Archive-name: Changes/joe5.txt

Archive-author: Ruth White

Archive-title: Guinea Pig, The - 23-27





        Part 5 of the continuing adventures of Joe Watson



                             CHAPTER

                               23



     Joe awakened the next morning to find himself naked, wrapped

up in satin sheets, and Monica gone. He drew a hot bath. Relaxing

in it, he decided that the time had come to investigate the extent

of the modifications between his legs. Joe probed the outside then

spread the lips open and slowly inserted a finger, being careful

because of it's long nail. It felt like a pussy to his experienced

hands.





     Joe got up, reached over and grabbed a hand mirror. Perched on

the edge of the tub he spread his legs wide, holding the mirror in

his left hand so he could observe as he explored with his right.

Joe stretched his labia open and considered the revealed cavity. It

looked exactly like a cunt to him, but what was that sensation he'd

felt, like his cock getting hard. 



     Exploring the interior, Joe discovered the bump of flesh which

now contained his penile nerve endings. Staring at it, he touched

it and felt his body respond. The reality of his situation slowly

dawned on Joe; there would be no more hard-ons for him. He had an

honest to goodness clit inside him. 



     With finality, and only slight consternation, Joe accepted the

results of his self-conducted examination; he was unequivocally a

female down there where it counted. It now became imperative that

he preserve the remaining fragments of the real Joe Watson, even if

they existed only in his mind.



     Not knowing what to do next, Joe dried himself, wrapped a robe

around his body, and sat on the chaise lounge leafing through

magazines. He was interrupted by the appearance of a grand-motherly

matron. "Good morning. You must be Joseph. I am Mrs. Maxwell and I

understand that we have our work cut out for us." 





                             CHAPTER

                               24



     Joe brushed out his hair and applied some hair spray to hold

the curls. He was glad his tutelage under Mrs. Maxwell had ended

yesterday. 

 

     A month of intensive training, in what Mrs. Maxwell called

"The Womanly Arts", under her constant supervision, had taken it's

toll. Joe's manners were charming, and his deportment was now

graceful and ladylike. 

 

     Once, when Joe asked Mrs. Maxwell why was he being coached in

the use of cosmetics when his were permanent and unalterable, she

just shushed him, saying he might someday be interested in becoming

a beautician or a cosmetics salesperson. This lifted Joe's spirits

as it signified that he might yet get free of this island.



     Joe dressed himself. As far as he was concerned, this was the

best result of his sessions with Mrs. Maxwell; he'd been given some

ordinary clothes, ordinary for a girl that is, in addition to the

tight, revealing, and provocative outfits he'd been attired in

previously. 



     The transvestite in Joe still took pleasure in wearing the

extreme fashions, but he looked upon his new clothes as normal. It

was a testimony to Dave Weinstein's program, that Joe now dressed

in regular woman's clothing with total acceptance and without the

slightest hint of embarrassment.



     Joe selected his lingerie for the day from the vast assortment

in his bureau. Stepping into some white nylon briefs, he pulled

them up; they were a perfect fit. Joe liked the feel, especially

the cotton lined crotch panel which softly covered his sensitive

vagina. Joe hooked up his bra and positioned his breasts in the

nylon cups, before pulling it up. It was an underwire, with lace on

the cups, wide stretch straps, was comfortable to wear, offered

plenty of support, and nothing showed through. Joe put on some nude

ultra-sheer pantyhose, then a full slip of white nylon with an

embroidered bodice edged with lace and a lace trimmed hemline. Joe

was very grateful that he was no longer being forced to dress like

a slut.

     

     Going to his closet Joe picked out a blue linen short-sleeved

coat-dress. slipping it on like a jacket and buttoning the double-

breasted front. It was very comfortable to wear and downplayed his

outrageous curves. Joe then slipped on a pair of low-heeled, well

two inches seemed low to him now, navy pumps and was dressed. 



     Joe sprayed himself with his perfume and picked out some

accessories as Mrs. Maxwell had taught him to coordinate; a ring,

a watch, the gold locket with his picture in it as a man, a leather

handbag to match his pumps, no earrings other than the permanent

gold balls, and as a finishing touch, he folded and stuffed a red

silk handkerchief into the breast pocket of his dress. Thus

attired, and feeling no more self-conscious than he would have in

a suit and tie over a year ago, Joe went to breakfast and his

subsequent appointment with Dr. van Damme.



