Crusher
- 1 year ago
- 60
- 0
He To She free porn video
He To She
by Lauren Westley
(Authoress Note: All disclaimers regarding characters, age
appropriateness etc are in effect. I really advise anyone under 21 not
to read my stories. It takes a certain degree of maturity to enjoy my
writings without recriminations. Don't write a review if you don't like
the theme of the story. That's just childish. But criticism is always
good and helps me. [email protected]
HE - Story from the Dom point of view
I knew the minute he walked into the bar he would one day be a she.
Looking at him in his skinny jeans, colorful zebra print shirt and Keds
sneakers.
He looked so young the bartender had to ask him for proof.
"You're twenty-three," the bartender said incredulously, "You look about
sixteen. Sorry kid. What'll you have?"
And yes he looked about sixteen but as the bartender had confirmed he
was twenty-three. Old enough to know better and soon to learn his better
self. What I couldn't believe is when he ordered a white Russian. What a
total girl drink. There was just one empty seat between a he-to-be-she
and me: between 5'5" 125 pounds and 6'4" 240 pounds.
The bartender asked him did he live in the neighborhood and the kid
answered 'yes.' And the bartender was my friend and knew my proclivity
so a few moments later he introduced us.
"William," the bartender said and then turn towards me, "this is
Chopper." A little nickname I had picked up and although most people
thought is was because I looked like a biker it was actually because I
had flown helicopters in the army.
His hand reached out to shake mine. I delayed just a moment. It was an
authoritative first moment and then my hand clasped around his and as I
closed my fingers the soft skin of his hand was wrapped in my strong
rough fingers.
"Nice to meet you Billie," I said as I looked into his warm yellow brown
eyes my hand still enveloping his.
"Same here," he said. Not even knowing I had given him his girl name
already.
We unclasped and I went back to drinking my Johnnie Walker. So many
people had moved up to single malts but I still loved the simple taste
of Walker and water. Billie sipped his white Russian with lips aching to
be painted red.
The old black ceiling fan churned as if it was the percussion to the
song, "Hotel California," playing in the background. Always amazed me
how there were so many who hated the Eagles and so many who knew the
lyrics of this song.
After he finished his drink Billie walked, to me swayed, to the bathroom
just as the song finished with, "But you can never leave."
The bartender, Jake asked me if I was going to turn Billie into my
latest girl? Jake knew me well.
"Jake, he is already on that road," I answered stroking my goatee. I
had shaved what little hair I had on my head years ago and the goatee
was my way of compensating. My left cheek sported a jagged scar from my
military days. A piece of shrapnel had whizzed twenty yards from an IED
explosion while I was lifting some troops out of harms way.
Over the past couple of years Jake had seen me take a couple of
'Williams" and turn them into luxurious 'Billies'.
Finishing my drink I got up and watched Billie, his creamy white flesh
oozing sensuality and his auburn hair wisped from fan above as he was
walking back. I thought just a bit longer, a few highlights, a proper
cut. Oh yes and look at those lips they sing out for lipstick.
Something must have happened during the XY chromosome split since Billie
appeared double YY so I guess I knew where the X must be. Funny though
after all these years Billie could have had a schlong or perhaps it was
just a tiny one. You can't judge by the outer layer. But it didn't
matter because once they went girl it was just a clittie.
"Was nice to meet you Billie," I said. "I'm just leaving hope to catch
you here again."
And wouldn't you know it his estrogen kicked in and said he was leaving
too so we walked out together. Funny part is, it turned out, we both
lived in the same direction except my building was two streets down from
his.
As we walked we talked and I imagined him in heels. I could almost hear
his heels clicking on the cement beneath.
"Well Chopper this is where I live," Billie said stopping in front of a
nice six story brick apartment building.
"I'm just two blocks down," I answered. "We should get together again.
I'll be at the tavern 7pm night after next. Hope you can make it."
