admitted.
Marsha said, "Hey, don't worry, this is San Francisco, after
all. I'm sure that even if someone did spot you, it wouldn't have
fazed them a bit."
We walked a little further, and before we went into a wig shop,
they asked me if I had any preference about color. "Well," I
thought out loud, "you're a brunette, Wendy, and you're a blonde,
Marsha - I guess that leaves being a redhead to me, doesn't it?"
They talked for a minute, agreeing that color would suit my fair
skin, and the things they had bought me, and in just a few
minutes we walked out with two wigs, one in a shoulder length,
straight cut, and the other in a longer, curly style. After two
more quick stops for cosmetics and some costume jewelry, we
headed back to the hotel. It was just mid-afternoon, and we had
decided to blow off the sessions for the rest of the day.
The elevator, which had seemed reasonably quick before, now
seemed to be an endless trip, because I wanted to try on some of
my new things so much. We no sooner got into the suite than they
attacked me, almost ripping off my suit, tie and shirt. My
clothes were discarded onto the floor, and they led me into my
bedroom. We talked for a minute about what to try on first, and
they outvoted my suggestion of the party dress, saying I should
work my way up to that. I stripped off my borrowed panties and
hose, and held a white torsolette against me while they fastened
the hook-and-eyes.
I felt myself being squeezed into a feminine shape by the
deceptively strong lacy garment. It pulled in my waist quite a
bit, while pushing my flesh upwards into the padded bra
cups. Even though I knew that most of my bust was from the
padding, I saw that the torsolette gave me my own little
titties. There were four long garters hanging from the bottom of
the torsolette, and they sat me down on the side of the bed,
showing me the proper technique for rolling the sheer nylons up
over my calves and thighs. They fastened the garters on, and then
Marsha held a pair of panties for me to step into. "Your first
pair of panties of your very own, Bobbie," Wendy said, causing my
already erect cock to twitch. "That will never do, Bobbie," Wendy
said, eyeing my male protrusion, and she lowered her lips around
me, bringing me to a quick climax. The panties now fit with no
telltale bulge, as Marsha reached in and tucked me back.
The afternoon passed quickly, as I tried on all the things they
had bought me. After I had put on the first dress, they applied a
full makeup to my face, and put the straight wig on my head. Once
I had been totally transformed, the time was like a dream, as I
watched and felt my feminized self changing from one thing to
another. They hadn't changed my undies as I went through the
daytime things, but when the only dress I hadn't worn was the
blue cocktail dress, they removed the white outfit, leaving me
entirely naked. Wendy got out a set of black underthings, and I
stood still as they laced me into a waist cincher that pulled in
my body by at least six inches.
"I can't breathe," I gasped out, and they laughingly told me that
all girls had to suffer at least a little for fashion. I could
barely sit as they pulled on sheer black nylons and attached the
garters to hold them up. Frilly black panties followed, and
finally a strapless black bra, that was underwired and
padded. The tops of my new breasts were pushed up over the top of
the bra, giving me the impression of real cleavage.
They walked me over to the full-length mirror, and I saw just how
much they had been able to transform me. I noted that I would
have to shave the few hairs I had on my chest, and my legs, of
course, and I was startled to find myself thinking this way. I
said this out loud, and both of them stared at me for a
minute. "Do you mean you'd be willing to shave yourself all over,
Bobbie?" Wendy asked, and when I said that I would, I found
myself being led into the bathroom. The next thing I knew, my
stockings had been rolled down, and the two of them were
lathering me up. The hair from my legs, chest and underarms
disappeared under their careful ministrations, and they lovingly
used a washcloth to remove the remnants of the lather.
We went back into the bedroom, and I felt the even more intense
sensations of the stockings being put back on. Aside from the
smooth sleek feel of them on my legs, my sensitivity was
heightened by the shaving process. I rubbed my stockinged legs
together, delighting in how they felt. Marsha put my new royal
blue heels in front of me, and I stepped up into them with their
assistance. They fit so much better than last night's heels, and
although they were obviously women's shoes, they just seemed to
mold themselves around my stockinged feet.
I walked, somewhat precariously, across the room and stood in
front of the mirror. Marsha replaced the straight-cut wig with
the curly one and then Wendy lifted the dress over my head. I
raised my arms so it would slip down over me. It had a sweetheart
neckline, which showed off my new titties, and the top was of a
gauzy material that covered not only the top of my body, but
extended down my arms. The impression was so exciting to both the
touch and the eye: the silky feel of the ultra-feminine clothes
on my body, and the seemingly modest but very sexy look of the
sheer material over the almost daring lower dress. I felt tears
coming to my eyes, as I was so moved by my transformation, and
they each put an arm around my waist, standing on either side of
me.
