Archive-name: Changes/joe4.txt

Archive-author: Ruth White

Archive-title: Guinea Pig, The - 17-22





        Part 4 of the continuing adventures of Joe Watson



                             CHAPTER

                               17



     Monica entered Joe's room with her gear and looked at the

sleeping man. Lifting the satin coverlet from his body, she paused

to watch the rise and fall of his breasts under his satin and lace

negligee as he breathed. The drug in his dinner had worked well.

Continuing with her task, Monica pulled the hem of his negligee up

over his hips. The only natural hair left on his body was a

triangle of silky pubic hair. Monica lathered it up and began

shaving it off.



     Joe woke up muddled the next morning and tried to get up.



     "Joe, get back in bed," said Monica. "And lie on your

stomach."



     Joe did as directed, but wasn't very comfortable; his breasts

didn't make very good pillows. Monica flipped Joe's negligee up to

reveal the soft globes of his ass cheeks. Placing her hand in the

small of his back to hold him still, she injected the contents of

a needle into one. Joe felt a sting as the needle slipped into his

right buttock. "What's that for?" he asked Monica.



     "Don't worry about it. Just turn over and lie back."



     Monica left the room. When she returned, with two attendants

pushing a gurney, Joe was out like a light. She watched the

gorgeous man as the negligee was striped from his lush body, which

was then transferred to the gurney. Joe was wheeled out of his

room, and into a new life.



                             CHAPTER

                               18



     Joe was dreaming. He was chasing a pretty blonde girl. She was

a knockout and he wanted her. He wanted her so badly that his balls

itched, and his cock was so hard it hurt. Then it dawned on him;

the girl he was chasing was himself, as he looked now. 



     Joe woke up. He was very dizzy, but able to comprehend that he

was in his room. He didn't notice the lack of sensation below his

waist. Dr. van Damme, Monica, and another doctor were at his

bedside.  Joe giggled. "Hi guys. What's going on."



     The doctor shot a needle into the IV drip in Joe's arm. Joe

started to fade. "Hey Monica, you're looking great. Say my balls

ache, would you rub them for me?"  Then he was gone.



     Monica looked at the doctor curiously. "How could he?"



     The Doctor answered her. "The same way some amputees get

cramps in the calves of legs that aren't there anymore."



                             CHAPTER

                               19



     Joe gradually returned to consciousness. Trying to check

himself out, he discovered his restraints. "What has that crazy

bitch done to me now?" he thought.



     What was there left to do to him? "No. Monica said the Doctor

wouldn't do that," he recalled.



     Dr. van Damme, the surgeon, and Monica entered his room,

alerted to his awakening by the monitors. "Don't try to move Joe,"

said Dr. van Damme. "You've been given a spinal block and can't

feel below the waist. You might hurt something by moving around

with no sensation."



     "So what bunch of suffering human beings am I helping today?"

Joe asked her cynically.



     "I'm happy to tell you Joe, that you represent new hope for

thousands of transsexuals."



     "WHAT?" 



     "Well, since you asked. Many men aren't men at all, but rather

a woman's psyche in a man's body. Their only possibility of

happiness is sex reassignment surgery; what you'd call it a sex

change. The problem is that the state of the art of surgery today

results in more mutilation than change. The post-operative

transsexual is usually left with a pathetic imitation of a vagina.

I'm happy to tell you that the surgical procedure we have

developed, and tested on you, was totally successful in the

construction of fully functional female sex organs."



     Joe was shrieking and in shock. 



     After several minutes he looked up, still wailing. "But

Monica, you said ... " 



     "I told you that you could keep your precious little balls you

foolish boy, and I didn't lie to you."



     Monica held up a mirror so Joe could see his face. Brushing

his hair back from his ears she pointed at two diminutive gold

globes, one of which adorned each earlobe.



     "I had them freeze-dried, gold plated, and permanently

attached. You'll keep them forever!"



     Joe sobbed in his pillow.



     Later on, having cried himself out, the giddy man addressed

Dr. van Damme. "So you did it. You've changed me into a woman."



