Leprechaun Trickery Part 8

"You were right," he grunted. "The damn thing has always gotten me in trouble. Now it won't let me jerk off. Take me to this Dr. Trate! Let her cut the fucking thing off! Let her rip off my balls! Have her give me a complete sex change! I'll fuck the first man you want me to screw. All I ask is that you do it now, tonight, while my hatred for the damned thing is still hot. Do it now, damn it! Do it now!"

Leprechaun Trickery

Part 8


"You can remove all your clothes," Stephanie ordered as she completed the first set of readings. "You don't need to be self-conscious. I've seen naked males before."

"So I understand," Tony sighed as he drank in the sight of the lovely girl. Despite his fear and anxiety, he felt his male libido reacting to her overt girlishness. It seemed impossible that she had ever been male. "Your mother told me that you were her son," he finally blurted out when he could no longer contain his curiosity.

"That's right," Stephanie replied with an impish giggle. "But there's no male left in me now. I can't believe I used to enjoy being an icky boy. The very idea of being a boy seems totally repulsive to me now."

"Was it difficult, you know, changing," Tony asked softly.

"It was terrible," Stephanie explained honestly. "But that was because I was being a stupid stubborn guy. Once I realized life as a girl is better and stopped fighting what had happened, it was a breeze. Guys always have to struggle and constantly prove their manhood. They can't let their guard down for a minute without someone calling them a sissy. That's a horrible way to live. As a girl I can do anything I like. I can laugh and giggle or cry and pout without any fear of condemnation. Let a guy try that and see what happens. Life as a girl is a lot better than life as a boy. Take my word for it, you'll like it if you don't fight it."

"I still find it hard to believe that you were a boy," Tony insisted. "Your mother said you were quite a handful."

"That's putting it mildly," Stephanie sighed. "I can't believe that I actually thought I enjoyed being a bratty boy."

"So... ah... do you... ah...," Tony stammered looking for the right words.

"Yes, I date boys," Stephanie laughed as she began to take the final measurements. "I'm not embarrassed to discuss my sex life with those who like you have a real concern with their future sex lives. I'm still a virgin but I'm not inexperienced either. I try not to go out with jocks though because they only want one thing from a girl, not that I couldn't give it to them."

Despite his embarrassment of being naked before this pretty faux-girl and the all too real fear of a possible sex-change for himself and his son, Tony found himself becoming erect as Stephanie spoke and took the final measurements. His beet red face revealed his frustration over his total lack of control over his rampant member.

"In fact, I'm quite talented in controlling sexually aroused guys," Stephanie cooed softly as she wrapped her fingers about his turgid member. "I've made several guys shoot a load in their pants when they became too aggressive. Nothing cools a guy’s ardor faster than a load of cum in his jockey shorts. That's just one of the things a girl has to learn if she doesn't want to become a slut."

Tony discovered that he was powerless to resist Stephanie's hypnotic-like words as she deftly handled his insistent manhood. His growing terror at this impotence to prevent his imminent feminization had left him unable to think clearly. The situation had so weakened his will that he could not even think of stopping the faux-girl as she brought him ever loser to a climax. Much to his consternation his terror just seemed to increase his very much unwanted arousal. The harder he tried to will his manhood to deflate, the closer he came to going over the edge. It was only a few moments before he uncontrollably erupted.

Stephanie caught his warm seed in her free hand and proudly, tauntingly, held it up to Tony's panting crimson face once he was both physically and emotionally drained.

"Want a taste," Stephanie asked while smiling impishly as she dipped a finger into the steaming jism and slipped it between her pursed pouty lips.

Tony felt his balls shrivel at Stephanie's teasing and repulsively shook his head NO.

"You'll learn to do it sooner or later so why fight it," she added with a fatalistic shrug.

Despite his resolve to face his horrible unwanted fate as a man Tony broke into tears as he watched the smiling faux-girl sensuously devour his seed. What caused the tears was his growing fear that her prediction might just be correct.

"Are you sure you don't want a teensy taste," Stephanie asked in a lilting voice as she smacked her lips. "For most of the guys I get to do this to, this is their last load. If you don't get a taste of it now, your first taste could very well be that of another man."

Tony again shook his head no and continued to sob. Never, he vowed to himself, would he ever consume cum. If he had to become feminine, of which there seemed little doubt, he'd be chaste.

"Suit yourself," Stephanie giggled as she scooped up all of Tony's clothes. "I'll be back in a few minutes with your new wardrobe."

Tony sadly watched the door close as the perky girl left him alone and in the nude. There was little fight left in him. Everything that he held dear was in jeopardy. His business, his wife, his son, and his masculinity. Now that his manhood had been drained he felt wasted. With the subtle relaxation that comes after an orgasm, the testosterone driven animalistic portions of his being seemed to shut down. With the testosterone machismo temporarily off line, he could see that Olivia was right with the theory that most male behavior problems are caused by a testosterone laden body demanding satisfaction at nearly any cost. His damned pecker and balls were the source of all his problems. If he wasn't so damned horny, he wouldn't have gotten sexually involved with Linda. The extra money he paid her for her sexual favors was making the difference between profit and loss for his business. Now that the illicit affair was out in the open it was the reason for his impending gender bending. Even his lack of support for Lydia's method of raising Robert could be traced back to his damned testosterone. Guys often joked that they thought with their balls. Such jokes were merely devises for denying the unsavory truth that guys often do think with their balls. This startling revelation sobered Tony. While he certainly didn't want to become a female, perhaps some feminization wouldn't be such a bad thing. If it gave him conscious control of his testosterone driven libido, becoming a female impersonator was almost worth the cost. With a sigh he decided to tough out his dilemma and cooperate in his impending feminization... as long as he kept a functional penis. His testosterone producing balls, he angrily decided, were quite expendable.

After Stephanie had left him alone, Robert furiously stormed about the dressing room looking for another way out. When he failed to find another exit, he decided to tear off his sissy outfit and put what remained of his clothes back on. There was no way he'd ever allow himself to be seen in public dressed in the sissy outfit he was wearing. With blind fury he shredded the sissy clothes. Buttons popped, lace edging tore, and ribbons flew until he stood clad only in the panties. Breathing heavily from his exertion but with a smile of smug satisfaction he stormed manfully to the locker where Stephanie had placed his outer clothes. The surly smirk quickly disappeared when he discovered his clothes were securely locked up in the locker. This once more fueled his rage. He cursed, screamed, and pounded on the walls and doors to no avail. Everything was solidly built and sound proofed. The angry preteen boy raged about the room until he finally exhausted his testosterone and adrenalin fed fury. Clad only in the sissy panties, he dropped forlornly on the bench, looked forlornly at the shredded fabric remains of the sissy outfit, and waited for the doom he now knew would inevitably come when his mother saw what he'd done. Tears of helplessness and frustration filled his eyes. The only solace he found was the thought that once his father found out about the degrading outfit he'd been forced to put on, he'd be punished but excused for his violent reaction. But at least it'd be a manly punishment and his mother would be in big trouble. It was with these nervous thoughts the boy waited.

After leaving Tony with Stephanie, Lydia entered the dressing room where Bobbi anxiously waited while Olivia went to gather the beginnings of a girlish wardrobe for Bobbi. Lydia stopped and gasped as she looked at the ravaged outfit and her still very much belligerent panty-clad son.

"Mom, you should have seen this freaking sissy outfit they made me put on," he stood and yelled when he saw his mother enter the room. "There is no fucking way I'm ever going to wear a sissy outfit like that. They locked up my clothes and that bitchy girl even took my underwear and socks! Make them bring them back so I can change and get the hell out of here."

"Bobbi, I suggest you settle down and watch your language," Lydia controlled her anger and calmly informed the boy. "The only hell that will be gotten out is the boyish hell inside you. I thought your outfit was simply darling! It's really a shame that you ruined it."

