The Blossoming Of A Jasmine free porn video

Author's notes: Well, 'bout time I got back on the fic writing scene, isn't it? This work is a not a big departure for me in one sense (M to BBW transformations are still the soup de jour), but I wanted to take a shot at doing a different type of transformation story, moving a bit away from dwelling on the physical aspects of the change, and going more into a longer mental/identity transformation process. It's still meant to be more of a work of erotica than anything else, so I'm not trying to write the "Great American TG/WG Novel" here (wonder how THAT'D go over?!), so don't think TOO hard; just enjoy :-) For anyone who's curious, I DO have more ideas and stories in the works for the "Big Changes" series; but beyond life being already tough to schedule around, I'm also a notorious procrastinator. Rest assured, though, it will continue, and I'll hopefully have a couple spinoffs to go along with it. All in due time. 'Til then, enjoy, and, as always, feedback's appreciated. The Blossoming of a Jasmine I'm no misogynist. Let's get that out of the way first. But you'll have to excuse me if my admiration of the female form sometimes gets me in a bit of trouble. Now, I'm not one of those creepy guys standing on a corner, scoping out each girl who walks by, eyeing them up and down shamelessly; nor have I ever really been reprimanded for gazing at a particular beauty who catches my attention. I just find the female form to be beautiful, artistic, a sort of human ideal. Ergo, there are times now and then when I find myself looking over a woman, admiring perhaps the curve of her hips, the strain of her bra on her breasts, the way her tight clothing fits over her form, or even just the way her nose turns up slightly in a cute little button-style. But there are certainly times when I can tell that my cover has been blown. Again, I've never been reprimanded, but every guy knows these times: when a girl quickly turns her head, and sees you looking before you can turn away, stuff like that. It's particularly dangerous if it's a girl who's hanging around her boyfriend. And, the thing is, I feel bad when I get caught! Not just because my cover's been blown, but because I hate feeling like I'm making someone uncomfortable like that. I just can't help it! And it's all shapes and sizes, too; tall and well built, short and "pixie"-like, toned or chubby, apple or pear, in short-shorts, or black stretch pants...you get the picture. But, hey, as the wise man said, "I yam what I yam"; it was a habit I just couldn't shake, and, honestly, at the end of the day, I wasn't hurting anyone; hell, maybe some ladies took it as a compliment that I found them so attractive, who knows? Regardless, I tried to console myself with the idea that there are far, far worse things you can do to a person then admiring their black-tights-and-miniskirt enclosed thighs while riding the train for a little while. It was with this in mind that I entered my 3pm US history lecture. This one was a veritable buffet of female body-types; thin, but curvy girls in short denim skirts and sandals, ethnic looking girls, who's nationality's all affected their body-types differently, the whole nine yards. But I couldn't deny that one woman in particular held my attention while I was busy ignoring the prof give his lecture on the Hawley-Smoot Tariff. Now, like I said, I admire many female body-shapes...but that means I also don't exclude "big girls". And this...was a big girl. Her name was Jessica; Jessica DePhilppes. I had learned that early on in the course. I also knew she was in her mid twenties, obviously back at school to finish up a degree or something, and the rings on her fingers indicated she was somebody's wife. But her name and background weren't what interested me; it was her physical attributes that held me enthralled. She was the epitome of "woman"; long, black hair, Hispanic features, a face as strikingly and exotically beautiful as I had ever seen. Her skin, from her face, to her bare arms, to her exposed calves, was tanned, and utterly flawless, smooth as a baby's. Sometimes she would wear glasses to class, and I'd debate with myself if she was sexier with or without them; tough call! Her body...oh Lord, what a body! Her thick, round arms were at the sides of her wide, luscious breasts, two huge orbs that rested nicely atop a rounded gut that strained the very fabric she wore over it just as much as her bountiful breasts did. When she swiveled, I could see the part of her back where the bra she wore pressed so temptingly against her flabby flesh, pushing it in, making folds all along the length of her sides, down to her enormous love handles. And that ass...there are no words to describe it. To give an idea: I'd say about half of it fit into the lecture hall chair she was seated in. Ok, perhaps a mild exaggeration, but it's sheer size, roundness, and the way it would flow out of the sides of the desk...I couldn't resist a stare. And once you noticed her ass, it wouldn't take long to also notice her legs. Her thighs were perfection; I could tell they rubbed together, no matter if she was walking, standing, or sitting. Her calves were shaped beautifully, just enough curve and size to grab your attention, but delicate enough that they could only belong to a beautiful woman. To complete it all, her tiny feet, just as smooth and glorious as the rest of her, rested contently atop two open-faced hemp-style sandals, which, by no accident, had heels that added a nice three or four inches to her frame. I sighed as I gazed at her, the object of my lusting. I would have given anything to experience feeling her smooth skin, losing myself in the voluptuousness of her body. I figured she had to be about 5'3'' without heels, and my best guess at her weight was something like 250 pounds; but I didn't care. That chest, that shelf of a rear, those legs, that skin...she made lecture SO much easier to deal with. So you could guess my heart skipped a beat the day she spoke with me. The prof had let us out early, and I was ready to scamper out as fast as I could, get back to my apartment, and get ready for maybe a nice trip to one of the nearby bars. My single-mindedness on the matter occupied my thoughts, so I almost jumped out of my skin when I felt a hand on my shoulder, stopping ne. "Excuse me, Mark, is it?" I turned quickly, and, right on cue, my heart skipped a beat. "Um, yeah, hi, Jessica, right?" Duh, of course I knew her name...better to play dumb. Her face was mostly expressionless. "Could I talk to you for a minute? Somewhere private?" Uh oh. This could mean one of two things. Either I was about to become the happiest man on campus, or I was about to get chewed right the fuck out for being a sexist, voyeuristic pig of a man. Better to not arouse suspicion, though. "S...sure thing." We walked to a corner of the building the lecture hall was in, and I finally calmed my nerves enough to get a good look at her; simply stunning. Her outfit was somewhat conservative, a long sleeve, non-button yellow blouse, and a white skirt that went to her knees, but with the way the clothing strained against her curves, it could almost be construed as intentionally provocative by some. Her hair was done up, curly strands of it falling playfully around, with some over her forehead. Her glasses really accentuated that look, almost a "hot for teacher" look, but she took them off as she began talking to me. That wasn't good; that lead me to believe this was going to be a serious talk, which is definitely not what I wanted. "Mark," she began, "I'm not going to say this all angry or anything, but I definitely need to say it." I gulped. "I know you've been ogling me during class. You can't hide it all the time, and I caught on pretty quickly. The thing is," She took a step closer to me; I could keep my eyes off her plump, kissable