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Okay, I got the idea for this story from a short article entitled "Hypnotic Transsexualizing" that appears on several sites, I'd like to credit the original author but was unable to identify them... If it was you and you happen to read this, thank you for the original idea - this story could not have been written without it. * * * All Girls Together by Writer345 1. Introduction - Dan Milly and I met when I was at University and she's a few years older than me. I won't say that it was love at first sight, well not on my part anyway. I don't know about Milly. All I can say was our paths had a habit of crossing. I was studying computing and was in my first year while Milly was on the University staff: an assistant in the stress councillors' office. I'd had a hard time getting adjusted and went for help, or just to find someone to talk too. It was Milly who fixed me up with an appointment and made me a cup of tea while I waited. I ended up talking to her and found that she was a good listener: sympathetic and thoughtful: I never did see the other councillors. She moved on into Business administration in the private sector but was working in the same city, so we continued our relationship. Birmingham is quite a big city with a population of over a million: but it didn't matter, I realised that I had found my true love. We married as soon as I graduated and I managed to get a job in the IT department of the firm that Milly worked for. We soon had a little daughter and when she returned to work, my wife's career really took off with a series of promotions... Great! We could afford a nice house outside the city and it seemed that we were set up for life. What do I mean, "seemed"? We really were set up for life, or should have been! 2. Introduction - Milly Dan was everything that I had been looking for in a man: he was younger than me and very impressionable.. I wanted a female-led-marriage, what woman doesn't? And it didn't take me long to figure out that Danny could also be happy if I was firmly in the driving seat, Oh, nothing cruel, nothing abusive: I wasn't going to humiliate him in anyway: besides, that sort of thing does not appeal to me. I don't get off by humiliating men, well not much anyway and certainly not nice ones. Besides, I wanted to build Danny up into someone that I could live with, so why would I want to destroy him? There's a whole heap of difference between training and humiliating. I spotted Dan in the throng of students at the University where I worked: I was on the counselling staff at the 'University of Central England' when I found him, a little lost soul. I'd been looking for a "Danny" for a couple of years and after several 'almosts', I found him in his first week. Then, after making a few enquiries it was time to begin work: I called in a few favours, I had some close friends in the admin section, including a bi-curious lady in the accommodation section. At my request she made a hash of the poor boy's room allotment. Then in rapid succession he had trouble getting his student loan approved, found that he was on the wrong course and finally was recorded as having grades below those required for his course... So far, so good. He was in a state of shock by the time that he found his way to the councillors' offices and I was able to take him under my wing and straighten out all of his problems. After that our paths crossed often! I made sure that they did. Dan never suspected that I was pulling his strings and as a result, he fell in love with me. So far so good. He graduated at the age of twenty one... I was already twenty nine, but I made sure that he was alright with that: boys are flattered to receive attention from an older, sophisticated woman and Danny was still very much a boy. I just had to prevent him from becoming a man. We were married within a couple of weeks of him graduating and by now I had left the University staff and secured an administrative position at one of the new biotech companies that were springing up around city. I managed to secure a position for Dan in the company's IT department where I could keep my eye on him and make sure that nothing and no one would upset him. 3. Introduction - Wendy I first met Milly in the Student's Union bar at University: she was deep in conversation with a weedy little geek of a guy. Frankly I was puzzled, I just couldn't see what she saw in him. Here she was: five- nine or ten and brunette. Okay she was no beauty, but there was an honest dependability about her. I had been sitting at the next table, alone as usual and had been watching her for about five minutes when she suddenly looked up and met my gaze. Her pale grey eyes seemed to look straight through me and into my soul. I heard her excuse herself, then she stood up and walked over. She leaned over my table and said very quietly, "You have problems." It wasn't a question. I was embarrassed that she had caught me staring at her so could only nod vigorously. She gave me one of her thoughtful, thin-lipped smiles as she regarded me for several seconds. "I'll see you at 10-20 tomorrow morning. You know where the councillor's office is?" I nodded again and felt myself blushing. "Be there!" she said forcibly then moved back to her own table. "Who was that, darling?" the little geek asked. She laughed. "Nobody, Dan, don't worry about him: he just needs my help, that's all." I felt myself blushing again and scooted away from her and out of the building, leaving my lemonade on the table... Nobody! Yeh, well that just about summed me up. I went back to my room in the Hall of Residence and opened my desk draw... There were two cards of sleeping pills there, I looked at them. Nobody! ...but she had found time to see me! I closed the draw with a loud slam. Not today: tomorrow, perhaps, but not today. I locked my door from the inside and turned out the main room light. I pulled the case out from under my bed and opened it. I shrugged off my boy-clothes and stared at the contents of the case: the pale blue cotton skirt and the white satin blouse... I was already wearing the white cotton panties and the bra. I slipped some padding into the latter, pulled on the blouse and the skirt and sat there in the dark for a couple of hours doing nothing except pretending that I was beautiful. Oh God, why me? I knew that this was one of the many things that I would have to ask the councillor, then she would be able to laugh at me behind my back afterwards, just like everyone else does. 4. Going Steady - Dan Being engaged to Milly is like a roller-coaster ride: there's ups and there's downs, there's sudden swerves but the speed never slackens and it's exhilarating. I think that my head has been spinning since we met and it seems that the only way that I can walk straight is to lean on her shoulder. Yes life has become one long series of crazy metaphors! Or at least it seems that it has when I try to write it down. Now I have always been a pretty straight guy and I mean that in more than a sexual sense. I've never been adventurous and I don't like sudden changes... Or at least I didn't until Milly took control of my life. I've been called a Geek, but then so have most science, maths or computer students; it never bothered me: okay I am not big - anywhere! I am five foot four in my stocking feet and weigh less than eleven stone (that's about 150 lb for any Americans who might read this). I'm slim to the point of being thin, but again, that does not bother me as I never much thought about my body image. Men don't tend to, or at least not as much as women do. I might be a Geek, but at this time I was a pretty good soccer player and being small and light with a good turn of speed I was a born winger. I got kudos by being a regular for the University's first team. Milly encouraged this: she said that she liked her men to be fit. I was a good player, but could never hope to become a professional, which I had dreamed of ever since I was a kid. I confided in Milly, hell, I told her everything (almost!) she smiled and told me that there was more to life than kicking a ball around, and if I liked, she would help me find it... Help me find the real "me" that was in there, somewhere! It was at the beginning of the second year: Milly and I had been engaged for about six months when the changes started: little things, nothing rushed, nothing pressured