Replacement Therapy free porn video

Replacement Therapy By Cheryl Lynn This is a copyrighted fictional story. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely accidental. This is a forced feminine/dominant female story featuring sections of both physical and mental sexual cruelty. Such actions are not condoned by the author and just part of a story. If you do not like such stories then Do Not read or comment as you have been warned. Constructive criticism on style and grammar are welcome. Permission for personal download is given however all other use(s) is prohibited without the consent of the author. [email protected]. Replacement Therapy It all began in 1955, the positively worst year in my sixteen years of life. My name is Ashley Cooper, Mother loved the movie "Gone with the Wind" how else can I explain my first name as I am a boy. I've always hated it and preferred to be called Ash or just Coop by my friends. To make matters worse I took after my Mother more so than my Dad. I am a small skinny muddy blond headed kid with acne. I am usually the last one to be picked in PE to any team and painfully shy. We live in a newly developed suburb in a ranch style rambling house on one acre of land. It is fairly isolated and there are no kids my age within a couple of miles. It's a new house but I am not really happy that we moved there. In our old neighborhood there were lots of kids my age and I did have some really good friends. I am still not into girls well actually they aren't into me. Puberty still has not gotten a very good hold on me as my voice is high and what body hair I have is sparse to none existent. I eat my fill but I still cannot put on any weight. . I guess I should digress a bit and say that the worst day of my life was in 1950 when my Mother died. If she hadn't become so ill then what happened in 1955 would never have occurred. I loved her dearly and some would say that I was pretty much a momma's boy. Dad often said that I was overprotected and sheltered too much by her but he loved her too. In retrospect I guess that helped in getting me in the fix I am today. I'll try to explain everything as it happened as my psychiatrist said writing it out would be cathartic. ooooo After my Mother passed away it was pretty hard on both of us. Dad plunged into work and I saw him less and less. The ample insurance settlement paid for the housekeeper Dad hired to take care of the house and look after me. She took over my upbringing until 1952 when my Father decided to remarry. It seemed to me that one day Dad was at work and the next he had this woman and her daughter moving into the house. Her name was Mildred and her daughter Ashley. Mildred was tall, standing almost six feet in her three inch heels. Not fat but not thin either somewhere in between with raven black hair cut in a bob but usually worn in a tight bun. She had a smooth complexion and piercing green eyes. Her dress wasn't the typical June Cleaver style so common in the fifties. She wore a straight black pencil skirt, white satin blouse with full loose sleeves, black hose and black patent spiked heels. With her bright red painted thin lips and stern demeanor I was immediately intimidated. Ashley on the other hand was more in stature to me with auburn colored hair hanging in waves down to her shoulders. She had freckles scattered over her nose, full lips, creamy white complexion and deep blue eyes just like mine. Unlike her mother she seemed shy and timid. She was wearing a grey poodle skirt over numerous white net crinolines, wide black patent belt and pink cotton button down dress shirt. Later I found out that she was nine months younger than I. I liked her immediately and over the next three years we became fast friends. My step-mother proved to be just as I had thought strict, demanding, and unbending. Once she got a thought into her head it was almost impossible to change it. Those that did, did so at their own peril and that included my Father. She was fastidious and demanding especially with herself and Ashley when it came to proper lady like behavior and dress. Mildred and Ashley were always perfectly dressed and made up for whatever the occasion called for. To some extent that spilled over to me and my Father. Like when my sneakers became the least bit frayed, you know like when they are just starting to get comfortable, she would replace them with new ones. It took me a while to getusedto the new arrangement, but in time I became fast friends with Ashley. As there were no other kids living nearby, we played a lot together. I didn't mind playing the Daddy and she didn't mind playing the Indian Princess. We played baseball but more frequently basketball, hopscotch, jacks, hide and seek and of course tag. Like I said we spent a lot of time together. I have to admit that initially it was confusing having two young teens in the same house with the same name. Step-mother refused to call me by anything other than my given name and that resulted in a couple of embarrassing situations. Dad and Ashley called me Coop and I could live with that. Like I said everything was cool, rock and roll was here to stay, Dad seemed happy and I had at least one good friend in Ashley. I had let my flat top grow out into some fairly long ducktails which were in fashion and feeling good about myself. Then it happened Christmas Eve 1954. My Dad was taking Ashley out for some last minute gift purchases when the car lost traction on an icy stretch of road and collided head on with a Mac truck. They were killed instantly and Christmas never came to our house that year or for many years after. Fortunately Dad had the foresight to have life insurance policies on all the family members plus double indemnity clauses. Mildred would never have to work and I was assured a good college education plus. However all that money would never replace Dad and Ashley. Mildred and I were so distraught that I was allowed to stay home from school for the remainder of the coming school year and we were both put on tranquilizers. I think that at that time in the fifties doctors handed out tranquilizers like jelly beans. I admit they left me in a dreamy state and my loss didn't feel as bad. During December and January there was always someone coming around to check on us or bring food, but we did not go out of our way to welcome them. Basically we wanted to morn in