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The Conversation-Level Three free porn video
"The Conversation-Level Three"
(A continuation of "Stepfordville" from a different perspective)
It was a lovely, sunny morning in Stepfordville, US reeducation facility
#3, an exact recreation of small town America in the vintage 1950's. An
early 50's car pulls up in front of a pristine three bedroom ranch house
with attached double garage. Ms. Stanwyck, prison official, late forties,
genetic woman dressed in proper period attire exits the car and with her
purse straps dangling over her right arm she minces along in her strict
skirt suit towards the kitchen door of the house. Once at the back door
she notices the morning activity in the kitchen. She rings the doorbell
then touches the severe bun at the back of her head, checks her pinned on
hat and horn rimmed glasses and smooths her navy blue suit out as she
waits on her sensible three inch patent leather heels. The door opens to
reveal JoAnne Kenner, 28, Stepfordville, Level Three inmate number #19425.
"Ms. Kenner. Good morning," Ms. Stanwyck said with a brusk smile as JoAnne
stifled a gasp.
"Ms. Stanwyck! I...I didn't know it was today already. Come in, come in,"
JoAnne said slightly flustered as she opened the door. "We're just
finishing breakfast. Would you like breakfast or some coffee?"
"Coffee's fine," Ms. Stanwyck said as she entered the kitchen quickly
scanning the kitchen and how JoAnne was dressed and making sure she was
continuing to present herself as a proper vintage housewife. She took her
seat at the far end of the table as JoAnne brought cup and saucer, spoon
and napkin. Meanwhile Richard Benson, JoAnne's live in fiancee gulped the
last of his orange juice then grabbed up his briefcase. Ms. Stanwyck
looked on as he pulled JoAnne close, she watched her swoon bending a high
heeled leg at the knee as her dress and petticoat swirled and her shiny
vintage nylon stockings zipped as they shined in the light as Richard
pulled her close. He then kissed her fully on the lips in a deep kiss,
his tongue probing. "Gotta go. See you tonight dear. Ms. Stanwyck," he
said adding a greeting with a nod as he left through the kitchen door.
Moments later his car could be heard pulling away and driving off. JoAnne
was already busy clearing dishes as Ms. Kenner sipped her coffee and
looked on. She took some papers and a pen from her purse and unfolded the
contract like pages onto the table before sliding them aside.
"You keep an immaculate home Ms. Kenner," she said as she watched JoAnne
mincing about the kitchen, her hips swaying a bit more than usual
indicated that she was already performing her "wifely duties" for Richard,
and most likely that very morning. The nylons zipped and the white
taffeta petticoat that filled out the skirt of the shiny rayon house dress
rustled crisply, JoAnne's floral perfume floating in the air, and upon
further inspection her stocking seams were razor straight, her period
makeup flawless and not a hair was out of place on her feminine lacquered
hair set. The kitchen table was wiped down and the dishes were cleared
and quickly washed and left in the drying rack. JoAnne dried her hands on
a kitchen towel, she then removed her frilly woman's apron and hung it
under the sink then joined Ms. Stanwyck at the kitchen table.
"You look lovely today JoAnne dear," Ms. Kenner said. "Very feminine,
very proper and ladylike. I notice your reports for this entire Level
Three incarceration are all flawless. No complaints, no demerits at all,"
she said as she looked JoAnne over. She took a cloth tape measure from
her purse. "Stand up dear."
Ms. Stanwyck took her measuring tape and noted JoAnne's new trim waist at
a slim 24 inches. The hips, 36 inches, the bust, a buxom 38"D".
"Go ahead and take your seat again dear and unbutton your dress please,"
Ms. Stanwyck said as she jotted the measurements into her notes then
slipped on a pair of white latex gloves. She then moved behind as JoAnne
began unbuttoning the front of the dress. She slid it over her shoulders
then loosened the white satin straps on the lace trimmed full slip then
lifted her white Playtex bra up and out of the way exposing the very
feminine breasts. The areolae much larger now, like a woman's, the
nipples larger too and quickly becoming erect in the cool room air as Ms.
Stanwyck smiled and lifted each breast to see the fading and fully healed
incisions underneath from the augmentation for the saline implants she now
had. She then began to knead JoAnne's breasts!
"So lovely Ms. Kenner. So feminine. Tell me, do you feel feminine now?"
