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Archive-name: Changes/josie.txt

Archive-author: Ruth White

Archive-title: Guinea Pig, The  (1-22)



It wasn't that long ago that Gloria Watson had been using

drugs uncontrollably and, out of despair, attempted suicide. Now

her rehabilitation was almost complete. All that remained was a

departure interview with the director of The Institute, the

facility which had saved her life and restored her to sanity.

Gloria knew Dr. van Damme by reputation only and did not know what to

expect as she entered her office.

Dr. van Damme rose to greet Gloria. Gloria tried not to gawk.

She had known that the doctor was a woman, but that she was as

strikingly beautiful as she turned out to be. She was tall, blonde,

and dressed all in white; suit, blouse, hose, and pumps. A small name

tag pinned to her jacket said "von Damme". She wore little make-up and

her hair was gathered up in roll on her head.

"Hello Gloria. It's a pleasure to meet you at last," said Dr.

van Damme extending her hand. "I'm glad your recovery went so


Gloria took the proffered hand, shook it, and the two women

sat down on the couch where Dr. van Damme opened the conversation.

"Gloria, I want you to tell me in your own words what happened to you.

How you wound up here, and how your experience here will enable you to

function in the real world again."

"Well, Doctor."

"Please, Gloria, call me Justine."

"My troubles  started after I married my ex-husband, Joseph Watson. He

was  everything   any  girl  could  ask  for.  Fantastically  wealthy,

handsome, and  sexually insatiable.  He was  thirty and  I was twenty.

Being young  and coming from a lower middle-class family, I was in awe

of him  and his wealth. I always felt inadequate around Joe and he did

everything he could to reinforce my perception. What did the marriage,

and me in, was his continual betrayal of me. Joe just could not resist

bedding any  blonde with  a big  chest. I'm sure you've noticed that I

conform to  his ideal.  I later  learned that he has always behaved in

this manner, why he even has a son who is almost my age; he got a girl

pregnant when he was only twelve!"

"After a year of my trying to get him to settle down, he divorced me.

I blamed myself and my shortcomings for this. He provided me an

extravagant settlement and I tried to loose myself in drugs and

alcohol. When that didn't work I tried to kill myself. A friend

shipped me here to your clinic for treatment and to avoid any scandals

in the tabloids."

Dr. van Damme poured out coffee for them. "And what have you

learned from your treatment here?"

"Well, I don't blame myself anymore. None of what happened was my

fault; it all lies with that son of a bitch. I really believe he

wanted to make it with all those women because he's really insecure

about himself. Take his height for example, Joe is only five foot

seven but always wanted to be six feet tall. I don't feel ashamed

and guilty any more. I'm mad as hell and I want to get back at him

for ruining my life and almost causing my death."

"Gloria. Surely you don't mean that."

"I certainly do Justine. I don't know yet what I will do to get even

with him, but I will spend the rest of my life trying, if that's what

it takes."

"You certainly seem determined Gloria. Perhaps we can find a way for

my organization to help."

"But Doctor, I have no more money. I'm broke."

"You needn't worry about that Gloria. Anything's possible."

Dr. van Damme produced a file. "We investigated your husband during

your stay to see if the things you told your therapist were delusions

or reality. It makes very interesting reading. He's certainly

deserving of some severe punishment, and I think it would be even more

fitting if he paid for it himself. I'm sure we can work something


"Oh Justine, could you? Would you?  Joe Watson is a powerful

and wealthy man, are you sure you want to get involved?"

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

blank contract form please."  Then continued, "Gloria I fear no man

like Joe Watson. My organization operates in many areas, and as a

result, has made numerous friends of real influence and power. Joe

Watson can't hurt me, he can't even find me if I don't want him to.

Besides I've taken down bigger than him before. Now shall we

discuss specifics?"



Joe Watson followed the girl into her hotel suite. Congratulating him-

self silently, he thought, "man, what a fox. She's so hot, and I'm

just the guy to give it to her."

Joe had been captivated by her since he spotted her in his customary

pick up joint. She was all tits and ass and paraded them proudly. His

cock was as hard enough to drive nails and he couldn't wait to ram it

in her.

"Want a drink Joe?" She called from the other room.

"Sure, eh..." He couldn't remember her name. "Make it Scotch and


Joe and his date sat on the couch and sipped their drinks. He wanted

only to rip her dress off and go at it then and there. He played it

cool though, thinking he might be able to enjoy this one for more than

one night.

"Tell you what Joe, why don't I go slip into something more


She left the room and Joe thought, "Hot damn. Here we go," and downed

the rest of his drink in one gulp.

When Joe's date returned she was wearing something more  comfortable;

a sweatshirt, jeans, and tennis shoes. Joe didn't seem surprised. In

fact, he didn't even notice. The girl eyed his inert form on the couch

for a moment, then dialed the number she had been given. "He's good to

go. Come and get him."

She retrieved her bag and belongings and after making sure that the

door was unlocked she departed, leaving Joe to his fate.



"You can open your eyes anytime now Mr. Watson. We know you're awake."

"I was just trying to collect myself and remember what happened," said


Opening his eyes he saw an older man wearing a white coat and carrying

a stethoscope. Glancing about he noticed he was restrained in what

appeared to be hospital bed. Furthermore, he saw wires leading from

his bed to a bank of monitors that were meaningless to him."

"What happened? I have a heart attack or something."

"No. Nothing that simple I'm afraid." Let me get the director to

explain the situation to you.

Several minutes later Joe looked up as a pretty blonde entered the

room. "Mr. Watson, welcome back to the world of the living. My name is

Dr. van Damme and I'm sure you have many questions..."

"You bet I do babe. What happened, where am I, and  when can I leave."

Joe interrupted.

"To answer your questions in order. You were drugged; slipped a mickey

I think the vernacular is. You are on my private island, far removed

from the United States, and I don't know when, if ever, you can return

there. Does that satisfy your curiosity?"

"What the fuck is going on here? Who the hell do you think you are?"

Joe exploded.

His answer was a slap from Dr. van Damme that rocked his still woozy


"I'll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head. The story your

associates will put out is this; as a result of your notorious

womanizing, you have contracted AIDS. You have secreted yourself at

a private clinic outside the United States to undergo experimental

therapy, much as a famous actor did not to long ago. Eventually you

will succumb to your illness and your remains will be cremated.

After that, it won't be long before the world forgets that Joseph

Watson ever existed."

"How could this be happening to me?" Joe wondered. "Who put you up to

this?" He demanded to know.

"The answer, Mr. Watson, is that you did. The way you treated your ex-

wife, and the way you've treated women all your life, caught my

attention. That, and the fact that you were vulnerable."

"That goddamned bitch Gloria. Figure her to get mixed up in something

like this." Joe thought for a minute. "What do you mean vulnerable?"

"You were such a disagreeable person that no one cared for you. We

were able to influence every individual who might be concerned over

your absence. They all sold you out. You were a failure as a person

Mr. Watson. That and your miserly penny pinching did you in."

"What are you talking about?"

"You were too cheap to keep a good law firm on retainer. I'm sure if

you had, that they would have advised you to change your will

immediately after your divorce. As it was, you didn't, and have

created all manner of potential difficulties for yourself. Such as the

one you're in right now."

"Let me go. Look, whatever she's paying you I'll double it, no

wait...,  I'll triple it."

"Lets understand one thing Mr. Watson. Your wife didn't put us

up to this. We put her up to it."

"So what's going to happen?"

"When you die, your wife will become executrix and administrate of

your estate, at least until your son becomes twenty-one. She's going

to pay us for our 'treatment' of you and a good portion of the fees

will be rebated to her via overseas bank accounts."

"And how much is this treatment of mine going to run." Inquired Joe.

"About five million dollars to start, but that's just the beginning.

The Institute provides many services; psychological, surgical,

behavior modification, anti-aging, and infertility just to name a few.

Many of these treatments are unsanctioned in the industrialized

countries, such as injecting fetal cells to reverse the aging process.

Our many affluent clients come here, where any treatment they desire

can be provided. Whether or not their nation's medical authorities

consider them effective or ethical. Even so, these treatments have to

be tested somehow and that's where you come in. Your wife made you

available to us to perform research on as part of your punishment. In

addition to the base fee of five million, your wife guarantees us a

profit of thirty-five percent on all procedures performed on you."

"But what exactly is it you plan to do to me?

"The bad news, Mr. Watson, is that we are going to create a new you.

We will change both your appearance and your personality. The good

news is that you have shown a definite preference for the design we

are going to use."

At this point Dr. van Damme retired. Leaving Joe to contemplate her

cryptic announcement as he drifted off into unconsciousness.



Joe lay in his bed. He didn't want to get out of it. Even walking

across his small room to the toilet seemed to wear him out. He'd lost

all track of time and didn't know how long he had been here. Severe

diarrhea had afflicted him shortly after his arrival, he'd lost a lot

of weight, and was exceedingly thin. He still didn't feel quite right,

his skin was pasty white, he'd grown a beard, and his sex drive had

vanished. This last worried him most. Joe had always prided himself on

his virility. He couldn't even get a hard on to masturbate, no matter

how erotic his thoughts.

Joe's image was displayed on a video monitor in the conference room.

The doctor in charge of this phase of his treatment addressed the

audience in the room. "Treatment has proceeded along the determined

lines. The administered dosages of the prototype drug A6D have been

effective. Subject's testes are no longer producing sperm or male

hormones and are degenerating. There has been an ensuing loss of

interest in sex as a result.  Subject is, in effect, castrated. I

recommend that A6D be commercially developed and made available to

those governments that have expressed an interest in such a treatment

for chronic sex offenders."

