Patricia and I had been dating or over a year now, we shared interest in a lot of things, but there was enough things that differentiated us to keep the relationship fresh and exciting. We both loved music, the oldies from the fifties and the sixties our preferences to listen to. We also enjoyed running as a way to unwind, a way to keep trim and toned. We tied these two together with our IPods blaring as we run a country trail behind our house.
After three months of sharing our lives we decided to invest in a residence. It wasn’t an invitation to unlimited sex although we did enjoy the foreplay involved more than the actual act. We did the deed from time to time, but in reality spent many hours mostly kissing, hugging, and cuddling. Of course, certain pieces of our anatomy did receive more than their share of tongue lashing, but what do you expect of two young lovers.
Our present abode came about after an internet search for a residence a few miles out of town with an acre or two for some solitude from nosy neighbors. It turned out to be a bank foreclosure, one that they didn’t think they could get rid of, so the price is way below appraisal. Since both of us come from financially secure families we took the deal. Pat had a ball decorating the new residence and I had contractors make the few changes we wanted done and convert the green grass landscape to a low maintenance natural ecosystem. That is a fancy way to say that there was no more grass to mow and the shrubs and trees were handling themselves, maybe a yearly trim to keep their shape appropriate.
With regards to employment we were both quite lucky. Pat inherited her mother’s business when she retired and I had been able to turn my college part time job into a full-fledged internet company. We did most of our work from home using our high-speed internet connection for access to our businesses.
Pat’s business was selling one of a kind dresses and women’s lingerie over the internet. Her mother had found a considerable number of women who designed and sold clothes, but had no way to market them. She had been working on her site for years and had a large number of followers who at the time just wanted her advice on where to find unique fashions. As she started handling some of these designs her site became quite popular. Their designs and her marketing matched perfectly. Pat’s mother collected the money and the designer shipped the item from their home.
When the funds would come in on a sold item she forwarded the money directly to the designer, minus her fee for selling it. The ladies were ecstatic over the deal, and worked feverishly to come up with new items. It had been decided early on that each design is to be a one of a kind fashion, thus ensuring a better selling price. If two people liked the same design, minor changes were made to keep the customer happy, but also to ensure that she would not find the same thing anywhere else.
My business was a little more basic. For several years now, blogs were all the rage, but as fast as new ones appeared an equal number ceased to exist because no one found them. My job is to make my customer’s blog stand out and be noticed. During the five years that I had been doing this work, I have lost only three customers, all for reasons not associated to their blogs. I didn’t charge an arm and a leg for my services, just wanting a steady income for myself. Now with a little over two hundred customers I had accomplished that and more.
The new house had okay internet service, but for our needs we needed better. I paid to have a line brought to our house that would assure us the best of connections. It was a little expensive, but in the end well worth it. We both had the newest technologies in our computers, courtesy of an old college friend who builds and sells computers.
Since we were both home the majority of the time we shared the household chores equally. I am a nut for schedules so I devised a rotating schedule for all our chores and the computers would advise each morning what our job was for the day. Anything major, we hired a cleaning service to handle the job.
A little bit about us, Patricia is a quite attractive female five foot nine inches tall and about a hundred twenty pounds in weight. I say about, for unless you can catch her on a scale that information is never divulged to anyone. She is very outgoing, always the first one to strike up a conversation even if there is nothing in common with the parties. Her Mother and Father have retired to Florida, her only contact with them is her weekly phone calls from her Mom. Pat is a driven person, attacking any project with such enthusiasm that a successful completion is guaranteed before she even starts.
I am of similar height, but weighed twenty pounds more than she did. I never got to participate much in sports because of being susceptible to any type of illness affecting the lungs or bronchial tubes. I had the condition since childhood when a bad case of the flu almost killed me. It damaged my lungs and now if I don’t closely watch my exposure I get instantly sick.
Among other things that has pretty much limited any access to the outside world. In other words I am destined to live my life inside a house. The one exception is my once a day run, with a specialized breathing mask to make sure that I don’t pick up any contaminants. Since that is my only exercise I am reluctant to stop it too. In our house I use many air purifiers to keep the air safe for me to breathe.
It affected my growth somewhat, I never developed broad shoulders, my arms are thin, and my legs are thinner than that. My face remained soft and without the normal angular features of a male. My voice is in the neutral range, but lacks volume, the best I can do is a loud whisper.
I was given the name of Robert at birth, but Rob became the nickname I became accustomed to until I met Patricia. She liked Robbie over Rob and uses it exclusively. Then one other variation popped up one day when she was pissed at me for something I hadn’t done. That variation is Roberta, at the time I was miffed at her calling me that, but later when calmer tempers prevailed she apologized, it was a name of a college lover that she had experimented with for a while. I apparently acted just like her and thus the use of it in the heat of the argument.
