9 comments/ 51428 views/ 8 favorites He To She By: LaurenWestley (Authoress Note: All disclaimers regarding characters, age appropriateness etc are in effect. I really advise anyone under 21 not to read my stories. It takes a certain degree of maturity to enjoy my writings without recriminations. Don't write a review if you don't like the theme of the story. That's just childish. But criticism is always good and helps me. HE – Story from the Dom point of view I knew the minute he walked into the bar he would one day be a she. Looking at him in his skinny jeans, colorful zebra print shirt and Keds sneakers. He looked so young the bartender had to ask him for proof. "You're twenty-three," the bartender said incredulously, "You look about sixteen. Sorry kid. What'll you have?" And yes he looked about sixteen but as the bartender had confirmed he was twenty-three. Old enough to know better and soon to learn his better self. What I couldn't believe is when he ordered a white Russian. What a total girl drink. There was just one empty seat between a he-to-be-she and me: between 5'5" 125 pounds and 6'4" 240 pounds. The bartender asked him did he live in the neighborhood and the kid answered 'yes.' And the bartender was my friend and knew my proclivity so a few moments later he introduced us. "William," the bartender said and then turn towards me, "this is Chopper." A little nickname I had picked up and although most people thought is was because I looked like a biker it was actually because I had flown helicopters in the army. His hand reached out to shake mine. I delayed just a moment. It was an authoritative first moment and then my hand clasped around his and as I closed my fingers the soft skin of his hand was wrapped in my strong rough fingers. "Nice to meet you Billie," I said as I looked into his warm yellow brown eyes my hand still enveloping his. "Same here," he said. Not even knowing I had given him his girl name already. We unclasped and I went back to drinking my Johnnie Walker. So many people had moved up to single malts but I still loved the simple taste of Walker and water. Billie sipped his white Russian with lips aching to be painted red. The old black ceiling fan churned as if it was the percussion to the song, "Hotel California," playing in the background. Always amazed me how there were so many who hated the Eagles and so many who knew the lyrics of this song. After he finished his drink Billie walked, to me swayed, to the bathroom just as the song finished with, "But you can never leave." The bartender, Jake asked me if I was going to turn Billie into my latest girl? Jake knew me well. "Jake, he is already on that road," I answered stroking my goatee. I had shaved what little hair I had on my head years ago and the goatee was my way of compensating. My left cheek sported a jagged scar from my military days. A piece of shrapnel had whizzed twenty yards from an IED explosion while I was lifting some troops out of harms way. Over the past couple of years Jake had seen me take a couple of 'Williams" and turn them into luxurious 'Billies'. Finishing my drink I got up and watched Billie, his creamy white flesh oozing sensuality and his auburn hair wisped from fan above as he was walking back. I thought just a bit longer, a few highlights, a proper cut. Oh yes and look at those lips they sing out for lipstick. Something must have happened during the XY chromosome split since Billie appeared double YY so I guess I knew where the X must be. Funny though after all these years Billie could have had a schlong or perhaps it was just a tiny one. You can't judge by the outer layer. But it didn't matter because once they went girl it was just a clittie. "Was nice to meet you Billie," I said. "I'm just leaving hope to catch you here again." And wouldn't you know it his estrogen kicked in and said he was leaving too so we walked out together. Funny part is, it turned out, we both lived in the same direction except my building was two streets down from his. As we walked we talked and I imagined him in heels. I could almost hear his heels clicking on the cement beneath. "Well Chopper this is where I live," Billie said stopping in front of a nice six story brick apartment building. "I'm just two blocks down," I answered. "We should get together again. I'll be at the tavern 7pm night after next. Hope you can make it." Billie said he'd try to make it and turned to walk into his building. I watched his ass and thought how easily I'd teach him to walk like a woman. Then I headed home humming a tune from "My Fair Lady,' of all things. When you got past Billie's block the neighborhood deteriorated quickly and by the time you got to my old ramshackle house with a front porch sloping to one side you had entered a whole new world. Atlanta is like except for the wealthy enclaves like Ansley, Chastain, and Cherokee etc. But we weren't living uptown. We were downtown somewhere between the city and Decatur. It's an area I know well. Thursday rolls around and I head down to Jake's at 7pm and who's sitting at the bar drinking his little girl drink? Billie! Ha the bait is in the water and the fish doesn't even know he's dinner yet. I walk up to Billie at the bar and give him a slap on the back. You know one of those manly slaps but I also let the weight of my arm spend a moment sensitizing him. It's still too early to sissify him. No, this girl will need lots of work. Lots of time! But she is going to be worth it. I wonder if she'll be all girl and enjoy sucking cock. Billie looks up smiling. (I can't believe it. He's sipping the damn fag drink through one of those tiny straws. Next he'll be smoking Virginia Slims.) "Chopper," he says as I give him the closed fist twist guy handshake and he bungles it. An hour or so later after talking about movies I'm thinking he probably liked the "Notebook" or the "English Patient" (hey don't scare the fish) it's time to pack up for the night. The long mahogany bar has some dribble white Russian marks from when Billie pulled his little straw out and licked the end. He won't be making messes once he's gone girl. And then Billie gets up like the other night and he goes pees just before he leaves. Mental note. Next time I'll go into the bathroom at the same time. We walk to Billie's apartment together and I wonder if he has good legs. Now this happened for the next couple of weeks and we started getting real buddy buddy. And since I know when he's going to go pee I'm am either in at the urinal just before or just after he comes in. Now I don't want to brag but I do have a smiling seven inches and nearly six inches in girth. Our Billie though is a shrinker when he holds tiny dick to pee the head is lost between his thumb and two fingers under his pee clit. Life is great. I always wanted to find a 'shrinker'. Believe it or not most boigirls aren't small regardless of the porn stories. Then one night, of course I had planned it, at the time we usually left I told Billie to go on since I had a few things to wrap up at the bar. Off he went wearing those skinny jeans he always wore and his little lime green Izod sport shirt with his tummy full of two white russians. What a girl I thought. Anyhow little did Billie know what would happen next? I exited the bar about 5 minutes after him knowing a tough group of guys would start to bully him as he walked home. Oh my deal with these guys was exactly as the same as before, money and perhaps more. I walked up to the alley but before I turned in I listened to what was going on. I knew these four whack jobs would have had my script proceeding like a major motion picture production. Billie was pleading for them to let him go. I knew the four guys in a tight circle were pushing him around. One of the gang was teasing Billie about how he was whining like a girl. "You are such a pussy," he cajoled. Billie would soon be a girl. And if I were lucky she'd turn out to be a good little sissy girl. "You're such a FAG girl. You sound like your whining for my dick up your ass?" one of the other guys said. This was my cue. I had figured about five minutes of insults to be followed by that line where I would come rescue my girl. I turned the corner and walked down the alley all 6'4" 240 pounds of hard ass muscle. (The "Chopper" enters stage right.) Yeah just like a movie script the hero comes to rescue the girl. "What are you fuckin' guys doing?" I asked with a snarl and fists ready nearing the closest guy. The next minutes were a whirlwind of choreographed harmony. These thugs knew they might get a chance at Billie's ass someday depending on the type of girl she became. And anyhow the hundred bucks for five minutes work was compensation enough. When I had the pack broken up a bit (some pushing and shoving) I yelled at Billie to run which, of course, she did. She scampered down the alley and to the right. I thought I'm going to have to teach her to run like a girl. Oh what fun the future would hold. After she was gone we banged a few cans