Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 From goodstory@earthlink.net Sun Jan 12 12:01:13 1997 Newsgroups:
alt.sex.stories.tg,alt.sex.stories Subject: TG Archive;'Sylvias's
Slave'{Ruth White}[ TG, forced fem,humil,bdsm,castr,F^m ](1!1)
From: barkan <goodstory@earthlink.net>
Date: Sun, 12 Jan 1997 09:01:13 -0800

   Back in 1994 this awesome TG story circulated.  It is one of the top 10
stories out of over 610 TG stories that I have seen!  I place it in the top
10 because I am only interested in stories that deal with FORCED COMPLETE
feminization.  I think Non consenting forced fem is erotic, but of the
hundreds of TG sex stories few end up with complete transformation, and
fewer do so by force against will.  Some are unbelievable and rely on magic
or unlikely future technologies.  Others only involve only crotch changes.
There are very very few non consenting forced feminization stories.  I
think forced fem from 1st person instead of 3rd person is the most erotic
type.

   Here's a list of good forced feminization stories I have seen, I may
have missed some.

   The Guinea Pig - The best story ever written regarding forced complete
feminization Sylvia's Slave, Ruth White - The second best story ever
written regarding same topic Ani Chan, Bill Eastburn - Nice but short.  Has
one of the most shocking revelation scenes Evolution - Very good.  Involves
unlikely future technology.  Great urination scenes. The Circus, She Devil
- poor because only is last page shown real transformation made The
Transformation of Ken & Elizabeth Ann - poor because not first person and
too short I got the DD's - Not perfect because it is a typical magic
transformation of two bodies Mistress Ishtar, Zaku Eins - Not perfect
because involves unlikely future technology What Comes Around - Not 1st
person, too short, not erotic, witchcraft Joe Bates Saga - Very nice but
not forced feminization.  Has tons of good pee descriptions The Rodeo,
Waldo - OK but Not forced feminization, self induced after mutilation
Superman, Waldo - OK but is a comic book story and involves unlikely future
technology

   I did not write Sylvias's Slave don't email me. ==================== TG
Archive;'Sylvias's Slave'{Ruth White}[ TG, forced fem,humil,bdsm,castr,F^m
](1!1) ==================== Message-ID: <031302Z26071994@anon.penet.fi>
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news.delphi.com!uunet!cs.utexas.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!EU.net!news.eune
t.fi!anon.penet.fi
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: an99211@anon.penet.fi
X-Anonymously-To: alt.sex.stories
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Reply-To: an99211@anon.penet.fi
Date: Tue, 26 Jul 1994 03:05:43 UTC
Subject: TSYLVIA#.TXT
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   The following is a story of a man who is held and turned into a woman
against his will. Enjoy





   SYLVIA'S SLAVE

   by

   Ruth White



   PREFACE



   The story which you are about to read may, at times, seem quite
preposterous.  I have often wished that it was an episode of a nightmare or
something, but I assure you that it is not.  Why, you may ask, have I
written this account?  I have done so on the explicit instructions of my
mistress who hopes that in the recounting of my ordeal I will once again
relive all the shame, humiliation, and agony I originally suffered.  It is
her intent that, in the process of doing the telling of my story that I may
come to more fully realize and accept what I am, her slave, or to be
precise, her slave-girl.



   CHAPTER 1



   I shall never forget the first time I set eyes upon Sylvia Graham; I was
outside the unemployment office in Monterey waiting to see my counselor. 
There was a bunch of us shooting the breeze and horsing around when, all of
a sudden, up pulls this long limousine.  We all shut up and stared, I mean
this wasn't how your average person arrives at the unemployment office. 
Before our disbelieving eyes, a chauffeur got out and opened the door for
this tasty babe.  She was tall, blonde, and dressed all in black; from her
shoes to the tiny veil on her head.  She exited the car and walked towards
the building.

   As she passed my buddy Mike questioned me, "What does a babe like that
needs with the unemployment office?"

   I answered that, "It looks to me like she needs some good hard cock. 
Maybe she's here to hire a stud."

   My buddies found my remark hilarious, but it was obvious that the lady
in question had overheard my remark, because she stopped and glared at me
for a moment or two before walking on in.

   ******

   I finally got in, only to be chewed out by Mrs.  Jackson, my counselor.

   "What are we going to do with you Bill?  With your appearance and
attitude no one will ever hire you.  Your unemployment runs out in two
weeks, then what will you do?"

   I wasn't in the mood for this so I just told her, "I'll get a job and
keep it long enough to get back on unemployment."

   She glowered at me.

   "Against my better judgment William I am going to offer you a job which
has just been listed with us.  The pay isn't bad and the work shouldn't be
too hard.  You'll be doing yard work and handyman stuff.  Oh, by the way,
if you refuse the job you're off unemployment immediately.  What do you
say? Take it or leave it."

   What choice did I have?  I took it.

   ******

   The address I was given was way out in Carmel Valley.  I rode the bus
out as far as I could and walked the rest of the way.  I saw a mailbox by
the side of the road with GRAHAM painted on it; this was the place.  I
walked on in.  What a spread it was, with lots of wide open space.  I got
to the door and rang the bell.  It was opened by an older woman in a black
dress.

   "Hi.  My name's Bill Adams and the unemployment office sent me to see
about the handyman job."

   "Hello.  I am Mrs.  Hudson the housekeeper.  You'll need to speak with
Mrs.  Graham.  Please come in and follow me."

   She led me into the huge house.  I was amazed at the luxury in which I
found myself; the Graham's were obviously loaded.  I followed the old lady
into a sitting room, only to find there the lady I had encountered earlier
outside the unemployment office.  I thought to myself, "Shit!  There goes
this job."

   "Mrs.  Graham I have here a Mr.  Adams who has come to see you about a
job."

   "Thank you Mrs.  Hudson.  You may leave us."

   "Look, uh ...  Mrs.  Graham, I'm really sorry about this morning."

   "Think nothing of it, I didn't."

   ******

   Sylvia Graham was real cold and snooty to boot, but I kissed her ass and
got the job anyway.  It turned out to be really great.  I was given a
studio apartment over the garage, next door to the one where the chauffeur
lived.  I got my meals for free with the help in the kitchen and Sundays
off.  I found out that Mr.  Graham had passed away recently and I had been
hired to do the work that he used to do himself; gardening, yard work,
maintenance on the house, and anything else that needed doing.  Life seemed
too good to be true.

   It was.

   ******

   I was bored.  There isn't a whole lot to do in Carmel Valley.  I didn't
have a car, but I had plenty of money, so most nights and weekends were
spent drinking in my apartment and looking at magazines.  I really liked
the ones that featured girls with big hooters.  I won't deny that I liked
to look at the "D-cuppers", as I called them, and jerk off; big tits have
always been an incredible turn on for me.  It was the drinking that got me
into trouble, as it often had before.

   That's how I had wound up were I was; on the streets, uneducated, and
unemployed at twenty-one.  My dad had died when I was young and my mother
never even tried to control me after that.  I was expelled from school
because of my involvement with drugs and alcohol.  Nothing much else
happened to me until one night they told me that I had raped a neighbor
girl.  I was drunk and don't remember a thing about it.  I drew a suspended
sentence contingent on completing drug and alcohol treatment.

   I went through the treatment center but nothing changed, except that now
I had a criminal record and was truly unemployable.  With no better
prospects I hit the road, wandering around California, working at odd and
seasonal jobs, and drinking, until I wound up in Monterey.

   ******

   It was a quiet Sunday afternoon and the more I drank, the more I became
resentful of Sylvia Graham.  She was rich, beautiful, and, as I had found
out, a lesbian.  She had a tall, dark-haired, good looking chick named
Julie living with her.  I didn't figure it out right away, I mean neither
looked or acted like a dyke.  They were both feminine, pretty, and wore
make-up and dresses.  I had no idea what was going on between them until
one day I was raking the lawn by the window to Sylvia's study.  I happened
to glance in and saw Sylvia.

   She was naked!

   I moved closer to get a better look.  I saw that Sylvia was sitting back
in a chair with her eyes closed.  As I got closer the entire scene was
revealed to me; Julie was also naked, on her knees, with her head between
Sylvia's legs, eating her out.

   This was too much.  I felt myself getting turned on watching these two
good looking chicks go at it.  Sylvia glanced up and happened to see me
staring at them.  To my surprise she just laughed and said something to
Julie, who looked up and laughed also.  Red-faced and embarrassed I got
back to work.  Evidently those two didn't care who knew what they were up
to because they never mentioned the incident to me; then or later.

   I don't remember much of what they said I did, that day when my troubles
started.  I was laying around drinking some brews and feeling horny and
lonely, but as I drank I became angry.  Angry at those two bitches, Julie
and Sylvia, who had everything I wanted, especially each other.  Sylvia was
out and I knew that Julie was home by herself.

   Somehow I convinced myself that all she needed to be sociable was a good
hard fuck, and that I was just the man to give it to her.