or forced: just little changes that all made sense at the time and seemed perfectly normal. The first one was hair: I'd always kept mine short. One day, we were out having a drink at one of the canal-side pubs that you can still find in Birmingham. It was a sunny early October Saturday and we were just sitting at an outside table enjoying the peace and quiet when I caught her frowning at me and asked what was wrong. She did not give me a straight answer, she never did; it seemed to be up to me to fathom out what she really was getting at and I almost always failed. "I've been going through our finances," she told me in a concerned voice. Well they were really her finances as I was living on a student loan. "Oh?" I asked somewhat puzzled over the sudden turn in the conversation. We had been discussing the sort of place that we wanted to buy when we got married, so I guess that it wasn't really a drastic change in the conversation. She leaned over the table and gave me a quick peck on the cheek and ran her hand over my crew-cut. "How much did you spend on that?" There was a slight hint of disgust in her voice. Taken by surprise, I stuttered out, "?9-50, special rate for students! I thought that you liked it?" She looked me straight in the eye and muttered, "I do, Danny: it makes you look manly." I felt on top of the world: she didn't compliment me very often - women don't, but she expected me to comment on her appearance all of the time. She looked thoughtful. "?9-50 twelve times a year... Why, that's nearly ?120 wasted! Here's me scrimping and saving out of my tiny salary to put a roof over our heads and to make sure that our children won't live on the street and here's you blowing ?120 on hair cuts!" I was taken aback and took a pull of my lager to hide my surprise. "But, Milly, you told me that you love the way I look!" She smiled. "I do, but we must both make sacrifices and besides, I think that you will really look cool if you let your hair grow just a bit longer! Its a beautiful colour: hundreds of girls would just die to have hair like yours!" she reached over and stroked my head again. "We'll let it grow a little bit, just to see how it suits you!" And that was the start of it. They say that true love never runs smooth. Well ours did, Milly made sure of that. By Easter, my hair was down to my ears and Milly spent a lot of time running her fingers through it and telling me that she was glad that I had derided to grow it long. Naturally, the money saved on hair cuts went into our savings account. I asked her about my student loan but she told me not to worry about it as she would deal with that side of things. I have to admit that my girl was brilliant with money and our savings account was growing as she found new ways to save. The next development came at Christmas when Milly homed in on the cost of my room and meals at the University Hall of Residence. "Do you know how much this is costing us?" she demanded. I nodded glumly. "But what's the alternative?" I asked hopefully. "You can move in with me: my flat is big enough for two with a few adjustments." - YES!! - But of cause I did not say it out loud, though I did punch the air behind her back. Molly's flat was five minutes away from the campus and even closer to the IT department than the Hall of Residence was! This really was a win - win situation. Suddenly I thought of a problem... My rent was paid until the end of the summer term. She just smiled sweetly. "I'm on the University staff, silly, just leave it to me, I'll see what I can do." A refund cheque arrived in mid-January but by then I already had my feet under the table in Milly's small flat... Or rather, I would have done if there was room for a table! There was one bedroom and naturally, as her fianc?, I slept in there: life really was good. I was sure that this was what being married would be like and my wife to be was really going to take care of me. 4. Going Steady - Milly Manoeuvring Danny into moving in with me was about as easy as I had thought it would be. He was a boy, after all and seemed to have only one thought in mind and that was poking a certain part of his anatomy into a certain part of mine; its not that I was against it, but it was going to be on my terms. If I wasn't prepared for him to sleep with me well I wouldn't have let him move in... but as I said, it was going to be on my terms! I introduced a few rules such as 'shower before bed'... I know what boys are like and I wasn't sharing a bedroom, let alone my bed with something that smelled like a polecat! He took it well although and to be fair, he wasn't a stranger to the idea of personal hygiene but he was just a typical boy who thought that there was no point in taking a shower after a soccer match as he would be playing again the following week! I took care of everything: I introduced him to skin care and then hair care: now that his hair was longer, he had to look after it. When it became straggly, I trimmed it for him: just to shape it and prevent him from looking like 'Worzle Gummage'. By July, it was framing his face nicely and I kept telling him how manly it made him look. At the start of his third year I began to pile on the pressure. He had very little body hair so it was relatively easy to persuade him to let me remove it for him: oh, I don't mean anything drastic, like electrolysis: that would have been too much of a give-away. Depilation cream was enough at that time and all I had to do was assure him that sex was much better if we both had smooth skin. Actually it wasn't because all that he had was three and a half inches... Well I did say that he wasn't very big: but what he lacked in size, Danny more than made up for it with enthusiasm and stamina. I tended to use sex as a reward: when he did something right; when he pleased me, I let him. If he 'goofed-off' or upset me then he had to make his own entertainment. Just before Christmas in that third year, I decided to begin breaking him in. He wasn't macho: that would have been a real turn-off, but I had to begin domesticating him. It was for his own good, after all. The first thing that had to go was the soccer. Oh, sure, I encouraged him to play, he was quite good and clearly loved it. Discouraging him or trying to ban him from playing would have had the opposite effect so I manoeuvred a few obstacles into his path. Firstly I kept reminding him of just how important his studies were: how my earning power was much less than his and how we would be relying on him once we were married and were starting a family. Then a couple of days after one game, I microwaved his football boots. I knew that this trick shortened the life of trainers which is essentially what his boots were - trainers with studs. Nothing happened for a week or so, but eventually they began to fall apart as the soles separated from the uppers. I looked at them with him and pointed out just how expensive they were: glumly he agreed. We looked at our finances - and no! They just wouldn't run to a new pair so he used a tube of superglue in an attempt to make running repairs. He was quite successful, or at least I convinced him that he was. Then half way through the first half of his next match, someone passed him the ball and he swerved to intercept the pass and his boot came to pieces causing him to sprain his ankle... Success! No more boy-sports. Oh, I was ever so sympathetic. He was hobbling around looking glum so I took him to bed to cheer him up which worked very well. The next week I "forgot" to wash his underwear: he only had three pairs of boxer-shorts and money was still tight... "Oh, Milly, I'll just have to wear a dirty pair!" he almost wailed. I gingerly picked a pair out of the linen basket and held them up pantomiming disgust as I did so. "If you want to stink, I can't stop you but don't think you are going to wear these around me!" "What can I do?" he pleaded. Suddenly I had an idea, or rather pretended too. I opened my linen draw and pulled out a pair of white cotton panties. "Here, these are clean: you can wear some of mine!" He looked and sounded horrified. "But they are women's! I can't wear those, people will laugh!" "Oh?" said menacingly. "I wear them and no one laughs at me. Who are you planing on showing them too?" He blushed and held out a hand. When he pulled them on, his tiny penis hardly made a bulge in the front. I smiled inwardly. "Uncomfortable, are