peace and by the middle of February they stopped coming. Our isolation was becoming complete and we didn't care. Around March things started to change. It happened one morning as I was sitting at the dinning room table drinking a cup of coffee. I still hadn't developed a real appreciation for coffee yet but it helped clear some of the fog caused by the tranquilizers. Mildred was sitting across from me as she had since the accident bemoaning the loss of Ashley and spaced out on the drugs. When all of a sudden she got this strange look in her eyes as she watched me and said, "Ashley I want you to go and wash your hair. It looks a fright then come back down here." Not wanting to cause a scene and knowing that my greased hair must look horrible I did as she asked. I went to the bathroom and decided to go ahead and shower. Stepping out of the shower, I went over to the mirror and checked my face for any vestige of hair. Still there was no sign of any sprouting neither on chin nor upper lip. A lot of kids at my school actually shaved their chins and upper lips already. I looked away disappointed that I still was not maturing. At least I had a good start of hairiness around my groin but otherwise not much. I grabbed the terrycloth robe from the door and headed back down to the kitchen. Mildred was standing by the coffee pot getting a refill so I grabbed my cup from the table and joined her. While I was filling the cup Mildred was standing off to the side just staring at me. It gave me the willies. As I turned to face her she reached out and fingered my longish hair. It had been about six months since my last haircut. Now it was longer than it properly should be for a boy. We stood there for about a minute with her fingering my hair when her eyes lost some of their dullness. Too my surprise she told me not to get it cut and to let it grow. Not knowing what to reply I took my cup and headed back to my bedroom. In my room I had a 19 inch black and white television which I turned on to watch some silly cartoon. I was too old for such silliness but the alternative was to watch some stupid soap. I wasn't there very long when Step-mother just walked in, flipped the dial to the soap and with hairbrush in hand stepped behind me and began brushing my hair. I was too stunned to say anything. I know I looked the fool just sitting there with my mouth hanging open as she stroked the brush through my hair. When she had finished two soaps were over and my hair almost sparkled from the brushing. She had parted it down one side and it just touched the top of my shoulders. Finished she placed the hairbrush on my dresser and said that she would be brushing my hair every morning and evening from now on. The thing I remember most about that time was thinking, "Man, how did my hair get that long." For the rest of that month things pretty much stayed the same. We secluded ourselves in the house only having a maid in once a week and groceries delivered. Mildred true to her word brushed my hair every morning and evening. She now had me shampooing and conditioning it every morning when I took my shower. I really didn't mind so much except that she gave me this sweet smelling stuff to use on my hair. If it weren't so comforting to have her brush my hair I probably wouldn't have done it. Then one day after the grocery boy had left, she came to me and ordered me to follow her to the master bath. This was most unusual and I couldn't even remember the last time I was in those rooms. As I started to question her, she grabbed my hand and began pulling toward the master bedroom saying, "I've been displeased with the way you have been keeping your hair and I am going to give it a little trim and tint." I had no idea of what she was talking about but followed along. Soon she had me positioned over the sink pouring and messaging a foul smelling liquid onto my hair. I wanted to protest but she was too strong and my tranquilized mind really didn't have the will power. To make a long story short after she was done shampooing and conditioning my hair she wrapped it in a pink towel turban style and told me to follow her to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Sitting at the table sipping my coffee I finally got the courage to ask her what she had done. I could feel little trickles of water sliding down the back of my neck from my still wet hair. I raised my hands to rub the towel around my head to dry it when she shouted for me to stop. Her eyes seemed to be aflame and she appeared to be mad but quickly calmed. She just smiled this funny sort of smile and said, "I just wanted to try something. You'll find out, just let it dry a bit and I will fix it soon enough." Now that was scary. In the past she could be overbearing, but since the accident this was the first time that she had raised her voice to me. So I sat there in silence finishing my coffee not knowing what to think. Finally she finished hers and standing told me to follow her. We went back into the master bath and she had me sit on the toilet seat facing away from her. I heard some clanging and banging then the towel was removed from my head. I felt the tines of a sharp comb pulled through my hair then to my surprise felt her wrap a section around something hot. She held it there for awhile then moved on to another section repeating the procedure over and over to the back and sides of my head. Mildred parted my hair down the middle and across my brow with a comb. I saw the flash of scissors and the next thing I see is reddish hair floating down my face. I started to get up, but a firm hand on my shoulder held me down. "Ashley you just sit still while I fix your hair or you'll get a spanking on your bare behind," she stated firmly. "What's going on?" I thought but did not try to force myself up. Maybe now when I look back on that day I should have fought back, but you know what they say about hindsight. I was afraid of what was happening but didn't really have much choice at this point. I just squished my eyes tightly shut and hoped for the best. She fiddled with my hair awhile longer then I heard the hiss and smell of hair spray. Then I felt something prickly being placed on my head just shy of the crown that gripped both sides slightly past the front of my upper earlobes. Again I wanted to know what was going on, but at the same time I was beginning to get an idea, an