around and then we broke up. I walked back up the alley and of course little Billie wasn't to be seen. No my little piggie had run all the way home. Walking down her block I texted her to come down and meet me. Everything was safe. Meanwhile I had a little stage blood dripping from the corner of my mouth. Billie was coming from her apartment building just about when I arrived. "Hey, let's go over to my place," I said. Billie of course said, "Sure," and a look of concern as her eyes saw the blood oozing over my lip. She wanted to know what happened to me. Was I ok? "Well you should see the other guys," I muttered, "let's go to my place." I never ask a sub to do something I want her to do and I wasn't going to start now. Billie and I walked over to my place. This was Billie's first invite so I knew she'd say yes. Billie's eyes darted around furtively as we left her block and things got a bit seedier. This block was much worse then the alley. I walked a little closer to her. Her protector. If she knew what I had planned for her there's no way she'd have gotten to the next block. My block was demolition alley. They had just torn down most of the homes to make way for an upscale apartment building and an empty lot was overgrown with knee high brown grass. It adjoined my property. The faded light blue siding sagging from years of neglect and my decrepit porch didn't exactly say, "come hither" but Billie was here now. Filthy windows and frames painted a decade ago had faded and turned a dirty white more Freddie style then Martha Stewart. "Home Sweet Home," I said, "Come inside." Billie replied, "It's cool," but with a bit of nerves on edge sound. Just the sound of his voice I knew voice lessons could change him to sound like the girl I saw in him. He'd say 'kewl' instead of 'cool' when I was through with the transformation. Now you may be wondering why didn't I just go get me a sub chick. There are plenty of them but the making of a boy to a girl is a bit like Van Gogh painting 'Starry Starry Night' and mixing Edward Munch's 'The Scream' in just for color. I know most who heard this story would condemn me but not one of my girls ever wanted to go back. And Billie was a blank canvass. What kind of girl would she become? Oh I had one who wanted to be a little girl in the end. I finally sold her to a Mistress who was more then happy to play with her. And this wasn't some sexual toy but instead a cute 7 year old girl and her Mom. What you may not know are the many variations of Sissyhood. That just made me laugh. I thought about the "The Sissyhood of the Traveling Panties." There's the baby girl, little girl, school girl, slut, maid, nurse etc. and once you train a girl to accept who she is and live it she finds her slot. In other words a 'baby girl' will never grow up to be a slut. Though there are sluts who like to wear diapers. And as I said little girls who need a Mom or Dad but those who need a Dad usually have a sexual nature to the relationship as well. Billie walked into my pad. The old wide oak planks had seen better days. Some of them were so worn I wondered about their integrity. The place was a typical guy mess. Kitchen dishes needed to be done. The old blue blanket crumpled covering the worn out and now faded original fabric of the sofa. And of course there was my easy chair. It was perfect. A first class Lazy-Boy for the Chopper to have some down time and either play a video game or watch TV. "Hey Billie why don't you go to the fridge and get a beer," I said and he started straight there as if he had rehearsed this part so many time. "Oh and get me one too," I continued once he neared the kitchen. Hey you know what they say, 'manners begin at home. Are you wondering why I haven't really quoted anything Billie has said? There's a simple reason. Nothing he says is important until he goes to she and then she'll be trained as to her permissible convo. If all went well today this would be her beginning. She came back with my beer and handed it to me with a folded paper towel and then went to the couch put her beer on the broken down coffee table and proceeded to straighten the blanket. She was looking more and more like a maid. Perhaps that was her calling. Now I need to give you the layout. The TV was cattycornered in the far right corner. If you came up on the wall on the left you'd arrive at the sofa. So to relax and watch TV one would prefer to lie down. My easy chair was at the far end of the sofa so I could easily watch who was there but they'd have to turn to talk to me if they were lying down. And then Billie said her first girl words, "This place is a mess Chopper." She was sounding more like a maid every minute. But would she be simply a maid or would there be more to her. I turned on the TV to a boxing match. Hey great way to see how she'd react. Especially when I said I was going to clean the place up but now my shoulder hurt from the fight. (Yeah a lie but so what) I had a DVD of the best knock out punches and I could see from how she was turning her face away from the TV the earlier event was playing through her mind and realizing how punishing those guys could have been on her. And then her next girl phrase, "Chopper you saved me back there. I'll clean up for you while you watch TV." Oh, when she finally had voice lessons I'd have to get her to repeat that phrase in a Kate Winslow voice. What I was doing was finding her hidden spot. Everyone has a place in their mind where they go alone and contemplate what they think are unspeakable desires. If you can unlock that part into the reality the person is forever changed into who they are and not what others expect them to be. I was looking into Billie's secret corner and I began to see her as a submissive maid. I would watch to see if she was a slut as well. Maybe I was more like a sculptor. I think I once heard Michelangelo simply removed the stone, which was blocking the beauty of the Pieta. So I was simply going to remove the conventions of society and expose the beauty beneath. Just to clarify a bit more. Many of the he's I help find their she I didn't ever have sex with. This wasn't about sex but if I found a particular kinky girl who once exposed... Well let's just say the rare occasion did occur. Looking at Billie I enjoyed the thought. "Hey Billie there's an apron in the broom closet. Put it on. You wouldn't want to ruin your shirt," I called back as I sat watching Ultimate Fighter. I heard the broom closet door open. Oh yes she was a submissive girl maid. If she could have seen me she'd have seen me smile. The next decisive moment came a week later when she came over to my house. Almost instinctively Billie washed the two glasses in the sink. My plan was about to unfold. One of the hoodlums had run into her, intentionally, in front of her home and had said he'd fuck her in the ass except, "Chopper is your protector." Billie had told me about it and I had told her not to worry since as long as she was with me no one would bother her. Remember I'm a big guy to anyone but to her 5'5" I am a giant. I went over to the refrigerator taking a 32 ounce bottle of Campbell Tomato juice and pouring myself a 16 ounce glass. Billie wasn't wearing her apron (well I thought of it as hers) but had on white pants and a white shirt. How sweet. Little did she know she had worn the perfect color for today's event? At the right moment I did a pretend trip and spilled the whole glass of tomato juice all over her dropping the bottle at the same time which broke spraying the deep red juice all over her pants and mine as well. The look on her face was precious. "Oh accidents will happen," I state as I put my glass down. Never apologize and never ask. I started to take off my pants and told her to take off her clothes and we could run them through the washer and dryer. What amazes me is that some will protest and others won't. Billie didn't and ever more surprising to me she wasn't wearing underwear. It was a bit chilly in the house. Nothing a little clothing wouldn't fix. "Do you have something for me to wear," Billie asked, as she stood naked wiping off tomato juice. She had very little hair on her body. And best of all she had a cute ass and perfect shaped legs. "Take a shower and I'll look for something for you to wear," I said. Billie sauntered off to my shower unaware of what would come next. I left all the clothes in a pile on the floor and was walking around in my t-shirt and briefs. Briefs are an eye catcher and we still had some stuff to do. This was a critical stage. I had left just a hand towel in my bathroom. And had all the rest wiped with my sweat, snot and some yellow stains in a hamper. Just in case she asked. I went into my bedroom and took out two items putting them on the bed. One was a simple pair of white cotton panties. No sense putting her into satin yet. And the other item was a black and white knitted short sleeve housedress. I figured she'd be a size 4 now. Later we'd get her into a 2. The black was block