they?" I asked sympathetically, trying to sound concerned. "Umm, no, they are a good fit, actually," he mumbled. They should have been, I had bought them specially and they were his size: he never twigged that mine would have been loose on his slender boy-hips. "Fantastic!" I said. "This is another way that we can save money: I've got more than enough to be going on with so you can wear mine from now on!" After he had gone out, I consigned his boxer shorts to the rubbish sack - the panties were here to stay, I even bought him some nice satin ones for Christmas and he was ever so surprised at how comfortable they were! About a week later I moved him on a tiny bit by complaining that he kept sprinkling on the toilet floor and was really making it smell, He looked crest-fallen so I suggested that "if he was having trouble with the panties, he could always pee sitting down." Poor lamb looked panic stricken, but as I pointed out it was easier than having to mop the floor every time. I know he took the "suggestion" on-board because I rarely found the toilet seat in the up position though previously he hardly ever left it down. I left it at panties and peeing for the moment: I didn't want to make any permanent changes yet, although as his hair grew, I surreptitiously trimmed it into a slightly more girly style each time and complimented him as to how masculine it made him look. His little chest puffed up when I told him this little white lie: the male ego is such a wonderful thing. Half way through the spring term, I left my job at the University and moved over to a post as Financial Director at a Biotech Company that had recently opened up in Halesowen, just outside the city and my salary more than doubled overnight. Of cause I did not tell my Danny about the money as I did not want him feeling secure, not yet anyway. The Company was owned and managed by Brenda, a friend of mine, who I had met at the "Club": I've mentioned the club before, haven't I? I haven't? Oh, well... It's a "Lady's" club situated in Edgbaston, one of the posher parts of the city. Its quite respectable in that it has a strictly no men rule. Its called "The Fish on a Bicycle" which is an odd name, which I won't go into yet: its a highly exclusive club that I have been a member of ever since I moved to Birmingham ten years earlier. Yes, it is a Lesbian Club, which suits me, as you will probably have guessed by now. Brenda Forbes had been on to me to come and work for her for some months but I had put it off until I thought that the time was right... Danny was in panties, so I felt that I had enough control to make the next move. 5. Going Steady - Wendy Milly probably saved my life. She realised that I was suicidal and got me in touch with the "Samaritans" within an hour of me going to see her. Why was I suicidal? Gender Dysphoria, I think they call it. I was a chick in a guy's body which was worse than being trapped - it was a life sentence. I needed help to transition and Milly knew it. At her suggestion, I tried to contact my parents and let them know what I was going through, but I received the response that I was expecting and all of a sudden I was on my own and penniless. No parental support and parental contribution withdrawn! Well you see, Dad was a Moslem Iman, a priest, if you like. Islam told him that he could never be wrong or be disobeyed in matters of religion: so as far as he was concerned, I was an abomination in that I was at odds with Allah as regards the sex that he had ordained me to be. I won't say that he is behind the times, but anybody visiting our house would be advised to set their watches back by four hundred years. Milly took charge and got me into temporary accommodation and out of the University... Well I was only a few months into a three year course. I needed a job but she told me not to worry and that she knew the very thing which is why I became "Wendy". Wendy, a Moslem shemale working in the bar at a lesbian club: if that isn't multicultural, then nothing is... Next I really burned my boats by sending the family a Christmas card with a picture of me all dolled- up and at work. I must say, the long black wig really suits me although I do look forward to the time that I won't need it any more. Milly soon had me on female hormones and male hormone blockers. I kidded myself that I could feel the difference almost immediately but self delusion has always been something that I am good at. Never the less even though I loved that gorgeous wig I began to let my hair grow... I was going to become a woman now and women have long hair. Milly came to the rescue with a simple suggestion that she assured me would solve a great many problems all at the same time... Then things began to move rapidly and I was no longer in control: it was no longer my life it seemed to be Milly's to direct as she saw fit. There aren't any Moslem women like Milly, well not according to my Dad, there aren't. According to him women must be docile and obedient to the wishes of men at all times, just like he pretends that it says in the Koran. By now, I pity my Father: the world is rapidly leaving him behind but he is determined not to notice. I often wonder if that is why so many of his calling wear dark glasses? By the time that Milly had sorted everything out, I was living in the staff quarters at the back of the club and it was a Wednesday morning when she brought a couple of Indian-looking women into my room. Although I had not worked there long, I recognised them both as members: they were introduced to me as Doctors Khan and Kaur. They were carrying a large sports bag and making a house call... 6. Manipulating the Weaker Sex - Milly Although it seems that I had two projects on the go, one of them was just a sideline. Dan, my fianc? was the one to which I directed most of my time and effort. Akhmed was really more of a hobby! Poor little mite was close to suicide: I say "little mite" but he was nearly six foot tall. I had a limitless supply of the male hormone blocker "Androcur", courtesy of my future employers who marketed it so I put him onto a massive dose straight away: it didn't matter to me or him if it did stop him from performing. Akhmed had several times complained that he found his sex organs to be repulsive and he wished that he could be rid of them. Danny was about to go onto a very weak dose: enough to damp down his urges but not enough to stop him performing... The dose would also have the effect of calming him down so that he would not be distracted during his final exams. The weeks ticked by and Danny threw himself into his University work and came through with a BSc (Honours 2.1): a good degree. I let him make most of the plans for our wedding while I spent some time with my other "lady". Okay, why the interest? Well its simple, really: I hate many things: injustice; unfairness and waste amongst them. I don't hate men: I just feel sorry for them. Okay, opinions are very mixed at the club and I've heard most of them: usually stridently uttered as a result of overconsumption of alcohol. Akhmed, I felt sorry for: he didn't want to be male and I helped him because I could. A couple of the club members, both doctors, took things along further and faster than I was able. Guess I'll have to stop calling him "him" now. They gave him a full medical check-up, carried out the procedure and proscribed a course of female hormones, which was completely legal and above board. The lad had become "Wendy" as a result of a couple of little snips so everyone was happy, although it will take her a few days to recover from the procedure. As it is me that has initiated the course of action I guess that it is my responsibility to teach her to act like the woman that she wants to become. Wendy will have to go all of the way and that meant a hell of a lot more surgery in the future. My Danny is another matter: he's becoming more submissive, but he isn't transgender, or even a transvestite - yet! It will take a lot more guile to feminize him, especially as it will have to be his idea. But he's the one I want and its going to be a lot of fun changing his mind and body bit by bit. We have set the date for our wedding, it will be in the middle of August, and it will be a white one and I will be the one wearing the dress! Come on... Virtually every girl, straight or gay, wants a white wedding; doesn't she? I do and I'm no exception. Actually Danny and I were guests at a wedding at the end of July: the service was a traditional one except for one small detail: there were two brides. I think he was in shock for much of the service because he was very quiet. Afterwards the photographer fussed around and justified his existence while the girls held up pieces of cardboard with the words "groom" and "bride" scrawled on them in lipstick which raised a happy chuckle from the guests. It also made me think... Could I get Danny into a wedding dress too? Oh, how I wish that I had thought of it earlier. He would look beautiful! At the reception I took the chance to introduce him to Wendy, my bridesmaid: I had a feeling that they would be seeing a lot of each other during the coming months and years and naturally I wanted them to become friends. 