lips as they moved, closer and closer, until they were right next to my ear, her voice coming out in a high pitched, breathy whisper. "I like that." My eyes went wide, and my pants got just a bit tighter. Was I dreaming this? I couldn't take my eyes from her as she put her finger on my chest, lightly tracing something, teasing me. "You wanna go grab a bite to eat somewhere?" Nope, not a dream, thank God. * * * She had changed into a new outfit for dinner; a one-piece black and white striped dress with a deep neckline, exposing plenty of that mountainous cleavage As with all of her outfits, the middle of it strained against the bulge of her gut, as well as her crotch area, hips, and ass. She wore an unbuttoned, undersized black sweater/jacket over it, and matching white pumps completed the ensemble. I couldn't have been more excited. We were at a pretty nice Spanish restaurant, maybe a teeny-bit out of my price range, but, hey, I had a job, and a case like this called for some splurging. Jessica, true to her body shape, certainly indulged herself; not gorging herself by any means, but she had no reservations about the meat she ate, or the desserts that came later. By the end, we were both very content, and both had very wide grins out our faces. After finishing up the check, she wasted no time; she reached over slowly, took my hand in her's, and began, once more, to trace little nonsense shapes on it, teasing me again. I could feel that she didn't have her wedding ring on, which, let's face it, would excite any red- blooded man. Once more, she looked me straight in the eye. "My husband's out of town for the next week or so with business, and it gets a little lonely in my room sometimes. You think you can lend me a hand?" She spoke with all the innocence of a little girl who's nightlight had broken. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what my answer was. Within the hour, we were at her home across town, tearing one another's clothes off, and going hard at it on her king-sized bed. It was incredible; everything I had dreamed it to be, and more. Her mouth was expert, bringing me intense orgasms, and it wasn't long before I found her riding atop of me, her massive thighs straddling me, her nude form sending my mind into a whirl. She bounced atop my rock-hard erection, causing every single part of her anatomy to jiggle with soft, wonderful, erotic fat; her chest, her hips, her arms, her legs, everything. Her moans filled the air, her pleasure becoming one with mine as she reached orgasm again, and again, and again. Something had definitely come over me; it wasn't just the fact that she had a female form that was attracting me at this moment...I was incredibly into her body fat! It mesmerized me! I worshipped it, tracing my tongue across her body, teasing her sensitive spots, spending ample amounts of attention on her chest, hugging, caressing, and squeezing her as if I had never seen a body like this before; like I said, it was all a dream come true. Well, it WAS; but not for long. Stretching back on the bed, breathing heavily, I was all set to just drift off to sleep; but Jessica, a radiant smile illuminating her beautiful face, began to get up. "Don't worry, stud," she began, "I've just got a surprise for you outside. Wait here, ok?" I was in no mood to argue anything; standing up, she threw on a t-shirt over her nude form, and strode out into the hallway. With the brief silence, I was able to take in my surroundings for the first time without my libido numbing my other senses. Damn, this house was pretty big! Whatever it was Jessica's husband did, whatever it was that had him traveling this week, it had to pay well; the master bedroom was spacious, the walls finely adorned, the whole area nicely decorated. And once Jessica finished up with her degree, whatever she was going for, the place would probably only get nicer. My train of thought derailed as the door slowly opened. There my goddess stood in the doorway, her t-shirt doing a poor job of obscuring her "sensitive areas", the smile still wide on her face. "Mark, babe, I want you to meet someone." My heart jumped. Did she have a girlfriend? She moved aside, and as a tall figure filled the doorway, my heart instantly sank. "This is my husband, Derek." I was shocked speechless. What the hell was she doing? Why did she lie to me about that? Was I prepared to run off naked through the streets with an angry man chasing me? And why the HELL would she be smiling after her husband's caught her cheating with a college student?! So imagine my surprise when the first thing out of Derek's mouth was a full-bodied laugh. "Oh, honey, how could you?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You know how I get sometimes, lover." She responded, pressing her voluptuous body close to his tall, thin one, as he snaked an arm around her generous waist. I tried to form a sentence. "Wha-...what's going on here? Who are you people?" Turning to each other, they both began to laugh, before turning right back to me. The both walked over to the bed, on either side of me; I tried to jump up and dart out of the room, but Derek's arm reached out, shoving me back down. I fought as hard as I could, thrashing and flailing, but the next thing I felt was Jessica pulling my arm back to the bedpost, before SNAP! The cold metal of a pair of handcuffs came down tightly on my wrist. I was screwed, and I knew it; Derek did the same thing to my other wrist, and, soon enough, I was prone and vulnerable, unable to fight my way out. Both of them filled my vision as I lay, terrified out of my mind. Jessica spoke first. "You weren't a bad lay, Mark; nothing I've never felt before, but not bad. But we're going to reward you; you're about to get everything you've ever lusted after. I've seen you worshipping my body for months now, and I could tell how hard just the sight of me made you cum tonight, so we're going to do a couple of very special things for you." I couldn't muster an answer, but it was a moot point, anyway; the next thing I felt was a syringe going into my arm, followed by almost immediate darkness. * * * Not surprisingly, when I awoke however many minutes, hours, or days (how should I know?) later, I was quite sore. I was also uncomfortable, but it seemed that had more to do with the ropes that were around me right now, leaving me bound to a chair, as well as the piece of cloth in my mouth, prohibiting me from speaking. Just as they were the last thing I saw when I was put under, Jessica and Derek sat on a loveseat in the living room, directly in front of me...the first things to fill my vision as my eyes opened. Jessica now had a few more articles of clothing on, including a skin-tight pair of black pants. It sounds odd to say, but even tied down and coming out of a drug-induced sleep, I still couldn't help but find her insanely attractive; the way she sat, her breasts resting easily atop her gut, her wide hips splayed out...God, maybe I do have a problem. "Good morning, sleepyhead!" beamed Jessica. Derek smiled, as well. "Well, today is the start of a brand new life for you, my friend. By the way, look down." Not seeing an alternative, I did...and immediately let out a muffled shriek of surprise. A shriek? It made sense. The first thing staring back at me as I looked down was a round, bra-enclosed pair of breasts. I could suddenly begin to feel the longer hair on my head, hair reaching to my shoulders; I could hear my voice moaning, it's pitch so much higher, devoid of masculinity. What had these psycho's done to me? Derek seemed to be enjoying my discomfort. "Well, I could explain the scientific why's and where-for's of what we've done to you, but I'd rather have Jessie here explain the personal why's." Jessica leaned forward a bit, holding a mirror in her hands. "Mark, hun, like I told you before, I've known how much you've been ogling me, and for how