letters spelling things like LOVE and I'm sure you can figure out what other girly words were covering the dress in all sorts of angles and overlapping. Billie called out to me, "Hey do you have another towel? There's only a hand towel in here." "No Billie I don't. All my clothes are dirty and need to be washed. But I found something for you to wear." Billie came out of the bathroom holding the little towel in front of her privates. How dainty. A real man would just walk out dick and balls to the wind. "I only found this," I pointed to the bed, "for you to wear. It was an old girlfriend who left it behind. And it appears to be your size," I said. Then I mentioned how we two were the only ones here and the top would keep her warm and almost just be like a large t-shirt. What would Billie do? Would Billie object? Would she simply put them on? Would she walk naked around for the next couple of hours? I really didn't care since there were only two choices for her, naked or wearing this outfit. I sort of apologized not having anything else for her to wear and explaining how this would fit much better then anything that would fit me with her being 5'5" 125 lbs and me 6'4" and 240. She walked to bed. No protestations. Nothing. She simply took the panties and pulled them up over her shapely legs and slipped the dress over her head as if she had done it a thousand times. Yes, she knew in the hidden part of her mind she was a girl and she trusted me. We were crossing the line. Now it's important to understand Billie did have hair on her body and although it was fine it was visible on her pretty legs and arm pits. Also, as much as I enjoy the process I've come to realize each girl is different. Not every one of them will go through the difficult process of removing all body hair. Even less will let their eyebrows be shaped. Some dream of jewelry adoring their ears. Others want belly rings too. A few are so sub they succumb to a master who may even adorn their genitals and/or have tattoos applied. But having Billie in this dress and panties was good enough at the moment. He To She Ch. 02 (Authoress Note: All disclaimers regarding characters, age appropriateness etc are in effect. I really advise anyone under 21 not to read my stories. It takes a certain degree of maturity to enjoy my writings without recriminations. Don't write a review if you don't like the theme of the story. That's just childish. But criticism is always good and helps me.) Below is Part 2. The first couple of paragraphs are repeated in Part 1 SHE – Her story Well Hi, I'm Billie. Chopper wanted me to write this part. I won't bore you with all the details of the past weeks. Yes I'm aware now of how Chopper coaxed Billie out of Billy but at the same time I know she was in me all the time. And the further I go the more I want. I don't know what my limitations are anymore. The veil of society has been lifted and I see an ocean of desire in me. From the first moment I saw Chopper in the bar I twitched inside and felt his testosterone as a powerful drug to my psyche. I didn't know where I was going but I did feel subliminal feelings especially the time I was in the bathroom and he came in. Just having Chopper stand next to me while seeing his pee rod in comparison to mine was breathtaking. Of course I had seen other men at urinals with their dicks out all were bigger then my stub. All of them to pee like racehorses, which often made me a bit embarrassed. It was just for some reason Chopper exuded more male producing intoxication in me. All the thoughts I had had over my life and been only thoughts except for stealing a pair of panties and wearing them when I was sixteen and another pair I had bought over the internet after I had moved into my apartment. Oh and I had, well I still have, a fuchsia wispy dress I bought at the same time. I only tried it on once and I guess you could say I lied to Chopper about only having worn panties. But it was quite a moment back then at the beginning of my transformation. It's such a vivid moment when Chopper asked me about my 'secret place.' I had never shared those desires but within less then a half hour I had agreed to not only share them but also to live them at Chopper's home. That was nearly two months ago. I remember later in the week when Chopper met me at my apartment entrance greeting me with, "Billie you look so pretty today." What's amazing is I heard Billie and not Billy. No one had called me pretty before. Fag, yes but not pretty. Chopper then said, "Don't worry no one is listening. My promise not to expose you or have you do anything you don't want to is a promise I'll keep. But Billie I will always treat you like a girl when we are alone." Walking with him was like having a powerful force field surrounding you. Exotic as a Gauguin painting must have been when it was first shown. Weeks later I figured out Chopper had meant even outside his home when appropriate. It was as if he moved me on his own personal chessboard. Pawn, Queen, it would change depending on the circumstances. Slowly I gave up more and more control of my life to him. But you should know I gave it up. It wasn't seized from me. Anyhow, back to the first day at Chopper's. I thought he was going to get me either a maid's outfit or a schoolgirl outfit. But he did neither. Instead when we went into his home he told me to go to the bedroom and change. Also, from then on, that was to be the first thing I did each time I went to his house. I was to always be a girl as quickly as possible. I went to the bedroom and there on the bed was a black trapeze dress. The reason I knew it was called a trapeze dress was the receipt had a description. "Black Trapeze featuring thick tank straps, high U neckline." Chopper had come into the bedroom with me explaining he didn't want to limit me so he said he had bought an accessory item but I should take off my clothes and change first. He handed me a pair of cotton panties saying, "it's too soon for satin Billie." I removed all my clothes, turning away from him, slid the panties on and then put the dress on over my head. Just the turning away move was so different for me. I was being modest. How funny. It was more then when I held the towel in front of me. Back then I was still mostly boy but now I'm turning girl. Not a loud demanding female but more a demur submissive girl. I am coming to understand who I am. "Billie, as you can see this dress buttons up from behind. It's a good way for you to reach into your secret place since it's much more feminine. Come here and I'll button you up. Now you want to know feminine? Just Chopper's mass standing behind me buttoning up the dress was as if someone had drained all my testosterone and replaced it with an estrogen transfusion. After he finished Chopper went and sat in his chair and called me to come over when I was ready. I walked out to the living room and there he was sitting or shall I say lounging in his "I am the MAN of the HOUSE" chair. Chopper motioned me over with an index finger wave. Command/Submit. When I was in front of him he handed me a small white gift-wrapped box with a magenta bow and told me it was present. I opened it and inside was a tiny frilly white apron with the word Billie in pink script written on the lower front. "See, it's almost a maid's outfit but so much more versatile," Chopper chuckled as he buttoned me up. I was so nervous. He had me turn around fastening the little apron with a bow in the back. "Remember Billie everything we do is of your own volition," he said. As you know Chopper towers over me and is bald with a goatee. Even the name Chopper translated to me as 'testosterone man.' "Go look in the mirror," Chopper said. The funny part was I felt his tone was authoritative but I also thought he seemed to be to asking. I would learn later he didn't ask. It was my imagination giving me permission to take this journey to my hidden secrets. If I can explain it, his demeanor, tone and words seemed to coax a response from me of submissive assent. When I went to the mirror and looked I saw how gurly I appeared except for the various soft patches of hair under my arms, on my legs and elsewhere. I also noticed my hairdo was definitely not girly. That first time I spent hours cleaning his kitchen and bringing him a few beers as he sat in his Lazy Boy chair watching a ball game. Being a maid to a man seemed so wrong in what social mores had imprinted on my reality but doing it also felt good. I was unsure of which to listen too. Now I had entered my 'secret place' and reality there was a joy. Outside of his saying, "you said a maid so why don't you just enjoy being one today," he gave me no instructions. I enjoyed the whole time almost as if I had been given a 'special ego time release pill.' As I walked around the house barefoot the dress moved sensuously against my thighs. It swished and made me want to move like a pendulum. I had no idea if I was walking as girl or a clown. Chopper didn't say a word but