"Thank you doctor," said Dr. van Damme. "Your work, as always, is

praiseworthy. Now our genetic engineering department will have the


A bearded young man, looking barely old enough to be a graduate

student, approached the podium. "As you all know we have conducted

extensive research into recombinant DNA theory. One of the easiest DNA

chains to manipulate is that of the bacteria, Escherichia coli, which

lives in the human digestive tract. A bacteriophage was introduced

into subjects diet which exterminated all E. coli resident in his

body. Subject then consumed foodstuffs containing our modified

species. It has thrived and far exceeded our expectations."

"This introduced species produces natural estrogenic compounds

as waste, which are then absorbed into the bloodstream through the

lining of the large intestine. Analysis shows that the subject's

hormonal balance is now that of a mature female. The only

difficulty is that it is slightly on the high side. That's not

really of any concern in this case, and we think we've found the

cause. We believe this treatment can be manipulated to do away with

the need for repeated dosages of almost any drug, not just

hormones. Early experiments show a potential for a bacteria that

can produce insulin. Furthermore, I personally feel this line of

research warrants additional inquiry as having the promise to

provide a reversible birth-control 'vaccine'."

Dr. van Damme led the room in a standing ovation for the researcher.

"Thank you very much. If I don't miss my guess, you may

have a Nobel Prize in your future."

Standing up, Dr. van Damme spoke into a small microphone. "You

may commence."

Then she addressed the assemblage. "Well, I'm sure we can all

agree that this subject is making an enormous contribution to

scientific and medical knowledge."

Ignoring the snickering that followed her remark, she continued. "Next

is a demonstration of a product that we hope will someday be in every

beauty salon in the world."

While she spoke, attendants had entered Joe's room and restrained him

to the bed. They were busily attaching connections between Joe's body

and a control board.

Dr. van Damme spoke. "As you know women employ many methods of

depilation.  Few opt for electrolysis due to the time, pain, and

expense. We hope this device will change all that. A process has

been developed which we call batch depilation. As you know, when a

person comes in contact with voltage, electrical current passes

through the body, more often than not producing death by

electrocution. An exception to this is electricity at high

frequencies, not the radio frequencies used for some electrolysis,

but rather four hundred cycles per second. This electricity passes

along the skin. What we do is pass high voltage four hundred hertz

power between  electrodes attached to the skin, after desensitizing

it.  Then, as the current flows, it burns out the hair follicles.

Let's watch a demonstration."

Speaking into her microphone, Dr. van Damme said "You may proceed with

the presentation now."

Joe didn't know what was going on. He offered no resistance,

lacking both the energy and the inclination  for such a move. His

skin had been coated with a slimy gel which tingled for a moment

then stopped. Metal bands had been fitted around his body at

various intervals from his feet, up his legs, around his waist,

chest, arms, and even his fingers. He was fitted with a collar and

then a cap, not unlike those used with the electric chair.

The technicians stepped back and threw a switch. There was a

humming sound and Joe felt the skin on his right calf tingle. After

a period it stopped, only to be repeated at another location on his

body. There was the odor of burned hair in the air. Finally, the

bands were removed and a mask was fitted over Joe's face and the

procedure was repeated there. The technicians removed all their

equipment. An aide came in and helped Joe to the bathtub.

Dr. van Damme changed the video pickup to the bathroom and she

and her staff observed as Joe was bathed. They watched with

fascination as the goo was scrubbed from Joe's body, for along with

it came his hair.

All of it!

"As you can see it is quite effective. We can choose the area

to be treated. The process is quick, cheap, and relatively

painless. You will notice that the subject now exhibits no hair

anywhere on his body except in the pubic region."

Joe was put back in bed and administered a sedative. Totally

hairless, and bald as a baby, he drifted off to a gentle sleep.



Joe lay face down on an operating table in an amphitheater. He

was anesthetized and could neither feel nor move. In his euphoric

state, he could not pay attention as the as the surgeon described

what was happening to him.

"Today I am using micro-miniature appliances, incorporating

fiber optics and lasers, to demonstrate some inspiring developments

in surgery."

"First, I am performing liposuction to effect body contouring.

As I am sure you are well aware, this is a high profit margin

business for us. However, I am going beyond conventional routine

here today. In order to create on the subject the smallest

waistline possible, as called for in the treatment protocol."

"Accordingly I have made a small incision at the spine where

the lowest set of ribs connect. I then insert a multiple lead fiber

optic cable to carry video, transmit laser energy, and control the

miniaturized equipment."

The surgeon accomplished this and went on."Now I simply cut

through each rib at the spine, severing them. I inject a

radioactive compound, with a short half-life, into the marrow to

kill it. Next I apply a sealant to the spine to prevent any attempt

at reattachment.The rest is simple. The bones die and gradually

become brittle. Subsequently, the subject is exposed to the ultra-

sound shock treatment used to break up kidney stones. This shatters

the now fragile bone, and the body assimilates the fragments as it

would any source of calcium." The surgeon finished up.

"Another advantage of this procedure is that there is no

scarring. Surgical adhesive is applied to the entry puncture, and

we are done." The surgeon departed with a smattering of applause

from the gallery.

Another surgeon  appeared in  greens. "Good  morning. I  am  going  to

continue the  physique contouring started by my esteemed colleague. As

you know  the subject  of weight  reduction is complicated by the fact

that once  formed by the body, fat cells are never destroyed. When the

body is  starved, as  when dieting,  they just  give up  their fat and

remain  where  they  are,  waiting  to  be  refilled.  Liposuction  as

performed earlier  does remove  these,  but  here  I  venture  a  step


The surgeon did something to Joe's hip.

"I separate the fat cells by centrifuging them, then filter

them to a uniform size with a permeable membrane. These cells are

collected in a tank and, using a process I call lipoaugmentation,

re-inserted into the body according to a computer generated matrix.

You now need only place the subject on a high fat diet. When the

fat cells refill, the body assumes the desired profile."

     "Notice that I have inserted a probe into the hipbone to

function as an dispenser. It serves as a reference point for the

matrix, and the re-introduced empty fat cells are deposited around

it automatically by the computer."

     Nothing more was said as the machines performed their work

with mechanical efficiency. The surgeon readjusted the probe to

several points on Joe's hips and buttocks. Eventually, everything

was removed.

     At this point two attendants came and rolled Joe over very

carefully. Joe stared up at the ceiling wondering what was going

on. He languished in daydreams, unable to focus on the activity

going on around him. He shut his eyes.

     The surgeon, meanwhile, had gone to work on Joe's chest. The

needle was inserted down the center of each nipple to the

breastbone. The surgeon took notice that they were not the typical

vestigial nipples of most males, but rather they exhibited the

developmental characteristics of a pubescent female. The machine

completed it's assignment and the next surgeon entered the

operating pit.



After countless days of suffering, Joe awoke in a sunny room.

He was agonizingly stiff, swollen, and sore. He couldn't find a

part of his body that didn't hurt. Dr. van Damme and several other

persons stood around looking at him. Joe tried to move and

discovered that his entire body was restrained.

"Well it looks like our surprise is ready to be unwrapped,"

said Dr. van Damme."

Joe's torso and legs were released. He discovered that his

hands were surrounded by some type of box, his feet were in casts,

and he had no feeling or freedom of movement in his extremities.

"Dr. Morgan would you describe for us please your modifications to the


An elderly doctor came forward. "Thank you Dr. van Damme. This

is a procedure we have been working on at the request of another

branch of our organization.  We have been able to alter the

subjects fingerprints."

The assembled onlookers showed great interest.

"Do go on Doctor."

"Well using computer controlled lasers at an oblique angle we

were able to eradicate the center of the original print. An

electron gun was used to, I guess burn would be the best term, a

pattern onto the finger. The resultant scarring is regulated, and

becomes indistinguishable from the loops and whorls of a natural

print. With a sufficiently sophisticated program you can not only

change someone's prints, but give him another person's."

Understanding the possibilities inherent in this, the crowd

murmured it's approval. Another doctor was working on releasing

Joe's feet from their confinement. At Dr. van Damme's cue he

explained what he had done.

"What you are looking at gentlemen represents a turning point

in reconstructive bone surgery. I have actually accomplished two

feats here, if you'll pardon the pun. I have taken the subjects

feet and rebuilt them to Dr. van Damme's specifications. What were

a man's size ten wide are now a perfect woman's size eight medium."

There was talking by his audience but no questions,so he

continued. "What is really interesting are the other adjustments I

was able to make. You know how we podiatrists tell the girls to

stay off of high heels. Slaves to fashion that they are, they never

listen to us and, as a result, suffer many foot ailments as a

result. It seems that the human foot was just not designed to walk

in high heels."

"Doctors, what I have done, is to devise and create such a

foot! I strengthened the weight bearing bones and made alignment

changes to the metatarsal bones. These feet could run a marathon in

spike heels."

The amazement of the group was apparent.

"And now last, but certainly not least, Dr. Brenner will enlighten us

as to his accomplishments."

"Thank you Dr. van Damme. I too work in reconstructive surgery. One

problem faced in severe damage to the hands and feet, is the permanent

loss of nail growth, which serves to protect the fingers and toes. Our

material department has been able to fabricate an acrylic polymer that

is indestructible by any means available to us here. What this means

is that we can formulate a replacement nail that will last forever."

The Doctor busied himself with the box which held Joe's left

hand. "You have to be very precise in your measurements with these

because once they set, that's it. These were modeled to Dr. van

Damme's specifications and have been anchored to the subjects

finger bones."

Looking at Joe, he giggled and said, "I would avoid countries

which practice torture if I were you, young man. I can guarantee

that your fingers will pull off before those nails do."