Several days later I tried to approach her on the lesbian tryst, but she told me it was just an experiment and it failed miserably. I did have enough sense to drop the subject since I could see that it bothered her immensely.
Recently in our fascination to explore each other more thoroughly we have taken on the subject of our fantasies. Early on in the discussion we decided to indulge in our partner’s fantasy at least once, then depending on what our thoughts are maybe again. Patricia was eager at the first, but then seemed to withdraw a little, maybe she thought one of her fantasies might weird me out. I admit that the first one that I had enough guts to tell her about was a little mild, maybe almost run of the mill, but I suspected she did the same thing when she told me one of hers.
For the record I wanted her to dress as a cheerleader and treat me like the quarterback of the team, while her fantasy was to have me lick her to an orgasm while playing with her titties. Up to now we had never indulged in me pleasing her with my tongue. Although I savored her titties very much and would often spend hours licking, nibbling and sucking the hard little nubs with my tongue. Typical fodder for this type of sharing, but I am sure a long ways off from our favorite fantasies.
We exchanged fantasies for several weeks, never revealing the larger more important fantasies. We did have fun, although some of these indulgences were outright silly and childish. Finally, I told Patricia enough with the games. We needed to be truthful and cover the fantasies that really meant something to us. Maybe the best way to do that is to spend a week setting up for it, with all preparation done beforehand and then the whole weekend living the fantasy. Since she is the female of the pair she should get to go first, I will patiently await my turn.
I trusted her explicitly that anything that I might need to do to prepare for the fantasy I would be more than willing to do. My love for her is real and knows no limits in its execution. I got the biggest hug and kisses from her, and we spent the evening sharing our love for each other in many ways. I did get to bring her to orgasm several times with my tongue and nipple play.
It was decided that she would take three weeks to plan the week, she apparently had an involved and complicated fantasy, then just tell me where I had to be to get prepared for her long wonderful weekend. That way we could each experience a favorite fantasy every other month. She did tell me in the weeks leading up to her special week that I might regret my involvement before all is said and done. My only reply is never. There were a lot of hushed phone calls made, whatever she had planned for me is major, the time and planning quite detailed.
She had asked me to make myself available for the whole week since a lot of her fantasy required me to be changed somewhat to conform to her ideal. I told her that I would set the whole week aside for her. I tried to guess what it might be, but nothing came to the forefront. She continued her preparations as she shopped for three days straight. Her selections were hustled into the house and hid away, no chance on my part to gleam what my involvement might be.
She seemed to be extra amorous the week preceding the fantasy. I remember several nights that did not conclude until the early morning hours. Believe me I am not complaining, the memories of those nights will be with me for months. I wondered with the prelude being so erotic, how the actual fantasy will stack up.
The night before the countdown to the big fantasy, she laid in bed with me cuddling me and telling me over and over how much she loved me. I tried to reassure her that I will comply with her wishes, she needn’t worry about that, all she needed to concern herself with is enjoying her fantasy. For some reason sleep came early that night, a few minutes after ten and I was out like a light. Of course, I wasn’t aware of my early bed time until the next morning, when Patricia told me of my actions.
Breakfast was fruit and orange juice, something I never sampled before, my preference usually sausage and eggs. I made sure that I attempted to yield to all her wishes, as soon as I am aware of them. I knew that this fantasy meant a lot to her, the amount of preparation she put into it a dead giveaway.
She drove me to my appointment, the fact that it is an upscale beauty salon a real surprise for me. She parked in their lot and turned to face me. She told me everything has been arranged, all I have to do is just go along with it. Everything she has picked out for me is temporary, easily reversible and means a lot to her.
She sincerely hopes that I can see my way to submit to her wishes, but if I can’t she will understand. I tried to stop her speech, but she shushed me. “When they get through you will leave the salon as a woman, a quite attractive woman. It will take the majority of the day, and I am sure that several of the treatments will be hard for you to accept. Please just this once try to allow me to experience one of my fondest fantasies.”
She clicked the locks on the cars door and pushed me out, telling me to ask for Francine or Samantha and they will explain what is in store for me. “If it is too much I will just be down the road with a designer and I will come and take you home. When they explain you will see what I have in store for you, a lot for any male to agree too. If you feel that you can’t do it I will understand, my love for you is so great and I want to be with you forever. Now go.”