I did feel a femininity that I wanted and didn't wish to ever hide again. So sensuous was the cloth against my skin I even felt a tiny erection and hoped he couldn't see it. This was a moment having a small penis was a good thing. At the end of the first session Chopper asked me if I wanted him to proceed feminizing me. Blushingly and without much hestiation I answered, "Yes." By the end of the third session (remember we were meeting three times a week) I actually asked him if it would be ok if I shaved the hair off my body since it felt funny against the dress. Here I was asking permission because with it I could do it. Submission is a funny mental state. You see before I asked permission several thoughts had raced through my mind during the proceeding twenty-four hours. Should I do it? What if he said, "no?" By asking was I directing the role-play? The answer to that was quite simply. It takes two to tango. Chopper may have gotten me to walk on this path but it was my legs walking. I didn't control the scenery just the destination. Or so I thought at that time. He smiled, which crinkled up his scar, saying, "Billie this is about you so if you want to Nike it. Paint your nails. Get a mani/pedi. Buy makeup. Here you are free. Your secret room should be a wonderful place. There are no goblins. Just dresses and enjoyment. Each session had me falling further into Billie. It seemed as if Chopper knew how to unlock the next-door and then the door after that until he would get to my soul. A soul even I didn't know the everything about. When I showed up with all my hair removed except on my forearms he handed me a pair of satin panties. The next time I got a mani/pedi, I even had my toenails painted red since I figured no one would ever see them; he gave me a pair of heels and stockings. They were just three inches open toe black patent leather but still a thrill for Billie. Now I had my little red nails poking out of the straps holding my feet into the shoes. As difficult as walking in them were at first each step felt as if I was moving quicker to my unknown destination. The second week changes seemed progress more quickly. I was so enjoying myself and Chopper would reinforce this in many ways. When I wasn't cleaning up his home or making him something to eat he would have me study on the computer. I learned how to apply makeup and finally came up with a good look Chopper approved of. He said someday perhaps a stylist could teach me more. Ha, a University of Phoenix for the gender bender. Chopper had never made an advance on me. He kept his word but at the same time he often wandered around in his underwear. I couldn't help but notice his package and I think he caught me staring a couple of times but he never said a word. What's odd is prior to the moment of truly noticing his 'package,' I hadn't even thought about someone else may be waiting in the dark recesses of my 'secret.' It happened one afternoon when I was wearing a schoolgirl outfit he had bought for me. Oh, I guess I didn't tell you how Chopper slowly filled a small wardrobe for me. It wasn't much. I had the evening dress with apron, a sapphire blue short puffy dress with white trim on the short sleeves and sewn in matching faux petticoat. But I think it was the schoolgirl outfit when I realized I was so girl I should probably think about it. That outfit was comprised of a short plaid skirt, very typical schoolgirl, but a bit shorter then probably permissible since it was about six inches above my knees. A plain white shirt, blue blazer, black leggings, flats and a school tie rounded out the outfit. Oh and another reason was a Russian porno flick I saw with a schoolgirl wearing a similar outfit. She had to go pee and the girls room was occupied so she went in the men's room to use the separate wash closet. While she was peeing an older man enters. She can't see him but she hears him. She finishes her business and curiosity has her open the wash closet door a peek. He's pissing in the urinal. She's looking at his cock. There was more to the flick but it was that particular scene that came to my mind when I was walking past the mirror and saw myself. I surprised myself since I began to wonder, while looking in the mirror, what sucking a cock, not an imaginary one, a COCK, Chopper's cock, would be like and as this gate opened I wanted to be even more feminine. Additionally I had never really looked at a cock other then in porn flicks and my own. The next forty hours I thought about nothing else. I had gone from a effeminate boy thinking of dressing up to a young effeminate man thinking about cock. I still didn't think I was gay instead I simply thought I had the wrong gender. So the next time I was at Chopper's I wanted to know. "Do I walk like a woman," I asked Chopper? He told me although I had certainly been trying I hadn't arrived at that point yet but he knew a way to help me learn if I really wanted to. He commented how I swayed but there was more to the move then just that for a girl like me. He told me there was something, which could help, and we'd discuss it the next time we were together. Soon after this conversation, when I came over on a Saturday (every Wednesday, Friday and Saturday) and after I had cleaned up and had his laundry in the washer I walked into the living room with a beer for him. He was sitting in his lounger with just his briefs and a t-shirt. In his lap was the remote and another small white box with a black ribbon this time. Did I tell you he had tattoos on both his arms? On one was a half turned eagle. He said he got that one in the military. The other had a symbol that he said one day he'd tell me. I had not seen him naked but the little I did see made me think he is quite hairy. Or at lease I thought so. And now that I was hairless from the next down he seemed very hairy mentally. "If you want to walk like a woman I can teach you but you have to do something," Chopper said. "Anything," I replied desperately wanting to go further. It seems once I let the genie out of the bottle the more I wanted to become Barbara Eden. He handed me the box, "Open it," Chopper said with his grey eyes oozing the safety of our arrangement. I pulled the bow off, opened the box and my brown-yellow eyes were startled at the content. I just stared. I think my mouth may have even been open. Chopper didn't say anything. He just smiled one of his enigmatic smiles. The plug was small and black. I had seen them in magazines. I even thought about buying one but I never had the courage always afraid someone would find out and the horrific ridicule. "Take it back to your apartment and try it out when you're alone," Chopper coaxed. "And," he continued, "there is a web site 'wiki.susan.org' where you can learn more about who you are and also who you aren't I put the butt plug back in the box knowing my face had flushed and a tingle below was still hidden. Chopper had this way of making it seem the choice was mine but he already knew the outcome. Simply giving me this present seemed as if Chopper meant I would use it. Knowing the web site meant he had also thought about my conversation the week before. But then, did he ask me or tell me, to take it and 'try it out,' when I was 'alone'? Well it flustered me. And if I was going to use it I needed to think first since this was moving a fantasy into reality. Its one thing to be all dressed up. It's quite another to push a butt plug up inside yourself. HE – His Story It's been nearly three months now since I decided to bring the Billie in Billy out and she is a most interesting girl Actually she is the most interesting of all the boigirls I've had the chance to pull out from their secret hiding place. What makes Billie so unique is her openness to shining a light on the dark spots of her secret room and instead of fear she sees a treasure trove. And like finding a major vein of gold Billie's hidden secret runs deep. Deeper then she knew, as you will find out. And surprisingly deeper then I had expected. One simple example was over a month ago when I gave her the butt plug. Once the box was opened she knew it belonged in her secret but instead of hiding it on a high shelf for no one to see the next time she came over she was wearing it. She walked with me from her apartment to my house with a perfect girly sway and didn't say a word to me until later. Besides that she didn't change her gait when we passed a young couple standing in front of her apartment building. She wasn't blatant but she wasn't ashamed either. Billie is amazing. Perhaps the best there could be. Let me try to give you an explanation. The perfect boigirl will win the race competing against any girl for a place in the dominant secret man cave. And here are the reasons. She knows how a guy thinks. She doesn't have excuses to do dumb shit. She enjoys and explorers without recriminations. She's not going to get pregnant no matter how many times you fuck her. And when she's as beautiful as Billie and as thrilling