Ophelia's Daughter Chapter 1 free porn video

I sat there in the meeting with the two women from HR, trembling. In the meeting was another lady. She was about 5 foot 6, had long blonde hair that fell half way down her back and striking blue eyes. Very pretty I thought. One of the HR women Miss Davis addressed me, "Charles we know." "Know what," I replied. "We know about your fetish for all things girly. Your use of company property to visit fictionmania and we know you like to dress up when you're alone and read these stories. What you don't know is the laptop you've been using has a camera and its recorded everything. EVERYTHING." I gulped. OMG I was in trouble, real trouble. The HR lady next to her, Miss Saunders, took a softer approach. "Now Charles," she said. "It's ok. As a woman myself and a proud one I can understand why you would want to wear our clothes, our panties, our dresses, our heels, why you would want long hair and long nails, manicured, nail varnished, make up, lipstick. This turns you on doesn't it Charles?" I nodded. "I can see from the stories you've been reading you're particularly interested in being a little girl, but one where her mother dresses her like herself maybe in more adult clothing sometimes?" I nodded again going redder and redder. Miss Davis glanced at me disapprovingly and said, "We should really look at sacking you for viewing this disgusting material on company property. If it were up to me I would publish the videos we have of you everywhere so everyone would know what a sick pervert you are." "I'm sorry Miss Davis," I sobbed. Miss Saunders came over to my side of the table and put her arm round me. "Its ok," she said. "We won't be doing that. We have a position for you though that you might find interesting and it would help us if you considered it." "What's that?" I replied. "Well," said Miss Saunders. "You've fantasized for many years about being a girl. You obviously like to dress like one, how would you like to be one?" "Erm, I'm not sure," I mumbled. "I've never really been interested in a sex change. I mean I like women, I'm not gay and that would make me a lesbian, which I'm not either. I just fantasise about being a girl." "We know! This is not what we're offering!" growled Miss Davis. "What Miss Davis is trying to say," continued Miss Saunders. "What she's trying to say is we have developed this new technology. We have made a beautiful little girl from scratch. She's about 7 years old, perhaps small for her age, long blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes. She's not a robot or android either, properly human in every way. Her brain functions though need a real one to work. So the company can continue testing, we want you to transfer your brain into the little girl's and for a year remain and become that little girl. You'll still be you, but just be inside the little girl. You'll effectively be a little girl for a year. In return we're offering to keep your little indiscretion quiet and one million dollars tax free." I gulped. Miss Saunders continued to explain. "This lady sitting here is Ophelia Sarkissian. Taking her DNA, we were able to construct this little girl and grow her in a lab. I guess you could say Ophelia is the little girl's mother. If you accept this she'll be your mother for a year. You'll live normal lives, she'll look after you, you'll go to school as a girl, come home and have lots of mother daughter time, all the things you've dreamed of. Your body will remain intact and in frozen storage, after a year you'll be returned back to being you, or if you really like this we have other projects you can work with." Ophelia spoke for the first time. "Charlie, do you mind if I call you Charlie? Charles is so formal!" I nodded, taking in Ophelia's seductive sexy voice. Ophelia was the essence of summer, a goddess of the sun. Her golden hair draped down softly curling along the ends. Every time she appeared the day never ended and smiles never faded. She was a siren leading everyone to sudden happiness. The beauty with the forever young ocean blue eyes. I nodded, flustered. "Well Charlie," continued Ophelia. "I really hope you consider becoming my little girl. We will have so much fun. In the mornings I will get you dressed ready for school in the cutest school uniform. You will watch me do my makeup, and I will then do yours because the school we are going to is really big on makeup. I'll paint your nails, like mine, put on lipstick, blush, and even give you long lashes." "erm, erm," I stammered. "I need to think about it." "Ok, replied Miss Saunders. "Tonight you will stay in a hotel near here, have a think and then tomorrow you can make your final decision." "Don't take too long!" barked Miss Davis. "Its ok Charlie," intervened Ophelia. "For this to work you have to be totally sure and willing. Otherwise your mind will reject the transfer and it will fail." With that, Miss Davis picked up the phone and called for a taxi. We all went downstairs and after a few minutes a taxi arrived and picked me up taking me to a hotel a few minutes away. I got to the hotel and didn't even had to check in, it was all taken care of. I was told there were clothes for me to change in to and night clothes, tooth brush, products for me to use all complimentary. My room was plush. Decorated in rich linens adorning the walls. It was a suite, a living room, with