long. Most women have a knack for telling when they're being scoped out. But I was being honest with you before; it didn't bother me, not personally. But, well, I have a funny desire; even though you didn't personally offend me, and what you did really wasn't all that much different from what most men do to women they find attractive, well, I just can't help this, but I get off to seeing normal, mostly innocent people getting caught doing something slightly wrong...and facing a consequence for it. You know, naughty schoolgirl flirts a bit too much, well-meaning guy stares at a hot girl for a few seconds too long, stuff like that. I'm not some crazy dominatrix or anything, but, like I said, it just gets me off. I know that might make me sound like a bad person, but, really, I guess I just can't help it." The entire time she spoke, the devious looking smile never left her face. "You ogled me to the point where I could feel your eyes on me the entire class-time. I could tell you lusted after me; I could tell you obsessed over my body." She ran her hands over her gigantic chest, down along the sides of her wide, jiggling belly. "I can't say I blame you, right baby?" she said, turning towards her husband. Derek responded with a quick kiss, and a soft rub at the crotch area on her pants, eliciting a soft moan from his wife. "So, what I'm going to do is make you face some consequences for your actions. Don't worry, though; not all consequences are bad! See, I know you worship my body, so I'm going to give you the honor and pleasure of serving me and my hubby for the rest of your life, as our loyal maid." I let out another muffled moan, not liking where this was going. "But that's not all, sweetie!" she slowly held up the mirror. "What do you see?" It took a few moments, but my brain processed something that sent a chill down my spine. "That's right, Mark. Thanks to the process we used on you, you're now a perfect double of me. Of course, you're a good deal thinner, since your male body was pretty slim, but we've got plans for that." She was absolutely right. The same nose, the same lips, the eyes, hair, everything...except my features were definitely thinner, less rounded, without that hint of a double chin Jessica had. Derek looked me square in the eye. "You're already so beautiful; you look just like Jessica did when I first met her back in school. In case you're wondering, you've got a nice, full, B, close to C-cup chest, and you're current measurements are 32-22-38 We even have you at just about what Jessica's weight was when she first went to college, about 135 pounds. My baby always did have that sexy pear shape." He gave Jessica a playful poke in her love handles. Jessica looked straight at me once again. "Obviously, there's no use in trying to leave; who'd believe your story? And now that your blood is the same as mine, you are, for all intents and purposes, me. So stick around; for the next while, I'm going to be your teacher, and show you how to do all the little things we expect from you from now on. Don't worry, you're going to love it, I promise. Are you ready?" She was right; I had nowhere to go, nowhere to run, and nobody to turn to who'd think I was sane. My head drooped, but I still managed to nod my reluctant acceptance. "Good." Jessica purred. "We'll begin tomorrow." * * * The first few days were a whirl of cooking lessons, cleaning, laundry, and just about every single other household chore a maid could be asked to perform. Jessica also began teaching me the basics of living as a woman: what to do in the shower, proper hair care, makeup, that kind of cosmetic stuff. We even worked on walking in high heels, choosing properly matching outfits, and, though this kind of scared me, "feminine hygiene". Two things during this time struck me the most, however. First were my outfits: they wanted me to dress like a fantasy maid, so to speak, and it showed. I wore the typical skin-tight black dress with incredibly short skirt, ruffles and lace under it, a white lace tiara on my head, with my legs enclosed with dark nylons and black high heels. But what struck me about that was, by the second day, I found myself spending a lot of time with my clothing as I got dressed into it. My bra and panties seemed to fascinate me; the material was so different from anything I'd ever worn before, and the way they conformed to the shape of my body, hell, the way the shape of my body was now, was enough to interest me for quite awhile each morning. In fact, I spent the better part of 15 minutes wearing my pantyhose, just staring, observing what effect if had on the shape of my womanly thighs. I'd end up running my hands over them, actually feeling strange sensations, as if I were...enjoying them? I tried to block those feelings from my head, but there was one other strange thing that I couldn't escape: Jessica had made it clear to me that Derek, to put it bluntly, loved his girls big, but he also enjoyed watching a girl go from small, petite, and fit to big, round, and obese. In fact, when Jessica first went to college, she was a 120 pound cheerleader and soon to be sorority girl, very sporty, very active, and aiming for a degree in psychology; one semester in, though, she met Derek. They didn't start dating for awhile yet, but almost the moment she met him, her weight gain began. 20 pounds in, she was off the cheer squad; another 15, and she was done with the sorority. And when they began dating in earnest, she put on a whopping 50(!) pounds, dropped out, and married Derek. The guy must've been pretty damn persuasive. She had kept on growing ever since. Since I was to be their mutual fantasy for the rest of my life, I was almost immediately put on a "training regiment"; nothing huge, but my dinner's were obviously filled with generous portions, not unlike what Jessica would eat each night. Jessica would laugh sometimes, pointing out that, soon enough, once I got my lessons down, I'd be able to cook my own fattening meals. Hoo boy, I could feel the joy. Much as I couldn't forgive what she had done to me, at least Jessica was mostly friendly to me, almost treating me like I was her little clone- sister or something. Derek was another matter. Sometimes, like when I was doing something I didn't need help learning about, like washing the dishes after a meal, I could feel Derek's eyes on me behind my back, just like what Jessica said it felt like when I did it to her; except, unlike her, I wasn't comfortable with it at all. I just knew he would be sitting there in his soft chair in the main room, looking towards the kitchen, his eyes fixated on my legs, admiring their shape, wanting to take a feel of the soft material I wore over them...and thinking about how it'd look in a few months once they began to pack some pounds on me. I hated him for it; this wasn't just being a guy and scoping out a girl I was here against my will, changed against my will, and now served them against my will. I wasn't a maid...I was a slave! And he had the nerve to objectify me like that! But what could I do? A few days after my first week there, he walked past me in the hallway as I dusted some furniture; I was wearing my designated outfit for the day, which included an even tighter maid's outfit (this one was skin-tight all over, with no frills or lace in the skirt) and a set of dark silk fishnet stockings. My garter belt was out for everyone to see. Seeing my back was to him, he reached out and shamelessly pinched my ass. "HEY!" I yelped with a start. Before I could even turn around to face him, I felt his arm snake around my waist, wrapping around my stomach, his hand coming to rest gently on my belly, stroking me like a pet. He leaned in and whispered to me, "You're already coming along; I can see that little pudge starting to puff out of you. You're making me so hard just looking at you; but we haven't even really begun! You were