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MOM! 2 By Cheryl Lynn This is a work of fiction and contains harsh forced feminization. If you do not like FORCED feminization stories do not read. You have been warned. Please read "MOM!" before reading this continuation. I really didn't plan on continuing this as I have several other stories I am working on. One for Reluctant Press and "Twin Switch" but so many comments requested more so here it is. This fictional story may be downloaded for private use and permission is expressly denied for any commercial or pay site use without the author's permission. Comments are welcome at [email protected]. MOM! 2 It took two swats to his tightly Capri clad ass to get Peter to leave the salon. Once outside Irene made him walk heel and toe to the car parked two blocks away. Tears were streaming down his face as he minced along the sidewalk in front of the women. With every step he could feel the newly acquired jewelry touching his face and his pig tails brushing his ears. The few people that passed them avoided direct eye contact and went on their way. There were chuckles and a few words like "faggot" and "queer" as the strangers passed them by. Arriving at the car he was told to get in the back seat. When he started to get in, he was stopped and told to face away from the car, keep his legs together, sit then slide his feet into the car. His humiliation at performing such a feminine act brought a glow to his cheeks. He was so involved in his own misery that he didn't realize that the car had stopped. Irene had to scream at him to get out of the car to break his self absorption. Again he had to turn and slide his legs out first before getting out of the car. Irene and Doris each took one of his hands and led him into the tattoo parlor. Resistance was futile as they stopped in front of the door. "Look you little shit, if you don't stop that crying right this minute I'm going to have you tattooed until there isn't an inch of skin unmarked. Do you understand me? Now take this tissue and dry those eyes. Pat them, don't rub them, then blow your nose," Irene ordered. As they entered a burly woman of middle age greeted them. There wasn't an inch of exposed skin without some colored decoration and her face had more piercings than Peter thought possible. There were rings and bars in her lips, nostrils, eyebrows and the bridge of her nose. Her ears were pierced from inner lobe all the way up to the inner part of her upper ear. Peter almost giggled when the stray thought of what might happen if she ever got near a magnet entered his head. "Hey Doris and Irene! How they hanging?" the woman said as she approached and gave each of the women a bear hug. "Gettin' better every minute Connie," Irene said with a big smile. "What cha got there?" Connie said pointing at Peter. "Oh that's my faggot grandson. The one I talked to you about earlier. He's been naggin' the heck out of me for days now and I decided to let him have his way. He wants a pretty butterfly over his left tit, a cute hummingbird over his right, a beauty mark in the shape of a heart over and just to the side of the left lip and something special for the boys in the small of his back. You know something like 'Insert Here' with an arrow pointing down in a cursive bright pink script with a garland of colorful flowers surrounding it. That's not too much to do on short notice is it?" Irene asked. "Piece of cake darling but I'm going to need some proof of age or legal document in case someone comes checking," Connie replied. "He's not quite of age in this state but how about a full power of attorney? That good enough for you?" Irene responded. "Sure, just let me make a copy of it, your written statement that you have approved of all this and I need him to sign off on the order once I've written out what he wants," Connie stated. "No problamo," Irene said as she pinched Peter's arm for emphasis. By the time they arrived back at the house, Peter was hurting from all the piercings and tattoos. Irene gave him a pain and sleeping pill and told him to go to bed. While Irene unpacked the numerous packages from the Thrift Store, Doris helped Peter undress down to his panty girdle and slipped the nightie over his head. The nightie was bright orange with a solid nylon underskirt and pinkish orange chiffon over-skirting. The neckline was trimmed in four inches of white floral lace as were the cap sleeves. She decided to remove his makeup and was careful around his new beauty mark. Putting a flower covered hair cap over his hair she let him get into bed. He was soon fast asleep. Ooo For the next seven days they pretty much left him alone in his room. Doris came in regularly to cleanse his piercings and tattoos and to give him liquid feedings. Irene came in each morning and evening to supervise his toilet. The soreness and pain kept him confined to his bed for most of the day. The tongue piercing gave him the most trouble. His tongue had swollen to where, over the first few days, he had trouble talking and swallowing. Other than that Peter sulked in his room living a nightmare. On the eighth day Irene came in and supervised his toilet. She filled the bath with heavily scented floral bath oil as he douched, lubricated and inserted his super tampon. It was his first bath since his trip and despite the smell felt wonderful. Once finished in the bathroom, Irene led him back into his room. There Doris, wearing a pair of latex gloves, was waiting near the bed which had a pile of clothing lying on top. A new bright green panty girdle with embroidered floral front panel was pulled up his legs. Doris pressed his testicles up into his body while holding his penis back between his legs to insure a snug fit. As she got it up to his waist she grabbed the waist band and jerked it up tightly between his legs. Peter let out a little squeal as she did so. "There nice and flat as it should be on a sissy boy," Doris said as she brushed her hand over the crotch of the girdle. Next she fastened a matching satin bra with cutouts for his nipples to pass through on him. The underwire and push up design of the bra made it look like he had small "A" cup titties. Doris showed him how to roll his white nylon hose up into donuts then watched as he smoothed them up his legs and clipped the to he girdle's tabs. This was followed by a white polyester blouse with large billowing sleeves that fastened at the wrists with elastic bands and four inches of lace flowing out to cover his hands. It had a high pleated stiff lacy collar that fastened up his throat with four small pearl buttons and a full lacy jabot that reached almost to his midriff. There the blouse ended and tied together in a floppy bow exposing his navel piercing. Doris giggled as she picked up the last item of clothing for Peter. It was a pair of extremely short shorts in bright emerald green velvet with forest green satin cuffs. It zipped up the back and fastened with a large gold button. The cuffs of the short shorts sat tight on Peter's upper thighs barely covering his crotch. Three and one half inch bright green velvet sandals with an adjustable ankle strap were fastened to his feet to complete his dressing. Having him sit in a chair Doris removed his hair cap and undid his pig tails. Using a wooden hairbrush she quickly brushed it up high on his head and with a white lacy scrunchy fastened it into a high pony tail. As she finished she swatted his upper thigh with the brush for not keeping his knees together. For makeup Doris used a light foundation and powder, black mascara, eye liner and a soft green shadow for his eyes and an iridescent pink lipstick for his full cupid bowed lips. She dabbed a heady floral perfume behind his ears, on his neck and at his wrists. "So what do you think?" she asked Irene as she stood back to admire her own