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Our Girls by Vickie Tern We just stood there and watched, proud but also a little envious. They looked so very happy, our two sweet boys, lying there on top of the bed in their "fun room," our converted spare bedroom. Jan's house next door had one just like it so they could keep busy with each other when we were entertaining special friends, but this time it was just us, Janet and me and our two husbands, my "Pussy" and her "Kitty." They lay there altogether at their ease, serenely and completely naked, their eyes closed and their mouths pressed delicately together like two rosebuds kissing, their cute, newly budded breasts with those engorged nipples squeezed tight against each other, also kissing. They were being such lovely girlfriends to each other, each one tugging affectionately on the other's cock as if it were some dainty, fragile thing, now and then stroking its smooth, soft, satiny skin. As if each thought the other's cock was a clit, though a clit miraculously long enough for fucking. In fact both of their clits were stiff and hard as batons and jutting out obscenely for six or seven inches or more. Their hormone regimen hadn't affected them yet, I saw. We'd debated whether to go that far, Janet and I, whether we wanted our dears irreversibly impotent as well as sweetly feminine, but it was hard to decide, so it remained to be seen. Right now it would have been cruel to deprive them of each other's cocks. We no longer needed them, but they certainly found great pleasure and consolation when using them on each other. Their unoccupied hands were flung up on the pillow where their heads and mouths lay nuzzled together, fingers delicately curled. Sweet! They'd gotten themselves new manicures at the salon earlier today, I saw, muted colors this time. Apparently all that girlish giggling I'd overheard this morning when they were dressing had been in anticipation of elaborate beautification for their big event this evening, not just the decent tidying we'd suggested. And were those new hairdos? Yes, they certainly were, and still neat despite all the hours they'd just spent making love to each other. Pussy's was a ragamuffin cut -- adorable, his own idea? Kitty's hair was still long but it had taken a quite decent curl, I saw. It would be high maintenance, but Janet likes long hair on him, she'd told me that often enough. So I knew he hadn't had much choice. He always did whatever she said. Not that he ever had much choice, no more than Pussy had. Bonita had seen to that. They were completely ours now. We didn't even call them by their given names any more -- Keith was 'Pussy' and Daniel "Kitty" and they liked the idea, they were rather charmed by it in fact, so that's what they now called each other. While we were reconditioning them we didn't want them to recall that they were once men. Not until now, tonight. "I do hate to interrupt them, Bets," Janet said. "They look so beautiful. But our dinner reservations are for 8:00 this evening and they haven't even begun to dress. Just look at them and look at the time. They'll need to be very high style tonight. We'll want them really knockout gorgeous when we finally reveal them to themselves. I mean, I want to see Kit so astonished he'll literally have nothing to say. I want him speechless. I don't imagine you'll want to hear anything Pussy has to say either when he sees that he's ... different. We want them so beautiful, so attractive that they can't possibly regret what they've become, and wouldn't dream of changing back." She smiled down on them. "Not that they could." "No, they can't possibly, not any more," I said, as pleased with them as she was. "But, Jan, wait. They look so dear together. Let's give them just another few minutes!" They did look dear, too, our darlings. I loved watching them! Jan agreed with a nod, so we just stood there and looked on, arms still around each other's waists, smiling gently down on our two guys. Our slimmed down, smooth-skinned, rounded out, voluptuous former guys. Something glistening was dribbling down Pussy's bare buttocks, I saw, down those round buns Dr. Hedrick had given him as an extra when she'd liposuctioned his waist to add to his hips. And Kitty's ass also had a shiny trickle between its two globes. Clearly they'd been naughty again, fucking each other's rear ends even though we'd told them not to, told them that today they had to keep themselves clean and pristine. No wonder they looked so happy, our angels. They were all fucked up and out. Oh dear. I'll have to remind Pussy to wear a tampon again when we leave the house, I told myself, I can't risk his staining that $800 gown I borrowed for him to wear this evening. And Jan will need to tell Kitty something too, so he doesn't smear wherever he sits. Was there still time for them to lick each other clean? No, the feel of someone's tongue wriggling in their ass was sure to start them off again. Maybe douche their own semen out of each other? Sure, that of course, why not? They'd love it. Squeezing 'Summer's Eve' into each other's bottoms ought to be routine for them by now anyhow. They'll certainly need to get used to it after tonight. After tonight their exclusive possession of each other ends, because tonight they each get to taste a real man. Neat and immaculate is what we expect of them. That's what girls need to be. At all times. They should know that. Well, even if it was a little inconvenient I was glad they were now fucking each other as a matter of course. It hadn't been easy at first, getting those two tightassed pricks together. It had taken a lot of repeated suggestions, that's what Bonita had told us to call them. And lots of preliminary practice. For months we'd each of us had to fuck our own guy's rear end with dildos to get them used to it, pretending we were getting off and making sure they did. Until eventually the feel of a stiff prick moving in and out of their rears got so routine and so satisfying that they were concentrating entirely on their own pleasurable sensations and were practically unaware of us, that we even existed. A little like in the old days, when we were the ones being fucked but they were so concentrated on their own pleasures that they couldn't give a damn whether we were getting off or not. That's why it worked. When Jan finally told Kitty to push his pecker into Pussy, to pin him to the bed and work it, Kitty thought that would be a good practical joke on Pussy and didn't hesitate. Pussy never guessed it wasn't me as usual, not until Kitty's cum spurted into his guts and he felt the warm stickiness begin to leak out. The look on his face when he glanced over his shoulder and saw it was Kitty riding him, not me, that I was sitting alongside and watching and smiling? Priceless! So he was ready enough to return the favor when Jan ordered Kitty to push his own butt high into the air and wait for an invasion, and I told Pussy he had my permission to fuck Kitty's ass silly, flat into the mattress. Pussy didn't hesitate. It was a kind of revenge, a quid pro quo, and as he thrust his own cock into his buddy Kitty's guts and pumped and pumped and squirted it must have felt doubly sweet, because he was pleasing me -- and pleasing me was his purpose in life, Bonita'd made that clear and he believed it -- and yet at the same time he was fucking the buddy who'd fucked him first. That was months ago. Now, to judge by the panting and shrieking we'd hear when they were alone, they had no problem fucking each other. To each the other was a beautiful girl, because that's what he was. So for each, their heterosexual instincts and their girly training were fully satisfied, confused and blurry but satisfied. Moreover, when each of them treated the other like a beautiful girl, that's what the other felt he was, and he loved it! That's how we'd suggested they