Hypnotism Doesn t Work
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NOT SO STRONG HUSBAND by Throne
Van Waite hurried home to his wife Sheryl. He was always so happy to
see her. She had a stunning figure, with overly full breasts, wide hips
and, his favorite, a broad outthrust bottom. It didn't hurt that she
also had generous thighs, large firm calves, and small feet. He
couldn't get enough of just seeing her, and he thought their sex life
was great, too. When he arrived at the house he was surprised to see a
strange car behind his wife's in the driveway. He pulled up to the
curb, got out, and promptly went inside. Sheryl was sitting in the
recreation room, holding a glass of red wine, her cherubic face made
over by laughter. She had on a short dress of some shiny material,
along with extra racy pink heels. There seemed to be more than usual
make-up around her flashing green eyes and on her plump lips, too.
Van's wife shook back her glossy red hair and laughed again. Van could
see that someone was sitting in the recliner opposite her. That was his
seat. It was a man but only his large hand, on the armrest, was
visible. He too held a glass of wine.
Not quite certain what was going on, Van entered the room hesitantly.
As he moved forward he got a better look at the stranger, a handsome
figure in an expensive suit and imported shoes. Sheryl belatedly
noticed her husband and gave him a bright smile, saying, "Hello, honey.
We have a guest." Van nodded uncertainly at the visitor, who gave him a
toothy grin, almost as if he was enjoying some private joke. Sheryl
went on, "This is Greg Richman, an old friend of mine. He's in the area
recruiting talent for his company. They do genetics research." Van
reached out and Greg stood up to shake. He was taller than Greg by a
head and his long thick fingers encased the husband's hand. His grip
was impressively strong.
Van sat down alongside his wife on the couch. She resumed talking to
Greg as if her husband wasn't there. She said, "Your discoveries sound
fascinating. I can't wait to find out how they work on your first test
subject." Greg responded, "I'm curious about that myself. We expect
the physical changes to be accompanied by personality alterations as
well." Sheryl snickered, though Van couldn't understand why. Finally
bringing her husband back into the conversation, she mentioned, "Greg
and I dated for a while in college. We were quite... intimate." That
really stung Van's ego. He was jealous by nature and having such an
attractive wife magnified the tendency. The former lovers began to
discuss their days of higher learning and Van felt shut out again. He
went and got himself a glass of seltzer, returned, and sat unhappily on
the couch, though not as close to his wife as before.
At last Greg left. Van was deeply relieved. His masculine pride was
damaged and he wanted to repair it. When he went to the kitchen, where
his wife had gone to prepare salads for both of them, he was pleasantly
surprised to hear her adopt a seductive tone. She said, "You know, we
should spice up our sex life. I have something you could try that would
make it extra special for me." "Really?" Van was eager to do whatever
it would take to remove Greg from her thoughts. She pointed at a small
prescription-type bottle on the counter and said, "Yes. Would you like
to take one of those?" He picked it up and studied the capsules inside.
There was no label. But whatever they were, if she thought they would
make sex better, he wasn't about to disagree. Feeling bold, he told
her, "Instead of one, I think I'll try two." Sheryl gave him a
smoldering look and said, "Oh my. If you think you're up to a double
dose, well..." She let the thought hang in the air.
His glass was still mostly full and he took two capsules, popped them
into his mouth, and washed them down. She finished making the salads
and he got out the dressing, feeling better about himself. While they
ate they exchanged a few comments about their days. She didn't bring up
Greg and he was glad about that. Then they watched the news and an hour
of situation comedies. Sheryl surprised him by standing up, moving in
front of him, turning her back and asking, "Would you mind unzipping me,
dear?" Of course he wouldn't mind. Her gorgeous substantial rear end
was right in front of him. He reached up, found the zipper pull, and
slowly lowered it, noting that there was no bra strap across the middle
of her smooth unblemished back. She turned toward him, bent forward,
and gave him a chaste kiss on the forehead. Then she said, "Why don't I
freshen up and slip into something extremely comfortable. Maybe you'd
like a nice relaxing shower." Anxious not to break the mood that was
developing, he said a shower would be perfect.