idea that really scared me. What boy would ever want to be coated in hair spray much less smell like it? "Now stand up and look at me Ashley," she demanded. As I stood she took my chin in her hand and turned my head slightly right then left then up and down. Mildred reached over to the counter, picked up a stubby red pencil and began pressing it over my nose. She had this determined look on her face that brooked nothing less than obedience. When she put down the pencil, she smiled and whatever fog had been in her eyes was now gone. She grabbed me by my shoulders and turned me to face the bathroom mirror. To say that I was thunder struck would be a great enormous understatement. I couldn't believe my eyes. "Oh my God! What have you done?' I managed to finally gasp. "Oh don't be so dramatic Ashley. I just styled your hair. It's not like I did anything permanent, but I certainly like the look. I think we'll keep it like that for awhile. Now come along it's time to start lunch and I am hungry," she stated. I couldn't believe it. My once dirty blond hair was now strawberry blond. I had fluffy bangs just barely touching my brows, long curls flowing down the sides and back of my head, and a stupid white plastic hair band. Not only that but she had somehow put what looked like freckles across my nose. I was too stunned to even think at that time just how much I looked like Ashley my dead step-sister. >From that day Mildred would come into my room in the morning to brush and style my hair. In the evenings before bed she would come in and put my hair up in these spring like wire cylinders that had a bristle stuck inside. These she wound tightly to my scalp sticking pink plastic pins through them before putting a pink hairnet over my hair to hold everything in place. The first night I tried to pull away telling her in no uncertain terms that I was not a girl and boys did not wear curlers in their hair. She didn't say anything, just grabbed my wrist pulled me from the chair, sat down with me draped over her lap. Pulled my robe up and over my backside, she then spanked my exposed butt with the hair brush until I would do anything to get her to stop. Needless to say from that night forward I did not dare to complain. I just hoped that after a while she would get tired of this and leave me alone. I remember Dad saying on more than one occasion that he would never be able to understand women if he lived to be a hundred. I now had to completely agree with him. As I lay in bed that first night softly crying and suffering from the sticks and pricks of those awful rollers I could only wonder why in the world she was doing this to me. I was all boy for gosh sakes. When I complained that next morning about how impossible it was to sleep with those things in my hair, she just smiled and said that in time I would get used to it. "Get used to it. Damn there was no way anyone could get used to it. Besides I am a boy and boys should never have to sleep in stinking girl's curlers," I thought. After a few weeks I was kind of getting used to sleeping that way and seeing myself in the mirror with red hair and freckles across my nose. I still did not like it but I was getting used to it. Maybe the tranquilizers helped me accept what was going on but, I still had major reservations. Mildred showed no sign of getting tired of messing with me. Then the next change happened, a horrible change that sapped the very breath out of me. About two weeks into April she did the unfathomable. She actually left the house saying she had some errands to run. I stayed up in my room as the maid was cleaning the house and I definitely did not want her to see my stupid looking hair. If she saw me looking like this and started gossiping around town my reputation - what little there was of it - would be totally destroyed. So I sulked into the early afternoon watching those stupid soaps when my step-mother finally returned. O yeah, I didn't tell you that once Mildred had screwed my hair all up she also made me watch the daily soap operas with her. When she couldn't be there I would have to bring her up to date on what happened in all their ditzy glory. If I messed up and I only did that a couple of times I was forced over her lap and given a bare bottom spanking with the hairbrush. I was no where near strong enough to stop her plus she still had me on those tranquilizers. After the maid left she came into my room as usual without knocking carrying a large elongated box. She ordered me to stand up and to take off my tee shirt and lower my pants. Seeing the determined look in her eye I dared not disobey. Mildred had me stretch my arms over my head then turned pulling something out of the box. Next she had me step into a white garment pulling it up around my waist. It just cupped my chest and went down to crotch level. Getting behind me she began pulling on the strings that tightened the garment very securely around my torso. She kept pulling until I though I was going to faint from a lack of air. At last she seemed to be finished, she was breathing almost as hard as I was trying to. I was dizzy and could hardly breathe as that thing was crushing my midsection in so tightly. She came around to my front and fiddled with the upper portion of the garment for a moment. She settled the "UU" shaped part that cupped my chest into place while pulling up on what flesh I had. Mildred then bent down and before I could do anything pulled my jockey shorts and pants all the way down to my ankles. She had a strip of satiny white fabric in her hand with some hooks attached to both ends. Hooking one end to the underside front of the garment she pulled it back tightly between my legs shoving my penis backwards in the process and hooked it to the back of the garment. When she did this I really did faint. The pain from my balls being crushed in that satin strap shot like a lightening bolt into my brain and bile rushing from my stomach. When I came to I was laying on my back in my bed. I tried to take a big gulp of air but my restricted chest only allowed for short quick pants. I was beginning to panic and hyperventilate when Mildred pushed a tablet between my lips followed by a straw. Telling me to calm down and take a drink as she looked down on my face. She had a strange glow in her eyes and her smile seemed evil to me almost like a deranged person. The tranquilizer helped