should feel, and they did. They were mostly girls as they saw themselves, and they love being girls, though they each retained just a bit of what they once were, horny men on the lookout for a cunt to fuck and always eager to fuck each other. Well, frankly I'm not sure how they conceive their gender now, but whatever they think they are, they do love getting laid, there's no question of that. Both kinds. They love sliding their cocks into each other. And they love feeling slick, thick tubes of hot meat moving inside their assholes and then groins pressed hard against their cheeks, cocks throbbing and squirting, their own desires rising as their own prostates or hot spots or G spots or whatever they are were rubbed and squeezed from the inside out. Again and again. As women or as men they loved it when their sexual tension rose until a need to cum finally overwhelmed them. I couldn't tell whether they loved getting fucked more than they ever loved fucking, but I think so. All the evidence points that way. That's why we think this plan of ours will work. I'm sometimes almost jealous when I see Kitty pumping into Pussy. Pussy goes so utterly out of his mind, grunting and writhing and tossing his head from side to side as if his sheer joy were agony. Getting laid completes him as a woman, he told me afterward. He loved it all. I'd wanted that for him. I'd suggested to him in fact that he should crave all sorts of feminine feelings and whatever gave him those feelings. So of course he did. "It's so natural now to feel a prick inside me," he told me proudly in his new rich high tones. "It's so fulfilling, even before it starts moving. I love it!" I felt so pleased he could say that! He'd been so embarrassed when I'd first glimpsed him being used as a girl and moaning like one and so on, even though I'd assured him immediately that I understood how he felt, that feelings like those were only natural, a big cock is a woman's joy. I'd added, feeling a little daring, that some day maybe "we two girls should go get fucked together." He replied that he'd love doing that. Maybe he meant he'd love laying me, some part of him not yet settled into the notion that he wasn't what he'd once been? But I smiled at him as if he'd agreed for us both to be serviced by two different studs side by side, and I told him I looked forward to it, I was glad he wanted it as much as I did. For a moment he looked puzzled, so I told him not to worry, to sleep on it, two phrases Bonita had given us to put them at their ease when they seemed troubled by anything we asked them to do. It worked. He drifted right off, then seemed not to remember. Still, he had to get used to the idea that he wasn't my man any more, and my husband only in name. So a few days later when Kitty was on top of him and pounding away crotch to crotch, and both of them were groaning and grunting, I brought my then-current boy friend Ralph up to their room and then, well, I'm a little ashamed of it now but I had Ralph fuck me then and there, right alongside them on the very same bed. Pussy saw it all but he was in no position to do anything more than squeal a greeting. If that's what it was -- when Kitty saw what was I was doing he really began to slam that thick cock of his in and out and Pussy's squeals became continuous, running on and on. Ralph got incredibly hot because he thought we were fucking each other alongside two girls making out with a super-realistic dildo, and that really drove him crazy. I mean, he hammered and reamed and swiveled himself to climax inside me three times without pausing to catch his breath! And me? Don't even ask, I lost count. Pussy's pretty face was impassive each time he and Kitty rested between bouts and he lay there watching us. He may have seen he was way out of his league. Or maybe he'd already forgotten he'd once had similar privileges with me. Maybe even forgotten by then that I was still his wife. Whatever, he'd made no moves toward me with his prick since then. Though with his mouth whenever I return home dripping, that's something else again. That's his regular job now, a routine domestic responsibility. After he saw Ralph fucking me there seemed no reason to delay his participation in my other activities, so I insisted on it -- I mean, I suggested to him rather sweetly that he clean me out. He did it of course, and the second or third time he really seemed to enjoy it. I told him that Janet and I wanted our husbands to keep house for us when they were fully trained, to save us the bother, and I suggested it was time for him to begin. I gave him to understand that everything in the house had to be kept neat and tidy at all times. My cunt first and foremost. So that's what he does. He keeps me neat and tidy. He has a wonderful mouth, and he's marvelously thorough. I never want him to feel I don't appreciate it. I never want him to feel deprived of his pleasure in pleasing me. Nor the pleasure in pleasing Kitty. Their mutual intimacies are not only pleasurable for them, they're convenient for us. Jan and I have been next-door neighbors for the longest time, and when we turned our former guys into housekeepers and lovers of each other we made sure they knew that if they worked quickly they could spend hours and hours each day with each other. So they did. They did their work and then devoted their bodies to each other, each week each one a bit more flirtations, a bit more feminine, until now I suspected they were as feminine as they would ever get. They were ready to move on. It became their thing, nearly. Soon after they'd first fucked each other they began looking forward it, and now that's how they relate. For weeks now whenever we'd get together at either of our houses, the first thing they'd do is take each other's hands and lead each other straight upstairs into whichever bedroom was designated their fun room. It was wonderful! They were like two schoolgirls with serious crushes on each other. Sometimes they didn't even come down for dinner, sometimes not until finally Jan was ready to go home, that's how wrapped up they got. And don't even begin to think about what went on during the all-night sleepovers we'd occasionally allow them. Everything but sleep! Jan and I didn't intend it at first, but when we weren't with guys we'd sometimes pass the time with each other. We sort of stumbled into it. At first casually, with quick hugs and casual reassuring kisses, but it did soon get hot, heavy, sweaty, and moany as we found each other's insatiable wet places and then tried to satisfy them. So we never really minded how long the boys took upstairs. When we asked them what in the world they did together in that fun room of theirs, they'd blush and say, "Nothing. We make each other happy." The same thing we did. Fair enough. It wasn't always sex. A lot of the time all they did was play with make-up and try on the dresses and the other girly things they both began accumulating in their closets once we suggested to them that they'd like doing things girls do, because that's what they now were. They practiced being girls, enjoying the novelty of it the way teenagers do. And even when it was sex, it wasn't always fucking. The muscles on their lips and tongues got stronger and more supple, I could tell that whenever Pussy's lips were plastered against my cunny, tongue way in. And Janet reported that Kitty's mouth felt the same way on hers. Obviously they kept their mouths as busy as their assholes when they were alone together. Kitty'd slept over with Pussy last night, and they'd been pleasuring each other ever since returning from the salon where they'd gone to get pretty for tonight. They'd been alone upstairs in the fun room all afternoon, making each other happy until Jan and I had decided that enough was enough and came up to tell them it was getting late, they'd better start getting ready. When we