work. "He's just precious. At a distance he might actually appear to be a girl but what girl in her right mind would dress this way. With a closer look everyone would know that he is nothing more than a flaming faggot. Come on, let's get him downstairs so we can put him through his paces," Irene said with a broad smile. In the living room Irene tied a green satin ribbon around his ankles with a twelve inch length. With another length of ribbon she tied each of his elbows so that they were held close to his sides. With his stride shortened by the ribbon, Irene made him walk around the room one foot in front of the other heel and toe. As he practiced walking, she made him hold up his arms at ninety degree angles while letting his wrists hang limp. With each mincing step, Peter could clearly hear the tinkling of the tiny bells attached to his earrings. The sound was unnerving and the bells constant tingling made him grit his teeth. Peter wanted to protest but Irene had brought the hairbrush with her. She didn't mind using it freely. He hoped that the girdle and shorts would deaden her blows but they seemed to magnify the pain. So he minced along feeling like a complete dork as tears flowed down his cheeks. After an hour of mincing, she taught him how to sit. First, he had to brush his hands behind his bottom as if smoothing out a skirt, and then she had him slowly lower himself into the chair at a slight angle with his knees pressed tightly together. Once seated with his back straight and chest out, he had to turn his legs at an angle to the side and cross his ankles. This action forced his knees to stay together. She made him practice sitting for half an hour then returned him to his walking. Before he started walking again, Doris placed a white knitted cloth bag purse on his left wrist. The purse contained a tube of lipstick, compact and some tissues. Every other time that he passed the mirror hanging on the wall, Peter had to stop, turn facing the mirror with his feet together, open his purse and remove his compact and lipstick, powder his nose and freshen his lipstick. By the end of another hour, Peter's calves were cramping and his feet were screaming in agony from the tight fitting shoes. To his relief he was told to sit down in the correct position and to stay like that until she returned. Peter didn't dare slump, afraid of what punishment would be dealt out if they caught him. He sat with his hands folded in his lap, unconsciously licking his lips. By this time his lips were heavily coated in lipstick. He wasn't use to wearing lipstick and the feeling of his thickly coated lips caused his tongue to unconsciously wipe across them. As the women were having midmorning tea, Peter began fidgeting. His body began to complain having to sit in such an unfamiliar position. His bottom felt like it was sitting on pins and his legs began cramping. He looked around to see if they were near, then using his arms, lifted his butt off the chair while uncrossing his legs. He only did it for a few seconds before he repositioned himself. He could only stand sitting in the required position for about fifteen minutes before he would have to shift. He was about to shift again when he heard them coming back. They made him practice his walking after they returned. This time Irene added something new. She placed a pencil on the floor. Each time Peter reached it, he would have to bend over at the waist, keeping his legs straight and pick it up, stand back up then lower it back to the floor. Peter didn't understand that no girl would ever pick something up like that. He didn't realize how bending from the waist made his butt stand out prominently or how much the back seam of his shorts dug into the crack of his ass. At the end of another hour he was told to go to his room while lunch was prepared. Back in his room Peter wanted desperately to remove the painful shoes and message his aching calves. He discovered quickly that it would be impossible. With the ribbon tying his elbows back his feet couldn't be reached. After several minutes, he stood and minced over to the bathroom as he really needed to pee. It seemed like forever before he managed to push his shorts, girdle and hose down far enough on his thighs for him to sit. Again the ribbon hampered his movements but he finally managed to push them far enough down so that he could pee. As he washed his hands Peter stared at his reflection. "Crap I do look like a fuckin' sissy. With all this fuckin' jewelry and makeup how can I get out of here? Fuck! I can just see myself walking down the fuckin' street dressed and looking like this. I wouldn't last five minutes without some shit head beating the fuckin' crap out of me or worse. Shit even if I had on jeans and a grungy tee with this facial jewelry I'm still a dead man. Damn Mom! Why did you have to leave me with these crazy schizoid bitches?" he said to his reflection then began crying. Peter sat at the kitchen table and stared at his lunch. He had served the women their chicken sandwiches and salads in the dinning room before being allowed to eat his own meager meal. "How the hell can you call four rice cakes, five carrot sticks and a bowl of tomato soup food? I'm starving here and this is all I fuckin' get," he thought as he picked up the first rice cake. He managed to put his empty plate and bowl on the counter top but the ribbons binding his arms wouldn't allow him to place them in the sink. Irene walked in carrying the dishes from the dinning room and told him to go see Doris in the living room. In the living room Doris wrapped a semi-transparent yellow chiffon skirt around his waist. "It's hard to curtsey properly when you are not wearing a skirt and all sissies need to know how to perform this feminine act. Now I'm going to show you how to do it and I expect you to copy it perfectly," she told him. For the next hour he practiced the curtsey. By the end of that hour Peter's legs were noticeably trembling and a burning pain throbbed in his leg muscles. Doris told him to sit and relax for awhile. As he sat the pain in his legs seemed to worsen. "Please take off these shoes. They are killing me," he pleaded. "Oh I am sure they are sissy but in time you will get use to them. The sooner we tone your leg muscles the sooner the pain will lessen. Now you sit there, back straight, chest out and legs tightly together then we'll get back to practice," Doris told him. "Haven't we practiced enough? I'm really tired," he asked. "Sissy you are going to practice until you walk, sit, stand and bend as you are being taught automatically. By the time I am finished, you won't even remember any other way to do so," she replied with a wicked smile as she left to join Irene in the kitchen. As Doris walked into the kitchen Irene looked up from her cup of tea, "Well, how's it going?