Billie said he'd try to make it and turned to walk into his building. I
watched his ass and thought how easily I'd teach him to walk like a
woman. Then I headed home humming a tune from "My Fair Lady,' of all
things. When you got past Billie's block the neighborhood deteriorated
quickly and by the time you got to my old ramshackle house with a front
porch sloping to one side you had entered a whole new world. Atlanta is
like except for the wealthy enclaves like Ansley, Chastain, and Cherokee
etc. But we weren't living uptown. We were downtown somewhere between
the city and Decatur. It's an area I know well.
Thursday rolls around and I head down to Jake's at 7pm and who's sitting
at the bar drinking his little girl drink? Billie! Ha the bait is in the
water and the fish doesn't even know he's dinner yet.
I walk up to Billie at the bar and give him a slap on the back. You know
one of those manly slaps but I also let the weight of my arm spend a
moment sensitizing him. It's still too early to sissify him. No, this
girl will need lots of work. Lots of time! But she is going to be worth
it. I wonder if she'll be all girl and enjoy sucking cock.
Billie looks up smiling. (I can't believe it. He's sipping the damn fag
drink through one of those tiny straws. Next he'll be smoking Virginia
Slims.)
"Chopper," he says as I give him the closed fist twist guy handshake and
he bungles it.
An hour or so later after talking about movies I'm thinking he probably
liked the "Notebook" or the "English Patient" (hey don't scare the fish)
it's time to pack up for the night.
The long mahogany bar has some dribble white Russian marks from when
Billie pulled his little straw out and licked the end. He won't be
making messes once he's gone girl.
And then Billie gets up like the other night and he goes pees just
before he leaves. Mental note. Next time I'll go into the bathroom at
the same time.
We walk to Billie's apartment together and I wonder if he has good legs.
Now this happened for the next couple of weeks and we started getting
real buddy buddy. And since I know when he's going to go pee I'm am
either in at the urinal just before or just after he comes in. Now I
don't want to brag but I do have a smiling seven inches and nearly six
inches in girth. Our Billie though is a shrinker when he holds tiny dick
to pee the head is lost between his thumb and two fingers under his pee
clit. Life is great. I always wanted to find a 'shrinker'. Believe it or
not most boigirls aren't small regardless of the porn stories.
Then one night, of course I had planned it, at the time we usually left
I told Billie to go on since I had a few things to wrap up at the bar.
Off he went wearing those skinny jeans he always wore and his little
lime green Izod sport shirt with his tummy full of two white russians.
What a girl I thought.
Anyhow little did Billie know what would happen next? I exited the bar
about 5 minutes after him knowing a tough group of guys would start to
bully him as he walked home. Oh my deal with these guys was exactly as
the same as before, money and perhaps more.
I walked up to the alley but before I turned in I listened to what was
going on. I knew these four whack jobs would have had my script
proceeding like a major motion picture production.
Billie was pleading for them to let him go. I knew the four guys in a
tight circle were pushing him around. One of the gang was teasing Billie
about how he was whining like a girl.
"You are such a pussy," he cajoled.
Billie would soon be a girl. And if I were lucky she'd turn out to be a
good little sissy girl.
"You're such a FAG girl. You sound like your whining for my dick up your
ass?" one of the other guys said.
This was my cue. I had figured about five minutes of insults to be
followed by that line where I would come rescue my girl. I turned the
corner and walked down the alley all 6'4" 240 pounds of hard ass muscle.
(The "Chopper" enters stage right.)
Yeah just like a movie script the hero comes to rescue the girl.
"What are you fuckin' guys doing?" I asked with a snarl and fists ready
nearing the closest guy.
The next minutes were a whirlwind of choreographed harmony. These thugs
knew they might get a chance at Billie's ass someday depending on the
type of girl she became. And anyhow the hundred bucks for five minutes
work was compensation enough.
When I had the pack broken up a bit (some pushing and shoving) I yelled
at Billie to run which, of course, she did. She scampered down the alley
and to the right. I thought I'm going to have to teach her to run like a
girl. Oh what fun the future would hold.
