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Archive-name: Changes/bob1.txt

Archive-author: Ruth White

Archive-title: Bob Gets His - Part 1


     This story continues the adventures of Joseph Watson. The

wealthy man has been is kidnapped and by various frauds declared

dead, but in reality he is alive and working on an island,

somewhere within twenty degrees north or south of the Equator,

owned by the notorious Dr. Justine van Damme. The Doctor and Joe's

ex-wife, Gloria, wanted to punish him and get their hands on his

money. Toward this end, they applied state of the art

pharmaceutical treatments and surgical procedures on Joe. The end

result of all that attention was that Joe has been transformed into

an exaggeratedly sexy woman in all respects. His subconscious has

been programmed with depraved sexual urges to match his sensual new

body, but otherwise his consciousness is intact. He knows that he

is a man, no matter how he may be forced to appear or act, and

resolves never to forget that fact, thus making his punishment much

more effective. Joe now makes his way through life as a waitress on

van Damme's private island.

     Due to Joe's lack of legal acumen and foresight, his ex-wife

Gloria was appointed executrix of his extensive estate, but only

until his illegitimate son, Robert Watson, turns twenty one and

inherits it all. Gloria likes being wealthy and powerful and has no

intention of relinquishing the fortune to Robert, who has vowed to

ruin her financially when he gains control over his inheritance.

Justine van Damme has contracted with Gloria to effect a plan which

will result in Gloria's getting the money, and Robert being

maneuvered out of her way. Permanently.    



     "Gloria, may I have twenty dollars?" Bob Watson asked his


     "What ever for Robert dear?"

     Bob was really angry. He would shortly be inheriting his late

fathers millions, but for now he was reduced to begging this bitch

for money. "Someday she'll get hers," Bob thought to himself.

     "I'm going out with some of the guys tonight for pizza and a


     "O.K. dear, I'll get it for you."

     Bob really resented Gloria Watson, his father's ex-wife, who

was administering his estate. She went out of her way to make life

hell for Bob. Bob had grown up with his natural mother and the only

contacts they'd ever had with Joe Watson were support checks and

the occasional birthday card. Despite this, or maybe out of guilt

over it, Joe Watson had left the bulk of his estate to Bob.

     Bob had left home at eighteen, but shortly thereafter came

under the control of Gloria. Until he turned twenty one, she was in

charge of his life. He knew that there was a clause in the will

that allowed her to retain control of the estate if she could prove

that he was incapable of managing his own affairs, and he suspected

that she'd like nothing better than to do so. What really got to

him was the fact that she wasn't hardly any older than he was, yet

she treated him like a child.

     Gloria had moved Bob in with her so that she could exercise

ever increasing control over him. As Bob Weinstein had told her:

"Don't let him think for himself. Get him used to taking orders

from you and being obedient to you." 

     Gloria returned with the twenty."Here you go Robert. Oh, by

the way, I have a new girl coming tomorrow to be my secretary and

social assistant. Her name is Monica and she'll be living with us.

I'm sure that you'll want to be here to meet her."



     "I'm sorry Joe, it's not that you are not a good waitress,

it's just that we are over manned, our budget has been reduced, and

you've been here the shortest amount of time. You must understand.

I'm sure that Denice in personnel can fix you up with another job."

     Back on the island Joe was worried; he had just been fired

from his job as a waitress. Thoughts of being sent home to the U.S.

and having to prostitute himself ran through his pretty head. He

practically ran to the personnel office.

     "I'm sorry Joe, there's just no positions open that you're

qualified for."

     "Please. Can't you check again. I'll do anything."

     "Well, let me check the files. Hmmm...  It seems that Rhonda

is leaving us, but no. You wouldn't want to do that."

     "What's that?" Joe said, ready to grab at anything.

     "It seems that Dr. van Damme's personal housekeeper is

retiring, leaving a vacancy."

     "I can certainly keep house." Said Joe.

     "There's a lot more to this job than just changing sheets."

     "I don't care, just try me out at it."

     "Let me call Dr. van Damme and see if she's agreeable."

     After a conversation on the telephone Denice told Joe, "she

sounded skeptical that you could handle it, but she's willing to

give you a chance. You need to go see Mrs. Johnson and Donna for

the necessary training.