to watch throbbing with submissive desire it's a wonder. Boys like Billie once unleashed or should I say properly leashed bring out a unique style of dominance. I don't expect most to understand from my perspective or man of my other dominant friends I have. But we've talked about it the role of a dominant and all agree there's 'Something about Mary when she wasn't born a Mary.' She has taken the time to learn fashion; makeup, cooking, pleasing, listening and now it was time to see what else coursed through her vein. In some ways the depth of teaching and controlling a Billie is like training a Geisha . "Billie come here," I called to her in my strong authoritative yet unthreatening way. Even though I can't see her walking from the kitchen I know each step of hers is graceful, feminine and sensual. She comes and stands in front me and this is what she looks like now. She has had her hair professionally shaped and it's long to her shoulders. Her once plain auburn hair is now highlighted with a bit lighter color at the ends. The cut accents her oval face and she has plucked, pruned and perfected her eyebrows. Billie doesn't need much makeup since her skin is almost blemish free and tanned. She has two beauty marks and no I'm not telling you where. You'll have to get her naked to find them. Oh, I didn't tell you. She thought it was her idea but of course she forgot when I mentioned how sexy girls with tan lines look so she decided to use a tanning parlor and wore a skimpy bikini so that naked she'd look like a girl out of sports illustrated swimsuit issue after the shoot. She is marked as a woman even when she takes off her clothes. Her tan lines are quite interesting. She must have thought long and hard about what to wear. The bottom actually diminished her little manliness and the back made her ass look even more fuckable. The top in the back was simple a one inch band line running horizontally just below her shoulder blades. But it's the front where she stepped out. Somehow like an airbrushed trompe l'oeil the lines curve and shaping her tits and then an obvious strap line where to hold up the top a string of fabric had gone up over her neck and around the back. Standing there I look at her beautiful toes all polished, up her shapely legs her heels curving in her calves invitingly making the viewer wish to see more. I guess if I had to say whom does she remind me of it would be Jennifer Gardiner except with a 'shrinker' tucked away. I know she's wearing the butt plug since she's worn it every time after I gave it to her. Not only can I tell from the way she walks but she has proudly mentioned it several times. "Billie, do you think about cock?" I ask as I touch her bare leg just above the kneecap on her inner thigh. And no we haven't had sex because I'm an artist and I need the canvas not only to be finished but also dry before I display my work. "Yes," she murmurs in a voice indistinguishable from any other girl. Voice lessons have done wonders. She knows where to accent as a woman ending a sentence up the scale as opposed to men. My forefinger gently caresses and I sense her forbidden desire even before she answers my next words, "Tell me what you think about." Turns out our Billie has had some interesting thoughts because she releases sentence after sentence of both simple sexual desire and more decadent dreams. She wants to see my cock. Actually she wants to suck my cock but a treat for our girl can only come after I push her a bit further down the winding road to the Emerald City. "So Billie, could see yourself being spanked?" I ask. "Yes but not something violent or harmful," she interjects quickly her red mouth parting the words as if a Stop sign meant 'enter'. "But I thought we were discussing my seeing your penis," she says. He To She Ch. 02 She'll get to see my cock. Even smell it. Savor the desire. But she won't get to suck it yet. She has learned a few things over these months about me. One of them is when I ask her something it generally means she's going to find a way to submit to my question. For example, I mentioned one time if she peed like a girl. She answered, "No," but since then she has never peed standing up. From what she's told me even at work she uses a stall now. If you don't mind a quick aside here to those men who feel dominance is slapping a girl around is not my idea of fun. I don't train that kind of girl but I will give you an example of what I enjoy as well as enjoying grabbing a bit more control with each visit. It's the kind of power a lion tamer must enjoy. I have patience. Remember I've trained many girls before and I've been rewarded handsomely for my efforts in large cash amounts from men who want to find someone who is even half a Billie. And that Billie is a virgin ups the value. She may be worth even $100,000. It sounds a bit cold because I am finding Billie is the best canvas; my finest script. But like any artist one day you have to consider someone will buy your painting and perhaps fall more deeply involved then you did creating it. "Billie it's time. Kneel," I whispered my finger pointing to between my knees. She – Her story Weeks have passed since the first time I knelt in front of Chopper and he lowered his briefs. I was immensely nervous and the smell intensified the feelings of anticipation, fear and the crossing one boundary into another. Of course his cock is really a cock. Oh it's not some monster you read about but it thick and manly with veins filled with his blood. He's not circumcised nor am I. Funny part is mine is so small Chopper said it looks like a clit when I'm soft. Chopper sat at the end of the chair his balls dangling and cock hanging down until I touched it. He told me I should always look. Never close my eyes. And when a cock is in your mouth look up into the eyes of the man who is rewarding you. (OK – this will need another chapter or so and I'm sorry to say I'm not sure how long it will take to get to this since I've promised to finish a couple of my other stories. But I want you all to know there will be an ending to this one. Often I don't like completing them since then the imagination allows for eternity and thoughts unsaid. But I will finish this within the next three months. I want to thank everyone for the wonderful response to part 1 and I hope I've kept you all happy in part 2. I have an exciting ending coming up for this, which hopefully will satisfy most. Oh and not to worry I'll still be writing XXX stories as well.) He To She Ch. 03 (Authoress Note: All disclaimers regarding characters, age appropriateness etc are in effect. I really advise anyone under 21 not to read my stories. It takes a certain degree of maturity to enjoy my writings without recriminations. Don't write a review if you don't like the theme of the story. That's just childish. But criticism is always good and helps me.) Below is Part 3. The first couple of paragraphs are repeated in Part 2 She – Her story Weeks have passed since the first time I knelt in front of Chopper and he lowered his briefs. I was immensely nervous and the smell intensified the feelings of anticipation, fear and the crossing one boundary into another. Of course his cock is really a cock. Oh it's not some monster you read about but it thick and manly with veins filled with his blood. He's not circumcised nor am I. Funny part is mine is so small Chopper said it looks like a clit when I'm soft. Chopper sat at the end of the chair his balls dangling and cock hanging down until I touched it. He told me I should always look. "Never close your eyes. And when a cock is in your mouth look up into the eyes of the man who is rewarding you." And I didn't close my eyes I looked at his manhood surrounded by a pubic forest, which made my own hairless genitals feel environmentally denuded. Magnificent is the word coming to mind to describe Chopper's. Even the surrounding area, his massive thighs, made me quiver. But what may surprise you is Chopper didn't let me suck him off that time. Oh no, he had me kiss his pee rod and lick his balls and look closely as his erection lifted like a crane over a superstructure. "Soon but not yet," Chopper stated as he just as quickly stood, pulling up his jockeys and instructing me to go get dressed in my little black dress. "No apron Billie," he said. "And make yourself pretty. I was so shocked since I thought this was going to be my true crossing over but as always I obeyed Chopper as if his words were biblical. Doing my best I applied fresh makeup and the little black evening dress, black sheer stockings and a beautiful pair of stiletto heels. A spritz of perfume completed the rest of me. Nails were perfect since I had just had them done. I had gone with a dark forest green thinking of the winter ahead. My earrings surrounded by my long hair with fabulous highlights. When I looked in the mirror the only boy thing I would notice was my small Adams apple. I wanted it gone. As mentioned before I no longer cared when I was at