just learning basics this week; your real new life begins very soon...very soon, indeed." I tried to struggle against him. "Let me go. Now. I don't know why you're doing this-" Ugh, it was useless. Since I was, afterall, Jessica's perfect double, that meant that was all of 5'3'' without heels, and against his tall, six-foot-plus frame, I didn't stand a chance. Besides, even if I did hit him or something, it's not like I'd be able to run away, and it would probably just make him angry. He laughed, and leaned even closer. "Oh come now, it's not that bad, is it? Look at what we're giving you: you've got a huge house to live in, absolutely free of charge. You've got a free, and extensive, wardrobe, your own room, food is provided, and all the amenities that a nice measure of wealth brings." His voice got lower. "I've seen you standing around sometimes, moments you think nobody's looking; I can see you rubbing a hand across your breasts, or teasing your new pussy. I know you're fascinated by your new clothes; go on, don't be ashamed, they feel so nice, don't they?" God, I hated him...but he was right. Now that my skin was so smooth and sensitive, all this skintight stuff, the nylon, silk, satin, even normal cotton...just wearing clothes was almost an exhilarating experience, certainly something I had never known as a man. Having never even dabbled or holding any interest in crossdressing before my involuntary transgender experience, it had taken me a few days to adjust to wearing panties, especially the kind that ride up into a woman's ass, but, ashamed though I may have been, I had already begun to grow not just used to it...but fond of it. And the house; there was no getting around it, I was given any and everything I needed. I thought of my bedroom, a big place, lovely furnishing, and a state of the art bathroom attached to it. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't taken advantage of the large hot-tub in there yet. But at what cost? Oh, nothing big, just my manhood, and my freedom. God, this sucked. He spoke to me again, "Jessica and I are watching you very closely every day. We're both very proud of you so far, but make no mistake, my budding flower; she may be your friend, but she and I have the exact same goals in mind for you." He squeezed my sides a little, eliciting, against my will, a gasp from me. "Wha-what do you mean?" He chuckled a bit. "You'll know soon enough. Suffice it to say, you'll be like no other maid this neighborhood has ever seen. And, I assure you, you'll learn to love us, and the life we've given you," he slowly began moving his hands towards my pussy, "I'll even see to it myself." I was almost shivering, but I managed to push him off before he reached my most sensitive new part. I turned to face him, anger and hatred in my eyes...but he just gave me the widest, most condescending smile I've ever seen. I turned back, picked up my duster, and stormed off. There was nothing else I could do. * * * Week two had started much like week one had, but it didn't take long before I saw what the next phase of my "conditioning" was. Jessica and Derek usually left the house while I was doing my morning chores, after I had made them breakfast, obviously (I was beginning to get better at that already), leaving me alone for most of the day to take care of things, but also to just relax, watch TV, read, surf the web, things like that. I couldn't work out; if these people had a gym in this giant house, they certainly hid it well. While I was cleaning off the table one morning, I noticed something: a plain white box, wrapped in some thin string. I immediately recognized it as a box from a bakery, clearly somewhere nearby. Under the string was a folded over piece of paper; it read: Hi, Little Flower! (they had taken to calling my some variation of that now and then) Thought you might be hungry after all the hard work you did for us this morning; I know I would be! So please, take this as a gift of thanks from the both of us. We're so proud of how well you're doing, keep it up! I expect nothing less than an empty box by the time I get home. Huges and Kisses! Your Master and Mistress God, how patronizing! And what was she talking about, "hungry"? I had eaten my own breakfast after I made theirs', she knew that. Still, curiosity ended up getting the best of me, plus, I wasn't in the mood to find out if there were any "consequences" for not following an order like this one, no matter how nicely it was written. Cutting the string, I slowly opened the box...and instantly regretted doing so. It was seemingly a "best of" from the local bakery. Three chocolate iced donuts, all very big; several cream puffs and cannoli's, as well as an even bigger assortment of different cream filled treats (they're probably the most fattening kind, I concluded), plus a few cookies to top it all off. Derek's words came back to me, that stuff about having "not even begun"; it was clear that they had no desire to wait for me to reach their desired size, and Jess had put up a massive mountain of sugar, carbs, and fat to start me down the road. I have to admit, eating the cream puffs was suddenly much more pleasurable for me now than it was as a guy...maybe that whole stereotype about women and sweets like that had some merit after all. I did my best with it, but my stomach wasn't used to such high quantities of sweets all at once; I liked pastry stuff well enough as a guy, but this was ridiculous! When it was finally all gone, I had a bit of a distended tummy, and all the energy of a three-toed sloth; I ended up crashing in front of the TV on the leather couch for most of the day in an attempt to recover. I couldn't help but think that that was the idea. By the time I finally begun preparing dinner and Jessica got home, there was an empty box, alright...but a very full maid. She walked up and put a friendly hand on my shoulder; I could feel the bulge of her stomach pressed against my slimmer side. "Did you enjoy the little breakfast I left you, Flower? I see it's all gone, so it must've been pretty nice!" I gave her a withering look, but mustered some manners. "Please...please don't make me do that again." She put a finger to my lips. "Ah, ah, ah! What do we say?" I sighed; I can never remember feeling so defeated. "Please, 'Mistress'." I didn't really try to share my sarcasm. "Much better!" she bounced a bit and giggled; how had I never noticed how much she acted like an air-head, and how did she hide it so well? "Oh, come on, no need to watch your girlish figure around here, hun." I didn't crack a smile. She looked a bit concerned. "That not it, huh? I don't suppose you DIDN'T enjoy it, did you?" I just nodded, not wanting to go through with the whole 'Mistress' thing again, with a look that said "NO, DUH!" She ran her hand slowly across the upper part of my back, like she was consoling me. "Babe, it's ok...it looks like I forgot one vital aspect of your conditioning! Honestly, how stupid of me; how could I forget to teach you one of the most important things you'll need to know around here?' I turned around to face her, a sense of dread beginning to stir in me. "It's so simple; you never learned to relate food, and eating...with pleasure." "Huh?" "Oh, I'm sure you enjoy eating; everybody does! But you probably never got your mind to draw a straight line from how good eating makes you feel, to what sheer pleasure makes you feel like. Tell you what; I'm going to go out and buy a few more snacks. Meet me in your bedroom at nine o' clock, so you have enough time to clean up after dinner." She leaned in and lightly licked the side of my smooth face. "I'll make sure you learn your biggest lesson yet." She may have changed my gender. She may have patronized me. She may have all but enslaved me. But I'll be damned if I didn't want to start this lesson right away. * * * Dinner felt like it was taking forever; I