7. The Weaker Sex Being Manipulated - Danny That Wedding was a bit of an eye-opener. I'd never been to a lesbian wedding before and didn't know that there was such a thing. Sure I knew that gay marriage was now legal in the UK: it had been all over the papers for a couple of years and the "Daily Mail" was stridently against it AND in favour of it at the same time: no change there, then. But a wedding with two brides was something that I found strangely erotic: I hadn't realised it before, but lesbians really seemed to turn me on. At the reception afterwards, Milly introduced me to her friend, Wendy, who was a tall, slim Indian girl. By tall, I mean around the six foot mark, but there was something about her: it may have been her height, or her husky voice or her beautiful long black hair or her smouldering hazel eyes; I don't know, but she was as sexy as hell! I decided there and then that I would encourage my fianc? to spend more time with her, just so that I would get more of a chance to meet her again. No: time was going on and Milly and I were married early in August: it was, as my wife had requested, a white wedding even though no church was involved. Many hotels and other venues had cashed in on the relaxation of the law that had taken place a few years before and we were married at a hotel in Edgbaston. My mother and sister were my only family to attend as I don't think that there was anyone else left at the time: my dad had been killed by the IRA in Northern Ireland when I was only two, so I could not remember him. He had been a policeman on attachment to the Royal Ulster Constabulary. Needless to say, mom had never really recovered from his death. Milly did not seem to have any relatives, or at least none that she was close too. She always claimed to be the "Black-Sheep of the family": but it was a family that I never met. The Wedding was well attended though: mainly by our University friends, who seemed to be there for the booze, and by Milly's work colleagues although oddly enough, they seemed to be there for the same reason! Still, it was memorable, although there were a couple of breaks from tradition: one was that it was Milly's boss who gave the bride away: remember, there was a total lack of male relatives available to carry out the duty and by the twenty-first century, who the hell cares? The Honeymoon was in the Channel Isles: Jersey to be precise. Milly said that we could not afford anything more upmarket. Not that I was bothered as it was the first holiday that I'd had since I was a little kid. Well we made the most of it and had sex as often as was physically possible: if this was married life, I could not get enough of it. I now had a loving wife to look after me and take care of my needs: what man would ask for anything more? 8. Transforming the Weaker Sex - Milly The Honeymoon achieved everything that it was intended too... I lay back and thought of the future while Dan did his best to perform as a loving husband should. He was clumsy but did his best. Sex was no longer rationed and wouldn't be until we got home. I had been off any form of birth control for several months and by midway through the second week, my test kit confirmed that one of his little wrigglers had done its job and I was pregnant and had been for sometime. Thanks, Danny, you've done your duty! Now for the next stage of my plan! I love you dearly: but I'll love you even more soon. I hadn't had time to get Danny into a wedding gown... A failure of advanced planning on my part but it wasn't going to happen again. I might have been working as an accountant but I did have a degree in Behavioural Psychology: which was ideal for what I was planning. I was going to re-write Dan's psyche... Actually I had already started but it was time now to move up a gear. Luckily he was straight: its a whole lot harder with a gay guy; but then I had no interest in gay guys as they would not be interested in me. My plan began with some research, I was pretty sure that I knew my husband but to be on the safe side I found out everything that turned him on: yes, that's right, I had him him describe his dream girl to me. Bit by bit I had him fill in all the outline: I already had a good idea, but now I needed the fine details. Then, using hypnotic amplification procedures, I increased his desire for every part of this dream woman to the point of obsession: every good psychologist has a reasonable working knowledge of hypnosis; its one of the tools of the trade. We went over his ideal woman time and again: her sweet red lips, her long silky hair, her long curved eyelashes, her high cheek bones, her sexy make-up, her sweet perfume, her feminine face, her earrings, her slender neck, her smooth skin and narrow shoulders, her dainty hairless arms, sleek fingers and long painted fingernails, then we moved on to... Her wonderfully firm breasts and narrow waist, her side hips and rounded arse, her lush, moist vagina and the incredible pleasure it brings, her long slender legs and petite feet. Over and over again, both conscious and in a trance until I could almost see Danny's ideal woman and hey! I fancied her too! It was at this stage that I began to "accidentally" refer to him as "Danielle": its easy to make a slip of the tongue like that... Over the weeks, I made his desire for that perfect girl grow until it was so unbearable and he must have all these feminine parts within reach. I increased it again until it turned into a burning jealousy of the very women who have them. Hypnotically he came to realize just how unfair it was that women had them, while he didn't, and how wonderful it must be to have a body like that. Oh, I put him through hell - in a nice way of course. We reached a watershed just as I planned: I manoeuvred him into agreeing with me and that was it; he was lost. The hypnotic conditioning became more subtle and he was made to hallucinate and experience the bliss of becoming his dream girl. It was at this stage that he experienced the pleasure and excitement of dressing in his dream girl's clothes; actually, I couldn't prevent it and Danielle looked beautiful in them, though I do say so myself. I admit that I was not his dream girl - I wanted something fantastic from him and I was just too tall and too plain. What I really wanted was a proverbial 'trophy wife' and this was what he was going to become. I carried on and began putting him into deeper and deeper trances. His agony turned to delight as I helped him explore his perfect feminine body in the virtual reality of hypnosis. I also let him experience a mind shattering female orgasm. Then, while he is basking in the afterglow, I took it all away and returned him to the reality of his pathetic male body which he would never again see with anything other than contempt and disgust. He has tasted paradise, and regaining became his only goal in life. From that moment, he was a functional transsexual, and enthusiastically cooperated with my feminization of him as I helped him become more like his dream woman. The one that he had once desired but now mortally envied. Ironically, this change was now easier to achieve because it made sense through every layer of his being. What was I after? Well a sissy was out: I wanted my Danielle to go 'all the way': but as what? A lipstick lesbian, what else? She was so into the feminine form that anything else would be repulsive to her. She was wanting to be feminine, and be with women. Women are perfection as far as she is concerned. In other words, they were beauty personified. Everything else was inferior. I didn't