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "Actually pretty good, I only used the hairbrush a couple of times this afternoon. I'm thinking that I will focus on his voice later. I'm thinking a higher tone and creating more of a lisp. What do you think?" Doris said as she poured herself a cup of tea. "Yeah, make him sound like a little six year old girl. That will really appeal to those gay pervs that frequent the bar. I can see him sitting in fat Carl's lap right now. Can't you? Shit, he must weigh four hundred pounds. Our little sissy would make his mouth water so much he'd be willing to pay any price to bust his cherry mouth. He's too damn fat to do anything else. Hell, he probably hasn't seen his own dick in like fifty years," Irene laughed. After tea Doris brought in a tape recorder with a carry strap and a set of head phones. "Alright sissy get you ass out of that chair. It's time to do some more walking. This time I want you to listen to the tape and repeat it loud enough for me to hear. Make sure you use the same tone and pitch as on the recording. If, after a half hour, you don't show significant improvement in repeated the story I'm going to give you thirty swats of my brush. Understood? Now get moving," she ordered him. If his aching feet and constant tinkle ringing in his ears was bad enough listening to a little girl reading "My Little Pony" and having to repeat it was pure torture. After thirty minutes, Doris made him bend over from the waist and delivered thirty hard blows to his ass. "If you do not try harder repeating that story then you will get sixty of my best at the end of the next half hour," she almost shouted. Peter was in real pain as he began his mincing. With every movement his clothing shifted a bit but it was like sandpaper rubbing across his tender bottom. He was trembling with both fatigue and fright as he neared the end of his hour of practice. Fortunately Doris removed the headset and recorder telling him to go to his room and rest. In his room Peter collapsed on his bed and was almost instantly asleep. While his sleep was the sleep of exhaustion words to the story seemed to move past his lips as images of a little pony danced around in his mind. Doris woke him two hours later and had him take a bubble bath. As he lounged in the steaming water he thought that taking a bubble bath was the best invention since the airplane. After he was dressed in a new pristine white satin paneled girdle and matching bra Doris handed him a red chiffon puff sleeved midriff blouse. Next he was told to put on a pair of red fishnet hose. With the hose attached to his girdle tabs Doris shoved his feet into a pair of red patent leather one inch platform pumps with a five inch stiletto heel. From the way they pinched his toes together Peter knew that they had to be at least one size too small. Going into his closet she removed a black denim miniskirt with six inches of bright red knife edge pleated chiffon at the hem. Peter stepped into it, pulled it to his waist and fastened the back button and zipped it closed. The skirt clung tightly to his butt and with the chiffon hem barely reached mid-thigh. Dressed, Doris replaced the ties at his ankles and elbows using bright red satin ribbons. Restrained and assuming the proper position demanded by her, Peter let out a groan as he felt the pressure on his already aching feet. Doris quickly applied his makeup using black eyeliner and mascara, pink eye shadow and a bright crimson lipstick. She finished him up with a liberal spraying of floral perfume then placed a large red patent leather satchel purse over his right elbow. Back in the living room she replaced the recorder and headphones. "Alright sissy this time I want you to walk around the room. When you come to the pencil bend down and pick it up then replace it. Make damn sure your purse stays in the crook of your arm all the time. When you get to the mirror, remove your purse, take out your lipstick and reapply it then go sit. Count to ten then rise and do the whole thing again until I tell you to stop. Remember I want to hear you repeating what's said on the recorder in a nice girlie voice or you will feel the hairbrush," she instructed then turned on the recorder. This time it was a little girl reciting nursery rhymes. This training routine continued over the next seven days with little variation. When Doris was working at the salon Irene took over his instruction. While Doris used the hairbrush more frequently than Irene, Irene hit much harder. By the end of the week Peter could prance with the best of sissies and speak in a high little girlish lisping voice. Ooo Sunday he was taken back to the salon where Doris set his hair into a high bouffant flip. He was surprised when they arrived back at the tattoo parlor. He didn't think that they could do that much more too totally destroy his life by adding more tattoos. So Peter didn't offer any resistance as he was fatigued to the point of exhaustion caused by his meager diet and constant training schedule. After a brief greeting they wasted little time in getting him into a back well lit room where he was ordered to strip completely. After he complied Connie placed him on a stainless steel table similar to a doctor's and put his legs up in stirrups. With his ankles firmly fastened with padded cuffs to the stirrups his arms and chest were fastened down as well. "Wha....what's going on? What are you going to do to me?" Peter wailed. "Get the gag," Irene said to Doris. Doris quickly removed a penis gag from her purse. After holding Peter's nose closed forcing his mouth open, she slid it in and fastened the straps behind his head. Connie looked at the two women and said, "You sure you want me to use these? Once I've done the Prince piercing they won't be coming off. It'll be permanent." "His little thing won't be of any interest to either man or woman. So go ahead and let's get it over with. We need one more tattoo and have some errands to run Connie," Irene stated. The Prince piercing was painful despite a local anesthetic and strong pain pill. Connie worked quickly and soon had his penis permanently imprisoned between his legs. Two gold plated titanium rings connected by a short gold bar had sealed his fate. The rings and bar were designed such that once they were connected they formed a solid unit. The pain was so bad that he didn't even notice when she pierced his nipples and inserted half inch golden hoops. Finished with the piercings she picked up her tattoo supplies and began tattooing the face of a bright pink kitty cat just above his groin. When she had finished Connie told the women how to keep the area clean. She also instructed them to give him bed rest for at least seven days. As they were heading to the door she said, "I'm not too happy about doing this to a boy that young even if he is a great big sissy Irene. I hope you know what you are doing. Just don't bring him here again. Now I consider us even steven and all you have on me is in this envelope. Right!" "Yeah, it's all there. I swear and we won't be bothering you again. Have a nice life Connie," Irene replied. They made one stop before going home. It was a fetish shop where Irene purchased a set of dainty but strong chains and several different sized weights. As they rode home Doris spoke up, "Irene you sure it was wise to give Connie that tape with her and that under-aged girl? What if she decides to go to the police?" "Naugh, she ain't gonna do that. Connie knows that when I give my word to another woman it's as good as gold. No, she'll stick to our agreement. So what, are you having second thoughts about all this?" Irene said. "N....no...No Irene you know you can trust me. If it hadn't been for you I'd probably be dead now. Besides I hate men as much, if not even more, than you do. That little sissy doesn't deserve the chance to abuse a woman. It's just that sometimes you get carried away, you know," Doris replied. "Ha! Just like when I busted into your and Joey's place as he was pouring that scalding water all over you and hit him with my baseball bat. I guess that was being a bit carried away. Hell Doris, if I hadn't brained him and gotten you to the hospital you could have died then," Irene said harshly. "Oh Irene you did save me and I will always owe you big time for that. I don't mind training him to be the biggest sissy ever. Don't get me wrong. I do get a lot of satisfaction from seeing a rotten male get his due....It's just all the risks we're taking that have me worried," Doris said solemnly. "Don't worry your little head over it babe. I have everything well in hand. Since my idiot daughter signed his care over to me with those legal documents, we're legally in the clear no matter what we decide to do You just let me do the worrying for the both of us and everything will work out just fine," Irene said smiling. Ooo Over