Still groggy, Joe just looked at him blankly. His hand was

freed from the box. Joe tried to move his fingers, but they were

too sore. He held his hand up to his face and gasped. At the end of

each finger was a long oval nail at least an inch long.


The doctor went on, "These nails will take some getting used

to and I must warn you to be careful until you are accustomed to

them. They could be dangerous."

Addressing Dr. van Damme he went on. " I believe you will find

that these nails will not chip and the colors will not fade."

Joe's other hand was freed and it joined it's mate. Joe

stared, in shock, at the long red talons, now permanently attached

to his fingers. The doctor released Joe's feet from their


"I also took the liberty of replacing the subjects toenails

while I was at it."

Joe struggled painfully to move to a position from which he

could see his feet. He was rewarded with the sight of ten cute

little red toenails peeking back at him. He noticed that his feet

were indeed much smaller and somehow more graceful. He moved them

and observed that they flexed in a peculiar manner.

Engrossed with his fingers, Joe failed to notice Dr. van Damme

motion everyone to leave. he looked up to find her alone with him.

"Please doctor. Tell me what's going on here. Why are these

things being done to me?"

"Because, Mr. Watson, you are at hand. We needed a test

subject and you're it. Also, as I once told you, we have contracted

with your wife to erase any trace of Joe Watson from the face of

the earth and dispense appropriate retribution in the process."

Joe wanted to learn more but she spun on her heels and walked




Two large attendants entered Joe's room. The larger of the two

men motioned for Joe to get up. "Come. Bath." He said.

Joe stared at him. "What."

Having been instructed in his native tongue to compel instant

obedience. The man slapped Joe's face so violently that Joe cried.

Having learned his first lesson, Joe painfully maneuvered his

body to where the attendants could help him out of bed and walk him

to the bathroom. He noticed that the bathroom was austere and

lacked a mirror.

While bathing under the observation of one of the attendants,

Joe noticed the curious lack of hair on his body. "Oh well. It'll

grow back," he thought.

After poking himself with his new fingernails a couple of

times, he learned to move slowly and carefully. He went to wash his

hair. "So they shaved my head too."

While washing his face he found out about his peculiar lack of

eyebrows. After he had dried off Joe was handed what looked like a

standard green hospital gown. It was different from the normal

hospital gown in two respects. It was made of silk instead of the

normal cotton, pulled over the head rather than tying up the back,

and fell to mid thigh.

Joe was able to return to bed unassisted.  Walking back, he

noticed unaccustomed pressure on his feet and tension in his calf


While Joe had been in the bath, the other attendant had been

making up his bed. Joe discovered that the new sheets and pillow

cases were slinky and slippery.

"Well I'll be," he thought. "Satin sheets. At least they go

first class here."

Joe began to relax. Now that feeling had returned to his body,

he took stock of himself. The stiffness and soreness had been

reduced by the hot bath. There was a odd itching sensation at

various points on his body. He probed his hips and buttocks were

the feeling was concentrated. Nothing seemed wrong. He scratched

his chest which also itched. He touched a nipple that was swollen

and sensitive. Pulling out the front of his gown he observed that

his nipples were enlarged. Further investigation disclosed the

presence of a hard lump in each breast.

"Probably a reaction to some new drug they're testing on me,"

thought Joe. "Just my luck, they're probably looking for a cure for

breast cancer."

One of the attendants returned with a food tray. After setting

a table in place over Joe's bed, he put the tray on it and left.

The smell of the food reminded Joe that he was ravenous. Opening

the plates he discovered an abundance of food. He found that he had

to adjust his handling of utensils to compensate for his long

fingernails. Still, he dug in with abandon. Pancakes with syrup,

eggs, bacon, milk, and orange juice. He ate it all and sated, Joe

relaxed and was soon asleep.

Dr. van Damme and Dave Weinstein, her behavior modification

specialist, watched the sleeping man on the monitor in her office.

"So, we are acclimating him to the feel of materials such as

silk and satin on his skin." Asked Dr. van Damme.

"Yes Doctor. The texture can sometimes produce a emotion of

resistance in a male. His subconscious knows that the cloth is

typical of female garb and objects because of the inconsistency

with his masculinity. By establishing the initial contact with such

textiles in a non-threatening environment, the male accepts their

presence and eventually regards them as normal."

"Thank you Dave. Keep me appraised of his progress."



Joe sat up in bed watching television. He was wearing an athletic

shirt and boxer shorts. So what if they were red and soft. Besides, it

was all they gave him.

Any woman, though, would have recognized what Joe was wearing;

a satin camisole and tap pants set. And they weren't red, they were

fuchsia. A distinction that Joe wasn't aware of, yet.

Joe finished his candy bar and drank the last of his soda,thinking,

"I shouldn't be eating all this junk food. I'll get fat."

Joe was getting fat, but that didn't bother him too deeply. What did

was the way it was being distributed around his body. He couldn't view

himself in a mirror, but he could comprehend that his ass was getting

fat and so were his hips. He couldn't see any increase in his

waistline though. Indeed, it seemed to be getting thinner, so he

didn't let it worry him.

Joe's nipples were another story, they had continued to swell. The

increase in their size was evident under his gown. The red areas

around the nipples had expanded to the size of a half-dollar while the

hard lumps on his chest had softened and were expanding.

Dr. van Damme entered the room on one of her infrequent visits. "And

how are we today Mr. Watson?"

"I, ... am fine."

"Excellent. Please be so good as to get out of bed."

Aware that his attendants were at most a call away, Joe hastened to do

her bidding.

"Get undressed and put these on." She directed.

Not daring to disobey, Joe doffed his clothing and took that which she

offered. "These" were a matching gown and robe. No pretense was

offered to disguise their feminine style. The gown was blue satin and

was edged in lace on the hem, and bodice. The robe matched the gown.

It tied at the waist and fell to his knees.

"We're going for a walk Joe."

"But, Doctor, I have had trouble walking ever since that

doctor worked on my feet."

At this Dr. van Damme produced two items. "Here. These should

help you walk easier."

Joe was speechless. she had given him two tiny high heeled shoes.

There wasn't much to them. Just a satin strap across the instep with

some fluff attached.

"They are called mules Joe. Sit down."

Joe sat and Dr. van Damme placed the mules on his feet. She was not

surprised to find them a perfect fit.

Joe noticed that his feet felt relaxed and natural in them. He

stood up. After an initial shakiness, he managed to walk around

fairly easily. "Wow. My feet feel so much better in these things."

"It seems Joe, that when the doctor modified your feet to accommodate

high heels, that he made it difficult, if not impossible, for you to

walk barefoot for any great distance or stand for any length of time.

Your feet now need the support these type of shoes provide so you'd

better get used to wearing them. Now follow me please."

As he walked Joe appreciated the way the shoes made his feet more

comfortable. In addition, due to his insecurity about his height, he

liked the fact that they made him taller.

"When I get out of here, I'm going to buy some elevator shoes," he


Joe followed the Doctor to an empty room where he was told to

strip and lay down on the bed. She returned and gave him a small

glass of a bitter clear liquid to drink. Joe immediately felt


"What happens now Doc? Gonna let me in on your big plan?"

"Yes, perhaps it is time Joe. You might recall that I said

that we were going to change your appearance and personality."

"Yes, I remember."

"Well we are using you as a test subject for many new drugs

and processes which will reduce suffering in many diverse groups of

people. You are, you might say, a human guinea pig. Unlike many

test animals though, when we are done with you, you will be well

taken care of for the rest of your life. Which, I might add, due to

the nature of some of the experiments may turn out to be abnormally


"In addition to those experiments, in order to fulfill our

contract with your wife, we have put many changes into effect on

your appearance and now we start on your personality."

Seeming to float above reality, Joe giggled. "So what exactly

is it you're changing me into?"

"That's the fun part Joe, and also your punishment. In the

past you have displayed an attraction for large breasted blonde

women that borders on compulsion. I believe, therefore, that you

will be pleased to know that you will soon be joining their ranks.

My only hope is that your new form will provide you with as much

enjoyment as those of your playmates did."

Finding this hilarious for some reason. Joe continued to

giggle as he drifted off into unconsciousness.



Joe's inanimate form lay on a platform surrounded by many

pieces of complex machinery. Countless wires ran from the apparatus

to points all over his body. His head from the throat up was

enclosed in a sealed container from which the top of his bald head

projected. Inside, Joe's unconscious eyes stared blankly into the


An incision was made around the crown of Joe's scalp, which

was then peeled back to reveal his skull. A precision micro-saw

then cut a circle through the bone. The bone was carefully removed

revealing Joe's brain. A team of surgeons spent some time

implanting a mesh of fine wires in Joe's cerebellum.

The leader explained their actions. "What we are doing here is

connecting the subject's brain for a function plot using resonance

mapping. An external impulse is applied to the body, or suggested

to the subconscious, the brain responds. This point is then plotted

on a three dimensional map, and stored in computer memory. This is

not new technology, it has existed for at least ten years. The

notable accomplishment here, is this; knowing where the function

signals the brain, we now can duplicate that signal directly to the

brain using a technique I call proto-resonance induction. What this

means is we can act directly on brain responses, both conscious and

unconscious. Leaving the conductive mesh under the skull will allow

for future alterations without surgery. The potential for treatment

of mental illnesses and obsessions such as drug or alcohol

addiction is unlimited."

"Is the subject ready?"

"Good. Let's proceed."

"To start the demonstration we will apply external stimulation

to the genitals."

After a short wait a green light came on.

"Good. We have that mapped. Now we apply external stimulation

to the subjects breasts."

When the light came on he continued. "Now while stimulating

the breasts we apply a signal to the area controlled by genital

stimulation. The result is that the subject now finds manual

stimulation of the breasts a sexually arousing experience."