work and no one said anything negative to me in the neighborhood. My job was stocker/cashier at an artist supply house aptly named Impressionistic. Aptly I say because not only did it connote artistic endeavors but everyone who worked there was pretty weird. There was Bob, the manager, with his titanium nose ring and blue Mohawk plus black fingernail polish. Then we had Mary who looked like a cross between Lindsay Lohan on a bad crack high and Molly Ringwald. I don't need to introduce you to the rest of "The Breakfast Club" do I? And our little group didn't have a cutie like Emilio Estevez. Anyhow, my going to work with hair in a ponytail and painted nails only made me fit in. Except for the time Mary noticed I hadn't gotten all my lipstick off. She commented on it saying, "You forgot to wipe after you swallowed." To which I replied, "Fuck off." I mean, please, I think my exploration in the deep end was probably the shallow end for the others. Oh well, I've meandered way too much. Standing in front of the mirror I thought how much my life had changed and how much I wished I had tits. But then again there are plenty of A cups in real girl land. Actually I'm thankful I look pretty all dolled up and wonder what would some boigirl stuck inside a big burly man body with a brain like mine think about when they get dressed. I was lucky I had the right body for my hidden secret to glow when exposed. "Hey Billie are you almost ready," the deep male voice of Chopper's echoed from the living room. After all my lessons I know my voice though not soprano definitely can pass. "Be right there," I answered in my sultry studied voice taking one more glimpse as I exited the bedroom. Chopper's eyes said it all. I knew he found me beautiful. Listen I'm not dumb just different. That night was a big surprise. Chopper asked me if I'd be willing to go out for dinner with him. Well, he didn't ask what he said was, "Let's go out for dinner." Months of hard work would be tested amongst the throngs but in a way I was ready. I had thought about passing and so we left his home walking the opposite way from my apartment. Regardless of the dingy neighborhood I felt safe when Chopper took my hand as we walked I felt secure. I had never wandered this way and after two blocks my heels were killing me. Suddenly we turned the corner and there was a small Italian restaurant sitting in the middle of a vacant lot. "Angelo's has been here for decades," Chopper said. "It's not swank but the food is good and they get a great crowd. I want you to relax and simply be the beautiful woman you are. A girl like you must be able to socialize as well as look pretty." Butterflies swarmed in my stomach as he opened the glass door for me and we entered into a place right out an old movie set. In its day the restaurant was probably chic but time had worn away at her lush red leather banquets and the carpet's past was thankfully obscured by the low level of light emanating from the old incandescent light fixtures hanging like sad translucent flowers. Angelo's she was named but she was a beautiful woman who had aged and needed cosmetic surgery. The oddity of the thought didn't pass over me. The maitre'd stand was unattended as if the restaurants' husband had left to watch the basketball game on the flat screen TV above the bar but in fact there was no maitre'd so Chopper just ushered us to a booth. Angelo's was quite busy with nearly all the tables occupied. As we walked back I could sense the various men I passed looking at my legs. Instead of feeling flustered I walked even more femininely with my wrist limp and little pocketbook dangling from the crook of my arm. I had spent so much time in heels over the past months, even wore them at home for practice, I knew I would pass the hazy test of men's eyes in a dark restaurant but still I was nervous. When a man's gaze smiled into my eyes I returned the smile with a small crook of my painted lips. But when the women looked at me I was the most nervous. I felt they could see through my disguise. They saw Billy not Billie. As if Chopper knew how insecure I felt when the women viewed me he told me none of them knew but instead they were just jealous of my beauty and grace. Those simple words brought confidence out and pushed my insecurity into a place as dark as the corners of Angelo's. Once seated Chopper explained the feelings I had would never go away since there was a truth I could never deny. But, he said, "When you learn to relish the special girl you are you will only feel insecure with the most catty of women." "Men will want to get you naked. Touch your body. Revel in your scent. Most will not care the shape or size of your clit or that you have two holes not three. Women on the other hand will judge you. Many harshly. Some will be worse since they will feel both threatened and your obvious competition for the small amount of men available to them." When the waiter came to our table Chopper asked me what I wanted to drink. A parched moment of fear caught in my throat but having trained so long at female speak my words managed to come out in a throaty voice reminiscent of Kathleen Turner in "Who Framed Roger Rabbit." I ordered my White Russian and the waiter said, "A very good choice ma'am." I relaxed again when he said that and the line from the movie, "I'm not bad; I'm drawn that way," brought a giggle out of me as I looked into Chopper's eyes uttering that famous line. It made Chopper guffaw. "You are a natural Billie," he said as we waited for our cocktails. I've often thought the word 'cocktail,' came from the sex which inebriation brought on. "Cock" and "Tail" go together like a "Horse" and "Carriage." Here I was out. And I mean "OUT" with all the shouts and capital letters. If you could picture the cartoon caption above my head the OUT would have looked a lot like "POW" with connecting triangles of colored comic book flare. He – His Story Billie embraced her feminism with the anguish with the gusto of a ravenous swan. Over time her confidence grew so strong she not only enjoyed socializing but with a relish I couldn't even fathom. Teaching her to become was bringing me great pleasure. My thoughts of selling her would also imagine me keeping her. But I was training her for greatness and she was my precocious pupil. She was, "My Fair Lady," and I was playing the pornographic part of Rex Harrison. Now what I'm about to tell you may shock you but Billie had to learn the unique path of how to please a Dom of the persuasion for a girl like her. I wanted her to be more then desired. I wanted her to be the woman men dream about and not the housewife they usually come to accept. Most men lose their lion long before the winter of their lives. They acquiesce to the daily life of a mate. A cow they breed with and then go off to sit in the leather recliner dreaming of someone like Billie. They watch porn with beautiful women who seem to enjoy being used but are actually happier earning the cash paid for their acting. How many porn movies have you seen where the girl is more interested in the camera lens then the penis in front of them. So it came to pass the first time Billie sucked a cock. It was just a week after we had gone to Angelo's. A dinner date Billie would often talk about. She once confided in me how she had no idea her hidden secret also contained a Garden of Eden. For Billie going out for dinner, carefully eating her food off the fork so as to not muss her lipstick had been one of the delights she had found in this garden. For her, part of her garden of flowers was 'going out and passing.' Anyhow, the first time for her was not the first time for me and I was still applying my brush to the canvass. That night I taught her one of the delights men found exhilarating and often women found debasing. I explained, for her, nothing was debasing if she could make a man exhilarated. Remember, as her trainer, I was in charge of making her into what she would become but you can't hypnotize someone into joy but you can gently lead him or her there. As Dorothy Parker once said when playing a word game and the word horticulture came up, "You can lead a whore to culture but you can't make her think." Well I could lead Billie to more then she thought. But just as importantly I could mold Billie into someone dominant men like me would crave. That particular night Billie was wearing her schoolgirl outfit. I had explained to her how her desires had to be subjugated to the wants of the man. But knowing what was expected would be fine-tuning and repetitive practice. So this night she was kneeling again in front of me slowly pulling my briefs down exposing my semi-erection. I stood in the kitchen since I thought this would be the best room to start. It was where she had learned her chores of womanhood and thus the best setting for domination. Before she touched my cock and balls Billie rubbed her hands together warming them as instructed. I smiled at her brown with flecks of gold eyes looking