stepped into the room there they were, our two hubbies, lying on the big queen sized bed with their new hairdo's still remarkably in place, both looking just lovely, as pretty as they've ever looked, masturbating each other. We saw they were nearing yet another climax of who knows how many already today -- Bonita had arranged their libidos for quick recoveries of desire, even though Jan and I still weren't sure how we'd use them when they were fully reconditioned. First one and then the other of them began to writhe and then pump his hips into the other's hand, occasionally letting out little needy mewling groan or squeal. It wouldn't be long. "They shouldn't waste it!" I said, suddenly startled. "They can't have much left at this point. And anyhow, look at them, they're on top of a freshly washed bedspread, they'll make a mess! Shouldn't we ... ahh, suggest that at least they ...?" "I guess yes, you're right," Jan said. "We should. But both at the same time, OK?" "No other way," I replied. "They'll get confused if they don't finish together. They've gotten so accustomed to sharing their orgasms, giving and getting them all at once, so now they can't tell them apart. It's a special bonding experience. Pussy confessed to me not long ago that he'd feel guilty when he came before Kitty, so he never does any more. Ready?" Jan nodded, and said aloud, "Kitty honey!" and I followed up immediately with "Pussy, sweet Pussy!" They recognized their names and looked over at us while continuing to masturbate each other. Then together we both said in firm voices, not too loud, not too commanding, more like advising them really, "Listen, sweethearts, listen!" The key words Bonita had provided us. They immediately stopped moving their hands and pelvises and waited. As for months now whenever they heard those words, they were entranced. We had their full attention. "Suck, sweeties! Suck each other!" Jan said. "Suck peeny!" "Suck and lick and swallow cum down into your tum-tum, no need to share it this time," I added. It was always fun to see how they'd respond. Obediently of course, but increasingly we'd been leaving the manner of it to their own discretion, so they'd feel it was their own desires we'd articulated. They were eager for our approval, but they did have their pride after all. Immediately they broke off kissing and tonguing each other's mouths and grappling each other's penises. With a brief grateful glance at us Kitty pivoted his whole body around until his feet instead of his head rested on the pillow. Pussy with his eyes still closed wriggled down on his back until his own feet were well off the foot of the bed and hanging there. They'd repositioned themselves for sixty-nine as deftly as dancers. Good heavens, they'd both gotten pedicures this morning too I saw, and professional jobs at that! Was there no limit to their vanity? Each one head to cock, they each began to lick the other's balls, then to run their lips up and down the hardened pricks thrust into their faces, using a series of repeated delicate kisses. Then they each took the other's into their mouths like lollipops. No way did Pussy's member fit all the way into Kit's mouth. I marveled that Kit still hadn't learned how to deep throat Pussy's long cock yet -- what in the world did they spent their time up here doing, anyway? Well, never mind that. Kit's fat stubby was a perfect fit for Pussy's mouth, which now stretched round and wide and strained to take it all in. His deep pink lips were perfectly painted, I noted as they slid greedily down Kitty's penis and began to purse and suck on the base, as if Kit's cock was a huge nipple and Pussy was a huge nursing baby seeking sustenance from it. Yes, even stretched thin his lips looked as neat and colorful as any cosmetics model's, and as well-shaped. How did mere lipstick survive all that earlier snogging and bussing and smearing, I wondered, and now this, and yet stay so meticulous? I opened my eyes wide when I suddenly realized it wasn't lipstick at all, that it couldn't be -- the minx had gone and gotten a permanent pink stain painted on his mouth. I'd read about that procedure in one of those Glamour Girl magazines he left lying around the house. Probably he'd had his lips done this morning when he'd gotten his nails done, his fingers and toes both, and had his hair re-styled. Kitty's lips were also perfect, I saw when he pulled them off Pussy's prick for a moment, took a deep breath, then resumed sucking while jerking off the lower part that wouldn't fit in his mouth. Kitty had chosen a darker mauve color, probably because he was now a brunette while Pussy had become a streaky blonde. We'd warned them when they were selecting different hair colors that from then on they wouldn't be able to share their make-up. But did they listen? Do any of them ever really listen? Men! Anyhow, Kitty was Jan's problem, so I was less concerned with what he'd had done to himself than what Pussy had done. Permanent make-up would make it harder for him to cope when he came to his senses later tonight and realized what he'd become. I hope he never realized that ultimately I'd suggested all this to him, that he'd only filled in details on his own. That I'd done this to him. A silly thing to worry about. What was I thinking? Permanent lip color would seem to them the least of their problems when they came to themselves and saw how their bodies had been reshaped, their girlish titties and waistlines and their utterly feminine hips and asses. And their babydoll faces with huge imploring eyes and teeny jaws. They'd recognize each other as their old familiar girlfriends of course, even after they remembered who they themselves had been. Then as each one came aware how he felt different, was dressed different, and looked radically different yet strangely familiar in the mirror, only then would each realize who the other one really was. Each would put one and one together and arrive at two. They'd realize all at once that the sexy babes they'd been fucking and sucking for months were their old close buddies. That they'd plumbed and eaten and swallowed each other so often they were now practically the same person. That there was nothing they could do about it, that they were altered, and a done deal is done. That they were both fucked. That was the moment when anything could happen. What we wanted from them eventually was passivity, a resignation and acceptance of their lot that would keep them pliable, willing to do what we wished in exchange for the pleasures they'd been enjoying that were now available to them as women. But their first responses were likely to be anger or depression, maybe both. Maybe it would be a kindness to leave them in their erotic daydream, the gratified femininity they'd inhabited for now what, the better part of a year? More? But Bonita had been quite firm, we must return them to knowledge of themselves, to their own lives. Traumatic or not -- and make no mistake, it would be traumatic -- tonight was the night. Well, we'd cope. If they got hysterical we could always return them to trance states temporarily and then introduce them to their former consciousness again little by little. Bonita preferred for it to be done all at once if possible, so their sudden appalled discovery that they were now women, living as women, their bodies and faces altogether feminine, that for months they'd been having sex with each other as women, Bonita wanted that moment of truth to overwhelm them and crush out altogether any notion or expectation or hope that they could ever again regain their former status as men. She wanted the shock of discovery to reduce them to a blubbering, helpless dependency on us, on our good will, and also to accept the inevitable. Then we'd restore their pride in themselves little by little. They'd want to be whatever we approved, because our approval would be the