     Joe entered Dr. van Damme's office. 



     "Won't you sit down Mr. Watson?" said Dr. van Damme.



     Joe sat in indicated chair, smoothing his dress under him, as

he'd been trained.



     Dr. van Damme looked at the changed man in front of her,

sitting primly with his nylon covered knees together and his hands

folded over his purse in his lap. There was absolutely no evidence

of the old Joe Watson in the sweet young thing before her. "It

appears Mr. Watson that I have executed the terms of my contract

with your wife. The only unanswered question is what do I do with

you now?"



     Joe remained silent. 



     It was crucial to the plan, that Dr. van Damme get Joe to

approve of his future circumstances, he would then cooperate

voluntarily, at least at first, afterwards was of no consequence.



     "Let's review your situation. We can return you to the United

States, but what will you do? You can't return to being Joseph

Watson, you don't look like him, you don't talk like him, your

fingerprints are different, and you will even find that you can't

remember crucial information like your social security number."



     Joe tried to recall his social security number, he knew he had

one but it seemed to be just out of reach. Joe got scared. What

else had they removed from his memory?



     "Do you have any skills to support yourself?"



     Joe shook his head no.        



     "Well then, I know, that with a body like yours, there's one

way you can earn a living."



     Joe was almost crying now. He knew that it was unavoidable

that this subject would come up. Regardless of what they'd done to

his body, he couldn't, he wouldn't, make love to a man. He was no

faggot. Joe's subconscious had managed to obscure his little

episode with Monica, that was somehow something else, and he had no

inkling of the cravings implanted in his mind, which had yet to

reveal themselves.  



     Dr. van Damme spoke. "The only thing that bothers me is the

fact that your wife's contract didn't reimburse us for your

clothing and jewelry."



     Joe saw a glimmer of hope. Perhaps he could avoid the street

after all. "Uh, Doctor. Maybe I could stay here and work for you,

at least until you've recovered your money?"



     "I don't think so Mr. Watson. What can you do?"



     Joe was crying like a little girl now. "I could learn. I

promise I'd work very hard. Please?"



     "I bet you will," thought Dr. van Damme. 



     "I just don't know Mr. Watson. Our employment policy here is

a bit unorthodox, as I'm sure you might have guessed." After a

short pause she continued. "Well, against my better judgement, see

Clarice, my secretary,and she'll draw up the necessary paperwork.



     Joe read through the contract. He wasn't sure he liked it but

what choice did he have? It was a lifetime contract, cancelable at

will on the Institute's part but he'd have to buy his way out of it

for fifty-thousand dollars. In it he agreed to perform any and all

tasks as might be assigned, accept such punishments as might be

specified for infractions of Institute regulations, including such

offenses as disrespect, and the contract was transferable on the

part of the Institute. In return, he was guaranteed food, shelter,

uniforms, medical care, and a cash stipend, the amount to be

determined by a profit sharing plan, for the rest of his life, and

when he was no longer able to work, the Institute would care for

him until he died.  Joe signed it, breathing a sigh of relief at

avoiding the likelihood of returning home with no prospects except

as a prostitute, or mistress to a wealthy man, knowing from his own

experience what those vocations entailed.   



     That night, in bed, Joe relaxed, watching soap operas on

television. He'd become quite a fan of them by now and couldn't

understand why he hadn't discovered them before now. Joe watched as

a glamorous actress deep kissed the leading man. "Man she's built,"

he thought. 



     Joe felt his nipples harden, unaware that his subconscious was

being turned on by the actor in the scene. Remembering the pleasure

he used to get from masturbating, Joe brought his hands up and

started fondling his breasts through the thin satin nightgown. It

was as stimulating as ever before, maybe even more so. Joe felt the

sensation of heat between his legs. Remembering how it felt when

Monica sucked his teats, Joe dropped the top of his nightie off of

his shoulders and grabbed his right breast. He pulled it up and

leaned his head over; yes, he could reach it. 