up with innocent approval. Another learned technique. Cupping my balls in her warm fingers she sniffed, looked and then again raised her eyes for permission. Once given she licked the head rolling her tongue ever wet, warm and sensuous. She was in her element. On her knees as she so desired unknowingly the time we had met in Jake's bar. I had taught her well. No guy needs a hand job. They can do those themselves. They need a docile elegant slut with the knowledge and desire to please a man. As my cock hardened her tongue searched the entire shaft as if she was licking an ice cream saving the tip for last. In time she'd learn how to complete the pleasure but this first time I took my cock in my own hand to build to my orgasm, her face a canvas waiting for the warm paint of my cum to flood over it indelibly. Her first man seed would remain a vibrant memory forever. Looking down at her I felt the jism in my balls boil up until it reached the release valve shooting out of my cock. First came the wet pre-lube and then came the explosion of thick salty gobs of cum streaming over her face. Some I aimed into her nostrils. Some over the bridge of her nose. One burst so strong it shot up over her face and into her hair. As per training she softly sighed and then licked my cockhead clean. She was the best student a teacher could ever have. And again as we had discussed she licked my balls and shaft, pulled up my briefs and stood with my jism covering her face knowing she would not remove it until given permission. There are many reasons for having this rule. Obviously one is because it puts power where it belongs, in the Dom. Another is so instead of cleaning the shame off themselves they learn to acquire a taste for the smell, texture, debasement and denigration. But also it serves two other purposes. The first was as she stood she would find out if the man wanted to see her orgasm. And tonight I did so I reached under her little plaid skirt and rubbed her clitty with my open palm while she stood there dripping, smelling, and feeling my load. Billie was fabulous. Before long her tiny penie rose to it's full shrinker and spurt her little load into her panties as she moaned and cooed as taught. She sighed again. But the chief reason for the rule of never wiping yourself without permission is the pleasure your Dom gets from seeing his sub stand or kneel marked as territory. Watching her there with a little puddle in her panties covered with man juice sticking to her face reinforced a power I had come to enjoy long ago. "Billie, now clean up the house but not yourself and when you are through come back," I said. Billie was a good girl she cleaned up the house as my cum dried on his skin. Sort of like crazy glue man seed. When she returned about an hour later she was smiling. We talked awhile and she explained her little orgasm was the best she'd ever had. Turns out she had a second one without even touching herself as she cleaned. What a girl. She – Her Story I know some of you can't understand why I am the way I am. Many would probably condemn me but I have never hurt anyone. Before Chopper had shown me my hidden place was not a horrible nightmare but more of a calling I was ashamed of my thoughts. Now, even when I feel degradation I feel satisfied. Chopper has never forced me to do anything except share my thoughts and help me realize them. What's the wrong in that? And as much as I am a girl I am still physically a boy. Not a man but not a woman except in my mannerisms. Time has passed not as a dream but an interesting reality. Chopper seems to bring a flashlight into my soul and show me a mysterious corner. Once I see it I know it's mine. Since the first time I sucked Chopper's cock many other revelations have come about. I've learned how to suck cock, well at least Chopper's, in such a way I know how and when he's about to orgasm. That in itself is a power I've become proficient in. Now I have a wardrobe Chopper has assembled for me. At times he'll call me to the computer to see something he thinks I should wear and then he orders it. I'm not sure how Chopper gets his money because I know he's not rich. Some catty girl would probably try to follow Chopper and see where he goes but I have no need to do that. I trust him and I know a man needs his own space. Whatever the space may be it isn't to be judged nor demand knowledge of. Unlike so many shows I've watched, Chopper has me watch, Lifetime, Oxygen and the O Network, so I can study womanhood. However, whatever I am I am not jealous, catty or conniving. Instead I'm there three days a week for about four hours at a time. Two visits were cancelled when Chopper got a cold. I asked if he wanted me to come over and tend to him but he said, "No." A short time ago after I had learned not only to suck him off and either let his cum dry on my face or hold it on my tongue until given permission to swallow, Chopper brought up spanking again. Of course I had thought about it I told him. Didn't I want him to spank me he said as if I had no choice, which of course I'm not sure what is my choice would be versus my desire! "Yes Chopper," I had answered honestly as I stood there in my new outfit. I had actually watched Chopper pick this out on line at Wet Seal for me. We could buy a whole outfit there for less then $100. It was chiffon belted tiered dress in a dark smoky blue. I had on bangles and blue plastic earrings. Did I tell you I had my ears pierced? I just did it one day and at work I wore fake diamond studs but at Choppers I now had several pair of pierced earrings. Ha, I was building a jewelry collection. "But I don't want to be hurt," I pleaded with my eyes. Chopper said he'd never hurt me so when he told me to come over and stand to the side in front of him I did it. I shivered while he lifted the back of my dress up exposing my painted leopard blue trimmed boy shorts (oh we had picked out the striped laced bra to match so I had both bra straps showing with the dress straps. How slutty is that?) He rubbed my ass gently and then slapped both cheeks hard with his hand. Just one slap on each yet the sting felt stinging and penetrating and then he let my skirt slide over my warm bottom. "Wasn't that the way you imagined it would feel," he asked? I don't know what I imagined but the sensation was both shameful and erotic. My clitty hardened a bit as I stood there while Chopper explained he had seen this in another corner of my hidden secret. "When you are being spanked Billie should you sob and cry or be stoic or scream?" The answer had already been given. I knew from then on what I would be expected of me if I was spanked. And so the many spankings I've had since I have found myself lost in sobbing or crying but never silence or screaming. Chopper often wouldn't tell me why he was going to spank me. Sometimes he'd just spank each cheek once but he never spanked them more then ten times, just enough to elicit a more submissive me. And since I wore the butt plug nearly always walking was even more accentuated afterwards. I would ponder what I may have done wrong but Chopper had already told me the first time I asked he would never explain. Instead it was up to me to think and try harder to be the good girl he knew I wanted to be. He – His Story Now those of you who remember the Billy in the bar would be most surprised by the Billie she's become. She's a bit of a daredevil for such a submissive. It had snowed Saturday so we hadn't gotten together. Billie called me Sunday after the snow melted. (Atlanta can snow one day and be gone the next especially in mid December). I told her she could come but I'd have some friends coming to watch Sunday football in about two hours. "If you come you'd be expected to serve the guys but no sex." Hey I wasn't about to ask if she wanted to. She had a simple choice, yes or no. Guess what she decided? Billie had certainly grown up. I didn't have to go get her and she came over wearing an outfit she had bought for herself. I had never seen it but I did approve. Perfect for a Sunday football game. Can you guess? Ah, you already did. Right it was a very sexy cheerleading outfit. She had sure taken the initiative. It was an adult cheerleading outfit. That doesn't mean it was a piece of trash. No Billie had taste. The only difference really was the skirt didn't have a built in shorts part so she had to wear panties and instead of regular sneakers she had found a white pair with heels. The socks she wore popped out of the top of the sneaker heels with a lacy white and maroon matching the black, maroon and white dress she was wearing. She had tied her hair into a long ponytail and she had definitely worn breast pads under the dress. He To She Ch. 03 I knew she was thinking about tits. All girls worry about that. But we hadn't come to where breast implants had come up yet. But knowing Billie she was definitely getting girlier everyday. I wondered where her limit was. So far none of the girls I had trained had ever