want her to be bisexual: why waste her on men? No, she would despise them when I was finished with her. Neither did I want a shemale as a wife: oh, there are attractions which are easy to imagine: a woman with a dick has many advantages: but the maintenance is harder and besides, I am not really into dicks, although I had allowed Dani's into me. When she had one that still worked, that is, and I had made sure that hers would never work again. How? Well I work for a Biotech company, remember? I had access to a large range of testosterone blockers and female sex-hormones and their derivatives, some of which were experimental. Danielle had been on a steadily increasing course of both since the end of our honeymoon. Oh she still played with her penis but was no longer capable of having an erection and when we made love it was either very similar to our old foreplay or it was oral or both. She loved it when I took her floppy little organ into my mouth - I wasn't too wild about this but never let on. Well fairs fair, isn't it? With a little guidance, she was becoming quite good at cunnilingus and giving her a blow job encouraged her to enjoy oral sex. Besides, her soft little willy wasn't going to be around for much longer so I wouldn't have to tolerate it in my mouth for much longer. Once the events had been started they fed on each other and by the end of October Danielle was a woman in all departments but one. But it was now that external factors in the shape of Dani's mom tried to interfere: to say that she wasn't best pleased by events since the wedding was an understatement. She arrived unannounced on a surprise visit/inspection... And what a surprise she had! It took her several seconds to realise just who the beautiful brunette who answered the door actually was. "Hi Mummy!" Dani gushed. "A!... ... ... EEK!!!" "Do come on in," my wife invited. Wide eyed and gibbering slightly, my mother-in-law tottered in on her high heels and was led into our lounge. I neglected to mention that we had moved out of my poky little flat and into a large four bedroom house just outside Halesowen which was much more convenient for work and yes, Dani was still working - just! She was still in shock when Dani handed her a cup of coffee and we all sat down to catch up on news. She took the announcement that I was pregnant in good stead and didn't bother counting the months. But her son's transition into girlhood was just too much for her and she freaked. It did not take much of an imagination to realise that we were off her Christmas card list. She left after about half an hour and Dani was panic stricken. "I didn't tell you, but mom is a lawyer: a barrister actually she's going to interfere, I know she is. Please, Milly do something: I want to become a woman but I've a feeling that she'll do anything to stop us!" I realised that we would have to move a lot faster than I had originally anticipated. My mind was racing... I picked up the phone and rang for a doctor. Within half an hour Doctors Kaur and Khan arrived carrying their large sports bag: and used our oak dining room table as a makeshift operating table. They went to work and within an hour Dani had taken an irreversible step along the road to womanhood. The girls had done their usual neat job of going in at the top... Complicated, but they wanted to preserve the sac intact so that the skin could be used to create a vagina at a later date. My darling would be sore for a few days, but as the incision was only half an inch, it would heal in a very short time. The doctors agreed that the sooner Dani's transition was complete, the better and said that they would supply the necessary paperwork to the surgical team that would "prove" that Danielle had been living as a woman for a shade over two years. This and a few pulled strings meant that the final surgery would take place in the new year so neither of us would be complaining. 9. Transforming the Weaker Sex - Wendy Thanks to Milly I have become one big 'X'. I am an ex-Moslem; an ex- male; an ex-student and an ex-'only son'. Also, my mental health problems seem to have faded away: I am no longer suicidal or even depressed: it seems that everything else stemmed from the gender dysphoria and now that that is being treated... Yippee!! Milly got married in August: it was a white wedding and I was her bridesmaid: oh it was an honour, a real honour. Things are changing rapidly: I still live on the top floor of the club along with the rest of the live-in staff. None of the other girls seem to care that I'm a transwoman: the general attitude seems to be that it was not my fault that I was born male. I wish the rest of the world was as accepting. My sexuality hasn't altered with my transition so I'm a lesbian although I still haven't found a permanent girlfriend, but I am sure that I will. As a boy I lacked confidence: I didn't like the way that I looked; I didn't like the shape of my body; I didn't like the way that I smelled; I didn't like the body hair; I didn't like... Me! But when I look in a mirror now I can see a six foot tall brown-skinned beauty looking back at me. That horrid, nasty boy that used to stand in front of her and block my view... Well he's gone and good riddance to the pest. The tall, slim woman with the long black hair always has a smile for me whereas that horrid smelly boy just used to scowl: I hate him! I hate him! I hate him! I work in the various bars and rooms of the club, which incidentally has a wonderful name: "The Fish on a Bicycle". Its motto is: "A Woman Needs a Man like a Fish needs a Bicycle". Inside the entrance hall is a large plaster relief of a tubby goldfish balancing on a pushbike while trying to pedal with its tail. I think that that also stands for just about the whole of my life to date. The club is set in a couple of acres of parkland and is surrounded by an eight foot stone wall that is backed up by a CCTV system and ground radar. If anyone tries to climb in, alarms go off and the Police are called. Oh yes, they always come: you see one of our members is an Assistant Chief Constable. But enough of that! Milly is fantastic: she takes care of problems although I have to admit that I was taken completely by surprise when she married a man. I never even imagined that she was even slightly bisexual. Although having seen how she has brought out his inner woman, I should have realised that she had long-term plans for him. Dan was a weedy looking geek who no one would glance at twice: Danielle, however is a shapely 5'4" pocket-Venus. I first met her at the beginning of November, when Milly brought her into the club for the first time. I must say that many heads were turned that night. And what a sight they made on the dance floor... I'll be honest, I could not believe that Dan and Danielle were the same person. Okay they both had the same shade of brown hair and were the same height but that is where the similarity ended. Dan had been hesitant and apologetic while Danielle was confident and out going. I was not working that night and Milly invited me to join them. After an hour, I was in love and my little wee-wee was trying to stand at attention. Its a fallacy that a neutered shemale can no longer get an erection: many can, it is harder but still possible. For some reason, I fell into the latter group. I had to sit down to hide my embarrassment. Oh I danced with Danielle and she noticed and led me back to the table. She was amused but sympathetic although I gathered that she did not share my problem.. I learned that Milly was pregnant and that she was expecting the happy event in March, so the baby would not be born until after Dani's final surgery. Milly intended to return to work as soon as possible which meant that Danielle was going to be mother to the baby. Well as Milly pointed out: "She has beautiful breasts so why not put them to the use that nature intended?" Me? Well I could think of lots of other uses and was itching to give them a good fondle. Dani had been receiving female hormones for longer than me and so had better breasts. On top of this she was going to get implants during her operation... I could hardly wait to see the final result. My own surgical procedure was booked for July next year and no, I wasn't jealous that Dani was going under the knife ahead of me: I was happy for her. The one I was Jealous of was Milly! Okay... Okay: so I'm jealous of my