sole source of their sense of self-worth. Their former overblown male egos would be deflated, collapsed at first sight of their own tits, asses, doe eyes and puffed lips. Maybe last week's hormone implants weren't necessary. But Bonita had told us that some men stop taking their pills when they see what's happened to them, so we'd shifted their oral hormones to placebos just in case. Those implants would maintain their bodies at high hormone levels until their breasts were fully grown and their testicles altogether shriveled, whether they chose to take their pills or not. "If you like, if they want to keep taking their pills, start them on prolactin," Bonita had advised us. "They'll love suckling each other with real milk. Or suckling their boyfriends, if they have any by then. There's nothing more womanly." "You see that?" Jan said with a certain awe as she watched them sucking on each other's peeny. "Hairdo's and fingers and toes, oh my! And permanent color on their lips? Is that eyeliner also permanent do you think? No wonder they took so long at the salon this morning. Men! You send them to a beauty salon for a little freshening up and they act like children in a candy store and want everything!" "Oh, you're too harsh, Jan. It's all still new to them, remember. It's all wonderful to them too I'm sure, being pretty for each other. We wanted them to enjoy it. In fact if you remember, we wanted them to ask to be made beautiful, so we'd know their conversions go deep down and they'd know they'd done it to themselves when they see for the first time what they are. So they'd know who's responsible for it, for some of it anyhow. So they'll know it's true when we tell them they wanted it, all their body and face reshapings. So we won't have to tell them that they learned to want it at Bonita's. That Bonita reconditioned their desires before each of their operations, and then afterward gave them a vague notion that they'd always been this way." Jan was silent. The boys made an occasionally slurping noise but were altogether absorbed with sucking and sliding their lips on each other's cocks. We might as well have been on the moon for all the attention they paid to our conversation. "At least they haven't tried to get their clits shortened on their own," I added. "Bonita warned us that some of her patients do that so they'll fit their bikinis better. They don't even know they still have testicles, the poor dears," I went on. "Though they're sure to notice them after tonight, when we wake them. Bonita said men always check their balls first thing every morning." "I'd have cut Kitty's balls off at the outset, maybe even made him watch it happen." "Oh, Jan, don't pretend to be so cruel. Bonita doesn't advise castration until they ask for it. Which they all do, she says, when it finally sinks in that they'll never again be men so they might as well make their crotches more comfortable and more attractive. All in due time. Anyhow, that permanent makeup won't limit their options any more than Dr. Hedrick's clinic did by reshaping their bodies. I mean, make-up or no make-up, can these darlings ever again walk down a street and be mistaken for men? With those faces and figures? Even if they were to forget altogether how to walk and gesture and move in those wonderfully seductive ways they've learned on their own -- Pussy's so delicate, Kit's so graceful? We never taught them that kind of ladylike behavior, remember. They picked it up on their own during their various little outings, watching how real women move. So gradually we didn't even notice." "Yes," Jan agreed. "That's true. I love the way Kit tosses his head now and then to clear his hair out of his face. He doesn't even know he does it. It's so cute!" "They're more girly than we ever were, by far," I went on. "Who knows how come? Bonita only started them off. Maybe it was all that sex with each other, each eager to attract the other? You've seen it. The way they sway their asses when they walk, and that sly way they look at each other sideways? The way they sort of tuck their thighs in and wriggle whenever they sit down, as if they already have a cock snugged deep into their bottoms for safe keeping?" "I've seen. No problem. We'll remind them that they did it to themselves, and that we only suggested the rest and that they fully agreed. That we gave them what they wanted." "I must say, I like this new look of theirs," I added ruminating. "If it's permanent make-up, I'm glad. Kitty looks sort of sultry now, and Pussy is absolutely smashing. And practical? You see? Their faces are as neat and fresh as when they first stepped out of the salon, and that's despite a whole afternoon they spent up here slurping and rubbing themselves all over each other. Let's just enjoy watching them finish." We fixed our eyes on their entangled bodies. It was fascinating how each head was now bobbing vigorously on the other's crotch, eager to give the other pleasure, and how each set of slim hips began to push into the other's mouth to meet each down stroke! Kit's mouth was filled with most of Pussy's prick while she jerked off the rest. Pussy meanwhile was grasping Kit's buttocks and holding him steady so he could lunge his whole face into Kit's crotch repeatedly, each time burying Kit's whole fat penis in his head. They were like two dancers rhythmically undulating, clasping each other and swallowing each other. How quickly their moaning resumed! And got louder despite being muffled by the very cocks that were causing them to moan. On and on, into a frenzy of sound and motion and moaning. Until all at once they both uttered a high-pitched 'Oooooff!" and each thrust mightily into the other's head and held himself there, Pussy's eyes shut tight and Kitty's bulged wide open as they concentrated their full attention on the swollen, throbbing objects attached to their crotches and plunged into their faces and now squirting jism. They held their whole bodies stiff for the sheer joy of it, each receiving more cum even while still swirling and swallowing the sticky stuff previously pulsed in. We watched their throats swallowing rapidly, their cravings at last satisfied. Could they discriminate the good feeling in their crotches from the good feeling in their throats? I doubted it. Not after this many months of mutual cocksucking. "Mmmmmmmmm," Pussy said finally. Then opened wide and sighed around Kit's thick penis, "Ahhhh!" Not a drop dribbled from the corners of his mouth. Kitty meanwhile lay there exhausted and allowed the upper half of Pussy's softening penis to slip from his mouth. It too bore signs only of saliva. He kissed it once, gratefully. I remembered I'd done that too once, in the early days of our marriage, when Pussy was still a man, before I'd found out what a self-centered, self-righteous bastard I'd married. I wasn't in the slightest jealous now. It was wonderful that they got such satisfaction from loving each other. They both looked so pleased. "They are so VERY dear now!" Jan said spontaneously. "I am so very glad we did this to them! Maybe in time they'll appreciate it too." I nodded, still enjoying the sight of their now-relaxed, recumbent bodies. Naked, their curves fully visible, they looked like Odalisques, like the classical concubines of French painting. Kit especially looked like an Ingres -- he'd gotten full-bodied. His breasts were even hanging down slightly. He'd been eating between meals, plainly, and I suspect Jan had been indulging him too. What was the phrase I'd heard once? Yes, what William Blake admired about his well-fucked wife, 'the lineaments of gratified desire.' They both looked that way now. The lineaments of gratified desire. All fucked out. "Yes," I had to agree with Janet. "Oh, yes. I am glad, absolutely!" And I turned and we hugged each other and we gave each other a single resounding triumphant kiss on the lips. And