the next few days Peter was in terrible pain with his groin swollen and inflamed. Doris like a good impartial nurse took very good care of him. She made sure the area was cleansed regularly and ice packs were available to cool his hot groin. On the third day the swelling began to go down but it still burned when he had to urinate. Sitting down to pee was no longer an option for him, it was the only way he could with his penis tucked snuggly between his thighs. By Sunday he was well enough to go back to the salon and have his hair washed and set back into the bouffant flip big hair style. Doris thought about waxing the hair off his legs as it had become quite noticeable but decided against it. No, she wanted the pleasure of teaching him to shave his own legs. Shaving his legs using a pink lady's shaver and femininely scented foam would do wonders to crush his failing masculine pride. With his hair re-styled and makeup applied they went home. Peter had a real fear that they would take him back to that horrid tattoo place and his relief as they arrived home was palatable. As soon as they got back Irene fixed a pleasant lunch for her and Doris. His meal consisted of chicken soup, two rice cakes and six celery sticks. By this time, after spending so much time in bed, he was very thin. He could easily count his ribs and his once flabby stomach was smooth and flat. After lunch Doris took him to the bath and had him strip to bra and girdle. She handed him a pink lady's razor and can of foam gel that said it was scented with lilacs and lavender. With him seated on the bathtubs rail and legs sticking into it, Doris told him exactly how to shave. She made sure he did it delicately and thoroughly and constantly told him just how feminine shaving ones legs was. When he finished she handed him a bottle of floral scented body moisturizer to ease any razor burns and to give them a feminine sheen. Back in his room she had him get dressed. Doris gave him a pair of sheer nylons to roll up his legs and a pair of four inch stiletto heeled silver sandals. A pair of violet colored velvet short shorts with back zip and bright purple satin hemming came next. They fit him like a glove but this time there was no tell tail little bulge at the crotch. It was as smooth as any girls. For a top, she handed him an open bluish-black vest with padded cap sleeves in faux leatherette. It exposed his upper body and when he moved his nipples could easily be seen sticking out of his purple bra. Not only did it expose his nipples but as the leatherette brushed against them they hardened. Even with the thin gold rings hanging near their tips his nipples stood straight out. They were an inch long and eraser thick as he watched them stick out from the lace frilled opening in his bra. They looked gross to his eyes as he thought, "No man ever had nipples like this." As he was staring down at them Doris stepped up and began applying a primrose pink lipstick to the exposed nipples with a lip brush. "Now they will really stand out," she said as she put the lip brush down. As they left the room to begin his poise and deportment lessons she told him, "Hopefully I won't have to tie your arms and ankles this time. You make sure you mince and prance around like I have shown you. If I have to restrain you then be prepared for a sound spanking." That afternoon he received only seven swats to his butt. While his eyes were filled with unshed tears he made sure that his elbows were tucked in, his wrists limp and that his hips wiggled like Doris wanted. As he minced his way around the room, he made sure to repeat the nursery rhymes in his best girlish voice. As his practice session continued Peter realized that he was doomed. Each time he stopped before the mirror his doom was amplified as he applied another coat of lipstick. He could not escape the reflection of all the golden jewelry decorating his face or the champagne pink highlighted hair. Staring into that mirror caused what fight lingering within him totally surrendering and his masculine self awareness shrinking to almost nothing. Walking, bending, sitting and talking like a little girl while engulfed in his feminine finery slammed into his senses with sledge hammer force. With each step, with each lisp accented word Peter's manhood and resolve slipped further and further away. Irene recognized this mental change. She was now looking forward to changing his mind set to that of a real life sissy. When she was finished with Peter, he would obediently wear his sissy attire, makeup, feminine rituals and more importantly learn all about men. When she completed her mission there would be one less man to haunt womankind. She also had the added bonus of knowing that she had gotten even with her daughter for all those years of uncaring neglect. That night over cocktails after Peter had been put to bed, Irene and Doris discussed the next steps to be taken in his training. "Doris he is just about broken. I saw it in his face today and we need to make sure it stays broken. I want him to see himself every time he is naked or getting dressed. Make him focus on the piercings and tattoos and how permanent they are. I think it is time to make him start dressing and putting on makeup himself. Right now we are doing most of that for him and he can disassociate himself from that process. That will force him to focus on exactly what he is doing and how he is doing it. Of course he needs to be told that no man would ever dress or wear makeup only sissies would. I also want to redecorate his room. It is much too boyish as it is. We need to really feminize it to the max. You know satin sheets, lacy curtains, add a vanity with satin skirting and some girly pictures. After we get all that done I think we should start on his sexual reorientation. I want to find another sissy for him to play with and learn from. In another few months he'll be old enough to go to the bar with us but won't be able to drink. Drink hard liquor or beer that is but I'm sure some of the guys will be more than willing to see that he drinks his fill," Irene said. "You're right darling. I noticed the change this afternoon and agree with what you said. I think getting him together with another real sissy is a great idea. He hasn't been out of the house except for the salon and tattoo parlor. Some one-on-one interaction will help him accept his condition. Let me...yeah...Lilly....Lilly has a sissy that stays with her. I remember her telling me about him. I believe he is a nephew or other relation that she let live with her when his family kicked him out of the house for being gay. You know Lilly. She can't abide a man living with her, so she took him in on the condition that he dresses like a girl. What's great about him is that while he wears skirts and blouses all the time, he couldn't pass as one if his life depended upon it. So there is no way Peter could imagine that he is with a girl. I'll give her a call tomorrow and see if he is still available but I wouldn't do it too soon. Peter needs more time to adjust. I think we can introduce him to dildos and butt plugs now but I think we should wait a month or two before we bring someone else in. Also we need to give him a sissy name. Just calling him sissy isn't enough. Something real femmie and one that only a girl would have like Margaret or Dorothy," Doris replied. "Yeah, I like those ideas especially giving him a girly name. I kind of like Margaret. It reminds me of the prissy and prim cartoon character that always wore dresses and carried a doll. Don't remember the cartoon strip but I like the name. What do you think?" Irene told her. "Margaret, yes I like that. It does sound like what a girlie-girl would be named. Let's do it. Oh before I forget. We need to start him on birth control pills. They have enough estrogen to give him small boobs and