     "Wow, what a looker," thought Bob, staring at Monica.


     It was obvious to the tall blonde that the young man was

smitten with her. She would certainly turn that to her advantage.

In her most seductive voice, Monica told Bob, "I'm so pleased to

meet you. If there is ever anything I can do for you,just let me



     "That little pig." Thought Monica. 


     Bob had grabbed her ass as he walked passed. He continually

made a nuisance of himself around her, never missing an opportunity

to touch or rub up against her. Monica just smiled sweetly at him,

thinking to herself "he'll get his." 

     Monica played the boy like a fish and, before long, had him in

bed and believing that he had seduced her. Bob wasn't a very good

lover. Monica was just getting into the swing of things when he

came, rolled off of her, and went to sleep; thanks to the drug she

had slipped him. Looking at Bob's wilted cock, Monica remembered

how it had felt when she still had one. She recalled how she had

introduced Bob's father, Joe, to being on the receiving end of a

stiff cock, after his transformation into a sexy babe. Feeling

horny, Monica got dressed, thinking, "I sure as hell won't be

getting any satisfaction here tonight. Might as well go out and

pick up a real stud."

     After donning a provocative outfit, Monica put a tape in a

player and turned it on. It would play softly all night into the

pillow under Bob's head, filing it with radical notions. Looking at

the sleeping boy, she was curious, thinking "I wonder if he'll turn

out as pretty as his dad?"

     On her way out, Monica ran into Gloria.

     "Hi Monica, would you care to join me in a drink?"

     "I'm sorry Mrs. Watson, but I was just going out. Can I take

a rain check?"

     "Gee ... I really hoped you'd stay home with me tonight. I

have some tapes that make very interesting viewing and you're in

some of them."

     Monica could see that Gloria was more than a little drunk, and

more than a little horny. "O.K. Why not?"

     The tapes turned out to include one of Monica screwing Joe.

Gloria was very disappointed to discover that Monica's magnificent

cock was gone forever. However, the evening wasn't a total loss 

as they wound up introducing themselves to girl on girl love

making. Both of them discovered lesbian sex to be as exciting and

as satisfying as anything else they had ever done, if not more so.

     When Bob awoke the next morning, Monica was there sleeping

beside him. The young man was certain that he had found true love. 



     Joe was washing the breakfast dishes, when Dr. van Damme

called out to him, on her way out the door, "Joe I'll be home at

six with two guests. The cook has the menu, we'll eat in the blue


     "Yes, ma'am." Said Joe.

     Donna had trained Joe well in his new duties. It hadn't taken

him long to discover that he wasn't going to be a housekeeper,

instead, he was being trained as Dr. van Damme's maid. Joe had to

be up, washed, and dressed by seven a.m., in uniform of course. The

new uniform wasn't that bad; it was a lot more comfortable than his

waitress getup since Dr. van Damme didn't make him wear the hated

minimizer bra and a girdle. 

     Every morning Joe would don an underwire bra, which cradled

his abundant breasts in comfort, nylon panties, black panty hose,

black pumps, and a white satin blouse which was tucked into a black

taffeta skirt that fell to his knees. It was neither tight nor

revealing and Joe was totally at ease in it. He'd half expected to

be dressed in some skimpy little maids dress. Oh he was alright,

but only for special occasions.

     At seven o'clock, Joe would enter Dr. van Damme's room with

her breakfast and awaken her. While she ate, Joe would draw her

bath. Then while she bathed, Joe would make her bed, lay out her

clothing, and take the dirty breakfast dishes to the kitchen and

wash them. It wasn't a particularly arduous job and he had plenty

of free time. 

     Joe lived with the Doctor and stayed at her house most of the

time, preferring to avoid other people, especially men. Ever since

his changes, Joe had discovered that he couldn't trust himself

around men, somehow he'd developed an insatiable appetite for sex

with them. Joe had no clue that his newfound promiscuity was a

permanent part of his psychological make-up, only that he got

extremely aroused sexually around men. So he avoided the intense

embarrassment that his ensuing sexual antics caused, by keeping to

himself in Dr. van Damme's compound.   

