Xenthia Chapter 1 Hypna and Morphia
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Xenthia (Chapter 2 - Apolla) free porn video
This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to any real persons or events is
purely coincidental.
Please leave a review - This is my first work of TG fiction and I am
looking for help along the way!
For full enjoyment please read the chapters preceding this text.
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Xenthia by Sadie Chan
RECAP: Michael, a 26-year old part-time crossdresser, has started
listening to a series of audio hypnosis files made by the mysterious
Mistress Xenthia with the hope of becoming a complete woman. His first
file is one called "Apolla" and he has just come out of his first trance
of many on the road to becoming Sara.
Chapter 2: Apolla
I must admit that keeping the forms on made my first ever trance a little
difficult but probably not as difficult as it should have been. My
breathing felt a little laboured as I lied in bed with huge latex boobs
lying on my chest but eventually I stopped noticing them. The reason was
the soothing sound of Mistress Xenthia... she must have used synthesizer
software to add a strange digital quality to her voice but I still felt
her calming presence and the soul of her voice. She sounded wise and yet
very young and there was this definite edge of flirtation in her voice.
Then again I was sure her actual voice sounded very different to this
recording - probably to protect her identity.
She told me to listen to her voice, relax and obey her every word. She
felt dominant over me and I was happy to follow her wishes. I sat there
waiting for the trance to happen, lying peacefully in peach. Her words
felt like they were infiltrating my mind and I just let them and slowly I
began to feel myself listening more to her voice than the actual words.
Suddenly I stopped hearing her voice and picked up on her words telling me
to wake up, to feel refreshed and to enjoy my first steps on her road to
femininity. I glanced down bleary-eyed at the digital readout on my MP3
player to find that it indeed had just finished playing file no.2 - the
one Mistress Xenthia said would bring me out of trance.
I was amazed to find that I couldn't remember anything about the trance
except going into it and coming out of it. I tried to discern what had
changed but my confused mind realized that nothing had changed. I shook
myself into reality and concluded that even Mistress Xenthia couldn't
change me into a woman with one file - that's why I was supposed to listen
to this file every night for four weeks in total, I figured.
I thought about listening to the file again but it was getting late. I'd
read somewhere on Mistress Xenthia's site that it was bad to listen to the
files when you couldn't concentrate and I was beginning to feel my eyelids
getting heavy. I rose up out of the warm cocoon of my single bed and
stretched my weary limbs, letting out a long yawn as I did. I spotted my
ankle boots lying against my chair and slipped them gingerly on my feet. I
stumbled towards the mirror, wanting one last look at my femme reflection,
and I liked what I saw.
My large oval eyes gleamed under the enhancement of perfectly applied
mascara and pink eyeliner and surveyed my high cheekbones coated
frivolously in blush. My light eyebrows, which I would have preferred to
have been a bit more arched, raised as my eyes smiled with my own smile,
my thick and delicious lips looking radiant as my grin struggled to
contain itself. I felt a pang of cuteness as I took my face in whole and
admired my soft, round and feminine features. I pressed my nose with my
forefinger and let out a little 'meep' to myself, giggling inside as I
remembered how Louise loved to push down on it and say 'meep' because she
thought I had the cutest button nose.
Usually I hated my button nose and thought it made me look piggy but not
today. Today I was floating on light and fluffy air as I looked down at my
38C latex forms that gave my body a very delectable curve that many girls
would kill for. The pink teddy framed my 29 inch waist well and whilst my
hips weren't dynamite at 32 inches I still had a curve to my body. When I
was all-out with my crossdressing I'd managed to get my waist down to a
stunning 25 inches which would become wasp-like in a corset. Now a corset
could just get me back to 25 inches... I'd really let myself go since
Louise left. Depression, I thought, could really be a bitch. I put that
thought to one side and turned to my side as I admired my J-Lo butt. It
was full, round, feminine and completely my own and it was smooth as a
baby's bottom today, freshly-shaved, plump, firm and juicy.