Van undressed and started the water running, got the temperature just
right, and stepped under the invigorating spray. After he had washed,
he noticed the water rising around his feet. There was something in the
drain. It was hair. All at once he realized that it was his hair and
that his body was completely bald. He felt his face and there was no
hint of the usual beard shadow. The hair on his head remained and his
eyebrows were still there, but otherwise he was pink and smooth
everywhere. Wrapping a towel around his slim hips, he rushed to the
bedroom. At the last moment he paused, not wanting her to see him that
way, looking so unmasculine. But then he pulled back his narrow
shoulders and went to her. Sheryl must have been selecting what to put
on because she was wearing a diaphanous white baby doll nightie and
there was a pink one laid out on the bed. Van stood there, his
mysterious change momentarily forgotten. She licked her lips and he
melted inside. But then his concern reasserted itself and he gestured
toward his hairless rosy chest.
Sheryl said, "That's perfect. I knew it would be a huge turn-on for me
to see you that way. I can't wait to get my hands on your satiny skin."
He stammered, "You... Those capsules...?" "That's right," she purred.
"Greg supplied them. They're one of his new products. Wasn't that nice
of him?" "B... but I look... I mean, I'm so..." She chuckled at his
confusion and assured him, "You'll forget all that once we're in bed,
Van. Now come on." He didn't want to miss this opportunity, no matter
what. So, putting aside his worries, he draped the towel over her
vanity chair and laid down. She got alongside him. It was odd having
her dressed, even skimpily, while he was totally naked. Then her
fingers found his chest, began stroking, and he forgot everything but
the sensations that ran up and down his body. When she rolled his
nipples between her thumbs and forefingers he gasped and closed his
eyes. She moved her talented hands lower, between his thighs, and he
moaned uncontrollably. It went on and on until his was writhing with
need. She picked up the second nightie and stroked it languidly across
his skin. At that moment there was nothing he wouldn't do to keep such
intense pleasure coming, which is when she said, "Now if you want to
make this perfect for me, you'll slip into this sweet little nothing I
picked for you."
He was stunned but couldn't say no. They stood up and she assisted him
in getting dressed. He felt strangely stimulated with it against his
flesh. He pulled the panties up his legs, feeling his own silky skin as
he did it. Then she got the two of them back into bed and had him slip
the panties she wore off her. Van was all ready to have sex when she
began cooing and purring, telling him how wonderful it would be if he
would get his face between her legs and give her 'just a little extra
turning on before the main act'. Again, he didn't want to derail what
was happening so, even though he almost never used his mouth on her, and
then only for a few superficial licks, he put himself into position.
Soon he was lapping at her fragrant pussy as she gave him instructions
to do it 'just the way I want'. She grew more and more excited before
exploding in a quaking orgasm. He tried to stop but she told him just
to slow down. The next thing he knew she was mounting toward a second
climax. It took him longer this time to put her over the top, and her
finish wasn't quite so earthshaking, but she obviously enjoyed it a lot.
Again he was ready to collect his reward, but she rolled onto her side
and told him, "That was fantastic, honey. I owe you one. Just snuggle
up behind me and think about what you're going to get next time."
Not happy but feeling he had no choice, Van did what she wanted. He was
impossibly horny and his long hard erection pressed eagerly against the
twin mounds of her warm backside. She drifted off to gentle sleep and
he had to lay there for the next hour as his balls throbbed
uncomfortably. At last he got to sleep, though he woke several times
and rubbed himself lightly against her superb body, wishing that she
would awaken and invite him to enjoy himself. But it didn't happen and
when he got up on Saturday morning she made no mention of what she owed
him. Instead, she coaxed him to stay dressed that way and even to don a
pair of her slippers with two inch heels. He wordlessly went along with
it; the footwear made his walk slightly slinky, adding a roll to the
movement of his bottom. He accepted that and enjoyed a cup of coffee
and two rich Danish pastries. He usually limited himself to one but she
insisted that he have a second. Then she teased him some more, hugging
him and moving sensually against him, until his passions were rekindled.
He moaned softly, almost like a girl, with his eyes closed. Then he
started to speak, saying, "Sheryl, maybe we could..." But he stopped
because his voice sounded high and whispery.