     Joe had a busy day ahead of him today. In addition to his

normal duties, he would have to polish the silver and get dressed

up for tonight.  



     "Oui Madame." Said Joe. 

     If there were any strangers in the house, Joe was addressed as

Yvonne. Dressed as a French maid, he had to act the part. Mrs.

Johnson had taught him to pronounce French words with his

artificial voice box and his French vocabulary was at least the

equal of his English, which had been purposefully limited.  

     In preparation for tonight's little soiree, Joe had donned a

black satin and lace lingerie set consisting of; panty, garter belt

and push-up bra. He attached sheer white stockings to his garters

and slipped on a pair of pink satin pumps with five inch heels.

Over this he pulled on layers of stiff white petticoats, followed

by a low-cut, pink velvet French maid's uniform. Joe's hair was in

a ponytail and he tied a pink satin ribbon in a big bow to hold it

back. A little white lace apron and a choker and wristlets, of

white satin bordered with lace, completed his Yvonne costume.

     Joe curtseyed carefully, knowing that his stocking tops would

be revealed if he did not, and he didn't want to reveal any more of

himself than was absolutely necessary.

     "These are my guests, Hector and Miguel Gonzales."

     Joe curtseyed gracefully to them, "Bon soir, Messieurs. May I

get you drinks?"

     The two brothers were tall, dark, and handsome. Joe felt the

inevitable reaction of his body and averted his eyes from the men,

trying to concentrate on the task at hand.

     Other than to take note of Joe's exceptional beauty, the

Gonzales brothers paid him no more mind than they would any

servant. Joe overheard their conversation as he served the meal and

was able to piece together that the Gonzales brothers were frequent

visitors to Dr. van Damme's island, came from somewhere in South

America, were fantastically wealthy, and performed many services

for the Doctor including acting as her bankers. After the table had

been cleared, Joe was dismissed. He ran up to his room, where he

masturbated urgently, grateful that he escaped performing like a

wanton slut with the two brothers.

     Over cigars and brandy the Gonzales chatted idly with the

doctor. Finally Miguel spoke up. "This little thing Yvonne; she is

perfection itself. Is she by any chance available?"

     "Certainly. I shall have her report to your cottage, where

she'll be waiting for you. I must inform you though that she is, or

to be more precise, was a man."

     "Madre de Dios! You are kidding me."

     "Not at all. I have some very interesting tapes of her, I

really should say his, progress. You see, we have punished Joe by

ensuring that he can never forget that he was once a complete man.

Would you care to view them?" 

    "Oh no Doctor, I trust your word implicitly, but this makes the

prospect of a dalliance even more interesting. Let me ask this, is

your maid available for permanent acquisition?"

     "I'm afraid not, you see Joe, as he is called, doesn't know

it, but he's still being trained. Eventually he will be returned to

his ex-wife, who is responsible for what has happened to him." 

     Hector could no longer remain silent. "I too was considering

toying with this one. Perhaps brother we should settle for lesser


     "Ah, but of course." replied Miguel.

     To Dr. van Damme's questioning look Miguel answered. "The two

of us never share or have anything to do with a woman or any other

thing, such as your little Joe in this case, that the other

desires. We avoid the pitfalls of jealousies that way. Now if Joe

had a sister we could purchase them both and return to our homeland

with them."

     At this last Dr. van Damme looked up smiling, "Funny you

should bring that up. My personal motto is 'anything is possible',

and in this situation anything may indeed happen. I shall remember

your interest in Joe, if circumstances should happen to change."



     "So how are you guys going to handle Bob?" Gloria asked Monica

one evening, after a session of torrid love making.

     "Well we are going to use a variation of the technique we used

to get Joe to wear dresses without rebellion. Every night as he

sleeps, his mind under the influence of certain drugs that Dr. van

Damme's associates have developed, a speaker in Bob's pillow is

reprogramming his subconscious. When we are done, Bob will have the

mind set of a transsexual."

     "So how does that help me?"

     "One of two possible ways. After his programming is made

effective and has taken over, Bob will do anything to get what he

needs, including even signing away his inheritance if we handle it

right. If not, when he starts trying to get what he needs on his

own, his actions will allow you to have him declared incompetent.