"Darling! Calm down!" Robert yelled. "No fucking way! This shit has already gone too far. Do you know what Dad would’ve said if he had seen me dressed like that? You'll be the one in trouble then!"

"Bobbi, sweetheart," Lydia smiled sweetly. "I've already arranged for you to have other clothing to wear when we go home. I don't think you were listening when I told you that I thought the sissy outfit looked daring on you. Aren't you curious about how I know what you looked like wearing it?"

A sudden sinking feeling began to grow in the pit of Robert's stomach. His mother was much too calm and she had not been in the room to see him wearing the sissy outfit.

"I can see I've got you wondering," Lydia chuckled devilishly. "If I were you at this moment I'd be on my knees begging forgiveness. I think you should know that your father and I were in Ms Childress' office while Stephanie was dressing you in that pretty new outfit you so rudely destroyed. Now I just bet that you haven't noticed the video camera in that corner, have you?"

Robert fearfully followed the direction of his mother's pointing finger to see a video camera with a tiny red light blinking. It was clearly evident he didn't understand what that had to do with anything. "So what," he asked obviously confused but with great trepidation.

"Bobbi, my precious darling Bobbi," Lydia purred. "Olivia, your father, and I watched your performance with Stephanie. Your every word and inflection has been preserved on a video tape... EVERY WORD!"

Suddenly Robert paled as he recalled bragging about how his father always sided with him, how he played his parents against each other, and even worse, all about his father's affair. If both his parents had seen and heard all he'd done and said, Robert knew that while he was in deep shit, his father was in deeper shit. Robert hoped the floor would open and swallow him.

"I really must thank you for revealing your father's affair with Linda," Lydia told the stunned boy. "I guess you can imagine that your father wasn't too happy. Of course, since you so obligingly recorded everything, I now have all the evidence I need to have your father sent off to jail for a very long time. Fortunately, your father was smart enough to know that I have him by the balls."

Robert sank back on the bench and stared at his mother in horror over what he'd done. His father would not be saving him this time. What would happen now?

"I bet you'd never guess that at this very moment your father is in the dressing room right next door being fitted for a new feminine wardrobe," Lydia continued. "With a bit of work I think he'll appear as an attractive woman. What you revealed has left me in total and absolute control of our family. Not only you, but your father as well will have to do exactly what I tell you to do. Now isn't that nice?"

Tears began to fill Robert's eyes as he thought of his father being fitted with women's clothes. If all his mother had said was true, and it obviously was true or his mother wouldn't know about his illicit taping of his father's affair, Robert knew he was in the deepest shit he'd ever imagined. There would most certainly be no help coming from his father.

"I see you understand," Lydia smiled at her crushed son. Then she sobered and continued in a hard, authoritarian voice. "You will do exactly as you are told. Your name is no longer Robert Joseph Waters. Tomorrow I will be contacting a lawyer to have it legally changed to Bobbi Jo Waters. Bobbi will be spelled B-O-B-B-I and JO will be spelled J-O. From this moment forward that is how you will sign all your papers. That is the only name to which you will respond. Is that clear?"

"But mom," Robert cried. "That's the way a girl would spell my name. If I sign my papers and stuff like that, all the guys will crucify me for being a sissy!"

"Of course it's the way a girl spells your name," Lydia replied. "I've decided and have already informed your father that both you and he will be under strict Petticoat Discipline until I am satisfied that every trace of your belligerent chauvinism has been erased from your personality. Since I'm sure you have no idea what Petticoat Discipline is, I'll tell you. Petticoat Discipline denies absolutely everything a male needs to make himself male. A male undergoing Petticoat Discipline has to dress and behave like a prissy girl at all times and places. Your father and you will be undergoing Petticoat Discipline until you both are comfortable wearing nothing but dresses or skirts. Your Petticoat Discipline will continue until you naturally think like a girl. Your Petticoat Discipline will continue until you forget what it feels like to wear pants, play sports, and be a boy. Your petticoat Discipline will continue until you can not behave in any manner other than that of a prissy girl. That is to be your future. The more you resist, the harder the ordeal will be and the longer it will take. Do you understand?"

"You... you've got to be kidding," Robert gasped. "You can't just take a guy and make him become a girl!"

"You, my darling sweet former son, are sadly mistaken," Lydia informed him. "You obviously think Stephanie is a pretty girl or you wouldn't have commented about her cute ass. I'm sure you'll be delighted to know that she was a boy until she was ten. Then her mother became tired of his bratty disregard for proper behavior and turned him into girl."

"No way," Robert declared with growing terror that what his mother was telling him was true. "Stephanie is all girl. There is no way she could ever have been a boy."

"Oh you're so wrong, pretty little Bobbi Jo," Olivia snickered as she entered the room carrying a dress, slip, tights, and black patent leather Mary Janes. "Stephanie was a nasty boy much like you when I put him in a dress much like this one. He never wore pants again. Your mother is about to do the same to you."

"No," Robert cried in fear at the imminent prospect of being permanently petticoated. "Please, mother, don't do this to me. I promise I'll be a good boy."

"It's too late for that now," Lydia stated. "You will do whatever I decide."

"Lydia, you should immediately remove Bobbi Jo from his school," Olivia advised as she turned her back on Bobbi. "Tomorrow morning, put him in this dress and take him to St. Patrick's Parochial School. Mother Superior Murphy is very cooperative about enrolling special girls in her excellent school. The only requirement is that you take Bobbi Jo to see Dr. Cassandra Trate. Dr. Trate will give him the necessary treatments to control his masculinity and enhance his femininity. By Sunday, Bobbi Jo will be a real girl. By Wednesday she will able to safely attend St. Patrick's Parochial School as a polite sedate young miss."

Robert shivered with terror as he listened to his proposed fate. Then he noticed that Olivia had left the door open. Even though he was dressed only in panties, it was far better that wearing the dress Olivia had brought in for him. Quickly he decided this could very will be his last chance to save his boyhood. The desperate boy bolted for the door.

Lydia was startled by Bobbi's lunge for the door and gasped. Olivia had intentionally left the door ajar hoping that the desperate boy would attempt to flee. Her experience told her that bolting would be the boy's reaction to her outline of his future. Even though her back had been turned to Bobbi, she had been keeping an eye on him in the mirror. His nervous glance at the door, his wide open eye as he realized it was open, and his rapid tensing all telegraphed his intentions.

Robert had taken only three steps when he tripped over Olivia's strategically extended leg. The unprepared boy awkwardly stumbled and flailed his arms wildly as he sprawled forward onto his face. Olivia stepped over his prone body to easily push the door which closed with an ominously loud CLICK.

Robert didn't even try to get up. Hopelessly he burst into tears and buried his face in his hands. Life as he had known it was at an end all because he had teased a couple of sissies outside a toy store.

Lydia was furious. "This is exactly the type of behavior I abhor and why I'm going to place you on strict Petticoat Discipline," Lydia seethed as she towered over the sobbing boy. "You shredded the nice outfit you had on because it was too sissyish. You claimed an outfit like that was only fit for sissies. Well, I'm about to grant your request that I get you other clothes. You'll never again have to worry about looking like a sissy. From now on, your main concern will be to look and behave like a prissy girl. Now get up so we can properly clothe you."

Robert couldn't move. Emotionally and physically he had been reduced to a dishrag. He was helplessly immobilized by his terror. Olivia had often seen that reaction when an arrogant boy realized his vaunted boyhood was about to end. With a warning wave to Lydia to ease up, Olivia reached over and tugged on Bobbi's limp arm.

"We're not going to hurt you, Bobbi Jo," Olivia stated softly in a caring voice as she puled him to an upright position. "Please be a good girl and sit up."