finally had something to look forward to in my time here, an erotic evening with the woman who had transformed me, but I still had to finish cooking, set the table, clean it off, start the dishwasher before I could even think of going upstairs. They both invited me to join them at the dinner table this night, something they'd done a few times, mostly to give me left-handed compliments and comments on my "progress"; this night, though, as I picked at the plate of steak and mashed potato's laying in front of me, something was different. When I'd bring my fork to my mouth, I could feel something come up onto my calve. It was Jessica; whenever she saw me take a forkful, her foot would make it's way towards mine, and begin rubbing it's way up. It made me nervous; was this a trick? Were they luring me into doing something, and being made to pay for it? My fears only died down a bit when I noticed Derek looking at his wife, before chuckling a bit under his breath; sure looked like he was ok with it, I guess. That said, Jessica's words from before stuck with me...associating food, and eating, specifically, with pleasure. Was this part of her lesson? I needed to find out. Once dinner ended, I was a blur, picking up numerous plates, utensils, and glasses at once, going about cleaning them, loading them into the washer, and getting coffee ready for the others. When I was finally done, I went through with one of the practices I absolutely despised; having to go in front of either Derek or Jessica and asked to be excused for the night. Derek gave me permission...so long as I did a polite curtsy for him. I didn't think about it, though; I had a nice surprise waiting for me upstairs, so I could put up with some annoyances for the moment. Even though I was moving slowly, I could feel my heart skipping a bit as I made my way up the stairs to my bedroom. Crazy as it sounds, like I said, no matter what Jessica might have done to me, or how weird she might be, I still thought she was an incredibly beautiful woman, and, in all honesty, the sex I had with her was probably the best of my life. I didn't need to like this woman to know that I could still enjoy fucking her. I began to reach for the doorknob, thinking to myself. 'Well...I would fuck her, but I guess that might be hard with my new equipment...' I froze as another notion dawned on me. In the couple weeks I had been their maid, I only realized now that, outside of a few soft brushes with my fingernails, or an experimenting touch while changing in the morning, I hadn't really, well, "inspected my plumbing" yet. I suppose part of it was just being scared of what I'd feel; I knew it'd be something alien, something I never was able to feel before, and the fear of the unknown stuck with me all through those two weeks. Now I was about to have Jessica teach me a lesson in sex and pleasure...no experimenting on my own first, no preparation...just diving in headlong. I took a deep breath, turned the knob, and entered. And I immediately stopped short. There she was, lying on my bed, as if she had been there all day waiting for me. She wore a sheer black robe, obviously meant more for decoration than for practical use. Under it, her thick, curvy, pear-shaped body strained the fabric of a black bodice, one that hugged each and every curve enticingly, so tight, it appeared to be another layer of skin. Her legs were a vision in nylon, wide, womanly, and alluring. She stretched out, laying on her side, allowing her hips and ass to make a dramatic climb towards the heavens as she rested on an elbow, looking directly at me. "Hey babe," she began, her voice soft, sultry, and smooth. "It's time for your lesson of the night. Now," she reached behind her with her free arm, "let me show you your learning materials." She gestured towards herself, then towards me. "My body, yours, and," she pulled her arm back, revealing another bakery box, dangling by her fingers from it's string, "these." All at once, I felt excited, but queasy. I could barely eat the box she had left me before, after breakfast; now, maybe just twelve hours or so later, with a full dinner in my stomach, I was going to have to go through those? She giggled, and seemed to be reading my mind. "Don't be afraid, silly; I'll give you a hand with these treats this time. What's more important tonight is that you learn your lesson. Now, be a good girl and undress for your Mistress." Now this would be interesting. I was scared to death to reveal my female body to her; she would be the first person I willingly showed it to. But I just repeated to myself over and over, 'She's gorgeous, she's hot, and she wants you. Just go for it!' And go for it I did. Hesitantly, I sat myself down on the bed, my nude form partially visible in the dark room thanks to some moonlight from the window. Jessica looked enthralled, and began running a soft, delicate hand across my body, tracing from my shoulder, to my chest, down to my thighs. "How often do people get a chance to really fuck themselves?" she asked, laughing a bit. "Ok hun, I'll start. I want you to take one of the puffs out of this box, and feed it to me. Not stuff it in my mouth; play with me a bit. Do it slowly, lovingly. I'll show you what to do." I reached over, grabbing one covered in powdered sugar. Slowly, I brought my own delicate hand towards her lips, lightly grasping the pastry, and slowly slid the first half of it into her waiting mouth. As she began to take a bite, I noticed her hand beginning to travel, stopping right on her exposed cleavage. As she bit down, she began slowly tracing circles on the exposed flesh, teasing and tickling herself. When she took the second half in her mouth, her teasing moved over to her fabric-enclosed nipple, which she touched, eliciting a slight moan in her throat as she simultaneously chewed the creamy dessert. She looked back at me when she finished. "Now, that was a simplistic way of doing it. But it's a good way to start. Now, let me do you." She took another puff out, this one not covered in anything. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, waiting for it...and then felt something totally unexpected. She made her way towards my mouth, but, at the last second, pulled the treat back, and instead began slowly and lightly tracing more little circles, this time around my exposed areola. The touch was light, feather-light, but enough to make me suck in a sharp breath, my hyper-sensitive skin sending shockwaves to my mind. "Isn't it just wonderful, my little flower?" She finally brought it closer to my mouth. "Remember, keep your eyes closed..." I did as I was told; when I began to take a bit, I now felt something else on my chest; Jessica's tongue. Again drawing in air, while also trying to bite and chew, my mind again reeled at the electric sensations that fired off in it as she began to stimulate me. Her lips followed, dabbing soft kissed on my nipples; my shock and excitement soon faded a bit. My eyes fell halfway, as if I were in a daze. I chewed, my eyes shutting fully, and leaned my head back, allowing myself to moan as she slowly, softly teased me, never once getting too rough, never ruining the experience, like I would have if I were still a guy, in bed with a beautiful girl. I felt my crotch begin to moisten, my arousal causing it to begin making it's lubricating juices; it would have shocked me more, but thanks to my morning admiration sessions in front of the mirror, I had grown, well, maybe not accustomed to the feeling, but I was definitely no longer afraid of it. I found myself lying down, as Jessica brought another sweet to my mouth. I didn't even care what it was; I was too stimulated to think too much about details like that. This time, as I bit in, she brushed her perfectly manicured nails along my incredibly sensitive pussy; she didn't penetrate, as I had feared, but sent more sensations into my