Either way you will get his money."

     "And just what is it he'll be needing?" asked Gloria.

     "Why a sex change of course."

     "Do you mean to tell me that you can make Bob want to be a


     "We certainly can and not only that, but I heard rumors Bob

Weinstein has developed a way to make the body change itself, and

that one of his corresponding associates, a Dr. Mason, has had

great success experimenting with his concepts.

     "But I don't want to hurt him."

     "Oh we won't punish Bob like we did Joe. Bob will want and

truly enjoy what is going to happen to him. Trust me, this really

is the best way of getting him out of your hair."

     "So when does this plan begin."

     "Bob might be ready now. All we need is a chance to get him

dressed in women's clothing, which will unlock his programming."

     Gloria thought for a minute. "That's easy enough, listen to

this ... "


     Bob felt funny, he'd just shaven his entire body. He knew this

was peculiar, but for some reason it didn't bother him. Gloria was

throwing a Mardi Gras party and Monica had talked him into going

disguised as a girl. "I'll take care of everything." She had said.

"You'll probably win first prize." 

     Now he stood around naked and hairless, waiting for his lover

to dress him. Monica started with a little black thing, which she

pulled up around Bob's hips. It resembled a g-string and she tucked

his cock back under it, then tied it in place. The tight garment

really compressed his cock and balls. Looking at himself, Bob

couldn't see any sign of his manhood. "It's called a gaff Bob. It

will keep you safe from discovery."

     Bob winced as Monica tightened the laces of what she called a

ribbon corset. It relentlessly squeezed his waist into definite

female proportions. Spandex panties were pulled up and Bob

discovered that they were padded, producing the illusion of a

woman's hips and ass on his male body. Over this were placed white

satin panties.

     "Why do I have to wear these panties, no one will be looking

under my dress?"

     "Bob, it's a necessary component of the image you want to

present to your audience. In order to project an air of femininity,

you have to feel feminine, and wearing dainty lingerie will help

you do just that."

     Sheer, light colored panty hose were pulled up Bob's hairless

legs. A strapless long line bra was placed around his chest and

hooked up. Pads were fitted into in the cups of the bra. Bob saw in

the mirror that he presented a very feminine profile. For some

reason it seemed natural.

     A petticoat was held out and Bob stepped into it. It was drawn

up, positioned about his waist, and fell to mid-calf. The tea-

length dress, which Monica had selected for Bob to wear, was a

delicate confection of light turquoise acetate taffeta. Monica

helped Bob get it over his head, then she zipped it up for him. The

dress had a low scoop neck and sported a big bow over Bob's padded

fanny. Matching satin pumps were slipped on Bob feet and Monica

went to work on his make-up.

     Monica placed a long brown wig, the same shade as his hair,

over Bob's head and brushed it out. Stepping back she looked at her

handiwork: eyebrows, plucked thin, arched over heavily made-up eyes

while bright red lips smiled at her. Bob looked wonderful.

     "He'll make such a pretty girl," thought Monica.


     At the party Bob was a smash. He looked just like a young girl

at her prom and no one would believe otherwise. The longer he

remained dressed as he was, the better Bob felt about it. It felt

entirely natural to be dressed as he was; he felt free and at peace

with himself.



     Bob Watson couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. For

about a month now, he had no appetite, had lost weight and interest

in sex with Monica, and had been very stressed out. Gloria sent him

to a doctor who had found nothing wrong with him, but referred him

to the psychiatrist that he was waiting to see, suspecting that

whatever it was bothering him, might be psychosomatic. Bob looked

at the name on the diplomas on the wall; Dr. Robert Weinstein.

     Bob had been talking to the Doctor for about ten minutes, when

the Doctor suggested hypnosis. "I guess I'll try anything," was

Bob's reply.

     Bob didn't know what to expect. He was given a shot and told

to look at a strobe light. He did so, then looked at the doctor,

"When will I be hypnotized?"

     "You have been Bob, you were under for about an hour."

     Bob was shocked, he had noticed no passage of time. "What did

you find out? Will I be o.k.?"

     "Bob, perhaps I should call your guardian in to discuss this."

     "No. Please Doctor. Whatever is wrong, getting Gloria involved

will only make it worse."