Robert shivered impotently as he numbly allowed himself to be leveraged into a sitting position. His ravaged mind swirled with conflicting thoughts and unanswerable questions. Once he was placed in the girl's clothes, how could he escape? Even if he escaped, where could he go? Because of his bragging, his father, the one person who could have saved him, was hog tied and impotent to stop what his mother planned. Then another chilling thought occurred to him. If Stephanie had once been a boy but now obviously looked totally feminine, would the same happen to him? Massive guilt over his bad behavior and disrespect filled him. This guilt demanded that he be punished in reparation for his evil deeds. At the same time anger over his emasculation engulfed him. The result was that his mind swirled in confusion and rendered him incapable of maintaining coherent thought or even completing a thought. Robert's ability to think as an individual, independent human being was thus snarled in a mental traffic jam. However, his mind was numbly able to respond to outside commands. Especially if those commands were made in a caring, sympathetic voice that offered a sense of security and well being.

"Bobbi Jo, let's move over to the bench," Olivia gently commanded the numbed lad as she tugged him to wobbly feet.

Lydia understood what was going on and took Bobbi's other hand and pulled gently. "Come on, princess, let Mommy help you to the bench," she cooed softly.

Robert allowed himself to be moved to the bench where the women promptly but gently stripped him of the baby blue panties. Quickly they slipped a pair of silky lace trimmed pink nylon panties and a matching camisole on his inert body. Together they tugged a pair of pink nylon lace tights over his legs and bottom. Olivia slid a pink nylon slip edged in delicate lace over his head and down his torso as Lydia knelt at his feet to slip the black patent leather Mary Jane shoes onto his feet. Olivia adjusted the straps on the slip while Lydia buckled the shoes firmly to his feet. When Olivia slipped a cotton pink and white gingham high waisted country girl style dress over his head, Lydia assisted by slipping his arms through the full cut long sleeves. Together they tugged Bobbi to his feet, then began to adjust the slip and dress until they hung properly. Olivia adjusted the lace edged round neck opening until it was properly situated. Lydia adjusted the elastic lace edged cuffs so they fit properly at the wrist. About an inch of the scalloped lace edged hem of the slip was visible beneath the the full loose skirt which ended two inches above Bobbi Jo's knees.

The women carefully sat Bobbi Jo back on the bench, making sure to smooth out his skirt as he sat down. Then his mother began to brush and style his brown hair. For once Lydia was happy the boy had gone against the authority of his parents by refusing to get his hair cut. The straight brown locks just reached his shoulders. Lydia brushed a section of hair foreword over his face then quickly trimmed bangs even with his eyebrows. The remaining hair was parted down the center and gathered together into twin ponytails that sprouted just above his ears and dangled down to the middle of his neck. The ponytails were secured in place by strips of pink and white gingham cloth tied into cute bows. While Lydia tended to Bobbi's hair Olivia busied herself filing the now girlish lad's fingernails and applying a bright glossy pink polish. Then she applied a matching gloss to his lips.

By the time they were done, all traces that Bobbi Jo had been an unruly twelve year old girl were eliminated. The women once more helped the girlish figure to her feet, then walked her to the mirrored wall.

"Bobbi Jo, please look in the mirror," Olivia ordered gently. "You'll see that there is not the slightest evidence that you were ever a boy named Robert Joseph. That boy has, for all intents and purposes, died. Only you, Bobbi Jo, a sweet, shy gentle young miss, remain. Look at your reflection, Bobbi Jo, look at yourself. You'll see the truth for yourself."

Lydia stepped back and drank in the sight of her girlish child. Her heart leapt for joy as she saw only a frightened uncertain girl. The mean, arrogant son she'd endured for the last few years had been erased and replaced by this lovely girl. Bobbi Jo was her daughter.

The zombie like boy heard Olivia's instructions and struggled to resist her damning words. There was no way, his stubborn machismo insisted, they could make him look like a dumb girl. Yet the fear that they had succeeded was all too real. The disjointed surreal memories of being clad in the dress and having his hair styled and nails painted swam together into a coherent living nightmare. Robert slowly came out of his mind-numbing fog to focus his eyes on the mirror.

What he saw totally crushed his resurgent chauvinism. The reflection, his reflection, was that of a timid but pretty young girl of about ten. A shiver of terror engulfed his shattered boyhood. They had turned him into a girl! He looked like a pretty girl! No trace of his boyishness remained. Robert Joseph Waters, the tough, arrogant, all-American boy had been eliminated. They had succeeded in transforming him into a shy girl named Bobbi Jo Waters.

"Bobbi Jo, you are the darling daughter I've always wanted," Lydia exclaimed as she hugged him to her. "You look like an adorable ten year old girl. In fact, I think that's what I'm going to do. When the lawyers change your name, I'll also have them remove two years from your age. You'll start school as a ten year old girl in the fourth grade. That way you'll have the opportunity to make up for the wasting the last two years because of your stubborn boyish refusal to do your homework and study. Yes, you'll do nicely as a ten year old girl."

Robert collapsed in tears upon hearing his mother's latest decision. There was no way he could fight her. It was plain to see she'd destroyed his boyhood. All his boyhood hopes, all his boyish dreams, all his manly wants and desires, all were now utterly destroyed and hopelessly unattainable. He no longer felt tough and self-reliant. The swagger, arrogance, and conceit of the macho boy had been eliminated. Robert no longer felt like the cocky boy he'd been outside the toy store. Dressed as a girl, and judging from his reflection, looking like a girl, he felt more like Bobbi Jo, the girl his mother wanted. Bobbi Jo could only cry and buried his face in his mother's comforting bosom.

Tony sat forlornly on the bench waiting for Stephanie to return with the beginnings of his new feminine wardrobe. The inescapable truth was that his manhood was costing him practically everything he held dear. If he failed to cooperate with his feminization and that of his son, it could still easily cost him everything. How many times had he vowed to end his affair with Linda only to have that resolve vanish at the insistence of his balls. Hopefully, the transition into pseudo womanhood would not be too horrible. His biggest worry was that Stephanie might be right about his someday devouring another man's sperm. That was a totally abhorrent prospect. The only way to avoid such a demeaning fate was to cooperate fully. With that settled in his tortured mind, he silently waited while mentally berating himself for his testosterone filled weakness.

Stephanie returned with her arms laden with soft feminine clothes which she placed upon the bench beside the morose Tony. From the top of the pile she handed the shivering naked man a white satin matching bra and panty set.

Tony looked at the sexy teenager. Knowing that she had once been a normal boy shook what little remained of his self-confidence. The fact that he still found Stephanie sexually arousing really disturbed his teetering masculinity. The fact that he, an adult man, had to take orders from the sex-changed teenager only rubbed salt into the open wounds of his chauvinism. Tony meekly accepted the proffered garments with trembling hands. His determination to go through his unwanted ordeal like a man was sorely tested when he laid his eyes upon she shimmering lingerie. A see-saw match in his mind over whether to resist or submit raged briefly but with the rationalization that wearing the feminine garments was better than being nude, he steeled his resolve. Swallowing back the bile he felt rising he gingerly stepped into the silken panties and slowly tugged them up his legs. Being a hot blooded man, Tony had always become aroused whenever he'd caressed a female's silky lingerie. Now that alluring sensuality was reversing, instead of merely feeling the delightful sensations with his fingers, he felt it everywhere the luscious silken fabric touched his flesh. Tiny electric jolts of excitement seemed to explode through his nervous system at even the most minute contact. By the time he'd fumbled the panties to his knees, he once more had an erection. As he snugged the panties into place about his waist, the crotch snugged about his rampant manhood and almost caused him to explode. As it was he almost swooned. Stephanie helped him onto the bench to keep him from falling.