   ******

   The story as I heard it later was that Sylvia came home and heard Julie
screaming.  She ran upstairs to find me struggling with her in their bed.
Reaching for the nearest object, she grabbed a heavy lamp and cracked it
over my head.

   I came to, face down on the floor, and found myself handcuffed.  "Oh
shit," I thought, "am I in trouble now."

   "He's awake now, sheriff."

   My arms were grabbed and I was pulled to a standing position.  There was
a cop and Sylvia standing there.  I was read my rights and asked if I
wanted to make a statement.

   "I don't remember anything," was all that I could blurt out.

   The cop told me.  "You are facing some serious charges here young man.
I'd say about ten years in state prison."

   I was scared, but I wasn't stupid.  I'd been around and knew that in
California, that if I went up for rape, I'd only draw one to four years max
on my first conviction as an adult.

   The cop went on.  "I know what you're thinking.  That rape really isn't
a serious beef, but using that gun made it one.  Kidnapping under special
circumstances; that's ten years minimum, mandatory."

   "What gun?  I didn't have a gun."

   "That's not what Mrs.  Graham said, and I found this on the floor."

   He held up a little black automatic pistol.  I'd never seen it before.
Hell, I'd never touched a gun in my life.  I knew now that I was being
framed, but I also realized that I was in deep shit now.  Who would ever
believe me?

   Sylvia said, "Bud, perhaps we can handle this our own way."

   I looked at her.  What was she talking about.  She went on "Perhaps Mr.
Adams would prefer to take his chances with The Committee?"

   I looked at her.  "What's the committee?"

   "It's the Citizen's Justice Committee.  A bunch of us in the valley here
are fed up with the way the criminal justice system works.  The victims are
punished and the guilty are treated like royalty.  What we do is offer
criminals an alternative and a chance at some real rehabilitation.  You'd
serve a sentence here in the valley.  You'd stay here, get trained in a
skill, and then serve out your term here working for your victim.  In this
case Julie and me."

   "You mean that I wouldn't have to go to court or prison?"

   "Well, you would have to go before the committee, but I can guarantee
that you'd do less than ten years."

   I looked at cop.  "Is she for real?"

   I didn't know it at the time, I might have been more suspicious if I
had, but that wasn't just any cop or deputy.  It was the sheriff himself.
What was he doing out on a call in person in the middle of the night?  What
sheriff ever went out on calls himself?

   He nodded to me.  "Yep son.  It's the only way your gonna get out of a
lot of hard time."

   "O.K.  I'll do it."



   CHAPTER 2



   I stood in Sylvia's living room facing a group of men and women.  Sylvia
and Julie were there, the sheriff, a man named Alan Martin who I found out
later was a local judge, and some other people whose names and positions I
never did discover.

   "William Adams.  How do you plead to the charges lodged against you?"

   "Guilty, sir."

   "Do you have anything to say in your behalf?"

   "No sir." I'd been told what to say.

   "Then it is the decision of this committee that you be remanded to the
custody of Sylvia Graham to undergo rehabilitative servitude for a period
of not less than five years.  Mrs.  Graham you may take custody of him
now."

   Sylvia led me out to the kitchen.

   "We might as well get started right now Bill.  Here, drink this."

   I took the offered glass and swallowed it.  It was pretty vile.  I
gagged, but managed to keep it down.

   "I want you to know that I have a lot of ideas on how to rehabilitate
you Bill, but there is one thing which you must always remember.  I am in
complete charge of you now.  If you resist, your punishment will get worse.
Can you remember that?  It will always get worse.  I guarantee it!"

   That was all I remembered.

   ************

   I slowly came to with a splitting headache.  Whatever it was that Sylvia
had slipped me sure left a hurting on me.  I discovered myself gagged and
restrained.  It took me a minute to realize that my head wasn't the only
thing hurting.  My body hurt and I noticed that my ass felt sore.  I had no
track of time as I lay there unable to move or make a sound.  Finally
Sylvia came in.

   "Good morning Billie.  Ready to start a your first day in
rehabilitation?"

   All I could do was shake my head.  She removed the gag from my mouth.  I
worked my jaws to get some of the stiffness out.  Sylvia untied my hands. I
looked down to see something black wrapped tightly around my waist.  Then I
noticed that I had no hair.  My arms, legs, chest were all bare.

   "What the hell have you done to me?"

   "Why we've started your rehabilitation Billie.  Your basic problem, as
indicated by your record, is a lack of respect for women.  It is therefore
my intention that, while you are in my custody, you be forced to dress and
appear as a woman, in the hope that in addition to punishing you, we may
cure your attitude about women by making you respect how they have to
live."

   "What?"

   "You're in the Twilight Zone Billie.  I have taken control of your life.
You will do what I tell you to do when I tell you to do it.  Feel something
in your ass?  It's a butt-plug.  I have even taken control over your bodily
functions.  If I say 'SHIT!' You'd better say yes ma'am, and ask me how
much and where I want it put."

   I looked down at the black thing around my waist.  From the front of it,
a piece stretched down between my legs, covering my crotch.  I could see no
sign of my cock.

   "That's a corset you've got on Billie.  You will be wearing one all the
time during your stay here.  Let's get up and get going.  The day's wasting
away and you've got your new job to be learning."

   "Which is?" I asked.

   "Well I have to get some use out of you so you're going to be trained to
take over as my housekeeper for when Mrs.  Hudson retires."

   "I can't be a housekeeper."

   "Why not Billie?"

   "Well, I'm a man."

   "That's not an insurmountable problem.  Let's go."

   I followed her into the bathroom.  It was obvious that the tub was where
my hair had been removed; there were hairs all over it.

   "Cleaning that tub out is going to be one of your first jobs Billie. 
Now turn around."

   I did, and could feel Sylvia untying my corset.  It loosened up and I
could feel the pressure on my ribs ease up.  I took a deep breath.  The
strap between my legs fell down when Sylvia released it and I looked to see
my cock still stuck up between my legs.  It seems that my balls were
somehow pushed up into my body, then my cock was pulled back.  Over it was
pulled the strap which was then cinched tight which flattened everything,
leaving no indication of my sex.

   "Bend over Billie."

   I felt Sylvia tugging on whatever it was in my ass.  I guess I'd gotten
used to having it in me, but it sure hurt as she withdrew it.  Now I'd seen
butt plugs in adult stores and wasn't thrilled to have one in me.  It was
made of rubber and cone shaped so it wouldn't slide out.  Trust Sylvia to
go one step further.

   "Here Billie wash this off while you're in the shower."

   What Sylvia held out to me was a butt plug shaped like a big cock.

   "Do I really have to keep that in me all the time?" I asked her.

   "Yes, and you'd better shut up before I get one for your mouth."

   I shut up.

   "Time to go to the toilet Billie!"

   It was a relief to piss, but I didn't have to take a crap then and told
Sylvia so.

   "Remember what I said Billie?" Asked Sylvia producing a big red rubber
bag.

   I got my first enema.

   ******

   I found out that the corset I'd woken up in was for sleeping in.  The
one I wore during the day was much more severe.  After my shower I'd been
taken back to the room.  There Sylvia tightened leather straps around each
wrist.  They were connected and I noticed a rope leading from them. I found
out what it was for shortly.  There was a pulley in the ceiling and the
rope was pulled until I was dangling in the air.  Sylvia wrapped the
daytime corset around me.  It was made out of what looked like white canvas
and as I hung there she started tightening the laces.  Tighter and tighter
it got, but she still kept tugging on them.

   "Come on Billie, let your breath out and suck that gut in."

   How could I let my breath out?  I couldn't take one in to begin with. 
As for my gut, it had disappeared long ago under the compression of the
corset.  At last she was satisfied and tied off the laces.  I hung there
feeling as though I had been cut in half.  When I was lowered and stood on
my feet the pressure increased on my tortured midsection.

   Under Sylvia's direction I stowed my balls and pushed my cock back.  She
fastened the crotch strap in back.  Then she produced some long black nylon
stocking and instructed me in how to put them on.  They were fastened to
garters hanging down from the corset.  I remembered reading somewhere about
guys who dug having this kind of stuff done to them in some adult magazine.
Oh yeah, it was NUGGET had this kind of stuff in it.  If Sylvia was into
this kind of stuff so much why couldn't she find a guy who liked it too?

   I had to get out of here.  This was getting out of hand.  The uniform
they made me wear was too much.  High heeled shoes with ankle straps
fastened tight.  With the corset on there was no way I could reach down and
undo them.  Then she put a dress on me.  It was black like Mrs.  Hudson's,
but with lace on the collar and sleeves.  That was it.  I'd expected Sylvia
to put falsies and a wig on me and make up my face, but she didn't, instead
leaving me dressed as a woman while obviously a man.  Trying to balance in
those shoes, I stumbled after Sylvia and began my first day.  Only 1,825
more to go.



   CHAPTER 3



   About six months later I stopped on my way downstairs to look at my
reflection in the mirror.  I was still Bill Adams, but it was getting
difficult to tell that by my appearance.  My hair had grown out some and
Sylvia had taken me into town where her faggot hairdresser George had
styled it in a noticeably girlish style.  He'd also pierced my ears.

