"What is it?"
"It's what you wanted. The recipient will become addicted to sperm.
Perfect for you to get your blow jobs, no?" The old chinaman had a grin on
his face.
"It's what I wanted. What's it made of?"
"Oh, ginseng, ginger root, eye of newt, androstenone, the usual."
He shrugged his shoulders.
"How long do the effects last?"
"Ah, it's very strong. Depends on the recipients willpower, you
know, to break the addiction."
"Okay, how much?"
"You are a first time customer. To you, fifty pounds."
"Fifty pounds! For this tiny bottle and no guarantee!"
"Oh, mister, I guarantee it. The ingredients are very powerful." The
man held out his hand for the money. I reached into my wallet and pulled out
a fifty pound note for him. He took it and pulled out a couple of pieces of
crinkled paper for me. "Instructions, and my card, if you should need my
services again." With that, he waved and turned away into the street.
The instructions were simple, just get the recipient to ingest the
contents of the vial. But how was I going to get my beautiful, rich,
intelligent, but let's face it, boring girlfriend to ingest the contents? Here,
honey, drink this and you'll do anything to suck my cock. No, I don't think
so. Mix it in a drink? I guess, but the stuff had the consistency of sperm
itself, and it wasn't going to mix easily. Probably the best bet would be a
thickshake or on ice-cream. I don't suppose it's odd, I was really fascinated
as to whether this stuff would actually do anything beyond induce a
psychological reaction, much as any suggestion might. Maybe it would be
better to tell Jane what I was giving her, then at least I could see whether she
would accept the proposition.
So that's what I did. I told her when she came over that evening.
She wasn't particularly impressed by the idea, but was fascinated by my
account of the old chinaman and what he said he could do. She wasn't so
impressed when I buckled to pressure and told her how I had found him, by
scouring gradually harder and harder pornography until I had found him in a
fetish contact mag. When forced to admit why I'd gone to all the trouble I
admitted that it was because our sex life was incredibly dull, and that I
wanted to experience much more from the sexual world, and because I
wanted to experience it with her, I'd determined to try anything, no matter
how fanciful.
"And you are now prepared to make me become addicted to sperm in
order to satisfy your own desires for abnormal sex?"
"Oh, come on, Jane! A blow job is not abnormal sex!"
"It is to me! Would you like to put a smelly, dirty big willy into your
mouth and suck on it until it ejaculates, and then you swallow it or choke?!"
"Of course not, but then I'm not gay. It's a natural thing for girls to
do to guys. I'm quite happy to go down on you, but you won't let me."
"That's your own perversion!" This really wasn't working out like I
hoped, as a little bit of fun.
"It's not a perversion. Anyway, I only got this stuff for a bit of fun.
It doesn't work. But I thought if you just tried it once you might just enjoy
it."
Jane stopped raising her voice at me to think for a second. "Okay,
sweetheart. I don't think it will work, but I'm not going to drink it. In fact,
it looks so much like your liquids that I think you should drink it, just to give
you an idea of what you would like me to suffer. In fact, I'll do you this
once only deal. If you drink it, and slowly, so that you can feel the texture,
I'll consider giving you what you want. That way we'll be even."
Way! Jane was offering me a blow job just as long as I would drink
the contents of the bottle. Easy, and to consider her giving me a blow job
was worth all of the fifty quid. You have to imagine, this girl accepted my
feeble chat up lines after the rest of the university's eligible males had been
failing for three years. Nobody had ever got a blow job off Jane, and now
she was offering me one. I removed the cap from the bottle, and allowed the
goop to slide into my mouth. I swilled it round. It was chewy, slightly, and
salty with a hint of ginger. It stuck to my tongue, cheeks and teeth, and I had
to screw up my courage to swallow it, when it's slow slide down my throat
almost caused me to gag and vomit. Jane's jaw dropped as she watched me,
and then I swallowed the last drop and smiled at her.
"You bastard!" She gasped. "I didn't really want you to do that!"
"Okay, your turn." I winked at her.
"I said I would consider it."
"Oh, come on, you can't back out on me. We had a deal!"
"Look, go and shower, and I'll consider it."
I couldn't really argue, and anyway I wanted to wash the salty taste
out of my mouth. I went to shower, taking especial care to wash my dick,
fully expecting Jane's final decision to rest on such details. I returned to her
wearing only a towel. I found her waiting for me in bed, wearing her
nightdress.
"Come here and lie down." She gestured to her side. God, she was
beautiful. But why the nightdress? I lay down on the duvet. She removed
the towel revealing my soft dick. She got out from under the cover and sat
astride my knees, and began to inspect it, carefully. The method was not
erotic, but my cock will respond to any stimulus, and rose accordingly. She
finished her inspection, pulling my foreskin right back, eliciting a cry of pain
from me. "Sorry," she said, biting her lip. She looked so cute it was
unbearable. "Okay," she said, taking a deep breath, "here goes!" With that
she placed her mouth over the head of my cock and began to suck, moving
her hand up and down in time with the up and down motion of her head. I
gently slowed her down, or speeded her up, or repositioned her as necessary,
without adverse comment, but making appreciative noises when it felt good.
She quickly caught on, and very soon I could feel the pleasure in my crotch
rising with each motion, and I had to lay back and enjoy the sensation.
Women often don't realise, but the combination of the control, the sensation
from the mouth, the possible danger, and ultimately the sheer feeling of
having a woman at your crotch, worshipping your cock, makes a blow job
the ultimate experience. I only had to consider for a moment that Jane, the
most beautiful and untouchable woman I knew, was fulfilling my desires,
and I came in explosive bursts, firing blasts of cum deep into her mouth.
Oops, she was coughing. She hadn't been prepared for that. I sat up and
went to hug her. She quit the coughing and ran to the bathroom, where I
could hear the tap running rapidly. When she returned, she went to sleep on
her side of the bed, without a word.
I had wonderful dreams that night. Jane was giving me blow job
after blow job until my prick ached. Then she would kiss me after each one,
and her lips tasted as sweet as honey, and I just wanted more and more. I
awoke with the feeling that I had just wet myself! I felt down around my
dick, and there was a wet, sticky mess over my stomach. I pulled my hand
up, and discovered that I'd just had a wet dream. Nocturnal emission was
the name for the result, I recalled. I don't know why, but I put my hand to
my mouth for a taste. I licked, and it was sticky and salty, exactly as the
chinaman's potion had been, but without the ginger. It was quite odd, but
fascinating. I took another lick. Jane moved towards me and I put my hand
back under the cover quickly. She stayed asleep. I carefully got out of bed
and headed for the bathroom.
I looked at my stomach in the mirror and decided to clean it off, but
even as I ran the water I got the oddest feeling. I couldn't waste this stuff! It
was like I'd decided to throw away Sunday dinner without eating it, or
thrown ten pounds down a drain. What was I thinking? I began to scrape
off my cum with my fingers and run them under the tap. I began to get the
most awful ache in my stomach. Something compelled me to raise my
fingers to my mouth, and I licked and sucked the cum off like it was syrup.
