From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Recollections oF Sarah (F/m, fom, tg, feminization)
Date: 12 Jul 1996 22:09:53 GMT

			Recollections oF Sarah

	Sarah, five foot eleven inches of long soft blonde hair, blue
eyes, golden skin, soft red lips, and muscles trained for an Olympic
champion which she almost was.

	I was in my early twenties when I first met her at a track
meet in Eugene, Oregon. She ran the 800 meters, and ran it well both
for her nation and her college. I had run earlier when I was in
college, and was at the meet since I had gotten a job working with the
USOC. I watched her run in one of the heats, and was attracted to her
strength, and as the race progressed her intelligence and courage.

	After the heat, which she won by the way, I walked up and
introduced myself. One thing led to another, and we agreed to meet
later that evening.

	We met at a tent just outside the stadium where athletes were
getting information on equipment and plans for upcoming meets. It was
the sort of place, where people would just gather and find out about
everything. When she approached, we talked track for a while, meets,
runners, equipment, training, then that was it. She left, and I found
myself extremely attracted to her.

	Less than a year later I ran into her at an airport, we were
both arriving but from different cities. I offered to buy her dinner
and she accepted. Later that night we met for dinner, and I learned
that she had sustained a couple of minor injuries and wouldn't be
running for a while. This enabled her to have some time for the first
time in her life. The amount of time a truly Olympic qualified athlete
spends training and competing is beyond most people imagination. It is
truly a seventy hour week, with the rest of time spent resting,
thinking, preparing.

	One thing led to another, and we agreed to have dinner the
next night as well. Over the course of three years, we would
periodically run into each and have dinner alone or with others, I
found myself becoming her friend, and I was a little disappointed that
the relationship never seemed to move beyond that stage.

	Over the course of the next year, we ran into each other from
time to time at various meets and events. Each occasion would give me
the opportunity to speak to her, to see her, and even to shake her
hand and once receive a quick kiss on the cheek.

	During this time I found myself beginning to obsess over her,
to imagine what lay beneath the clothes, to ponder the mysteries of
her body. I came to fantasize about her time and time again, to find
myself staring off into space focusing entirely on her. Nights were
the worst, I would find myself in bed enraptured by the idea of being
with her, of touching her, of running my fingers along the outline of
her body, through her hair, even possessing her.

	Then one day as I was leaving my apartment building, I saw a
runner approach with a running form that seemed familiar. As the
outline began to take form and focus, the familiar gait came nearer
and nearer and as it did, my mind began to recognize it, it was Sarah.

	Miracle of miracles, it was here and she saw me and came
running to me. "What are you doing here," I asked. "Just moved in,"
she said. "Moved in where?" "Right behind you silly," she said.
"That's my building," I said. "Yes," she replied, "I knew that."

	Even though I was late, I didn't want to go to work, I just
wanted to be with her. But she said she had things to do, and would
see me that night. Thus began the single longest day in my captivity
of the USOC.

	Later that night, finally, we had the chance to stop and talk.
Despite all my fantasies, that was all it was, stop and talk. She told
me she had moved to work with a new trainer, and that she was going to
begin to do weight training to improve her strength.

	Over the course of the next few months, I made myself as
helpful as I could. I found myself running errands for her, talking to
her, dropping off clothes at the cleaners, and driving her from place.
It was in this time that the relationship began to take form. I was
totally devoted to her, and soon found myself almost in her service.

	After a year, she suggested that, given our friendship, the
idea of two apartments in the same building was silly, why couldn't we
just be roommates? It made sense to me, and we both moved into a new
two bedroom in a new complex.

	The relationship from this point on began to accelerate. She
knew that I was devoted to her, that our relationship was non-sexual,
but that I was becoming her servant in almost every non-sexual way. It
really got started when I told her I was going to do my wash;he asked
would I mind throwing hers in as well? "No problem," I said. I had
already been doing the cooking and the cleaning and the shopping, the
laundry was just another task that gave me pleasure because I was
doing it for her.

	From there we progressed to where it was just assumed I would
do the laundry. Every Saturday when she ran out to run, or work out,
I would go into her room, collect her dirty clothes, take them to the
laundry, wash them, dry them, and then even iron them. After all,
since I was ironing for myself, I might as well do her things too.

	This seemed to open up new vistas; from time to time she would
come into the living room, and sit at my feet brushing her hair, it
was only natural that I would ask for the brush and begin brushing her
hair for her.

	Then one time she came in very stiff and sore, so I offered to
massage her. We wound up buying a massage table, and I began nightly
to massage her, massage which lasted for up to an hour until my hands
and fingers simply couldn't exert enough strength to knead and rub.

	By the end of six months, I was almost her full time servant
and maid, and still I had never sexually touched her, never seen her
fully undressed. Six months of living with her, and never once having
even kissed her.

	One night while we were talking with a couple of other
runners, both married to others by the way, the woman said I was
seemed as much a "wife" as a friend, and Sarah said I was much more
than a wife, I was her best friend.