After she was gone we banged a few cans around and then we broke up. I
walked back up the alley and of course little Billie wasn't to be seen.
No my little piggie had run all the way home.
Walking down her block I texted her to come down and meet me. Everything
was safe. Meanwhile I had a little stage blood dripping from the corner
of my mouth. Billie was coming from her apartment building just about
when I arrived.
"Hey, let's go over to my place," I said.
Billie of course said, "Sure," and a look of concern as her eyes saw the
blood oozing over my lip. She wanted to know what happened to me. Was I
ok?
"Well you should see the other guys," I muttered, "let's go to my
place."
I never ask a sub to do something I want her to do and I wasn't going to
start now. Billie and I walked over to my place. This was Billie's first
invite so I knew she'd say yes. Billie's eyes darted around furtively as
we left her block and things got a bit seedier. This block was much
worse then the alley. I walked a little closer to her. Her protector. If
she knew what I had planned for her there's no way she'd have gotten to
the next block.
My block was demolition alley. They had just torn down most of the homes
to make way for an upscale apartment building and an empty lot was
overgrown with knee high brown grass. It adjoined my property. The faded
light blue siding sagging from years of neglect and my decrepit porch
didn't exactly say, "come hither" but Billie was here now. Filthy
windows and frames painted a decade ago had faded and turned a dirty
white more Freddie style then Martha Stewart.
"Home Sweet Home," I said, "Come inside."
Billie replied, "It's cool," but with a bit of nerves on edge sound.
Just the sound of his voice I knew voice lessons could change him to
sound like the girl I saw in him. He'd say 'kewl' instead of 'cool' when
I was through with the transformation.
Now you may be wondering why didn't I just go get me a sub chick. There
are plenty of them but the making of a boy to a girl is a bit like Van
Gogh painting 'Starry Starry Night' and mixing Edward Munch's 'The
Scream' in just for color. I know most who heard this story would
condemn me but not one of my girls ever wanted to go back.
And Billie was a blank canvass. What kind of girl would she become? Oh I
had one who wanted to be a little girl in the end. I finally sold her to
a Mistress who was more then happy to play with her. And this wasn't
some sexual toy but instead a cute 7 year old girl and her Mom.
What you may not know are the many variations of Sissyhood.
That just made me laugh. I thought about the "The Sissyhood of the
Traveling Panties."
There's the baby girl, little girl, school girl, slut, maid, nurse etc.
and once you train a girl to accept who she is and live it she finds her
slot. In other words a 'baby girl' will never grow up to be a slut.
Though there are sluts who like to wear diapers. And as I said little
girls who need a Mom or Dad but those who need a Dad usually have a
sexual nature to the relationship as well.
Billie walked into my pad. The old wide oak planks had seen better days.
Some of them were so worn I wondered about their integrity. The place
was a typical guy mess. Kitchen dishes needed to be done. The old blue
blanket crumpled covering the worn out and now faded original fabric of
the sofa. And of course there was my easy chair. It was perfect. A first
class Lazy-Boy for the Chopper to have some down time and either play a
video game or watch TV.
"Hey Billie why don't you go to the fridge and get a beer," I said and
he started straight there as if he had rehearsed this part so many time.
"Oh and get me one too," I continued once he neared the kitchen. Hey you
know what they say, 'manners begin at home.
Are you wondering why I haven't really quoted anything Billie has said?
There's a simple reason. Nothing he says is important until he goes to
she and then she'll be trained as to her permissible convo.
If all went well today this would be her beginning. She came back with
my beer and handed it to me with a folded paper towel and then went to
the couch put her beer on the broken down coffee table and proceeded to
straighten the blanket. She was looking more and more like a maid.
Perhaps that was her calling.