large bronzed sofa leading to a bedroom that contained a large four poster bed with a whole load of pink cushions. There was an immensely large ensuite off the bedroom and there were my favorite toiletries, tooth brush, combe. Interestingly there were lots of ladies toiletries also, red lipstick, red nail varnish, foundation, blush and even a false nail kit. Off one side of the bedroom also was a walk in wardrobe where there were a selection of men's clothes, from casuals and suits. Off the other side of the bedroom was another larger walk in wardrobe with a large selection of women's clothes. Dresses, skirts, high heeled shoes, pumps. There was even a large selection of panties and nightdresses and pajamas. I ordered a club sandwich from room service and quickly got changed, settling into a t-shirt and a pair of lounge shorts I found in the men's wardrobe. About 20 minutes later I got a knock on the door and my dinner was brought to me by a very attractive blonde girl in her late teens, wearing a very sexy French maid's outfit, black and white. She was perched on very high 5 inch heels and smiled at me whilst I tipped her. I quickly ate my dinner and my heart began to race. I was aroused but couldn't stop thinking firstly about that pretty girl but now mostly about the women's clothes. The temptation to dress up started growing in me. I need to be a girl, I need to be a girl, my thoughts kept saying to me. I tried to resist and eventually I gave up, stripped naked and walked over to the women's walk in wardrobe. Ok I'm going to wear one of these amazing dresses first, with OMG these really high heels then when I'm done a luxurious silky nightdress and sleep all night in this. All the clothes seemed to be in my size, which I should have found odd immediately stripped, dropping my clothes in a pile on the floor. Instinct guided me to her panty drawer and I grabbed the first pair I saw and put them on. They were a girly but mature pair of black spandex briefs. I had tried on my mom's panties many times, but had never felt anything like this on my body. I didn't have any sisters so was deprived in that way! They felt so light and silky. I couldn't believe that girls got to wear things like this! My stomach was in a knot of excitement and I found myself yearning to be a pretty girl. The bra drawer, logically below the panty drawer, was equally easy to find, and without thinking I selected a padded black satin bra and put it on. I spotted a black school dress hanging in the cupboard, I thought this was the perfect outfit. I was yearning to be a girl and was feeling so girly that I was almost starting to forget I was a boy. This was where my mind was when I took the pretty school dress off the hanger unzipped it and put it on over my head. I zipped it up and turned around and looked in the mirror. I melted. For years I had seen the girls at my old school wear these school dresses every day and had so often thought about what it would be like to wear one. I had longed to try one on, feel how it feels to walk around, every day, in such a garment, not wearing pants, but just having this thin piece of material swirl around your legs. I almost cried. It felt amazing, physically, but it felt right, mentally. It just felt right to be a girl. In the mirror I saw a cute 18 year-old girl in her school uniform, dress falling to mid-thigh, like all the girls at school wore them. I sat on the bed to see what sitting in a dress felt like. Oh my god! I might as well not have been wearing anything. It was like sitting just wearing my panties. "My panties." "Ha!" I laughed to myself. I got up and danced around the room, twirled around, jumped up and down. I looked so pretty and felt so pretty... I must have been so wrapped up in what I was doing that I didn't notice the doorbell to my suite ring. I didn't notice the door being opened from the outside. I did notice when a voice said to me "Ahem, Charles, you look adorable!" It was Ophelia, Ophelia Sarkissian. She said nothing but led me into the bathroom, after first directing me to bring along one of the padded chairs from the bedroom. She sat me down in front of the bathroom vanity. "Now, young lady, it's time you learned to use makeup properly." We spent the next two hours with Ophelia painstakingly instructing me how to use makeup. My first task was to shave with a new blade, taking great pains to do so without nicking my skin while removing as much trace of stubble as possible. Ophelia pronounced herself satisfied only after she ran her hand over my newly-shaven skin. I then had to rub a creamy lotion into the skin, which she said would moisturize it and help to make my pores seem smaller while softening my skin. I would have to use the lotion every day, she said. She showed me how to do my eyes dramatically, for romantic evenings, and how to use just a touch of eyeshadow for less elegant occasions. She had me practice applying lipstick and lip-gloss, until I was able to make my lips look fuller and more alluring than I would have imagined. Powder and foundation could be used to minimize the apparent size of my nose and soften the contours of my chin. Painful minutes with tweezers left me with sculpted eyebrows which arched in thin lines over my eyes. I was astounded at how much larger my eyes appeared after she was finished. I learned how to apply mascara without scratching my eye-balls