     "O.K. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but deep in your

psyche there is a woman trying to get out."


     "You are what we call a transsexual. We have no idea what

causes this, but your subconscious mind is that of a female. You

have repressed this trait so deeply, and it is so strong, that the

resulting psychological conflict is manifesting itself by

disrupting your health."

     Bob could not believe what he'd just been told. Then he

remembered the night he had dressed as a girl for the party, and

how he had felt about it. "Could wearing a dress cause this to

happen to me?"

     "No. This has always been in you. However, wearing women's

clothing could upset the delicate psychological balance of someone,

like yourself, who had been successful in suppressing his

transsexuality. Why? Have you done so recently?"

     "Well, I dressed up like a girl for a costume party about a

month ago."

     "Yes, that could have set you off."

     "So what can I do to get over this?"

     "Bob, I am afraid that it is not that simple. Years of

research with thousands of transsexuals has shown us that there is

only one thing that you can do and experience permanent relief, but

I do not think that you are quite ready to talk about that just

yet. You first have to get over the shock of finding out what you

are. To help you with that, I would like to refer you to a

colleague of mine, with much more experience in these matters, at

The Institute for the Amelioration of Gender Dysphoria."



     Bob was despondent, every day his anxious longing to be a

woman grew in intensity, with no relief in sight. He had been well

received at The Institute, and the director, Leslie van Damme, had

interviewed him personally as a favor to Bob Weinstein. 

     Bob had found Dr. van Damme to be a tall stunning blonde, he

also found out that she was a man. Bob discovered that he was not

alone. Indeed, the Institute had helped hundreds of others like

himself to become the women that they knew they were. Bob's tests

showed that he was definitely a transsexual and the Institute would

accept him into it's program.

     The road to womanhood was a long one, stretching over years.

Changing his sex would be a momentous and irreversible decision;

Bob would therefore be required to complete many prerequisites,

such as hormone therapy, which would ultimately result in him

living and working as a woman for a year to prove he was serious

about becoming one, before he would even be considered for surgery.

The problem was that Bob couldn't wait years. He needed relief now,

before he went insane.

     At dinner one night. Gloria confronted him. "What's been

troubling you Robert dear? You just mope around the house all the

time. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

     "No, I'm afraid not, but you might as well know what the

Doctor said. I am what they call a transsexual. My mind is the mind

of a woman and if I don't do something about it soon I will go


     "So what is it that you want to do?" Asked Monica.

     "Well it is not so much want as need. Science cannot change my

mind to match my body, but they can change my body to match my

mind, so eventually I plan to undergo sex reassignment surgery."

     Gloria grinned. Bob missed it and she was able to regain her

composure before saying; "Do you mean a sex-change? Isn't that a

little extreme dear?"

     "Perhaps it is," Bob replied, "but it's my only hope. They

can't even help me anytime soon. It takes forever to get ready for

the surgery."

     Then, per her instructions, Monica chipped in, "I read

somewhere that they do sex changes in other countries where there's

no wait and supposedly they do a much better job."

     "Really?" Asked Bob, his curiosity piqued.

     "Yes, except I read that it is horribly expensive."

     "That's O.K. I have plenty of money."

     "I don't think so young man." Interjected Gloria."You don't

get your money for another three years, and if you think that I

will approve of you doing such a thing to yourself, or give you the

money for it, you are seriously mistaken."

     Bob was close to tears, to be given new hope and then have it

taken away so quickly, was almost too much for him to bear. Then he

saw what he must do.

     "Please Gloria, you have no idea how much this means to me; it

is life or death. I need to be a woman. I know that you don't get

anything once I inherit and I'm sorry for what I said to you about

screwing you over when I get my money. I apologize. If you'll only

let me do this, I promise that I'll give you all the money you

could possibly want."

     Bob was in tears now; he got up and went to Gloria's chair,

kneeled and took her hand. "Please Gloria, I beg of you, save me,

help me become a woman."

     "Oh I will Robert. Don't you worry," thought Gloria. "You'll

get your wish in spades."

     Gloria looked at Bob for what to him seemed an eternity.

"Perhaps we can work something out." She said at last. 

To be continued...



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