The ache left my stomach, and I felt a feeling of satisfaction. In a daze I
entered the shower to wash anything else away.
I woke up to myself. I'd just obeyed a compulsion to eat my own
cum! The potion that the old chinaman had given me was bloody well
working! No way! It must be just a psychosomatic reaction, especially with
the vividness of my dreams last night. I got out of the shower and got
dressed for college. Jane awoke, and didn't even wish me good morning,
silently getting ready for her own lectures. I made breakfast, and sat down
for ten minutes in front of the TV, only hearing the closing door as she left
without saying goodbye. Boy, was she pissed. Shortly I left for college.
The day really dragged by. As it progressed, I began to notice a
growing ache in my stomach that reminded me of the events in the bathroom.
As the ache got worse, I began to get a headache and feel nauseous. Soon, I
was seeing double, but he worst thing was, I was seeing double of all the
crotches of the guys around me. My head began to fill with images of hard
cocks, dribbling cum, and I began to associate the pictures with the males all
around. As I finally caught myself considering licking the cum from a cock I
struggled out of the lecture I was in and ran weakly for the toilets. I locked
myself into a cubicle and began to jack off furiously, finally squeezing out a
splattering of cum into my hand, which I raised to my mouth and greedily
licked clean. The aches and weakness began to dissipate as I sat on the toilet,
and finally I had roused enough to get out. I scrubbed my hands and face,
and noted my pale complexion in the mirror. Now I was convinced. I had to
get back to that chinaman.
I searched the flat, tipping out drawers and throwing out boxes. The
notes that the old man had given me were nowhere. Neither were the
magazines that had led me to him. Jane must've done something with them!
I called her immediately at her home.
"Jane, thank God you're there!"
"Oh, David, it's you."
"Jane, I need to know, did you see any pieces of paper lying around
the flat last night?"
"I don't know. I don't really think we should be talking."
"Please, Jane, did you?"
"Look, David, I'm not sure I ever want to see you again, and you're
worried about a couple of mangy pieces of paper that are unintelligible
anyway!"
"So you have seen them! Where are they?"
"I might have seen them. Do you have a problem?"
"You wouldn't believe it if I told you. Could you please tell me
where those pieces of paper are? I have to talk to the old chinaman!"
"David, I don't want to see you, and I'm not going to tell you where
they are. I hope that stuff poisoned you. But if you tell me the problem, I'll
give the guy a call to sort you out. After that, the papers are going to get
burned so that you can't get these stupid ideas into your head again.
Understand?"
"Jane, let me have the number, please."
"Tell me what to tell him. I'll call you back."
"Oh, Christ, Jane."
"No need to swear, I'll just hang up."
"Alright! Tell him the damn stuff worked, and I need to know how to
stop it."
"It worked? You meanÉ"
"Yes, I mean I have an addiction to sperm, and I need to stop it.
Right now."
"Oh, well, let me see what I can doÉ"
"Hi, is that mister Chow?
"Speaking."
"I have a small problem. My boyfriend came to you recently to
purchase a potion, which he took, and he is now addicted to sperm."
"That is not a small problem, my dear."
"What do you mean? There is an antidote, I presume?"
"Ah, no, there is only his willpower. To go cold turkey, as it were."
"How can he do that?"
"Well, with women it would be much simpler, as they have no ready
supply of the fuel for the addiction. Your boyfriend does, however, so
cannot remove himself from an easy source. He could just try to live with his
problem, though he might find that eventually he will need to get sperm from
another source, as he begins to need more and more."
"You mean he would have to get sperm from other guys?"
"Yes."
"Oh, I hadn't thought of that. He would have to give them blow
jobs, right?"
"I suppose so."
"And if he was cut off from his own supply of sperm, he might try
that anyway?"
"Certainly. He must obey the compulsion if his will power is too
weak."
"Could you produce something that could cut off a guy's supply of
sperm? Like to make him impotent?"
"Of course, madam, though such mixtures often have side effects."
"Like what?"
"Well, I use a good deal of female hormones in the mixture, to
dampen the effects of male hormones already produced in the body. This is
what results in the reduction in sperm production. If you wished for a
permanent impotence, the strength of the potion might cause the development
of female sexual characteristics in the recipient."
"How could one dose produce that effect?"
"The recipients own body is chemically coerced into maintaining the
effect."
"I'm interested. If you can do all this, can you make potions to make
women beautiful, enlarge their bust size, etc."
"Bust enlargement can be induced by fooling the body into believing
it is going through puberty again, with massive hormone doses and other
powerful herbs. Skin can be softened from within by inhibiting melanine
production and detoxifying the body. Diet drugs can form the perfect
hourglass shape, or can be targeted to shape particular areas. Bone and
muscle mass can be increased or decreased. Head hair and nails can be
induced to grow at four times their normal rate, whilst bodily and facial hair
can be much reduced in visibility. I cannot reshape faces or change the
colour of eyes, but modern medicine and contact lenses can cover those
areas."
"Can you get me potions to do all of those things?"
"Including the impotence?"
"Yes. How much and when?"
"Meet me next to the chinatown gate, this evening at eleven. Bring
what you might expect to pay for what you ask. In cash."
"Oh, and do you do things to like, you know, change peoples
perceptions?"
"Temporary attitude adjustment?"
"I'm not sure about temporaryÉ"
"We will talk more this evening."
I picked up the 'phone as soon as it rang. It was almost midnight,
and I had been expecting Jane to call. "Jane!"
"Good evening, David. Have you eaten?"
What? Oh, the bitch! "Yes, thank you. Dinner was a couple of
hours ago."
"Oh good. Are you dressed?"
"I'm in bed." I said, curious.
"I'm on my way over. Ten minutes."
She put the 'phone down. I wondered what she could be coming
over for? She had said she didn't want to see me again, and that she would
just get in touch with the chinaman for me. Did she have to bring over the
cure?
I dressed, and minutes later Jane let herself in. She came into the
bedroom and poured out a whole bag of vials onto the bed. "This lot," she
said with a wave, "is your cure."
"So many?"
"The gentleman did say that you could only cure yourself of your
addiction, but we realised that many things stood in the way of that, because
you have a source of sperm so readily available, and no one could suggest
that you be tied up for the weeks it would require to gradually free you of the
compulsion. You have to be able to continue with some kind of life, so all
this is required, and I've added one or two things to make sure you never
want to try this kind of thing again."
"What do you mean by that? To make sure I never try this kind of
thing again?"
"Well, now I see that you wished to turn me into some kind of
whore, and, let's face it, it makes me feel sick. I was pissed off with you for
what you did last night, after I gave you what you desired even though it
disgusted me, but I was even more pissed off when I found that the potion
worked, and I realise what you wanted to turn me into."