benefactor: I know that I am and that is the one thing that makes me uneasy, I don't want to hurt Milly, I really don't - but Danielle: wow! I love her. 10. All Girls Together - Milly (and Danielle). Christmas was a quiet family affair: just Dani, myself and the bump, which at six months was beginning to show. It should have been a lovely Christmas as it was the last one that we would celebrate on our own. Dani had put on weight in all of the right places: the female hormones directed it to her hips, arse and breasts which were a genuine 'B' cup. We were pleased by the development, but I was not satisfied: I wanted everyone's head to turn whenever she walked into a room. She was my wife after all. Sex had slipped into the background somewhat when the combination of female hormones and surgery had stopped her little penis from working. In a fortnight the nasty little thing will be gone for good! Incidently, it was a good job that I had had her operated on when I did because her mother tried to get a Court Order to delay any surgery until a judicial review could be carried out to prove that she was not being forced to make the change. And knowing Dani's mom, this process could take years! Luckily Dr Kaur had been able to testify that it had already begun and Mother-in-Law realised that she was too late so gave up gracefully when faced with a fait accompli. We still sent her a Christmas card though: and I am keeping her up to date with news of the baby. She'll hopefully come round when she realises that the transformation was Dani's idea. Well Dani is convinced that it was, so who am I to argue? As I was saying, sex had kind of slipped into the background: oh, we still had lots of kisses and cuddles, but all out sex had somehow ceased. Dani had wanted lingerie for Christmas... You know, the full works from Victoria's Secret. But there wasn't much point as her body was still transitioning and would change a lot more over the coming months. I asked her to be patient and bought her something else: a strap-on and as a result Christmas Day ended about four o'clock in the afternoon when I took her to bed with a bottle of Champagne so that we could celebrate in style. I suppose that I was being selfish as the strap-on was really for me to use on her, although I had convinced myself that she would enjoy it. In bed and slightly drunk, I fitted the dildo into the harness, and with my darling's help, buckled it around my hips. The dick was one of the new traslucent ones. You may have seen them, they're made of softer, more flexible plastic and not the hard stuff that they used to use. I applied the lubricant: Dani squirmed as the tube squirted the cold gel into her arse hole. "Oooh!" she yelped as, none too gently, I worked it into her sphincter with my finger. "Sorry, Danielle, I was a bit rough." I apologised for my impatience and helped her into a kneeling position and then had her bend forward so that she was on her hands and knees. Then balancing on one knee, I gently eased the seven inch plastic toy into her. Her pillowy arse quivered delightfully as I did so. No one would know that just months before it had been a bony male rump: a skinny representation of what a real arse should be. "Ahh! Ah!" she gasped: clearly I wasn't gentle enough. I apologised again and shuffled forward. She tried to pull away but I grabbed her side hips and thrust into her. I was determined to pop one of her cherries as my Christmas present; and, yes, I was too eager and probably performed more like a clumsy adolescent male than a loving woman should. "Oooo!" she squealed and again tried to pull away but I was having none of that and eased back slowly. "Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Be gentle, please be gent... Ahhhh!" She pleaded but I didn't listen and ploughed forward again. I should have remembered that she had a virgin arsehole, but I didn't. Her front end collapsed and she grabbed the pillow and sobbed into it. I tried to set up a rhythm: ease back slowly, thrust forward. Ease back slowly, thrust forward. Each thrust was accompanied by a gasp that was muffled by the pillow that she was digging her fingers into. Selfishly, I took the gasps as a sign of passion and not pain. Christ! What was I thinking? I should have started her off on something smaller: something slimmer. But no! I had to feed her the whole seven inches as her first experience of anal sex. She began to quiver and then shake, but I just carried on slamming into her regardless: she was mine to use exactly as I wanted. Well wasn't she? Something happened: she shrieked and gasped just as the force from base of the dildo hitting my mound rhythmically brought me to a descent climax. I twitched, and slipped out of her. I must have lain twitching for almost a minute wrapped up in a post orgasmic after-glow before I realised that the sobbing sound was coming from my poor wife. What had I done? I'd hurt her, that's what I'd done. Oh sure: I'd convinced myself that she had wanted it, but had I really given her any choice? I am bigger and stronger than she is. And had made full use of the fact to have my way with her. I was full of remorse: I'd hurt her. How would I have liked it if she'd done it to me? I hugged her. "Oh, God! Dani! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I gasped over and over again. She rolled over and slapped my face as hard as she could: not that I blamed her. I didn't pull away but put my arms around her beautiful naked body and hugged her as gently as I could. I felt low but that was nothing to how I felt after she asked me a simple four word question. Oh Dani, what have I done that deserved that question? Four words that put me under a microscope. Four words that illuminated what I had done. "Did you enjoy that?" Four words that cut me to the quick. I must have held her for over an hour: all of the time praying that I hadn't lost her. I'd slept with many women in my thirty something years of life, aye, and a handful of men too. But my Danielle was the first that I had really loved. Was it because she was a creature that I had created myself? One that I had designed and re-made for my own selfish purposes? But needless to say, I felt far from God-like at that moment - I actually felt sick. "Is sex always like that for a woman?" she asked plaintively. "Does it always hurt like hell?" 11. All Girls Together - Wendy (and Danielle). Christmas was over, not that it was much of a Christmas, anyway. The Club was closed until two days before the New Year as everyone with a home went there and stayed with their families. There were about half a dozen of us with nowhere to go and we kind of huddled together for comfort. I didn't see Milly or Dani until after the operation on the seventh of January when we all took it in turns to visit her in hospital and, God, didn't she look a mess? I don't know what they'd done, but she looked like she'd been hit by a truck and a big one at that. She was in traction: something about widening her hips. Because she couldn't move. There were more tubes going in and out than there were behind our bar. Oh they had really gone to town on just about everything from her crotch right up to her face which was also under several layers of dressings. You name it and they seemed to have tinkered with it. They'd even tightened her vocal chords to raise her voice by over an octave. They'd pared-down her jaw and Adam's Apple: not that either had been prominent before and had done things to her tits that were obvious to even the casual observer. It hit me... Come July, I was going to look like that! HELP!! One of my colleagues from the club led me out and calmed me down with great difficulty. Dani was released from hospital after ten days - no doubt they needed the bed for a private patient. Then we all took it in turns to visit her at home. I guess I must have been around there most days... I hoped that Milly didn't notice, but I fancied her wife like crazy. Mind you, she had plenty on her mind as she was due in about six weeks and was imagining just about everything going wrong. It was us girls from the club that decorated the baby's bedroom for them: Milly had enough to do nursing the patient without taking up painting and decorating at that late stage. I asked them if they wanted a boy or a girl and received a strange reply. Milly assured me that what ever it was it would be a girl!. I shrugged and laughed at her joke until I noticed that neither of the prospective parents were laughing. Turns out that Dr Khan would fiddle the baby's first examination and record the wee thing's sex as 'female': whatever it actually was. Whether Melanie was a boy or girl, I never did find out but as far as everyone was concerned, she was going to be 'she'. 