"Now here is how I can influence behavior. The computer is

suggesting an embarrassing situation to the subconscious mind. It

is plotted and now the computer suggests a new experience."

He looked at some papers.

"Yes, this one is being seen bare-chested. While the allusion

is in the mind, the signal is sent to the embarrassment center of

the brain. The subject will now find the bare chest a source of

embarrassment. You can see how this can be used to substitute

desired behavior patterns for unwanted ones."

"To test the effectiveness of this process we will attempt to

affect other senses." The doctor pushed a button.

"What I have done is release into the subjects nostrils a

vapor containing an extract of the pheromone produced by a human

female in heat. Normally the conscious mind is unaware of the

presence of it. Ah yes, we have response."

The doctor pushed another button. "I have just released a

vapor containing the pheromones excreted by a sexually aroused

male. I apply the previous signal and, voila! I trust I do not have

to draw you a picture."

"I am doing nothing here to affect the subject's prior sexual

urges. Rather, you might say, we are expanding them. This machine

can be programmed to provide any number of effects and can be left

to run automatically. The response can be strengthened or weakened

by adjusting the signal strength. Hypnosis can further reinforce

any suggestions which may encounter resistance from the

subconscious. The machine will now finish the task. Any questions?"

There were none and the group left the room. The lights were

turned out leaving the blinking machines as the only source of


Inside the device, a picture of a naked giant breasted blonde,

in a suggestive pose, was displayed to Joe's unconscious mind. The

computer noted the strong response. A series of pictures of

handsome and virile young men were flashed at Joe's mind. Along

with each one went the feedback of the previously recorded signal.

Next a little cam whirled. Oxygen was routed to the tubes in

Joe's nostrils and he was influenced to breathe through his nose.

A probe was inserted into Joe's mouth while a low level signal was

sent to his pleasure center. Joe's subconscious recognized the

shape as that of an erect penis but the constant pleasure signal

overrode it's objection. The probe was pushed in and out,

eventually reaching deep into Joe's throat.

Previously recorded signals controlled Joe's responses. The

gag reflex was muted and his throat was compelled to produce a

swallowing motion. The pleasure signal increased in intensity. The

computer then released a measure of fluid which in consistency,

taste, and temperature duplicated that of semen. Some was

swallowed, some overflowed his mouth and ran over his face. Joe's

body, craving salt due to his diet, savored the fluid. Concurrently

the machine pulsed the strongest possible stimulation to Joe's

pleasure centers.

The machine ran through it's program, scattering cues and responses

throughout Joe's mind. While Joe slept he became a new

man. Only he didn't know it.



Joe came to in his bed. He was wearing a baby doll nightgown

and panties made of satin and lace. Recalling Dr. van Damme's

threat to turn him into a big boobed blonde, he stuck his hand

under the elastic of his panties.

"Yes sir, little buddies safe and sound," he thought. "So much for

that crazy doctor and her plan."

Joe's reverie was interrupted by the entrance of the most gorgeous

babe he had seen in awhile. Even in her starched nurses uniform, Joe

could make out the outline of her fantastic figure. Her long blonde

hair was pulled back into a pony tail. She was tall. About six feet of

everything that Joe desired in a woman. He could feel his cock stir in

it's satin confinement.

"Hi. I'm Monica. I'll be your nurse from now on. And you are Mr.


"Last time I looked. Where's the two thugs?"

"Oh they're around somewhere, I'm sure."

An attendant brought in dinner then left.

"I'll bet you're hungry Mr. Watson. You've been out for


"How long was I out? What happened to me?"

"I don't know Mr. Watson." Lied the pretty girl. "I just

started on your case. You'll have to ask Dr. van Damme. Here you

go. Bon appetit."

Joe realized he was starving and dug in with a vengeance,

wolfing down salad, milk, rolls and butter, prime rib, mashed

potatoes and gravy, and finishing with apple pie ala mode. Joe's

meal had tasted pretty bland. He mentioned it to the attendant who

told him he had been put on a no-salt diet on Doctor's orders

Monica left with the tray. Joe marvelled at his new found

ability to put food away. It dawned on Joe that he was handling his

long fingernails with no trouble. In fact, he hardly noticed them


"Boy it's amazing what the human body can adapt to," he thought.

"There's got to be a way to get them off when I get out of


Joe hadn't examined the rest of his body and what a surprise

was he in for. His eyes widened as his arm brushed against his

chest. Pulling up his gown, he stared dumbfounded. What had been a

case of swelling nipples were now full-blown breasts. Not quite

massive,  but definitely prominent.

What had been swollen nipples were now elongated cones, projecting out

from abundant hemispheres of flesh. The aureoles around his nipples

had continued to expand and they and the nipples were now a dark pink,

almost brown.

Frightened, yet curious at the same time, Joe timidly brought

his right hand up and touched his left breast. He was rewarded with

a strong sensation of pleasure. He grasped the nipple between his

index finger and thumb. The pleasurable feeling increased as he

increased the pressure on the nipple.  He watched in amazement as the

nipple responded to his touch. It enlarged and became rigid. As Joe

rolled the nipple between his fingers he felt his penis awaken.

Stopping for a minute, Joe padded to the door. Satisfied that

the hallway was empty, he went to the bathroom. Elated that his

cock was working again, Joe raised his gown, pulled down his

panties, and then sat on the toilet, fondling his breasts and

stroking his cock, awash in pleasure.

Joe's cock never did become totally erect, but finally spasmed

and discharged a watery impotent fluid. Joe wrote this off to it's

long inactivity, wiped himself off, replaced his attire, and

flushed the toilet.

Proud of his performance, he returned to bed. Smugly thinking. "So

that doctor thinks she can turn me into a bimbo. Well we'll just see

about that!"

He hadn't noticed how his forearms brushed against his hips as

he walked.

In her office, Dr. Van Damme turned away from the monitor. "So

Dave, is this all part of the plan?" She asked her director of

behavior modification.

"Yes Doctor. In fact, he is ahead of schedule."

"What's next Dave?'

"I understood doctor, that there were some more physical

changes to be concluded before we went on psychologically."

"My next stage is to get him dressing in feminine apparel."

"And how will you accomplish that?" Asked Dr. van Damme.

"During his session with Dr. Baxter's mind machine," he used

staff slang, " I had instilled in Joe, the psycho-sexual response

of the typical transvestite. You may be aware that these are men

who feel compelled to dress in women's clothing, and obtain great

sexual stimulation and pleasure from doing so. I masked this

character trait, so we need only hypnotize him, give him the

release cue, and his first experience in female finery will

conclude his imprinting. After that, I'd venture a guess that you

couldn't keep him out of women's clothing. Would you like me to do

this now?"

"No Dave, not just yet. Let's allow Joe to reach his full

development.  No sense wasting money on clothing now, that will no

longer fit him when his tits and ass stop growing."



Joe finished another enormous breakfast. Many days had left

him no illusions as to where the food was going, but he felt no

urge to diet. His breasts were expanding mounds. Jokingly he mused,

"If this keeps up I may need a bra." Rejecting the notion as

trivial, he gave it no further thought. Everything would be

corrected once he got out of this madhouse. "Let them have their

little fun. We'll see whose laughing at the end."

Joe was now aware of the fact that he had to hold his arms out

away from his body as he walked. They couldn't hang straight down;

his hips got in the way.  He also had to swing them in an

unfamiliar manner, to compensate for the oscillations of his

tremendous buttocks as he walked. He felt like his whole center of

gravity had shifted. Without his being aware of it, his gait had

modified itself to counterbalance his new distribution of mass.

Dr. van Damme and her chief plastic surgeon watched from her

office as Joe went about his morning toilet. "What are the changes

you want done to this one?" Inquired the surgeon.

"Just some minor detail work; the ears pinned back, the nose

bobbed and those little implants put in to give him those high sexy

cheekbones. I also want his eyes opened for more expression, and

his lips made as full as your skill allows."

"No problem there. I'm ready when you are."

"Good. In a couple of days then."

By now Joe had dried off, and Monica was giving him a rubdown

on the bed.

"You may find this interesting Doctor," said Dr. van Damme.

"What's that?"

"The subject is being applied an experimental medication that

will make us wealthy beyond our dreams. We have had great success

retarding the aging process using injections of fetal material,

however, many people objected on ethical grounds. The lab was able

to extract the compound that produced that result and was able to

synthesize it. Applied in a regimen of topical application it

reverses the effect of aging on the skin."

"I remember the millions that poured out for Retin-A which was

of dubious effectiveness," stated the surgeon.

"The money involved here will make that seem like a child's

kiddy bank. Take this subject for instance. For several months now

his skin has been replacing itself under the influence of female

hormones. It now has all the characteristics of female skin, but he

is still thirty-one years old. When his treatment is complete he

will have the skin texture of an eighteen year old girl."

"Mmmm. Interesting."

Joe relaxed and savored the tingling feeling that covered his

body. It was almost as if his skin was alive. He wondered if he

would get a chance to masturbate this morning. His cock and nipples

stiffened in anticipation.

     Meanwhile ...  Back in New York.


     Joe  Watson's   son,  Robert,   confronted  his  newly  appointed

     guardian, Gloria  Watson. "I  don't care  what the court says, my

     father wanted you out of his life. Just because he never changed

     his will doesn't give you the right to take over my life."


     "Now Bob,  that's no  way to  talk. It seems to me he didn't want

     you cluttering  up his life either. I understand that, except for

     your support money and a birthday card once a year, you never saw

     or heard  from him. Let's put the past behind us and work through

     these hard times together."


     "Fuck you!  Just wait till I get control of my money. I'll see to

     it that you're finished in this town."