and I soon calmed enough to stop fighting my breathing problem. I breathed from my upper chest, something I was notusedto doing, taking slow shallow breaths. I began to feel a little better, but the crushing of my ribs and stomach was very hard to ignore. "Wha... what have you done to me?" I finally managed to gasp. "Well Ashley I've decided to help you with your figure. Since you don't seem to like the diet I have so patiently tried to keep you on, I decided that a firm support corset was the best substitute. Your waist is now a nice 24 inches down from your previous 29. I think that eventually we will have to get it down to something less than 20 inches, but that will come in time. It will be a lot quicker if you follow your diet. Now until I decide otherwise you will wear your corset all the time even when you sleep. You will discover that by doing so your body will adjust to it all the sooner and will be much less painful. So I am doing this for your own good," she informed me. "What did you do to me down here," I asked as I reached down to touch the smooth fabric that went between my legs. My groin still throbbed but it was bearable. "Why dear Ashley that strap keeps your corset from riding up and over your hips. It would be very uncomfortable for you if that happened and it would make your clothing look very unsightly. Now you lay there for a minute and get used to your new corset while I go and make us some nice tea," she said as she got up and left the room. Shortly after she left I tried to get up. Now that didn't work as my upper body was tightly encumbered by the corset. I could not believe how much of my flexibility was hampered by it. I finally had to slide my legs off the bed then jerk upright. That effort left me gasping for air and I nearly fell back into the bed. I managed to make my way over to the mirror on my dresser and I almost fainted again seeing my reflection. My torso was covered in a white fabric with a large double diamond shaped center piece of bright white satin. Every inch there was a strip of cloth covering what seemed to be metal springs gong vertically up and down it. Where the top covered my chest two small mounds of flesh looking almost like a small girl's breast stood out. The crotch was smooth and flat. There were six small straps with some kind of white satin bow covering metal clasps hanging from the bottom. I had absolutely no idea what they were for but I was soon to learn. My waist was indeed much smaller making my hips and butt look bigger. Indeed at the hips and back were bright white shinny satin panels sewn into the corset. I tried reaching behind my back to untie the strings, but no matter how much I tried could not loosen the knot. I shuffled back over to the bed because I was not used to my thighs being held so close to my body and the ache in my groin. I had to bend at the knees to reach my underwear and trousers lying on the floor. Putting them on was another new experience that I fervently wished I would never have to do again. I gave up completely trying to put on my jockeys as the bottom of the corset made them stick out funny and the waist band would not hold them up. Putting on pants when you can't bend at the waist both winded and exhausted me. Finally getting my pants pulled up I had another problem. The waist was too big five inches too big if what Mildred had said was true. Not knowing what else to do I pulled the belt in to the last notch. The pants stayed up but looked loose and baggy on my new contours. Pulling my shirt back on, I couldn't help noticing the slight bulges on my chest. Then it hit me as I looked at my reflection in the dresser mirror, I looked more like a girl than a boy. "What is she doing to me?" I asked myself still not realizing her plan. When I got downstairs she was having her cup of tea and there was another full cup sitting at my place. I very stiffly sat down and began sipping at the hot beverage. It tasted funny, but after my ordeal it was soothing. I wanted to lean in and put my elbows on the table, but that damn corset kept me upright and straight backed. I hated that corset with all my heart and hadn't had it on much over an hour. How was I going to cope wearing it all the time. As I sat nursing my cup of tea I told Mildred just how much I was hurting and that she just had to take it off. Besides the pain I told her my pants no longer fit to which she replied that she would take care of that problem as soon as she finished her tea. I sat back thinking at last she had come to her senses and would get me out of this torture device. Shortly afterward she got up and went out of the room saying that she would call me when she had everything ready. I was puzzled at that just how complicated would it be to get me out of this contraption. I was called back to the master bedroom where she once again led me into the bath. My step-mother helped me out of my pants and shirt but to my surprise did not do anything to remove the horrid corset. Instead she turned to the counter and picked up a razor and a can of shaving cream. When I started to question her she told me to hush and be quite and that she had found something nicer for me to wear. Now that made no sense whatsoever to me. Why was she putting shaving cream on my leg when she should be removing the corset? Instructing me not to move a muscle unless I wanted a big slash cut into my leg Mildred began shaving the light fuzz off my leg. I stood horrified as she quickly and methodology swept the razor up and down my legs. Next she had me raise my arms and horrors of horrors removed what little hair I had under my arms with the razor. I watched dumbfounded unable to do anything to stop her. If I tried anything that razor could slice big notches out of my skin. I thought she was done, but she stooped down in front of me, unhooked the gusset strap as she called it, pushed up the bottom of the corset and began lathering up my exposed groin. I did not believe it possible to be more embarrassed than I had been up to that point, but when I tell you it just might be possible to die of embarrassment I was at its threshold. I watched helplessly as she pushed my legs apart and applied the razor to my private area. All too soon my only significant proof of manhood and maturity disappeared. She left only a narrow bar of trimmed hair just above my penis. I was so shocked and