'She' was born on the eighteenth of March and was a happy, smelly little thing that cried and poo-ed a lot: not that the ecstatic moms seemed to mind. She was eight pounds in weight. Is that big for a baby? I don't know: I was just glad that I would never have to give birth to one and find out because she sure looked big to me. Dani gave up her job - actually she had not worked since just before Christmas. This meant that the birth-mum could resume her career very quickly. Did I mention Danielle's new big tits? She was only a slim 5'4" so on her the "C's" looked like "DD's" and she did confide to me that she didn't know how she would cope with them: but cope she did. Then Dr Kaur came around and gave her an injection: prolactin, I think it was called and within half an hour she was breast-feeding her daughter. Me? I didn't think it was possible for a transwoman to do that... Shows how much I know, doesn't it? Turned out that Dani had another surprise in store... She was really maternal and a good mother too. She loved that little girl and didn't mind how smelly her nappies were. Good job too because I never saw Milly change the baby - not ever. She left it all to Danielle, who, as I have said, didn't seem to mind. I took to the baby too and was always around the house when I wasn't working. I always got a real welcome from the girls: we were both Milly's prot?g?s after all and I like to think that she wanted to keep her eye on me... Not well enough, as it happened. If I am honest, which I tried not to be; it was Dani that I wanted to be with. The baby was just an excuse: it was all Dani as far as I was concerned. I was in love with another woman's wife. (And that is a sentence that you don't read every day.) It was mid May, and as Milly was away for the weekend at a conference, I took some time off and stayed over to keep Danielle company. Her operation sites had all healed and she confided to me that she was dying to try out her new equipment. I must have looked confused because she leaned over, half stood and kissed me on the cheek. Yes, I'm a bit of a bean-pole, remember? 5'11" in my stockinged feet so most girls have to stand on tippy-toe to kiss me... We were both sitting on the couch and it was still a stretch for Dani. I must have grabbed her to kiss her back because the next thing I remember where her eyes staring into mine at point-blank range. We sat in silence for about half an hour, or rather, I sat - Dani curled up with her head on my lap. Suddenly she broke the silence. "I haven't seen much of Milly since Mel was born... "And, no! We haven't done it since Christmas Day." she finished in her quiet, sad voice. It felt as if my heart skipped a beat. "Why? What's wrong, my darling?" I asked: half sympathetic and half hopeful. Hesitantly, she told me what had happened; how Milly had been very rough with her... "Oh, she didn't force me to: I was willing to let her: but God... The pain. I'd never been entered..." She hesitated. "...by, you know. By the back door and it hurt like Hell." she was sobbing now: the memory of her husband violating her body was too much for her. I guess it was empathy but tears were coursing down my cheeks also. "Oh Dani..." I was lost for words for a moment. "What did she use?" I was horrified but attracted. "Strap-on. About seven inches long but really thick and she seemed to bang it into me for hours." By now her tears were making my jeans wet but I didn't care as I sat there stroking her beautiful glossy red- brown hair. "She really got off on it and came: I mean really came but me? I just sobbed." She rolled onto her back and looked up at me. "Does sex always hurt, Wendy? Does it always feel as if you are being ripped apart?" We both realised that I was getting aroused as my little dick began to get hard(ish) and press against the back of my darling's neck. "Oh, Wendy!" she almost squealed in joy. "Can you...? She rolled of my lap and knelt on the floor in front of me. Her hands worked quickly to undo my buttons and zip. One hand slipped into the fly and explored what was left of my 'manhood' which suddenly became harder. Danielle giggled and grabbed me. "Oooh!" she squealed and I giggled too. I'd never had much time for the damned thing: it was useful for pissing out of - a real convenience, that. But for anything else? Forget it! I hiked up my hips and she helped me wriggle of my jeans. Skinny jeans are not the most practical garment for a pre-op tg... believe me. Next she examined the little tent in my panties, first with her delicate and gentle fingers and then with her tongue and lips. Of, wow, I thought that I was going to explode. Dani, Dani, Dani. Where did you learn how to do that? She eased my wet panties down: yes I had pissed myself just a little, but she didn't seem to mind: then slowly, ever so slowly, her head descended and those beautiful ruby-red lips sucked my four inches gently in while her tongue licked against the sensitive underside. I felt as if I was going to explode but knew that I couldn't: I'd been snipped, remember? I didn't mind: I'd lost nothing that I had wanted to keep. Danielle worked hard: her mouth seemed to have a will of its own as it gave me the only blow-job that I had received while one of her delicate little hands worked its way under me and I felt a finger begin to massage and stroke my only hole, I wriggled as she worked it into me. Oh I came and came and came: I screamed, I shouted I twitched and I jerked as Dani did the near impossible. There was no real load to shoot, although my prostate did its best to make up for my lack in this department. As I said, I'm not bemoaning their loss for this meant that there was nothing to stop me from experiencing multiple orgasms. Needless to say that woman left me drained. She had not only got me hard enough to fellate, but she had managed to keep me hard for some time while the most that I can manage on my own was a couple of minutes of feeling spongy. "Oh my darling, let me do something for you," I pleaded. Next thing I knew was she was down on all fours with her panties around her knees and her skirt up and over her back This gave me a fantastic view of her beautiful pink, brand new pussy which seemed to smile back at me alluringly... To me it looked just like a natural one: not that I've seen a great many in their well padded and yielding flesh. Her new pussy was sopping wet, however: I don't know how that was possible: but in her case it was, believe me! I didn't hesitate: I just slipped my tiny tool in: Please, Allah, help me stay hard. I prayed to myself as I pushed forward as far as I could. Okay, my thrusts were short ones: but like they say, it isn't what you've got. Its what you do with it. I pulled back gently and then slammed forward as hard as I dared and was rewarded by a little yelp of pleasure. I managed to get up a nice little rhythm which Danielle helped me to maintain by rocking her magnificent hips backwards and forwards. I couldn't maintain my 'erection' for long: but I think that it was long enough because my darling came after about a minute. I pulled out, wilted and felt the twin reactions of high satisfaction and low guilt. What had I done to Milly...? What had we done to Milly...? "Oh fuck! I've done it now." Was all that I could say as the object of my desire hiked up her panties and scampered off to see to Melanie, who I realised had been crying for some time. 12. Guilt - Milly. Oh God, what have I done? I've driven her away, that's what. I should have been more thoughtful, more sympathetic: now I think I've lost her. What can I do? Dani has told me everything. She was tearful and full of remorse and it's all my fault that she's had sex with Wendy. I took her for granted, I used her, I hurt her and she turned to someone else for comfort. Its all my fault. I should have had sex with her when she asked, but no! I was afraid that I would hurt her again so I pretended to be too tired because I was pregnant. Then after our little girl was born, I never let her get close enough. I tried to make