"Take it easy," Stephanie advised Tony. "Take deep breaths. It does take quite a while until you grow accustomed to the erotic feeling of satin lingerie. It's one of the benefits of being able to wear such nice clothes. I can guarantee that once you stop fighting your transformation, you'll simply love wearing sexy lingerie. It just feels so yummy you'll never want to go back to cotton."

"A few moments ago I'd have said you were feeding me a line of bull," Tony replied as he struggled to regain his composure. "Now, I'm afraid you just might be right. No wonder women like to dress up so sexily and drive guys crazy. They don't need a man to turn them on, their damn clothes turn them on! Look, Stephanie, please don't take this the wrong way. I'm not trying to come on to you, but damn it, I need relief down their. Do you think you could... ah... you know... ah... do what you did to me earlier?"

"I wouldn't mind at all," Stephanie giggled. "I've seen this happen to every guy old enough to get an erection when they put on panties. The only problem is that we're being taped and the only way I'm allowed to relieve you is if you promise to lick all your spunk out of my hand and swallow it."

"Oh God," Tony moaned in frustration. "That isn't fair. If I don't get relief soon I'll cum in my panties. Please, can't you do me quickly and just wipe off the mess?" Tony was so delirious with lust that he didn't even notice he had said MY PANTIES.

"Nope," Stephanie replied mischievously as she reached out and began to stroke his erection through the panties. "I have my orders and you have yours. Yours are to obey me or have your manhood removed. Mine are that now that you asked me to relieve you, I am have no choice but to do it. The problem is this. I can not allow you to stop me from touching you down here. You can not remove your panties or otherwise remove your penis from your panties. Only I am allowed to do that. If you mess your pretty panties, they'll cut your pecker and balls right off. So your choice now is to do nothing and let me bring you off in your pretty panties so they'll cut off your male parts or you let me do you so I can catch it in my hand so you can swallow it all. I think you'd better decide soon."

Tony glanced up at the camera and saw the light was on recording everything that occurred. The harder he tried to will himself to resist Stephanie's caresses, the more difficult it became. There was no way he intended to eat his own cum, yet if he didn't, he'd lose the last bit of his manhood Lydia was allowing him to keep. Realizing it would only be a matter of seconds before he came he reached down and grabbed Stephanie's hand to keep her from bringing him off.

"Wait, wait," he gasped as he struggled to stop his imminent ejaculation. "I'll do it, I'll do it, it's just that if you don't give me a chance to catch my breath, I'll come in my panties."

Stephanie knew she could not overpower Tony but she didn't relax her effort to continue manipulating his manhood. "Tell me what you'll do," Stephanie demanded. "Tell me now or you'll lose this piece of manmeat."

"I'll eat my cum," Tony whispered desperately.

"Louder," Stephanie demanded. "Promise to do it."

"I'll eat my cum," Tony declared in a louder quavering voice. "I promise to eat my cum when you bring me off."

"Since you stopped me from bringing you off in your panties before you agreed to swallow your sperm, you need to make a further promise or you'll lose your precious manhood anyway," Stephanie announced realizing she had the defeated man in an inescapable position. "You must promise Lydia, in a clear loud voice while looking straight into the camera, that you will not only suck the first cock she selects for you, you will swallow every drop of that man's hot salty sperm and thank him afterward for allowing you to become a simpering cock sucker."

"Oh God," Tony moaned helplessly. "That's too much. I can't do it."

"Suit yourself," Stephanie announced with a sadistic smile as she stopped attempting to reach his manhood. She shook off his hand and walked away from him heading for the door. "You'll undergo a complete sex-change and instead of that man allowing you to suck him off, he'll fuck your cherry pussy."

"No," Tony exclaimed in horror. Every time he refused or even just hesitated to do something he was ordered to do, the consequences grew worse. "All right, all right," Tony sobbed as he dropped hopelessly to his knees. "You win. Please. Stephanie, jerk me off so I can eat my cum." Turning his wet tear streaked face to the camera he swallowed and began to speak. "Lydia, I promise to suck the cock of the first man you select. I promise to swallow every drop of his hot salty sperm and then thank him for letting me become a simpering cock sucker."

"Not too bad," Stephanie said as she stopped at the door. "But since you didn't cooperate right away, there's a bit more now. "Look at the camera and tell Lydia that you've been such a bad boy that you don't deserve to have anyone jerk you off. Apologize and promise her that you'll jerk yourself off at least twice a day while she watches. Promise that you'll catch your sperm and lick up every drop. Promise that if you are unable to jerk off or if you fail to consume every drop of your cum, that you'll agree to a complete sex-change. Promise that if you ask to have your sex changed you'll give your cherry pussy to the first man she selects for you. Promise again that you'll suck the cock of the first man she selects for you, that you'll swallow his hot salty cum, and then thank him for allowing you to become a simpering cock sucker. Then, since we all know that no REAL man would dare to eat sperm, you will ask Lydia to please change your name to Tonia so you can be the girl you are becoming."

Tony realized that his hesitation had once more upped the consequences. He couldn't afford to lose any more. Much to his chagrin, his erection was quite noticeable as it strained to break free from the silken confines of his panties. Crying steadily he looked at the camera. "Lydia I've been a very bad boy. I know that I don't deserve to have anyone jerk me off. I apologize for being so bad and promise you that I'll jerk myself off at least twice a day while you watch. I promise that I'll catch my sperm and lick up every drop. I promise that if I'm ever unable to jerk off or if I fail to consume every drop of my cum, that I'll agree to a complete sex-change. I promise that if I ask to have my sex changed I'll give my cherry pussy to the first man you select for me. I promise again that I'll suck the cock of the first man you select for me, that I'll swallow his hot salty cum, and then I'll thank him for allowing me to become a simpering cock sucker."

Tony bowed his head in total self disgust and defeat as he sobbed. “Lydia, everyone knows a real man would never eat sperm. Would you please change my name to Tonia so I can be the girl I'm becoming?"

"All right, Tonia, what are you waiting for," Stephanie demanded. "Look into the camera, pull that sorry excuse for a pecker from your pretty panties, and jerk off for us. Look in the camera, grab that disgusting hunk of flesh you're so desperate to save, and smile. We ALL want to see you do yourself and eat you steamy jism. Come on, GIRL, stand up and get with the program."

Tony had felt he couldn't fall any lower when he made the promise to Lydia. Now he knew he not only could fall lower, he had no choice but to do so. Embarrassed to his very core, the shattered man slowly staggered to his feet. Looking in the camera, he forced a weary ragged smile. Unfortunately, his humiliation had the very effect he so desperately wanted just a few moments before. The raging hard-on that had gotten him into this terrible dilemma subsided. Tony became terrified as he realized what had occurred. If he couldn't jerk off and eat his cum, he'd have to ask Lydia for a sex-change!

With growing panic, he hastily reached inside his panties and began to pull on his by then totally deflated manhood. Once more the one-eyed monster refused to obey. Earlier, when he wanted it to stay soft, it adamantly refused. Now that he HAD to get it hard, it simply ignored his increasingly frantic efforts. The harder he tried to get it up, the less responsive it became.

"Damn you, damn you, damn you," Tony cried out in frustration as he pulled his seemingly dead manhood. "You testosterone bastard! You're fucking me over! You betray me every fucking time. You make me do things I know I shouldn't. You don't listen! You fucking bastard!"

To the watching girl the forcefulness of his efforts seemed as if he'd pull his pecker right off his body. Despite his desperate efforts nothing happened. Stephanie could see the man was close to going over the edge and slowly eased her way to the door. Tony never noticed her slip out and lock him inside. Hastily she headed to the next dressing room and quietly informed her mother of what was happening.

"Lydia, let's go to my office for a few moments," Olivia announced forcefully. "Stephanie can begin Bobbi Jo's lessons in how to handle herself in skirts."