The reflection I saw was clearly that of a young woman, and the
last vestiges of my manhood seemed to melt away, as my mind made
the transition into femininity as well. From the curly hair to
the toes of my high-heeled shoes that just peeked out beneath the
hem of the full-length sheath dress, there could have been no
doubt that what anyone who might have seen me would have thought-
that this was truly a beautiful woman.
I burst out into tears, startling both of them, and I quickly
answered their unspoken questions with, "No, don't worry, I'm not
upset - its just that I... I'm s...so h...happy!"
They hugged me close, and comforted me, and Wendy said, "I'll bet
you never cried because you were happy before, did you, Bobbie?"
I shook my head `no' as the tears continued to roll down my
face. When I regained my composure, they fixed my makeup, and I
spent the rest of the afternoon, practicing my newfound feminine
persona, walking around in the snugly fitting dress on my new
heels. Everything about the time was fascinating, and the girls
spent much of the time tutoring me on little feminine traits, how
to walk and sit properly, etc. They told me later how well I took
to this new role, how my maleness seemed to disappear, to be
replaced with what was at first an awkward, then a surer
femininess. They were super-complimentary, reassuring me of how
pretty I looked, and how quickly I made improvements in myself.
To tell the truth, I felt very natural, almost from the first,
and they kept me so busy that I really nearly forgot what an
incredible erotic experience wearing women's clothes was for
me. They made me change out of the evening gown, and made sure
that I became comfortable with the other things they had bought
me. I did resist changing out of the black underwear, when they
suggested it, though, and Wendy teased me that I liked the sexy,
slutty way it made me feel. And she was right! Even in the most
ordinary daytime dress, just knowing that I was wearing the black
frillies made me feel sexy.
As it grew toward evening, Marsha said, "I don't know about you
girls," sending a thrill through me hearing myself referred to
that way, "but we skipped lunch and I'm starving. Do you want to
go out," she teased me, "or order something from room service."
We quickly decided on room service, and, as I reflected on the
afternoon's activities, my sexual arousal grew. I became aware of
the fact that the afternoon had turned Wendy and Marsha on as
well, and we indulged in a little kissing and petting until we
heard the knock on the door.
They had become much more disheveled than I had during the course
of the afternoon, but I recoiled with horror at Wendy's
suggestion that I answer the door. "I can't let anyone see me
like this," I whispered back at her.
"Sure you can, the guy won't even blink, except maybe to stare at
how gorgeous you are." I wasn't sure at all, but when the two of
them ran inside and disappeared, I screwed up my courage, and
opened the door, silently cursing the girls to myself for having
left me in this position. But as the bellboy set the dinners on
the table, and I signed the check, using Wendy's name to cover my
femme self, I didn't notice any reaction on his part.
When I added a generous tip, he merely said, "Thank you, Ma'am,
and have a good evening."
After he left, I stormed into the bedroom where Wendy and Marsha
had fled, and found them giggling uncontrollably. My anger
dissipated immediately, seeing them, and I joined in their
laughter. "That was really awful of you two," I managed to get
out, "I almost peed my pants at the thought of facing him,
dressed like this!"
As we sat down, Wendy said, "I'm sorry again, that we did that,
but we knew that you could easily pass as a woman. No matter how
many times we told you that, though, you would never have
believed it until you had proof for yourself, and now you do."
"I guess you're right," I answered slowly, "and they say that the
best way to learn to swim is to get thrown into the water, but I
still almost had a heart attack." When we finished dinner, and
the bottle of wine we had ordered, I gathered everything up and
left the tray in the hall. I was excited again, and I knew that
they were, too. They practically carried me into the bedroom, and
they unbuttoned my dress and removed it. Wendy bent down and
pulled off my panties, leaving me in the black torsolette,
stockings and heels. Marsha opened the bag with the nightgowns
they had bought me, which I really hadn't noticed when we were
shopping.