or speckling mascara under my eyes, and how to apply color to my cheekbones to make them seem more prominent. By the time we were through, my skin felt dry and tight, from the repeated removal of the makeup and its reapplication. Ophelia made me do one more complete 'run', telling me to imagine that I was going out on a date, and wanted to look as sexy as I possibly could. I concentrated so hard on each step that I was unaware of how I appeared until I was finished. I looked into the mirror and felt something quiver deep inside me. I was beautiful! The young man who had arrived at the hotel earlier was nowhere to be seen. In his place was a young woman whose oval face oozed sensuality. Her full, generous mouth gave promise of delights to come, while her wide-open eyes seemed to dominate her face, combining the innocence of a young girl with the sexual come-hither appeal of a fully sophisticated woman. I sat entranced, barely aware of Ophelia's hand on my shoulder and her approving smile in the mirror. I did not see her leave. I merely sat looking at my reflection, my right hand rising of its own volition towards my face. It was as if I could only accept who I was becoming by seeing more evidence, from the reflected motion of my arm, that it was truly my reflection that had captivated me. It may have been just seconds, or it may have been hours for all I could tell, before Ophelia walked softly into the room behind me. She came up behind me and leaned forward to kiss me on the cheek. I felt the warmth of her body and the softness of her lips as if I were still in a dream. Our eyes met in the glass of the mirror and her smile elicited a similar response from me. "Charles, you're even prettier than I would have thought possible," she said. I was struck, as I always was, by her physical beauty. I knew that with my makeup, I was a pretty girl, at least from the neck up. But my body, even though short and slender, was still a boy's body while she was all female, with small but pendulous breasts and a narrow waist flaring into wide hips in a classic hourglass figure. Her posture as she bent her head over and fastened her garter-belt in front of her before turning it around her waist to have the hooks in the back was a breath-taking example of the feminine format its best. I stopped in my tracks to admire her, until she, the garter-belt in place, looked up at me. "Come on, Charles," she said, with a smile. "You've got to get dressed as well. I thought we'd go formal since this is such an important night for you. Dressing up is so much fun. I've wanted to share this fun with you ever since I met you today." Her open acknowledgment of her plans and her deliberate seduction of me should have infuriated me, but I had already come to grips with it. I was still feeling drained, although the sight of her near-naked body was restoring some of my sense of well-being. I removed my clothes undid my skirt and removed my vest and the camisole. Now I was wearing only panties. Ophelia was sitting on the bed, about to put on her stockings. She paused to watch me, and I knew that my next move was important to her. The expression of hopeful optimism tinged with nervous apprehension sent a rush of compassion and love through me. Yes, she might be a pervert. Yes, she had been playing mind-games with me, but I wanted to make her happy. So I opened my top lingerie drawer and selected a padded bra. I held it up for her inspection and asked her if she would mind helping me put it on. "It's my first bra, Ophelia, and I could do with your help." The wide smile on her face as she put aside her stockings to come to my assistance was justification for the little lie which my willing selection of a bra represented. She showed me how to put it on, telling me that as with a garter-belt, it was easiest to put it on backwards so as to fasten it in front of my body and then turn it around. She said that if I actually had breasts, I could fit them into the cups as I turned it around. She helped me adjust the shoulder straps so that the heavily padded bra gave me the appearance of possessing small breasts at the right height. She watched me select a garter-belt which matched the bra and she left me to put it on as she returned to the bed and pulled one stocking up a smooth, shapely leg. I finished adjusting the garter-belt and watched as she fastened the tabs of hers to the top of the stocking. I knew that I was about to repeat that performance myself, so I paid close attention. My inner self noted that I was focused more on how to do it than on the sensuality of watching her do it. I was thinking as a girl, about to get dressed up for the first time rather than a s a male watching his girlfriend perform a very feminine act. I chose a pair of white nylons which I saw, as I pulled the first one up my leg, had floral patterns woven into the gossamer fabric. The coolness I experienced as I rolled the nylon up my leg was a new thrill for me. It really was fun getting dressed! I felt only a minor pang of guilt as I admitted that to myself. I stood after fastening both stockings to my garter-belt and felt for the first time the delicious tug of each stocking against the tabs when I walked to the dresser to select my slip. Ophelia told me to think about what gown I wanted to wear to dinner. My slip should let my dress hang properly, but should not itself be visible. If