held it a moment. It was so wonderful! It had all worked out so well! A year ago we'd made them each quit their jobs and 'take an extended vacation so we can reconnect with each other,' that's what we'd told them we wanted when it began. And then driven them together to Bonita's establishment, her country 'Home for Wayward Husbands' for basic training and reshaping, though they thought it would be a vacation resort, right up to the first injections Dr. Hedrick gave them in Bonita's office. After which their thinking became largely irrelevant, altogether compliant to Bonita's "suggestion therapy." And Bonita's "suggestions" along with our own had filled out their lives day and night ever since until they scarcely remembered they'd ever had any other. They'd been reconnected all right. It wasn't that they were altogether different, Bonita told us when we came to pick up our remolded husbands three months later, our two new cute girls. They had vague memories of a former manhood of some sort, but they were unconcerned with them, far more interested in enjoyment of what they were now. We'd decided with Bonita to return them to full knowledge after we'd habituated them thoroughly to their lives as women, after they'd followed our 'suggestions' mindlessly for the long training period that was ending tonight. I watched the two boys idly. They were still where they'd been, facing each other's cocks, arms embracing each other's butts lovingly, contentedly dozing. Jan broke into my thoughts. "I've wondered, Bets. Maybe we should wake them all the way right now, not wait till tonight at the restaurant? It's been what, a month since we even hinted to them that they have old selves down under that they'll need to acknowledge sooner or later. Bonita warned us not to keep them altogether girly for too long in case they forget who they really are and become for good what they think they are now. Lose themselves and never wake up to their former lives because they won't know any more what to wake up to. And if they can't recall what they were they'll end up the shallow bimbos we've made them, and what good would they be then to us?" "They'd still be better than what they were," I commented. "You don't have to tell me that, Bets! I remember what they were. A pair of arrogant, self-centered creeps. Loud, officious, impossible! That's why I wanted them imprisoned for life in the bodies they've got now, to make them into sweet sexy girls, into each other's fucktoys. I wanted to watch them discover their new bodies and be baffled and humiliated and outraged and finally humbled into helplessness when they realize what they now are and will forever remain. I wanted them to know that they are now females, very nearly, the very things they'd once treated with contempt even as they used them for their own pleasure. That for months now they've been each other's scum buckets. Cute little things, true, but only because we decided to keep them. So we decided we wanted them a little ... well, young." "You mean a little schoolgirl slutty, don't you? Yes I guess they are a little young. Were we ever that innocent? Maybe, once. But you are hard on them, Jan. They're girls now, and a lot like any other girls. Remember only a month ago, how sweet they were that evening we sent them on their first night out, that movies and ice cream date we set up with those two young interns from my office. How busy they were deciding together what skirts to wear, how they giggled for days about what they'd done with the boys in the park afterward? They were just like real girls! The way they compared notes on french kissing and on getting felt up? And your Kitty confessing he actually gave his date a blow job!" "Yes. Well, Bets, imagine how they'd feel if we woke them this minute, still tangled in each other's bodies, the taste of each other's spunk still in their mouths. I bet it'd drive them both mad! I think we should!" "No, Jan, please, don't be vindictive. Our purpose is to make them fit to live with, not to avenge ourselves. Remember? Right now we want them just the way they are. So they'll dress in the gorgeous gowns we've gotten for them and anticipate a nice time and behave like reasonably civilized young women being taken out to dinner. They sort of know who they were even now, remember, in a vague way. That's been in the protocol all along. It's just that it doesn't matter to them, they don't believe it or they don't care. They prefer being women at the moment, and they certainly look like women now, so they simply ignore such vague notions the way they somehow don't register what their clits, their beloved penises signify. Once we're well inside the restaurant and seated and surrounded by people we'll bring them back and let them look around. The way we agreed. Maybe one at a time, a little at a time." "I don't know, Bets. That's always seemed a little risky to me. They were both of them such stubborn shits in the old days. Kitty -- I mean when he was Daniel -- even raised his fist to me once, and he meant to use it, too. And Keith? They were such self-righteous tyrants we couldn't stand living with them one more day. You remember how we both cried when we first broke down and confessed to each other that our marriages were nightmares? How we hated ourselves for not noticing what cheating liars our ex-boyfriends really were, how we marveled that we'd been so blind as to marry them in the first place? How we'd never realized they were old frat buddies who'd agreed to marry us for our money and use us as housekeepers and an occasional convenient lay. Who never once meant a word they said about loving and honoring and cherishing and forsaking all others and all that? How that became the bond of our friendship." I agreed, nodding solemnly. It had been an awful time. And not that long ago. "I mean, there was your Keith, convinced that he's always right, never wrong, with his contempt for anyone else's opinion, especially any woman's opinion, no need to listen to you or to anyone else for that matter. And there was Daniel with that mean streak he thinks is playful but he uses so cruelly, so spitefully, especially on people who are too vulnerable to fight back. That bully. And in the middle of this there was his secretary Hannah in tears, she'd just gotten engaged and yet Daniel was insisting he'd screw her whenever he felt like it same as always, and was threatening to ruin her reputation if she didn't let him. HER reputation, think of that! And we looked into it and found out that he and Keith had already intimidated and blackmailed half the women in their offices into sex with them. And your innocent-faced Keith denied it to your face when you confronted him?" I couldn't reply to Janet. I just swallowed hard. "Well, those rotten men are still inside our girly darlings, somewhere under those pretty doll-faces and budding boobs and delighted giggles. What if right there in the restaurant they become those men again? Think what they'd do. It could become dangerous!" "Yes!" I said. "I'm looking forward to it! That'll be real fun if it happens! I even hope it does! Because in a restaurant what can they do? Stab us to death with their french manicures?" "Bets! You're feeling malicious after all? You really must remember what you're always reminding me, that all this is for their own good!" "For their own good? Oh, I see, you're teasing me now! Jan, don't worry. They won't go wild, not the way we've got it planned. We'll wait for the main course and then wake one, let him see what's happened to the other, then the other, each one by stages. That way they'll realize they're each just as bad off. Then we'll let them both know they're both of them sexpots no man will ever take seriously except as sexpots. It's true, they could make a scene and attract attention and accuse us of all sorts of treacheries, all of them true. But who'd