head, like the ones the teasing of my breasts had given me, but multiplied. Oh God...God, that's what just lightly touching it felt like? "Flower...babe, give me another now." She was definitely enjoying this, maybe as much as I was. "This time, do to my pussy what I did to yours." As so I did; I was in no mood for resistance. Jessica's moans as I continued to arouse her were wonderful; they seemed as if they came from her stomach, gaining strength, up to her throat, and finally to her vocal chords, not always loud, but always full-bodied, passionate, and very real. I couldn't help but comment. "You sound so sexy, Jess. Holy shit, you're turning me on." Not stopping her revelry, she opened her eyes, looking straight at me. "Mistress. Call me Mistress, especially when we're here." My heart was pounding. My breathing came a bit ragged thanks to it. "Yeah...yes...Mistress." That still didn't feel right; but I had a LOT more imperative to say it now than I had before. "Excellent," she purred. "That's the idea, my little jasmine. You love my moans, don't you? You love that they mean you've brought me pleasure; that you've done a good job. Don't you feel great? Don't you feel like you could do anything?" I couldn't even speak. She smiled at me. "Here. Lie back. Rest your head on the pillow." I obeyed. I saw her get another treat out; a chocolate-dipped strawberry. Waving it around, even teasing the end of it with her expert tongue, she brought it slowly towards my chest. As if it were a marker, she began drawing with it, leaving traces of chocolate around my nipples; once again, the tickling thrilled me, but it was clear she had more in mind. She placed it in my mouth. "Don't chew; suck on it. Use your tongue." I was more than happy to listen. As I enjoyed the semi-sweet taste in my mouth, I let out a very audible, very high-pitched moan as Jessica's mouth came down, surrounding my right nipple, as she began to suck the chocolate she had left there off of me. My back arched; my toes curled, I used my free hand, the one not holding the strawberry in my mouth, to grasp the soft sheets of the bed. My moans went on unabated, her suckling thrilling me, the dark chocolate taste in my mouth exciting me. My senses were already going on overload when I felt one of her hands make its way towards my crotch once again, this time pressing a bit harder into my pink folds. Again, there was no hard penetration; just a soft, but firm caress. But it was still like nothing I had ever felt before. The twin pleasure centers on me, my breasts and my vagina, were both being stimulated...I'm sure almost all women have felt these things, but, as someone who, up until the last two weeks, had spent nearly two decades as a boy and a man, this kind of pleasure seemed otherworldly. Almost instinctively, my logic and fear of penetration giving way to primal urges, I began to buck my hips ever so slightly, pressing them down, so that her firm caress of my pussy felt even harder. The strawberry muffled a scream from my as she used her teeth to tug at my nipple, stretching it out before letting it go. I was locked into these feelings, my brain drowning out any other kinds of thought. And then she stopped. My breathing was hard, haggard, but I shot straight up, the remnants of a strawberry stem still hanging loosely from my lips. I couldn't even form words; my mind was reeling. What had just happened? And, more importantly, why the hell had she stopped?! She gave me a friendly look, and slowly ran her fingers through my thick, soft hair. "Not just yet. First, you have to do me a favor, jasmine." Jasmine...why did she keep saying that? She reached over behind her; apparently, she had brought more than just food with her. As her hand returned into my line of vision, my eyes went as wide as saucers. In her hand was a big, thick, quite realistic-looking, dildo. My mind instantly raced, fearing that my time was near, when she spoke. "This is for me, babe. This round, I want you to feed me, while using this bad boy on me, as well. And if you do it right, I'll show you your first female orgasm, ok?" I quickly nodded my head; she'd start pleasuring me like she had been before? Clearly, she was building me towards orgasm there, and it had been more wonderful than anything I had ever felt before. I HAD to feel that way again. Throughout our session, her clothes had been slowly but steadily coming off; for this "round", we finally got everything off of her, except for her dark nylons; as I watched, transfixed, as her wide tummy and mammoth mammaries shook and jiggled with each breath she took as she exposed them to the cool air of the room, I knew I couldn't let her down now. The next few minutes saw me doing my best to make sure I did everything right; I chose different flavors of treats for her to try, while alternating the speed of my pumping with the faux-penis. She would raise her nylon-enclosed legs up into the air, wrapping them around me, their sheer and smooth material tickling my back, which caused me to let loose some moans and involuntary giggles more than once. Before too long, Jess' moans were loud and clear as a bell, her orgasms rocking the entire bed. When she finished, she ran her hands over her chest and through her hair, luxuriating in the feelings. I had clearly done my job. Without a word, though, she leaned up, and slowly, gently, slid me down onto my back; it was my turn. My excitement was palpable; I could tell from the look on Jessica's face. She leaned in and whispered to me. "I'm not going to penetrate you with this." I felt immediate relief...and...a pang of regret? What the hell? "Trust me on this: this will be much better for you if you just go along with what I do. Remember, I am your Mistress; just follow what I do, and do what I tell you to. Is that clear, Jasmine?" I decided to ask about the name. "Jasmine, Mistress?" "Yes," I felt the dildo move, until it rested right atop my blossomed womanhood, "when we're here, you are my little Jasmine, my baby sister. Is that alright with you, Jasmine?" I didn't say what was in my head, that, at that moment, she could've called me Abraham Lincoln and I wouldn't have cared. Instead, I opted to just nod, lean back, and finally achieve orgasm. I couldn't help a wise smile as she picked up where she left off; her mouth on my nipples, the sucking, the licking, the nibbling, all driving me wild, with the difference being that I now had the sensation of the dildo sliding along the entrance of my pussy. True to her word, she never penetrated me; but the pleasure I nonetheless felt was amazing. My moans were beginning to turn into words. I found that, without even thinking, my mouth was just moving, whatever was on the tip of my tongue just spilling out, my voice breathy and undeniably feminine. "Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod, oh fuck, oh fuck, faster, please, faster!" She laughed. "Please what?" "Please, faster...Mistress!" She brought her mouth to mine, plunging her tongue in; I immediately returned the favor, darting my tongue out to intertwine with hers. In that moment, I was enthralled; I would've gladly called her anything she wanted me to. She continued like this for a long time...I'll be damned if my brain could really gauge how long. I could hear myself screaming, shouts of "Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yes, Mistress!", "Thank you, Mistress!", even "I love you, my Mistress!", things like that, although it almost seemed distant, as if the sheer pleasure of my orgasm had separated my mind from my body. Now and then, she'd brush along my clit, which REALLY got me loud; needless to say, my first orgasm as a woman was something that I would never, ever forget, not for all eternity. When we finally finished, there was an empty bakery box, a used dildo, and me, my body worn down from the intense pleasure of the evening, not able to