embarrassed that I could do absolutely nothing as she pushed my testicles back up into my body, pulled my penis back up under my bottom and attached the gusset strap. I was standing frozen in place with my mouth opening and closing like a guppy there in front of my step-mother. It wasn't until many hours later when I was taking my morning bath that the reality of what had happened hit me. I shook like a leaf for many minutes until Mildred came into the room to help me finish up. After I was shaved, lotion applied to those areas and everything put back in place, she took me back into the master bedroom where some clothing was laid out on the bed. She had me sit on the edge of the bed while kneeling at my feet. Something tan was rolled up in her hands. Quickly she rolled the nylon up my right leg and attached it to the tabs hanging from the corset. It didn't take her long to have both my legs covered in simmering tan nylons. Still too shocked to make much of a fuss she had me step into a pair of white shorts. They were snug at the waist and full in the legs that were cuffed and pleated down the front. It had a back zipper and when fully closed and buttoned fitted me like a second skin. A crop top in pale lavender was carefully pulled over my coiffed head and settled on me not quite reaching the top of the shorts. It had short sleeves and a rounded neckline that left a little of the puffy skin on my chest exposed. She threaded a thin black patent belt through the loops and fastened its small golden buckle closed. Finally she had me step into a pair of black patent leather pumps with a three inch spiked heel. I don't think that I have ever felt so awkward and helpless at the same time. Standing in the heels was a major effort and walking didn't seem possible, but somehow I managed. They were very tight on my feet and almost immediately my feet began to throb. Complaining did no good as I was told that I would eventually get used to it. She grabbed my right elbow while telling me to walk from my hips placing one foot approximately four inches in front of the other. Mildred gave me a nudge and supported me as I tried to walk. "Drop your left arm loosely at your side, elbow in with your wrist relaxed. Back straight, arms back and put your weight on your toes as you walk. No, no don't look at your feet. Eyes straight ahead," she stated as we went back into the living room. Step-mother stayed at my side until she felt like I was getting the hang of it. I walked in circles around and around the room all the while listening to her telling me to keep my shoulders back and my arms loose at my sides. I heard "elbows in," and "walk from your hips" at least a hundred times. Finally she told me to follow her into the kitchen and sit while she made us some tea. I really didn't care for the tea but the chance to sit well just say I would have gladly paid her a hundred dollars for the opportunity. Sitting down was a mistake. Almost as soon as my bum hit the seat my feet began to throb and burn in earnest. When I complained about the tight fitting shoes and the throbbing pain Mildred just snorted and told me that l was like every other woman out there. Again the tea she served had a strange bitter taste. When I asked her about it she told me it was an herbal tea called Black Cohosh. I was going to tell her that I didn't want it but her next statement stopped me cold. "Ashley as soon as you finish your tea I want you practicing your walking. Also I think it would be best if you wore them all the time. That is until I think you have mastered a graceful stride," she told me. My hopes of getting out of these horrid shoes were dashed and a finger of fear jumped up my spine hearing her tell me I was going to wear them all the time. "What the hell is going on?" I asked myself still not comprehending her cruel plans. I tried to delay the inevitable by asking for another cup of tea which she happily gave me. The throbbing settled into just a dull pain, when all too soon I was up and walking around the living room once again. I felt awkward as I was not used to either the stride or stepping on the balls of my feet first. My normal gate was more of a loping stride heel first, moving more from the knee than the hips. Taking these mincing small steps frustrated me but I quickly realized that if I tried walking normally I would instantly fall on my backside or twist an ankle. I had been walking for about fifteen minutes, when she came over to me carrying this big square black patent leather purse with two round straps and a large golden clasp. She had me bend my right arm and slide the straps of the purse to the crook of my elbow. Mildred told be to keep my arm bent, elbow in and wrist dangling loosely holding the purse tightly to my side. I started to ask her why but she cut me off explaining that she thought it would help me obtain a proper look when I walked. Of course that made absolutely no sense to me but I was in no position to argue. After an hour she let me join her on the couch to watch the late afternoon soaps. Mildred had me sit with my knees together and the purse perched on my lap. I felt like the total fool, but was too tired to argue with her. My feet throbbed worse than ever and they felt like they were on fire, but she would not allow me to take them off. So I sat there in my misery and tried to watch television. When she finally got up to make dinner I carefully pulled the shoes off the back of my heel. Oh that felt so good, but I didn't dare take them all the way off in case she looked back into the room. I even pushed the purse off to the side as I slumped as best I could in the corset and stretched out my feet under the coffee table. Oh just to ease the cramps and aches, just to get out of those shoes and corset would be a gift sincerely appreciated. Leaning my head back on the couch I closed my eyes trying to think of a way to get Mildred off my back and let me be me again. As I sat there trying to figure a way to get her to see the error of her ways, I was brought back to the land of the here and now with a stinging slap across my right cheek, then it was quickly repeated on my left. Stunned I tried to bolt up off the couch but failed miserably. The best I managed to accomplish was to slide off the couch and onto the floor. Pain flared in my right ear as Mildred roughly grabbed the lobe between thumb and