"Look, Jane, I'm really sorry. I explained that I thought it was all a
joke. That we were just going to play out a fantasy. I didn't realise it would
work."
"No, and it's pure luck that I'm not the one addicted to sickly male
effluence. Anyway, just drink this and we'll get started." She handed me a
purple vial.
"What is it?"
"That one cuts off your own sperm production, so that you can't feed
your addiction yourself."
Hmm, okay, I took the top off and drank the contents. It was a
burning, orange flavoured liquid that I swallowed quickly. I handed her back
the empty bottle.
"Great!" She laughed happily. "Let's see what happens now." She
gave me a quick kiss and then packed the rest of the bottles back into her bag
and stood up to go.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"Home. You have my number. Call me to tell me how things are
going." With that she turned and left.
"What about the rest of the cure?" I called after her.
"You'll get it, all in good time!"
The aches didn't kick in until about lunchtime the next day. Don't get
me wrong, I'd been fighting the urge since I awoke, but I recognised the
aches as a sign of deprivation. I headed for the toilets and began to jack
myself off. After a couple of long, painful minutes I orgasmed, but on
looking at my hand, I had hardly cum. I slurped up the few dribbles that
were there, but my pain was only lessened by the tiny amount. I tried again,
but the second orgasm produced nothing but an ache in my dick and balls. I
began to panic. I ran out of the toilets and out of the college, heading for
home. I lay down on my bed there beating myself off in despair but I was
beginning to realise that the only place I could find cum would be someone
else's cock.
Perhaps I was dreaming, but some kind of numbness was clouding
my head and with it, the pain, as I wandered around the streets. I had no
destination in mind, but somehow I got there anyway. I stood at the bus
station, with a few other late night hopefuls. A car pulled up, and I got in.
The guy drove around the corner and into an alley. There was no talk. As
the car stopped I opened his fly and bent my head down to his growing
penis. I took it in my mouth and began to suck on it like a lollipop, with my
hand wrapped round the base frantically urging the cock to cum for me. He
tried to slow me down, to raise my head but I forced his arms away and
pinned him to his chair. It didn't take a minute, before the greasy piece of
meat retched it's sickly liquid into my mouth, and I gulped down every last
drop like it was ambrosia. I left the car, and allowed my head to clear. Oh,
shit! What had I done? A replay of the incident came unbidden to my mind
and I threw up over the pavement, hot salty vomit stinging my mouth. I held
myself together enough to force my legs to run, wildly aiming for my home.
I sat on the bed, and stared at the telephone. Had she known this
would happen? Had she done this on purpose, sending me out to suffer the
fate that I had wanted her to suffer, to taste the foul fluids that I had forced
her to taste? Should I trust her to help me? There was no lower I could go. I
utterly despised what I had put myself through, and felt the humiliation of
performing a violently abnormal act. My heterosexuality was protesting my
rape at the hands of this addiction. I needed help. I picked up the 'phone.
"Jane?"
"Oh, hi there, David. How are you getting along."
"Please come over, Jane. I need help. The addiction is getting
stronger."
"I see. And did the new drug work?"
"It did."
"So you should be able to throw the addiction off then."
"No, like I said, it's getting worse."
"How could you feed it?"
"I'd really rather not talk about it."
"Oh. Oh!" I heard a muffled laugh. Then a pause. "I'll come right
over!"
"So which bottle is it now?" I asked.
"That depends. You see, any one of these bottles now will be acting
on aiding you to act within the constraints of the addiction, rather than beating
it."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, like tonight I assume you went to get sperm from some kind of
donor?"
I grimaced. She took that as a yes.
"You see," she explained, "you performed an act that no heterosexual
male could ever consider.
The addiction overcame your willpower completely. I don't think
you can overcome the addiction and live."
"You're shitting me, right?!" I looked at Jane in horror. She smiled
at me. I thought it an odd expression, containing as it did a hint of humour,
yet her face remained serious.
"I don't know." She replied. "There's three things we can try. I can
tie you up and leave you alone to break the habit cold turkey. I think you'll
die." She looked down for a second, almost as though she was sad about
that fact.
"Number two?" I asked.
"Numbers two and three are in these bottles. This bottle," she said,
picking up a red vial, "this bottle contains a very powerful mind altering
formula. I can use it to turn you into a homosexual, or at least a bisexual
who doesn't mind sucking men's cocks. At least you won't mind the
humiliation that your addiction will put you through." She looked at me as if
to say 'is this what you want?' I shook my head. She continued. "The rest
of the bottles contain formulae which should remove the initial cause of the
problem Ð the desire for a blow job Ð and thus give us a platform to build on
for healthy removal of the addiction."
"What do they do?"
"Well, they will weaken you physically, and mentally, making it
harder to act on the impulses of the addiction Ð you wouldn't be able to force
someone to 'donate' their sperm, which might have otherwise resulted in
violence." I thought back to earlier events. It could be useful if I could be
more easily stopped. "They will make it a more attractive proposition for you
to request sperm, a proposition which you should then be able to resist."
"I thought you said I would be mentally weaker?"
"Yes, but only in that you will find that you don't feel the same urge
to have sex, or to go out even. You will not desire to fulfil your addiction in
the circumstances."
"So, overall my willpower should be able to overcome the addiction
after I take these things."
"Yes. You should find that you will have a far stronger desire to
avoid succumbing to the addiction than you had before." Was there a grin, or
was that a smile?
"So which formula do I drink first?" Now I definitely saw a grin.
What was Jane hiding? I guess I would find out, but, on reflection, I'm glad
I didn't go for that mind altering stuff. I'm not so sure I could trust herÉ
Across the evening I drank the contents of nearly half of the vials.
Jane would not permit me to take any more as she had only given me the
formulae that could be mixed. The rest might be too much for the human
body. The effects should be fairly pronounced, she said, though she did not
expect to see anything for a few days. I did ask her if she could return the
number of the chinaman to me. Of course, she responded with a smile, but
only if you promise me that you'll marry me, and you'll never want me to
give you a blow job again. She laughed then. Was she just kidding me
around now? I was serious. I did agree to marry her. She asked if I would
ever want a blow job again. How could I not think about it?! I couldn't
swear to something like that. She laughed again. "Soon," she said, "You
will never want another blow job again!"
I woke up, and Jane was gone, with the rest of the bottles. I felt
awful. Now I wished I hadn't taken so many of the drugs at once. Well,
based on the experiences of the other two, these would definitely work, and
probably very quickly. In fact, one thing was already working. I felt very
weak. A sort of flu feeling had come over me. I struggled into the bathroom
and looked myself over in the mirror. I looked awful. I was pale and drawn,
and looking exceptionally tired. Just one thing told me it wasn't flu. I was
feeling very hungry, and I looked like I needed it.