     With growing anticipation, Joe stuck his tongue out and

touched his nipple. It felt wonderful. He lifted the breast further

and sucked it into his mouth. After awhile he swapped breasts and

sucked on the other one, in ecstasy as he rolled the nipple between

his teeth. Joe's crotch felt like it was on fire now, and he had

that sensation of a hard on again. Holding his left breast to his

mouth with his left hand, Joe snuck his right hand under the

elastic waistband of his panties and inserted three fingers into

his pussy, surprised to find it wet. 



     Locating the protuberance that served him as a clit, he found

it pulsing with desire and stroked it with his middle finger,

sucking his teat, until he climaxed. "Wow. Was that intense."

Thought Joe, rearranging his nightgown.   





                             CHAPTER

                               25

     "Wake up sweetie it's time to get to work."



     "What the ... " said Joe half-asleep.



     "I was told that you're the new trainee Joe Watson. Is that

right?"



     "Uh, yeah."



     "Well come on, we don't have all day."



     Remembering what he'd got himself into the day before, Joe

struggled out of bed and went to wash up. He came out to find a

pile of clothing on the bed.



     "Don't just look at it, put your uniform on."



     Given a pair of plain white cotton panties, Joe put them on.

He picked up a bra unlike any he'd encountered before; it seemed to

be made of a heavy latex material and the thick nylon cups seemed

to small for his cumbersome breasts. 



     "What do I do with this?" Joe asked.



     "Put it on silly. Oh, ... I forgot your new to this. It's what

we girls call a minimizer. It reduces the size of your boobs so you

can fit in your uniform without looking like a tramp."



     With some effort Joe got it in place. It was really tight and

compressed his breasts, but they did appear smaller. The next

garment stunned Joe; a latex girdle.



     "Come on! Get in it. The clock is ticking."



     Joe finally got it up over his hips. He didn't see how he

could wear it for another ten minutes it was so tight.



     "Are you sure this is the right size?"



     "Yes, of course it is. It has to be tight, we don't want you

parading your teats and ass around distracting all the men."



     Joe discovered the girl's name was Donna, and under her

direction he put on a pair of white support stockings, attaching

them to the garters of his girdle, then a plain white cotton slip,

a pair of low wedge-heeled white slip-ons, just barely high enough

to keep his feet from hurting, and gathered his hair up under a

hair net. Joe zipped up the back of the white nylon dress which

completed his uniform. He was allowed no perfume and no jewelry

except a watch and the ever present gold balls in his earlobes. A

little tag was pinned over his left breast, it read;

                          JOSEPH WATSON

                        Housekeeping staff

     Thus attired, Joe went off to the first day of his new job.

                                



                             CHAPTER

                               26

               The last eight weeks had been a blur to Joe. he'd

worked at one position after another; as soon as he had mastered

one task, they switched him to another. He'd started at clearing

tables in the cafeteria. Next came washing dishes, the serving

line, food preparation, the laundry, and house cleaning including

washing and waxing floors. With so much at stake, Joe really

exerted himself. Just as Dave Weinstein had predicted. As a result,

most nights he was so tired he just fell into bed, other nights he

played with his pussy and boobs before going to sleep.



     This job wasn't so bad; working in the executive dining room.

Joe's uniform was almost same, the dress was black polyester and he

wore a lacy little white apron over it, and he'd gotten used to the

minimizer bra and tight girdles he had to wear.



     Joe saw Monica come in accompanied by Dave Weinstein. It had

been a long time since he'd seen her. Since that night she'd ...

Joe was still very much attracted to the pretty boy-girl. He walked

up to her.



     "Hi Monica."



     Monica had just recovered from her latest ordeal and wasn't 

too quick on the uptake. She turned to look at the girl addressing

her; she looked familiar. Then she saw the name tag:

                          JOSEPH WATSON

                            Waitress 



     "Hi Joe. How do you like your new job?"



     "Fine I guess. I haven't seen you for a long time. How are you

doing."



     "Better than could be expected." 



     Monica felt sorry for what she'd helped to do to the poor

man. "Say Joe, let's get together tonight. Why don't you come over

to my room about eight?"



     Joe felt a shiver go through his body. "Sure I'd love to."



     "Say Joe. Wear something sexy. We'll go out."



     Joe was very excited as he prepared for his date with Monica

and spraying on his perfume, after his bath, only increased the

effect. He slipped on a white lace bikini and went to the closet to

select his outfit for the evening.