forefinger pulling me to my feet. I screamed in agony as my ankles twisted slightly as my feet came out of the shoes and from the searing pain in my ear. "How dare you disobey me? Now I will have to punish you and maybe next time you will think twice before contradicting my orders," she screamed at me. In no time I found myself bent over the arm of the couch and my butt was being soundly paddled with something very hard. I screamed, I twisted and I tried flinging my hands back behind me to stop the harsh punishment to no avail. She rained blows down on my backside so hard that I feared that she would actually damage my poor behind. When she finally stopped I was a blubbering mass of pain and agony. I lay over the arm of the couch for what seemed an eternity crying my heart out before I finally slid down to the floor. Mildred handed me a tissue and told me to blow my nose and wipe my tears. I took the offered tissues and blew a loud honker to clear my nasal passages only to receive a swift smack upside my head. "Ashley that is absolutely gross and uncivilized. Blow your nose gently. A person of quality does not draw attention to themselves under such circumstances. Now blow again, but do it daintily, then wipe those eyes," she scolded me. Oh I wished that I could stand up for myself and blow a real honker right into her face but as I stated she was stronger, bigger and unrestricted. I had no choice but to do her bidding. As a means to saving some face I told myself that in time she would get hers. That night as she prepared me for bed I understood her comment about wearing high heels all the time. As I put on my pajamas I was told to leave my hosiery on then to step back into my heels. After she put my hair up in those hateful curlers she gave me another tranquilizer and told me to get into bed. I bent as best I could in the corset to reach down and remove the shoes, when she told me to just get into bed as I would be for the foreseeable future wearing them just like my corset. I stifled a groan of protest as my still very sore butt stopped me. It is bad enough trying to sleep in curlers and corset but with my feet held in the tight embrace of the high arched heels throbbing and burning it was almost impossible. That next morning I awoke in a fog surrounded by aches and pains primarily from my abused feet. Step-mother as usual came into my room, got me out of bed and ushered me into the bathroom where she had already drawn my bath. Bath, yeah, a bath full of perfumed water and fragrant oils such as lavender and tea extracts. Iusedto really hate taking a bath. Since she made me take a bath the day after she first styled my hair it has become the only real pleasure in my life. I even find it pleasurable, when she messages those lavender oils into my chest and body. It is still very embarrassing when she washes my groin, but while she is doing that I am out of the corset and heels. Her explanation for the bath instead of my usual shower was that she didn't want to ruin my hair. So why did she insist that I wear a pink plastic shower cap with plastic flowers all over it, when I did. Now I would do practically anything she asked for that morning refreshment. The hot water eased all my aches and pains with the added bonus of not having to wear that corset. She usually gave me forty-five minutes to just soak my cares away then fifteen minutes of intense scrubbing and now she added the use of a pumice stone. She explained that the pumice stone would remove all the calluses from my aching feet and the shoes would fit better. I let her pumice away. During my bathing she never left me alone. While I soaked she would read to me from various women's magazines to fill her time. ooooo For the next three weeks Mildred tutored me constantly. She had me walking with a book on my head and the purse on my arm until I thought my poor arm would fall off. It is amazing just how heavy a purse can become after it has been hanging in the crook of your arm for awhile. If the book fell off my head she told me how to bend at the knees with my back straight to pick it up. It fell a lot in the first weeks and my calves were burning by the end of the day but now it seldom ever falls. I guess I am getting pretty good at walking in heels while carrying a purse. I haven't worn any of my boy clothing since she put me in that corset. Mostly it's just shorts and pullovers. I complained once about having to wear those shorts and she rewarded me with a pair of what she called "Capris." They were off-white in color, fit me like a glove, and the legs only went down to mid-calf and had a "v" notch on the side of the leg. I didn't complain about wearing the girlish shorts thereafter. Of course the shorts were in pastel colors, closed at the sides or back, the legs are flared and usually cuffed snug fitting across the butt and front. I no longer mind so much especially now that June is here. I only had to wear the Capri pants a few more times. I positively hated wearing them as they were so much more girlie than the shorts. By late May I must admit that I was getting used to the corset, gusset, curlers and heels as my body didn't seem to ache so much. Don't get me wrong I constantly feel the pressure rearranging my internal organs and ribs, the dull numb throbbing of my feet, but it seems to have become bearable. I'm not really sure, if the clothing has become more bearable or the pain just doesn't register like it used to. She surprised me one morning in early June by saying that she was going out on an errand. We were still very much home bodies having little or no contact outside of the house. The few friends I had long since ceased to come by or call so her trip came as a surprise. She told me that she would be back by lunch and for me to fix something upon her return. I spent most of the morning reading magazines or watching the soaps as I knew she would want to know the latest events. I was really getting into the soaps myself as there really wasn't much else to do around the house to keep me busy. I was sorta beginning to like the magazines even. They of course were strictly feminine rags about fashions, relationships, makeup and hair care, but when you didn't have anything else to read. Which reminds me of another change Step-mother had me doing, I had to do my reading out loud. Mildred demanded that I speak clearly, distinctly and