Of course, I still felt that slight hunger for sperm. Rationally, I knew
that my own sperm supply had been cut off, but that didn't explain the feeling
I had that I didn't have any desire to masturbate. Perhaps the drugs were
having the right effect, and I would be able to control my urges.
Breakfast was a full fried breakfast. I had a taste for butter, and I
drank milk instead of juice, which I hadn't done for years. In college, which
I forced myself to attend, I felt hungry after the first lecture, but nothing that a
chocolate bar couldn't sort out. Lunch was cheesy pasta, and after that, I felt
the other type of hunger begin to strengthen. I called it a day after the next
lecture, when the aches began. I went home intending to sleep through it. I
failed. That evening I was back at the bus station, and I went through the
same humiliation all over again.
Jane did come back over in the evening, without bottles. She
questioned me about my day, then asked me her question once more. "Will
you never want a blow job again?" There was an odd gleam in her eyes.
"How can I answer?" I replied. "With you sitting there I could
appreciate a blow job right now, now that you mention it."
"Oh, David! You're intractable! Okay, listen carefully! There was
no cure for your addiction apart from cold turkey. We could have tied you to
a bed and I could have sat here and looked after you, but I'll admit, when I
spoke to your Chinese friend I suddenly decided that I was going to teach
you a lesson for making me eat your cum. Now, you're going to spend a
long time getting to like it yourself. You see, over the next few days, if the
efficacy of the last two potions was anything to go by, you're going to watch
yourself turn into a woman. Just think about it! Long hair, smooth skin,
curves and tits. No-one is going to refuse you when you ask to suck their
dick. I told you that this method would just help you within the confines of
the addiction, and yes, your addiction will get worse as you feed it. I also
said that this method would act on your original desire for blow jobs. In fact,
you're going to come to hate blow jobs and never want to give one again, but
that's all you'll be doing.
"And the remaining bottles. Well, they will make you physically
more feminine, such as softening your facial features, and accentuating your
curves. I'm going to hang on to those until you ask me for them, because
you will. You won't like being a masculine woman, because that won't get
you boyfriends, and that won't get you sperm.
"Goodbye, David. Be sure to give me a call when you want to
become more of a woman."
My jaw dropped to the floor. Jane took advantage of my shocked
state to head for the door before I could even think of saying anything, let
alone acting. The slamming door aroused me, but when I chased after her,
she had already disappeared. I returned to my thoughts. There was no way
this could happen. Could even the old Chinaman's drugs be that powerful?
But then, I had no male hormone production, apparently, so there was
nothing in my body to prevent such a thing occurring except for the fact that I
was a male. I had to get in touch with the old Chinaman again. Jane wasn't
going to help me, and there was no way I could get into her parents' home,
or find any small items of paper in the vastness of it. I was going to have to
start from scratch searching the contact magazines, and the sex shops.
I awoke the next morning with a rabid hunger again. And once again,
only a fry up could fulfil it, along with two pints of milk and all the cheese
that my fridge contained. A look in the mirror told me that I was changing. I
was much thinner, and I could see my waist disappearing. Fat seemed to be
accumulating on my chest, under loose folds of skin. My beard had grown
overnight, but the hair seemed thinner. It was easy to shave, though my skin
seemed more sensitive. I did head into college, but again left at lunchtime,
and even then I could see the stubble appearing on my face. Why was my
beard growing so quickly if I wasn't producing male hormones? It did
appear to be thinning, though. Was all my hair growing as quickly?
I fought the cramps and cravings until much later that evening. I
joined the gathering late night crowd at the bus station but nobody came to
me. I finally approached a client, but was told I looked awful. In
desperation I offered to suck him off for free, which I did. I returned to my
rooms and went straight to sleep.
The next few days were much the same. Each morning I awoke to
find my facial hair grown long, but thinning until it finally wasn't growing at
all. The hairs on my arms and legs thinned to become short and blonde,
barely showing against my skin. The skin itself became much smoother, and
any traces of spots disappeared. My waist slimmed, whilst my hips and
backside put on a cushioning of fat, helped along by the huge quantities of fat
I was eating. This also provided for the most obvious difference, the growth
of a small pair of breasts on my chest. My hair had grown almost an inch in
the week, and my nails too, probably, though I cut them short.
The nights at the station were getting later, as I think I felt a lessening
of the sperm craving. I felt a general lessening in desire and notice that my
penis barely ever grew to erection, and might even have shrunk slightly.
Perhaps I could throw the habit, though there was one major problem, and
that was that my sperm sources were only available at night, but by extending
the periods between doses I would end up in the day. On my last night at the
station I had been mistaken for a woman, though I didn't enjoy being called
'the ugly bitch'. Especially not when I was then forced to suck cock but
didn't have the strength to resist.
At the end of the week I decided to try to skip one night of torture in
order to try to break the addiction. I did sleep well, but was woken at five in
the morning by killing cramps and a craving that literally threw me onto the
streets. Of course, the streets were empty. I tried masturbation for the first
time in days, but my cock wouldn't even harden, and no matter how good the
stroking felt, I couldn't cum. I staggered home a couple of hours later,
having been thrown out of two hotels and told to fuck off by a tramp, who
also called me an ugly lesbian. In desperation I called Jane. I can't
remember what I said, but within half an hour she was at my bedside. I told
her how no one wanted a blow job from an ugly woman. She simply gave
me some more formulae to take, and I took all that she gave me, though she
held back one red vial. She also took out a small test-tube, and told me to
drink the contents. It was cold, but it was cum. I almost had hallucinations
of pleasure, and the cramps left me so quickly I hit a high. Unfortunately, I
realised just as quickly what I'd just done. Jane had given me the formulae to
turn me into a better looking woman. I'd requested it because I wanted to be
able to get cum during the day, in order to break my habit, but in trying to
break my habit I was ruining my own life.
"Never mind, darling," said Jane, "I'll look after you, even though
this is all your fault."
"It's not my fault that I look like this!" I responded.
"No, of course not, but it is your fault that I made you look like that."
She grinned wickedly. "You can't go to college any more, 'cause there's no
way you'll pass for David Evans any more. Why don't you come to live at
home with me?"
"How could I possibly live with you?"
"Actually, my father is looking for some new staff. You could be a
maid."
I almost choked in my shock. "I'm a man! How can I be a maid."
"You don't look like a man, dear."
"I'll throw off this fucking curse and I'll get back to normal, and you
can just fuck off home and leave me alone. You've done enough damage!"
Jane's face dropped. She looked utterly stunned that anyone could
talk to her like that. She recovered slowly. "David, or Davinia, or whatever.
I'm your only connection to recovery, and I'm not letting you get back in
touch with anyone who could help until I've watched you learn your lesson.
I'll leave you now, but I'll be back, and I'll think over whether I want you to
get better or not. Goodbye!"