I were to chose a backless evening dress, then I would want a half- slip. She suggested that I wear the black gown she had bought for me. I opened my section of the closet and took it out. It was a floor-length sleeveless dress in black silk, with a low-cut bodice and a waist gathered by a satin belt. The bodice itself had several flounced layers of black silk, while the skirt flared at the hips and then fell in a narrowing sheath, split on the right side by a slit which came up to the knee. Ophelia suggested that I chose a full slip with a corresponding slit, so that anyone watching would get a glimpse of my leg when I walked, rather than a expanse of slip. I combed through my lingerie until I found the one she was talking about. It too was black, with lace bodice and trim. The nightgowns and camisoles I had worn previously had not felt very special. I had worn them to humor Ophelia, and I had consciously been a boy pretending to be a girl. Now, after Ophelia's intense barrage of manipulations and surprises, I had been beaten down into accepting that for now I was to live as a girl. Perhaps that explains why the slip felt so good against my skin as I pulled it over my head, taking care not to let its silk touch my face, and thus disturb my freshly-repaired makeup. Or perhaps it was the combination of the slip against my stockings which sent electric chills through my body as I adjusted the slender spaghetti straps of my slip. I walked back to the closet, reveling at the combination of never-before experienced sensations. The rug felt deep and plush beneath my stockinged feet. My legs felt cool and alive as they passed through the air while I walked. My slip swished against my thighs, and my nylons tugged against their tabs. I felt the unfamiliar tightness of the bra straps and the weight of the padded bra on my chest. I could feel my makeup, and faintly taste to strawberry flavor of my lipstick. Ophelia helped me put on my dress, and without her I could never have done up the back buttons, which were tiny black pearls. She left me standing in front of the closet, looking at my reflection, as she struggled into her dress. It was identical to mine, except that she wore white where I wore black. I fastened the buttons in the back of her dress. We stood side by side and I was surprised to see that we could have been mistaken for sisters. She was light, and blonde while I was darker skinned and my hair was almost black. However, that contrast, emphasized by my choice of black and hers of white, served to heighten the similarity rather than diminish it. We were almost exactly the same height and our shoulders were the same width. Hers were wide for a woman, which came from her background as a competitive swimmer, while I had always been lightly built for a man. Our breasts seemed much the same size, although of course mine were illusory while hers were, as I knew so well, very real. The biggest difference was in our hips. She had the classic hourglass flare while my dress hung a little loose around my slender hips. I ran my hands down the sides of my dress as I realized this. 'Don't worry, honey," she said. "We can always fix that if you want." She must have been a mind-reader to have picked up on that thought. She then brought out several matching pairs of shoes in white and black. All of them had heels taller than anything I had yet worn. I chose a simple pair of open-toed heels with no back, held on by delicate ankle straps secured by tiny buckles. Standing in them was an adventure, especially in deep carpet. Ophelia had me walk back and forth for several minutes before she agreed to let me wear them. They did have the highest heels of the group; maybe 5 inches. I felt as if I were about to topple forwards and had to learn to walk on the balls of my feet. I noticed that my butt seemed to protrude more than it had before, and a sideways glance in the mirror showed that I now filled out the rear of my dress in a very appealing manner. Ophelia offered me a choice of jewelry including some gold clip-on earrings. As I pondered my choice, turning one pair over in my hand, she told me that tomorrow she would have my ears pierced so that we could share earrings. I made my decision and she showed me how to fasten them to my ears. They pinched as they went on, and I had a new feeling to add to my growing list of 'firsts' as I felt their weight pull on the lobes of my ears. I turned my head from side to side to admire the gleam of glow against my hair. But then Ophelia told me to take off my scrunchie. I did so and she spent the next several minutes brushing out my hair. She tried brushing it into a couple of different styles but finally told me to put it back into a pony-tail. "We have to get you to a beauty parlor," she said. "Your hair is long enough and thick enough to do something pretty, but it really needs styling." We went down to dinner, with Ophelia following me as I climbed gingerly down, clinging to the handrail as I teetered on my heels. I think we were both relieved when I made it to the bottom without falling. The heels were challenging by themselves, but the fact that I was wearing a floor-length evening gown as well made it almost impossible. I could hardly see my feet at all. The dinner table was resplendent in white linen, silver cutlery, and bone- china settings.It seemed as if I'd made some kind of internal