in my highest pitch of voice. She explained that it would improve my diction and by keeping my voice modulated in the highest range when spoken softly would make me more understandable. I admit I was a bit curious about feminine hygiene products, but one scan of those ads pretty did it for me. Well that and the fact that Mildred caught me peering at an ad for douching. I was curious about the female anatomy. That particular ad had a drawing of the female sex organs. What boy isn't curious about that? Mildred caught me and decided that I should have first hand knowledge about the whole process. Initially I thought maybe she was going to show me hers as she had already seen all of me. I was horribly wrong. I was marched into the master bath, made to strip to my corset and hose then shown a large red rubber bag with a long white rubber tube and funny looking nozzle with a bunch of high ridges. She showed me how to fill the bag with warm soapy water and a few drops of perfume. I thought I was going to die when she made me stick it into my butt, release the clasp and wait an agonizingly long time to let it drain into me while slowly pumping the nozzle in and out of my bottom. The pain and cramps that followed were almost as unbearable as the humiliation. As the fluid flowed into me, Mildred explained all the intimate details of a woman's menstrual period. Details of which I did not want to know much less think about. I wouldn't be allowed to forget either as she gave me the pamphlet that came with the tampon box to memorize. When I was allowed to release the nauseous fluid the humiliation did not stop. She had to show me the elastic belt with the hooks to hold a sanitary pad, the thick pad and finally the tampon. Step-mother demonstrated on me just how each of those products worked deciding to leave the tampon in place. Since I was wearing the corset with its gusset she decided to make me wear the pad as well. As a final insult she decided that for the next five days I would repeat the process twice a day. Walking with that pad was like try to walk with a pillow stuck between my legs. It was a most uncomfortable state and one that I did not look forward to repeating. Unfortunately it was to become a routine monthly thing for me. As lunchtime approached I turned off the television and went into the kitchen to prepare a light lunch. Yes, I was now helping Mildred in the kitchen. Learning how to prepare various meals and the terminology of cooking were quickly becoming ingrained. I prepared an egg salad with fresh squeezed lemonade and crackers. It was a light meal as I still could not eat like I used to. I was just finishing cleaning up when she walked into the kitchen. "I'm just about finished here Mother. Lunch is on the table and I hope you like it," I said. After the punishments and other humiliations I have been forced to endure I wasn't about to do or say anything to upset her. Calling her Mother was her idea. Well she did give me a choice I could call her Mother or Mommy whichever I chose, some choice. "Fantastic Ashley darling, I am famished. I have some nice surprises for you once we have finished and I can't wait to give them to you. Be a dear and start the tea so we can have some after we eat," she said with a satisfied smile on her face. After lunch she followed me back to my room carrying two large pink bags. When we got there she had me strip and to my surprise removed the corset. As I was enjoying the unexpected freedom with eyes closed, head back breathing in deeply I felt her place something around my waist. Standing in front of me she began fastening the hook and eye closures of a new corset. This one was a pale violet with white lace trim and satin white laces. Moving behind me while telling me to hold my corset in position, she began pulling on the laces. It was the same style and material as my old corset. I can't believe I am calling it "My" corset now. I didn't mind at first because my old one was getting very dingy and tattered from wearing all the time. I should have known better though. This one was four inches smaller than the other and when fully laced would bring my waist to only 20 inches. By the time she was finished I was experiencing the same level of pain and shortness of breath that I had when she put on my first corset. The only good thing I could think of at that moment was that at least my groin didn't suffer the same levels of increased pain. I guess my balls and penis were used to the confining pressures by now. I really never got much of a chance to view the changes in my body's configuration, as the only time I was naked was in the bath. As soon as I was out of the corset Mildred would cover me with a large towel, help me step into the froth and bubble filled tub and when I emerged quickly covered me in a fresh towel. All I caught were quick glimpses of myself and never left alone to really explore my body. I just knew that it was changed and would be changing some more but to what extent I had no real idea. The one thing I did know was that my feet were definitely reshaped. I saw them each morning when she put them back on my feet after my bath. My big toes were now pointing inward and my pinky toes were pointed the same way making my feet pointed just like my pumps. They seemed smaller too. The corset wasn't the only thing new. After I was redressed Mildred pulled out a pair of black patent pumps with a five inch spiked heel. These were slightly different as where the strap fastened the shoe to my foot there was a small brass colored lock. She saw the look on my face and simply said that she wanted to make sure that I did not remove them. It took some effort to get them on. My feet telling me that they must be a slightly smaller size than my first pair. Upon standing I knew they were probably one size smaller and the additional height caused me to flounder a bit. It seemed like I would have to relearn how to walk all over again with these new shoes. I managed, but the throbbing and pain was back in full if not magnified force. Of all the changes she had forced on me stiletto heels had to be the worst and most painful. I ached and burned all over for about a week before a steady numbness took over. With the new corset and shoes my step-mother decided it was time I learned a few more things. I would be learning how to brush and style my own hair including