     "Not really Joe. Let's examine your situation. You have the

beauty, the figure, and now even the secondary sex characteristics

of a woman. You may, over time, even acquire the needs and desires

of a woman, but you are and shall always be a man since you lack

what truly makes a woman female; a womb and ovaries. However, you

also lack what makes a man male; a penis and testicles. Now a woman

is the equal of a man, but since you are something less than a man,

it follows that you must be less than a woman. Don't you ever

forget that you are an imitation, a plaything created in

retribution for the way you lived your life. You're gorgeous,

you're sexy, but basically Joe, you're only a eunuch." On that note

she left with the surgeon.



     In the hall outside, the surgeon asked her. "Why were you so

severe with him? He's been through a lot. His vagina cannot be

distinguished from that of a genetic female and I did a superb job

on the plumbing. Why any gynecologist who examined him would

testify in court that he is a woman who has suffered from cancer

and been given a hysterectomy ."



     Dr. van Damme answered him. "Doctor there's more going on here

than meets the eye. Part of what we are doing to Joe is punishing

him. Dave Weinstein's earlier experiments have shown us that a man

who is feminized unwillingly can eventually find refuge in his

femininity. Dave tells me that this approach we're using on Joe

will establish in him a streak of rebellion which will prevent that

from occurring. He will cling to the fact that he is a man, even

though he could never convince anyone of that fact."



     They walked on.



     Later, in his bed, Joe thought to himself. "They may give me

a woman's body, but I'm still Joe Watson. My body may betray me,

but my mind won't. I will not let it. I'm Joe Watson and I'm a man,

and no matter what they do to me, I'll always remember that in my

brain, where it counts. They'll never conquer my spirit."



                             CHAPTER

                               20



     Joe lay in his bed. He had lost count of the days and weeks as

he watched the world go by through the fog of drugs and, after the

spinal block had worn off, pain. 



     With the passage of time, his body recuperated and this

morning the doctor had removed the last bandages shielding his

operation, pronounced him fully healed, and extracted the catheter.

It felt very peculiar to Joe, to have his insides probed and

scrutinized like that.



     Joe refused to look at himself, and tried to ignore his

metamorphosis. Then the inevitable happened; he had to go to the

bathroom. He tried to ignore his bladder, but couldn't for long.

Reluctantly, he got out of bed, thankful for the long satin

nightgown, which covered him from neck to ankles. 



     In the bathroom, Joe frowned at the toilet. "I guess I'd

better get used to this."



     Raising the back of his gown, Joe lowered his abundant ass

onto the seat. "At least those muscles haven't changed," Joe

thought as he urinated. Joe enjoyed the relief pissing brought and

when he was done stood up. letting his gown fall only to feel

wetness on his thighs as urine ran down them.



     "Cripes!"



     Joe gathered up his gown and sat down again. He'd forgotten

that girls had to wipe. Even though he wasn't a girl, he still

pissed like one and had to copy their hygienic techniques. He

bunched up some toilet paper and, looking away, stuck his hand down

and dabbed. When he was satisfied that he was dry, he got up and

returned to bed.



     Outside his room, Dave Weinstein spoke to Monica. 



     "I am certain that Joe is depressed, resentful, and hostile

over the removal of his genitals. I think we should give him some

valium, then why don't you get him dressed as we discussed and see

if we can get his transvestite programming to take control of his

emotions.



     Monica entered the room.



     "Up and at 'em Joe."



     Joe just glared at her.



     "Joseph Watson! You get out of that bed right now and take

this medicine, before I call Dr. Van Damme and have you punished."



     Joe complied, and after he had swallowed the Valium, Monica

sat him down and went to work on his hair to kill time until the

medication calmed him. Monica rolled Joe's hair up in curlers and

put lotion on it to keep the curls in. When she was done, Monica

pulled Joe's gown off. He instinctively brought his hands up over

his breasts. Monica snickered at this. "Oh come on Joe. There's no

secrets between friends, right? Here hold these."



     Joe held up what looked like a pair of stockings, but they

were different. Holding them up, he recognized them as fishnet

hose. He hadn't seen them on a woman in years, except in some of

his men's magazines. Part of his mind considered what he would look

like in them. Not counting on Joe's cooperation, Monica put a

garter belt around his waist and hooked it in back. After sitting

him down, she rapidly rolled the hose up each leg. Standing Joe up,

Monica hooked up the hose and tightened the suspenders. She noticed

that he wouldn't look down. Sitting him down again, Monica slipped

shoes on his feet; red patent leather open-toed sandals with ankle

straps and five inch heels. She noticed how his red toenails peeked

out through the mesh of his stockings. "Sexy," she thought as she

buckled the straps tight.