     "Fine Bob. If that's how you want it ... "



Joe awoke from a tortured dream, only to find his reality just

as severe. He couldn't open his eyes or move his lips. His throat

burned, his mouth was dry, and every part of his face ached. Just

then he felt the sting of a needle entering his arm, relief, and

... blackness.

Joe sipped his milkshake. That's all the nourishment he'd had

for some time now. He wore big braces on his teeth which prevented

the intake of more solid food. The pads had been removed from his

eyes and lips. He still couldn't speak.

Dr. van Damme, Monica, and several other people filed into his

room. One of the men went to work removing Joe's braces. "I've

straightened, capped, and evened his teeth up." Looking in Joe's

mouth, he said "They're flawless."

Dr. van Damme and another doctor looked at Joe's face critically, the

surgeon grabbing his head and turning it this way and that.

"Exquisite Doctor. Once again you've outdone yourself," said

Dr. van Damme.

The surgeon acknowledged her compliment with a nod.

"So what do you have to say Joe?" asked Dr. van Damme.

Joe tried to tell her that he was fine but no matter what he

did, no sound came from his mouth.

"What's the matter Joe? Cat got your tongue?"

The crowd laughed.

By trying to hum Joe was finally able to produce a noise. It

was a high-pitched squeak.

"O.K., enough fooling around. What's wrong Joe, is that you've

been given a new larynx. Many people loose theirs to throat cancer

very year and an man made one that won't be noticed will allow

thousands to speak again and rejoin society. The only difficulty is

that the muscles that operate your new voice, function differently

from your old ones. Mrs. Johnson here will be your speech therapist

and teach you how to speak again."

The crowd departed and Joe was left alone for his first session with

Mrs. Johnson. As he tried to speak he noticed that, in addition to his

throat, his lips felt odd.

The following days reminded Joe of the movie "My Fair Lady".

He felt like Eliza Doolittle learning to speak.  Not only that, but

after several weeks he spoke like her too! Not with a British

accent, but in a sweet soprano voice.

Two things about this latest development bothered Joe in

particular. First, he had to learn to operate new muscles to

pronounce each word.  This was a long process and so far he had only

the vocabulary of a first grader, but Mrs. Johnson had told him

that her sessions with him were almost over.  Secondly, he didn't

like the enunciation patterns that Mrs. Johnson had imparted to

him; he now spoke in the slow breathy drawl of a seductive young




One morning, Monica and another girl entered Joe's room. Joe was

wearing a pink satin chemise gown with spaghetti straps, trying to

ignore what was under it. His breasts had finally stopped growing, but

it was too late as far as Joe was concerned; the new appendages were


Joe didn't joke about needing a bra anymore. Now he wondered when he'd

be given one to take the considerable strain of supporting the

pendulous mammaries off of his pectoral muscles.

"Good morning Joe. This is Betsy. She's a cosmetologist and

will be working on you today."

Joe groaned inwardly. He'd suspected that this would happen

sooner or later. It seemed that every occurrence brought him closer

to Dr. van Damme's promised outcome.

Betsy fussed around Joe's face. He felt her applying make-up

to his lips, eyelids, and cheeks. When she was done, she took Joe's

picture. The process was repeated several times.

Betsy was talking with Dr. van Damme as Dave Weinstein, Monica, and a

strange man looked on.

"What color is his hair going to be," asked Betsy.

"Blonde." Replied Dr. van Damme. Thinking "As if we ever had a


"In that case, I'd recommend this style."

"That's too subdued. I had something a little more extreme in


"That we can do." Said Betsy, getting some colored markers and

making changes to the close-up photographs of Joe's made up face.

When she was finished Dr. van Damme smiled and nodded her approval.

"What do you think?" She asked the strange man.

Looking at the pictures, he replied, "No problem. Child's

play. I'll go get my gear ready."

After he left, Dr. van Damme addressed Dave Weinstein. "While

Joe is under for this, I want you to remove the block on his

transvestite programming."

"Please get up and come with me Joe."

Joe had been expecting lunch, which was late. Instead here was

Monica telling him to come with her. Too apprehensive to complain,

Joe swung out of bed, slipped on his high heeled mules, and grabbed

a robe which matched his chemise.

Joe tried to remain self-possessed as he followed Monica down

the hall, but was not very successful. He knew he presented a

spectacle; a bald man with the figure of a centerfold.  Walking in

his high heels produced a loud racket which resounded throughout

the corridors.  With each step his large breasts bounced awkwardly,

the nipples rubbing against his satin gown, providing unwanted

stimulation.  He tried to straighten up and not swing his hips so

much.  This made his breasts even more prominent and walking more


They entered a room containing a bed and some unfamiliar


"Strip and lie down on the bed."

Joe shed his robe and chemise. He felt uneasy, not being aware

of his implanted need to conceal his breasts.

The strange man entered and Joe experienced intense embarrassment and

instinctively covered his breasts with his arms. He was grateful when

Monica covered him with a sheet, over which she placed a plastic mat

for protection.

Monica produced a gas mask. Knowing the futility of resistance, Joe

breathed deeply. As his awareness ebbed Joe saw the man raise what

looked like a dentists drill and attach a bottle of red fluid to it.

"Wait a minute, that's a ... "

The tattooist turned on his needle and started to outline the

unconscious man's appealing lips. He thought to himself, "Real

pretty, this one's gonna be real pretty."



It didn't take Joe's, now youthful, skin long to recover from

being dyed. While his face was still covered up, he was moved to a

new room. He saw it for the first time the morning Monica took off

his bandages. It was large, sunny, and finished in an extremely

feminine decor.  Joe was delighted by his new room, although he

didn't know why.

"No more breakfast in bed for you." Monica told him.

"This morning you get dressed and eat in the cafeteria with

the rest of us peasants.  Now go and wash up, while I lay out your


Joe felt anticipation grow in him for some reason. "Hey, it's

not such a big deal, going out for breakfast," he told himself,

mistaking it's source.

There was no mirror in the bathroom, so Joe couldn't observe

the remodeling that had been done to his face. However, as he

washed, Joe could perceive some changes by touch; his nose felt

smaller, his lips were fleshy and appeared to project out, over

teeth that didn't seem to meet just right.  He wondered about the

tattooing on his face.

"I think I read somewhere that they can be removed by lasers,"

he thought to himself.

Then it occurred to Joe. "She's going to make me wear women's

clothing today."

He was surprised that the notion didn't trouble him. In fact, he found

the idea slightly pleasing. His worries over what had been done to his

face faded, as he thought about how Monica would dress him.

Joe came out wearing only a robe. Monica handed him a pair of

pink satin and lace panties. Holding them up, Joe looked at them

and thought "these are going to be way too big for me." He pulled

them up his hairless legs and adjusted them around his hips. To his

great surprise, they were a perfect fit, except in the crotch where

his cock and balls were obvious by their outline. The panties

delighted Joe. He ran his hand over his ass, enjoying it's touch

through the satin on his soft skin.

"When I get out of here, I'm going to have some satin briefs

made for me," he decided.

Monica held up a matching bra. Joe stared at it, speculating on how

his breasts would look, supported in the sheer cups. Monica showed Joe

how to don the bra. She adjusted the straps so that his breasts were

supported, and at the same time, displayed to their best advantage. At

the same time, Monica was sure to follow Dave Weinstein's instructions

to caress Joe's breasts and cock whenever the opportunity presented

itself. "Wow, a D-cup, and it's a tight fit. He better give up those

candy bars." Monica thought to herself.

Joe marvelled at the sensation of his breasts in their delicate

confinement. He could view his nipples and aureoles clearly through

the lace cups. He found the sight thrilling and his cock stirred

inside his pretty panties.

Monica interrupted his thoughts."Sit down here Joe."

Motioning Joe to the chair, she held up a pair of what he

recognized as panty-hose.

"Here Joe. You'll have to be very careful putting these on

with those dragon-lady nails of yours. They're ultra-sheer and it

won't take much to put runs in them. You pull the legs up like

this, put your foot in; the seam goes across your toes, pull it up

to your thighs, then do the other leg."

Joe followed her instructions.

"Good. Now position the crotch and pull the panty smoothly

over your hips."

Joe stood there amazed at the feel of his legs encased in the

taupe colored nylon.

"Man, I didn't know girls clothes could be such a turn on."

Joe thought, not realizing he was talking aloud.

"Oh yes Joe. They can be so thrilling."

Joe admired the way his legs glistened in the delicate hosiery,

delighting in the sensations he felt and the sound his

legs made when they brushed each other.

Monica produced a slip, made of the same pink satin as Joe's

bra and panties, with a lacy bodice and hemline. She put it over

his head and let it slide down. Arranging the slip so that it hung

properly, she noticed that the profiles of Joe's excited nipples

were clearly discernable.  The slip was a snug fit across Joe's

broad hips and Monica could see the outline of his stiff cock

underneath it.

Looking in the large walk-in closet Monica was amazed at the

collection of clothing there; shoes, dresses, blouses, skirts,

gowns, everything a fashionable young woman could want. It was all

custom designed and made. She felt a momentary pang of jealousy

which vanished when she thought. "He'll never buy clothes off the

rack. He's a misses size ten with a size two waist and size

fourteen bust and hips."

Returning with a pair of red leather pumps, Monica slipped them onto

Joe's feet. "Wow. How does he do it? Those heels must be at least five

inches high." Monica thought, watching Joe maneuver

effortlessly in his pumps.

Monica held out Joe's first dress as he stepped into it. Resistance

was the furthest thing from his mind; the transvestite programming had

taken control and he was really getting into the swing of dressing up.