round out his figure but not enough to let him pass as a real girl, " Doris said with a big smile. Ooo Over the next month and a half Peter, now only referred to as Margaret, was forced deeper into the persona that the women had concocted. Every day and evening after his bath Margaret was forced to stand naked before the new full length mirror in his room. There he was required to repeat for ten minutes, "My name is Margaret and I am a sissy. I just love to wear dainty things and makeup. All I want is a real man to love and take care of me." Instead of practicing manners and deportment, he now spent hours before his new vanity putting on and taking off makeup, styling his hair and selecting the proper sissy attire. In the evening when he was put to bed, he spent an hour learning how to give head to a large very realistic black dildo. As he sucked, a similar vibrating dildo was pressed up his ass. He no longer wore a tampon all the time, instead had a butt plug inserted into his boy pussy as he had to call it. When he was allowed to rest, he had to read romance novels and gay magazines. On the weekends he would be required to do the housekeeping, laundry and meal preparation. Even though he had to suck his dildo at bed time, he came to relish the very idea of going to bed. With his limited high carb low protein diet, he was constantly fatigued and listless. Sleep was a way to escape the nightmare of daily life. To make sure Margaret, a virgin, would detest women, Irene and Doris made daily afternoon use of his tongue. They made sure that their pussies were at their foulest when they mounted his face. As they squirmed over his face they kept telling him that a real man would love to have two pussies to eat. With that and the daily birth control pill Margaret actually began to believe what she was saying to the mirror. "I want a real man to love and take care of me." Given his circumstances along with his estrogen levels, it is not hard to believe that his natural sexual orientation would change. Over the course of time that Irene had been living with Peter, Carol had called at least every other week. Each time she was told that everything was just dandy. Peter was an absolute doll and they hadn't any problems whatsoever. Each time she asked to speak to him, Irene told her he was out playing, that she had just missed him or that he was otherwise unavailable. After several such calls, Carol became a bit concerned that Peter wasn't there to talk to her. However contract negotiations with Eastern Europeans were done with a lot of vodka and late night dinners. She was too exhausted and busy to spend a lot of time thinking about things back home. After her last call and Peter was still not available, her concern deepened but not enough to make her fly home. "But then again, if things were going badly Peter would make it a point to talk to her. So maybe everything is alright after all," she reasoned dismissing her concerns. Ooo One night as he was getting into bed Peter decided he had had enough of the dildo training. As Irene handed it to him, he threw it down and screamed, "I'm not going to do this anymore and you can't make me!" To his amazement she just turned around and left the room. Peter was overwhelmed with joy and couldn't believe that she hadn't beaten him for his out burst. "Maybe I'm not the panty waist sissy that I thought I was," he mumbled. His victorious feelings didn't last long. Several minutes later Irene came back into the room wearing a long cotton robe. As she approached his bed he saw something poking out from her robe's opening. He squealed as she jerked him out of the bed, manhandled him over to the vanity bench and pushed him face down over it. "That was the very last time you will defy me Margaret. I'm going to teach you to never question me again," she hissed. Irene reached down between his legs and pulled the vibrating dildo out, forced it into his mouth and secured it in place with a silk scarf that was nearby. With him silenced, she pressed the head of her strap on to his puckered anal opening and pushed forward until her pubic bone touched his round ass. Initially her strokes were fast and furious but then slowed to steady slow rhythm. She continued until she reached a second body drenching orgasm. Irene unbuckled her harness leaving the dildo imbedded in his ass, pulled him from the padded bench and forced his face deep into her muff. As she rode his face she was screaming, "You worthless piece of shit! I'll teach you to disobey me. Now lick my pussy clean faggot." She was humping his face hard, scraping his tender skin roughly with her course pubic hair. She was totally lost in her rage when Doris came in and managed to pull her off the poor boy. Peter fell to the floor gasping for breath with tears streaming down his face. The black dildo and attached harness dangling from his butt obscenely. "Irene what the hell has gotten into you? Are you nuts! Come on, calm down and stop fighting me. It's me Doris! Now calm the fuck down," Doris yelled. Doris managed to get Irene to sit on the bed while she went over to Peter. She removed the scarf and dildo from his mouth then carefully pulled the strap on from his rear. "Oh dear, there is some blood but it doesn't look too bad. Damn it Irene, you should know better. He wasn't ready for this yet. You could have caused some real damage," she chided. "The little faggot defied me. I had to do something. Damn Doris I can't remember when I've had a better orgasm though. He might not have been ready but it was only a matter of time. Anyway, he's ready now," Irene said. "Alright, you've had your fun. Now get him up on the bed while I get something to tend to the damage," Doris replied. After Doris cleaned him up, she inserted a bigger butt plug into his battered boy pussy. She gave him a pain and sleeping pill to ease his aches and put him to sleep. As he fell into a deep sleep, she left turning out the light as she went. "It was only a matter of time before Irene took his cherry but she didn't have to do it so roughly. I'm going to have to have a long talk with her tonight. Shit, I just hope she hasn't ruined him for the real thing when the time comes," she thought on her way out. Ooo By the end of the week Peter could deep throat the dildo and take all of it up his boy pussy. When he performed his household chores he swished and swayed, elbows at his sides, arms bent a almost right angles with his wrists limp without a second thought. He automatically reached for either a romance novel or gay magazine whenever he had free time. He could arrange his hair in various ultra-feminine does and apply his makeup. The last thing he wanted was to have Irene put her harness back on and he did his best to please her and Doris. One Sunday the doorbell rang and Margaret was sent to answer it. Peter wasn't happy about doing so but didn't want to face the consequences of disobeying. What bothered him the most was how he was dressed. Besides his lavender panties, girdle and matching bra he wore white floral patterned hose, baby blue velvet short shorts with an inch of bright blue satin trim at the legs and waist. A bright white three quarter billowing sleeved chiffon midriff blouse tying in a big floppy bow just below his bust line and a short sleeveless velvet baby blue vest with two large gold buttons covered his upper torso. His hair was in a bouffant flip and had a bright blue satin cap with small bill fastened on top. Peter's feet were clad in blue ruffled nylon anklets and a pair of four inch blue satin covered pointy toed pumps. Opening the door he spied a rather nice looking woman and someone he quite couldn't see standing behind her. Peter barely got out a "Yes, may I..." before she pushed the door open and walked through followed by a young man about 20 or years old. To Peter's surprise he was