Stephanie understood and immediately stepped to the softly sobbing boy/girl. Tenderly she slipped a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Bobbi Jo, please step over here so I can show you how to properly handle yourself in skirts."

Bobbi Jo timidly raised his face to peer questioningly at his mother. "Be a good girl and go with Stephanie," Lydia told her new daughter. She had detected the quiet urgency in Olivia's voice and knew something was going on with Tony. "Stephanie will begin your lessons in how to be a proper girl."

As Bobbi Jo allowed himself to be led away, Olivia and Lydia hurried to the office where they could see Tony on the monitor. They watched in disbelief as he frantically abused himself.

Oblivious to every thing else, Tony continued to attempt to bring his manhood to obedience. It was only when he'd manipulated himself raw with blood oozing from several abrasions that he sank to his knees and released the traitorous flesh. Anger and hatred suffused his very being as he put his head on the floor and futilely pounded his fists on the floor. An unnerving almost inhuman roar of frustration erupted from his mouth.

With wild red eyes, spittle dribbling from the corners of his mouth, panting for air, and blood slowly flowing down his sore red manhood to drip onto the floor, Tony staggered once more to his feet. Insanity was not very far away. At that moment, he detested his once prized manhood. Collecting what little remained of his intellect he glowered at the camera.

"You were right," he grunted. "The damn thing has always gotten me in trouble. Now it won't let me jerk off. Take me to this Dr. Trate! Let her cut the fucking thing off! Let her rip off my balls! Have her give me a complete sex change! I'll fuck the first man you want me to screw. All I ask is that you do it now, tonight, while my hatred for the damned thing is still hot. Do it now, damn it! Do it now!" With that, Tony collapsed on the floor, curled into a fetal position, and cried.

Olivia pulled the tape and replaced it with another to keep Tony under surveillance. Then she plugged the removed tape into another VCR and replayed the events that led up to Tony's self-abuse.

"I'm sure Dr. Trate would be delighted to treat Tony on an emergency basis," Olivia informed Lydia. "It's your call. But think of this. If you don’t carry through on all the requirements, especially when he promised to meet them, you’ll lose control. You don't necessarily have to have him make love with another man, but I think you must force him to have the sex-change and hold the threat of forcing him to make it with another man over HER head."

"I really don't want him to lose his manhood," Lydia sighed. "But I know you're right. I guess if I really get desperate for a man, I can always go out and find another. Call Dr. Trate. My sister-in-law Tonia will be moving in permanently a lot sooner than I expected."

When Olivia called, she discovered Dr. Trate was in surgery doing a sex-change on another man who had just been brought in by his wife. When the good doctor discovered what Olivia's message was about, she immediately agreed to help Lydia with her problem.

Twenty minutes later an ambulance pulled up behind FairyTale Fashions. The uniformed attendants injected a sedative into Tony who was still curled into a fetal position on the floor. Moments later they bundled him off to the hospital where Dr. Trate eagerly awaited her newest patient. She had faxed a permission to treat form to Lydia. Olivia sent a signed copy back to the hospital. By midnight, Tony Waters would have ceased to exist. Tonia Waters would be resting peacefully in her room by early Friday morning.

While all this was occurring, Bobbi Jo was being trained to assume his new role as a prissy ten year old girl. Stephanie was firm yet gentle as she coaxed and guided the shattered remains of the once robust boy into mimicking a prissy girl.

It was difficult for Bobbi to accept all that had happened to him this day. As he stood before the mirror learning how to execute a perfect dainty curtsey he wondered what his erstwhile buddies were doing. They had expected him to show up at the school football field with his new football. By now they were probably cursing him and complaining that he was not dependable. A shiver swept through him as he imagined how they would react if they saw him dressed and looking like a prissy ten year old girl. There was no way he wanted to endure that harassment. Maybe, considering his current state and future, switching schools was a good idea. In a way he was relieved he'd not have to face his buddies.

The emasculated lad practiced walking with a sedate girlish gait as he repeatedly circled the room under Stephanie's watchful eye. The shorter stride wasn't nearly as awkward as the change required in his foot fall. Instead of the lanky heel first then toe sequence typical of boys, he had to learn to simultaneously plant heel and toe in the manner of a prissy girl. Once mastered, this mincing step imparted a natural girlish sway to his hips. The lessons were not difficult and much to his dismay he found that he learned the girlish movements easily. Much too easily to quell the unbridled fear of his boyish anguish. As he caught site of his reflection in the mirrors he saw what appeared to be a cute prissy ten year old girl. Even in her walk there was no sign that she had been a normal all-American boy just a few hours ago. The harassed lad had no doubts that his life as a boy was over. No longer would he join the guys on the football field. No longer would he even wear pants. By Wednesday he'd be attending parochial school as a girl. How much more would his life change?

Once he had mastered curtseying and walking like a girl, Stephanie began to teach Bobbi how to sit while wearing a skirt. Once more Bobbi quickly adapted to keeping his knees primly together and bending at the knees to demurely lower his skirted backside to the seat. It took even less time for him to learn how to smooth his skirt across his backside as he sat. Stephanie only had to remind him once of the necessity for a proper young miss to prudently keep her knees together while sitting. The feminized lad also learned that a modest young maiden dainty crosses her legs at the ankle and not at the knees as had been his previous habit. In both cases he learned quickly since he didn't want to show off his pretty panties As the lessons continued Bobbi found himself becoming acclimated to his new mode of dress. Granted, it was quite different but at the same time it felt a lot nicer. It required greater concentration and restricted what he could and could not do. Yet the clothing felt lighter, airier, and much less physically restrictive. It was undeniably comfortable. As the lessons took root in his formerly tempestuous mind, Bobbi felt less and less like an arrogant boy named Robert and more and more like Bobbi Jo, the cute girl he saw in the mirror.

When Olivia and Lydia joined Stephanie and Bobbi Jo, the girlish boy promptly rose and executed a perfect curtsey. Lydia was delighted and lovingly hugged her new daughter. They took Bobbi Jo to Olivia's office where they allowed him to see the video tape of his father's chastisement. Tears were freely rolling down Bobbi's cheeks when he heard his once proud father meekly make all the promises Stephanie demanded. Bobbi knew his feminine fate was sealed when he saw his father begging to have his sex changed. A shiver of inescapability swept over him.

"Your father is being prepped for the sex-change surgery right now," Lydia told the nearly destroyed boy. By morning he'll be a complete woman, your Aunt Tonia, your father's younger sister."

Bobbi Jo stopped resisting his mother's efforts to transform him into a ten year old girl. If his father had succumbed to the ordeal, what hope did he have of salvaging what little remained of his once treasured and much vaunted boyhood? How macho could he have been if he was so easily transformed from a boy into a girl? The same applied to his father. How much of a man could his father have been if he had begged to become a woman? What really tore at his lingering machismo was that he'd always tried to emulate his father. How many times had he heard people say he was a chip off the old block? That was proving all too true as he felt his boyhood disappearing into an enticing an delightful whirl of skirts. Still wearing his pretty dress, the sissified lad didn't offer the slightest resistance as his mother led him back to their car for the trip home. Several minutes later, clad in a new pretty pink baby doll nightie, Bobbi Jo cried himself to sleep.

While the Henry family was being turned upside down, Grace headed home with her darling sissies. Allie and Jamie sat silently in the back seat holding hands as ordered. While the idea of the brothers holding hands was still abhorrent, they found it to be a welcome commiseration in their mutual subjugation. They knew they were going to be kept as sissies indefinitely. Although the outcome of their humiliating encounter with Robert outside the toy store had gone a long way in relieving their anguish, they still felt horrible about the hurtful truth of Robert's taunts. It was only their mother's firm handling of Robert that had allowed them any respite from the ordeal. Tomorrow at school they had to appear before their buddies, classmates, and teachers as the sissies they had become. This made them feel sick as they dreaded what would happen. They knew Robert's horrible teasing and jeers would seem like a pleasant picnic compared to what they could expect from a whole day at school. They definitely did not look forward to going to school.