   I checked my lipstick.  Yes, Sylvia had eventually made me start wearing
cosmetics.  It seemed as though every day brought some new modification to
the terms of my service.  I wore a new corset now.  Sylvia said that the
old one had gotten too loose.  I didn't think that was the case.  Thanks to
the corset and not being able to eat, I had gotten thinner.  Except on my
chest and hips that is.

   It seems that as it held me in, the corset pushed any excess flab out of
the way, and that's where it wound up.  Or so I thought at the time.

   I hardly noticed the fact anymore that my shoes had four inch heels on
them.  In fact, most of the time I also forgot about the rubber cock jammed
up my ass.  They kept me pretty busy cleaning, dusting, and learning how to
cook.  This new job of mine was harder than my old one.  Sylvia had even
brought in a speech therapist who gave me some lessons in speaking as a
girl.

   Mrs.  Hudson, Sylvia, and Julie all kept at me until it was second
nature to talk in the soft throaty drawl I'd been trained to.  Sylvia kept
hinting about testing my ability to pass.  I didn't know that today was the
day.

   I heard the doorbell ring and opened the door to find myself face to
face with my mother!

   "Good morning miss, my name is Mary Adams and I've come to see Mrs. 
Graham." My heart stopped for a minute.

   "Er, ah, yes ma'am.  Come right in."

   What was my mother doing here?  I led her in to the sitting room.

   "Please make yourself at home Mrs.  Adams.  I'll get Mrs.  Graham."

   I went upstairs and found Sylvia.

   "What the hell is going on?  My mother is downstairs."

   "Billie!  Is that how you announce guests?  You're supposed to say
'there is a Mrs.  Adams to see you ma'am.  ' I can see that you require
some remedial instruction.  I'll tend to you later."

   Sylvia went downstairs to meet my mother.

   I was helping Mrs.  Hudson in the kitchen when I heard the bell ring
summoning me.  I went to the sitting room.

   "Mrs.  Adams and I will take tea here, Billie."

   I curtseyed and left.  Sylvia had made me look and talk like a girl and,
until now, I hadn't realized how successful she had been.  I didn't have
any tits, but I guess a flat chested girl isn't that unusual.  I wasn't
that flat chested though.  As I said, the corset had displaced a lot of
flesh and that made it appear as though there were small tits on my chest.

   As I was serving tea I listened as Sylvia asked; "So Mrs.  Adams do you
have any children?"

   "Just one.  A son named William, but I haven't heard from him in years."

   "There was a laborer around here a while ago named Bill Adams.  Maybe
that's him?"

   What the hell?  Was she going to reveal who I was to my mother?

   "It might well be, but more than likely he's in prison or dead.  If he
is, I'd rather not know, and if he isn't I definitely do not want to know."

   ******

   Later, I cried by myself in the kitchen.  Sylvia had made a donation to
some charity my mother was involved in, and used that as an excuse to get
her here and rub my status in my face.

   ******



   "Billie!  We must discuss your bad behavior this afternoon."

   I could tell that I was in for it by the tone of her voice.

   "Take off your dress at once."

   I untied my apron and removed my black nylon uniform.

   "Slip, and panties, too."

   I did as ordered and shortly was standing there in only my corset,
stockings, and black patent pumps.  Of course that damn chastity device was
locked on me hiding any sign of my male organs and holding the butt plug in
securely.

   Julie was there and, after looking me over, told Sylvia.  "You win dear,
you did it."

   She handed Sylvia a dollar bill.  Sylvia had bet her a dollar that she
could transform me so well that my own mother wouldn't recognize me.

   I stood there and Julie came and looked me over.

   "Look, his little titties are coming along wonderfully."

   "What are you talking about?"

   "Shut up Billie!  You speak only when spoken to," ordered Sylvia.

   "Yes, I believe they are beginning to swell quite nicely.  Perhaps I
should increase the dosage and help them along?"

   "What?"

   Pointing to a bar stool, Sylvia told me, "Shut your mouth and assume the
position."

   This was too much.  They must be sneaking me hormones and making me grow
tits.  "I will not!"

   Sylvia slapped me across the face.  "Get you ass over that chair now
young lady."

   I slapped her back.  A right to the jaw took me completely by surprise.
I staggered wondering how a lady could hit that hard.  Sylvia grabbed me
and nodded to Julie.  I felt the prick of a needle as it entered my ass
cheek.

   As reality faded away I heard Sylvia say, "Remember Billie, as long as
you resist, it always gets worse."

   ******

   I awoke with my throat on fire and my chest sore, restrained in my bed.

   "Don't try to speak." Said a woman dressed like a nurse.  "Open your
mouth and say ahhh."

   I did and she sprayed some antiseptic tasting stuff on my throat which
numbed it.  The girl walked off leaving me strapped down in the bed,
returning shortly with Sylvia.

   "Good morning, Billie.  How are you feeling?"

   I tried to tell her that I felt like shit, but all that came out was a
squeak.

   Sylvia laughed loudly.  "Oh you're gonna have such a pretty voice when
your throat heals.  I had vocal chord modulation surgery performed on you,
and you'll be happy to know that while the doctor was down there I had him
do a trachial shave.  Now you'll never have to worry about your Adam's
apple giving you away now."

   The nurse had released me from the restraints and helped me to sit up. I
felt very odd, something wasn't right.  Then I noticed that I had a bra on.
A very well filled bra.  I remembered those stories in NUGGET where some
poor guy would have breasts bonded to his chest.  I wondered about the
solvent, which always seemed to turn up missing in those stories.  How
could a guy like having stuff like this done to him?

   The nurse unhooked the bra and slipped it off of me.  Sylvia reached
down and grabbed one of the falsies.

   Wait a minute!

   I looked down at my chest.  I could feel her hand.  Noticing the shocked
look on my face she told me.  "Oh yes, Billie, we found your magazines.  I
hope you still think huge breasts are so wonderful, because now you have
two of them of your own."

   Sylvia had left me with the voice and breasts of a woman!

   I hadn't had a hard on for, what seemed to me to be, ages and now it
seemed that, until I was out of here at least, my now insignificant male
organs were for decoration only.  They made quite a contrast with the boobs
on my chest.  I found myself needing an unpadded C cup bra.

   Part 2 of Sylvia's slave.



   CHAPTER 4



   I'd been at Sylvia's about a year and Mrs.  Hudson was getting ready to
retire.  From my conversations with her I had learned that I wasn't the
only man being feminized in the valley; it seemed to have caught on as a
fad with some of the wealthy women here.  She had informed me that Mrs. 
Humber's daughter Florence wasn't really a girl at all, rather she was the
old lady's son who was being raised as a girl.  Florence and her mother
were frequent guests at Sylvia's and the next time they came to tea I
scrutinized Florence as surreptitiously as I could.  There was no way that
this sweet thing could be a boy.

   I took her coat as she entered.  She was young; I figured about twelve
or thirteen, short; about 4'10", pale, and delicate.  Florence was very
pretty even though she wore no makeup.  She had tiny pearl studs in her
ears and her long straight brown hair, gathered in a yellow ribbon, fell
down her back past her waist where the sash of her dress was tied in a big
bow.  The dress she wore was floral print in cotton with long flowing
skirts and under it's bodice I could see the swelling of budding breasts.
She was the perfect daughter as she took tea with her mother and Sylvia,
chatting amiably with both of them.  I returned to the kitchen.

   "I thought you told me that Florence Humber was a boy," I accused Mrs.
Hudson.

   The old lady looked at me with sad eyes.  "Maybe I said too much."

   "Well I'd like to know just what is going on here."

   Mrs.  Hudson spoke in hushed tones.  "It seems that Mrs.  Humber had
four boys and really wanted a girl before she couldn't have any more
children.  She was thwarted however when the last child, Walter, turned out
to be a boy.  Mrs.  Humber is a very strong-willed woman and would not be
denied; she decided to raise Walter as a girl."

   "What about his father," I asked, "didn't he say anything?"

   "I assume he would have, but he was already suffering from the cancer
that killed him before Walter was a year old.  Mrs.  Humber consulted all
kinds of specialists and used all sorts of drugs to stop Walter's
development and stunt his growth."

   "It sure seems to have worked, he makes a very pretty girl."

   "Oh no," said Mrs.  Hudson, "she is a girl."

   "What do you mean?"

   "Mrs.  Humber had something done to Walter that changed him into a
girl."

   "You mean a sex change?" I asked, incredulous that a mother could do
that to her son.  What kind of madwomen live here in Carmel Valley?

   "I guess that's what it was."

   "Where could she find a doctor that would do such a thing to a boy?" I
mused.

   Mrs.  Hudson told me.  "Mrs.  Humber never let Walter out of her sight
and he never knew anything other than girlhood.  When he turned eighteen
she got him to agree to her plans and before anyone knew of it, he was a
girl.  Permanently."