"Do you feel a little risque, Bobbie?" she asked, pulling out a
black and white garment. Without waiting for an answer, she
tossed it to me, and when I held it up in front of me, I saw it
was a short nightie that looked like a maid's outfit. It was of
black nylon, with a tiny attached apron, and I knew it would go
perfectly with the black frillies I was wearing. I raised it over
my head and slipped it on. It had long sleeves, ending in white
lacy cuffs, and the hem of the micro mini-skirt was also trimmed
in white lace. The neckline was low-cut, exposing the tops of my
smooth creamy breasts. Wendy placed a black velvet choker around
my neck, and as she moved around me, I felt the gentle movement
of air against my exposed cock. The skirt just barely reached the
tops of my stockings, and hid my erection.
I stood there just looking at the fantasy woman in the mirror,
not noticing what the girls were doing. In a minute or two, they
stood next to me, each in black outfits that resembled the
torsolette I was wearing, with black stockings and extra-high
black heels. Psychologically, I felt dominated by the two of
them, dressed as a servant in my maid's outfit. Wendy held a
nylon stocking in her hand, and she took the lead, bending down
to tie the stocking around my cock.
She led me by pulling the stocking, and forced me to my knees in
front of her. "Would you like to eat my pussy, Bobbie?" she
asked, and without answering, I quickly leaned into her crotch
and began to lick on her exposed cunt. She pulled my head closer,
and she came almost immediately, her sweet juices running down my
face. She handed the stocking to Marsha, and Wendy's sweetness
was replaced by Marsha's. I serviced her as well, my own cock
throbbing from my activities and the touch of the stocking.
When I raised my head from Marsha's pussy, I saw what Wendy had
been doing when I was busy with Marsha. She had put on a
harness-like device, and inserted one end of a small,
double-sided dildo into herself. "Suck my cock, Bobbie," she
breathed, and I began to lick the tip of the rubber cock. She let
me do that for a moment, then led me over to the bed, where she
lay down, pulling me into a kneeling position in front of her
legs. I resumed my efforts on the false cock, not realizing or
caring that my skirt rode up on my ass. As I worked on her cock,
twisting and rotating it inside her, I felt Marsha behind me. She
stroked my cock, playing with me, and then I felt her finger
touching my tiny, puckered asshole. She must have used something
to lubricate it, because she was soon inserting her fingertip
inside me, first, just the tip, then the entire length of her
finger. I found myself responding to her penetration, moving my
hips back and forth in rhythm with her motions. A second finger
joined the first inside me, as I relaxed myself to her.
From around the false cock which filled my mouth, I moaned, "Oh,
yes, give it to me," as she finger-fucked my virgin
butt-hole. Wendy pulled me closer as my sucking and twisting of
the dildo brought her off in a gasping, heaving orgasm, then
released me. They quickly exchanged positions, and I found my
face buried deeply in Marsha's pussy, licking at her clit. Wendy
moved around behind me, and the emptiness of my ass was filled as
she inserted one of her fingers, moistened with her cum juice
inside me. She probed me deeply and I again began to moan, rising
in pitch as her second, then third fingers probed inside me.
Marsha's legs wrapped themselves around my head, pinning me
against her pussy, when I felt Wendy withdrawing from me. Her
fingers were replaced at the entrance to my virgin ass by the tip
of the dildo, and I realized what was about to happen. The
thought frightened me, and I tried to resist from fear, but she
leaned over and whispered to me, "Trust me, Bobbie, I'll be
gentle." She inserted the tip of the false cock into me, and then
waited as my fear subsided and my hole relaxed around the dildo.
Marsha regained my attention as she writhed around under my
mouth, and the anal invader slowly made its lubricated way inside
me. Suddenly, my relaxation was total, and the full length of the
shaft slid into me, filling me as never before. The sensation was
strange, but after the probing of the tiny, feminine fingers,
wonderfully filling. I found myself thrusting back to meet
Wendy's slow rhythm, and moaned, "Yes, yes, fuck me!"
As Wendy picked up the pace, ramming her cock into me, her hand
reached around me and grasped my cock, stroking it with her
cum-juice slick hand. I gave into the twin sensations, as her
hand and cock moved together, and with a final backward thrust,
my cum shot out in great spurting gushes, as I felt Marsha come
simultaneously. I collapsed on top of Marsha, totally spent and
exhausted, but when I felt Wendy starting to withdraw from
between my ass-cheeks, I managed to raise one hand to hold her
against me. I could not speak because my mouth was still locked
and buried in Marsha's pussy, but I had grown used to the filled
feeling, and didn't want to experience the emptiness just yet.