Now I need to give you the layout. The TV was cattycornered in the far
right corner. If you came up on the wall on the left you'd arrive at the
sofa. So to relax and watch TV one would prefer to lie down. My easy
chair was at the far end of the sofa so I could easily watch who was
there but they'd have to turn to talk to me if they were lying down.
And then Billie said her first girl words, "This place is a mess
Chopper." She was sounding more like a maid every minute. But would she
be simply a maid or would there be more to her.
I turned on the TV to a boxing match. Hey great way to see how she'd
react. Especially when I said I was going to clean the place up but now
my shoulder hurt from the fight. (Yeah a lie but so what)
I had a DVD of the best knock out punches and I could see from how she
was turning her face away from the TV the earlier event was playing
through her mind and realizing how punishing those guys could have been
on her.
And then her next girl phrase, "Chopper you saved me back there. I'll
clean up for you while you watch TV." Oh, when she finally had voice
lessons I'd have to get her to repeat that phrase in a Kate Winslow
voice.
What I was doing was finding her hidden spot. Everyone has a place in
their mind where they go alone and contemplate what they think are
unspeakable desires. If you can unlock that part into the reality the
person is forever changed into who they are and not what others expect
them to be. I was looking into Billie's secret corner and I began to see
her as a submissive maid. I would watch to see if she was a slut as
well.
Maybe I was more like a sculptor. I think I once heard Michelangelo
simply removed the stone, which was blocking the beauty of the Pieta. So
I was simply going to remove the conventions of society and expose the
beauty beneath.
Just to clarify a bit more. Many of the he's I help find their she I
didn't ever have sex with. This wasn't about sex but if I found a
particular kinky girl who once exposed... Well let's just say the rare
occasion did occur. Looking at Billie I enjoyed the thought.
"Hey Billie there's an apron in the broom closet. Put it on. You
wouldn't want to ruin your shirt," I called back as I sat watching
Ultimate Fighter.
I heard the broom closet door open. Oh yes she was a submissive girl
maid. If she could have seen me she'd have seen me smile.
The next decisive moment came a week later when she came over to my
house. Almost instinctively Billie washed the two glasses in the sink.
My plan was about to unfold. One of the hoodlums had run into her,
intentionally, in front of her home and had said he'd fuck her in the
ass except, "Chopper is your protector."
Billie had told me about it and I had told her not to worry since as
long as she was with me no one would bother her. Remember I'm a big guy
to anyone but to her 5'5" I am a giant.
I went over to the refrigerator taking a 32 ounce bottle of Campbell
Tomato juice and pouring myself a 16 ounce glass. Billie wasn't wearing
her apron (well I thought of it as hers) but had on white pants and a
white shirt. How sweet. Little did she know she had worn the perfect
color for today's event?
At the right moment I did a pretend trip and spilled the whole glass of
tomato juice all over her dropping the bottle at the same time which
broke spraying the deep red juice all over her pants and mine as well.
The look on her face was precious.
"Oh accidents will happen," I state as I put my glass down. Never
apologize and never ask.
I started to take off my pants and told her to take off her clothes and
we could run them through the washer and dryer. What amazes me is that
some will protest and others won't. Billie didn't and ever more
surprising to me she wasn't wearing underwear. It was a bit chilly in
the house. Nothing a little clothing wouldn't fix.
"Do you have something for me to wear," Billie asked, as she stood naked
wiping off tomato juice. She had very little hair on her body. And best
of all she had a cute ass and perfect shaped legs.
"Take a shower and I'll look for something for you to wear," I said.
Billie sauntered off to my shower unaware of what would come next. I
left all the clothes in a pile on the floor and was walking around in my
t-shirt and briefs. Briefs are an eye catcher and we still had some
stuff to do. This was a critical stage. I had left just a hand towel in
my bathroom. And had all the rest wiped with my sweat, snot and some
yellow stains in a hamper. Just in case she asked.
I went into my bedroom and took out two items putting them on the bed.