shift, so that I was seeing things from a feminine perspective. Perhaps humans were too bound up in their own sexuality; seeing themselves as male or female, and neveer understanding the other's point of view. We were like two different species, meeting only at the boundary where sex happened. I was beginning to understand why Ophelia might want a girl who had experienced life on her side of the boundary. With the dawning of that understanding came a physical relaxation and acceptance. I decided to enjoy my new status as much as I could, with no reservations or guilt. As with any truly enjoyable experience, the meal seemed to last forever and yet be over all too soon. We had drunk too much wine, especially since all of the portions had been very small. Ophelia had commented that I had to stay on a strict diet if I was going to be able to fit into all of the clothes she had already considered for me. I only realized just how much wine I had drunk when I stood at the end of the meal, to go to the little girl's room, as I jokingly called it, before retiring to our room with my lover. The room swam in my vision for a second, and Ophelia reached out for me. Fortunately I regained my somewhat precarious balance and walked very carefully indeed to the bathroom. I had to remember to keep my weight entirely on the balls of my feet, which was difficult since I have always been a heel-striker when I walk, wearing down the heels of all of my shoes. Taking a leak was a novel experience, one to add to my catalogue. I stood in front of the toilet for several seconds, wondering how best to go about it. I couldn't take my dress off even if I wanted to, unless I tore it off. I couldn't quite reach all of the buttons on the back, and my drink- dulled co-ordination was such that I'm not sure I could have undone them all anyway. The thought of redoing them afterwards was the final deterrent. That left two choices. Hitch up my dress and slip, and pull down my panties, and then somehow remove the gaff and then pee standing up, or bow to the inevitable and sit down. Of course I sat. I felt awkward and it was difficult to remove the gaff when all fabric obscured my vision, but all was well and I eventually stood, and smoothed my dress. A glance into the mirror reminded me forcefully of how much I had changed, but now I accepted my appearance. Indeed, it was so 'right' that I was able to see myself more clearly than before even though I knew that I had drunk too much to imagine I was sober. I was pretty, I thought to myself, but maybe not as pretty as I had thought when I had first seen what makeup could do for a girl or boy. I leaned close to the mirror to see whether any beard was visible. Ophelia had made me shave extra close, and I still hadn't got to the point of needing to shave every day. I was satisfied that there was no tell-tale shadow to give away my true gender. I minced my way out of the bathroom to find Ophelia waiting for me. She allowed me to walk by her before she entered the bathroom and closed the door. "My turn!" she announced brightly as she passed me. "See you upstairs, honey." I turned to head towards the stairs. The hallway leading from the dining room to the entrance from whence the stairs led away had several passages opening off of it, leading to various areas of this enormous hotel. When I got to our room I sat on the bed and took of my heels, breathing a sigh of relief as I did so. I lay down with my back on the bed and my stockinged feet on the carpet, waiting for Ophelia to arrive. She was there within a couple of minutes and we took turns undoing each other's gown. I nibbled on her bare shoulders as I helped her out of her dress. She arched her head back as I moved my lips across her warm, satiny skin. I chewed lightly on her ear, and turned her slowly around to face me. By now I was out of my dress, but still wore my slip and the rest of my lingerie. I pulled down her dress, so that the tops of her breasts became visible. I gently moved the straps of her slip off of her shoulders and reached behind her to undo her bra. I lowered first one cup and then the other, revealing her firm breasts in all their glory. Her nipples, centered in her wide brown aureoles, were already erect before I began flicking my tongue across then while looking up at her face. Her eyes were half-closed and she murmured and moaned as I continued to suckle, nibble and kiss her breasts. Then she reached out and pushed me back a little. We took turns undressing each other. She treated my nipples, small and hard as they were, to the same attentions I had given her. It was the first time anyone had ever sucked or nibbled on my breasts, and the feel of her teeth biting at me was an extraordinary turn-on. I became in a rush to get us naked, but she refused to hurry. She made me kneel by her side to unfasten her nylons from her garter-belt and then I had to slowly remove her stockings while she sat on the bed, by now wearing only her panties. Unbidden I took each of her toes into my mouth, one at a time, sucking gently. We reversed roles and she undid my garters and removed my nylons, as I sat on the bed looking down at her with love and lust co-mingled. She sucked my toes and kissed the insides of my legs, moving slowly, slowly up to my panties. I was in a great deal of pain by this time since blood had been trying to engorge my penis for several