Monica guided Joe's arms into the half sleeves and pulled the

dress up over him. Made of pink polyester with the look and feel of

satin, it was a jacquard knit with a floral pattern woven into the

material. Making sure that the slip was positioned, and after

brushing against Joe's nipples, Monica pulled up the zipper. The

dress was a tight fit across Joe's bust and hips.

The dress started with a high jewel neckline. Princess seaming

ran down the front, accenting Joe's large bust, ending in a peplum

that swaddled his womanly hips. The skirt of the pretty dress

appeared from under the peplum, continued to below Joe's knees,

with a slit in back so that he could walk. Monica buttoned the

half-sleeves at Joe's elbows.

Joe looked down. His forearms which had been tan, muscular,

and covered with wiry black hair were now pale white, slender, and

hairless. They extended from the sleeves to end in delicate hands

with long and luxurious fingernails.

Monica put a belt, covered in the same fabric as the dress,

around Joe's narrow waist and drew it tight. Joe was encased in

satin and was he ever turned on. Glancing down, he noticed his hard

nipples, their outline projecting through his clothing. Unable to

resist, Joe brought his hands up to his breasts and started

kneading them. Excited beyond reason, Joe dropped his right hand

and caressed his cock under his dress. This slight stimulation

proved to be too much, as his cock erupted and pumped it's load of

cum into his panties.

Joe was dazed. Never before had he experienced such an erotic

rush. He stared at the expanding damp spot in his lap, then looked

sheepishly at Monica. In his sugary voice he stuttered "gee Monica.

I'm sorry. I didn't know ... "

Dr. van damme and Dave had witnessed Joe's impulsive ejaculation in

his feminine costume.

"Well Dave, it looks like your program worked."

"Yes Doctor, but we are at a critical juncture here. You see

Joe's behavior is characteristic of a transvestite, as we wanted.

The problem with this is, once a transvestite has experienced

relief through orgasm he feels guilty. All he wants to do is get

out of the clothes and forget about them until the next episode. We

planned for this and think we can interrupt the pattern.

Back in the room, Monica smiled sweetly at Joe. "Don't get

upset Joe."

Taking him by the shoulders, she forced him to look her in the

eyes. "What happened to you is perfectly normal. Sexy clothing can

be such a turn on. Now let's get you cleaned up."

Monica reached down and undid the belt. Turning Joe around,

she unzipped his dress, eased it over his shoulders, and let it

slide down his body into a soft pile around his feet. She repeated

the process with his slip and it joined his dress on the floor.

Joe stepped out of the pile of clothing and turned around to

face Monica. She placed her fingers under the waistbands of Joe's

panty-hose and panties. Going to her knees, Monica pulled Joe's

lingerie over his hips and down to his ankles.

To Joe's great surprise, Monica started licking the cum from

his abdomen; she had never before shown the slightest interest in

intimacy with him.

Monica took his wilted cock in her mouth and Joe felt himself

becoming aroused by her ministrations. His cock tried to stiffen

and his nipples got hard. Monica sucked his balls and cock entirely

into her mouth and played with them with her tongue. She felt Joe's

cock start to get hard and released it from her mouth. She had Joe

slip off his pumps and remove his hose and panties. Joe stood there

wearing only his bra. He wished the pretty blonde would resume the

blowjob. She didn't.

Monica gave Joe a dressing gown to put on, which he did. He

was handed his hose and panties. "These have to be cleaned before

the cum dries in them," Monica informed him. "There is a bottle of

detergent for hand washing delicate fabrics under the sink. Follow

the instructions, roll them up in towel, then hang them over a bar

to dry. I'll take your dress and slip to the laundry and lay out

some other clothing."

As he washed out his lingerie, Joe found his thoughts concentrating on

what clothing Monica would dress him in next. He found the

contemplation exciting. "Damn," he thought, "What is it about women's


Joe doesn't know it yet," said Dave to Dr. van Damme, "but

from now on he'll find donning and wearing women's clothing to be

extremely arousing sexually."

"That's excellent," said Dr. van Damme. "Because that's all

he'll ever wear.

     "Well, at least he has the body for it." rejoined Dave.



"Take off your robe and bra," directed Monica.

Joe's inevitable modesty asserted itself. "Can't I leave it

on? It didn't get messed."

"Joe, as you learn to wear the clothing for which your body has been

designed, you'll find that, unlike your men's underwear, different

types of lingerie go with different outfits. What's right with one, is

inappropriate for another. Now get that bra off!"

Joe struggled with his long nails and the unfamiliar bra fastening in

the small of his back.

"I'd like to help you" thought Monica, "but you've got to

learn to manage in your new attire."

Joe got the clasp released and his breasts spilled out of the

bra's lacy embrace. He stood there naked, holding his bra in one

hand with his other arm across his chest.

"What a feminine pose," thought Monica.

Monica went through the dresser. "There doesn't seem to be

another pair of panty-hose," she lied. "I wonder what we can do?"

Trying to pretend as though this had not been meticulously

planned, Monica pawed through the drawers. "Ah, that's it."

Monica held out what looked like a black piece of lace with

strips hanging down. Joe recognized it as a garter belt. His wife

Gloria would never wear one, but some of his conquests had. Joe

blushed at thought of wearing the sexy garment yet, at the same

time, he found the idea thrilling.

Monica fastened the tiny garment around his slim waist,

adjusting it so that the garters hung down in the proper position.

"Sit down Joe."

He did, and she handed him a pair of sheer black stockings.

"Now carefully roll these up, fit the seam across your toes,

and then very carefully roll them up your leg."

Joe did as he was told with the first one. Monica demonstrated

how to connect the two garters. Joe put on the other stocking and

got the garters attached. Joe stood up and Monica took the slack

out of the suspenders, so that the stockings were held securely on

his shapely legs.

"What an odd sensation." Thought Joe, walking around to get

the hang of wearing a garter belt and nylons. He felt the garter

belt tight above his hips, unable to slip down, and the suspenders

flexing on his thighs as he walked, ensuring that his hose would

stay smooth.

"Here Joe, put this on."

Monica handed him a white bra. Joe put it on as he had been

shown previously. Hooking the bra up backwards, turning it around,

and then pulling it up over his breasts.

Joe immediately became aware of several differences; the cups

were not see through, but the profile of his nipples were

unmistakable as they pushed out against the nylon cups, there were

inflexible semi-circles under each cup, and the straps did not come

over the top, but rather down the side of each breast.

The bra provided firm support so his breasts wouldn't bounce around

uncontrollably, but at the same time it pushed Joe's titties together,

holding them up and out. Joe eyed the resulting cleavage. It shocked

him that there was so much of it, but secretly thrilled him. As was

evidenced by his semi-erect cock.

Monica held out what Joe thought were panties to match the garter

belt. He stepped into them and she pulled them up, over his nylon

covered legs. It wasn't a panty, but a very brief black satin and lace


Monica adjusted it so that it rode on his hips. Joe's balls

were very tightly compressed, being forced up by the tight satin

crotch panel, which wasn't designed to hold them. Joe's erect cock

was held tightly against his abdomen, but the black lace wouldn't

stretch to cover the head of it.

"... Ah, Monica, maybe I should tuck it back between my legs?"

"Why Joe, whatever would you want to do that for?"

"You know ... to hide it."

"Why? You're a man. Aren't you?"

"Yes, but ... "

"It still works, as you demonstrated earlier. Perhaps you'd

like me to ask Dr. van Damme to have it removed?"

The suggestion chilled Joe. His cock and balls were the last

discernible evidence of his manhood.

"That crazy doctor won't cut them off, will she?"  wailed Joe

in his girlish voice.

"Now Joe.  How do I know what Dr. van Damme has in store for

you?" lied the pretty nurse.

Joe was really panicked. "Please don't let her cut my balls

off. Please get her to let me keep them."

Monica looked at the pretty man as he wept; her teasing him

had gotten out of hand. She had to get him re-interested in


"O.K. Joe. I promise you, that I'll see to it, that you'll get

to keep your precious little balls."

Anxious to get the plan back on track, Monica held up a sleeveless

white silk blouse. Joe slipped his arms through the delicate garment

and Monica buttoned it up the back.

Joe looked down. The square necked blouse opened up about half-way up

his breasts, their creamy white tops were revealed, and the cleavage

created by Joe's underwire bra left nothing to any onlookers

imagination. The blouse was taut across Joe's bust. He noticed the

outline of his nipples projecting out against the silk.

"Is everything they make me wear going to fit like this?"

wondered Joe.

Monica handed Joe a pair of black patent leather pumps. Joe

sat down to put them on. Looking at the spike heels, he was amazed

that he could even stand up in them, let alone walk around.

Monica held out a black skirt as Joe stepped into it, then tugged it

up over his hips. It was a very tight fit. Joe had to stand with his

legs and knees pressed together, so she could get it up, which only

intensified the pressure on his already aching balls. The skirt was

made of black taffeta lined with acetate. Joe liked the way it felt,

but how could he walk in it. "Aren't skirts supposed to have a slit in

the back," he asked to himself.

Once in position, the skirt fell to his knees. Monica struggled to get

the zipper up over his ass. Finally it was up. Joe looked down; he was

mortified. The skirt was so tight that it outlined everything  under-

neath it. Not only could he see a panty line and the clips of his

garters, but the profile of his balls and erect cock were clearly

outlined by the tight skirt as it pushed them up against his body.

While Joe was considering his appearance, Monica wrapped a

wide black patent belt around his waist and cinched it tight. It

only contrasted the slender waist between his bust and hips. From

a large chest on the dresser, Monica selected some jewelry and

handed Joe a necklace of ebony beads and a matching bracelet.