     "Hmmm. She said sexy ... this ought to do it."



     Joe decided to do without hose and stepped into the dress he'd

picked out. It was really something; sleeveless with a sort of a

turtleneck. The turtleneck was made of a white stretchy bubble

textured material as were other parts of the dress. Joe buttoned

the neck closed. 



     "This is almost too much." Joe thought.



     Indeed it was. From the turtleneck collar down was sheer lace

which descended in a V shape to his belly button. The white bubbly

spandex was lined with soft satin, which felt nice, but barely

covered Joe's nipples. 





     Joe's breasts were loose and, except for the nipples and outer

sides, were entirely visible through the lace insert. The dress

fell to Joe's upper thigh, hugging every curve of his voluptuous

body. The back was open beneath the collar and Joe could feel his

hair on his back. Hr turned around in front of the mirror. "Wow!"



     The back opening also descended in a V, with no lace insert,

to down over the crack of his ass! Joe looked at the cleavage

formed by his derriere and debated wearing something else. There

was little room to maneuver in this dress; if he pulled it up to

cover his ass, his pussy would be exposed. 



     The longer Joe stared at his image though, the more he got

turned on, finally he said, "Fuck it." He slipped his tiny feet

into white pumps with extremely high heels, added a bracelet, and

was off.



     Joe knocked on Monica's door.



     "Come in."



     Joe entered, surprised to see Monica still wearing the shirt-

dress she'd had on earlier. 



     "You're a bit early Joe."



     Joe glanced at her clock. It was only seven o'clock. He'd been

so excited that he never even considered the time.



     "Why don't you sit down and make yourself at home while I get

ready."



     Joe sat down and picked up a magazine, trying not to stare at

Monica as she undressed. Monica shed her dress and slip, went into

the bathroom, and Joe heard the shower running. 

Monica came out with a robe on.



     "You know Joe, I have a dress just like yours in black. Maybe

we should dress in contrast."



     "That would be nice," he said.



     Monica got a pair of tiny black lace bikini panties out of her

dresser and as she removed her robe to begin dressing, Joe snuck a

peek at the she-male's body he desired so much.



     "Monica!" He cried. "What happened?"



     Between Monica's thighs was not the long cock that Joe's

subconscious secretly wanted, but a patch of blonde pubic hair

ending in cunt lips.



     "Did that crazy Doctor get you too?" 





     Joe was almost crying now, probably more from disappointment

than in sympathy with Monica.



     Monica came over and hugged Joe as he trembled.



     "No, no Joe. It wasn't like that at all. You see I've been

pursuing this for as long as I can remember, that's why I was so

happy when your operation was a success. It meant my long wait was

over. Now you know where I've been."



     "Don't cry for me Joe, I'm really happy this way."



     The gorgeous transsexuals hugged each other. They were kindred

souls; manmade women, but one had sought it and the other fought

it.



     Two tall blondes bounced down the path on their way to the

island's nightclub. Joe hadn't wanted to go, he'd had in mind a

quiet evening alone with Monica, but Monica wouldn't hear of it.



     Inside the crowded club they took a table alone, and were

instantly besieged with offers of drinks and dances. Monica, having

had experience in these situations, got rid of their admirers.



     "I'll get us some drinks Joe."



     Monica went to the bar. "I'll have a gin and tonic and a

'special'."



     At the table Monica and Joe sipped their drinks and talked

quietly.  After the second round Monica could see that the special

was having it's desired effect. Joe was talking louder and slurring

his speech. Monica felt guilty about her part in Joe's 'treatment'

and had resolved to make it up to the poor man; she'd teach him to

enjoy his womanhood. "Let's dance Joe."



     "Uh, I don't think so Monica."



     "Oh come on" she said, pulling him to his high heeled feet.

     With his reasoning ability seriously impaired and his

inhibitions waning, Joe followed her onto the small dance floor. A

fast disco number was blaring and they started to shake. Every male

eye in the house was on the two babes mixing it up alone on the

dance floor, their tits and asses seeming to be everywhere.

     The music stopped, and Joe stood there with Monica, his

exertions having served only to carry more alcohol through his

system. A slow number started.



     "May I have this dance madame." Asked Joe. 