It was supper time when Grace arrived home. The house was dark, meaning Richard was not home. For a brief moment Grace feared her husband had run off, but then she realized he didn't have the balls to do so. In a few days, he literally wouldn't have balls. That cruel thought gave Grace great pleasure.

Allie and Jamie meekly followed their mother inside and took seats at the kitchen table. Following their mother's orders, each lad cuddled his dolly and listened as their mother explained how to prepare a meal. Meekly the brothers paid close attention knowing they had no choice.

"You will learn how to cook, how to wash dishes, and how to properly set a table," Grace informed the beleaguered lads. "You will learn how to keep a home clean and sparkling. You will learn how to do the laundry, iron, and put away the cleaned clothes. Tonight you'll watch and listen while you cuddle your dollies. The next time YOU will prepare and serve the meal while I watch."

Richard arrived home after a frustrating day of job hunting. No one would even accept his application or resume. Grace was training the boys as he forlornly entered the kitchen. Needless to say he was quite shocked to see his sons sitting primly at the table hugging dolls while their mother taught them how to cook.

"What the hell are you doing to the boys," Richard exploded at Grace. "It's bad enough you're ruining my life, now you're trying to ruin their lives! What are you trying to do, turn them into a couple of faggoty sissies?"

"As for you, I thought you were real boys, not a couple of pansy sissies," Richard complained as he turned to the boys. All his anger and frustration boiled out as he lashed out at the cowering brothers. "I'm ashamed to call you my sons. What a couple of pussies you've turned ut to be. Why I ought to..."

Outside, a small cyclone appeared by the window nearest to where Richard stood. It quietly rattled the window and disappeared as fast as it had arrived. Richard had teased his changeling sons and had thus fallen under the power of Heather's last wish.

"That's quite enough," Grace vehemently cut in. "You have a lot of damn gall to speak to Allie and Jamie like that after what you've done!"

Tears filled Allie's and Jamie's eyes as they wilted before their father's accusations and their mother's angry rebuttal.

"I'm not trying to turn them into faggoty sissies, but yes, I am trying to turn them into sissies," Grace replied with a bone chilling calm. "I suggest you watch this video before you get yourself into anymore trouble than you've already created."

Richard swallowed nervously and accepted the tape. One glance at the cowed meek heads of his sons and the smug assurance of his wife and he knew the tape would not be pleasant. Suddenly he realized that Grace still had him firmly by the balls. Meekly he took the tape and headed off to watch it.

Richard numbly watched his sons humiliate themselves before the assembled customers and clerks at FairyTale Fashions. Even though they had acted as if the entire thing was their idea, their enthusiasm while shopping for their nighties was just too realistic. The horrified man realized Grace had crushed the boyish ego of their sons. They had performed as depicted in a desperate effort to appease her, yet it seemed as if they were succumbing to her efforts to sissify the trapped lads. With this video tape, they would be completely under her power.

Jamie entered the room and curtseyed to his father. "Daddy, dinner is ready," he announced politely before turning and fleeing the room.

In absolute shock, Richard went into the dining room and took his accustomed seat. Grace was already seated smiling like the cat who ate the canary. Allie and Jamie entered carrying the meal which they dutifully placed upon the table before curtseying to their mother and taking their seats. The melancholy mood of the males was quite evident as the family ate.

"Allie and Jamie look so cute in their Lord Fauntleroy outfits, Grace informed Richard as the boys lowered their heads in shame. "As you saw on the video, our darling children are going to be undergoing quite a change in their lives. I expect your full cooperation in this, Richard, Is that clear?"

"Yes, it's clear," Richard replied as he watched the boys slump hopelessly in their chairs. "Look, I've kept quiet about what you're doing to me, but it's not fair to the boys. I really think..."

"You really think nothing," Grace coldly cut him off. "Your ass is mine. I own you now that you've signed power of attorney over to me. Don't you ever forget that."

Now it was Richard's turn to hang his head in shame and slump in his chair. Grace smiled with satisfaction.

"Children, I hope you understand what I just reminded your father," Grace turned to the cowering duo "Your father signed over full power of attorney to me. That means he can not sign any legal documents or enter into any legal agreements. Basically, it reduces him to the status of a child with me as his guardian, just as I am your legal guardian. That also means I am the only legal guardian for all three of you."

The boys grew even more depressed as Richard wilted. Grace smiled victoriously.

"Perhaps I should send you to school on Monday in your new sissy outfits," Grace intoned rubbing salt into the open wounds of their boyhood.

"Mommy please," Allie cried desperately. "It's going to be hell tomorrow at school just telling everyone our new names. If the guys ever suspect we dress up in sissy outfits... oh mommy, please, don't make us do that!"

As Allie pleaded, Jamie broke down in tears of fear and horror. Allie joined in as he finished his plea. Richard was also near tears.

"Grace, do what you want to me," Richard pleaded. "But have a heart for the boys. Please, don't make them wear their Lord Fauntleroy outfits to school."

"That's an interesting offer," Grace replied. "But you need to understand that Allie and Jamie are no longer boys. They are my sissies. Is that clear?"

Richard was helpless to disagree, but assumed that Grace was about to offer a deal. "I don't like it but I have no choice but to agree with you."

"Excellent," Grace declared. "Children, we're about to see how good your father is at keeping his offer to do whatever I want with him if I don't send you to school in your sissy outfits. Allie, Jamie, do you want your father to make good on his offer to do whatever I want in order not to be sent to school in you sissy outfits?"

"Yes, mommy," Allie and Jamie tearfully replied.

"Very good, children," Grace replied with smug satisfaction. "Richard, you've heard the children, and I will not make them wear the Lord Fauntleroy outfits to school if you make good on your offer to do whatever I want. Does your offer still stand?"

"Yes," Richard replied knowing he had just played right into Grace's plan. But then she'd once more trapped him, this time with what little trust remained between he and his sons. "I'll do whatever you want me to do if you don't send Allie and Jamie to school in their Lord Fauntleroy outfits. I'll take whatever you have to dish out like a man."

Allie and Jamie looked up at their father with a smidgen of hope and respect. He was sacrificing himself for them.

"Very good, darling," Grace replied with smug satisfaction. "Children, I'm taking your father for a short ride. I expect you to have the dishes washed, put away and to be working on your homework at the table by the time I return. Richard, get your coat and come with me."

"Where are we going," Richard asked as he followed Grace's example in getting up from the table.

"You'll find out soon enough," Grace chuckled as she headed for the closet to get her coat. "Just remember, you agreed to do whatever I want. I intend to surprise you. Now you be a good boy and bring the car around to the front door while I make a phone call."

Richard nervously did as he was ordered wondering what kind of hellish surprise awaited him. If he would have had the slightest idea, he'd have jumped in the car and sped away as fast and far as possible.

Grace made one phone call. Dr. Cassandra Trate smiled with deep satisfaction as she hurried to the hospital to meet Grace and Richard.

Richard followed Grace's directions as he drove. She adamantly refused to say anything about their destination, much to his growing consternation and uneasiness. Finally she ordered him to pull to the curve and stop the car. Before he could ask why they had stopped in front of the hospital Grace brusquely ordered him to exit the car so she could drive and he could sit on the passenger side. Richard was totally confused when they pulled into the loop at the emergency entrance to the local hospital.

"What are we doing here," Richard asked obviously befuddled.