Wendy lay on top of me, and both of their hands were stroking my
body and head, and I felt so contented that I almost began to
drift off to sleep. Finally though, Marsha who was bearing the
weight of both of us, said that she needed to breathe, and I
reluctantly moved my body off to the side, turning so that I was
facing her. I had twisted Wendy around with me, so that we lay
like spoons, her cock still buried deep within my ass. She gave
me tiny kisses on the back of my neck, as Marsha kissed me deeply
on the lips, both of them hugging me against their bodies. I was
the first one to speak, the first words other than my impassioned
pleadings while we were making love. "A little risque, Marsha,
that was a little risque?" Both of them laughed, Wendy's movement
shifting the still rigid cock inside me.
"I guess that might have been an understatement, Bobbie," Marsha
said.
We lay there, silent again for a while, and I thought about what
had taken place in just 24 hours. My entire world had been turned
upside down: I would have told anyone who said that I would be
totally feminized, with a dildo fucking my ass, that he was
crazy, but here I was. Not only that, but I knew that I loved
what had been done to me, and that far from an aberration, this
was something I wanted more of. Although they continued to hold
and cuddle me, the girls were silent, realizing, I guess, what
was going through my mind. As different and strange as this
experience had been for me, I knew that they had opened up their
relationship to an outsider, maybe not for the first time, but
still leaving themselves exposed and vulnerable as well.
"Any regrets, Bobbie?" Wendy ventured, giving me the opening to
share my thoughts with them.
I thought for a minute, and as I looked deeply into Marsha's
eyes, I responded, "Yes, Wendy, I think I do have one regret." I
felt Wendy sag against me a little, and I saw the slightest tinge
of uncertainty on Marsha's face. I couldn't contain my amusement,
as I said, "I think that I'm a little disappointed - but only
that Wendy doesn't have a bigger cock!" I saw that I still had
much to learn about the female perspective, as they tried to
grin, and then dissolved in tears. I worried for a moment that I
had really upset them, but then realized that they were tears of
happiness, and that they had taken my comment as the joke I had
intended.
When we woke the next morning, it was pretty frantic, since we
had fallen asleep pretty much the same way, all of us being
totally exhausted. The girls helped me take off my makeup, and
then we each hurriedly showered. I didn't hesitate a second to
pull on a pair of panties and pantyhose, my own this time, under
my suit. I got the same warm tingling feeling from their touch on
me, reassuring me that the thoughts I had had last night were
still the same in the light of day. We attended the day's
sessions diligently, and had another rousing dress-up and
lovemaking session afterward. The next three days followed the
same pattern, and we spent lots of time circulating among the
other attendees, networking and building up our
contacts. Finally, it was the last day of the conference,
culminating in a fancy dinner-dance.
"I wish I could wear my party dress, instead of this suit," I
complained to the girls that afternoon. "I would love to be `out'
even if no one knew it." Wendy and Marsha looked at me strangely,
since I had resisted all their pleadings for the last few days to
venture out while Dressed.
"Are you serious, Bobbie?" Wendy asked me. "Would you really
consider going to the dinner dressed?"
"I...I think I am, Wendy." Marsha and Wendy looked at each other,
and started discussing it. I had never attended one of these
conferences before, so I didn't know what the dinner-dance was
like, but they had been to several. "You know, Marsha, there are
a couple of hundred people there, and after the two-hour cocktail
reception, everyone is pretty blitzed. I guess the biggest
problem would be the people they've assigned to our table. If
they've met Bobbie, that would pretty much rule it out."
"You're right, but if they hadn't met him, ...they could meet
her! Is there any way of finding out who our tablemates are
beforehand?" Wendy picked up the phone, and called down to the
conference center, and found out that they had put together a
patchwork table for us, six people from Idaho, and a seventh from
South Dakota. We talked about whether or not any of them had met
us, and found out that they hadn't. As a matter of fact, no one
even remembered seeing anyone from either of those two
states. "I'll bet they blew off every session, and spent the
whole week sightseeing and goofing off, here in the big city,"
Wendy said.
"Well, that pretty much settles it," I said, "at least as far as
I'm concerned. If we skip most of the cocktail party, no one at
our table should be able to even see by dinnertime."
"Bobbie, are you sure about this?" Wendy asked. "I mean, I know
that dressing turns you on, and you've really learned a lot about
how to act properly in the last few days, but this is a big
step. I...I'm a little worried, to tell you the truth."