As he stood there holding his throat, looking distressed, she explained,
"Greg said this might happen. He told me to just give him a call if it
did. I'll buzz him as soon as I finish my coffee." In no hurry, she
lingered over the hot beverage while her husband fretted. At last she
made the call and Van noticed that she had the number on pre-set. She
chatted about other subjects for a while, further frustrating her
spouse, before finally getting to the matter of his altered voice. She
listened and then said, "All right. I'll see you in a while." Van was
relieved but, when he said he would get dressed, she stopped him,
mentioning, "Greg wants to see how you changed and if you look
convincingly feminine. I think he plans to sell this product to, you
know, guys who want to pass for girls." She giggled, which he found
inappropriate, considering the fix he was in, but he said nothing. The
thought of her former boyfriend seeing him this way was unacceptable but
what could he do. Who else could reverse these alterations? Sheryl
didn't change what she wore either, pointing out, to Van's displeasure,
"Oh, Greg saw me like this a lot, back when we were dating." "You..."
Van squeaked emotionally. "...don't have to talk about..." "Are you
feeling insecure? Sorry." And she simply walked away, her ravishing
curves on display, which made Van get aroused yet again.
Greg didn't arrive for over an hour. When he got there he took a quick
look at Van and nodded. Sheryl offered him coffee and he accepted
happily. His eyes were all over her, taking in every delightful inch of
her figure. They sat and talked while Van stood nervously in the
corner, not sure what to do with himself. At last they were done and
Greg stood up, went to him, and ordered, "Drop your drawers, cute stuff,
and let's see what ELSE those capsules did to you." "W... what ELSE?"
Van piped worriedly. He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of the
panties and reluctantly lowered them. As he did, Greg smirked and
Sheryl grinned. She said, "You know, Greg, some guys might not want to
look girly in THAT department." Van peered down at his hairless crotch
and saw that his genitals had shrunk to a quarter of their former size,
maybe even less. He was speechless until he finally found his voice and
squeaked, "This is terrible." "You're right," his wife agreed. "Sex
with you wasn't so great before, just the same old same old, but at
least you had a decent sized cock. Now you have a little mini-dick.
I'll have to stop calling you Van and make your name..." As she puzzled
over how to rechristen him, Greg offered, "How about Vanna?" "Ohhhh,"
Van's spouse enthused, "that's PERFECT."
"B... but what about... I mean, how will I ever..." the transformed man
squealed. Greg laughed at him and said, "How will your incredibly sexy
wife get satisfied?" He shifted his attention to Sheryl and asked her,
"Remember how much fun we used to have in bed, baby?" She blushed
prettily and went to him, putting her arms around his neck and turning
her face up. He kissed her firmly and held her close. Van could only
hug himself and bite his lower lip. After the embrace ended, Greg said
with authority, "Get me the capsules, Sheryl. It's time for Vanna to
take another. Or two." They all went to the kitchen and she hurried to
comply, even opening the bottle for him. Greg took Van's wrist and made
him stretch out his slender arm, then turned his hand palm upward. The
taller man shook out two capsule and put them on Van's hand. Over his
shoulder he said, "Sheryl, honey, get him a glass of water. No, make it
milk. He'll need the calories." Van didn't understand what he meant
about calories. Feeling numb, he accepted the glass, popped the drugs
into his mouth, and washed them down. Like a stern Uncle, Greg ordered,
"Drink all of your milk, Vanna. A growing girl needs her vitamins."
Suddenly Sheryl told her husband, "Get out of that nightie, Vanna." She
grabbed an apron from a hook on the wall and added, "You can put on
this. There's a sink full of dirty dishes for you to wash while Greg
and I... um... talk about old times." Feeling slightly dizzy, Van got
undressed. The erstwhile lovers didn't avert their eyes. Greg
commented that it looked like Sheryl's husband was already losing muscle
tone and adding a layer of fat cells. "I honesty didn't think it would
work so quickly. And now, with another double helping in her system, it
should really get interesting." Van accepted the apron and stood there
holding it against his changing body, remembering after a moment to
position it to hide his embarrassingly small male parts. He put on the
apron and his bride tied a big flouncy bow in the back. He was
shamefacedly aware of how it displayed his bare bottom, although he was
consoled that his crotch was covered. Then he turned to the sink and
got the hot water running. Behind him the couple kissed loudly. He
heard them leaving he kitchen. Minutes later he had the sink filled
with hot soapy water and slipped on rubber gloves. As he began washing
he heard his wife sigh loudly and say, "Oh Greg, I can see that YOU
haven't taken any capsules. Look at the size of that monster. And it's
so hard. I always liked getting my hands on it. And my mouth." There
followed over a half hour of noisy foreplay and lovemaking, which
concluded with uninhibitedly vocal, simultaneous orgasms.