minutes even though it was tightly bound by my gaff. Ophelia must have discerned my discomfort since she beckoned for me to stand. She pulled down my panties and helped me release my penis, which instantly sprang to full attention. She stood in front of me, so close that my penis was resting in the vee formed by her thighs, touching the front of her panties. We embraced, kissing passionately. We broke apart and she took off her panties and told me to lie on the bed, as she went into the bathroom for a second. I was lying on my back, with my penis raised like a flag-pole when she returned. She had two cylindrical objects, one in either hand. They looked suspiciously like erect penises, even to the color and the shape of the ends which protruded from her grip. She sat down on the bed and held these two objects out for my inspection. "It's time you learned some more 'girl' secrets," she said. "These are vibrators. You'll find out that we don't need men in order to have a good time! We can play with these and have the best of both worlds" "What's wrong with this?" I asked, petulantly, while indicating my cock, which had begun to flag with her words. "We've decided to be girls together, haven't we?" she replied. "That means you have to learn to enjoy sex as a girl would." Thus began my training in a different kind of sexual relationship; one in which my penis was very much an afterthought rather than, as I had thought in a self-centered manner, the main feature. She showed me, through placing my hands and through giving me instructions, how to stimulate her manually and with my lips and tongue. She licked and sucked on me as we lay together. Whenever I neared orgasm, she would back off and slow down, just stroking me softly. She had orgasm early, her body spasming as I lay between her thighs, her fragrant juices flowing and the smell of sex filling my head. She told me that one of the joys of girl-girl sex was the possibility of each partner having multiple orgasms. "Men usually have one orgasm, often without caring whether the girl has got off, and then most of the time they fall asleep!" she said. "You may still only be capable of one orgasm at a time, or at least you'll need a break before your penis can perform again. That's why you have to learn sex as a girl." She showed me how to use the vibrator on her. She was so wet that it slid in easily and I could feel it's motion against the palm of my hand when I pressed the button. She moved it in and out, her hand guiding mine as I held it between her legs. She came for a second time and lay back on the bed, breathing hard as I rested on one elbow looking down at her. She regained her breath and told me that now it was my turn. She turned over and reached across to pull open a drawer on the night-table beside the bed. I watched as she extracted a small plastic jar of Vaseline. "You'll need this for lubrication," she said. I was hesitant. I knew what I had to do but I wasn't sure that it was right. I remembered my decision as I had come upstairs: I would try my best, and ignore my old inhibitions. I took the proffered jar and twisted the top to remove it. I picked up 'my' vibrator from the bed where it had laid during our sex so far, and coated it with a generous layer of Vaseline. With Ophelia sitting beside me, giving me advice and encouragement, I placed a small pillow under my ass and spread my legs. Operating by feel and with some help from Ophelia I placed the tip of the vibrator against my sphincter. It felt cold. I swallowed nervously and took a deep breath while trying to relax. As I let out my breath, I pushed the vibrator inside. I felt my sphincter muscles resist and than part and the vibrator was inside. I had almost completely lost my erection while doing this, but as I pushed it deeper into me, I felt it touch something inside and my cock sprang fully erect. "Way to go, honey!" Ophelia beamed. "Now turn it on and move it slowly." I did so. Immediately my rectum, which felt disturbingly full, came alive. The plastic vibrator buzzed and I could feel it overwhelming me. I moved it back just a tiny amount and then deeper into me. It may have been my prostate that it was pressing against, but whatever it was, it was very stimulating. Ophelia let go of my hand, where she had been guiding my motions, and took hold of my penis. She masturbated me in time with the movement of my hand. As I neared orgasm she told me what to say out loud; what to cry out as loudly as I could, and I obeyed, unable while in the throes of passion to think of anything but this incredible pleasure I was experiencing. "I love being a girl," I yelled, "I love being a girl." Afterwards we lay still for a while, the vibrator now quiescent in my rectum, and my cum sticky on my lower abdomen. Ophelia herself seemed satiated and relaxed, her hands making slow circles around my nipples as we lay together. She finally roused the both of us and insisted that we shower, after first removing our makeup. After drying ourselves off, we chose matching red satin babydoll nightgowns and returned to bed, this time getting beneath the covers. "I will become your little girl tomorrow and learn how to be one properly." As I drifted off to sleep I thought back on this eventful day, and smiled as I thought of how tomorrow my life would change. End of chapter 1 If you liked reading this, please can you leave a review.