Ms. Stanwyck asked.
JoAnne hesitated at the question, the gears grinding now, flustering her.
But she had to answer. "Yes. I...I fe...feel..," she gasped, her
eyelashes fluttered as Ms. Stanwyck squeezed and kneaded a moment longer
then removed her gloves with a snap. JoAnne leaned forward, the pendulous
woman's breasts jiggling and swinging out in front as she pulled at the
cups of the bra and nestled each breast inside the white reinforced, lace
edged satin cups, the pink satin bow between the cups evident as she slid
her full slip back up and adjusted it then began buttoning her dress.
"I feel feminine," Ms. Stanwyck repeated.
"Yes! Of course I fe...feel feminine Ms. Stanwyck," JoAnne said
satisfying the sentence as Ms. Stanwyck smiled at the response.
"How does it feel now princess? Hummm dear?" Ms. Stanwyck chuckled and
smiled as she looked over this now feminized vision that had once been a
man. But little trace of any maleness remained, especially at Level
Three. "How are your 'wifely duties' coming along?" she asked.
"I tolerate it. I don't like it but I'm doing as I've been told," JoAnne
returned a bit humiliated.
"Well, men do have their needs you know. And you're so lucky to have Mr.
Benson for a finacee. We go to quite a bit of effort to assure that
suitable husbands are recruited into our release program. Of course, with
ladies as feminine as you it doesn't take much effort," Ms. Stanwyck said
with a giggle as she took another sip of her coffee. "Ah, be a dear and
heat this up for me, would you?" she added.
JoAnne got up and minced to the coffee pot on the stove and returned and
refilled the cup then returned the pot to the stove indistinguishable from
an actual June Cleaver, a proper vintage housewife in every way now!
She'd had all of her procedures, laser electrolysis, a bit of facial work
for higher cheekbones and that button nose, some voice feminization to
raise the pitch to a permanently feminine register now. And of course
upon being admitted into Level Three JoAnne had been put on a full dosage
of female hormones and had had "her" testicles clipped upon her last
arrival. It was fortunate that JoAnne was a short, slightly built and
nearly hairless male in the first place. The changes had been much easier
to accomplish. She took her seat back at the table as the inspection
continued.
"Well, I see you've been scheduled for full sexual reassignment on
Thursday. You'll report to the hospital on Wednesday afternoon and have
the procedure the following morning and if all goes well you should be
home recuperating the following Monday," Ms. Stanwyck said with
satisfaction as she looked JoAnne over as JoAnne's head spun!
"They say it's just a couple snips and some refashioning and it's done.
And after you heal up you'll find that you don't have to do it 'that way'
anymore," she chuckled. "It's just so fulfilling seeing our Level Three
inmates get released. You'll finally be fully cured Ms. Kenner. No more
compulsion to cross-dress, isn't that right? And hopefully, your feminine
instructions and dressing fully over so long a period of time has made
your new lifestyle second nature. It no longer matters if you still enjoy
wearing women's clothing though, because women in our society can't really
be cross-dressers now can they? And in your new lifestyle as a stay-at-
home full time housewife you'll continue on dressing fully as a vintage,
prim and proper feminine woman completely, each and ever day," Ms.
Stanwyck said with a lilting, feminine sigh, smiling as she noticed the
woman's engagement ring already on JoAnne's finger!
"The wedding is scheduled in two months time. Plenty of allowance for you
to heal up. But remember now, Richard isn't allowed to take you as his
new bride until after the ceremony. By then, you're paperwork will have
been amended to show you as Mrs. Richard Benson, Female. A bit of a
shortcut but once you marry Mr. Benson it'll be legal just the same.
You'll get your wedding band, the ink on the wedding contract will be dry
and everything will be fully finalized. Let me know when you'd like to
schedule the chapel and I'll take care of the arrangements. Do you have a
bridal party in mind dear? And of course what I am sure you've been
dreaming about, a trip to our dress and lingerie shop for your bridal gown
fittings and to pick out your trousseau. Won't that be exciting dear!?
Just imagine that glossy, shiny, vintage white satin wedding gown you'll
be zipped into. And all those swishy petticoats!" Ms. Stanwyck said it
with a lilting giggle but with a trace of vindictive knife twisting.