   "Whoa!  You mean to tell me that Florence or Walter or whatever is
eighteen years old?"

   "Lord no!" Said Mrs.  Hudson.  "That was some time ago.  Let's see now,
Florence should be about ...  twenty-eight."

   "Holy shit!  You mean to tell me that Florence Humber is a twenty-eight
year old man."

   "Why yes, ...  or, ...  she was."

   The more I thought about Walter Humber the less extreme my predicament
seemed; he had been forced to live as a prepubescent girl for over fifteen
years and I only had to do five, unless I could escape sooner.  Not only
that, but I could go back to being a man when I got out of here, whereas
Walter would be a girl forever.

   ******

   Eventually Mrs.  Hudson also told me about Mrs.  Altieri and her husband
Vincent.  It seems that Carole Altieri was a very homely (let's not mince
words; she's a dog) and overweight young lady when her father, the
multi-millionaire Charles Alexander, died and left her swimming in money.
This young gigolo from San Francisco decided to romance her for a crack at
some of the cash.  Carole found out what his intentions were, but went
ahead and married him anyway, with an unbreakable pre-marital agreement
that he either never read or couldn't understand.  Boy, when he found out
that he was cut out of any money, no matter the circumstances, was he ever
pissed. She counted on that though and the first time he beat her up she
had him where she wanted him; in front of the Citizen's Justice Committee.
The end result was that Vincent Altieri is now Carole's servant Consuela.

   In a way, I guess you could say that it was Vincent whose plight
influenced me to commit to the desperate act that sealed my own fate.

   The Carmel Valley Club (whose membership, by the way, is the same as the
Citizen's Justice Committee) was having it's annual social and Sylvia was
this year's hostess.  All the help was pooled and it was while working
there that I met Vince, or rather Consuela, as his wife referred to him. 
It was to be an international buffet and of course Vince was assigned to
serve Mexican food.  I gave him the once over while we setting up and he
sure looked like a senorita; long curly black hair tumbled down his back.
His face was heavily made up and huge silver hoop earrings dangled from his
ears.  He wore an ivory colored off-the-shoulder peasant blouse, which
displayed an immense cleavage that had to be real, tucked into the
waistband of a long full skirt in a floral design which flowed over wide
womanly hips.

   I was serving as a cocktail waitress that evening and, as this was to be
Sylvia's first exhibition of me to the entire Committee since they had
placed me in her custody, no effort was spared in my preparation.  After
serving lunch I had been taken to the beauty salon in Carmel owned by that
faggot George.  His last name was Llewellyn and I'd found out that he was a
member of the committee also.  I was turned over to him while Sylvia and
Julie went shopping.

   George handed me a short pink robe.  "Go on in the cubicle there and
strip naked, then put this on and lie face down on the table."

   The air conditioner was going full blast.  My over-developed nipples
stiffened up in the cold, their state not concealed by the thin nylon of
the robe.  I was very embarrassed as I walked out with my hands crossed
over my crotch.  At Sylvia's instruction I had not worn the crotch strap
and my cock and balls hung down, barely covered by the skimpy robe.  I laid
down on my stomach as George swished back into the room.

   That queer acted more effeminate than me, if that were possible.  At
least when I behaved in a girlish manner it looked natural.

   George started waxing my legs.  "Well dearie, it seems that those
hormones you're taking are going to put me out of a job."

   I couldn't dispute him.  My body hair was coming in finer and lighter
after every time I shaved, and the intervals between shaving were getting
longer.  I wondered if it would grow back o.k.  after I was released from
here and was no longer force fed hormones.

   When the backs of my legs were done, I rolled over and George went to
work on the front of me, including my belly so that I'd be left with a only
a tiny feminine patch of pubic hair.  He grabbed my shriveled penis and
tugged on it playfully.  "You know we could have a little fun, you and I,
while we're here alone."

   "Mr.  Llewellyn!" I blurted out.  "I'll have you know that, regardless
of my appearance, I'm not queer and I don't like men."

   George let go and sniffed like he was insulted.  "Well I'm sure that
Sylvia can repair that deficiency."

   I was too, and I worried about his last remark while he stuck to
business and I received the royal treatment.  My now long hair was washed,
styled, and permed.  As I sat under the dryer a manicurist went to work on
my long nails and shortly they were polished to perfection in deep red.  No
matter how often I do them at home they never look that good.  I was given
a make over, my hair was brushed out, and then George swung me around to
face the mirror.

   I could not believe that in just over a year I had been turned into the
sweet looking young girl in the mirror.  What would I look like after four
more?

   ******

   My attire that night was a replica of the old Playboy bunny uniform.  I
hid my cock and balls under a what looked like tight rubber jock strap,
Sylvia called it a compactor, and pulled on black pantyhose.  Then I
stepped into and pulled up what looked like a strapless swimsuit, but which
was actually my uniform.  It was pink spandex and clung to me like a second
skin.  I was given a pair of black patent pumps with five inch heels.  A
little badge that said Billie, rabbit ears, and I was ready to go to work.

   I found it difficult to get around in those shoes.  I had to be careful
and walk very slow and deliberately.  I know that my ass wiggled when I
did, but what could I do?  Without a bra my breasts bounced around with
each step so I had to move slowly on that account anyway.  I went on down
to help set up for the party.

   I saw Vince there.  I arranged to work near him and when I got a chance
introduced myself.  "Hi, I'm Bill Adams."

   He just stared at me for a minute.  Then after looking around like a
scared animal he whispered in a girlish voice.  "Get out of here.  Do it
now.  Before it's too late!"

   He turned away and went back to work.  I wanted to talk more, but Sylvia
came out and was observing us closely.

   ******

   As I served drinks I noticed all the men staring at my chest.  It was
really embarrassing.  My nipples were clearly outlined as they strained
against the stretchy fabric.  I hadn't been aware that they were that
prominent.

   The party lasted well into the night and when it was over the help
stayed behind to clean up.  Carole Altieri had left Vince with us.  He
would sleep overnight and help me finish cleaning up in the morning.  He
was in Mrs.  Hudson's old room and we had to share the bath in the hall.  I
heard him go on in and shower.  I decided to talk to him.  I snuck down the
hall and knocked on the bathroom door.

   "Come in."

   I did and saw Vince's back as he dried his long hair.  I gasped aloud
when he turned around.  As I had guessed his abundant breasts were indeed
real and I now saw them revealed in all their glory.  It wasn't the size of
his chest that caused my shock, but rather his womanly hips.  They were too
womanly, for below them, between his thighs, hung ...  nothing!

   Below the triangle of pubic hair, where should have dangled the cock and
balls of a proud stud, there was only the sex of a woman.

   He saw me looking at his crotch and said, "See what I meant about
getting out of here while you still can?"

   "Your wife did that to you?"

   "No.  I did it to myself."

   "Why?"

   "I'm not sure.  It's kind of a long story."

   He went on to tell me about how after he had beaten up Carole, he was
arrested and turned over to the Committee, who sentenced him to remain
under Carole's control and supervision.  Carole was pregnant and, with no
further use for Vince, decided to feminize him.  He fought her tooth and
nail, but Carole was indefatigable and after several years of hormones and
cosmetic surgery, including breast implants, Vince had been forced to take
on the appearance of a beautiful woman.  Carole, who by now totally
dominated Vince, was somehow able to persuade him that he wanted to be a
complete woman.

   Vince wasn't sure how Carole had been able to get him to do it, he
suspected hypnosis, but whatever he finally agreed, consenting to sex
reassignment, only to return from the hospital to find out that Carole had
divorced him.  Judge Martin had granted her the divorce.  Along with the
divorce, Carole had filed a petition for change of name which was also been
granted by Judge Martin; Vince's legal name was now Consuela Hernandez.

   "I owed child-support." he said.  "Where could I go?  What could I do
... as a woman?  So now I work for her as a domestic at minimum wage. 
After taxes and Social Security I take home just over four hundred dollars
a month, out of that three hundred goes for child-support and the balance
goes to pay off my doctors bills and legal fees."

   As I stared at the man who was now irreversibly a woman, I resolved then
and there that I was going to escape before Sylvia got the notion to carry
my feminization to that extreme.



   CHAPTER 5



   I reasoned that the worst thing I could do would be to make a panicked
escape which Sylvia was probably ready for, and wouldn't get me very far
anyway.  No, I would plan it out and bide my time until the right
opportunity presented itself.  Toward that end I behaved myself,
cooperating fully with Sylvia, in order that any suspicions she might
harbor would be allayed, and some day she would let her guard down just far
enough for me to make my move.

   Mrs.  Hudson finally left and I took over as cook and housekeeper.  In
the interim, the hormones had taken their toll; I had all the curves of a
girl, my skin was soft, and I was no longer shaving.  With the compactor on
I could pass anywhere as a girl, even in a bikini.  At this point the
hormones were reduced to a maintenance dosage.  I gradually noticed an
increasing sensitivity in my cock and after awhile it even got hard again,
for which I was grateful.