put up and kind of fight as I felt my Mist-...Jessica's thick arms wrap around me, and pressing me close to her breast, snuggling me. We kissed one last time, and her smile, despite her exhaustion, still carried a bright radiance as she laid back. "You did wonderfully, Jasmine." She giggled, "Isn't this great? Isn't a woman's pleasure so much better than a man's? It's like our little secret, honey; as much as I love Derek, he could never know how wonderful this feels." Her face turned soft and quiet, her voice becoming a seductive whisper as I began to feel sleep encroaching on the corners of my mind. "My little, growing Jasmine..." * * * When I finally awoke, I was alone. I couldn't fight the sense of confusion that raged in my mind. There was no denying how much I had enjoyed the intense pleasures of the night before; I had experienced a female orgasm, and I can't lie: it felt good. And I wanted to experience it again. But, at the same time, there was still that ever-persistent conflict, my male mind against my female body. I was still in control; but how could I fight the feelings Jessica had given me last night? I never knew how powerful even non-intercourse sexual acts could be for a woman, and she had taken me along as if I were a puppet on strings. But that wouldn't be every night; for the most part, I still had my time to myself, and my own thoughts. I used that to comfort myself as I pulled myself up out of bed. As I got up and stretched, I could tell my stomach was still digesting the sweets; my belly puffed out just a tiny bit further than it had yesterday. Making my way over to my dresser, another note caught my eye. Sweet Jasmine, You were fantastic last night! A+ work, girl! I knew you wouldn't let me down, so I took the liberty last night of rearranging your wardrobe before you got up to begin our little "study session". As a reward for doing so well, feel free to wear whatever you like! We simply HAVE to do this again sometime! Your Mistress, xoxo P.S. ? There's a few of those McDonald's breakfast sandwiches, those ones with the hotcake buns, waiting for you downstairs. Eat up! She wasn't lying about the clothes; where once had just been a closet filled with various maid outfits, from long, to short, to long sleeve, to short sleeve, to what amounted to lingerie, I now saw a whole assortment of clothes, all colors and styles, from the most basic jeans, t-shirts, and sweaters to overly ornate and feminine skirts, dressed, even a couple of gowns! This was great news! After all these weeks of dressing as their little wet dream, I could finally just dress casually, and get back into a pair of jeans! After I showered, I couldn't wait for the relief to rush over me as I snagged a pair of cotton, non-decorative panties, some regular style jeans, sneakers-... Wait. Where's the relief? I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked perfectly normal, for a college aged girl; the shirt fit fine, the jeans were snug but not too tight, all very comfortable. But why did I feel like something was missing? It finally dawned on me. Oh God...I had begun to completely enjoy my more girly outfits. I couldn't lie to myself; the satin panties I had worn some days excited me, as did the bras. The tights, the stockings, the pantyhose, the various other undergarments...I had grown fond of them. Even the thongs they had put into my drawers lately; I just felt, I don't know, wrong without one! That night, I knew Derek got home when I heard him give a short laugh. There I stood, right in the hallway, dressed exactly how I never though I would be given a free choice. My hair was done up in a pony tail. A tight, black miniskirt wrapped around my wide hips. A soft, deep green, and very tight sweater conformed to all the curves of my bouncing chest and the slight paunch of my waistline. Knee-high, black leather, three- inch heeled boots adorned my lower extremities, while jewelry...yes, jewelry...adorned both my neck and my wrists. "So, you really ARE beginning to enjoy all of this, aren't you?" I didn't want to hear it from him. I felt lost, confused, and embarrassed, wanting to understand just what it was that made me WANT to dress this way, and while I knew I'd be playing right into his hand, all I wanted to do at that moment was to open up the fridge, grab whatever I could get, and eat my worries away. Ice cream would do the trick. It always does. * * * The pattern went on for months. I would wake up, dress in girly clothes, cook enormous meals, large quantities of which I ate myself in my loneliness and confusion, and wallow in my own self-pity over being myself still in my mind, but not being able to deny many of the urges and sensations of my female form. Speaking of my female form, my months of eating my worries away had really, really begun to show. Each week, it seemed, my clothes grew just a teeny bit tighter, just a little snug at the chest, or digging a bit into my hips ever-so-slightly. Little by little, inch by inch...I was growing outwards. I was falling right into their plan, and not doing a damn thing to stop it. It's not like I could help it; like I said, my mind was constantly in a haze, trying to figure out the true nature of my situation, hell, my own true nature as a person, man OR woman. I'd just end up exasperated, worn down, and almost depressed, which lead to many therapy sessions on the sofa in front of soap operas and daytime TV with Ben and Jerry, among various other snacks of choice. The feeling of something cool and creamy like that going into my stomach when everything else seemed so horrible would bring me relief; eating was my escape, and it soon took on a special meaning for me, easily becoming the central part of my days at the house. When Derek and Jess began allowing me to go into town during the day, for shopping and a bit of leisure time (Jessica liked to "reward" me whenever I did something really good for her, and this was one of the perks granted. Besides, I wasn't about to run away...what would've been the point?), I'd schedule my trips to the stores, the mall, or wherever around where I wanted to get a bite that day or night; like, I'd think of going to the book store, but if I was in the mood for tacos, I'd shun the idea and go to the chain of stores near the Mexican restaurant in town. To make matters worse, I found that I was almost instinctively choosing very showy outfits for these occasional excursions into the outside world, very feminine stuff, tight fabrics, cleavage displaying blouses, heels, the works. They just made me feel...they made me feel so GOOD. I hardly even questioned why anymore. But there were some nights that made me feel better about everything:: the nights I had with Jessica. Yes, we had continued our "sessions" after my lesson on eating and pleasure. She could tell that I had learned it well; my rapidly expanding waistline was irrefutable proof of it. Sometimes we'd play with food, other times not, but each time, she continuously refused to penetrate me with more than an idle finger or so. Nevertheless, my orgasms were just as pleasurable each time, although she'd never want me to have more than one a night, and the erotic feelings I'd get by making her cum were almost enough to match them. And, more and more, I found that the contact of our bodies during these sessions was becoming greater and greater; the simple fact was that I was getting fat, and the fatter I got, the more of me pressed into her. It was as if we were molding into each other, as I became more and more like her with each pound I gained, with every inch added to my dimensions. It didn't bother me, though; as long as I was there, she was my Mistress, and I her little baby sister, Jasmine. On those nights, I wasn't Mark, the innocent, transformed freak with nowhere to turn or run to and forced to work for two spoiled freaks; I wasn't a confused boy, helplessly