I staggered to the door of the salon, still trying to figure out what she has just told me. The receptionist asked three times what my name is and if I had an appointment. Finally, the fog cleared enough for me to ask for Francine or Samantha. The receptionist smiled and told me that I was expected, go down the side wall and enter the third door on the right. I headed that way, but had to stop when I came to the first door to get my bearings. I am normally not that scatter brained, but what Patricia said in the car really shook me up. A lady came out of the second door down and introduced herself as Samantha.
“I can tell what Patricia has told you has shaken you up. We both advised her to tell you ahead of time, but she is scared to death that you will not participate in her fantasy. Come in and meet Francine and we will fill in a few of the holes and answer your questions.” She dragged me to the room she had come out of and introduced me to Francine. Both ladies were splendid examples of the female sex. Both tall, possessed long legs and a figure to make most women jealous.
Francine started things off telling me where they had met Patricia. She was a fellow student at college with them and they shared a house their junior and senior year. Patricia has always been a little shy especially with regards to sex, during her senior year she met a female student that was quite interested in her. They had several dates and once Patricia’s guard went down they became a couple. It turned out to be quite serious, with both of them talking about living together or even marriage if they could figure out a way to accomplish the task.
Three months later Patricia’s friend and lover died in a car crash after visiting her parents in Florida. She was so devastated at the loss of her lover, we almost lost her. Severe depression set in, she hardly ate, and she ended up dropping out of school. We managed to get her to stay in the house so we could keep an eye on her, but it was touch and go for several months.
Finally, we had a no nonsense talk with her one weekend and threatened to have her committed if she didn’t straighten out. We had gotten letters from her Mom and Dad giving us guardianship of their daughter. It was two years later that Pat figured that the letters meant nothing since she was already eighteen and an adult as far as the state is concerned. The bluff worked and four months later she was back in mainstream society somewhat.
When she first met you we were told that you reminded her of her Roberta, somewhat in looks but mainly in how you acted. We have made sure she sees you as a different person, not a substitute for her Becca. You have no idea how much this fantasy means to her, a way for her to remember a happier time of her life with a soul mate that she adores even more. She is aware that she is asking for a lot from you, more than any regular male would concede to.
We have talked to her about this in several lengthy discussions making sure she sees this in the appropriate way. We feel confident that she is aware of what she is asking and that the reasons for asking are genuine and real.
Now let me cover what she has asked for you to do. I interrupted at this point, asking of a minute to explain what I wanted. They both exchanged looks, then waited for me to speak. I told them that I love her with all my heart, always have and always will.
“Whatever that can be done to me to make her happy and possible remember some happier times in the process I want done to me. No explanations are necessary, I don’t care how long it will affect my looks, or if it will eventually make me a female, as long as she is happy, that is the route I want.”
“Now shouldn’t we get started, it seems to me that we have a lot to do to make me a gorgeous female and not a lot of time to get it done.” Francine smiled and nodded to Samantha then she grabbed my hand and dragged me to an adjoining room to get started. I am told to strip all of my clothes off and put them in the garbage. I did so willingly, thinking of what Patricia might say tonight as she sees the new feminine me. After getting undressed I looked to the counter where Samantha was getting her things ready and smiled. At the end of the counter was an air purifier just like what I use at home. No wonder I can breathe so easily.
Samantha did check one more time to make sure I understood that some of these procedures will be with me for several months, I told her the only restriction I have at the moment is that she not cut off my penis, maybe later, but not at this moment. There is giggling present for several minutes before Samantha made quick work of my body hair as she waxed me. A new and exciting adventure, not. The groin is the hardest part to take, the hairs there not wanting to leave their happy homes. If it wasn’t for the rag that Samantha gave me to bite down on, I am sure they could have heard me in the next state.
Since Samantha is having so much fun several more ladies came to join in on the fun. One started on my toenails, apparently from the polish bottle I am to have bright red nails. The taller of the ladies laid a box on my chest and removed two gorgeous tits from the box. I asked Sam how long they could stay on without coming loose. She said about a week or two depending on baths and showers. I had a couple of thoughts enter my mind as I was being waxed, maybe I could extend this fantasy for several weeks and we could go to our mountain cabin.
I asked if there is something a little more permanent that would last longer than a couple of weeks. She said there is but four to six months is the minimum time required before they could be removed, and it would require minor surgery to do so. I asked if I could think about it for a moment, maybe they could do something else for a few minutes. I really wanted this to be special for Patricia, now knowing a little history, I could see how much this would mean to her. I lay there as Samantha worked on my groin, moving my member around to position it where she wanted.
I made up my mind, whether right or wrong I wanted the longer lasting breasts, I figure that would be a key element in my transformation anyway. I told Samantha, she asked me to be sure, I told her I am positive. The other technician made some marks on my chest then swung a machine over the table. It had two cups hanging from tubes that connected to a pump type of arrangement. She lowered the cups, then placed them on my chest sealing around the cups where they contacted with my skin. A fatty looking substance is injected into each cup and then pump is turned on and my skin is slowly pulled into the cups.