become transsexuals. You may think that's the conclusive step the deeper they go but you'd be wrong. Many reasons enter into not having the operation. The fear of an operation. The expense of an operation. Many times simply they wanted to remain boigirls. Some of the transsexuals I've met have major depression after the operation. So I'm sure even that enters into their thoughts. "Do you like it," Billie cooed as she twirled around her white satin panties showing but her gender tucked into a hidden place almost as hidden as her thoughts were just months ago. For the next ten minutes we discussed what would be expected of her. She was to smile and be quiet during the game except for when she was serving. Curtseying and 'yes sir' were to be her replies as well as thank you. She had been well trained these past months in service for me. She wanted to know if the guys know her secret. I told her I hadn't told anyone but in a way that was a lie. Although none of the guys knew she was going to be there four of six guys who said they'd be over were also into the same kink as me. Two of them had bought girls from me. So they may not know but they would definitely figure it out. The other couple of guys would be interesting to see how well Billie could conceal her physical gender. I explained to her under no case was she to say anything about the boy underneath. If she failed she be punished and rewarded if she succeeded. I didn't elaborate. Billie tidied up the house as the noon hour approached. Falcons vs GreenBay. Billie vs The Men She – Her Story Surely you are wondering why I ever said I'd come over. Remember I had passed a couple of times when Chopper and I went out for dinner. This would be a test of all I had learned. Also I was interested in how I'd feel around other men. And since Chopper had promised no sex what was I to be worried about. Chopper also didn't know I had gathered a bit of a wardrobe at home but after he saw me in the cheerleading outfit he asked me if I had other clothes and I answered, "But of course!" (to be continued) He To She This goes for both boys and girls but it's the ones like Billie that can be the most interesting. Sometimes their hidden little place has dreams of fantasy that should never be a reality. As much as fantasizing about a rape can be tantalizing it's really not a good thing at all. It will never fulfill a dream. There are some fantasies others do recreate in reality that I have no part in. Fantasies of bestiality, brutality, scat holds no court in my passion. However, I do enjoy the pleasures of spankings, bondage, transformations and other sports. "Chopper," Billie said as her doe eyes looked up at me almost pleading me to come take her from her hidden spot. "Yes Billie," I replied. "What about my clothes?" We walked from the bedroom to the kitchen. There on the floor were the tomato juice stained clothing sitting in a pile as if someone had been murdered and their body vaporized leaving only blood, clothing and shards of broken glass. Okay tomato juice doesn't look like blood but you know how much I see things like a movie. I was hoping this was the metamorphosis of Billie from wimpy boy to submissive toy. "Billie the washing machine is on the back porch," I said, "and I'm sorry I don't really know how to operate it. I have a friend come over every week and she does it for me." Was Billie already there? She motioned for me to go watch TV and she'd figure it out. She even bent over like a girl doing a deep knee bend instead of just bending over ass high her feet just outside the glass and tomato juice. Oh how nice her toes looked and a sweet pedicure would be perfect. I went to the living room. You may want to call it the 'over-lived-in room' sat down waiting for Billie. This was her time. A few minutes later I heard the washing machine begin it's cycle and then Billie puttering around a bit in the kitchen. I could also hear the shards of glass clinking as she swept them up. I stood up. Best to approach a subject like this on high ground. She walked barefoot into the room. I could see how pretty her nails could be with a bit of color. Her toes and feet looked like a pedicure photo before shot at a nail parlor. I bet she does get pedicures. "Billie let's talk. Sit down on the sofa," I said in a mild authoritative voice. "What's up Chopper?" she asked inquisitively as she went to the sofa and sat down. Such a good girl I thought as I sat down again and turned my chair to face her. I could see her panties. She hadn't completely gone girly unless she was slut material. Too soon to tell. "Just hear me out Billie. No protestations while I talk. When I'm done I will let you tell me what you think." I began with a rhetorical question and answered it before Billie said a word. "You know we all have a secret spot in our mind where we go and play. Some thoughts are formulated by the news of the day. Like when some world leader pisses on the USA I sometimes go there in my mind and imagine I'd do hand to hand combat with him." This was not the kind of thought Billie would have but I wanted to instill my power position before we got down to brass tacks. "Billie you have a secret place. Don't you?" And before Billie said a word I began the deeper explanation of this hidden sexual playground. I had to shush Billie a couple of times while I exposed her hidden garden. I told her it was safe with me and I would be glad to enjoy the exploration with her if she was honest and sincere. At first, when I was done, Billie tried to cover her tracks to her hidden home. But as I reassured her and we talked further Billie began to open up. When she talked about having dressed up as a girl she also was quick to say she wasn't gay. I explained to her girls like her weren't gay. In fact this split personality was a product of both intellect and learned experience. During the hour we talked I didn't bring up sex. It was way to early to dig into the deepest part of her mind. "Billie would you like me to give you an opportunity to unlock your hidden palace and test your mind in reality?" She was hesitant at first but answered haltingly, "yyyyyees." Billie had kept this so bottled up inside her that once she started talking about it she couldn't stop. She said many reasons she wanted to find the she in her; some went back to her earliest childhood days. Others came from high school and continued. But she said, "I've never done anything but try on panties." And so it all began. I told her we would try our experiment out here at my place and if she trusted me I would lead her to sublimation. I stood up and walked over to where she was sitting and sat next to her. I saw her eyes gaze at my sack which filled my briefs but that was just a clue to perhaps her deeper desires. We wouldn't go there till we had passed many other hurdles first. If you remember I mentioned I was an artist at this. I loved the caterpillar to butterfly as if it were my hand unwrapping the cocoon. But, having done this before I was much accomplished in all aspects of the transformation including patience. "Okay Billie why don't we plan to meet three times a week here instead of the bar for a few hours. I will not do anything you don't want me to." We sat back. I turned on a romantic comedy, "Fifty First Dates," and waited for her clothes to be dry. I did ask her if she had a preferential type girl she dreamed of being. She said the schoolgirl or the maid. "Those are both great thoughts," I said, "leave it to me. I'll surprise you with one of those two as an outfit when we next meet." I also explained how I would need her measurements so I could order appropriate wear and finally when she was here I would only treat her as a female but never expose her outside this house unless she asked me to. I informed her, her name in the house was Billie spelled with an ie and not a y. Billie asked only one thing. Would I pick her up at her apartment since she was scared to walk over alone? Of course I would oblige. What she didn't know was I would call the hoods and telling them to disappear, at least for the time being so there was nothing to fear. Below is the start of the second part of the story. Depending on the response I will finish it. SHE – Her story Well Hi, I'm Billie. Chopper wanted me to write this part. I won't bore you with all the details of the past weeks. Yes I'm aware now of how Chopper coaxed Billie out of Billy but at the same time I know she was in me all the time. From the first moment I saw Chopper in the bar I twitched inside and felt his testosterone as a powerful drug to my psyche. I didn't know where I was going but I did feel subliminal feelings especially the time I was in the bathroom and he came in. Just having Chopper stand next to me seeing his pee rod in comparison to mine was breathtaking. Of course I had seen other men at urinals with their dicks out all were bigger then my stub. It was just for some reason Chopper exuded more male producing an intoxicating desire in me.