Joe put them on. The bracelet dangled over his left hand and

the necklace settled in between his breasts, the black beads

drawing further attention to his creamy white cleavage. It was a

weird feeling, to have a necklace resting atop his breasts.

"Don't move Joe," said Monica.

She was holding what looked like large hoops of polished ebony. Joe

noticed that the circles didn't quite meet, but ended in a little pin.

He recognized them as earrings for pierced ears.

"What the ... "  Joe said as Monica fiddled with his right ear. He

felt the post slide through a hole he hadn't known was there, then a

slight pinching sensation as the clasp was fastened. Monica let the

large earring dangle and Joe felt the weight of it pull down on his

earlobe. She had him put the other one in, moving it about until he

found the hole.

Monica gave Joe a black patent clutch. "What do I need this

for?" he asked.

"To carry your things in. In case you haven't noticed, your

skirt doesn't have any pockets."

"Well what sort of things do I have to carry around?'

"Not any make-up that's for sure, you silly boy," thought Monica.

Instead of telling him that she answered. "You never know Joe. Let's

start with a handkerchief."

She got a lacy hankie from the dresser and handed it to him.

"Come on Joe, let's go, before breakfast is over."

"Uh, Monica isn't there something else?"

"Why yes there is Joe. How silly of me to forget it."

She reached in the pocket of her uniform and pulled out a tag.

It read:


Monica attached it to the neckline of his blouse, right

between his breasts.

This, coupled with the conspicuous display of his breasts and

male organs, was to much for Joe.

He started to weep. "I meant, don't I get a wig to wear?"

"Why would you want to wear a wig Joe?"

"So I don't look so foolish."

"Well, I'm afraid Dr. van Damme wants you to appear as you

are, but I can assure you that you will have hair soon enough. Now

come on!"

The embarrassed man tried to follow her, but he could hardly

walk. By trial and error he figured out how to move; taking short

mincing steps with his legs pressed together, and moving mostly

below the knees. This delicate stride made his hips sway, even more

than they normally did, and his ass swing in a wide arc.

The sensations of wearing tight revealing feminine clothes weren't the

only things turning Joe on. The sounds he made as he walked did also;

his high heels clicked out a staccato beat which echoed down the

passageway, his nylon sheathed legs rubbed together with a dainty

sound, his skirt made delicious undertones as his stockings slithered

against the lining, and the swish, produced by the friction between

the lining and taffeta, as his hips gyrated in their confining


Not only that but, pressed tightly between his tight skirt and

abdomen, Joe's cock was stimulated by the skirt shifting, every

time his hips moved.

Joe thought, "I'd better be careful, or I'll shoot a load in

these clothes too."



Joe wondered why he hadn't drawn any attention in the cafeteria.

"Surely, I must have been a sight," he thought.

Joe didn't know that there were two good reasons for his not

causing a commotion; Dr. van Damme's staff was well trained not to

display interest in anything out of the ordinary, and they had all

seen more outlandish creatures than Joe Watson result from the

Doctor's experiments.

Monica hadn't allowed Joe his customary huge breakfast,

instead limiting him to cereal, skim milk, and fresh fruit.

Patting his taffeta wrapped behind Joe thought. "That's O.K.

I certainly don't need to put any more weight on."

Joe worried about how he would get it off, once he was

liberated from the island.

Back in his new room, Joe sat in a chaise lounge. He tried to

adjust his position so as to relieve the pressure on his testicles.

He felt very vulnerable with them exposed and constricted the way

they were. The strain on them did not abate and any movement merely

caused further discomfort. He found out that sitting still caused

him the least suffering.

The room was equipped with a television. Turning it on, Joe

observed nothing but soap operas. There were some magazines in a

holder by his chair. He looked through them. They were all fashion

and women's magazines; Cosmopolitan and the like. Joe had a sinking

spell when he saw the dates on them; he'd been here quite awhile.

Bored, he picked up an issue of Vogue and started thumbing

through it. Before long his transvestite inclinations had taken

over. Looking at a particularly charming evening gown, Joe thought

to himself. "I wonder how I would look in that?"

Just then Monica entered his room. "Get up Joe, you've got an


"For what?"

"Don't you worry about that. Just get moving."

Joe tapped down the hall in his heels, attempting to keep up

with Monica in his restrictive apparel. Joe followed Monica into

what looked like a lecture hall. There was a chair in front

surrounded by machinery.

"Sit in the chair Joe."

Joe obeyed,and his aching balls were squeezed even more as he

settled his plump behind into the chair. Monica tightened straps

around his ankles, lap, waist, wrists, arms, and above his breasts.

A strap around his neck pulled him hard against the back of the

chair, but there was no headrest or support. Monica rubbed some

lotion all over his bald head.

"What's this? The electric chair?" he joked.

Monica didn't answer. Instead, she produced a ball gag, forced

it between his lips, and tied it in place. The lotion was then

applied to his forehead and eyelids.

People came in, seated themselves throughout the room, and

talked quietly among themselves. The room was almost full when Dr.

van Damme entered with a man. Joe recognized him as the Doctor who

had given him his fingernails. The group hushed as Dr. van Damme

introduced Dr. Brenner then sat down.

"Has the desensitizing agent been applied to the subject?" The

Doctor asked Monica.

"Yes sir."


He pulled a piece of the equipment out, turned it on, and

swung it out on an extension over Joe's head.

"This is a further refinement of my work with the acrylics

that produced the subject's fingernails. First I turn on the laser

and outline the area to be covered."

As he talked he rotated the machine completely around Joe,

keeping it focused on his head.

"The outline is stored in the computer's memory. Then I just

turn it on like this."

There was a humming noise, not unlike a sewing machine, and

Joe could feel a vibration in his head.

"The color is selected, the machine mixes it, and then extrudes it as

a fiber which is randomly varied in cross-section and color for a

natural appearance.  Select the length carefully because, like the

fingernails, once it's formed it's forever. The strands won't burn,

fade, can't be cut or dyed, but at least you don't have to worry about

split ends. Otherwise, the fibers are indistinguishable from organic

hair. They need to be washed, regular shampoo will do, and sprays and

gels will control the strands allowing them to be styled in any

manner. I think what I have here is the ultimate in hair replacement."

Joe worked at his gag. "What are they doing to me now?"

"The newly formed fiber, before it solidifies, is connected to

a needle and inserted into the skull where, once it sets, it is

anchored permanently and can't be pulled out."

The machine hummed on.

After awhile it stopped. The Doctor moved another unit to the

front of Joe's face.

"To replace hair not on the scalp, this device allows the

fibers to be secured in the skin, much like a hair root. Also, like

natural hair, these strands can be pulled out, but I understand

that it's quite painful."

The Doctor aimed the light at Joe's forehead twice then turned

it on. Joe felt a sensation of pressure on his forehead over each

eye and then it was done.

"As you can see the length, color, and thickness are totally


The machine stopped. The Doctor examined Joe's face. Joe saw

the Doctor peek down at his cleavage, and felt a twinge of shame.

There was more than a professional interest in the Doctor's eyes.

Was it desire?

The Doctor grabbed Joe's right eyelid and pulled it out. Using

tweezers to grasp it, he moved the unit over to engage and clamp

down on it.

"The machine even allows for individual detail work."

The machine buzzed slowly and Joe felt a tugging on his eyelid. The

process was repeated on his bottom lid and then the left eye.

The small machine was pulled away.

Joe blinked. His eyelids were heavy and he felt lashes brush

on his cheek.

"What have they done to my eyes?" he thought.

The Doctor spoke. "Now that the main unit is finished we can

open the accumulator."

There was a click and Joe felt a weight on his head. He couldn't see

it, but he experienced the odd sensation of mass pulling on his scalp.

The Doctor was congratulated by his fellows and they all departed,

leaving Joe and Monica alone.

Monica came up and released his bonds. "See I told you you'd have hair

soon enough. Now you have to worry about taking care of it."

Joe's gag was removed and the restraints released. Standing

up, he felt the unfamiliar sensation of hair brushing against his

neck and shoulder blades. Joe reached up and touched an enormous

mass of hair. He pulled a handful forward over his shoulder. It was

the color of gold.

He was a blonde.


Joe ran his long red fingernails through his long blonde hair.

The transvestite in him loved it. He pulled more over. Hair covered

the tops of his breasts and Joe could feel his new tresses hanging

down his back, almost to his waist.

Incredulous, Joe followed Monica back to his room. She left him

sitting on the chaise, still gazing at handfuls of his magnificent

blonde hair. After awhile, Joe recovered from this blow only to get

another; a full-length mirror had been positioned on the wall on the

other side of the room. Joe just looked at it, afraid to go over and

see his reflection. Finally his curiosity overcame his misgivings and

the trembling man shut his eyes and walked over in front of the


Opening his eyes, Joe saw the most desirable woman he had ever

laid eyes on.  Completely astounded, he stared at her.  The girl in

the mirror appeared to be about twenty or twenty-one.  Long blonde

hair framed a oval face.  Her eyebrows were narrow semi-circles,

arching highly above provocative green eyes.  Long lashes, thick

with mascara, curved out from lids lined heavily in black.  The blue

shadow on the eyelids darkened to purple in the eye crease, then

softened, as it rose, to become silver under the eyebrows.

The pert nose and high cheekbones added refinement to her

face. Her skin was soft and ivory colored, except for rosy red

cheeks. Opulent red lips smiled sweetly at him and begged to be

kissed. In back of them, perfect white teeth sparkled. "That's me."

Joe cried.

The only familiar reference was his green eyes, but even they

were different; more open and wider as if he viewed the world in

perpetual wonder. And those lips!

"But I'm not smiling," thought Joe.