"I know it seems like a spur of the moment thing," I said, "but
let's face it, only you manager types get any real attention at
this thing. We peons who are brought along for the ride, as a
perk, just fade into the background, anyway. I'll bet at this
whole conference there are only 5 or 6 people who'd even remember
my name. I just think it would be a real kick, and I'd really
like to do it." The girls debated for a minute, then giggling,
decided why not?
They treated me like two older sisters, getting their younger
sister ready for the prom. The thought of being out among other
people while dressed was a little frightening, but it was more
exciting. They gave me a bubble bath, and shaved me very
carefully, all over. My cock was standing straight up when they
started getting me dressed, but the two of them took care of that
pretty quickly.
"Bobbie, I think we're going to have to do something about this,"
said Marsha, holding my now-limp cock. Wendy went over to her
dresser for a minute, and returned holding a pair of control
briefs. "If you tuck yourself back inside these, I can guarantee
that nothing will show. They're tight on me - I don't even know
why I even packed them - but now I'm glad I did."
I stepped into them, and struggled to pull them up. They were
really tight, but with my cock tucked back, all that you could
see from the front was a realistic mound that looked like a
woman's pussy. They fitted my black torsolette around me and
fastened it up tight, padding the cups below my raised chest
flesh and making my breasts rise above the cup tops.
I moved over and sat on the bed, as they attached my stockings to
the hanging garters, then stood up and raised a pair of silky
black panties into place. I stepped into the royal blue
high-heels, and they lifted the dress over my head and zipped me
up. Wendy had been right - the control panties held me firmly in
place, and nothing showed at the front of the sheath dress. They
led me over to the dressing table, and placing a towel around my
shoulders, proceeded to put on a full makeup, including the
longest, fullest eyelashes I had ever seen, courtesy of Marsha.
They put the long, curly wig on me, brushing it carefully, so
that it looked like I had just gotten out of the beauty
parlor. While I waited for the nail tips they had glued on to
dry, they got themselves ready. They had finished putting on
their gowns and makeup, and had applied a deep red polish to my
nails, matching the color that covered my lips. I began to laugh,
and Marsha asked me what was so funny.
"We are," I managed to say, "we look like a flag for God's sake!"
They saw what I'd meant:
Wendy was wearing a sexy red dress that complimented her brunette
hair, and the radiant blonde Marsha wore a white gown that showed
off her petite, sexy figure to perfection. They joined my
laughter, but there wasn't anything we could do about it, since
these were the only formals we had.
We walked over to the mirror and checked out our
appearance. "Well, we may look like a flag," Wendy said, "but I
can guarantee that more than hands will be saluting us
tonight. Girls, you both look gorgeous." I beamed with pride, and
we returned her compliment.
We checked the time, and saw that the cocktails had been going on
for more than an hour and a half, so it was time to go. As we
walked out of the suite toward the elevator, they kept up a
steady stream of last minute instructions and word of advice for
me. It took my mind off my nervousness, I guess, because I felt
pretty calm, much more so than I would have expected. When we got
to the ballroom, the noise level confirmed our suspicions that
plenty of alcohol had been flowing, and no one noticed us when we
walked in. "Remember to try to pitch your voice properly, Bobbie.
"And talk as little as possible," Wendy said as a final warning.
We went over to one of the bars, and Marsha ordered drinks for
us. None of us wanted to get tipsy, of course, but we would be
out of place without one in our hands. We chatted among ourselves
for a few minutes, and as I looked around, I noticed that we were
attracting quite a few serious looks from the men standing around
the room. I mentioned that to Wendy in a whisper, but she
replied, "what do you expect - let's face it we are three pretty
attractive women, and men are going to stare at us."
"Are you sure that they haven't figured out about me?" I asked.
"No way, Bobbie, believe me, there's nothing but pure lust in
those eyes!" I guessed that she was right; I didn't see anything
strange in the way they were looking at us. In a few minutes, the
lights dimmed, then went bright again, signaling that we should
get to our table for dinner. We were the first to sit down, and
the girls shielded me by sitting on either side of me. The rest
of our table, all men, got there soon after, and as we had
speculated, none of us recognized any of them. I felt fairly
comfortable, and the sound of the band and the noise in the room
were so loud that conversation with anyone not sitting next to
you was almost impossible.