   ******

   I worked hard, watched, waited, and plotted for my escape.  My prayers
were answered, and I got the break I had been waiting for on New Year's
Eve. Sylvia and Julie went out to a party and I was left home alone.  About
three in the morning I was awakened by loud talking and laughter.  Having
seen this before, and thinking that they would probably want me to prepare
some food or help them undress, I got out of bed, pulled a robe over my
nightgown, put on some slippers, and went to see what the situation was.

   I entered Sylvia's room and as I took in the scene I knew that this was
an opportunity which might never again repeat itself.  As I suspected, the
girls were drunk as lords, but this time they had gone even further.  The
two of them were passed out on the bed in each others arms.  It wasn't hard
for me to reconstruct what had happened.

   They must have come in and tried to get ready for bed.  Sylvia had
opened the safe to put their jewelry in.  After putting hers in, Sylvia
went to get Julie's.  Julie always was a playful little thing and had
probably pulled Sylvia down for a kiss.  The liquor had overcome them and
there they were; on the bed, still dressed and unconscious.

   I went and looked in the safe.  I could have screamed with joy.  My
escape was a certainty.  In there were bundles of cash, many pieces of
expensive jewelry, papers, and in the back, that same little pistol that
had been planted on me so long ago.  I took the gun, checked to see that it
was loaded, then put it in the pocket of my robe.  Grabbing a suitcase, I
emptied the safe into it.

   What next?  I stopped to consider.  I needed some clothing.  Thanks to
Sylvia, I couldn't pass as a man, and all the women's clothing I had were
sexy and revealing.  Guaranteed not to provide the anonymity I needed to
pull this off successfully.

   I ran to my room, grabbed panties and a bra, and put them on.  Back in
Sylvia's room I went through her drawers and found what must have been her
only pair of jeans.  They were of course designer and fit very tight, but
they'd last until I could buy something.  I pulled on a cotton shirt and
found a leather jacket.  That and some shoes were all I'd need.  I found a
pair of running shoes and put them on, after over a year of wearing nothing
but high-heels they felt good on my feet.

   I decided to take my revenge before I left.  I laughed as I tied the two
unconscious girls spread-eagle on the bed.  I got a glass of water and
threw it in Sylvia's face.

   "Wake up bitch!"

   She puttered and came to.  "What the fuck?"

   "Shut up!" I yelled.  I'm on my way out of here and want to finish what
I was doing when you so rudely interrupted me last time."

   I pulled down the jeans and panties, pulled out my cock, and started
playing with it to make it hard.

   "I want you to watch while I fuck your little girlfriend here."

   She did, as I did.  It felt great, even if Julie slept through it. 
Sylvia glared at me.  I knew what I wanted to do.  I went in the bathroom
and pulled out that horrid butt-plug.  I was so used to it that I'd almost
forgot it was there.  I rinsed it out.  Returning to the bedroom I crammed
it in Sylvia's mouth and tied it there with a pair of panty-hose.

   "I've had enough of your shit, bitch.  Maybe that will keep it in.  Now
is when it starts getting better for a change."

   ******

   I laughed to myself, enjoying my revenge on those two cunts, as I headed
north on Highway 1 in Sylvia's car.



   CHAPTER 6



   I knew that Sylvia would spare neither effort nor expense in searching
for me, so I did what I could to throw the hounds off of my scent.  The
first problem was my appearance; that of a beautiful blonde.  I knew from
past experience that, no matter what I wore, men would stare at and
remember me.

   I took stock of my situation.  In the case was well over 150 thousand
dollars.  I figured that the money would be fair recompense for what Sylvia
had done to me and my body.  I also knew that making myself presentable as
a man again would eat up a big chunk of it.  The rest would help make
myself disappear.

   I had an idea.  I crossed over to, and headed north on, 101 towards San
Jose.



   I left Sylvia's car in the long term parking lot at San Francisco
International Airport and started wandering through the terminals.  It
wasn't long before I spotted what I needed; a good looking blonde about my
height.  I went over and talked to her.

   "Excuse me, but could I ask where you're headed?"

   She was a cute girl, but then again that's what I appeared to be.  She
wasn't suspicious of my motives and talked to me.

   "New York.  Why do you ask?"

   "It's a long story, but I'd be willing to pay your way if you can help
me out."

   "Go on."

   "It's my boyfriend.  I've had enough of his abuse and I'm leaving him.
He's got lots of money and I don't want him to be able to track me down. 
So here's the deal.  I get in line, buy you a ticket under my name so you
aren't involved, the agent remembers me, and you fly to New York on the
ticket while I head elsewhere."

   "Sounds good to me, and I could sure use the money it would save me, and
I know what pigs some men can be.  Sure I'll be glad to do it, and good
luck to you."

   We never exchanged names and after I saw her off I caught a cab to the
city.  There I got on BART to Oakland where I caught another cab to Oakland
International Airport and bought a seat to LA under a made up name.

   ******

   It was mid-morning when I deplaned in Los Angeles.  I bought newspapers
and went into an airport coffee shop and ate breakfast while looking for a
place to live.  There were several reasons why I'd picked LA; I'd grown up
there, it's easy to drop out of sight there, and damn hard to find someone
there who doesn't want to be found.  If you have money there's nothing you
can't buy and, most importantly, LA has a large transsexual community.

   Strange as it sounds, that would be my cover while I returned to
masculinity.  Hide in plain sight as it were.  Los Angeles was the perfect
place to lose myself; if you can't do it there, you can't do it anywhere.

   I decided to call myself Jennifer Smith.  With the money I had it
wouldn't be hard to settle in, find my way around, and buy some ID.  Once
that was taken care of, I could figure out a way to become a man again.

   As I went through the classified ads, I circled those with potential and
started calling when I was done eating.  I hit pay dirt on my third
attempt. A furnished studio apartment in Hollywood for rent by the month.
The landlord was sort of a bum, but he wasn't curious, and took my deposit
and first months rent in cash.

   He probably thought that I was just another of the thousand or so young
girls who flock there each year hoping to make it in show business, and I
did everything possible to reinforce that impression.

   I sat in my tiny new home and took stock of my situation.  I had nothing
except the clothes on my back and a suitcase full of cash.  The first order
of business was food.  I grabbed a handful of bills and then stashed the
suitcase in a closet.  On my trip to the supermarket I discovered what
would be my number one problem in LA; a good looking girl alone just can't
go about her business incognito.  Especially walking in a city where
everyone drives.  I was no sooner on the street than I heard my first, "Hey
baby.  Need a ride?"

   While walking through the grocery store, I stopped for a minute in front
of the panty-hose display.  "Never again," I thought to myself, savoring my
escape from Sylvia and liberation from forced femininity.

   I returned to my new apartment with the basics: milk, bread, cereal,
cold cuts, chips, and beer.  I made myself a sandwich, popped a cool one,
and considered my next move.  I would need some clothes, but the question
was where to shop and what to buy.

   While I had hoped to return to men's clothing as soon as possible, there
was no denying that with my body, at least for the present, I would be more
likely to find appropriate clothing at Frederick's of Hollywood than
Brook's Brothers.

   I went shopping and bought a bunch of jeans and sweat-shirts.  Just
enough to keep me going until I could get back to real men's clothing.  I
also bought some cotton briefs, they were women's, but the only ones I
could find that fit.  They'd do for now.

   I also found out that there was something else I was going to have to
work on.  I found out the hard way that living with that butt plug inside
me had caused me to lose the ability to control my sphincter.  I won't go
in to any details, except to say that whenever I felt the need to go, I now
had about three minutes to find a toilet.  I debated getting another one,
but decided that I'd rather regain control and have dirty panties than keep
another butt plug in me.

   I settled in and laid low for awhile.

   Then one night I put my plan into action.  I knew that there was an area
of the strip where TS hookers and their customers congregated.  So one
night I wandered on down there and started hanging around.  I struck up a
conversation with a couple of them.  I found one that hadn't been hardened
by life on the streets yet.  He called himself Lana and had come out from
Utah or somewhere to hustle money and change his sex.

   I invited Lana home to sleep on my couch one morning after a night on
the streets.  We talked for awhile and I pumped him for information on the
best doctors to see.  I woke up the next afternoon to find the little bitch
gone along with some of the jewelry I had taken from Sylvia's.  I'd stashed
it under the sink in a coffee can.  Lana had obviously torn apart the house
looking for anything of value.  It was a good thing I'd put the money in a
safe deposit box.

   I'd been able to rent one with the false ID I had been able to buy.  It
wasn't the best, but it worked.  The guy who sold it to me thought I wanted
it to be able to pass for 21 and buy liquor.

   ******

   I went to one of the clinics on the list I had made talking to Lana. 
The receptionist told me that they did do sex reassignment there, but that
I'd need to be referred by a psychologist first.  She gave me the name of
one and I went to see him.  It wasn't hard to convince him that I was what
I appeared to be; a pre-operative transsexual passing successfully as a
woman.