They came out later and found Van cleaning the countertops, looking like
a curious version of the dutiful housewife. Greg slapped him on the
bottom and said, "I think his tush is getting bigger already. Can't
wait until it gets nice and round." Van clutched the bib of his apron
with both hands and looked as scared as he felt. The bedmates had his
fate completely under their control. How much more would they change
him? How soon would they make him normal again? Or else would they let
his makeover become more and more extreme, never allowing him to look or
sound masculine again? He dreaded that possibility. His rump still
tingled from the touch of Greg's hand. He couldn't stop imagining how
they had looked together in bed. What was going to happen to him? Was
Sheryl in love with Greg? And why was Van's diminished penis stiff
under the apron? He whimpered and looked at them helplessly. Sheryl
said to him, "Well, you still have lots of other cleaning to do. Would
you like to wear something other than just that apron?" When he nodded
she instructed him to get out of it. After he was again naked, except
for the heeled slippers, she said, "Naturally, you'll have to earn any
other clothes. For right now you can work like you are." Greg
chuckled, a deep sound. Sheryl went on, "There's a lovely giant-sized
feather duster I bought a few days ago. It's in the hall closet.
Scamper over there and fetch it, then start cleaning in the living
room."
He hastened to obey, his sitter swishing because of the heels, which
also shaped his legs. Van put his hands over his nipples in a feminine
gesture of modesty and said in a fluting voice, "Sheryl, please, tell me
what's going to happen." She chortled and told him, "What? To you?
Why, anything Greg and I want is going to happen to you. And it's going
to be endless fun -- at least for us it is."
In the days that followed, Greg kept him on two capsules a day, always
giving them to him and watching him take them. Sheryl made sure he
overate, and that his diet included lots of fatty foods. Van's chest
began to swell, as breasts started to form. His hips and thighs became
rounded. And his tail end grew well upholstered. It humiliated him to
be seen like that, especially because he was rarely allowed more than a
few tiny garments. If his wife gave him too much to wear, Greg would
make him give some of it back. When his miniaturized genitals were
hidden under the opaque crotch band of a pair of dark panties, it
appeared that he had nothing more than a mound of Venus down there. By
the third week he was wearing B-cup bras and soon graduated to C and
then D, DD, and finally DDD. He was constantly aware of his big bust,
two heavy melons tipped with broad, protruding nipples. Sheryl loved to
tease the latter, and was thrilled by how that drove him to distraction,
it was so stimulating. Worse, for Van, though she endlessly teased him
she never allowed him to cum. Greg thought that was hilariously funny
and taunted him about the possibility that Van might dampen his panties
with wet dreams. The lovers shared what had been Van and Sheryl's bed,
making Van sleep on a girl's bed in the corner, with a narrow, fancy
white frame and pink, ruffle-edged blankets, plus extra pillows. He
always had to be in the room when they had sex.
Greg was unquestionably the Man of the House. He made all the decisions
and Sheryl went along with them. His personal fortune made it possible
to buy whatever they needed or wanted. Van wasn't allowed any money at
all, not that he had anywhere to spend it. With his buxom figure, the
transformed husband certainly didn't want to be taken anyplace outside
their home, or rather Sheryl's home, since Greg had intimidated him into
signing over all his assets to her. It became increasingly clear that
the reunited couple didn't intend to return Van to his masculine state.