Before Grace had time to answer, the passenger door opened. Richard turned to see a woman in a white lab coat lean towards him. Before he could react he felt a jab in his arm. Looking down in obvious distress and fear, he watched as the woman withdrew the needle. Almost immediately Richard felt a hot flash engulf his body. He could feel his heart pounding as beads of perspiration formed on his forehead. As he tried to speak, he discovered he couldn't catch his breath. Fear gripped him as he felt as if he was being suffocated. Whatever it was the woman injected into him, he realized he couldn't speak or otherwise communicate.

"Orderlies," the woman ordered. "Take this man directly into the surgical prep room. I need to operate immediately."

Richard wanted to scream and resist as two burly orderlies gently pulled his limp sweated body out of the car and placed him on a gurney. As his head lolled to the side, he saw Grace smiling and talking to the maniacally grinning white robed woman who was rubbing her hands together in ominous anticipation of what she was about to do. Still unable to control his body or to speak, all Richard could do was watch as the flourescent light fixtures in the halls whizzed by as the burly orderlies wheeled him deeper and deeper into the hospital.

Time lost meaning for Richard as the gurney came to a halt in a sterile white room. Several nurses took over from the orderlies. The nurses wasted no time in removing his clothes. They merely used scissors to cut everything away. Richard helplessly endured their poking and prodding as they shaved his entire body and face and took blood samples. Finally Richard saw Grace and the white robed woman loom into view.

"Richard, darling, I know you can hear and understand me," Grace spoke pleasantly. "I'm so glad you agreed to do whatever I wanted you to do to spare Allie and Jamie the experience of wearing their Lord Fauntleroy outfits to school. You see, darling, I'm sick and tired of your chauvinistic attitudes and desires. I'd like to introduce you to Dr. Cassandra Trate. She's going to do a few things to you to make you a better person."

"Hello, Richard," Dr. Trate leered down at him. "I'm so delighted to meet you. You must know that you have contaminated Allie and Jamie with the same dread condition from which you suffer and which I am about to treat. I call that condition testosterone syndrome, or TS for short. You, Richard, are a TS patient. Now in some medical circles, TS stands for transsexual. That is a person who is changing their gender from one sex to the other. It just so happens that the perfect treatment for Testosterone Syndrome is identical to the treatment for a Transsexual."

Despite his drugged state, Richard fully understood what Dr. Trate was saying. Exerting every bit of willpower and strength, he tried to escape. All that occurred was a few weak grunts as a wide eyed look of terror appeared on his face.

"I see you understand, Richard," Dr. Trate intoned. "In a few seconds you'll go to sleep. When you awake, you'll be cured of your testosterone syndrome. You'll be a woman in almost every way. Really, the only differences will be that you'll be spared the discomfort of a menstrual cycle and won't have to worry about becoming pregnant. So, my darling changeling, go to sleep. We'll keep you sedated for a month while everything heals. When you awaken, you'll be sweet Rikki." With that she jabbed another needle into his arm.

As things started turning black, Grace leaned close. "Oh, by the way, Dr. Trate is going to prepare you for the job Hillary Balkut is going to give you. You'll be the ditzy sexy receptionist for Balkut Engineering. She's going to make sure you have sexy legs to show off beneath cute miniskirts and nice firm boobies for the men to leer at as you do your job. Oh yes, I almost forgot. As Dr. Trate told you, you contaminated Allie and Jamie with Testosterone Syndrome. Dr. Trate will be treating them soon to, just like she is about to treat you. Pleasant dreams, sweety."

Anger suffused Richard. He wanted to scream. He wanted to climb off the bed and kill Grace and Dr. Trate. The two women had to be crazy! But all that happened was darkness and oblivion.

Dr. Trate had him wheeled into surgery as Grace returned home to Allie and Jamie.

Just after Dr. Trate completed the castration and penilectomy, a nurse came in with a message from Olivia Childress concerning a Lydia Henry and her husband Tony. Dr. Trate promptly dispatched the two orderlies in an ambulance to FairyTale Fashions, then turned to the reconstructive surgery.

While their parents were gone, Allie and Jamie washed the dishes and put everything away. Then they dutifully pulled out their books and sat at the table to study, another chore they were not accustomed to doing. The brothers worked silently as they thought about their dim future prospects. Neither lad was able to concentrate on their homework.

Grace made sure to arrive home silently. Quietly she entered the kitchen to check on the work done by Allie and Jamie. Then she walked into the dining room to find the boys staring unhappily at their books. "I'm glad to see you did a decent job in the kitchen," she announced startling them out of their dejected thoughts. "It's far from perfect, but acceptable for a first time. You'll improve with practice."

"Mommy, where's daddy," Jamie asked when he didn't see his father.

"He's doing what I want him to do," Grace informed the boys. "But then again, it's really the last thing he'll ever do."

"What do you mean," Allie asked with concern. "He's not going to get killed doing what you want him to do is he? If that's the case, you can send us to school in those sissy outfits. Just don't let daddy die."

"Your concern is admirable," Grace replied with a touch of pride seeing that the boys were already becoming less self-centered. "As of this moment, your father does not exist, but he has not died."

"You discovered that Stephanie was once a boy. In the same manner that Stephanie is no longer a boy, the person who was your father is no longer a man," Grace told the wide-eyed boys. "By now Dr. Trate has castrated him and completed a penilectomy. In a few hours, the person who was your father will become your aunt Rikki."

"You mean daddy's having his sex changed," Jamie whispered in fear.

"That's correct, darling," Grace implied. "Just as I offered you the chance at FairyTale Fashions to become girls. Changing him into a woman was what I wanted in order to keep from sending you to school in your sissy outfits."

The boys wilted as they thought of their father becoming a woman. Neither could picture that occurring.

"Dr. Trate has performed similar surgery dozens of times," Grace explained as they listened in horror. She did Stephanie and you saw how pretty she is. Your aunt Rikki will be a beautiful woman with shapely legs and nice firm breasts. She'll look to be about nineteen with an adorable face and long blonde hair. She'll work as a receptionist at Balkut Engineering."

The brothers exchanged looks of disbelief and horror. If they'd heard their mother's explanation just five hours before, they'd have scoffed at the very idea that a male could be transformed into a female. Now they were not sure. In fact, they were afraid it was all too true. Considering that their mother had offered them the chance to become girls, they really didn't doubt her bizarre tale, although they very much wanted to do so.

"It's still not too late to accept my offer for you to become my daughters," Grace smiled at the cowering boys. "In fact, I have every intention of seeing to it that you do become my adorable daughters. If you don't voluntarily do it, at some point you'll mess up so I can punish you by having you transformed. Now that your father is out of the way, I'll have no interference with my plans."

Allie and Jamie wished they could die as they contemplated their bleak future. That their mother would eventually succeed in transforming them into girls seemed to be a foregone conclusion. It was simply a matter of when.

"You might be interested to know that Heather and Leslie were boys," Grace told her squirming sons. "Dr. Trate transformed them into girls. Leslie was raised as a girl from birth so she doesn't know life as a boy. Heather, however, was a boy until a week and a half ago. In fact, you even went to the same school. Did you know a boy named Heath Reilly?"

The brother's blanched. While they had never been introduced or even had any interactions with the boy, they had been in the same gym class with Heath Reilly. But he was a freckle faced red-haired boy...just like Heather... and he had mysteriously dropped out of school a week and a half ago... over the Halloween weekend. Heather was definitely cuter, but they could see similarities. Both boys wanted to die.

Grace could tell the boys now recognized Heather as their former classmate. "Heather underwent the same surgery your father is having now over the Halloween weekend. You teased her about the wind flipping her skirt the day she was discharged from the hospital. She was withdrawn from school and enrolled in St. Patrick's Parochial School. The surgery isn't as involved for a boy who has not fully gone through male puberty as it is for a man. Like Heather, you two could come home in a day or two while your father's more extensive surgery will require a month in the hospital."