	After they had left, Sarah and I finished a bottle of wine
which was quite unusual since she abided by training rules. We laughed
about the others, and we laughed about my being a wife. She looked at
me very seriously, and then she asked if I wanted to be her wife. I
said, "Yes," and she looked at me in a very particular way. "Do you
mean that?" she said, "do you really want to be my wife?"

	I answered that I wanted to be whatever she wanted me to be.
With that she smiled, and leaned over and kissed me. This was our
first real kiss, a kiss on the lips with a tongue traveling the
outline of my lips and then into my mouth. I leaned back against the
sofa, and felt the rapture of such a kiss. It was a kiss I had
imagined for months, and it resulted in an incredible physical
response.

	Soon the lips left my mouth and tongue, and moved down to the
nape of my neck and then up to my ears. By then the anticipation of
what might finally be fulfillment began to well up in me, when she
stopped. She just stopped, and said that we would talk about
everything tomorrow night. With that she rose, and went off to her
bedroom.

	The following night, when I returned home she was sitting at
the kitchen table. As I walked in, and she offered me coffee.

	When I sat down at the table, she looked up and again asked if
I wanted to be her wife. I answered as I did the night before, that I
wanted to be whatever she wanted me to be. She stood, and walked over
behind me. I felt her bend over and wrap her arms across my shoulders,
and then she whispered into my ear, "I want to you to be mine," she
said, "all mine in every way." I reached up and kissed her arm, and
and then held my breath for a second before saying that I would be
whatever she wanted me to be.

	With that she removed her arms, and told me to follow her to
her bedroom. I walked behind her, and as I entered the room she walked
over to her chair, the stuffed one that sat before the window. Looking
at me, as she sat, she said, "Undress." I stood there just looking at
her as she drew the coffee cup to her lips. "Now," she said, "take
your clothes off."

	I complied first unknotting my tie, then drawing it out from
under the collar. Then I began to unbutton the shirt, and pulled it
out of my trousers. Then I took it off and let it slip to the floor. I
kicked my shoes off, then unbuckled my belt, and pulled it through the
loops. Then I unhooked my pants, and bent over to slide them off my
legs.

	After they had been dropped to the floor, I reached over and
pulled my socks down; finally I placed my fingers in my shorts, and
drew them down as well.

	"Just stand there," she said. I could feel her eyes traveling
over my body, probing and feeling without even touching me. It was the
first time I had been naked with her, and then knowing that she was
fully clothed, an embarrassment began to form in me and a sense of
shame and finally humility.

	As I looked as her, she told me to pirouette. Feeling totally
stupid she as she watched me, I found myself complying. She then told
me to go into the bathroom and take a bath.

	As I drew the water, she poured some oil into the tub and then
some beads of some kind. The water began to fill the tub, when she
told me to get in.

	"Bathe," she said, "bathe every part of your body."

	When I had finished bathing, she stood at the edge of the tub
holding in her arms a long towel. As I dried myself off, she told me
to stand with my arms up over my head, I did so. As I stood there, she
draped the towel around me under my armpits, and then tucked the towel
into itself. "Put your arms down," she said. She then took another
towel and wrapped it around my head into a turban.

	She led me over to the sink in front of the mirror, and then
asked me to sit on the chair.

	When I had sat, she unwrapped the long towel, and let it fall
to my lap. She then started to apply a cream to my chest. The cream
stung a little and smelled funny. Then she reached up with a cloth and
began to remove the cream and with it the small amount of hair on my
chest. "Raise you arm," she said, and as I did she began to shave my
armpits, first one and then the other.

	Then she told to me stand, and as I did the the towel fell to
the floor. She moved over and sat on the chair and then began to apply
a shaving cream to my pubic hair. Then she took out a razor and
started to shave me. When she had finished, she told me to stand on
the chair, and then she shaved my legs.

	Finally she told me sit down, and then she shaved my face much
closer than I had ever done.

	After the shaving was complete, she began to rub a lotion onto
my face, it was a brown lotion. Then she reached over and began to
apply the rest of the make up, lipstick, blush, eye shadow, eye liner.

	Finally she began to work on my hair, Bulgarian and styling
it. Then she placed a mask over my eyes, and led me out of the
bathroom into her bedroom. In the bedroom, she whispered into my ear
that I was soon to be all hers.

	With that she sat me on the edge of the bed, and I felt her
remove the mask. Laid out on the bed were stockings, a garterbelt, a
pair of panties, a padded bra, and a drop waist jersey dress. "Put
them on," she said. I complied.

	After I was dressed she led me back into the bathroom and told
me to close my eyes. Then she told me to open them and look into the
mirror. "Now," she said, "you are mine."

	She left the room, and I stayed looking into the mirror amazed
at the difference before me. I felt a longing well up deep with me,
and an erection that felt strained up against the panties. She called
to me from the bedroom; as I entered she was once again seated in the
chair. "Come by me," she said, and indicated that I was to sit on the
floor to her right. "How do you like your new clothes?" she asked.