grasping for answers that weren't there. On those nights, I was Jasmine; I was beautiful, and so were my orgasms. I had even gotten to the point where, if I knew we'd be meeting together that night, I'd spend the afternoons before I cooked dinner just applying makeup, touching up every little detail around my lips, eyes, and nose, wanting to actually look pretty for "Mistress". Of course, as good as those sessions made me feel for the moment, when morning would come, the self-doubt and loathing would return as the truth would hit me like a ton of bricks; aside of when I ate, the only times I was ever happy in this house was when I was with Jessica, being called a girl's name, being pleasured like a girl, GIVING pleasure like a girl, and calling her "Mistress" in the heat of the moment. As Mark...I never got the chance to feel that happy. In our last session, Jessica had laid me down, and thoroughly rubbed my belly, watching its new heftiness jiggle and bounce whenever she pushed, molded, or slapped it. She was also entranced by my rapidly growing tits; like her when she had gained all that weight in college, it was my chest that was taking a large amount of the impact, expanding from borderline C-cup to out-and-out D (or more) in a few short months. She was obviously very happy then, but wanted to just make sure of something. She had me stand on a scale in the bathroom, something I had really neglected doing most of the time, not really wanting to know what had happened to my body. What she had found that night thrilled her. The scale stopped right smack-dab on 200 pounds. I weighed more now than I ever had as a man. She wanted to celebrate, and again rewarded me for the results. Out came a whole box of fudge, which we both devoured (although it seemed I was doing most of the devouring) within a half hour, without even interrupting our love-making. She even gave me another surprise: a few licks of my pussy, which, I almost hate to say, excited me to no end. Of course, I had to return the favor by eating her out to the point of multiple orgasms...but, for now, she was truly my Mistress. And at least I was happy, if just for the night. * * * More months had passed. By now, I had completely ballooned out. When I had hit 200, I really began to notice the serious changes sweeping over me; my face had rounded out a bit, and I could see some flesh bunching together in a sort of mini-double chin on the occasions that I actually smiled. And then there were my much larger breasts, still not really sagging, but the bottoms nestling a bit on the top of my expanding gut, which now flowed over in a soft, pillowy cushion over my crotch, mostly obscuring my pussy from view. I saw my thighs, already shapely, now absolutely massive, wide and jiggly (just like the rest of me), and I could hear the sound as they scraped together whenever I walked, especially when I had heels on; which, granted, was most of the time. My sides had began to gain folds from the fat on my back, leading down to a pair of love handles, leading to a very wide, very tall, very rounded, VERY prominent ass...just like Jessica's. But all those changes; those were nothing now. Once I hit 200, I really finally accepted that there was no going back; Derek and Jess wanted me to go down this road, and by not gaining fast enough (you'd think 80 pounds in a matter of months would be more than enough, right?), I was only prolonging my suffering, more than likely. I knew I was basically giving up, letting them win...but when had there been any doubt of the outcome here? When had I had hope of escaping this with my whole being intact? And so my bad eating habits, as well as my non-existent exercise routines, became even worse in the days following my weight milestone. Portion sizes grew, servings doubled, and my already slowing metabolism seemed to just grind to an absolute halt; I found myself actually doing stuff like drinking cream instead of milk at times, having the excess or leftover gravy when dinner was over, or ordering entire extra-large pizzas for myself, and changing my eating habits so that I was essentially eating six meals a day: a big breakfast, a trip to somewhere like Dunkin Donuts for a dozen of their pastries, a hearty lunch, a midday snack, dinner, and a sweet dessert. Gazing at myself in the mirrors in the house, and looking at the new clothes I now had after my most recent growth spurt, I'd see a more thoroughly developed and approaching double chin, arms that got thicker and less and less toned by the day, and a chest, waist, hips, and ass that just seemed like they'd never stop growing exponentially. I thought I looked a lot like Jessica did the day we first spoke. Jessica thought the same thing. "Honey, I'm curious again; can you get back on the scale for me, please?" I didn't fight, though my voice betrayed my sadness. "Yes, Mistress." Once more, the findings brought a Chesire Cat grin to her face. "Oh, honey, you did it! You weigh as much as I did when you first moved in with us!" I laughed to myself; so, I was right. The verdict? 265 whoppin' pounds. Suffice it to say, I was a big girl. Jessica turned me around, and threw her arms around me, taking me by surprise; her pear-shaped bulk, bigger than mine (she hadn't stopped gaining just because I had started, after all), pressed against my own considerable curves, making it very hard for her to reach all the way around my bountiful form. She stifled a giggle upon realizing it, but didn't let go; she just ran her hands along the softness of the folds on my sides, and seemed like she was really enjoying feeling our two fat forms pressed so tightly together. I knew she felt the same jolt I did as our enormous chests mashed against each other, causing us to both gasp a bit at the same time. "Baby, do you know what this means?" I simply shook my head. "It means you're ready. Just do what your Mistress tells you: wear one of the lingerie sets we bought for you tonight. Put it on around 10pm, and then go into the master bedroom around 10:30. Ooh, I'm so proud of you; you're finally about to fully blossom into the gorgeous Jasmine I know you really are. And, after tonight, I just know you'll have a newfound appreciation for Derek and me. We want this to be extra special for you, I mean it." I had an idea what was in store for me; she had that same voice she'd use whenever she had something special planned for one of our sessions. Tonight would be the night that Jessica would finally use her toys to actually enter my vagina. I was going to learn was it meant to be "filled" and penetrated. And I suppose the occasion was just special enough to warrant using the master bedroom. Derek, that bastard, would probably tape the event or something, like it was my graduation party or something. Still...like I said, here was where I could be happy. And if she thought that this was going to be extra-special for me, I might as well just go along for the ride. At this point, what did I have to lose? * * * I gazed at my corpulent form, shaking my head in disbelief at how much, and how quickly, I had grown. I had listened to Jennifer; I was dressed for a truly romantic evening, complete with a midnight blue corset-style velvet top (though it wasn't a functioning corset, as it did very little to cover up or shrink the wide expanse that was my gut), along with matching midnight blue pumps, stockings, garters, and even forearm-length opera gloves. The back of the corset was bare, exposing the flesh of my back, the folds on the side obvious for all to see. To complete the ensemble, I pulled on a sheer blue robe, untied, of course, but made sure that it didn't obscure the view of my now nearly DDD-cup sized breasts, allowing them to jut out obscenely from my chest, pushed up into a seemingly endless valley of cleavage, with very little in the way of fabric doing much to cover my nipples. I had made sure t