   That's why I went to LA, it's almost an everyday thing there.  It was
time to put my plan into action.

   "So you've lived as a woman for a year and you're ready for surgery?"
The shrink asked me.

   "I'm not sure Doctor.  I just want to get this over with."

   "I really can't let you go through with this if you're not one hundred
per cent sure of what you're doing."

   "What else can I do Doctor?  The hormones I've been taking have
completely changed my body shape.., and just look at these." I pulled up my
sweatshirt and showed him the massive breasts hidden under it.  "What can I
do about them?"

   ******

   I laughed all the way home.  In my purse was a years supply of the
strongest male hormone available.  The doctor had even been so kind to
arrange for what he called a radical mastectomy.  I didn't care what he
called it.  They were gonna cut those damn tits off.

   On the appointed day I showed up at the clinic where they were going to
do the job.  I was given a room where I undressed and put on the hospital
gown.  As I tried to go to sleep I was so relieved.  At last I was on my
way back to masculinity.  No more bras for me.  I'd get these tits off in
the morning and never wear girls clothing again.

   The next morning a nurse came in and gave me a shot in my ass.  I
started to drift as the shot took effect.  Another nurse in surgical greens
wearing a mask came in and I became aware that she was strapping my arms
and torso to the table.

   "Why are you doing that?" I asked her.

   "It's for your own protection dear."

   That voice!  I knew it.  Just then she slipped her mask down: it was
Sylvia.

   "So!  You thought you could get away from me.  I must admit you led me
on a merry chase until some of my jewelry started showing up in pawnshops,
but here I am and now you must pay.  Remember Billie; it always gets
worse."

   THE END

   (ha-ha just kidding)



   The conclusion to Sylvia's Slave.



   CHAPTER 7



   I awoke to find myself in a large sunny room.  I quickly found that I
couldn't move at all.  I felt very strange and it didn't take me long to
figure out that I was under the influence of some drug.  I lay there in a
kind of semi-consciousness until some people walked in.  I saw a Doctor,
Sylvia, and Julie.  I knew that I was in for it now.

   "I see that sleeping beauty has awakened." Said Sylvia.

   "What are you doing to me?" I croaked out in voice hoarse from disuse.

   "Nothing yet my dear.  You are recovering from what you have done to
yourself."

   "What's that?  What are you talking about?" I asked.

   "Figure it out for yourself.  I find you anesthetized and prepped for
surgery in a clinic that is world renowned for sex-changes.  What could I
do?  I let them finish the operation, that you obviously wanted so badly
that you had to steal my money and jewelry to pay for it, before I took you
back into custody."

   I wasn't really with it, but I noticed that I still had the large
breasts that I'd come to have removed.

   "What?"

   "Let's just say that your name isn't appropriate anymore Bill."

   What was she talking about?  Oh my God!

   "No.  You didn't?"

   "Oh yes I did.  You'd better get used to the fact that you are, for all
intents and purposes, a full-fledged woman now and forever."

   "Noooooooooooooo..."

   ******

   I thought the pain would never end after the drugs wore off and my body
recovered from it's reconfiguration.  I thought about Vince, or rather
Consuela, and how prophetic she had been.  I had been unable to escape from
Sylvia, and as a result would be serving a life sentence in bras and
panties.

   The pain gradually decreased in intensity and finally faded away
completely.  The Doctor pronounced me healed and removed the catheter from
inside me.

   A nurse instructed me on how to care for myself and urinate.  I had
always pissed sitting down while hiding out in LA to minimize the chances
of discovery, but now I had no choice and the process was somewhat
different.  I was quite embarrassed when the nurse told me that I should
douche myself at least once a week, and then explained the procedure.

   I was given a robe and allowed out of bed.  My experience had left me
too weak to walk, so I was placed in a wheelchair and rolled to a balcony
for some sun.  I couldn't tell where I was, except that it was a large
estate in the country somewhere.

   I was assigned to a physical therapist who got me walking again and
exercised me.  I developed some muscle tone, it wasn't much, but it was the
best I could expect.  As the nurse explained it to me.  No testicles, no
testosterone.  No testosterone, no muscles.  She told me that what little
tone I had was suitable for a young woman, so why worry?  I was given mega
doses of female hormones to make me soft and curvy again.



   After my body had stabilized I was weighed and measured and told that I
possessed the following statistics: 5'7" tall, 115 pounds, and 38-23-35. 
Those breasts I had tried to have removed had grown even more and I found
myself one of those "D-cuppers" that I used to admire so much.

   ******

   I was on my back strapped to an examining table with my arms restrained.
Sylvia watched as the Doctor placed my feet in stirrups so that he could
conduct a pelvic exam.  I felt whatever it was he was using moving around
inside of me.  It wasn't uncomfortable, but it was somewhat unnerving.

   "It appears that the operation was a total success Mrs.  Graham," said
the doctor.  "It will be my pleasure to sign the legal forms attesting that
Bill is a woman."

   "Excellent Doctor."

   "I must tell you however, that she needs to occasionally insert some
type of form into her vagina and keep it there for a day to ensure that it
does not close up on her."

   "That's no problem Doctor, I know what's required and I'll see to it
that she takes good care of herself.  What about her responses?  Sexually I
mean."

   "Well let's see."

   "Perhaps Bill would like to watch.  Can she?"

   "I don't see why not."

   The doctor swung a large convex mirror out over the table and I saw my
sex right there in front of me, every aspect of it magnified.  I had a cunt
for sure, correct in every detail.  My pubic hair had grown back, but it
was now lighter and finer than it had been before.

   I watched as the doctor spread the lips of a vagina open.  I couldn't
quite connect with the fact that what I was seeing was me.  Like a small
animal transfixed by a snake, I was powerless to turn away, and watched as
he pushed his finger inside of me and moved it around.

   "I used a new procedure on Bill in which her vagina is constructed from
a strip of abdominal skin instead of using the remains of the penis. 
Thanks to this she has outer and inner labia, an excellent clitoris, and
her vagina can self-lubricate."

   "I'm sure that she is happy to hear that." Said Sylvia.

   I wasn't.  In a mixture of horror and fascination, I watched the doctor
touch what seemed to be a clitoris.  I was totally unprepared for the
sensations that coursed through my body.  He massaged it with two fingers
and I felt strange things happening to my body.  The clit seemed to get
hard and I was astonished that my nipples did likewise.  The doctor took
one of my breasts in his other hand and started playing with it.  The
feeling was so intense that I couldn't help myself.  I watched my pelvis
moving around on it's own, trying to get his fingers in further.  Was I
doing that?

   My nipples were so hard that they hurt.  I wanted the doctor to take
them into his mouth and suck on them.  Soon I could concentrate on nothing
except the stimulation of my new sex.  It felt physically hot.  I found
myself panting and my clit seemed to be standing at attention, yearning for
the doctor's touch as he moved two fingers in and out of me.  I was shocked
to discover that I could enjoy this violation of my body, but I did, and
found myself wanting more.

   Without a word the doctor obliged me and inserted a third finger into
the cunt he'd given me.  It was starting to feel full and that felt good.
He turned his hand up and used his thumb to caress my clit.  I had no
control over my body anymore and heard myself moaning.  Without warning I
felt my loins contract and then spasm, then again, and again.  What a
sensation!

   The doctor withdrew his hand and I lay there breathing heavily.  I found
my body covered with a light sheen of perspiration.

   "Doctor.  I had no idea ...," exclaimed Sylvia.  How could you give her
such responses?"

   "It's just the wonders of modern medicine," the doctor said as he washed
his hands at the sink.  "With the drugs and procedures available today one
can accomplish just about anything."

   He talked to the intercom.  "Nurse will you come and remove the patient
from room 2."

   Putting on his coat he told Sylvia.  "If you think this is interesting
then I'm sure that you'll find some of my other patients fascinating. 
Would you care to accompany me on my rounds this morning?"

   "With pleasure doctor."

   I was left alone to wait for the nurse to come and release me then
return me to my room.

   ******

   The day I had been dreading arrived at last.  Sylvia entered my room
with a girl in a white uniform in tow.

   "Good news Bill.  Today we go home.  Joanne here will help you get
yourself together for the trip."

   Joanne turned out to be a beautician.  My hair was washed, cut, and
permed.  I wished now that I had cut it short when I had the chance, but
then what difference did it make anymore?  While my hair was drying Joanne
went to work on my nails, which I had ignored during my freedom.  Shortly
they were filed to points and painted bright red.  Joanne brushed out my
long blonde curls and left me alone.

   Sylvia returned shortly with some packages and cases.  Handing me a case
she asked, "You still remember how to put your make up on?  Be a good girl
and go do it while I get your clothing ready."

   I knew that any resistance at this stage would be futile so I complied
with her instructions.  I applied the cosmetics as I had before my brief
stint of freedom: foundation, blusher, eye shadow, eye liner, mascara, and
lastly translucent powder.  A pretty girl stared back at me from the
mirror, and like the use of the pronouns she and her in reference to
myself, I tried not to think about her as she related to me.