The cosmetic surgery which had made his lips full and protruding had

somehow formed his mouth into a permanent smile. Joe noticed that the

bright red lip color matched his nails, and that his make-up was a

trifle on the heavy side. "Wait a minute," he thought. "I don't have

any make-up on."

"That's tattooed on my skin!"

Joe's panic was short lived as he stood there and stared at himself.

He loved this babe whose image the mirror reflected and he lusted for

her. Meanwhile the transvestite in his mind relished how sensual he

looked. Joe became more and more aroused the longer he studied his

reflection in the mirror. He had been reconstructed to look like a

girl from one of his sexual fantasies. He couldn't

believe it.

Joe's tiny feet were perched on black patent high heels.

Shapely legs, encased in sheer black nylons, disappeared into the

tight skirt which defined the contours of his broad hips which were

further emphasized by the wide belt wrapped around his

infinitesimal waist.

Joe's massive breasts strained against his silken blouse revealing an

expanse of cleavage guaranteed to arouse the interest of any man who

hadn't been dead for over an hour. A beautiful face, long blonde hair,

slim arms, and graceful hands with their long red fingernails

completed a vision of loveliness; Joe was every inch a stunning and

desirable young woman.

Except for those inches outlined under his tight skirt!

Joe gazed at his reflection. His arousal grew until finally,

without a touch, he ejaculated into his tight taffeta skirt.

Released from his enchantment, Joe removed his belt then tried

to get his tight skirt off. It was tough going; getting the zipper

down over his rounded ass, what with the long nails and all.

Eventually he got it down, peeled the skirt off, stepped out of it,

and threw it in the hamper.

Joe saw the advantage now of the bikini he wore. Since the

head of his cock was not covered, he had come into the skirt, and

his panties were unsoiled. There was some gooey residue on his

abdomen however, and Joe went to the bathroom to get a tissue and

wipe it off.

Once there though, Joe could only stare at the cum on his

belly. He found himself filled with an overpowering need to taste

it. Joe placed the tip of his right index finger in the sticky goo,

then brought it to his red lips. His tongue snaked out and licked

it. "Hmm." It tasted salty and somehow familiar.

Joe rubbed the fingers of his other hand in the sticky mess

and brought it to his mouth. Hungrily he lapped his cum of off his

fingers loving every drop of it.

"What's going on?" Joe wondered. Why did he find eating his cum so


Joe decided that his body craved salt because of the lack of

it in his diet. His chagrin alleviated by this bogus rationalization,

Joe repeated his actions, alternating hands and sucking on each finger

until it was clean. Somehow still compelled by his mysterious hunger,

Joe returned to his bedroom.

Joe walked to the hamper. He didn't want to do this but was

powerless to resist. Slowly, he reached into the hamper and

withdrew his soiled skirt. Turning it inside out, he raised it to

his lips, and hesitantly licked at the damp lining. Joe could taste

his cum. He drew the material into his mouth and sucked at it

vigorously. "What's happening to me," he wondered. He didn't really

want to be doing this but something inside his mind forced him on.

"Is all this dressing and looking like a woman making me act

like one?" Joe asked himself.

Joe sat on the chaise lounge feeling silly. He'd tried to

remove his blouse but couldn't reach the buttons in back, so he

remained as he was; half dressed.

Monica entered. She knew what had transpired, having watched

the interlude from Dr. van Damme's office. "Let's get you undressed


"What should I wear to dinner?"

Monica wanted to say: "You've just had your dinner. Do you

really want some more," but instead said "it's too late for dinner,

but I'll get you a snack when your ready for bed."

Joe removed his jewelry. Monica unbuttoned the blouse and Joe

shucked it off and put it in the hamper. Joe removed his shoes and

placed them in the closet, removed his bikini, undid the garters,

unhooked the garter belt and took it off. Joe removed his bra and

stockings and went to the hamper with his lingerie.

"Wait a minute Joe. You have to wash your undies out by hand

every night."

Handing him a short nightie, Monica said, "Clean them like you

did your panties and hose this morning."

Joe put on the nightie to cover his breasts.

When he was done and had hung his underwear up to dry, he

returned to the bedroom where Monica was waiting for him. Holding

out a sandwich and glass of milk she said, "here eat this then get

in bed."

After eating, and when Monica had left, Joe lay in bed,

enjoying the luxuriousness of the satin sheets. He decided he liked

the way his head nestled in the bulk of his blonde hair.

Joe didn't get dressed the next day. Monica brought him his

breakfast, then Betsy arrived. Joe spent the day with her learning

to care for his new hair. Betsy showed him how to wash, dry, and

style it, trying to make Joe feel good about what had been done to

his appearance. "Just think Joe, you'll never have to get a

haircut." Or, "Think of the time you'll save not having to spend

hours putting on or removing cosmetics."

"But why would I ever want to wear make-up in the first

place?" thought Joe.

By the end of the day Joe could arrange his hair in any number

of fashions;  from a tight bun to adorable little ringlets.

Joe woke up groggy the next morning. He stumbled into the

bathroom and splashed water on his face. There was now a mirror

over the sink. It shocked him to see his face, first thing in the

morning, all made up as if he had just left a beauty salon.

"I guess I'll have to live with it for awhile," he thought. "I

know tattoos can be removed or covered up. I'll get rid of this

face once I'm home."

Joe opened the closet and looked at the vast array of dresses

there wondering which one he might be dressed in today. He got

turned on thinking about the clothing.  Going to the bathroom he sat

on the toilet and massaged his breasts until his cock was hard. Now

when he masturbated he used his right hand and beat off into his


After he had come, he consumed the semen in his hand, savoring

every drop.

"Surprise Joe!" said Monica. "You get to go to the beach

today. You need some color."

Instead of a dress Monica put Joe in a swimsuit. It was a very

revealing one-piece made of spandex. The strapless suit was black,

except for the elasticized top which was white with a big bow over

his bust. Naturally, everything was revealed, including his male


Joe was given a white cotton cover-up, some sandals, and a

gold chain was locked around his neck. "Sorry about the sandals

Joe, but they're all I can find for the beach. Don't try to remove

that chain, it's a locating device in case you get lost. Don't even

think about trying to run away. Dr. van Damme owns the whole

island, there's nothing else close, and no way off it . Parts of

the island can be very dangerous, and you can't go very far or very

fast with your feet."

Joe was turned over to Betsy who took him to a lovely secluded

beach, put lotion and sunscreen on him, and saw to it that he

tanned properly.

After several days of this, Joe looked like a bronze goddess.

Joe considered his dressing as a woman. It didn't seem to

bother him at all any more. In fact, as he would admit only to

himself, he got a kick out of it. While his physical development

had been, for the most part, gradual allowing him to acclimate

himself to the changes in his body, he had been abruptly thrown

into the world of women's fashion which was totally alien to him.

Some of it took some getting used to, especially bras and

hosiery. If he wasn't at the beach or sleeping, Joe was wearing a

bra and either stockings or panty-hose. Joe hadn't as yet been able

to accept as normal, the wearing of stockings. He was mesmerized by

the appearance of his shapely legs in shimmering nylon. Not only

that, but whenever he wore hose, which was most of the time, the

feeling of his hairless legs in their delightful embrace drove him

to distraction. Added to which, were the exquisite sensations he

received as the delicate fabrics of his apparel massaged his legs

through his ultra-sheer hosiery.

Joe had always thought that a bra was a bra, not knowing of

the vast assortment available to women for different purposes;

bandeaus, underwires, long-lines, front-hook, back-hook, natural

cup, strapless, and more. Joe was learning quickly though; he wore

them all. The one bra that Joe just couldn't get comfortable in was

the demi-bra, this infernal design just held his jugs out but

didn't cover the nipples at all. Five minutes in a demi-bra under

a slip, blouse, or dress and Joe's nipples would be rock hard and

his cock ready to pop.

Joe had gone through a hard enough time getting accustomed to

having tits, but now he was kept constantly aware of their presence

on his chest by the firm pressure of the well-stuffed brassieres he

wore. It had become unnerving to go without one, as he did now.

One of Joe's questions had been answered for him as, piece by piece,

he was dressed through the contents of his new wardrobe.  Yes,

everything they gave him to wear fit just like his first outfits did.

Every single bit of clothing was tight, sheer, revealing, and

sensuous; designed to put on display the feminine qualities which Joe

now possessed in abundance.

There wasn't anything that could even be considered normal day

wear. Not only that, but lately Monica and Betsy had been treating

him like a mannequin, entertaining themselves by dressing him in

whatever fashions caught their fancy.

Take this morning for instance; Joe was very self-conscious,

knowing he was dressed inappropriately for breakfast, let alone

cafeteria dining, but this was how Monica had bedecked him this

morning. He had been poured into a strapless, long, black velvet,

evening gown. Having been given no bra, his enormous breasts

jiggled with every step, seeming as if they would leap out of the

gown's embrace at any moment. Black satin pumps, along with shapely

legs and thighs clad in filmy black panty-hose, revealed

themselves, snaking out through excessively high slits in his

skirt. Joe's hair had been brushed out straight and styled so that

it fanned out over his back, covering his shoulders like a yellow

cape. Long elaborate rhinestone earrings dangled from his ears

matching the sparkling necklace and bracelets that he wore. As Joe

ate his low-fat cottage cheese, he thought, "I should be in a

whisky advertisement."

Joe found this funny for some reason. Giggling, he spilled

some cottage cheese onto the bare top of his breast. He tried to

wipe it up discreetly, but every male eye in the room was glued to

him, Dr. van Damme's instructions notwithstanding.



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


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.



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."



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."


"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.

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."



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.


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


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.



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


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


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


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.



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


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


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


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


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


Joe was startled out of his daze by the awareness that Monica's cock

was pressing against his asshole. 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.



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