putting it up at night. I would be dressing myself everyday with the exception of putting on my corset which she would continue doing. As I would now be putting on my hosiery I would have to learn to take care of my hands, cuticles and nails. This would include daily nail care such as filing, buffing, polishing and the liberal use of skin creams and lotions. She also decided that since I was approaching seventeen that I should learn about facial care and cosmetics. After she explained my new duties and toilet, Mildred took me into her room and had me sit at her vanity. She pulled out a nail file, emery boards, cuticle stick, and a bottle of fire engine red nail polish. In short order my longish nails, I hadn't clipped them in over six months and extended about a quarter inch beyond the tips of my fingers, were shaped into ovals and glistening red polish flashed with every movement of my hands for the whole world to see. I was not looking forward to these changes whatsoever. Up until now I could chalk up Mildred's eccentric behavior to depression over the loss of her husband and child and maybe mental instability. With the additions of strictly feminine beauty rituals I knew that she was intent on turning me into a girl. I suspected it but kept those feelings in the deep recesses of my mind as I could not justify my inability to keep my masculinity. I was all boy in my mind, but my body was telling me differently. It wasn't until I really looked into the mirror that I realized that she was turning me into her daughter Ashley. My nose was too big compared to hers but not that extreme, my eyebrows bushier and my lips not as full but still close enough for us to pass as sisters. Now I was really frightened as I knew that Mildred would not be relenting or changing her mind about totally changing me into her Ashley. If I were to escape all this madness I would have to do it sooner than later but what could I do. I had no money. I had no clothing at least not boy clothing that fit. I was completely isolated from the world and much weaker physically than my step-mom. The more I though about it the more I realized she had me literally by the balls that is if I still had any. I don't remember the last time I touched them much less felt them. My groin was numb thanks to that tight gusset strap between my legs. I tried to think of a way out but the tranquilizer kicked in and a fitful slumber followed. True to her word right after my bath she had me sitting in front of her vanity. A thorough cleansing of my skin was followed by foundation, powder to seal it and a very painful removal of most of my eyebrows. I tried to limit the tweezing but wound up with thin highly arched brows that made my eyes seem larger and more open. I liken the image to those of a deer caught in headlights look. Brown eyebrow pencil filled them in and was followed by black eyeliner both upper and lower lids, blue eye shadow and using a weird looking device she called an eyelash curler curled my lashes then coated them in a thick layer of black mascara. She applied a dusting of rose blush on my cheeks to highlight them and finally a thick coating of fire engine red lipstick. As she worked on my face she carefully explained everything she was doing. As she finished explaining each step she made me repeat what she said over and over until she moved on to the next step. In my mind I began to think of this as my replacement therapy. With each step, with each new indignity, I found myself being replaced by Ashley. Obvious even to me by now was the next step in my transformation. Once my morning toilet was complete, Mildred led me into Ashley's old bedroom which had been untouched since she passed. I had been in it numerous times previously and was only surprised that it looked like she had just left the room. The French Provencal furnishings were still in their proper place, the cosmetics still littered the vanity with its lighted mirror and pink satin covered bench and skirts, the canopy bed with its sheer pink chiffon canopy and matching satin comforter and skirting. Her favorite doll, a large porcelain Victorian in full ball gown and petticoats, sat between the pillows. The party dress she was going to wear Christmas Eve hanging from the door to the walk-in closet. It was just as I pretty much remembered it. Even the faint scent of her favorite perfume hung in the air. Like I said we were very good friends and I spent probably more time in her room than most brothers would be allowed. Mildred left me standing in the middle of the room as she went over to the large dresser and began removing items of lingerie. I stood like a manikin as she dressed me too overcome with conflicting emotions to resist. A violet bullet bra matching my corset was adjusted across my chest and shoulders. She told me that it was a padded "B" cup and I was surprised to see a significant amount of me actually filling the cups. A pale violet camisole in a soft nylon with delicate white lace trim was lowered over my head. Next she had me step into a matching half slip with three inches of white floral lace at the hem which was followed by four bright white net crinolines with dainty pink satin bows scattered across the hems. Telling me to hold my crinolines close to my sides she had me step into a grey wool full skirt with a large pink poodle embroidered on the left front. After buttoning the side closure she fluffed out the skirt and settled the petticoats into proper position. Satisfied with the skirt she carefully pulled a white angora capped short sleeved sweater over my head. It had a key-hole neckline that was outlined in small pearls. She tied a short bright pink silk scarf around my neck with the neat bow sitting on my left shoulder. This was followed by a small gold woman's watch on my left wrist and four gold bangles were pushed over my right hand. A single large pearl ring was forced onto my left index finger. Mildred stepped back, examined every square inch of me and as she did so a broad smile spread across her face. "Oh my darling Ashley I just knew that you would return to me," she said. Authors Note: The basic premise for this story came from an old Empathy Press release entitled,"Foundation for Femininity." Should the original author or Empathy Press have a problem with this I will have it deleted. 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