I wiggled it and watched my butt jiggle seductively. Louise had always
said that my bum was my most feminine feature and she was probably not
wrong. Tight jeans and my butt were best friends. I managed to peel my
eyes away from my peaches to once again play to my own ego and admire my
pins coated in pink stockings. My legs weren't as toned as they used to be
but they were still fabulous, long and very sexy. Having said that I had
always felt it was very hard not to have good legs.. I'd seen plenty of
guys when playing sports and thought, 'with a good razor I could make your
legs look stunning in fishnets'.
I pondered that thought and decided to stick to one thing at a time -
let's get feminized rather than get others feminized. I chuckled out loud
as I swivelled on my heels and pranced towards my bathroom. It was time to
get ready for bed so I washed off my make-up. With the mask of foundation,
lip-liner, mascara and so-on my face definitely looked like it belonged to
a girl. However without my mask I looked somewhere between genders. I
think the best way to describe it would be to say with me ( not made-up)
the best way to guess my gender at that time was to see which clothes I
was wearing - t-shirt and jeans = Dan, blouse and skirt = Danni. The other
way, of course, was to get underneath my jeans/skirt and see my rather
modest penis poking from underneath my pants/panties. I guess I got my
mother's face and avoided my dad's adept prowess at growing body hair and
as such I'm this in-between creature. As I watched myself cascade water
onto my cheeks I found myself thinking I was probably a perfect candidate
for hypnosis...
'5 foot 7, 10 stone (well okay 147 pounds so a bit over), very cute
features, likes crossdressing, looks convincing and moves like a sex
goddess'. I shook off that bemusing thought and tried to concentrate on
cleaning myself. I thought about having a shower but I felt like sleeping
in my teddy that night. I wasn't sure whether it was the hypnosis or just
my anticipation of things to come but I was feeling really good about
myself. In fact I was feeling really good about the hypnosis too.
If only I knew better.
I woke up the next morning after having what I felt was a really good
dream. The frustrating thing about dreams is that no matter how much you
tell yourself you'll remember it as you feel yourself waking up the mind
lets it all slip away. And another thing that is simply unexplainable is
when a good feeling can just melt away all thanks to one little thing.
As I made my way groggily into the bathroom I noted to myself that I was
still wearing my pink ensemble. When I examined myself further in the
mirror, this morning I didn't like what I saw. My hair flopped messily
over my face, without make-up and with the beginnings of v light (but
still noticeable) stubble I didn't look very 'Sara' at all. And everything
started to look 'not very Sara' - my shoulders looked broad, my chest
undeveloped and laughable in the tightness of the teddy, my waist looked
podgy and was nowhere close to how it had been not so long ago, my bum
looked huge and my legs looked flabby. And, of course, my button nose
looked piggy. I felt a wave of depression staring at myself and a huge
regret for having listened to the file last night. I wondered what I had
been expecting from it - to become a woman?
'Look at yourself', I mumbled out loud to myself, 'you look guy in drag
dressed for a comedic bubblegum advert. Get a grip'.
I practically threw the clothes off myself, showered quickly, cleaning the
stench of tranny off myself, and got dressed miserably into a t-shirt,
boxers and shorts. The May weather was gradually getting warmer and even
with a completely smooth body I was feeling the heat in my apartment.
Living alone, I thought, has its perks but right now I could do with a
friend. This wasn't how it was meant to be: I was supposed to be feeling
fresh, fantastic and feminine after Mistress Xenthia's hypnosis. All I
felt like was a failure, a pervert and a joke. My day off work had become
a nightmare.
I slumped sadly into my office chair and swivelled to face my computer. I
loaded it up and the beep signifying my metal box stirring into action
pierced the depressing and lonely silence of my morning. As the monitor
whirred, clicked and fizzed into action I did what all of us have done in
our time on this Earth at some point. I thought about how I could waste my
time on the Internet.
I have plenty of ways of wasting my time on the Internet usually which
I've already described - chatrooms, personals, pictures, porn, naughty
stories and so on. Sadly all of these had one common denominator - they
were all to do with Sara.