   While I had been occupied with my face Sylvia had put out clothing for
me.  It was all new and still in boxes from the stores.  Sylvia chattered
away, all the while maintaining the pretense that I had wanted the
sex-change she had forced upon me.

   "I was so glad to find out that you kept up the commitment to become a
woman Billie.  I was afraid that you might have given up.  I don't blame
you for stealing the money, but I want you to know that all you would have
had to do was ask, and I would have paid for it.

   "I brought some of your old clothes with me but, with the increase in
your bustline, I'm afraid they won't fit.  I took the liberty of buying you
some new things.  Don't worry about the cost, we can settle up later. 
Here, see how these fit."

   She handed me a bra.  It was a front-hook design, of white nylon and
spandex.  I had never worn one like it before.  I got it on and managed to
get my breasts into the underwire cups and hook it shut.  It provided some
welcome support even though the upper parts of the cups were lace and my
nipples were visible through them.

   "Before I forget, go ahead and put this in."

   She handed me what looked to be a small white tube.

   "What is this?" I asked.

   "It's tampon silly.  You've got to keep your lovely new womanhood open
and this will serve for now."

   "But ...  I don't ..."

   "How stupid of me.  I keep forgetting that those of who were born female
gradually absorb such knowledge from our mothers and peers as we grow up.
You poor girls who join us later in life have to learn so many new things.

   "Here, you hold it like this.  You spread your lips ....  yes, like
that. Now insert this end in you and put it in to about there.  Good.  Now
push on the other end so it slides up inside the other one. When it stops,
pull the applicator out.  There you go.  That wasn't so bad was it?"

   I could feel the tampon up inside of me and looking down could see a
white string hanging out of me.

   "When you have to go to the bathroom, just pull it out by the string. 
Throw it away, don't flush it down the toilet, and when your done, wipe
yourself and put a new one in.  I figure two days a week will serve to keep
you open, and Bill if you ever have any questions about feminine hygiene,
please feel free to ask me about them anytime."

   I stepped into the white nylon and lace panty Sylvia handed me.  It
turned out to be a string bikini.  I got it up over my hips, experiencing
for the first time, but certainly not the last, the awareness of my new
vagina in panties.

   "I'm sure Bill, that you'll be much more comfortable now that you don't
have to wear that tight compactor any more."

   I tried to ignore her banter as I put on the sheer white panty-hose she
provided.  I knew that I was back in dresses, this time to stay.  I was
given a white nylon slip.  It was followed by a rose patterned cotton
dress. I slipped it on, zipped up the back, and buckled the matching belt.
I had expected something radical, but this was almost demure; with a lace
collar, short sleeves, and a full gathered skirt which fell from a dropped
waist to mid-calf.  I donned white leather pumps with three inch heels and
sat there waiting.

   "Here Bill, I bought you some jewelry to go with you new wardrobe. 
Don't worry about paying me back, I'll consider it a gift to my newest
girlfriend."

   Sylvia was really getting on my nerves by now with her pretend
sweetness. I strapped on the tiny ladies watch she gave me and looked at
the two large earrings in my hand.  They were large pearls surrounded by a
gold chain; obviously fake, they were for pierced ears.

   "I was disappointed to find that you had let the holes in your ears
close up, but you'll be happy to know that I had the doctor pierce new
ones."

   I felt my earlobes and sure enough there were new holes with tiny pieces
of plastic to keep them open.  I pulled out the plastic and put on the
earrings.

   "Here's a new bag for you, dear," said Sylvia.

   I took the white handbag from her and asked, "What's going to happen to
me now?"

   "I'm sure I don't know Billie.  You'll just have to see what the
committee says."

   "Are you kidding me!  Isn't having my balls cut off punishment enough?"

   Sylvia looked at me with that icy look she was capable of.

   "Let's get this straight Bill, your punishment hasn't even started yet.
In fact, you aren't capable of understanding the meaning of the word as it
pertains to what's going to happen to you."



   CHAPTER 8



   I kept my mouth shut during the ride back to Carmel.  I sat in the back
of the limousine with Sylvia and she kept babbling chit-chat and gossip
about what had been going on since I left.  As if I cared.  The chauffeur
was new and I guess that I looked like Sylvia's younger sister to him.  He
held the door for me, called me Ma'am, and treated me just like he did
Sylvia.  I also noticed him stealing glances at me in the rear-view mirror
from time to time.  At least he didn't know the truth about who I was.

   When we arrived home, we got out of the car in the front of the house.

   "Why don't you take the rest of the day off Al.  In fact, it's Friday
and I won't need you this weekend so why not get away for awhile.  Tell you
what, go ahead and use the Mercedes."

   "Thank you very much Mrs.  Graham.  Are you sure?"

   "Yes I'm sure, but you better be out of here before I come to my senses
and change my mind."

   He squealed the tires he drove off so fast.  I should have known Sylvia
had hidden motives.  We walked into the house to find the Committee already
in session in the living room.

   Sylvia went and sat down as I stood before them.  Judge Martin addressed
me.

   "It pains me to see you in front of us again Bill, and for such serious
offenses; assault with a deadly weapon, rape, and armed robbery to mention
only a few of the more serious ones.  We have heard all the testimony, so
is there anything you would like to say before we sentence on you?"

   "Yes there is.  I don't deserve any punishment.  Look what she was doing
to me; she made me look and act like a girl, I needed to get my masculinity
back.  Not only that, but down in LA she finished the job and had me
operated on and turned into a woman.  I've suffered enough and I should be
let go now."

   "Bill I must tell you that everything Mrs.  Graham did to you here, was
within her rights and, as for the rest, while I'm certain we all sympathize
with you over your loss, it happened well outside our jurisdiction and will
not be taken into consideration by us.

   "Now if the defendant will strip and face the court we will pronounce
sentence on him, excuse me, her."

   There was snickering at this last.

   "Fuck you, I will not!"

   "Bailiffs!  Remove the prisoner and return her when she's ready."

   ******

   I don't know if I was more angry or ashamed as I stood before them.  I
was naked and the modifications to my body were revealed for all to see,
even the tampon string hanging from my pussy.  For some reason I found that
to be particularly degrading.  I was gagged and couldn't make a sound, with
my hands cuffed behind my back.  A big goon stood at each side of me,
holding me immobile.

   "William Adams, because of your continuing record of criminal
misbehavior, lack of either remorse or repentance, and proven inability to
rehabilitate yourself, it is the judgment of this committee that you be
stripped of your identity.  As of this moment, William Adams has ceased to
exist, as Dr.  Colfax will attest on his death certificate.  You are now a
nameless nonentity and, as such, we declare you to be chattel.

   "In order that justice may be served, and as reparation for the
inequities she has suffered, we do hereby transfer to Sylvia Graham all
rights and title to the slave standing before us.  If any person wishes to
speak, he or she may do so now."

   I tried to speak and squirm around, but to no avail.

   "No comments?  Then I declare that this court is adjourned."

   The committee broke up into smaller groups and started chatting.  I
stood still, the shock, of what had just been done to me, just beginning to
sink in.  Judge Martin and Sylvia walked over to where the two thugs still
held me.

   "Well Sylvia, it looks like you came out rather well after all.  Tell
me, what do you plan to do with your new slave?  If you're interested in
selling her, I might be persuaded to make an offer."

   "Thank you Judge, but for now I plan to keep her.  My first order of
business will be to mark my new possession so that in case she should
wander off whoever finds her will know where she belongs.  Would you care
to observe?"

   "Certainly Mrs.  Graham, it may prove enlightening."

   "Take her out to the garage, boys."

   I was frog-marched out to the garage, from which all cars had been
removed.  In the middle of the garage was a saw horse with padding on the
top.  I was led to it and picked up and placed over it.  My arms and legs
were strapped to each legs of it and were cinched tightly.  I couldn't move
a muscle.  Then I noticed a huge man wearing a leather apron and pumping
what appeared to be some sort of a bellows.  Wasn't that Sylvia's barbecue
grill?

   He picked up what appeared to be a long stick.  One end of it glowed
cherry hot and I knew then what was going to happen to me.

   Every muscle in my body strained as the branding iron burned into my
left ass cheek.  I tried to scream , but the gag prevented the escape of
any sound.  Just when I thought I'd die, it was pulled away.  I went limp
on the sawhorse, panting.  Thank God that was over.

   Then I felt the reheated iron sear into my right ass cheek.

   ******

   I looked over my shoulder at the mirror.  On each globe of my plump ass
there was an "S" burned into my pink skin.  Not only had Sylvia turned me
into a woman, she had marked me as her slave for life; She told me that the
"S S" for Sylvia's Slave.

   I'd been taken good care of while the burns had healed.  I'm sure Sylvia
didn't want anything happening to her valuable property.  I was starting to
dress when Julie entered my room.

   "Come with me slave.  Sylvia wants you."

   "Yes Mistress." That's how I had to address them now.  "I'll be right
there.  Just let me put a robe on."

   "No slave.  Come as you are."