believe them? Everyone will assume they're drunk when we hustle them toward the door." Our guys were quiet now -- I think Pussy may have been dozing, his head cradled on Kit's thigh. Kit was quiet, lying there with his eyes open, gazing affectionately past Pussy's gently rounded belly and budding tits at his pretty face. They were so peaceful, so serene. So very dear! Not a trace anywhere of that coarse, red-blotched skin they'd both had when we'd first visited them at Bonita's and found them freshly depillated and wearing sleeveless low-necked blouses, sleepwalking but clumsily trying to thrust their flat chests forward. Months of body cremes and lotions and estrogen compounds had made their skin ivory smooth, perfect, from their coiffed foreheads to their pedicured toes. They were such dainty, delicious snacks now -- any man could rub or lick or stroke or suck them anywhere on those curvy silken bodies and think himself blessed. It's probably a great pleasure for them, I was thinking, simply to lie like that against each other. Feeling each other's bodies. Lying on warm velvet pillows of soft flesh. I'd try it myself with Pussy some time if tonight turned out well. If it turned out he was humble and grateful and properly reconciled to his new station in life. "Granted, they could make a scene," Jan replied laconically. "I know, that's what the restaurant locale is for. Also why we want those bruisers Scott and Jeff to join us as their dates, one of the reasons why anyhow. To help keep things quiet. But I can't help it, I'd like to see them rage, I really would! I want to see their faces turn bright red as they split blood vessels with apoplexy! Kit's face certainly, so I can laugh at it!" "I know how you feel, Janet. I know. But why should they turn on us? What's to resent? They're beautiful. I mean they've had all that carving done, their jaws and brow lines and so on, and their lower rib removals have given them such marvelous curves -- most women would kill for figures like theirs, they must know it! And also, we've given them each other. Has any wife ever done more for a husband? We even left them their wee-wees. If anything they've got more ways to enjoy those things of theirs than ever. Look how they just used them with each other! And their titties are a big plus for them too, now, to judge by the way they play with them all day, their own and each other's. It's practically obscene the way they grope each other's nipples. And their breasts are still only half-grown -- imagine what they'll be like when they're fully developed, heavy, so they've got to wear bras to contain all that breast flesh, to gather it up and push it way forward practically into the next county. The way we asked Dr. Hedrick to design them. They should thank us!" "Bets, never underestimate a man's reaction to any challenge to his manhood. They won't think they've improved their status in life by becoming gorgeous dishes. Rather the reverse, they'll think of themselves as emasculated, betrayed, demoted. That's all. No longer rulers of the universe. And that'll enrage them, and when they learn we're responsible it'll infuriate them." "Maybe your Kit. Not my Pussy. I hope not Pussy. Not when he finds that even though he's almost altogether a woman, his wife loves him that way. That she wants him to be her very own woman forever instead of what he had been, every other woman's man." "Oh, honey, you're such a romantic! Sure, they'll settle for being women, maybe. Eventually. They'll have to, sooner or later, or else go mad. But it'll take them a while. Even your Pussy. Any man. First there'll be a certain confusion, bewilderment. Then maybe horror at what they've lost, what they've become, then maybe fury when they figure we did it." "All the more reason for it to happen in a public place. And don't underestimate what we've done to them. It isn't that bad! As memories of their last months with each other crowd in maybe they'll feel a certain sneaky perverse satisfaction that after all, they are what they are. They'll remember how they've enjoyed themselves. That'll be consoling, and consolation leads to acceptance. Remember, we've given them loads of delicious girlhood experiences, and they've given themselves lots more even though mostly with each other. Remember what Bonita said, they may well end up be ashamed to admit that they've enjoyed what they've done and ashamed that they wouldn't have wanted it any other way." "Maybe, Bets. You're probably right. I suspect eventually they will feel consoled. I mean, look at them, they're walking wet dreams! And they aren't such assholes that they won't eventually accept the inevitable. No, I guess you're right, stick to the plan. Wake them in a crowded place where everyone's on their best behavior, so that fact inhibits their first reactions. So when they find themselves dressed to look like women and in a public place, their first concern will be to try to look and act as womanly as possible, so they won't look ridiculous as men. They'll need to deal with that first of all. And only then with how they got there, that's when they'll get angry. But by then they'll be with Scott and Jeff, and Scott and Jeff'll deal with it. Then and afterward. They're the experts. Bonita said they're her best!" "I can certainly vouch for Jeff. Oh yes. He was one of the men Bonita sent to the house to keep me company while Pussy was getting his mind and body reshaped." "Bets! You and Jeff? That hunk? That colossal piece of man? You never told me!" "Janet, enough talk. We really must get them up and into their baths -- look, even though he's half-asleep Pussy's beginning to nuzzle Kit again. He needs to discover there're other things out there waiting for him in this wide, wide world. Other cocks, lots of other cocks. And we want them ready well in advance, so they'll have time to do our make-up for us after they do their own. They get such pleasure from prettying us up when we're going on a date. Then we'll all four of us be ready when Scott and Jeff arrive." "Do you really want them to do our make-up? I mean, we'll need to look nice too, and they really aren't very good at it yet in spite of those certificates from that Beauty College. A three week course isn't nearly long enough." "You're too severe, Jan. They'll expect it. They'll be disappointed if we don't ask them. Besides. they've been told that taking care of our needs is their most important job from now on. I'll want Pussy to change the sheets and make the bed here too, he'll need to leave this place in perfect order so he can feel proud when he comes back and looks at it with new eyes. I do want him to continue to take care of the house for me, you know, once he's reconciled to his life here." "Of course, Bets," Jan agreed. "I hope for the same. Before I brought Kit over yesterday I made sure he'd done everything around the house that needed doing. Made the beds, got the kitchen counters glowing. Even rinsed out my undies from my last weekend with Craig -- some of them had gotten so messy and dried out they were hopelessly stuck together. " "Oh, Janet, you are so wicked! Do you think that was fair to Kitty? I mean, before your divorce is final?" Janet grinned at me. "Unlike you, I'm not concerned with 'fair.' Unlike you fucking Ralph while Kitty is fucking Pussy, I wasn't trying to impress him, to make him aware of his inadequacies. It was a test. A trial run. He did it. So I turned around and signed him to a full service contract to keep doing it. He's agreed to stay on as my personal maid for a full year, starting tomorrow. My lawyer says it's ironclad because he signed it as Daniel, not as Kitty, in front of a Notary as well as a witness who asked him repeatedly if this was what he really wanted. He's mine now. So I don't intend to let him slacken off on anything. Craig and I mean to get married next month when the