And on that day that was not the best of ideas. I browsed around a few
gaming sites, thought about cheering myself up with a DVD spree on EBay
(but remembered I wasn't that well off), read a few of the BBC news
articles and did some online quizzes. Amazingly this mind-melting activity
took up a good three hours. I leaned back in my economy chair and thought
about how to waste my time next. I lurched forward, turned off the Queens
of the Stone Age song I was listening to and turned on my Neverworld game.
Neverworld was one of the many massively-multiplayer online games going
around at the time. These games had hundreds of thousands of people from
all over the world who used them to get away from the humdrum everyday
bore that was real life. And at the moment I was one of those people - I
entered in my username (mimiru_sign) and password (iwantboobs) and the
familiar, dramatic trance-esque music boomed out of the speakers. This
game was set in a futuristic world where humankind was plagued in a war
against alien invaders. It wasn't very realistic but it was fun and highly
addictive. And one of the other kinks was that, of course, I could play as
a girl.
My character was called Mimiru in homage to the character from the popular
Japanese dot hack anime series. That character was a loud, fun and
sprightly teenage girl's character in a massively-multiplayer online game
who dressed revealingly but fought powerfully. I'd based my Mimiru on her
- however the original Mimiru was in a world that, like most RPGs, had a
Tolkien feel about it. The outfit (which along with Mimiru came out in
admirably high detail thanks to my unnecessarily powerful graphics card)
I'd chosen for my Mimiru was more accustomed to her world where the dress
sense was more fetishistic with elements of gothic influence (very similar
to the Matrix movie series). Her jet black hair fell over a face so full
of digital perfection that I loved and envied, her ridiculously large
chest (it's a game mostly played by men) was barely held in place by a red
halter top that exposed her equally ludicrous tiny waist. Her curvaceous
butt was framed in a very tight pair of cropped red jeans that showed off
her taste in designer footwear. She was sexy and as much as Neverworld was
just a game I loved being her.
Running around Neverworld and strutting my stuff over the last year or so
had allowed me to make a lot of online friends in the game. As far as they
were concerned I was a girl playing as a girl - I think the way I acted
and reacted probably made them think they were dealing with a gg (genuine
girl). It was nice, in many ways, to not have to worry about how I looked,
whether I passed and so on and to just be considered a girl and that was
one of the main reasons I came back to this game so often. As opposed to
the chatrooms and the personals and the forums and the clubs where I was
Sara the crossdresser here I was Mimiru the girl. It was a wonderful
feeling - to just be a girl.
When I was with Louise I could walk into anywhere and feel wonderfully
convincing as a girl. She gave me confidence and with her help I passed
really well. I could even go into lingerie shops, speak softly (my voice
needs a little work), and the salesgirls would not even blink. At first I
thought it was just because they were well-trained but Louise started
pointing out to me the guys admiring me. Even then it took some time
before I believed they were staring at me because of my body and not
because I was really a man. That meant a lot to me, maybe more than it
should have... to pass as a real girl. When Louise left gradually my
confidence left too... and the current Sara Louise Freeman was intimidated
by the high street and the casual looks of the passer-by, even if those
looks and her looks hadn't changed superficially. Deep down, I believed,
they were seeing through my disguise.
So now Neverworld was my high street and Mimiru was the one who passed.
How sad.
I slipped out of the conscious coma that is online gaming when my mobile
phone vibrated noisily on my desk. It was Eddie, my best friend from
school who I'd try to meet up with a couple of times each month if
possible, asking if I wanted to meet up for a drink later. I very much
wanted to meet up for quite a few drinks.
A few hours later and the two of us were knocking them back in some
hellhole of a pub in Colliers Wood. Eddie, like all of my friends, didn't
know about Sara. As I sipped sickly on my third pint I wondered if I could
afford to lose friends like Eddie. I watched him as he talked at length
about work, sex, the two worlds colliding and so on. He was a gentle man
but definitely a man and definitely one of those men that girls adored. He
had good English looks; refined, handsome and with a definite edge of
mystery in his large blue eyes. He took a long swig of his pint and even
then in hardly the most attractive pose, with his neck gulping noticeably,
his eyes clutched tightly shut and his cheeks going a bright red, he still
looked fantastic. I wondered silently, as I often did when I looked at
Eddie, whether if I looked that good as a guy would I dress as a girl.