The boys wanted to run away or bury their heads in the sand like an ostrich. But they knew they were helplessly trapped. They knew they were doomed to become girls. they did not want to face such a horrid fate, but what could they do? They had already sacrificed their manhood and admitted they were sissies.

"Tomorrow you must do as you promised and tell everyone your new names," Grace reminded the boys. "You will be teased unmercifully by former buddies for being the sissies you have become. Do you really want to do that? Do you really want to go back to school as a couple of simpering sissies?"

Allie picked up on the hint. "No, I don't want to go to school as a simpering sissy," he whispered fearfully as he realized there was another option. "But the only way you'll let us avoid doing so is if we to ask you to transform us into girls."

"Very good, Allie," Grace smiled. "Jamie, do you understand what Allie just said?"

Jamie shivered and looked at his brother. "Are you saying we should ask mommy to turn us into girls," he asked Allie in disbelief.

"What other choice do we have," Allie answered dejectedly. "You know mommy's going to turn us into girls. We'll end up like Stephanie, Leslie, and Heather. Look what she's done to daddy. She's having him turned into a woman. Look at us, we've already lost our boyhood. You know we'll never get it back. We've been reduced to a couple of simpering sissies. We were always disgusted with sissies, now that's what we are. Why should we struggle with being harassed as a couple of simpering sissies only to lose even that tiny bit of boyhood when we make a mistake and mommy decides to have us changed to girls? It only makes sense to do it now and avoid all the hassles and anguish."

Jamie nodded his head slowly. "I guess you're right," he conceded. "But if we ask to be turned into girls, will we have to have to go back to school? We'll really be teased if we go back to school as girls."

"It doesn't make any difference when you become girls, you'll still have to go back to school," Grace replied. "The difference will be that you'll return to school at St. Patrick's Parochial School just as Heather did. I certainly will never expose my darling daughters to the possibility of teasing and harassment. Also just like Heather, only a few trustworthy people would ever know that you had once been boys. Once you make the change, only those who treated you or those you tell will know the truth."

Allie and Jamie exchanged looks of hopelessness and dejection. "So you’re saying that if we don't want to go back to school as sissies we have to become girls and go to St. Patrick's," Allie questioned.

"That's correct," Grace replied. "I'll keep you out of school tomorrow and take you back to FairyTale Fashions to be fitted for a totally girlish wardrobe. You'll see Dr. Trate in the afternoon for the preliminary medicals. Then you'll attend the Victorian Tea on Saturday as girls. I'm sure Heather, Leslie, and Sherry will be delighted to accept you as girlfriends. After all, Jamie will be in their class at St. Patrick's while Allie will only be one year ahead, that is unless you'd like to be in their class too. I'm sure that could be arranged. Sunday you'll enter the hospital for the surgery necessary to transform you into girls. By Tuesday you can come home and you can begin school as girls by Wednesday. Right now, the decision is yours."

"Some decision," Allie complained. "Whether to be a sissy or a girl."

"Just remember you'll be pretty girls," Grace reminded them. "Everyone teases sissies. No one teases pretty girls."

"Yeah, but guys always want to get into a pretty girl's panties," Jamie shuddered in response.

"Yes, that's true," Grace replied. "But stop for a moment and think of how often you wanted to get into a pretty girl's panties versus how often you even got to first base. A smart pretty girl learns how to handle guys who want to get into their panties. A smart pretty girl can wrap a horny guy right around her pinky and get him to do whatever she wants him to do. Think about how often that happened to you or some guy you knew."

Allie and Jamie just nodded their agreement to their mother's summary of a pretty girl. Yet while they dreaded being a sissy, they were still too attached to their boyhood to yield.

"One other thing you should consider," Grace informed them. "Once you're a girl, you won't have the testosterone flooding your body. It's the testosterone which makes guys stupid. It's the testosterone which makes guys horny. Think back to Heath Reilly. even though you didn't really know him, did you ever think he was a sissy or a faggot?"

"No," Allie answered. "In fact, he was always getting into trouble and gave the gym teacher a hard time. He knew how to push his buttons without going too far and getting in trouble. He seemed like an all right guy."

"I know for a fact he liked girls," Jamie replied. "He was part of a bunch of guys that tried to sneak into the girls' locker room."

"That proves my point about testosterone," Grace replied. "Just two weeks ago, Heath was a typical horny teenage boy who liked girls and probably hated sissies and faggots, right?"

"Yes," Allie and Jamie replied together.

"Yet just a few hours ago Heather Reilly was flaunting her girlishness and actually teasing and flirting with you, wasn't she," Grace asked.

"Yes," both boys sheepishly replied as they recalled the incident in the hall outside the dressing rooms at FairyTale Fashions.

"So Heath, by your own observations a typical testosterone driven boy, was changed into Heather. Again by your observations she is a typical giggly pretty girl," Grace summarized. "That startling change took place in less than two weeks. The reason such a rapid transformation can occur is the removal of testosterone and it's replacement by female hormones. It's your male hormones that make you stubbornly cling to your boyhood. Female hormones will help you discard your boyhood and embrace girlhood. Testosterone makes you think and feel like a boy. Once it's gone and replaced by female hormones, you'll begin to think and feel like a girl. That's exactly what happened to Heather. That's how she's made the transition to girlhood so easily."

The brothers hung their heads in the agony of indecision and terror. That morning the mere idea of giving up their boyhood would have been unthinkable. Now it seemed to be the only logical alternative. Yet the shattered remnants of their chauvinistic past refused to let them admit defeat.

Grace sensed their hesitation and knew enough about male thinking to know the boys simply could not ask to become girls. She knew they didn't want to go to school and face their former buddies as sissies, yet the alternative was too drastic to voice. They were, trapped in a hellish never never land by their machismo.

"I understand your dilemma," Grace informed the indecisive lads. "You don't want to face your buddies as the sissies you've become but you can't tell me you want to become girls. Your stubborn testosterone won't let you voice what you know is your only alternative. So, to save you that anguish and the feelings of guilt, I'll make the decision for you."

Allie and Jamie lowered their heads in shame and confusion. They guiltily exchanged looks of chagrin and hopelessness. Neither lad objected to their mother making the impossible decision for them.

"Very well," Grace announced after an uneasy silence from her erstwhile sons. "Tomorrow, I will keep you home and notify the school that I'm transferring you to St. Patrick's parochial School. We'll go to FairyTale Fashions for your new wardrobe and see Dr. Trate to get you started on the road to girlhood. Through Dr. Trate, St. Patrick's Parochial School will be contacted and your transition will be explained so that by Wednesday you'll both be able to begin attending the ninth grade as sisters with Heather, Leslie, and Patti as classmates."

Tears of frustration mixed with tears of relief as the boys remained silent. The decision was made. They could not object.

"Remove all the papers from your text books and pile them together so they can be returned to the school," Grace ordered. "Then take your pretty new undies and nighties to your bedrooms. While you do that I'll get a few garbage bags and finish cleaning all the male clothes out your dressers and closets. You won't ever be needing those clothes again. Keep what you're wearing now. You'll wear it tomorrow to go to FairyTale Fashions. It will be the last time you'll ever wear boy's clothes."

Like prisoners heading for the gallows, Allie and Jamie complied with their mother's orders. Neither lad looked at his brother. Their shame was too great. An hour later, both were in their bedrooms snuggling under their covers clad in their soft, pretty new baby doll nighties.

Grace entered each room to tuck the forlorn lad in. "If you feel up to it, I suggest you masturbate," she separately advised each shocked son. "I doubt very much whether you'll ever have the chance to experience an erection after seeing Dr. Trate."

Allie and Jamie cried themselves to sleep. Their mother's advise to masturbate proved useless since both boys were so upset by their future that neither lad could get an erection.

To Be Continued...

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