wearing a women's silk bell bottom slacks in a floral ecru, yellow floral silk blouse with high pleated collar and long pleated cuffs. On his feet was a pair of black patent leather ballerina shoes. He was carrying an orange handled clutch purse in his right hand while from his left dangled a lacy handkerchief. Closing his gapping mouth Peter shut the door and turned to follow the two strangers. As he followed behind the young man, he noticed that besides the swishing of his behind, the pants clung to his backside as if painted on. His hair was a bright yellow and styled up in spikes. The scent of a strong floral perfume wafted behind him. "Damn! It looks like I'm not the only one having to dress like a flaming idiot," he thought while trying to mince his way around them. With his shoes and mincing walk, just catching up to them would take all his effort. "Ah Lilly you're here and what a delight. I see you brought Joseph with you," Doris's voice boomed out. "Of course I did. You asked me to. Didn't you darling," Lilly greeted. Turning her head Doris yelled back toward the kitchen, "Irene get you fat butt out here and see who's arrived." After the initial greetings were over, Irene looked at Margaret and told him to take Joseph to his room. Peter was more than happy to get away from the three women. Looking at Joseph, Peter nodded his head and started for his room He could hear Joseph following behind. Somehow his obedience without saying a word did not surprise Peter. Once safely in his room with the door closed he said, "Joseph can you help get me out of here. Look what they have done to me. I'm a regular guy and I can't stand wearing these clothes. Come on man, you've got to help me." "Help you my dear? Now why on earth would I want to help you do anything? Why I don't even know you," Joseph replied very calmly. "What? Yeah right. You don't know me but believe me when I say I need to get away from here. I'm not like....like...you. I'm a regular guy and I like girls. Please help me?" Peter said desperately. "Well! What do you mean 'not like me'? I'm a regular guy and I just happen to love how I am dressed. I must say though, your outfit is just the most precious thing I have seen. I'm going to see if Lilly can find me one like it. Oh where did you get that darling outfit? You just have to tell me," Joseph asked. "Wha....what you really like dressing up like that? Oh man, alright, I guess there are odder things in the world and you sure seem to be way out there but can you at least think about helping me?" Peter pled. "Well I might but I have to know you a lot better dreary. Why don't you come and sit on the bed beside me and we'll talk about it," he replied. "I guess if I want his help I'd better do what he asks," Peter thought as he sat beside the man. As soon as he sat down Joseph put his arm around Peter's shoulders and pulled him closer and said, "Darling, you just relax and tell Jo-Jo all about your problems." Peter was uncomfortable sitting that close and resisted the urge to push the arm from his shoulders but began telling his story. As he was related most of what had happened, Peter was only interrupted with a few "Oh dears," "Oh mys," and "Oh reallys." As Peter talked Joseph's arm slowly slipped down to his waist and hugged him tighter. When he came to the end of his story, Joseph said, "Oh you poor poor baby." Then to Peter's complete surprised leaned down and kissed him passionately on the lips. Peter tried to struggle out of his grasp but Joseph was too strong for him. The kiss deepened as Joseph's tongue plowed into Peter's mouth. Peter found himself pressed flat on his back with Joseph on top with a strong hand massaging his left breast. By the time Peter was able to break away his blouse had been undone and his bra pushed up over his nipples. Joseph had been sucking and chewing on them and both of Peter's nipples now throbbed in both pain and pleasure. As he scooted away from Joseph, doing his best to cover his exposed chest with one arm, he sputtered, "What do you think you're doing?" "Sorry baby, I just thought you needed a little TLC after what you have been through. That's all, honest," Joseph replied softly. "Well I told you I'm not like that!" Peter spat. "Okay, okay so you're not like that. I was just like you until I admitted that I was a sissy. Like, I mean, go fuckin' look in a mirror already and tell me you're not who you are. Believe me. You'll like yourself so much better once you admit that you are a sissy. You liked it when I kissed you and started sucking on your nipples. Like, they got as hard as rocks man. You can't tell me that you didn't," Joseph said with a slight edge to his voice. "I....I don't know what you are talking about. I'm not a sissy and...an...and I didn't like kissing you," Peter responded. "That's all bullshit and you know it. You just won't admit it. Look I can prove it to you. Trust me and if you don't enjoy what I'm going to do then I'll stop. You just say the word, okay. All you have to do is relax and close your eyes," he requested. "Alright but you will stop if I say so, right?" Peter said. "Yes, now you just lay there, close your eyes, and relax. Let me do all the work," Joseph told him. Peter did as requested and tried to relax on the bed. Joseph leaned over him and gently brushed his lips across Peter's painted ones. He leaned down closer and softly blew into Peter's ear then began nibbling softly on his neck followed by a quick swipe of the tongue into his ear. Peter couldn't help himself and a soft moan escaped his slightly parted lips. Joseph spent about twenty minutes alternating between Peter's neck, ears and lips. When he moved down and gently licked then blew on Peter's right nipple, Peter arched his back and moaned loudly. Joseph was a master lover and it wasn't long before gentleness gave way to much stronger passions. Soon Peter was divested of all his clothing and Joseph was alternately licking a spot of flesh then blowing on it sending chills running up and down Peter's spine. With Peter moaning loudly and trashing his body in pleasure, Joseph turned him over face down and began working his way back down his body. Reaching his round ass Joseph began licking and probing his tongue into Peter's boy pussy. When Peter yelled out, "Ooooh what are you doing to me?" Joseph slid a finger up his pussy and began wiggling it around as he slid into position. Taking time to remove a small tube of lubricant from his pocket and unzipping his fly, Joseph moved to his knees between Peter's spread legs and waited for Peter to tell him to continue. "Please, oh please don't stop now," Peter moaned and Joseph smiled broadly. Slowly Joseph pressed the head of his penis between Peter's ass cheeks. He began rocking slowly then his own passion got the best of him and he began to forcefully thrust between Peter's cheeks. He did his best to hold out for as long as possible so that he could enjoy this sissy's round firm ass. Joseph seldom got to relieve himself this way as he was on the receiving end of usually much harsher penetrations. Lilly made it a point that he break in this newbie gently and too make damn sure he stayed a virgin. They had other plans regarding his virgin hole. If he did a poor job his own ass would be torn to shreds in an orgy with a biker gang. It was the women's plans to make Peter learn to enjoy homosexual activities then introduce him to the wilder side of male prostitution. When Joseph and Lilly left the house, Peter still had a warm glow and a satisfied smile on his face. It was the first time since his Mother left that he felt any kindness or pleasure. With them gone he was sent into the kitchen to clean everything up. He actually hummed as he placed the dishes in the washer. Ooo For his birthday he was given four presents. They were all the same. They consisted of four wasp