"You know what?" he whispered in his private schoolboy accent, "it's all
about the dreams, my friend. It's all about the dreams".
I stared at him when he said that... I hadn't really been listening too
attentively to what he'd been saying before then being just happy for the
company and for someone to supervise me as I drowned my sorrows. But I
focused now and wondered what made him say that. I'd just finished that
third very delicious lager and I was definitely getting a bit tipsy; hence
why I eventually worked out that Eddie didn't in fact know something he
shouldn't. I sometimes wished that he did as I'd often wondered what his
response would be. I thought that he would probably me one of my very few
friends to accept me. He'd been there for me so much since school. He'd
been my friend through the endless bullying I suffered when I started out
at my secondary school and been there when I lost Louise.
But I was a coward.
"What makes you say that?" I asked trying to regain focus on the present.
"Because, Mike", Eddie Bright said, being one of the few people I'd allow
to call me Mike, "if you follow your dreams you'll be happy. Actually the
truth is that if you don't follow your dreams you won't be happy. Whatever
the fuck happens when you follow your dreams... mate even if it goes wrong
at least you know you've tried"
"So," I tried to interrupt, which was like trying to stop a freight train
with a water pistol.
"Listen Mike. I got Melissa to sleep with me because I went for it. I
could have sat around that bar wondering whether she was as fucking
gorgeous underneath that red dress as she was in it. But I wouldn't have
ever found it if I hadn't bought her a drink. Or two", he chuckled, "The
point is that she dug me and I dug her. That simple."
I wasn't sure of his point then and I didn't think he was either. However
there was something to be said for Eddie's attitude to life. He wouldn't
have been so successful in the city if it wasn't for his "live for the
dream" attitude.
"But that's your life Eddie," I sighed, thinking about getting another
pint despite the ever-growing heaviness in my stomach, "and that's great
for you. But my dreams are impossible. My dreams are whimsical."
"Your dream, your number one dream, is to be a successful actor. Isn't
it?" he asked.
"Yes," I lied. I wasn't about to tell him about Sara because I was
certainly not that drunk.
"Well then go for it. Fuck worrying. You're depressed, you've lost Louise
and you have nothing to shoot for at that place you work. Fuck it. Go be a
poof. Act, my friend, act!"
I chuckled a little under my breath but I was crying a little inside.
Eddie didn't understand, I thought, and he would never understand that my
dream was impossible.
"No dream is impossible," he said before patting me on the shoulder and
announcing that he would be 'going for a piss'. My friend, it seemed, was
psychic.
When I got home, not too long after Eddie's mind-reading, I sat quietly in
my chair. I swivelled to face 'Sara's closet' where all things that
weren't 'Michael's' lived. My dreams... my dreams were filled with
Mistress Xenthia, with being a beautiful woman made by her and enjoying
being me. I wanted to be a woman and I wanted it very badly.
I threw off my grey shirt, took off my jeans and my boxers, walked over to
my closet and put on a pair of my black wet-look PVC panties. And then I
picked up my MP3 player, I slipped on my headphones and I listened to
Mistress Xenthia's digital dreams.
Over the next week I listened to Apolla twice each day; once in the
morning (I didn't have to be at work until 10.30) and once in the early
evening. Every time I listened to the files I would awake up refreshed,
calm and quite happy. I found that I could faintly remember very obscure
things about the hypnosis but nothing in particular. I had a very strong
memory of a red balloon waking up one time and another time it was of an
ice cream cone. However I couldn't seem to pin-point what was they meant,
what was going on with the files and what changes they were making to me.
I began to find myself falling into trance a little earlier and I was even
beginning to look forward to hearing Mistress Xenthia's voice and falling
into her subconscious clutches.