   ******

   I followed Julie down to the living room and saw that there were two
large beams formed into an X on the floor.  Under Sylvia's direction, I
laid down on it and they bound my wrists and ankles to it.  Then the two of
them stood it up and leaned it back against the fireplace.  I found myself
spreadeagled, exposed, and unable to move.  I was beginning to get very
apprehensive about this.

   "You know slave that you haven't been punished yet."

   "What do you call all this you've done to me?"

   "Circumstances slave.  You still have to be punished.  I'm sure that
you'll be glad to hear that it will serve a couple of purposes."

   Sylvia rubbed her hand across my belly.

   "First.  This will allow me complete control over your body."

   Her hand traced a path down across my pubic hairs and continued to the
inside of my thigh.

   "Second.  This is going to hurt.  That will go away in time, but you
will always carry a reminder of what you did and your punishment for doing
it."

   She had brought her hand up and was now caressing my breast with it.

   "Third.  I know from your performance with the doctor that you're a hot
little bitch and would gladly put out for any man.  So I am going to ensure
that I exercise complete control over your sex life and remove that
temptation from you.  At least, unless I want you to fuck someone."

   Sylvia started really playing with my titties.  In spite of my fear I
felt myself become aroused as a result of her fondling me.  My nipples
stiffened and I could feel my crotch heat up.  Sylvia put one hand down and
started stroking my pussy.  I could feel her fingers on my clit and the
stimulation was almost too much for me.  Then she stopped abruptly.  From
the table she picked up a little foil packet and tore it open.  What use
did she have for a needle?

   Oh no!

   "Go ahead and scream slave.  There's no one to hear you."

   I watched in horror as she held the needle point against my right
breast.

   "And so you are further marked as a slave."

   I felt pain lance through my breast as Sylvia pushed the needle through
my nipple.  I cried out in agony.  I looked down to see the point exit the
other side and a tiny drop of blood form on it, then fall to the ground. 
Leaving the needle as it was Sylvia picked up another packet.  I started to
lose touch with reality as another needle was forced through my left
nipple.

   I hung there with both breasts feeling as though there was a blowtorch
burning them, but the pain was gradually subsiding.  Julie came up and
pulled the needles out of my breasts.  She then pushed a gold ring through
the hole in my right nipple.  Pushing the ends together, Julie touched them
with something that looked like a soldering iron.  The ring got hot for a
minute then she removed the tool and let the ring hang.  It was sealed
permanently.  The process was repeated with my left nipple.

   Julie commented on her handiwork.  "Don't you just love your new rings,
slave?  I think you should go topless all the time so that you can show
them off to everyone."

   Just then Sylvia dropped a handful of the needle packets on the table.

   "Be sure you remember slave; it always gets worse."

   Sylvia resumed petting my cunt.  The pleasure mingled with fear and the
pain from my breasts.

   No!

   She's got a needle out and she's putting it down there.  Please God, NO!



   It was that afternoon that my spirit was finally and totally broken; as
the lips of my new vagina were pierced repeatedly.  If that sounds painful,
it was nothing compared to when the piercing needle passed through the
sensitive clit that had been formed from my cock.  As you can imagine, my
memory is kind of hazy about the whole affair.



   CHAPTER 9



   Sylvia told me that the Committee would be having a big party one
evening and that we would be going.  She had an outfit for me to wear,
which I would get later on.

   After I had cleaned up the kitchen from dinner, I reported to Sylvia. 
She opened the tiny padlock hanging from my clitoral ring and I was able to
remove the fine gold chain which was laced through the rings in my vagina
and served to keep my pussy off-limits.  Then I pulled out the dildo and
washed it off.  Remember how I was supposed to keep a tampon in me to keep
my operation from closing up on me?  Well Sylvia decided that using a
tampon was too much like something a real girl would do, so she got me a
fake cock to keep in my fake cunt.  I carry it around inside of me all day;
constantly aware of it chained inside me, where I can't do a thing about
it. Sylvia says that's what my pussy was made for anyway.  A cock that is.
Then I got the butt plug out and washed it off.  Yeah, I still have to keep
that thing inside me all day also.

   I took a bath and washed my hair.  Sylvia had decided that I needed to
be a red head for awhile, so my hair had been died scarlet, even my pubes.
I douched myself as I'd been taught, slipping the nozzle between my ringed
cunt lips, and filling myself up with hot soapy water.  It wasn't an
unpleasant experience.  I changed nozzles and gave myself an enema.  No
telling what orifices would be in use tonight.

   I dried off, brushed my teeth, applied deodorant, and dusted myself with
a pleasant smelling powder.  Going to my room, I put on my make up, then
sprayed myself with perfume, having the scent of the powder, lightly on my
neck, shoulders, between my breasts, behind my knees, and, of course down
there.  My toilette completed I went naked to Sylvia's room.

   There was a pile of black lingerie on her bed.

   "Put this on first," Sylvia directed, handing me a black satin garter
belt.

   I got it on, then pulled on the seamed black stockings she gave me, and
attached the garters to them.  I stepped into a pair of black satin and
lace panties, only to find out that they were crotchless.  I usually have
to be careful with the rings in my vagina and clit and arrange them in my
panties so that they don't pull when I sit or cross my legs, but this pair
just left them hanging out.  The demi-bra she gave me was no better; it had
no cups.  My nipples were uncovered and the bra held them up, with the
thick rings in them held out for all to see, swinging as I walked.  Black
patent pumps with five inch heels completed my outfit.

   "Go downstairs and wait for us."

   "Yes Mistress."

   Knowing better to question anything, I did as I was told.  Shortly
Sylvia and Julie came down.  Sylvia help up some handcuffs.  Without a
word, I turned around and put my hands behind my back.  Click.  Click;
they'd be staying back there.  A gag was put in my mouth and held in by
straps buckled behind my head.  It was a penis gag and I knew that my jaws
would soon be aching from the large rubber cock jammed between them.  Then
the final touch was added; a dog leash was clipped to my clit ring and I
was led out to the car.

   After we arrived and had been introduced to the hostess, I found out
that I was to be the guest of honor that night.  Some honor.  I was told to
kneel down and my clit ring was locked to a short chain in the floor.  I
wouldn't be going anywhere until it was released.  Sylvia removed the penis
gag, whispering in my ear, "Remember slave.  No matter how bad it seems, I
can always make it worse."

   I believed her now.

   I worked my jaws to ease their stiffness, but before they felt better, I
discovered that not only was I the guest of honor, but that I would also be
providing the evenings entertainment.

   I have heard it said that when you swallow your pride a spoonful is as
good as a taste, but I had no pride left to swallow.  Now I'd be swallowing
cum.  The penis gag was replaced by the real thing and I was literally
sucking for my life.

   This went on over and over throughout the evening.  Occasionally Sylvia
would come over and give me a sip from her drink to wash the taste of cum
out of my mouth and refresh my lipstick.  I saw Consuela, who was working
as a cocktail waitress this evening, and she stared at me with pity and
understanding.  Many of the men critiqued me, giving pointers and advice,
and by the end of the evening I was quite an accomplished cocksucker.

   The worst part, as far as I was concerned, was when that faggot
hairdresser George Llewellyn walked up and watched me with my mouth full of
cock.  When I had finished we looked at each other for a minute.

   "I suppose you're next?" I asked him.

   "Oh no!" he replied, "I only like men, and dearie, you ain't no man,"
then he pranced away cackling with glee.

   I knelt there in shame and degradation, blinking back tears.  He was
right.  I felt the heat run out of my chained pussy as a door opened and a
breeze blew in.  More men entered.  Time to make myself useful.

   ******

   I found out later that my performance that evening was only a preview,
for both me and the many men I serviced.  In order to recoup some of the
money I had cost her, Sylvia decided that I would be made available to
anyone who could afford her price for me.  You would be shocked, I'm sure,
to hear about some of the things I've been hired out to do, but Sylvia says
that I don't have to write about them now.



   CHAPTER 10



   Over time, the reality of my situation has sunk in and, somehow, I have
been able to accept it.  Having your cock and balls cut off and getting a
cunt to replace them can really change your outlook on life.  It is brought
home to me, every time I pull down my panties and sit down to piss, that
under no circumstances can I ever again hope to be a man.  Eventually I
just surrendered, deciding that the best I can ever aspire to is to escape
humiliation and beatings.  Towards that end I have applied all my energies.

   As a slave-girl I have no name, but after the improvement in my attitude
and behavior Sylvia gave me one.  Since I belong to her, and please my
customers so well, she named me Tricksy Graham.

   I even discovered that there were some things I liked about myself now.
As I told you big tits have always turned me on and now that I have my own
...

   Oh there's one other thing you might be interested in knowing.  Remember
I got hired after Mr.  Graham passed away?  Well it seems he didn't exactly
die.  I recently found out that Julie used to be a man; Sylvia's husband,
Robert.  The money I took from the safe was the proceeds from an insurance
scam they had pulled by having Judge Martin declare him dead, but that's
another story.  THE END
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