She left. I lay there in torment.
I left the house only when I had to, and that was to get food and to
satisfy my addiction. My transformation continued unabated. My waist
shrank, my hips expanded, and my tits grew to enormous proportions. I had
to shop for clothes, including new jeans and underwear. Nothing fancy, but
I needed bras. That was hugely embarrassing. Nobody treated me as
anything other than a girl out to buy a bra, but I thought they were all
laughing under the surface, seeing me for the man I was. But no man took a
38D bra. My skin got smoother and paler, and my facial hair disappeared.
My hair grew quickly down to my shoulders and I allowed my nails to grow
with it. My face and body softened and curves grew more pronounced. My
face hadn't been bad looking for a man, and it became quite striking, with my
blue eyes seeming to get bigger and brighter, and more pronounced against
my growing, and gleaming dark hair. I was tall, slim, curvaceous, with a
pretty face and a large chest. Men, and women, noticed me when I went out.
I did manage to delay my cravings daily. In the day now, I could
walk into any bar when it opened in the morning and be giving head by
lunchtime. I began to dress like a woman when I went out and apply make-
up so that when I needed to satisfy my addiction I would be certain of getting
a response. But I never let anyone get into my underwear.
I gave up college as a lost cause and took up my search for the
chinaman in the red light district of the city. I began to charge for my
services when I felt the need to provide them, and this gave me a modest
income to finance my search. I searched non-stop, because I hadn't spoken
to my family in two weeks, and I wouldn't have a clue what to say to them.
They wouldn't even recognise my voice. Another reason for my non-stop
search was that I still couldn't stand giving head. It's not something a guy
can get used to. I had my habit down to once every two days and I figured
only another two weeks to break it. By then, I could be back to being a guy
if I could only find him.
Then, one afternoon, I found Jane waiting for me in our flat. "David,
is that you? Wow, maybe I should just call you Davinia. You haven't called.
How are things?"
"You know exactly how things are, Jane." I spat out.
"There's no need for that tone. I just wondered if you'd thought
about my proposition about a job?"
"I'm getting along just fine, thank you."
"Sit down for a second." She motioned toward the settee. "Let me
get you a drink. Coffee?"
I nodded. She got up to go to the kitchen. Within a minute she was
back, with two mugs. I took a sip of mine. Too sweet. I was trying to cut
down on my sugar but perhaps she had forgotten.
"How is it?"
"A little too sweet."
"Sorry. How is your problem?"
"I've almost broken the back of it." I responded, taking another sip.
"I reckon I could get rid of this addiction soon."
"Oh." Jane seemed a little surprised. "And then what will you do?"
"I'll find the chinaman and get him to turn me back into a guy, and try
to get back to my life."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that what?"
"I mean, are you simply going to get straight back to your life? Are
we just going to continue as we were?"
I took a gulp of the sweet liquid. Was there some other odd taste in
it? "Are we going to continue as we were? No, I hardly think so. Not after
what you've done to me."
"You started this!"
"And I would've stopped this."
"Do you really believe that? Do you really think that if I had been
happy to suck your cock for you whenever you wanted it you would have
stopped me?"
"WellÉ"
"Well, what? It's the truth, isn't it. It hurts for you to be feeling the
way you do but you would've been happy for me to undergo exactly the
same treatment. It would have made you feel great to see me begging to suck
your cock? Wouldn't it?" I could do nothing but stare at the dregs of my
coffee. "I thought so. That's why I don't want you to escape the poetic
situation that you're in now."
I looked up at her in shock. She laughed at me. "No, I want you
stuck like that, or worse, as I please. That's why I put the mind altering drug
in your coffee." I was stunned. I tried to get up, but I couldn't, and the
effort made me dizzy. I passed out to Jane's continuing laughter.
I woke up lying on the settee. Jane was still sitting opposite me.
"What happened?" I managed to croak.
"I've just reset a few mental processes, that's all."
"What do you mean? What have you done to me?"
"Don't worry! I haven't done anything to you. I mean, I've left you
as essentially you. Otherwise what pleasure would I gain from watching you
suffer? I could have turned you into a mindless slave, but to what purpose?
There's no fun in that."
"So you didn't do anything?" I was confused.
"Oh, no, I did do things, so that I could make you suffer and enjoy it.
I've implanted into your subconscious a desire to follow my commands,
making that desire as strong as your desire to drink cum, so the more cum
you drink, the less you'll feel the need to do as I say. Fair, huh?" I just
stared at her. "Anyway, I need to test it out and to prove to you that it works,
so when was the last time you drank cum? If it was recently, then you won't
need to obey me. So, David, stand up!" I felt the compulsion in the words,
and stood almost as though it had been my own idea, not even having time to
consider opposing the command. "Oh, I see, it must have been some time
ago. Well, sit down, and let me think of something really juicy." I sat, and I
realised that a simple solution to this latest predicament would be to get out of
earshot of Jane. I tried to stand, against the compulsion to sit. Jane noticed.
"Stay sat down!" This time there was no escaping the constant in the
command. "It seems that commands can be continuous. Hmm. I have it!"
She laughed. "Oh, you're going to love this one. David, I want you to
become a woman. You're going to go down to that red-light district that you
love to inhabit and find a back street surgeon who'll do you a sex-change
operation as soon as possible. Don't worry, I'll pay, just as soon as you find
one. Remember, if you go drink some cum, you might not feel the need to
obey the command." Jane was laughing like someone had cracked the
world's greatest joke. "Oh, God, David, don't you get it? To avoid the
commands I give you, you have to drink cum, and that feeds your addiction,
making it stronger. Oh, if I don't stop laughing, I'm going to pass out." She
managed to calm herself down.
"Jane?" I managed to ask. "Why are you doing this to me?"
"David, my poor David. Because I hate you. I didn't, but I do now.
Only there's a really strange thing, and that's that I prefer you now, and I'm
beginning to really get turned on by the thought of you being a proper
woman. I want you as a lover again, but without the penis, because that
always stood between us." She started to laugh again. "Get it? 'Stood
between us!' Ha, ha!" She stopped again.
"Now, off you go and get yourself a sex-change, there's a good girl."
I stood up to leave. "Wait, David, just one more thing." I turned back to
her. "Your name is not David, anymore, it's Davinia. You won't respond to
David, but you respond to Davinia because that's your name. Okay, you can
go now."
I wasn't wandering aimlessly through the streets. I knew exactly
where I was heading. I didn't want to go there, but somehow I couldn't
refuse. Various doctors were contactable through various offices advertised
in the magazines I'd been reading in order to find the chinaman. I was
headed for one of those offices.