JoAnne's head spun. She was now stuck in irreversible, permanent, total
feminization with no way out, destined to live our her life as a woman, a
vintage housewife, and Ms. Stanwyck knew it.
Just then the kitchen doorbell rang. JoAnne got up to answer the door. A
friend of hers, female, formerly male, formerly an inmate, now named Joyce
who had taken the option of staying single, not wanting to be a "sperm
bank" for any man. Joyce had stayed on permanently and had taken a job
indoctrinating new and returning inmates. "Hi Joyce. Come in. Ms.
Stanwyck was nearly finished," JoAnne said with a smile as Joyce swirled
in. She didn't look quite as feminine as JoAnne but nonetheless it was
another near carbon copy of June Cleaver. Joyce gave Ms. Stanwyck a terse
smile. "Good morning Joyce dear."
"Well JoAnne, If you'll just sign these contracts we'll get your release
arrangements finalized. I'll look in on you later. So nice to see you
too Joyce," JoAnne slid the signed papers across the table. Ms. Stanwyck
finished curtly as she got up, gathered the papers then put her purse over
her right arm and left through the kitchen door. Joyce was already
digging through her purse for a cigarette. "Is the hag out of sight yet?"
"Yeah, on the way to her car," JoAnne replied as she closed the door then
turned to join Joyce at the kitchen table. For the first time these two
friends were able to drop their feminine personae's and as mute as any
male traits remaining that could be drudged up the two relaxed. "Want
some coffee? There's some left," JoAnne said as Joyce lit her smoke and
tossed the match in an ashtray. "Sure," she replied, holding the
cigarette between her lips at the side like a seasoned poker player, her
nyloned legs splayed as she slipped off her heels, put a foot over a knee
and massaged the ball of her foot. "Dyke Stanwyck. Cunt! You know she
wouldn't have ever lasted so long here if she didn't take such a perverse
sadistic pleasure at torturing people like us."
"That means so much, coming from a former man who torments males on a
whim," JoAnne laughed. "You still letting Howard feel up those silky
nylon clad legs of yours?"
"Oh yeah. Gotta have some fun don't I? I really got him the other night.
Let him fondle my legs all the way up this time and groove my slit. Of
course he got all hard in his pants as usual and then, bingo! Blew his
wad all over the front of his pants!" Joyce laughed.
"You bitch..." JoAnne hissed with laughter as she poured the coffee then
sat down.
"I don't know how you do it though, putting up with a man and all," Joyce
added.
"It's my only way out now. I can't stay here," JoAnne returned. "I'll be
going through surgery soon just like you did. The wedding's being planned
and then I'm out of here."
"And then you'll wait a while, squirrel away some money, find some normal
clothes then hit the road huh. We're a five-hundred miles from Canada you
know. And if you do make it and get yourself reassigned what will you do?
I agree that some of the bigger, uglier guys here have a problem but they
sure do a job on the short, slight and delicate lookers like us don't
they?" Joyce said. "You ever come back here you're dead on sight you know.
There won't even be a trial. The ultimate punishment for trying to undue
Stepfordville's work.
JoAnne's tenure was nearly through. But Richard Benson had applied for
his role of husband. The new women leaving Stepfordville were highly
prized, not everyone who applied made it through the exhaustive interview
and vetting process. The men had to be single, and be well-to-do, well
enough of to allow their future wives to be the classic, pampered stay-at-
home housewives that they'd been trained to be. All men were checked for
character, no wife beaters or assholes need apply. Stepfordville was
strictly regimented. Richard was staying in the town to get to know
JoAnne. After Richard was accepted into the program he met her at an open
Friday night dance in the local auditorium where nearly all meetings took
place. It took Richard several tries to get JoAnne to go out with him.
His briefcase job, an illusion during his stay, allowed him to leave
Stepfordville, park his vintage car outside the gate before hopping into
his late model Corvette. He was then free to travel into the nearby town
being mindful not to mention he was a suitor from Stepfordville. As time
went on Richard moved in with JoAnne and the plan and JoAnne's "treatment"
continued. JoAnne didn't hate Richard, but she certainly wasn't into men,
not even as an acquired taste! Yeah, Joyce knew it was a near certainty
that she'd thought about hitting the road as soon as she was released.