waist corsets with demi-bras and garter straps in white, lavender, red and black. That evening, after his bath, Irene had the pleasure of wrapping the white corset around his waist and pulling the lacing taut. The corset was short enough to expose the navel piercing and tattooed pink pussy cat above his groin. White rose patterned hose were attached to the garters and a pair of four inch white patent leather stiletto heels placed on his feet. He was surprised when she handed him a pair of white satin and lace thongs to put on instead of his girdle. A white off the shoulder semi-sheer nylon blouse with three quarter billowing sleeves was pulled over his head. A pair of bright white satin short shorts with two inches of silver satin trim at waist and legs finished his dressing. Doris had him sit at the vanity where she piled his champagne colored hair up on top of his head and fastened a white satin lace edged ribbon around its base to secure the style. The bright pink highlighted ends of his hair cascaded down from the crown. Pink eye shadow, black eyeliner, black mascara, and a rich lustrous pink lipstick completed his makeup. His nails were painted in a pink to match his lips and when the varnish dried, Doris glued a small multicolored stone to each one. He was accessorized with a silver ankle bracelet, four silver bangles for his left wrist and several silver rings on his fingers. Doris misted him with a heavy floral scented perfume and pronounced him ready for his d?but. He was marched out to Doris's car and told to get into the backseat. They were driving in a part of town Peter had never seen when Irene shouted above the noise of the radio that was the place she use to live. Peter noted that it was a run down trailer park. Soon after they pulled into a gravel parking lot of what appeared to be an old house, painted dull pink and had a neon sign over the porch which said "Saphro's n Satyr's." "What are we doing here?" Peter dared ask. "Why honey its your birthday and what's a birthday without a coming out party, You're of age now to get in but not yet old enough to drink alcoholic beverages. I'm afraid it's going to have to be soft drinks for you but I'm sure you're going to have a blast," Irene chuckled. "Yeah, I think Joseph will be here tonight as well. I know you will be glad to see him again. Although I don't think he will have much time to entertain you as he will be one of tonight attractions," Doris said with a giggle. Walking into the dimly lit establishment Peter noticed that the right hand side of the building looked like a typical bar but the left side resembled a miniature auditorium. There was a stage elevated about three feet off the main floor and there were padded chairs arranged in rows arcing out and away from the stage. There were to well padded sawhorses on the stage but nothing else that he could see. If it weren't for the padded sawhorses, he would have thought that the club offered standup comedy routines. The bar side was just a typical bar. Bar stools at the counter and a number of tables scattered about with wooden chairs. As he looked about Peter saw about seven people sitting either at the bar or at a table. One particularly stood out sitting at the bar. Looking at him from behind, you would have thought that the man had a fat stick shoved up his butt as his butt cheeks positively overflowed the stool. He was one of the fattest persons he had ever seen. To Peter's surprise he was brought over to the man and Irene introduced them. "What say Carl? I want to introduce you to my sissy grandson Margaret," Irene said. Carl had a hard time turning around on the stool as his flabby stomach squashed up against the bar but finally managed it. "Yo Irene, you still the bull dyke or have you changed your mind about taking me on?" he said looking Irene up and down. "Fat chance Carl. I just want you to meet my sissy grandson Margaret. It's his birthday and Doris and I wanted to treat him to something special. Margaret, say hi to Fat Carl," Irene said. "Dainty little cocksucker aint he," Carl commented after giving Peter a close look. Peter shrank back when he notice the look in Carl's eyes. The look reminded him of a Discovery Channel documentary on feline predators. They seemed to glow in anticipation of catching and devouring their next meal. "Look Carl we want to check with Augie about tonight. Why don't you keep the sissy occupied while we go chat? Think you can handle him? You know a man of your girth could easily get a heart attack if things get too strenuous," Irene laughed. "No problem Irene. I'll just take the little muffin ta the back room and find something for him to do while you old hens go bicker," Carl bellowed. Besides being scared Peter was also surprised to actually see a seat come into view where Carl had been sitting. "Come on my little muffin," Carl said as he stood and took hold of his hand. "Yeah, you go with Fat Carl and play nice nice with him until we come to get you. Do what he says and behave or.... well you don't want to know what will happen if Carl isn't happy," Doris commented as they departed. Carl led Peter into a small room. Inside there were a large couch, side table with lamp and a coffee table sitting on a threadbare throw rug. Carl shut the door and threw the latch closed locking the room. Still holding Peter's hand, he led them over to the couch. There Carl sat heavily into the sofa while pushing Peter down to his knees in front of him. "Now Margaret undo my belt and pull my pants down," Carl ordered. Seeing the hesitancy on Peter's face frowned and said more forcefully, "You don't want to make me mad muffin. Now do what the fuck I told you." Peter thought that he might be able to keep away from this fat blob of flesh by running around the room but knew it would be a losing battle. The door was latched high on the frame, the room was way too small and he was wearing impossible heels. Resigned he stuck trembling hands up and under the overhanging flesh and found the belt buckle. All too soon Carl's pants and smelly boxers were around his ankles. Kneeling so close to Carl Peter could almost feel the stench emanating from Carl's groin. It smelled of piss, sweat, musk and something else foul. To keep from fainting, he had to breathe through his mouth. As Peter squatted there reeling from the stench, Carl grabbed him by the hair and pulled him deep into his crotch. "Now get busy and do what a good sissy does best. I want you to lick my balls and dick until they are good and wet, then you better suck like a vacuum cleaner or I'm going to shove my hand all the way up your ass," Carl snarled. When Irene returned to get him Peter was disheveled and pale as a ghost. Tears were streaming down his face as he sat by himself in a far corner. Carl opened the door with a big smile on his face. "Irene that muffin is a natural. He not only knows how to give a great BJ but can take two of my fingers up his pussy," Carl said holding up two fingers the size of hotdogs. Irene looked at Carl then over to where Peter was sitting. "I'm glad you liked him but you know what you have to do now. Give the money to Augie and tell her to put it on my tab. Margaret come on, I have to get you cleaned up. Get up off your ass now. Say thank you to Carl before we go and do it with a nice smile or I'll let him have you for a weekend," Irene said. As soon as Irene had him in the bathroom Peter lunged for the toilet and threw up. He stayed by the toilet until there was nothing left to come up. While he was so occupied Doris had joined them. "Hurry up Irene. We only have thirty minutes to get him ready for the show. Oh, I see he enjoyed his time with Fat Carl. I swear that man makes pigs look like angels," she said. Irene gave Peter several hard swats for lattering and getting his hose dirty. It did not take long to change his hose