When the cups were about a fifth full the pump switched to pulsating, sucking the skin in, then suction off, then sucking it again further into the cup. Meanwhile Samantha had switched boxes, grabbing another one off the shelf. She rearranged my genitals again, then glued the object over my secured penis. The fit is tight, and she adjusts the last part as her fingers are inside my new vagina. I can feel her touch me and as she moves her finger over the tip of my penis I almost came.
I had to work to control my breathing that last touch really spread through my body like a wildfire. The pump continued its work as my body slowly resumed normal levels of operation. My hands were next, soaked in some bluish water, then the cuticles removed. I wasn’t even aware I had cuticles until now. Polish was going on my toenails now, a clear coat then several layers of a deep red polish. The lady working on my hands was picking out extensions for each nail, I presume I will be a high fashion, high maintenance type of female now.
The extensions were glued on, sticking out past my fingertips by three quarters of an inch. I might have to buy that voice to text program now that I had been considering, typing with my new extensions might be a no go. A small price to pay for Patricia’s happiness. Then I started thinking of how everything will change for me. I was not against the change, but at some point in time I will have to embrace those changes. I could see the need for a new wardrobe, I doubt if many of my clothes will fit anymore even if I did want to wear them.
I had always envied her clothes, so many different types and materials to choose from, whereas a male is pants and a shirt when not in a suit. Then I realized it will also affect how we are perceived as a couple. No longer male/female a lesbian couple in the future. We do have quite a few friends, Patricia much more than me. Most of my work is done over the internet, so personal contact is severally limited in my case. When I consider her happiness over a friendship, there is no question which I would choose.
Samantha had finished hiding my last vestige of manhood and approached with a gun in her hand. She made some marks on my ears and soon I was sporting earrings in each ear, a matched pair for each ear. One must be a dangle, since I could feel it tickling my neck. Patricia had a pair like that, a favorite toy of mine to play with ever time she wore them. I imagine I have just supplied a comparable toy for her to play with. I was moved from the table to a salon chair, pumps, hoses and cups intact.
The chair was leaned back, my hair shampooed and conditioned. Chair back up to an upright position and she started cutting mu hair. I had worn it longer than most males, I guess a remnant of my limited Hippie days. One she finished the cut my hair was covered in a paste, roots first, then up to the tips. I imagine Becca was other than a brunette in hair color. A plastic bag to help further along the processing of my new color and she turned her attention to my eyebrows. In short order I had none, her skill at ripping them out and her smile as she did so told me she enjoyed this part of the transformation more than others.
I was asked about makeup, they had a new makeup that was semi-permanent lasting about six weeks. Since I was not trained in applying any makeup she though that might save me quite a bit of time and aggravation. I was all for it, she had already told me that I would need to set my hair in curlers at least every other night for the style Becca used to wear. My solution for that problem was three times a week appointments to have my hair done. I had asked about a permanent but this type of style wouldn’t utilize one very well.
The cups were half full now and I began to see a problem, they were going to be huge on my smaller body, I am sure they will stand out in anything I wear. I already have mastered a death stare to use on the males that stare at my wife’s assets, now I may have just as many staring at my assets. Somehow a death stare from a female might not have the same impact.
She worked on my makeup for a while as my hair was processing. Then when it was done she leaned back the chair and rinsed it out. Another conditioner and then curlers. Lots of them in a multitude of sizes and colors. A hair net after that and under a dryer for a while.
While my hair was drying she brought two funny looking pieces of fiberglass shaped to fit the back of my calves, they had straps along the piece, three to be exact. She attached them to my lower legs angling my foot down like I was standing on my toes. The straps were tightened holding my foot that way. The other leg was done to match then she injected a syringe of liquid right into the calf muscle. I was looking at her strangely, it didn’t hurt but why was she doing it. Then I felt the muscle start to tighten in the calf. Another look of why was expressed, I was trying to figure what to ask in the verbal way, but she beat me to it. Becca always wore very high heels, now you will to. The lowest heel you will be able to wear is four inches, welcome to womanhood.
I knew I was not looking forward to this part, I sure hope this will make Patricia extremely happy. With the hair finally dry she resumed her makeup application, taking her time to apply the cosmetics to my face. Once applied and twenty minutes later they will be with me for quite some time. She was standing between me and the mirror, so I could only get glimpses of my new look. What I did see was amazing, Robert was now a thing of the past, no way will he be returning to this body.