"You're what, 28 now? I remember because I'm exactly five-years older
than you are. What's Richard?" Joyce asked.
"I'm not sure really, mid 40's maybe," JoAnne returned.
"You know that by now Richard's probably had his procedure," Joyce added.
"Procedure? What procedure?" JoAnne wondered.
"Yeah. You wouldn't know that because you're not on staff here like I am.
Well, they'll send Richard to the clinic, have him work himself into a
Viagra induced hard-on then they do a casting," Joyce said.
"Casting!? What do you mean?" JoAnne wondered further.
"They'll make a plaster cast of his hard-on," Joyce explained. "Then when
you go in for your reassignment surgery, they'll have that mold to shape
your new vagina for a nice tight custom fit for Richard," Joyce finished
as JoAnne's head spun.
"They don't miss a trick here do they princess? And they're going to love
you in the real world too. You're pretty flawless now. Your only problem
will to be to try and 'de-train' yourself, because you're more feminine
now than any real woman, even a 1950's woman. But, you'll be a proper
housewife, you won't leave home that often, but when you do, you'll have
your lady friends, you'll be a monied socialite going to church bake sales
and ladies meetings and such. They'll never realize you were ever a man.
That's the whole idea of Stepfordville, an achievement they really relish
too," Joyce explained.
"But what for!? They've gotten what they wanted, they've 'cured' me
haven't they?" JoAnne gasped not understanding.
"It's so the punishment continues, so it never ends. And then, you'll
spend the rest of your days changing dresses three times a day, having
waxings, pedicures and having your hair and nails done twice a week and
going shopping every other day for more dresses, nylons, shoes, makeup and
lingerie and jewelry. You'll be buying a few evening gowns too, those
swirly layered nylon chiffon types for when Richard hits the town with you
for dinner or the opera or some other gathering. You'll attend ladies
lunches and teas. You'll be a genteel hostess to Richard's male friends
but only associate with their wives and other women and only talk about
women's things like real women do. And once you're healed up and married
and moved in with Richard he's going to make sure that new little pussy of
yours gets a nice tight stretching. You say he's in his mid 40's now?
Well princess, you can look forward to maybe twenty more years of getting
worked over. As I am sure Ms. Stanwyck's already mentioned: 'men have
their needs you know'. And with the training you've already had and with
the full immersion into the inescapable feminized lifestyle when Richard
is done fucking the last shred of maleness out of you you'll finally
become a Stepford Wife! That's where the joke of the name comes in.
You'll be real enough and human of course but just as exquisitely feminine
and vacant as you go about the remainder of your feminine days," Joyce
finished with a tinge of helplessness in her voice.
"Maybe I should have taken your option for awhile, to stay here and be on
staff," JoAnne gasped as her head spun.
"I'm still stuck here, but I have a bit more latitude, and, I get to tease
Howard and a few of the other male drivers now and then. I'm still a
Donna Reed just like you are. None of us are ever going to escape,
they've seen to that. But as time goes on I'm afraid you're going to come
to realize that your life is even more strictly regimented than a real
50's housewife," Joyce finished as JoAnne reached under the kitchen sink
and grabbed a large bottle of whisky, two glasses from the cupboard and
then opened the freezer to pull out an ice tray. The ice crunching as she
pulled the metal handle back.
"Wanna get drunk?" JoAnne asked as the large ice cubes tinkled into the
glass and the whisky splashed in, in large four fingered shots.
"Oh yeah," Joyce said as she took the glass, swirled it, gave a wink past
her eye-shadowed and false lashed eyelids. "Here's to bitch dyke
Stanwick!" Joyce finished by toasting and taking a large pull on the
glass. After a slight appreciative gasp she smiled and looked JoAnne
squarely in the eyes. "I never asked, what was it. What was the first
thing that got you into this mess anyway?"
"Nylons," JoAnne lamented.
"You still like 'em? Of course not the junk, scratchy mesh or stretch ones
or pantyhose either. I mean those expensive, vintage 100% nylon opera
length sheer hose. Those shiny, slippery ones that zip, "shick-shick-
shick" with every step and are gartered taut all the way up on the thighs.
The kind so slippery you can hardly keep your legs crossed sometimes,"
Joyce wondered knowingly. "You still like 'em?"
"Fuck yeah!" JoAnne returned.
Cheryl
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