As I walked, I thought. I have a choice. Give a guy a blow job, and
not become a woman but feed my addiction, making it worse again, or
become a woman and perhaps break the addiction. I really didn't want to
become a woman, because that would be the end of my life, but if I fed my
addiction, I would also be feeding Jane's power over me. Ultimately, she
would only have to repeat the command, and it would be so strong that I
would do it. My choice became stark. Either become a woman, or become a
cock-sucking woman enslaved to Jane's commands. "Davinia," I said to
myself, "you might as well become the best woman you can be!"
And so I ended up at a private clinic, which was one of the most
expensive in the city. I booked a surgery for the following day, which they
would honour, as long as I came with the cash, and signed away my life on a
few legal documents. I returned to the flat, and found Jane waiting for me
again.
"How much do you need, Davinia?" She asked, pleasantly.
"Four thousand pounds, in cash." I sat down in the settee.
"Anything else you'd like me to do before I head off to bed?"
"Well, you have got a long day tomorrow. You know what though, I
really want to give you something to remember before you head off to your
surgery. Take off all your clothes." I stood and stripped down to my bare
skin. In the cool of the room my nipples became erect. "Stand still, like a
mannequin, and close your eyes." I did exactly what she said. What the hell
was she going to do now. I tried to open my eyes, but it was as though I
simply wanted to keep them closed. I felt something touch my cock, and
begin to stroke it. It responded, slowly hardening. The next thing I felt must
have been my imagination, but there was warm breath and warm wet lips
moving onto my cock. Jane's mouth was around the end of it and her hand
was gripping the base. It felt so good! As Jane sucked on my head, I began
to moan in appreciation. She continued her pace relentlessly, drawing gasps
and groans from me as the pleasure of each stroke mounted toward a
continuous whole. Then she moved her mouth off my end, and moved her
hand up to where her mouth had made my dick wet, and smoothly and
expertly masturbated me to the edge of a growing orgasm, where she held
me, tantalisingly. I almost didn't hear her whispering in my ear "You will
always feel this good as a woman, Davinia, whether you are licked, sucked
or fucked you will feel this good and better, as you will be able to orgasm for
as long as anyone is willing to make you orgasm. There is a small price to
pay, and that is that every time you feel this good, you will remember me
giving you a blow job, and you will feel the shame of not having a penis
anymore, and you will feel the shame of being the receiver in sex, and not the
giver. This shame, this humiliation will always remind you that you used to
be a man, but it will never detract from your pleasure in sex. In fact, it will
make you more feminine, more submissive, and more wanton, against
whatever you might will or wish. Your pleasure will increase, and your
shame will increase." With that, she slid her hand just a little faster over my
foreskin, and drew me into an orgasm that was ruthless in its intensity. It
must have gone on for an hour, or it just kept restarting, over and over. But
Jane didn't stop her motions, and I passed out.
I awoke still standing, and realised that I could move and open my
eyes. Jane was gone, it seemed. I headed for the bedroom and simply
collapsed.
I awoke to Jane sitting on the end of the bed. I could feel the aches of
a craving coming on. She pointed to a bag on the floor. "Cash." she said
simply. "Oh, unless you went out last night you must be aching for some
sperm right now. Well, fair's fair, I can't stop you from having any, because
that would prevent me having any more fun with you, so I'm not going to
stop you. But if you have some now, you might not turn up for the
appointment." I hoped Jane couldn't see it, but through the pain I was
beginning to smile. I might escape after all. "So," she continued, "You're
not going to have any until you've arrived for the appointment. In fact, you
are not to have any until you are offered some whilst you are at the hospital,
and you are to make no attempt to get some offered to you.
"You must take this bag, without opening it, and when you get to the
hospital you may open it to take out a letter to give to your surgeon. You
must agree to anything he asks concerning the surgery. Okay, that's it. Get
dressed and go now!"
I got up from the bed without a word and put on my bra and panties,
jeans and a t-shirt. I slipped on a pullover and a pair of plimsolls. Hoisting
the bag over my shoulder I set off for the hospital, churning over in my mind
plans for escape. Surely I could get away from the operation if I were to be
offered some sperm, but how was I to get hold of some if I couldn't attempt
to get some offered to me. On the other hand, if I didn't have any sperm
before the operation went ahead, I must surely break the addiction, as the
operation would keep me immobile and unable to satisfy my craving. Either
way, I must come out a winner, and Jane, with all her plotting and planning
was not going to get any further satisfaction out of me.
Why did she do this? Why did a seemingly harmless, lovely girl take
up arms against her lover? Why did she seem to hate me so much? All I
wanted was a bit of fun, but this had been taken to extremes in her reaction.
The extreme was now approaching. I could lose my masculinity altogether.
Was that it? This was all to remove my reason for wanting a blow job in the
first place? This really was extreme measures! Why? And why me? Why
did I start all of this?
I was almost in tears when I reached the surgery. I went to the desk
and my appointed surgeon was called and took me to his office. There I
signed a couple of forms and handed over the letter and cash. The surgeon
read the letter. When he had finished he asked, "Are you sure you want me
to follow these instructions to the letter?"
"Yes." It was automatic. I didn't even know what the letter said.
"Okay, I'll call in a couple of orderlies."
A couple of minutes later they arrived, and the doctor spoke to one of
them quietly behind the desk. Nodding, the orderly motioned for me to
follow him. I did, and we came to a prepping room with an empty bed in it.
He told me to strip down, put on a gown that was hanging near the bed, and
to get in, then to call him when I was ready. I did as he asked, being unable
to do anything else. I was desperate to get some sperm. Because of the pain,
yes, but also because this operation was getting too close for comfort.
The orderly returned, and as I was laid down he and his companion
quickly strapped me onto the bed. In moments I was unable to move. "What
the fu Ð" I began, only to have it cut off by a large hand being placed over
my mouth. Then the surgeon arrived. He took a small bottle out of the bag
that I'd brought and undid the cap.
"Your letter said to say that this is a present from Jane. I really don't
understand why you people put yourself through things like this, but
anyway, she says it's a present from her new lover. Here, drink."
He passed the bottle to my lips, and as the hand moved away I could
smell the distinct aroma of sperm. I raised my mouth straight to it and shot
my tongue inside, greedily licking out all the slimy, salty mucous inside. My
pains subsided to an elated, relaxation. I almost passed out. What a genius
she is, I thought, distractedly. She has me tied down here with no escape
and no release from my addiction. I felt a prick in my arm, and passed out.
I strapped on the heels, and took a turn in front of the mirror to check
my appearance. The white crepe cap was positioned centrally on top of a
mass of wavy black hair that fell unchecked over my shoulders and down to
the centre of my back. My dress was cut low at the front, the white lace trim
revealing a thrusting cleavage, held out by my 38EE bustier, which was what
I required following the surgery. The corset was also a new fact of my life,
as the only key to the lock on the back was held by Jane, and my nineteen
inch waist was still being shrunk. The black dress almost ended at the waist,
which was held tight by the strap of a white lacy pinafore. The lower part of
the dress would just cover my backside as long as I stood up straight, but
didn't cover the tops of my stockings, and the lower parts of the suspenders
holding them up. Neither, if I bent forward, would it remain covering my
ass, whose only other protection was a black g-string, which was way too
tight and rubbed against the insides of my pussy lips constantly. The
stockings were sheer, sliding smoothly over my pins right down to the four
inch heels which kept me permanently tottering on my toes.