The timer on the breast machine went off and it quit sucking from my chest. The damage was already done, the cups were full to the top, not a sliver of unfilled space left in the forms. The hoses were detached, I was told the cups/forms would dissolve over the next few days leaving nothing but soft fleshy breast tissue. I received another syringe of something in each nipple right through the hole where the hoses were only minutes ago. If left untouched for six months the breast tissue would become quite normal just like a real female. I gulped to try and clear my throat, it didn’t help. I was now nervous, what if Patricia doesn’t approve of the look, I was facing a very interesting future if she didn’t.
My hair was taken out of the curlers after it was dry, soft spongy tendrils of ash blonde hair were left in their place. She blushed them into the style she had set, then used a liberal coat of hairspray to encourage them to stay put. It capped off the look, Roberta is now the persona at least in looks now. What surprised me the most was how good I looked. As a guy I was average in the looks department, definitely not someone to drool over. However, as a female that was another matter. Patricia was still the looker, but with the right clothes and an up do I just might give her some serious competition.
I do wonder how that will set with her, it might be a fantasy to revisit her female friend and their relationship, but to have that friend to look prettier than her might be a bit much for her. I was getting a little nervous, she would be here soon to pick me up, I sure hope what she sees it acceptable. For sure I will be this way for a while. Maybe me going to the extreme was not the best way to explore the fantasy.
Then I hear a squeal, a female tornado running to me. I am almost knocked down as she had launched herself at me while still five feet away from me. I am hugged and kissed and squeezed till I felt that I might just split open. Every few seconds she would pull back to get another look then attack again, of course, accompanied with another squeal.
I am still naked, not a piece of clothing gracing my body. Samantha approached me with some clothing. I think it was her intention to dress me, but Patricia had no intention of letting anyone put their hand on my body. She snatched the clothing from Samantha, and put it on me. I attempted to slide the panties up my own legs but my hand was batted away. This was her job and no one was intervening, absolutely no one.
Samantha returned with a dress, a simple shirtwaist in pink, of course, with tiny green and lavender flowers sprinkled over the material. Patricia gave me a quizzically look as I was helped into my bra, first at my breasts and then at me with a what have you done look on her face. I tried to avoid her stare, maybe I did go too far. The dress did help cover things up some once it was slid on to my body. The top two buttons were left undone exposing some cleavage, a smile on Patricia’s face the end result. During my dressing I was touched often with a kiss or hug thrown in for good measure. A pair of heels of the required height were furnished, it actually felt good for my foot to be in them. Prior to the heels I was standing on my toes, my foot not being able to stand flat on the floor anymore.
I was ushered out of the salon, Patricia having at least one hand on me the whole time. I insisted sitting in the back seat of her car, her constant focus on me not good for a driver of a vehicle. She giggled but agreed, bit I still caught her staring in the rear view mirror at me, a sigh erupting form time to time. Somehow we did make it home in one piece, but how that was accomplished is anybody’s guess. Before I could get my seat belt unfastened she was at my door, had it open and swatted my hands, taking over the job of undoing my seat belt. I giggled a little, I have never seen her like this.
As I was being led into the house, my mind had already come to the conclusion that Vanna is here to stay. Vanna is the name we had started calling my female persona. Although she was trying to recreate Rebecca, I didn’t want anything to do with that name. I will try and portray Rebecca for her both in actions and looks, but I am Vanna her female lover and soul mate. Well Vanna had to plead to be able to use the bathroom, Patricia had me already on the bed and partially undressed before I could get all of the words out of my mouth. I was allowed to use it, but with her standing outside the door tapping her foot. Another giggle from me, she is so giddy with excitement, her fantasy coming to life just as she had pictured it in her mind.
Needless to say I managed very little other than some moans and groans as she worked me over, no part of my body escaping her mouth and tongue. I lost count the number of times I orgasmed, not even realizing I could without junior in the lead. Oh, he was excited, the flow of juices coming from my new slit quite significant.
It was seven the next morning before she wound down, I was pooped to the nth degree, the feelings coming from every part of my body swamping my mind. I was in a daze, happy, satisfied, and glad that I had made her fantasy a success. She did ask me later about all the things that I had done over and in excess of what she wanted. I simply replied anything for my lover, now give me a kiss, I need some beauty sleep if you expect this to continue tonight. She did and I was held tightly in her arms for the rest of the day. A place I was happy to inhabit, nestled in her arms and a few inches from her face. Believe me it was a fateful fantasy, but one that I will treasure for the rest of my life. Just glad I could make her fantasy come true, by doing so making my life complete.
Story Complete For Now
© 2016 thru 2021 Fran Cesca Walker