One was a simple pair of white cotton panties. No sense putting her into
satin yet. And the other item was a black and white knitted short sleeve
housedress. I figured she'd be a size 4 now. Later we'd get her into a
2. The black was block letters spelling things like LOVE and I'm sure
you can figure out what other girly words were covering the dress in all
sorts of angles and overlapping.
Billie called out to me, "Hey do you have another towel? There's only a
hand towel in here."
"No Billie I don't. All my clothes are dirty and need to be washed. But
I found something for you to wear."
Billie came out of the bathroom holding the little towel in front of her
privates. How dainty. A real man would just walk out dick and balls to
the wind.
"I only found this," I pointed to the bed, "for you to wear. It was an
old girlfriend who left it behind. And it appears to be your size," I
said. Then I mentioned how we two were the only ones here and the top
would keep her warm and almost just be like a large t-shirt.
What would Billie do? Would Billie object? Would she simply put them on?
Would she walk naked around for the next couple of hours? I really
didn't care since there were only two choices for her, naked or wearing
this outfit. I sort of apologized not having anything else for her to
wear and explaining how this would fit much better then anything that
would fit me with her being 5'5" 125 lbs and me 6'4" and 240.
She walked to bed. No protestations. Nothing. She simply took the
panties and pulled them up over her shapely legs and slipped the dress
over her head as if she had done it a thousand times.
Yes, she knew in the hidden part of her mind she was a girl and she
trusted me. We were crossing the line.
Now it's important to understand Billie did have hair on her body and
although it was fine it was visible on her pretty legs and arm pits.
Also, as much as I enjoy the process I've come to realize each girl is
different. Not every one of them will go through the difficult process
of removing all body hair. Even less will let their eyebrows be shaped.
Some dream of jewelry adoring their ears. Others want belly rings too. A
few are so sub they succumb to a master who may even adorn their
genitals and/or have tattoos applied. But having Billie in this dress
and panties was good enough at the moment.
This goes for both boys and girls but it's the ones like Billie that can
be the most interesting. Sometimes their hidden little place has dreams
of fantasy that should never be a reality.
As much as fantasizing about a rape can be tantalizing it's really not a
good thing at all. It will never fulfill a dream. There are some
fantasies others do recreate in reality that I have no part in.
Fantasies of bestiality, brutality, scat holds no court in my passion.
However, I do enjoy the pleasures of spankings, bondage, transformations
and other sports.
"Chopper," Billie said as her doe eyes looked up at me almost pleading
me to come take her from her hidden spot.
"Yes Billie," I replied.
"What about my clothes?"
We walked from the bedroom to the kitchen. There on the floor were the
tomato juice stained clothing sitting in a pile as if someone had been
murdered and their body vaporized leaving only blood, clothing and
shards of broken glass. Okay tomato juice doesn't look like blood but
you know how much I see things like a movie.
I was hoping this was the metamorphosis of Billie from wimpy boy to
submissive toy.
"Billie the washing machine is on the back porch," I said, "and I'm
sorry I don't really know how to operate it. I have a friend come over
every week and she does it for me."
Was Billie already there? She motioned for me to go watch TV and she'd
figure it out. She even bent over like a girl doing a deep knee bend
instead of just bending over ass high her feet just outside the glass
and tomato juice. Oh how nice her toes looked and a sweet pedicure would
be perfect.
I went to the living room. You may want to call it the 'over-lived-in
room' sat down waiting for Billie. This was her time.
A few minutes later I heard the washing machine begin it's cycle and
then Billie puttering around a bit in the kitchen. I could also hear the
shards of glass clinking as she swept them up.
I stood up. Best to approach a subject like this on high ground.
She walked barefoot into the room. I could see how pretty her nails
could be with a bit of color. Her toes and feet looked like a pedicure
photo before shot at a nail parlor. I bet she does get pedicures.
"Billie let's talk. Sit down on the sofa," I said in a mild
authoritative voice.