We ate our appetizers and salad, and then there was a short break
before the main course. The band was playing dance music, though,
and before I knew what was happening, three of the men got up and
asked us to dance. I hesitated, but didn't have much choice since
the guy who had asked me was pretty drunk already, and I didn't
want to make a scene. He led me to the dance floor, and I felt my
knees shaking as he put his arm around me and pulled me close to
him. I was having enough trouble dancing in my high heels, when I
realized that he was grinding his groin up against me. Horny
Bastard, I thought, and I pulled myself back as much as I could.
I was relieved when the dance was over, and I could return to the
table and sit down. "That S-O-B was dry-humping me," I complained
to Wendy.
But she just laughed and said, "What do you expect - as far as he
can tell, you're just a fantastic looking woman, sweetie!"
As we ate the main course, I thought about how exciting it was to
be out here, dressed as a woman, in front of all these people. My
body was shaped into a lovely silhouette by the black torsolette,
and the blue gown was molded to my every curve. Men's eyes were
on me, but they had no clue about the little secret inside my
panties. Thank God for the tight control briefs!
More dancing followed the main course, and the girls and I were
the targets for every one of the men, except one, a very quiet
guy from South Dakota, who hadn't asked any of us to dance. He
looked like he was so shy that if one of the girls talked to him,
he'd practically faint. Marsha noticed this, and thought she
would have a little fun, so she went around the table, grabbed
his hand and asked him to dance. He turned beet-red, but meekly
got up and followed her to the dance floor. His face had scarcely
gotten any paler when they returned, and Wendy compounded his
embarrassment but immediately asking him for the next dance.
Marsha leaned over and whispered to me, "You're next." I
protested, but she was insistent, and for the first time in my
life, I asked a man to dance with me. I was the aggressor this
time, and I could feel his hard-on against me when I held him
close to me. He really was shy, I thought, and I wondered how he
would feel if he knew my secret.
After the desert and coffee, the party started to break up, and I
followed Wendy and Marsha's lead and stood up, saying
'Good-nights' to out tablemates, leaving them, no doubt, very
frustrated! We went back up to the suite, and had nightcaps from
the mini-bar, the girls kicking off their heels. I didn't want
the total feeling to end, though, so I kept mine on. We were
sitting on the couch, with me in the middle, and we were soon
kissing and stroking each other, knowing that this wonderful week
would soon be over, wanting to extend it as long as possible.
When we went into the bedroom, we stood in front of the mirror
together, and though I felt a little disheveled, I drank in the
image of the three women standing there with a great deal of
pleasure. Wendy and Marsha knelt down in front of me, and lifting
the hem of my gown, removed the panties I was wearing. They began
to lick and suck on my she-male cock, and as the waves of
pleasure swept over my body, I continued watching, loving the
sight of them as well as the clothes I was wearing.
We fell into bed together a few minutes later, and had a riotous
time, making love to each other, delighting in the feel of satin
and skin, sharing our last hours in San Francisco. There was a
tinge of melancholy in the air, as we showered later, donned our
nightgowns and lay in bed together before falling asleep, with
only our whispered 'I love you's breaking the silence.
---
That all happened nearly four years ago, and the three of us are
still together. We've found that we're extremely compatible, and
there is no jealousy among us. The only thing that could be
called a disagreement we've had was when I decided, about six
months later, that I wanted to have real breasts of my own. Wendy
and Marsha were opposed at first, wanting me to keep my male body
as it was, but eventually they understood and accepted my
desire. That meant, of course, that I would be living full-time
as a woman, requiring a complete shift in life-style.
I resigned from my job, and had the surgery and hormone
treatments that gave me my breasts, and had electrolysis to
remove my beard. The hormones also had the effect of making me
considerably less hairy all over, and also caused my figure to
assume more womanly proportions. There was one rough time, when
my libido went to zero because of them, but the girls were very
supportive throughout, once they had accepted my decision. When I
tapered off to just a maintenance dosage, everything returned to
normal, thank goodness.
I was able to get a job with Marsha's firm for two years, until a
managerial position opened up with another company. I applied for
it, and was accepted, and when I walked in for the first time, I
understood how Wendy must have felt, as an attractive woman,
coming in as the new boss. Needless to say, we all attend the
annual conference together each year, and look forward to it as
both an anniversary, and as the high point of the year. From time
to time, the three of us will select a likely male target, and
just have a ball feminizing him, but so far, we haven't found
anyone that we wanted to permanently include in our group to
round it off as a foursome. The best part of these times, of
course, is when our 'victim' discovers the secret inside my
panties!