I looked back at my face. All the bruising had gone. Another 'side
effect' of the operation. You see, Jane had paid for more than just a simple
sex change, she'd also included a boob job and some facial restructuring,
including the rounding off of my jawline, slightly enlarged cheekbones,
slight enlargement of the eyes and a nose job that gave me a pert upturn to the
end of a little nose. Other cosmetic changes were a chemical peel which
smoothed the skin and implants into the lips. I was Davinia, and the male
Davinia, or was it David, was no more than a memory.
But those memories were my memories, even if physically David was
no more. He was mentally inside me, especially when I had sex. I
remember the first time, I suppose you could say the time I lost my virginity.
Jane met me at the hospital, and brought me to her home, where once a night
she would come in to my room and kiss me, and always there would be
sperm in her mouth, which I would eagerly accept. Then, a few days after
she had removed my bandages, she came into the room with Eddie Vincent,
my best friend. Seeing my shock she simply told me to shut up and watch,
which I did, waiting as I was for my evening dose of cum. I watched her
kneel in front of Eddie, and release his dick from it's zipper, then proceed to
lick, suck and fondle it until Eddie was bucking and groaning, and spurting
his cum all over her face. That's when she got up and came over to kiss me,
sending just the tiniest taste of his sperm into my mouth.
"If you want," she whispered, "I'm sure you can get Eddie to give
you some more." There was no command involved, just that that tiny taste of
sperm had sent me wild with the craving, and I could not resist getting out of
bed and sucking his cock for all it would produce. Eddie allowed me to suck
the little that was left off his cock, but that was not enough, and I kept
sucking and fondling it until it became hard again. Against my protestations,
Eddie stopped me then, and lifted me back onto the bed, and though I fought
for his cock there was nothing I could do. Then it entered me, with no word
or warning, and I was dumbstruck by the presence of it. Eddie was inside
me, and his cock was stroking my insides. I don't know if it felt good or
bad, it simply felt. It was like nothing I have ever felt before. I was fulfilled
by its presence, as though it should have been there all the time, and I was
entranced by its motion, as I felt it sliding in and out. Any excitement
produced was suddenly tempered by an enormous feeling of desperation as I
realised my new position, as a man being fucked by a man. I felt a wave of
humiliation wash over me and I tried to object to my treatment, but when I
opened my mouth only a moan escaped it. I went red with embarrassment
and tried to get out from under Eddie, but my weakness and my position
made my attempts useless, and served only to increase my humiliation as I
realised my impotence. But another emotion was encroaching upon my
senses. My humiliation and my submissive situation only served to turn me
on as I realised Eddie's dominance and his power over me. I responded with
increased passion to his motions, and began to cry out my pleasure. I
couldn't keep quiet, I couldn't stay still, I just wanted more of Eddie's cock
inside me. I began to scream in frustration, but it became a scream of
pleasure. I was getting fucked and I couldn't do anything about it, and
because I couldn't do anything about it, I wanted more.
But the best new sensation came when Eddie orgasmed, because the
sperm that he produced gave me an incredibly powerful high as it somehow
satisfied all my cravings, and anything else that needed satisfying. Jane
noted the reaction with pleasure. From then on, she made sure that I was
fucked every night by one of the male staff, or Eddie, and every time I hated
it, and tried to avoid it, but my desire for cum would make me do it, and then
I would end up enjoying every last second of it like some sex-crazed whore.
But, of course, apart from servicing the staff, I was here to work,
hence the uniform. I was always fucked before bed, so by lunchtime the next
day I was already beginning to feel the cravings of my addiction. So Jane
had power over me for almost all of the day. Even in the mornings I could
barely resist her 'requests', so I served the whole family obediently as a
maid. Apart from serving breakfast, most of the work was unsupervised
until dinner, and for the rest of the evening I would wait on Jane and her
family. Jane had included some commands in my training for evening work,
which included always dressing as sexily as possible, walking with a
pronounced wiggle, and talking in a breathy whisper.
Jane had long since discovered that she could give me permanent
commands, that would affect me as long as I could not resist them. Thus, in
the mornings, I did not have to dress sexily if I resisted the impulse to do so,
but by lunchtime I would be getting urges to change into lacy lingerie and
minidresses. I could resist until the cravings for cum became too strong to
resist, then I would dress myself up. In my early days of work, this was
taken as a sign that I was ready for sex. But I could never really resist the
commands that long, and it was easier to give in to them, so that eventually I
was didn't even remember to try to resist them. Thus I began to always walk
with a wiggle to my hips, and to talk huskily.
Seeing my compliance, Jane began to add other commands. As a
result, I began to always wear make-up, and higher and higher heels. I went
about my job with grace and pride, and an increasing submissiveness, as I
began to react naturally to orders and requests. I guess I became more
feminine, and certainly became more flirtatious with men, under Jane's
tutelage. I was gradually becoming a slave, to whoever wished to command
me, and my actions constantly begged male attention.
One evening, Jane took me with her to her room. She had me sit
down. Then she spoke. "I've had fun, Davinia, great fun, but it's beginning
to pale. Now, I can't decide. Should I allow you to become more addicted
to cum, or to break the addiction? I can make you suck cock more than once
a day, or I could prevent you doing it at all. What should I do?" She looked
at me for an answer. I didn't know what to say. "You enjoy your life now,
don't you?"
"I don't think so, ma'am." I replied. I had been instructed to call all
my employers 'sir' or 'ma'am'.
"You enjoy the sex, though, don't you?"
I thought a little about it. I was forced to enjoy it, and I had to do it,
but underneath, I resented it.
"Don't you?"
"No, ma'am."
"Then I guess your training isn't quite finished. I can't let you free
yet. I guess I'll have to get rid of the old you completely. We'll start with
that old command I gave you about remembering your dick during sex. That
can go. And thenÉ"
I looked myself over in the mirror. I was wearing nothing but my
lingerie and a leather collar. The collar was padlocked around my neck, and
the key was at this moment being given to my next john, along with a leash
that would clip onto the collar. I heard the door. A man came in and I
dropped my eyes instantly to the floor. He came into the room and walked
around me, clipping the leash to my neck as he went. The next thing I felt
was a brief moment of choking as he yanked me over to the bed and tied the
leash to the headboard, with me lying face down. He yanked up my backside
with strong hands and then he must've dropped his trousers so that he could
take me doggy style. I was getting wet with anticipation for a great fucking,
and then I felt the strap. Right across my soft cheeks! I squealed in pain and
shock.