     Monica brought out a pair of French-cut black satin and lace

panties. She put them on over Joe's shoes then, standing him up,

pulled them slowly up his legs. Joe perceived a new sensation as

Monica pulled the panties up over his hips, a slight pressure on

his genital area that he 'd never experienced before.



     All of a sudden Joe wanted to see what he looked like. He

walked over to the mirror. "Boy don't my legs look great?" Joe

asked himself.



     Joe still resented the loss of his cock and balls, but the

drug had taken effect and besides, part of him liked the fact that

his panties fit properly now; with no protrusion or bulges from his

cock or balls. Joe could see his pubic hair, which had regrown,

through the lace, which ended at a satin panel which was flush

against his crotch. Beneath the taut material Joe could see the

outline of his new vulva. The transvestite in him was elated. Isn't

this the ultimate in cross-dressing? Joe felt his nipples tingle. 



     "Where's my bra?" he asked Monica.



     "We're going to try something different today. Just wait."

     Monica had Joe step into a skirt and she worked it up over his

hips. It was a black kidskin miniskirt and was it ever tight. Not

knowing that the clothes were designed to fit like that, Joe

thought. "I've got to lose some weight."



     Joe looked at his profile. No outline of his cock showed, just

the feminine swell of his pelvis under the skirt. Monica held up a

strip of red leather and wrapped it around Joe's chest. "What's

that?" he asked.



     "It's a bustier. Don't worry it will support you."



     Monica pulled it together and fastened it. Joe's breasts were

tightly confined in its firm grip and he could tell that it would 

support them, but looking down he discovered that it sure as hell

didn't cover them. It just squashed his breasts together and

offered them up for public inspection.



     Monica wrapped a white patent leather belt around his waist

and gave him a matching purse. Taking an atomizer, she sprayed Joe

with perfume; behind his knees, between his breasts, on his neck

and shoulders. Joe was enveloped in an intoxicating fragrance.

Monica put the bottle in his bag, then removed the curlers from his

hair. Lifting Joe's golden curls, she placed a fine gold chain

around his neck. Attached to it was a locket which settled in his

cleavage. Joe picked it out. "I wonder what this is?" he thought.



     Joe found a tiny latch and managed to open it. Inside was a

picture of himself; before any of the changes. Joe just stared at

it, surprised that he wasn't annoyed at this final humiliation. The

drug had kicked in Joe was not in control of his emotions. Rather

than anger or hate, some other passion built."I wasn't a bad

looking hunk," thought Joe as Monica brushed out his hair.



     Joe didn't know it but he was getting turned on by his own

picture. His nipples stiffened and then he felt a well-known

commotion in his crotch. He was getting a hard on."Is it possible?"

Joe wondered. "Maybe my cock isn't gone, just hidden." 



     Joe resolved to check it out at the first opportunity, as he

shut the locket and returned it to the valley between his boobs.

Monica put some dangling gold earrings in his multiple-pierced ears

and gave him a gold link bracelet and a huge aquamarine ring.

Slipping the ring on his right ring-finger, Monica told him,

"Remember this Joe, aquamarine is your new birth-stone."



     "What do you mean?"



     "Well you're a new man, so to speak, so we'll use the day you

were made to celebrate your birthday from now on."



     Joe followed Monica, finding it was much easier to walk

without his balls being pinched all the time. He liked the feel of

leather on his skin, the way his hair bounced when he walked and

brushed against his shoulders and back, and especially he liked the

perfume he wore. Joe knew he must look pretty sexy and he felt

sexy, but it never occurred to him, that he looked for all the

world, like a very beautiful, very high-priced call girl. As he

sashayed down the hall; breasts bouncing and hips and ass swaying

with every mincing step he took.



                             CHAPTER

                               21



     Joe ate breakfast with Monica and, having nothing to do,

followed her around all morning. As time wore on, Joe became more

accustomed to the clothes he wore, and at ease with his new

appearance. He was unaware that every man who laid eyes on him

lusted after him.