divorce finally comes through, so he'll just have to get used to it. He'll be happy enough. If he wants to and it helps him feel better about Craig replacing him, I'll let him suck Craig's cock. Craig's agreed, and I won't mind, I'll even encourage it. Then too there'll always his steady girlfriend Pussy. And I'm sure that after tonight with Scott he'll find himself other boyfriends to spend time with on his days off." "Janet! Kitty will always know he was once your husband! He'll know that Craig is sleeping in what was once his bed!" "So? He's already made up that same bed after Craig and I have spent the night in it. Quite often. It'll only be more of the same. But if he wants to break his contract and go be a maid for someone else, fine. I won't mind. Of course then he might not be able to repay his signing bonus, not without going out on the street and cruising all the bars. I gave him cash, and the silly ditz immediately went out and blew it all on dresses and jewelry. That's Kitty! Anyhow, he'll be a servant, and I'm not concerned with what the servants think as long as they do their work properly." "I don't know. I've feel uneasy about Pussy watching when I bring a man home. Except for that time with Ralph, I usually send him over to your place to spend the night with Kitty." "Oh, Bets, you're so silly. They don't mind. They don't even think about it any more. They have each other. But mainly, they'll be women themselves, so they'll understand how things are with us. Scott and Jeff will see to it that after tonight they'll know how attractive real men can be, how big men built like slabs can be much more fun to sleep with than soft little girls, even soft little girls with plump penises. They'll know that big men don't just wriggle, they ram. That big men can keep a girl's mouth fastened to their cocks for as long as they choose, so it's always best to submit to them right off. To enjoy submitting to them and then learn how to use them." That was true as far as it went. But there were men inside our girls, and we were planning to let them out tonight after nearly a year, hoping they'd look around and then surrender to the women they'd become. I looked worried. "Cheer up, Bets. When the boys are finished glaring at us, or whatever they'll do, Scott and Jeff will take them off to a motel for their final re-orientation and fuck them stupid. That'll be our gift to them, to their fulfilled womanhood. Then they won't ever be able to call themselves husbands again, not without twisting themselves silly, the idea will be so humiliating." I must have looked concerned, because she added, "And remember, Craig and who did he tell me, oh yes, that gorgeous tennis buddy of his, Conrad someone, they'll be joining us at the restaurant after the boys leave, and then we'll have some good fun on our own. In the morning they'll be girls and will return to us confirmed as women by repeated invasion by rock hard cocks, not by those soft leftovers they push into each other these days. They'll be reconciled to what they are. Maybe even delighted to be what they are. Probably, if it's true that as Bonita once said, Jeff or Scott can make any woman glad she's a woman once he gets into her." It was true, at least for Jeff when he did me. I could hope the same for Pussy too. "Janet, if you're so sure he'll want to stay, why did you make Kitty sign a service contract with you? Remember what Bonita emphasized -- that when they wake up and go through the cycle -- shock, denial, bargaining, depression, acceptance -- they'll know they can never go back. That way deep down they'll believe that their deepest happiness is in making us happy. That all men are programmed that way to some extent and they've been reinforced to believe it absolutely. That's why they're so obedient to us. Even after they know they were once men and that we changed them, they'll want to please us. They won't be able to help themselves. And that won't change. Even if they hate us they'll do what we tell them. I'm looking forward to it with Pussy." "It was a whim, Bets. Kitty was a businessman, he respects contracts. And it'll establish a formal relationship when we've married and Craig's the master of the house. He may not want to give Craig a blow job the first time Craig asks him and I'm not home to tell him to do it, for example. Though I know for fact that afterward, once he's wrapped his lips around that cock he won't mind at all. Craig is delicious. "Well, once Pussy gets Jeff into his ass he'll be ready for anyone else, I know that for a fact too. But why a contract?" "Mainly to be sure he continues to do the other things maids do. Not only serve me personally but the boring domestic things too. Run the household. Cook the meals. You know. So he doesn't get too self-indulgent and become a pleasure-seeking slut. Except of course on his days off." That made sense. "It's time, Janet. Maybe past time." "Long past," she agreed. So we nodded to each other and together we chanted, "Kitty? Pussy? Boys? Listen! Listen!" They opened their eyes coyly and looked at us. "Time to get ready for your special evening. Time to make yourselves extra beautiful." They smiled slowly, at peace with themselves and the world. And then smiled at each other. Then they stood up, stark naked, no longer aware of the cocks and balls dangling under their smooth, round bellies and daintily protruding boobs. Then ridiculous as it was, because they were indeed stark naked, they each dipped a knee toward us in acquiescence. They curtsyed! By old habit I suppose -- we'd once told them to curtsy whenever they receive an order, and they'd been doing it unawares for months. Then without ado they turned toward the bathroom. "You go first, Kitty," Pussy told Kitty. He was being a host! That was so sweet of him! Something unexpected as they neared the door. He turned toward me respectfully. "Ms. Betsy," he asked. "I hope you don't mind my asking you a question." "Not at all, Pussy love. If I can answer it, I will." His mind wasn't altogether gone. Now and then something like this would happen. Kitty stood there and waited, looking at him, Pussy apparently their appointed spokesman for something they'd already discussed. "Do go on, Pussy," Janet said, recognizing that her Kitty concurred in whatever this was. "We love living here and we wouldn't want to annoy you in any way," he continued. "Neither of us." "Just ask," I said. Sometimes their obsequiousness could be annoying. "It's ... well, you call us 'boys' whenever you talk to us, to Kitty and me. Same as Ms. Janet. But we're girls, aren't we? Everything we know about ourselves tells us that's what we are. I mean, when we're together one of us sometimes has to be the boy because ... well, that's all right, it's nice being a boy when we ... anyhow we take turns. But it's pretend, isn't it? We really are girls, aren't we? I mean, we love being girls, we really do. So Kitty and I were wondering, are we wrong?" I was ready for that one. "Pussy honey, you really are our girls, our special girls, there's no question of that. Tonight you're going to find out just how special. Then you'll always be our girls. Do you feel uncomfortable sometimes when someone calls you something else?" "Yes, ma'am. Kitty does too." What a wonderful opportunity to commit them in advance! And they were asking for it! They'd even remember that they were asking for it! "Would you rather that from now on we always call you girls and think of you as women, not ever as boys or men? All the time? No matter what?" Pussy smiled eagerly and nodded, and Kitty, I saw, was nodding too, his long curls waving over his neck and down his back. "Oh, yes!" they said in unison. "Oh yes! Please!" They sounded as if we'd just offered them an orgasm. Janet glanced quickly at me and added, "And you'll be our girls forever and ever afterward no matter what?" "Oh, yes!" they