things right, I tried seduction, I tried turning on all of my romantic charm: I even bought her all of the Victoria's Secret Lingerie that she'd asked for but she never wore it for me. Oh she never walked out on our baby... She just began to sleep in the spare room at the back of the house so that she could attend to Melanie during the night without disturbing me. She was still very loving, very civil, very understanding: but at a distance and that distance became greater and greater until she left me one weekend just after Melanie's third birthday. Hell! She was free to go - I didn't own her did I? Well, did I? I created her: I turned a repulsive little loser of a man into the vivacious woman of my dreams. But now she's gone and I've had to hire a nanny to bring up our daughter... Come home, my darling. Please come home. 13. Guilt - Danielle. Oh God, what have I done? I've walked out on my husband and my baby - that's what I've done. Shit! Shit! Shit! What happened? I don't really know, except that Milly was my rock, she was my main reason for living, the universe revolved around her and crap like that. I was her woman: I could take anything: she fucked the crap out of me that Christmas but so what? I didn't really mind: I thought about it... If that was what she wanted to do then I'd get used to it. Her pregnancy frightened her: she never admitted it, even to herself, but she was frightened. I tried to comfort her but she withdrew into herself. At that time, I had things of my own to worry about: the nice surgeon was about to turn me into the woman that I dreamed about becoming; the woman that Milly had found hiding inside of me. I became her just before my darling became a mother. Either of those things on their own would have been okay: we could have overcome one. But both together were too much and instead of bringing us together, they forced us apart. Then there was Milly's need to get back to work almost immediately... Did I revolt her so much that she had to run back to her account ledgers so quickly? Does she see me as some kind of horrible freak that is neither man nor woman nor human? Oh, I breast-fed little Melanie: how many biological fathers can say that? I loved it, I loved the mother-baby intimacy that it provided. Just sitting there and feeling her nuzzle and suckle at my breast was a fantastic experience. I wondered at the time if we were shutting Milly out: she was the genetic woman; the real mother after all. She started working late and coming home completely shattered. I tried to get to the root of the anguish but all she would tell me that there was a take-over bid in progress and she had to make sure that the finances were in order. I moved into the spare room to make sure that I didn't disturb her when I got up in the night to attend to my baby's needs. It was about now that I found out just how much Wendy fancied me. More than fancied... Needed me. I was flattered. I'd had no real attention from Milly for what seemed like forever so when Wendy, tall slender Wendy, turned up that Saturday: one thing led to another and I found out exactly what a shemale could do for me AND what exactly I could do to her. Oh I regretted it afterwards: I'd betrayed Milly; I'd broken my marriage vows so I confessed first opportunity. Her response surprised me: she seemed to accept it as inevitable and even seemed relieved. Oddly enough, this made me feel even more guilty. I didn't run out on her... I stuck around in that loveless marriage for another three years, then when Melanie was old enough not to need twenty-four hour care I moved in with Wendy. I'm sorry, Milly, I'm so sorry. I really am: but its all for the best. Wendy and I love each other ? more than that, we are in love. Sorry Milly, I still love you and our baby, but... 14. Guilt ? Wendy. Oh God, what have I done? I've cuckolded Milly ? that's what I've done. I've had sex with her wife. May Allah forgive me! What happened? I'd fancied Danielle ever since I'd met her in the club. Then just seeing her in hospital, lying there all swaddled up and in pain made me want to gather her up in my arms and protect her. Afterwards, I visited regularly and was able to watch in amazement as the dressings came off and that new stunning body was revealed. She was a beautiful 5'4" brunette with tits to die for, a narrow waist and hips that swayed as she walked. "Poetry in motion." Corny? Sure. But accurate? Oh, yes. She was my dream girl: she'd been born male. So what? I had and I knew just how much of a relief it was to be transformed into a woman. Then after the baby was born, I learned how lonely she was and how distant Milly had become. Dani took to confiding in me and sympathetically, I listened. Then she told me about her introduction to anal sex I couldn't believe my ears that Milly, gentle, sympathetic, caring Milly could treat her that way was beyond me. The rest, I think you know. We live together now ? Dani's divorce is absolute and we are planning on getting married. Milly is and always will be, our friend. I do hope that she will find it in herself to forgive me for what I have done. But it is strange looking back... Just how many women have been cuckolded by another woman? 15. The End ? Milly. Well that's it. I hope you enjoyed the story of my first marriage, the one that failed. It's been told more or less how it happened except most of the boring bits have been missed out. Oddly enough, everyone lived happily ever after so I guess that I had better give you the details otherwise you'll be left wondering about what happened, after all ten years have gone by and we've all moved on. Danielle and Wendy: They did get married and had a beautiful double white wedding with identical white wedding dresses and yes they both looked radiant. They live near the club and Wendy still works there. She has had the big operation and is now a stunningly beautiful woman. Dani still works at the same Biotech firm as me and we are the best of friends: I was a witness at their wedding so there are no hard feelings on anyone's part. Just a vague sense of wondering about what might have been... The girls have a daughter, they adopted her and she is a year younger than Melanie who she plays with most days. Its odd, but it acts as a reminder: you see, Melanie still calls Danielle, mummy. Milly: Yes, me. I got married again ? I followed the same procedure as last time almost to the letter. I have a really beautiful and vivacious wife and another daughter. I learned from my mistakes and this time around the marriage will last! Oh yes: it was another double-white wedding and Dani ? to hell with tradition ? Dani was my best 'man' and Wendy gave the brides away, while the little girls were our bridesmaids. I think that the word 'surreal' suits it better than 'traditional'. Believe me, we got into the papers and onto the television with that one, but so what? It was a beautiful service. Jessica, my new wife, is Chinese; he thought that she was going to gain a wife and not become one. She adjusted well and transitioned easily and is a fantastic mother to our daughters ? I love her to bits. Incidently, I run a special rescue service for those unfortunate to be born as males but that's another story. Melanie and her Granny: Little Mel is ten now, and is growing into a beautiful young lady. Oh she still needs further surgery but everything will be fine, I'm sure it will. Her grandmother, my former mother-in- law, dotes over her and buys her expensive presents at the slightest excuse. She's moved to Birmingham when she retired and provides the usual Grandmotherly child minding service at the drop of a hat. She is the same with Dani and Wendy and is 'Granny' to their little girl too. We all love her dearly. The Fish on a Bicycle: Yes, the club is still there and I am sure that it will provide stories and entertainment for a long time to come. THE END (?) Authors Note. Thank you for reading my story which I hope you have enjoyed. If you have any constructive comments please post them on the forum or write a review. Alternately, my email address is: [email protected] and I am always more than happy to hear from readers. Incidentally if you have any ideas for how Milly and Danielle's story could continue, please let me know. My Mind Control, Non-Trans stories can be found on the Erotic Mind Control Story Archive at: https://mcstories.com/Authors/Writer345.html 28