     When Joe had followed Monica into her office and taken a seat,

she realized what had been bothering her about him. Except when his

body and dress required that he move otherwise, Joe still sat and,

in some situations, moved like a man. Right now he sat with his

legs apart. Monica could see his garters at the tops of his

stockings and glancing up, she could make out his vagina in it's

satin embrace.



     "He's got learn not to flash that pussy of his around so

conspicuously." She thought. "Oh well, I'll tell Dr. van Damme and

she can put Mrs. Maxwell on it."



     Later, Monica took Joe to lunch where he was given a tuna

salad, despite his preference for roast beef. After they had eaten,

Monica told him. "I always take a little nap after lunch. Why don't

you try it?"



     "Maybe I will. I still feel very worn out."



     Monica and the attendants found him on the bed with a fashion

magazine open in his lap; the hypnotic in the iced tea had worked

to perfection. Joe was wheeled to the operating theater where his

belt, bustier, skirt, and panties were removed. After his inert

form was laid out on a table, his legs were spread apart, and his

feet placed in stirrups as if for a pelvic exam.



     The plastic surgeon who had created Joe's vagina lectured to

the audience, while a television camera zoomed in for close-ups,

which in turn, were relayed to monitors throughout the room. "There

were two very significant improvements included in the many

innovations introduced with this subject's procedure. First, I was

able to preserve the penile nerves intact and bundle them together.

Secondly, we removed some of the mucous membrane from a section of

the subject's large intestine. This was cultured, a mutation was

induced, and it was then used as the lining for the vaginal wall."



     "The results versus conventional sex reassignment surgery are

vastly superior; the penile nerves retain full tactile sensation

with the ability to provide pleasure when touched, just as the

penis would. There is no danger of the vagina closing up, so we can

do away with the need to keep a form inserted. The lining, when

irritated, secretes a fluid, sort of like a runny noses, not very

different from a female's natural lubricant. nose."



     The doctor pointed out the highlights for the television

camera as he went on. "Here we have the mons veneris. Here the

labia majora or outer vaginal lips, constructed from the scrotum

and inside the labia minora. This is the clitoris, formed from the

foreskin  where the penile nerves were. It functions not very

differently from the way the subject's penis did; when aroused, it

engorges with blood,  although the increase in size is minimal, and

when stimulated can produce the muscular contractions known as

orgasm. The labia minora, or inner vaginal lips, which were created

from the leftover penile tissue and mucous membrane."



     The crowd murmured it's approval. All of the assembled doctors

admitted it was near impossible to tell Joe's man-made vagina from

the real thing.



     Dave Weinstein took the stage as various devices were attached

to Joe's body; rubber molds with wires running out were put over

his breasts, the projection box was lowered over his head, a shape

resembling a large cock with a metal ring around it was carefully

inserted into his vagina, then a thin probe was forced into his

anus.



     Dave spoke. "You will recall Dr. Locke said that the subject's

vagina will secrete a fluid when irritated. What I hope to

accomplish is to trick the subject's mind into confusing sexual

arousal with vaginal irritation, much as Dr. Pavlov tricked his

dogs."



     Joe was brought up to a trance state. The device in his vagina

vibrated, irritating the lining. When the fluid was secreted it

completed an electrical circuit in the device and a green light lit

on the control console. "Excellent," said Dave. "Now we hot-wire

our little beauty's neural network for pleasure."

 

     The cups over Joe's breasts were shaking and the plug in his

vagina vibrated, along with the probe up his ass. Inside the box,

all the images programmed into Joe's pretty head to be sexually

stimulating were flashed before him. The pleasure center in his

mind was excited by induction to the metal wires still in his

skull. 



     This went on for some time, and at the end, tiny electrical

shocks were pulsed through Joe's breasts, vagina, and ass. Then the

plug was removed from Joe's vagina and dried completely. 



     After a short wait, Dave Weinstein inserted a tiny metal probe

into Joe's vagina and reset the light to red. "And now the moment

of truth."



     The psychologist flicked a switch. Inside the box, images of

virile young men, naked with large erect cocks, were projected into

Joe's subconscious. Dave Weinstein speculated silently. "Would the

brain recall it's programming and find the pictures erotic? Would

the conditioning work?"