One morning after having listened to the now routinal hypnosis I was
getting ready for work. I placed down my toothbrush on the sink after
taking a glance at my shiny whites and speed-walked over to my closet to
take out that pair of wetlook panties I'd worn last week. As I slipped
them over my thighs to sit snugly over my hips I mentally stepped back and
took note of the situation. I was wearing panties to work. I never did
this before, having openly disliked the idea of letting my male and female
worlds collide. However as I stood there with my dick beginning to poke a
little against the PVC lining of my underwear I didn't feel that
disgusted. It didn't feel all that wrong - in fact it felt a little bit
more right than the boxers or briefs that were lying in my chest of
drawers. I stood there, turning and staring at my J-Lo butt in the mirror
and liking what I saw. I liked how it felt. I glanced at my watch... 10.02
... I was going to be late and there was no time to worry about this now.
I quickly put on a shirt, tie and a suit and rushed out the door.
At work I couldn't stop thinking about my secret underneath. I wasn't
stupid and realised it probably had something to do with the hypnosis. It
seemed a very specific thing to do though, and I could not stop wondering
what it meant was going on in my head. I started thinking about going on
to Mistress Xenthia's site and finding out once and for all what she was
doing to me but I quelled my fears and told myself that would take the fun
away from it. There was no denying, however, that it felt good to be
wearing panties to work that day. I felt like it was very normal, in fact,
and it felt like something that I had been doing all my life. Whilst I
realized mentally that something was very different, instinctively I
didn't notice it at all. This was the case when dressed completely as Sara
but I'd never let the worlds of Sara and Mike collide. It must, I thought,
be the work of Mistress Xenthia.
Kimberley, a secretary working at my company who I considered a friend,
walked over to my reception as she would sometimes do and asked me how I
was doing. I smiled nervously (Kimberley was very pretty and had very full
lips that I very much wanted to kiss every time she walked over to me) and
told her that I was doing fine. As she walked away I let my right hand
slip down the counter and knocked over a pen I'd been using to write down
the details of recent visitors. I bent down to pick it up the floor and
alarmingly realised that if it wasn't for the security of my reception
desk my naughty little knickers would be completely on display. I told
myself that if this was going to continue I was going to have to be a bit
more conscious of exposing my secret until I was ready. As I got up I
picked up my suit jacket, slipped it on and told myself that for a little
while it and me would not be parted. I needed some kind of barrier between
prying eyes and my feminine-clad bottom.
That night I slept my 'slut-amas' which were lemon-coloured PJs that
consisted of a tiny-little t-shirt that exposed my midriff when I wore
forms underneath (which I was doing) and cute little shorts that were only
a few inches away from being called panties. I called them slut-amas
because they were way too slutty to be called pyjamas!
I drifted off to sleep quite quickly (in fact a little bit quicker than
usual) and fell into a deep dream. In the dream I was about eight or nine
years old and unlike in any dreams I'd had previously I was a girl. I
should rephrase that: I'd been a girl in my dreams before, of course, but
never as a child. I was aware that I was wearing a pink dress and that
underneath my pink dress I had little pink panties. I was also aware of
long blonde hair (which I was never allowed as a child) and that I had
Mary-Janes on my tiny little feet. I ran over to another girl who sitting
up against a very large tree and playing with her dolly. I sat down beside
her and she handed me the doll. It was a Barbie doll and she was wearing a
cheerleader's costume.
The girl sitting next to me held my hand and said, "When I grow up I want
to be a cheerleader just like my sister. She's so cool and pretty!"
With that she got up and pulled me up too and started jumping and waving
her arms, trying to mimic a cheerleader. I felt this surge of emotion, of
dreamy happiness, and I started to jump and throw my arms and legs about
too.
"S!" I cheered in a very airy but very cute little girl's voice, "A! R! A!
Gooo Sara!"
I finished with the perfect splits and started to laugh out loud and so
did the girl I was cheering with... I felt wonderful in the open air with
the breeze blowing against my dress and my hair fluttering over my eyes.
But most of all I could pinpoint a feeling of normality... a feeling very
similar to the one I'd felt with my panties on underneath my suit.
And when I woke up I realized that Mistress Xenthia had definitely entered
my head.
(To be continued in Chapter 3: Helen...)
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