They were finding it too amusing, keeping him in his buxom, penis-shrunk
condition, and planning additional changes. Soon they went ahead with
further alterations, enlarging his lips and bringing in a gay man who
applied permanent cosmetics, which consisted of outlining his lips and,
after irreversible removal of his eyebrows, tattooing on two high arches
over his eyes. Then he taught Van to apply his own daily make-up, to
fill in the large outline of a mouth with bright lipstick, and to use
lots of mascara, eye liner, and shadow. A wig was woven into the
natural hair of his scalp so that it would stay on for an extended
period, even being washable while worn. It was bright yellow hair, with
two large ponytails sweeping out from high on its sides.
Lastly, they called in a no-nonsense woman who fitted a chastity device
over his shrunken penis. The dick cover was so small that even his
miniaturized organ didn't have room to erect. Then she pulled back his
tiny tool and small balls, so she could press a lifelike artificial
pussy over them. Worse, she fixed it in place with a long-lasting
adhesive that could be dissolved only with the application of a special
solvent which, of course, he would never have access to. Now resembling
a female completely and aware that he would stay that way, he was made
to dress in especially revealing and shameful outfits. Often he had to
wear tops that left his jumbo boobs uncovered. Sometimes there were
matching bottoms that exposed his remarkably authentic, hairless
pudendum. They made him display increasingly exaggerated female body
language, waving his hands on limp wrists, touching his lower lip with
the tip of his forefinger, and striking pin-up poses all around the
house. It was endlessly demeaning but he had no choice.
The final blow to his ego, the ultimate indignity, however, was when
they invited potential customers for the capsules that had been used on
him, so they could witness how well the formula worked. One evening
they had a gathering, a sort of party, with over a dozen interested
parties attending. Van was dressed in a floor-length gown, except that
it was transparent. There were lace-topped stockings but they too were
sheer. He had on three inch heels, made of clear Lucite. The effect
was to make him feel dressed but totally exposed at the same time. He
stood there as the guests arrived, while Sheryl and Greg answered
questions and encouraged them to 'feel the goods' so they could see how
authentic he was to their sense if touch. Van managed to accept all the
prodding, stroking, and barely disguised fondling. Men and women both
ran their hands all over him. Several people wanted to check his clever
pussy cover and explored it freely, getting him wildly aroused even
though there was no hope that he would gain relief. He squirmed during
those examinations but managed to keep smiling as he had been warned he
must.
Two more guests arrived late, a pair of extremely sexy yet mannish
looking women, tall and commanding, wearing boots and dark masculine
clothing. They had short hair and almost no make-up. Their lips were
puckered and their cheeks concave. One was wearing distinctive cat's
eye glasses. As they stood very close to him and sipped their
champagne, Van became increasingly uncomfortable. Please, he begged
silently, don't let them spend any more time with me. One of them said,
"I can see her in a posture collar." The other added, "And a single
leather sleeve to hold her pretty arms behind her back. That would push
those lovely breasts way out and make them more... accessible." They
turned to Greg and Sheryl and the first one, Petra, commented, "We have
access to some astounding new mind control drugs. They can reprogram a
personality and keep it that way until a counter-drug is administered.
"Yes," said the second, Minn. "And if you'd like to see what it could
do to your little Vanna here, we could work out an arrangement. Perhaps
you might loan her to us for, let's say, a month. I'm sure she would
have quite an experience, being remade into the sort of girl we prefer,
totally submissive and eager to please us. You'd be welcome to visit as
often as you like to witness her in action."
"And when you deprogram her," Greg wanted to know, would she remember
everything you had put her through?" "If you'd like, yes," said Petra.
"I'm sure she would... cherish... those memories." "And then," Sheryl
wanted to know, "you could make over her mind again, to our
specifications?" "Indeed," said Minn with a cruel smile. "And leave
you with enough of the substance to modify your instructions to her many
times. Having that much control can be... addictive. You might find
yourselves making her situation more and more extreme. And we'd even
leave you with some of the counteragent, though you might never want to
give her THAT." They all shared knowing laughter, which terrified Van.
A deal was agreed upon. The frightening women would return to claim him
in one week. Van was suffering endless panic but by then was too unsure
of himself to even say a word in his own defense. He could clearly see
that his life was only going to go downhill from there, and how he might
end up was a horrifying prospect.
THE END ?
Geraldine
- 26.04.2022
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