     The crowd waited expectantly. 



     Dave started to worry. 



     Then the green light flashed on.



     It worked. Joe was lubricating himself in response to sexual

stimulation. The audience roared it's approval. Dave Weinstein

looked down at Joe. The transfigured man was unconsciously

undulating his pelvis, the way a highly aroused woman would do.



                             CHAPTER

                               22



     Joe was awakened by Monica shaking him. "Come on sleepy head.

Wake up. It's dinner time, you slept all afternoon."



     Joe remembered distinctly the graphic visions he had dreamed.

He didn't want to talk, or even think, about them. Noticing that

his mini-skirt had risen up over his thighs, Joe tugged it down as

he got up on his high-heeled feet.      Joe discovered that he was

hungry, but was surprised to find himself still tired. "Well they

say too much sleep is the same as not enough," he recalled, and

thought no more about it.



     The two lovelies went to dinner, after Joe paused to refresh

his perfume. He loved the scent. Monica laughed silently. "Boy, if

only he knew."



     The boys in the lab had concocted the stuff and called it "Eau

d' Joe." It had been formulated with the sole objective of

attracting men. It contained all the scents that the masculine

psyche found sexy and alluring on a woman, and was liberally laced

with female pheromones, which not only served to inflame Joe's 

remaining masculine passions, but also those of any male who might

be within range of the compelling fragrance.



     After dinner, Monica took Joe to the island's theater, where

they watched a movie. Joe experienced weird emotions running

through his body. He wrote them off as being induced by the well-

made thriller. It never dawned on him, that those vivid sensations

coincided with the appearance of the movie's handsome star on the

screen.



     On the way back, Monica picked up a bottle of wine. When they

got to Joe's room, she said. "Joe, go in and take a shower and get

ready for bed. I'll get a corkscrew and some glasses."



     Joe showered, avoiding any contact with his remodeled gender.

His earlier interest had worn off, and he didn't want to deal with

it now. Joe dried and put on his most attractive negligee of

shimmering pink satin and lace. He loved both the way it felt, and

the way it displayed his magnificent body.



     Monica returned. She had changed into a blue satin and lace

teddy covered by a matching short gown. She opened the wine and

poured to glasses handing one to Joe.



     "So tell me Joe. How did you like the first day with your new

body?"



     The abruptness of Monica's question caught Joe off-guard.



     Joe and Monica weren't the only ones enjoying a sip of the

grape. In her office, Dr. van Damme and Dave Weinstein savored a

rare tipple as they watched the unfolding scene.



     "Here's where Monica earns her pay," said Dave.



     After a minute, Joe started crying. "Oh Monica. I don't know.

Part of me likes it; looking so sexy and wearing such fantastic

clothes. But inside I'm still a man. It hurts so much; every minute

that I'm in this body. It's so degrading to know that I'll never

escape from this masquerade. What can I do." By this time he was

was weeping.



     "Don't cry Joe." Monica lifted up his chin and gently kissed

him on the lips."When you can't change something, accept it, and

try and make the most of it."



     Monica hugged Joe until his tears subsided, then lifted the

sniffling man up and carried him to the bed. Joe hadn't known the

big girl's strength. Monica got into bed with Joe and kissed him

passionately, while easing the straps of his negligee over his

shoulders, uncovering his well-developed breasts. Monica tenderly

fondled each in turn, feeling his nipples harden.



     Monica gave Joe a long-lingering kiss, examining every corner

of his mouth with her tongue. She then turned her attention to his

breasts, licking and sucking first one then the other, until both

were stiff with desire. Joe didn't know what to make of this, but

he knew that he liked it. He felt very hot between his legs and the

sensation that he was getting a hard-on was back. Joe moaned with

pleasure when Monica placed her hands under his hips and trailed

her tongue down across his belly to find the lips of his vagina

moist and enlarged with his passion. 



     Monica flicked her tongue over Joe's vulva then teasingly

poked it back and forth between the lips. Joe spread his legs even

wider as Monica took her hands out from under him, using her

fingers to gently stretch his cunt wider. With her tongue, Monica

found Joe's clit, which had been fashioned from the sensitive

tissue of his cock and contained the penile nerves. Seeming to

recall it's previous function, it swelled, trying to become erect.