     Acting silly. He took Monica and started to lead her in a slow

dance, only to have her pulled from his grasp. 





     "Mind if I cut in?"



     Before Joe's dulled senses could react, Monica was dancing

away in the arms of a stranger. Joe turned to walk back to the

table, only to find himself confronted by a tall handsome man.

Without a word the man pulled Joe close and started to dance with

him.



     "Gentlemen can't sit by and force two good looking gals like

you and your friend there to dance alone."



     Joe was speechless. He didn't know what to do.



     "My name's Bill Larson. What's yours?"



     Terrified, Joe said nothing.



     "The quiet type, hey. I like that."



     They danced on and when it was over, Bill followed Joe back to

the table where Monica was sitting with the other man. Monica

introduced Joe to him.



     "Sam this is my very good friend Joe Watson. Joe this is Sam

Bennet"



     Joe was mortified. What if they discovered he was really a

man? But Sam just took his hand.



     "My pleasure Jo."



     "Will you guys join us?" asked Monica.



     "You couldn't keep us away."



     Joe had another drink. Later, he found himself on the dance

floor in Bill's arm's again. Bill pulled him close and Joe felt his

nipples rubbing against the man's chest through the satin lining of

his dress, slowly becoming aroused. 

     Bill placed his hand on Joe's ass. Joe knew he should leave or

at least say something, but with no experience in dealing with a

situation like this, he kept his mouth shut. Joe thought he smelled

something familiar about Bill but couldn't quite place it.



     "Must be the cologne." Joe thought. "Maybe it's one I used to

wear."



     Bill's pheromones continued to work on Joe, who found himself

relaxing in the tall man's arm's, getting more and more turned on.

Joe wanted to go back to his room so he could play with his titties

and masturbate. 



     When the dance was over, Bill pulled Joe tight and kissed him.



     "NO!" Screamed Joe's mind, but his mouth opened wide, to

receive the man's probing tongue. Joe was paralyzed, he couldn't

unwrap his arms from around Bill. Bill's tongue located his and Joe

found himself playing with it, sucking on it. Then he felt Bill's

right hand on his breast.     



     Monica watched Bill and Joe swap spit on the dance floor, and

saw Bill cop a feel with no resistance. She smiled.



     "Well, he's on his way."



     Joe and Bill made small talk as Bill ran his hand up and down

Joe's smooth shapely leg.



     "What is it about this guy that's so fascinating," thought

Joe.



     Joe was really aroused now, he knew he should leave, but he

couldn't bring himself to do so. He found himself staring into deep

brown eyes, thinking how good-looking Bill was. "What's going on

with me?" Joe thought. 



     Joe traced his long fingernails along Bill's forearm, playing

with the wiry hairs. Finally he got it out.



     "Bill, I really hate to say goodnight, but I have to work

tomorrow, and it's time I was getting home."



     Bill would not be deterred from walking Joe to his room. When

the door was open, Joe turned to say goodnight and found himself

transfixed by those brown eyes. Bill pulled Joe close and kissed

him. Joe could feel Bill's hard cock pressing against his abdomen.

His pussy was melting.



     "Please Jo. Can I come in? Just for a minute?"



     Joe wanted to say," Just a minute my ass. I know your type. I

used to be one." but instead, to his horror, he heard himself

whisper sweetly.

     "Yes." 



     They were kissing in his room now and Joe found himself

unbuttoning Bill's shirt. 



     "What's that smell?" Joe thought as he put his face to Bill's

chest. Joe ran his long fingernails through Bill's chest hairs,

remembering how his used to look, before they'd been replaced with

boobs. 



     Bill, meanwhile, had found and undone the buttons of Joe's

turtle neck and pulled the top of his dress down to his waist. Bill

stared at the magnificent tits revealed before him. He put his

mouth to one and started sucking and nibbling on it. Joe was going

crazy. Part of him cried out to stop this and get away, while

another part of him loved it. The latter prevailed.



     On the bed now, Bill ran his hands up Joe's thighs, and Joe's

legs parted to admit him. Bill fondled Joe's cunt through his

panties; they were wet."Wow is this one ever hot!" Bill thought.