	"They feel different and naughty," I replied.

	"Good," she said, "they should feel naughty. Here is how this
going to work. From now on when you are home, you will wear women's
clothes at all times. Later tonight we will go shopping for some other
things for you to wear. I would like to see you in a chemise, garter
belt, and stockings most of the time.

	"When ever you leave, you must wear something female; probably
you will choose to wear panties. From here on out you are my wife, and
you will only do what I ask you to do. If you displease me you will be
punished. From time to time, I will allow you to make love to me. But
we will only do that as women do, or when I decide to be your man. Is
that clear?"

	"Yes," I answered, no longer sure of myself as I was but also
unsure of what I had or was going to become.

				* * *

	Over the next few days and weeks we settled into a
relationship in which I was being feminized. We had discussed whether
it was appropriate to begin a medical program to introduce estrogen
into my body, and electrolysis to remove my body hair permanently.

	My nights were filled with doing all the things Sarah wished
me to do. I did the wash, cleaned the apartment, did the cooking, and
the shopping. Each minute I was occupied doing those things, I thought
of her and the pleasure I received being with and being for her.

	Of all the times that were good, the morning was the best. I
would awaken early to make coffee, to draw a bath, to lay out her
clothes. Then I would awaken her, and go to draw her bath. When she
joined me in the bathroom, I would remove her night gown and help her
into the tub. Then I would bathe her from hear to foot, most
especially the breasts and mons and anus.

	After her bath, I would dry her and powder her, and then lead
her to the bedroom. I would kneel before her and hold her panties
while she stepped into them. Then, depending upon what she was going
to do, I would dress her for her runs, or for whatever. Dressing her
in going out clothes was a joy, the feel of her legs as I rolled the
nylons up her calves and thighs, the feel of her as I fitted her into
a bra and clasped it in the front or back. The cradling of her foot as
I slipped her heels onto her. All of it intoxicating and enamoring.

	All of these feelings, all of these delights gathered me
deeper and deeper into her aura. My state was one of total arousal;
each day I waited for it to wane yet it never did.

	After some months, my body began to change, it started to
soften, my penis began to get smaller and stay smaller, my breasts
began to enlarge, my body hair started to decrease, and with that the
dressing activities began to accelerate, and finally too did the
beginnings of a sexual relationship.

	I remember the first night vividly. I had prepared a light
dinner, and afterwards she had sat and sipped her tea while I sat at
her feet. My hair by that time had grown quite long, and she would run
her fingers through it and sometimes brush it for me. She liked to
style it, and was constantly changing the way it looked and the way I
looked as a result.

	I had lost quite a bit of weight, and the weight loss together
with the hormones had really begun to alter my body significantly. I
had started to have almost a breast, my hips had begun to fill out,
the hard tone of my legs began to dissolve into something more
feminine, even my voice had begun to change, to soften.

	I loved the winter. When we went out then I could wear a bra
beneath a blouse and sweater, and the slight rises in profile pleased
me immensely. I could wear women's jeans, with the sweater pulled over
the label, and boots up to my knees.

	Sometimes, I could find myself dressing in completely female
clothes, and still be able to go out.

	I was thinking about that, as Sarah took me by the hand and
led me to the bed. There she unbuttoned my blouse, and lowered the cup
of my bra to lick and lave my breasts before running kisses up my
chest to my shoulders then along my neck.

	Then she ran her hands down along my sides. Lying back on the
bed, my hair fluffed up against a pillow, my blouse undone, my breasts
encased in a bra, my female lover kissing and caressing me.

	Soon I felt a longing in my groin, a longing I had not felt
for years; then her hand slipped beneath the hem of my skirt and began
to run along the inside of my thigh up above my stockings, to the pale
skin beneath my panties and garterbelt. "Do you like this?" she said.
I moaned a yes, and she continued to kiss me deeply as her hand ran up
my panties, and then worked its way across the back. I felt her
pressure for me turn over to my side and my back, but the luxury of
her touch restrained me. Slowly I began to roll to my side, and then
to my stomach.

	I felt her fingers as they began to inch my panties down
beneath my buttocks to my mid thighs, and then the caress of her
fingers across my derriere and then along the opening between my
cheeks.

	Finally I felt her finger as it began to circle and then probe
that deep magical part of me.

	Then I felt her her begin to probe me with something other
than a finger, I relaxed and patiently awaited that which was to come.

	Soon I began to feel filled, as this strong solid object
entered into me. I felt the warmth of her pubic region as it ground
into my buttocks, the pressure of her breasts along my back, the humid
warmth of her breath into my ear, and then we both began to shudder as
this incredibly strong orgasm ran through both of us.

	Later as I lay on the bed, Sarah began to stroke my hair and
neck. As she did so, she began to whisper in my ear that this was just
the beginning. The future, she said would hold much more.