Monica took it in her mouth and sucked and nibbled on it with her

teeth.



     Delirious with pleasure, Joe took his hands with their long

red nails and grabbed his breasts. Taking a nipple between each

thumb and fore-finger, he pinched them, sending even more waves of

pleasure through his body. He tried to grind his crotch against

Monica's face but she pulled away. Joe wished she'd continue eating

his pussy, but instead Monica kissed Joe on the mouth again. "Being

a girl can be enjoyable Joe."



     When they broke for air, Monica whispered. "Joe dear. I have

a surprise for you. Rising on the bed she undid the belt of her

gown. Reaching down she unsnapped the crotch of her teddy and

pulled it up. Out popped an erect cock. Monica was a man!



     Joe didn't know what to think of this, he was both frightened

and fascinated by it. "Monica. What? ... I don't know ... "



     Pushing Joe back on the bed Monica said, "There, there Joe. I

promise I'll be gentle with you."



     Joe wasn't aware of it, but his subliminal programming had

pre-disposed his masculine mind to accept the orientation of a

heterosexual female and Monica had been chosen to be the agent of

Joe's introduction to this lifestyle. Since his mind was still male

and he really lusted after the pretty blonde, her apparent

femininity would overcome any objections his masculine ego might

raise.



     Giving up, Joe decided to go with the flow, and he laid back

and relaxed, as Monica resumed licking his hot pussy. After a short

interval, Joe was writhing in pleasure again. Positioning herself

between Joe's legs, Monica rubbed the head of her cock against

Joe's cunt.



     Joe was too far gone to care what happened now. Monica

inserted her shaft slightly between the lips of Joe's pussy,

letting his new cunt get used to penetration for the first time.

When she felt the time was right, Monica rammed the entire length

of her large cock into Joe. At this Joe took notice; letting go of

his breasts and opening his eyes to look at Monica. It dawned on

him with a flash.



     HE WAS BEING FUCKED.



     LIKE A GIRL.



     AND HE LOVED IT!



     Monica began a slow piston-like movement. Joe pulled her close

to him, put his legs up over her hips, and crossed his ankles. Joe

was amazed at the sensations he felt as Monica's prick penetrated

deep inside him. He could feel every inch as it slid in and out of

his hot wet cunt. It was so intense, so exciting. He was panting

now, and making faint unintentional moaning sounds. Joe could feel

Monica's cock swell and his body was racked by spasms, accompanied

by louder moans as he experienced his first female orgasm,just as

the she-male commenced pumping her load of cum into him.



     The die was cast. Joe now had a female element in his mind

that his will could not control. Never would he turn away from a

session with a stiff prick. Joe collapsed into a limp bundle and as

Monica withdrew her spent cock, he curled up; tired and worn out.

"Just like a man." Thought Monica. "After sex, all they want to do

is roll over and go to sleep. Well he'll learn a hard lesson

shortly."



     Joe was startled out of his daze by the awareness that

Monica's cock was pressing against his ass hole. He clenched it

tight, but Monica pushed harder and the shaft, still lubricated

with his pussy juice, was finally forced past his sphincter and

driven into his lovely behind. Joe felt himself become aroused

again, as the she-male's balls slapped against his butt. It was

very unconventional, but for some reason he desired it. 



     Powerless as the stimulation overcame his reason, Joe put one

hand between his legs and played with his pussy. Finally, Joe

orgasmed again, then Monica did and withdrew her cock from his ass.

Dr. van Damme raised her glass in a toast. "To the new Joseph

Watson. I gave him the body of an exaggeratedly voluptuous woman,

while you provided the appetites and impulses of a horny slut."



     They sipped their champagne.



     "Not only that," said Dave. "But Joe cannot fathom what's

going on with his body, he cannot exert any conscious control over

it's conditioned behavior. Joe definitely won't want to be involved

all the proceedings that he will be, but as far as his body is

concerned, his conscious mind is a passive spectator, no matter how

degrading a performance it puts on. Joe is trapped in an endless

loop; his mind rebels while his body compels.



To be continued...

--