"What's up Chopper?" she asked inquisitively as she went to the sofa and
sat down. Such a good girl I thought as I sat down again and turned my
chair to face her. I could see her panties. She hadn't completely gone
girly unless she was slut material. Too soon to tell.
"Just hear me out Billie. No protestations while I talk. When I'm done I
will let you tell me what you think."
I began with a rhetorical question and answered it before Billie said a
word.
"You know we all have a secret spot in our mind where we go and play.
Some thoughts are formulated by the news of the day. Like when some
world leader pisses on the USA I sometimes go there in my mind and
imagine I'd do hand to hand combat with him."
This was not the kind of thought Billie would have but I wanted to
instill my power position before we got down to brass tacks.
"Billie you have a secret place. Don't you?"
And before Billie said a word I began the deeper explanation of this
hidden sexual playground. I had to shush Billie a couple of times while
I exposed her hidden garden. I told her it was safe with me and I would
be glad to enjoy the exploration with her if she was honest and sincere.
At first, when I was done, Billie tried to cover her tracks to her
hidden home. But as I reassured her and we talked further Billie began
to open up. When she talked about having dressed up as a girl she also
was quick to say she wasn't gay. I explained to her girls like her
weren't gay. In fact this split personality was a product of both
intellect and learned experience.
During the hour we talked I didn't bring up sex. It was way to early to
dig into the deepest part of her mind.
"Billie would you like me to give you an opportunity to unlock your
hidden palace and test your mind in reality?"
She was hesitant at first but answered haltingly, "yyyyyees."
Billie had kept this so bottled up inside her that once she started
talking about it she couldn't stop. She said many reasons she wanted to
find the she in her; some went back to her earliest childhood days.
Others came from high school and continued. But she said, "I've never
done anything but try on panties."
And so it all began. I told her we would try our experiment out here at
my place and if she trusted me I would lead her to sublimation. I stood
up and walked over to where she was sitting and sat next to her. I saw
her eyes gaze at my sack which filled my briefs but that was just a clue
to perhaps her deeper desires. We wouldn't go there till we had passed
many other hurdles first.
If you remember I mentioned I was an artist at this. I loved the
caterpillar to butterfly as if it were my hand unwrapping the cocoon.
But, having done this before I was much accomplished in all aspects of
the transformation including patience.
"Okay Billie why don't we plan to meet three times a week here instead
of the bar for a few hours. I will not do anything you don't want me
to."
We sat back. I turned on a romantic comedy, "Fifty First Dates," and
waited for her clothes to be dry. I did ask her if she had a
preferential type girl she dreamed of being. She said the schoolgirl or
the maid.
"Those are both great thoughts," I said, "leave it to me. I'll surprise
you with one of those two as an outfit when we next meet."
I also explained how I would need her measurements so I could order
appropriate wear and finally when she was here I would only treat her as
a female but never expose her outside this house unless she asked me to.
I informed her, her name in the house was Billie spelled with an ie and
not a y.
Billie asked only one thing. Would I pick her up at her apartment since
she was scared to walk over alone? Of course I would oblige. What she
didn't know was I would call the hoods and telling them to disappear, at
least for the time being so there was nothing to fear.
Below is the start of the second part of the story. Depending on the
response I will finish it.
SHE - Her story
Well Hi, I'm Billie. Chopper wanted me to write this part. I won't bore
you with all the details of the past weeks. Yes I'm aware now of how
Chopper coaxed Billie out of Billy but at the same time I know she was
in me all the time.
From the first moment I saw Chopper in the bar I twitched inside and
felt his testosterone as a powerful drug to my psyche. I didn't know
where I was going but I did feel subliminal feelings especially the time
I was in the bathroom and he came in. Just having Chopper stand next to
me seeing his pee rod in comparison to mine was breathtaking.
Of course I had seen other men at urinals with their dicks out all were
bigger then my stub. It was just for some reason Chopper exuded more
male producing an intoxicating desire in me.
[email protected]
Jo
- 17.04.2022
- 16
- 0