said again. "We want to be." "Our girls?" I inserted, emphasizing the first word. "No one else's?" "Yes," Pussy said as if that went without saying. "Well, I suggest you both remember that!" Janet replied sharply. No need for Janet to use that tone of voice. They'd remember. Bonita had seen to it. "That's lovely," I said, to ease them away from wondering why she'd added that last 'suggestion' so sternly. "All right, girls, do go bathe now, and make yourselves pretty. We'll want you to come tend us at 7:00 pm, so be fully ready yourselves by then. "Yes, ma'am." And they bobbed their knees again in a curtsy and disappeared down the hall. I heard giggling as the bath water began to run. They just couldn't keep their hands off each other! "'Yes ma'am,' is what they said," I repeated to Janet. "So why were we worried?" Janet just shook her head and smiled at me ruefully. "Our former husbands! Those former tyrannical wretches. How are the mighty fallen!" "Oh, no!" I said, grinning. "How they've risen! They're girls now, women! Our girls. You heard! This is worth every penny we've spent on their improvements." Two hours later we were all seated at 'The King's Ransom,' the best restaurant in town, four quite striking women in long gowns looking impeccable, even regal, accompanied by two incredibly handsome men. Pussy and Kitty were both acting unaccountably shy, blushing almost continually -- it had to be because we'd introduced Scott and Jeff to them as their "dates" for the evening, and their imaginations were running wild as they considered what "dates" do with each other. Dinner had been ordered and the wine poured when in the corner of my eye I saw Craig and a good looking guy arrive and then seat themselves some distance away at the bar. Conrad. Right on time. I looked him over, a blunt, bluff man with a shaved, bullet head -- my God, I bet with a cock that won't quit. He projected power, and I felt myself grow moist. They looked our way with faintly amused smiles, obviously waiting for Scott and Jeff and our two husbands -- no, they were our two girls, they'd asked for it -- to depart for somewhere else. Waiting for the table to clear so they could sit down with us and propose a suitable evening's celebration, an appropriate conclusion to this near-year's neutering of our two offensive husbands. It was time. We were ready for the first toast, and we'd agreed it would be Janet's. "Listen," I said as the entrees were being served. "Listen. Janet has something she wants to tell Kitty, and then I'll want to say something to Pussy. To explain to both of you why we've always called you boys. Until tonight." They immediately stopped chatting and giggling with each other and sending sidelong glances to the two hunks seated next to them, and looked up at us expectantly, cheerfully, receptively. As if it were their birthdays. In a way it was. They were now in a receptive trance, but it didn't seem so -- Bonita wanted us able to instruct them at any time, anywhere, in any company, without it ever becoming obvious, so she'd established a kind of alert insouciance as their trance states.. Janet raised her glass. "To you two darlings," she began. We drank to both of them. They beamed. "Not a word!" she then said. A marvelous 'suggestion' -- why hadn't we thought of it earlier? And then she began talking, and then I began talking. "You weren't always the lovely ladies you are now," she began. No mention of Bonita, but she did suggest that they remember their boyhoods, their former lives, the earlier years of our marriages. Their misbehavior with countless women. So they did remember. Slowly they came to themselves. As recognition dawned, Scott and then Jeff held our girls tightly, hugging them around their shoulders, then for a time held their hands too, as if affectionately but firmly. We could see memory return in their eyes, and glint, then catch fire, then fade again. They neither of them knew what to do with what they were hearing, seeing, feeling. It was too enormous. Especially because their most recent memories, those of the past half-year or more, had been so happy, so quietly joyous, even though they were nothing their earlier selves would ever have undertaken. "You're girls now," Janet concluded. "Just as you asked. Just as you've wanted. With only one difference, and whether you do anything about that some time in the future is entirely in your hands." They both just sat there, their bare shoulders drooped, their decollete chests heaving, a slightly wild look in their beautiful eyes. I then explained that they were much nicer now, much better off, happier and by far prettier. That all they had to do now was keep us happy and we'd always take care of them. Then in whatever time was left over they were free to keep themselves happy by whatever means were available. That they were lovely young women who'd have no difficulty attracting boys when their household responsibilities allowed them the time. And unless they docked their clits, they'd always have each other. They looked at me gratefully for a moment, then at each other -- was that with regret? Resignation? Good heavens, Pussy smiled faintly at Kitty, and Kitty replied in kind. They hadn't said a single word the whole time. I suddenly realized that what we'd anticipated and feared wasn't going to happen. Craig and his friend began to approach. I nodded to Jeff. He looked at Scott. "What say we skip dessert and move on?" he asked his companion and our two girls. "The night's not half-gone. I feel like dancing." Then to Pussy, "Don't you, Puss? I bet you love dancing." He seemed to squeeze her hand affectionately, because her face turned bright pink and she whined "Yes!" almost inaudibly. Scott looked at Kitty, who got the message and said, "Why sure, yes, of course." "Later we'll stop at my place for nightcaps," Scott added. "Now that you remember everything, we want everything about tonight to be memorable too." And that was all there was to it. Many hours later still, it was already morning when the two of them arrived back at our house. Janet was a distance away in the recreation room with Craig, and heard nothing I was sure, but the sound of the front door opening woke me, and as I listened I heard the two girls -- yes, that's what they were -- giggling in low voices as they headed straight for their fun room. Craig's friend Conrad, my date for this special occasion, was sound asleep next to me and didn't stir. I looked down affectionately at him. He'd done everything I'd hoped, kept my mind and my cunt thoroughly occupied, and with superb skill too -- he was the best lay I'd ever had. Unlike Janet I had no intention of marrying again any time soon, but I did wonder if Conrad and I could reach some sort of understanding, if he'd be willing to service me exclusively for a time. He'd kept me too busy to wonder how my husband was getting on with Jeff, or Janet's nearly former husband felt about fucking Scott. No problem -- I knew Jeff and Scott were very good at what they did. Kitty and Pussy tiptoed slowly down the hall and closed the door to their room. Not five minutes later I heard the most passionate sounds coming from there, moaning and whimpering and slurping that sounded desperate and yearning and yet deeply satisfied, both muffled and nasal. As if they were sucking on each other's assholes while their noses were buried between each other's lower cheeks. Cleaning each other out? No doubt, though I couldn't quite picture the contorted postures that would allow such a thing. Something like that was happening. But it was of no concern to me now. They were big girls, ours within the bounds we'd suggested to them but even so in possession of their own lives. It was cheering that they didn't seem to mind their new selves at all! Using mouths and cocks, their own or anyone else's, they could now spend as much time as they