"You have been a naughty girl, haven't you, Linda?"
I don't know who this Linda is and I don't care, but he probably
does. "Yes." I managed to say.
SMACK! "Yes, what!?"
"Yes, sir!"
SMACK! "And are you sorry?"
"Yes, sir!"
SMACK! "Yes, sir, what!?"
"Yes, sir, I'm sorry, I'll never do it again!"
"That's good, Linda, but I'm still going to have to punish you."
"That's all right, sir, I deserve it!"
"Yes you do, so prepare yourself for five more with this belt."
"Yes, sir!"
SMACK! "Count them!"
"Unh, yes, sir. One!"
SMACK!
"Two."
SMACK!
"Three."
SMACK!
"Four."
SMACK!
"Five!"
"That's very good, Linda. I'm sorry I had to do that. Perhaps I can
kiss it all better?"
The poor john was crying. "Yes," I replied, "you can kiss it better."
With that I felt his lips and tongue begin to explore my backside,
quickly homing in on my crack, which by now was sopping wet in
expectation. When he discovered this he removed his mouth to replace it
with his cock, which was exactly what I wanted. At last I felt it pushing
against my cunt lips, and with a little wiggle of my ass it slipped inside.
It was small, not even filling my hole even in this position. I pushed
back against the john, but it wouldn't come in any further. However, my
action had caused the john to heat up, and I could feel him getting close to a
climax. His urgency was compelling, and I could feel his dick inside me
moving faster and more wildly. The realisation sent a shudder of pleasure
through my body, and his pounding against my recently belted backside
caused sparks of pain through my waist area which increased my sensitivity
and my pleasure. As he came inside me I came too, feeling that constant
elation that I get from a fresh supply of sperm. As I lay back down, he
reached across me and took the leash off my collar, and released the padlock,
setting me free. I lay there until he left, however. These johns can often be
very touchy about the girls seeing their faces.
"It's time to come home, Davinia." Jane was standing at the door,
but I didn't look up. She came to stand behind me and clipped the leash onto
my collar. She lead me to the cupboard and pulled out a leather suit for me to
put on with a pair of 4 inch high heels. When I was dressed, she led me to
her car and drove me back to her home. There she sent me to my room and
told me to get dressed. I went straight to my old cupboard, and pulled out
my old uniform. When I was properly attired, I returned downstairs to
where Jane was waiting.
"Now, Davinia, it's time to see whether you've learned your lesson,
finally." Another door to the room opened, and Eddie came into the room.
He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and he looked so hot I started to drip, but
I dropped my eyes straight away. Jane stood to whisper in my ear. "Here's
the deal. If you refuse to have sex with Eddie when he asks, then I'll undo
everything I've done to you, and I'll drink a vial of the chinaman's hypnotic
mixture, so that you can do to me what you like. You had sex just before I
picked you up, so you have no compulsion to obey me, or desire for sperm.
Oh, and if you do have sex with Eddie, then I'm going to transform him into
a girl, for betraying me, only I think I'll leave his dick for the both of you to
enjoy." Jane turned and headed for the door. As she got there, she turned to
Eddie. "I'm going into town for an hour. Davinia here will give you
anything you need."
The door closed. Eddie ran to the window and watched Jane's car
head down the drive. He headed back over to me. "Davinia," he said,
softly, "I've missed you so much!" With that his lips moved down to mine,
and I melted into his arms. I tried for a moment to resist, but when his hands
reached for my breasts fireworks began to go off in my head and I couldn't
think straight. When he told me to strip I did so without question. When he
told me to lie down on the couch my juices began to flow in hungry
anticipation of his ripe cock. I tried to mention Jane's deal, but he told me to
stay quiet and I complied with his every word. I realised that I was waving
away my life, and probably his, but I felt unable to do anything other than
what he said. I was only there to do as he wished and to fulfil all his desires.
As his hands roamed my body I grabbed for his flies and yanked down his
jeans. His expanding member sprang into my hands and I began to stroke it,
imagining its length inside me, whilst fearing the consequences. Yet as Eddie
slipped closer toward me, the consequences retreated from my mind, and my
body began to beg for sexual release.
"You betrayed yourself, Davinia, my dear, and you betrayed Eddie.
Well, you didn't, but your body did, and now that I have trained it and you,
I'm going to allow you to graduate from the Jane Richardson Finishing
School. You may leave here, and do whatever you wish, or stay, if that's
what you'd prefer. You could stay and help me convert Eddie into a she-
male slut. Anyway, this is your last command from me. You will not ingest
any sperm until you have broken your addiction to it. You know it will
work. As your compulsion gets stronger, so will your obedience. When
your addiction is broken, you will be free."
I spent the next five days in bed, with Jane looking in on me, and
various nurses and doctors visiting. I spent the time either asleep, under
sedation, or in pain. Pain so bad that sometimes I wished I was dead, but
there was no relief. On the sixth day the pain was gone. Jane kept me in bed
for one more day. I was well fed and watered, but she wouldn't allow me to
get up until she was sure I was fully recovered. I did as she asked.
That evening, I received a new visitor. Jane came in with a maid that
I didn't recognise. She was striking, being taller than Jane, and with an
impressive bust thrusting forward in her dress. Jane introduced her.
"Davinia, meet your replacement, Edwina."
I moved to get out of bed. "No, no, Davinia, stay there a moment if
you would." I complied with the instruction. "I would like for you and
Edwina to get to know each other." Jane turned to Edwina. "Here is the
reason for your present predicament, Eddie. Perhaps you'd like to express
your gratitude to her."
With that, Edwina's face turned red. "You bitch, Davinia!" She
screamed, but it was Eddie's voice.
"No, Eddie," said Jane, calmly, "not a bitch, but a bastard. You see,
that's your friend David."
"That'll make this all the sweeter." Stated Eddie, more calmly, as he
approached the bed, a growing bulge appearing in his skirt. He raised the
skirt to reveal his hard erection, the second part of him which I recognised,
and I realised I was about to get raped. For the first time in uncountable
months I did not need sperm, but when I saw that cock I didn't care, I
wanted it. Within seconds my juices were flowing, and I meekly submitted
to every indignity that Eddie laid upon me. Every slap was a seduction of my
will, and every bruise bore testimony to my passion, but the pleasure of that
strong prick overrode all feelings. I wanted nothing else.
Eddie threw me out of Jane's house straight after that incident. I
returned to the city where I now work as a hooker, and live in the brothel. I
had to join a brothel, because I kept forgetting to ask for the money when I
was on the streets. You see, I'll do anything for sex, including go hungry,
though I can nearly live off cum if I try hard enough. In the brothel I have a
manager, and she keeps me fed and clothed. In return I get about twelve
johns a day. The manager wants me to do some modelling, but I'm happiest
in bed, doing any service my man requires. Any man.
You have read this article Forced Femme Stories
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