     Joe felt Bill's hand fondling his cunt and reality seemed to

recede. Joe's hand brushed against Bill's cock and he knew what he

had to do. Pushing the man off of him, Joe sat up and started

undoing Bill's belt and trousers."No, no, no. Please don't do

this."  Joe implored himself. 



     Bill's cock stood proudly before his face. Joe took the hard

cock between his bright red lips. He'd never had a queer thought

before, so why now this, all of a sudden? Joe found himself with

Bill's cock all the way down his throat. It felt so good. Joe's

nose was buried in Bill's pubic hairs and he loved the smell.



     Bill pushed Joe's head away, then picked him up and turned him

around, facing away. The skirt of Joe's dress was up around his

waist by now. Bill grabbed the tiny bikini and pulled it down. Joe

felt Bill's hand playing with his pussy, then Bill's hands were on

his hips as he entered Joe from behind; doggie style. 



     Joe felt the thick cock sliding in and out of his pussy. Into

the spirit of it now, Joe raised his butt high and ground his cunt

up against Bill when he pushed in. Bill pushed his swollen cock in

as deep and as hard as he could.



     Suddenly, Bill came, filling Joe's hot pussy with come.



     "What the fuck?" thought Joe. "I haven't come yet."



     Bill pulled out and lay back on the bed.



     "Wow Jo. You sure are great in bed."



     Joe was still highly aroused and disappointed as he climbed

around to face Bill. Joe was going to berate him when he felt

another craving take control. "Good God no!" he thought, but there

was no stopping it. 



     Joe found himself hungrily licking Bill's cum off of his spent

cock. He relished it, not having tasted any for so long. When it

was clean Joe lay back,as the inebriated Bill dozed off. Still

unsatisfied, part his mind thought, "Next time get two, and make

sure they're sober."  



     Where were these thoughts coming from? Joe didn't worry for

long. He started playing with his titties, arousing himself again

in preparation for masturbation. Putting his hand to his cunt, he

felt the wetness in it, and without thinking, brought his hand to

his lips and started licking off the mixture of Bill's cum and his

pussy juice. 



                             CHAPTER

                               27



     Joe walked back to his room from work. He had gotten pretty

good at being a waitress now and was proud that he'd been selected

"Waitress of the Month", after only two months on the job.



     Joe's big thrill now was going home after work, getting

dressed up in some sexy clothes, and watching television as he

played with his boobs and pussy. Changing out of his uniform, Joe

considered doing something different tonight; a couple of the

groundskeepers had challenged him to play pool, after he'd

commented on their play this afternoon. Joe had been quite a

hustler in his college days, and he thought about how much money he

could take these guys for. 



     Joe's ass was up on the corner of the pool table. He had on

only his garter belt, stockings, and high heels. 



     "How do I keep winding up like this?" he asked himself.



     Ramon was pounding away, with his huge cock deep in Joe's

tight snatch and Joe, laying down along the rail, held Dwayne's

long black cock firmly between his tattooed lips as it moved in and

out of his gullet, tickling his tonsils.



     Gloria Watson sat in Dr. van Damme's office, watching as her

ex-husband was well and truly fucked. When the two gardeners were

done with him, she saw Joe get up and get dressed, semen dripping

from every orifice in his body.



     "Well I would never have believed it if I hadn't seen his

progression with my own eyes. I must say I doubted you, but you

really did turn him into a cock-sucking bitch."  



     "Our goal is customer satisfaction," said Dr. van Damme, "and

Joe's has been working very hard to learn his new housekeeping

skills. It won't be long before he's ready."

     "Outstanding," said Gloria Watson, "Good domestic help is so

hard to find these days."



     "Is there anything else I can do for you Mrs. Watson?"



     "Well Justine, I have a problem appearing on the horizon. In

three years Joe's son, Robert, turns twenty-one and can claim his

inheritance.  He is just like his father and I am afraid that it is

his intention to destroy me financially and socially and see to it

that I am left destitute. I was wondering ... is there any way ...

would it be possible ... you know what I mean, to somehow prevent

this sad state of affairs from occurring?" 



     Dr. van Damme smiled. "Anything's possible."



     Dr. van Damme spoke into her intercom. "Clarice. Bring in a

blank contract form please."



                              THE END



Or is it?



Sounds like those two have something in mind for dear Bob.

        I invite you to find out what in the sequel:





                            Bob Gets His

--