and brush off his clothing. Doris added a thick layer of lipstick and dusted his nose but otherwise his makeup was fine. Pronounced ready, the two women escorted him out of the bathroom. Peter was still shaken over his experience with Carl and Irene's threat to make him spend a weekend with him made his knees wobble. Whatever other surprises they had in store for him couldn't be worse than Fat Carl he hoped as they walked towards the stage. Ooo When they arrived at the stage area, the stage itself was hidden by a hanging red curtain and the chairs were full of people. He noticed that all the people seemed to be paired off with a same sex partner. He started to move to the seating area when to his surprise he was taken behind and onto the stage. He was stunned when he recognized Joseph dressed in a purple and lilac ballerina outfit. The top was a bright purple satin covered in shinny sequins, from his waist flared a large stiff net lilac tutu, his legs sheathed in purple hose and a pair of lilac ballet boots were tightly laced up his legs to the knee. His arms were held high above his head by a rope descending from the ceiling. The squared off toes of the ballerina boots and the impossibly high stiletto heels just touched the floor. What really caught his attention was the twelve inch long black strap on dildo sticking out from under the tutu. Looking up at Irene, she smiled evilly said, "Tonight you and Joseph are going to be the primary entertainment. When the curtain rises you will mince your pert little ass over to him, get on you knees and give him a soulful blowjob while moaning loudly so the audience can hear your pleasure. In time, he will be lowered and you will remove the rope from his hands. Then he will take control of the scene and you will happily do exactly whatever he tells you to do. If you falter or attempt to stop him, I promise you that you will spend a month living with Fat Carl. Do you understand what I've told you?" Peter could only nod his head. Just the thought of having to spend an entire month with Fat Carl made him mute. "Whatever Joseph will do to me can't be worse than what he would do to me. Joseph likes me and I just know he wouldn't do anything to hurt me," he thought. He stood nervously waiting and every now and again a shiver of fear rippled up his spine. Finally he heard someone announce that tonight's entertainment would begin as a drum roll echoed throughout the building and the curtain rose. The stage lights were blinding and Peter couldn't see anything of the audience. When the curtain reached its full height, a spot light focused on the hanging Joseph. A slight push from Irene sent him mincing over to the hanging boy. When Peter neared Joseph he noticed that his hair had been put up in a tight bun and a diamond tiara adorned his head. He also had a six inch bright lavender dildo sticking out of his mouth. At that moment he felt very sorry for his friend and quickly knelt down in front of the enormous black dildo. Peter wanted to get this part of the entertainment over with quickly so he could let Joseph free. Peter stuck out his tongue and licked the tip of the dildo and exclaimed, "Oh my, what a big dick you have." With that he began licking and sucking on the dildo as if his life depended upon it moaning loudly as he performed. When he thought that his mouth and jaws could take no more, he felt Joseph's body lower. Peter looked down and saw Joseph's feet solidly on the wooden floor and stood up to remove the rope from his wrists. "Joseph, are you okay," Peter said softly while looking him in the eyes. Joseph broke into a broad smile and replied, "Oh Margaret I will be just fine in a couple of minutes. Come with me over to the sawhorse where I am going to slowly strip your pants off. Act like you are really enjoying it or else." Peter didn't care to be stripped in front of whoever was watching in the audience but nodded his head in compliance. There Joseph slowly removed all the clothing below Peter's waist. He rubbed his hands all over the bared flesh as the clothing was removed. Then he licked the exposed skin with his tongue leaving it glistening in the bright overhead lighting. Despite being half naked in front of an audience, Peter was actually beginning to enjoy what Joseph was doing to him. That feeling soon disappeared as Joseph bent him over the sawhorse and quickly fastened his hands and ankles with padded cuffs to the floor. Peter found himself bent over the length of the sawhorse with his chin touching one end and his bared ass fully exposed at the other. Peter could barely move and as Joseph stood back up and moved behind him, he understood what was going to happen next. He screamed out, "No Joseph! It's too big!" "Time to take the sissy's cherry!" boomed out a voice over the sound system. With that announcement Joseph pressed the head of the dildo to Peter's boy pussy and roughly shoved it home. The audience heard a loud high pitched squeal as the dildo plunged home. "Ram it! Make the sissy squeal like a pig!" the audience chanted. The pain was so great that Peter screamed just like a pig until he could scream no more. Still the pounding went on. Then Peter sensed rather than saw someone approach the front of the sawhorse. He felt someone pull his hair raising his head off the sawhorse then a large dick was shoved into his mouth. Only this dick was warm and throbbing. Peter did not know how long he was straddling the sawhorse but it seemed like eternity. He only knew that at some point the dildo was pulled out and then something much smaller kept being inserted into his tender backside. While his pussy was being pounded his mouth was not neglected. When he finally collapsed in exhaustion, his stomach was swollen full and his face was covered in slimy semen. A thick bloody whitish-gray fluid leaked down both his thighs leaving rust colored stains as it traveled down the white hose. He was aroused by the sound of flash-bangs going off. The noise was deafening and the brilliant flash of light dimmed even the overhead lighting on the stage. Cries, screams and the sound of crashing chairs were the last thing he heard until someone put smelling salts under his nose. Coming too Peter recognized an EMT cradling his head. "You're going to be okay. We're taking you to the hospital right now. Don't worry, I doubt if any of your injuries are life threatening but you are pretty busted up down there. It's a damn good thing the vice squad heard about this little foray and decided to do a bust. Everything is going to be fine now. We have you safe. I wanted you awake so you could tell me your name and where you live before the morphine kicks in and I need that information," the EMT explained. When he next awoke Peter found himself in a hospital bed. There was an IV inserted into his left arm and he had a very stuffed feeling in his boy pussy. There was a nurse standing nearby and she offered him a drink of water before hurrying off to get the doctor. When the doctor arrived at his beside, he smiled sadly down at the boy. "Peter I want you to know that you are fine. However your anal passage received quite a brutal attack. We sutured the tears both inside and outside. That stuffed feeling you are experiencing is caused by the jellied gauze we had to pack you with. It will come out in a few days as well as the IV. Due to the nature of your injuries I'm giving you high IV dosages of antibiotics. Now I want you to get plenty of rest and if you will take my advice, don't ever do something like this again," the doctor said. For those of you who wanted more, this is it. I have too many other projects in the fire right now to continue this one. If any of you wish to continue this story, please do, just as I have continued on with "Twin Switch" from its original posting. All I ask is credit for initiating this story.