New! Corporate Makeover

When the Fashion House where I worked was bought out, my wife’s connection to the Exec that headed-up the Takeover, saved my position. Or did it? Because I now find myself in a very subordinate and to be honest emasculating position.....   

By Priscilla Gay Bouffant

Chapter I: Mystical Monet

    The buzz around Cartier’s Fashions, White Plains offices wasn’t just about the sale of our US holdings, to Rula Habib Beauty and Fashions Inc. It was also concerning the woman that was coming in to “Reorganize” our Corporate Structure. Her name was Monet Montes.

    
Monet was of One-Half Thai ancestry, from her gorgeous mother, as well as One-Half Azores Portuguese on her Father’s side. She was tallish and leggy with pert, firm, pointed breasts. Depending on who one spoke to, she bore the label of “The Ice Queen,” “The Hatchet Lady,” or simply, “That Cold-Hearted Bitch.” 

    As gorgeous as she appeared in person, she was as equally condescending and smug to deal with. As she strolled thru the offices  on the day she arrived, surrounded by her all-female staffers, she “Held Court” as haughtily and gratuitously as humanly possible.

    I worked in Finance at Cartiers, a Canadian company based in Montreal. I’d moved to the US when Cartier’s had opened it’s Boston offices. It was there I met my wife, Sheree Antoinette Bordeaux, like myself a French Canadian transplant that had taken on US citizenship. 

    As was in Sheree’s case, I had been Christened in a very French Canadian fashion as Marcel Guillaume Montreux. Sheree had a fabulous job as a Hospital Administrator for the Tri-State Adventist chain, and oversaw their operations throughout New York, New Jersey and Connecticut.

    Her salary and perks, far and away, outstripped my compensation at Cartiers. I was employed as the Assistant Director of Finance. Our department very likely employed most of the “Straight” males at Cartier’s. The rest, which included the Fashion Designers, the hairdressers, the cosmetologists, and the set designers were primarily homosexual.

    Though, my male secretary, a slightly built Cambodian, named Devi Seng, was frequently teased about being a Pansy, to my knowledge that wasn’t true. I’d hired Devi as my Admin, at my wife, Sheree’s, insistence.

    “Marcel? If you think for even a moment, that I would allow you to employ a Piece of Eye Candy, who is an air-head Bimbo, you would be living in a Fantasy Land,” my wife Sheree, with an MBA and a graduate of Wellesley in Massachusetts, had remarked. 

    Upon the day of her arrival, Monet Montes began to conduct interviews. A number of males, most who worked in finance, resigned even prior to being interviewed. Others were let go as their secretaries had brought up sexual harassment claims to Monet. In fact, those very same, Over-Qualified, Underpaid females were immediately promoted to their bosses’ former positions.

    I wasn’t interviewed that 1st day. During dinner that evening I informed Sheree, “Well, I may be looking for another job soon.”

    “And that is due to what reason, Dear?” Sheree asked, in a very unconcerned, condescending manner. 

    “The woman who is fronting the Takeover for Rula Habib, doesn’t seem to look fondly upon male staffers,” I announced.

    “Don’t be ridiculous. Your position, or at least your salary is completely safe. As well as Devi’s. I discussed this just last week with Monet Montes,” Sheree replied.

    “What? I mean? Wait? Are you saying you spoke with Monet Montes last week? I wasn’t even aware you ever knew of her?” I stammered.

    “Of course I spoke to her and why wouldn’t I? We were members of the same Coterie at Wellesley. We’ve stayed in touch since we graduated. I knew of the Buy-out even before you did. I just couldn’t mention it until it went public,” Sheree shrugged casually. No differently as if she had asked me to pass the Chablis. 

    “I let Monet know that both you and Devi were the type of males that she could possibly tolerate. Males who are very obedient as well as compliant and subservient. You won’t let me down, will you Marcel? You wouldn’t dare embarrass me in front of my Coterie Sister, would you, now?” Sheree asked, with raised eyebrows.

    “Of course I won’t dare shame you my love,” I said softly, prior to taking a sip of my white wine.

    I couldn’t help myself of course. I’d married an heiress. And not just any, wealthy heiress. I’d married an extremely well-educated female, with an MBA, and a fabulous position with a well-known Health-Care corporation. Tri-State Adventist owned and operated a chain of facilities with over 150 Hospitals, Surgical Centers, Primary-Care Offices and Clinics. 

    And Sheree had connections and influence. When she was making her move from Boston General to her current position, she saw to it that I was given not only a transfer, but a promotion to my current Assistant Finance Director job, with Cartier’s in White Plains.

    “As I have already stated, Marcel. Your salary is safe and you will be employed. Though, I simply cannot promise you that you’ll still be the Assistant Director of Finance,” Sheree announced calmly.

    Sheree firmly believed in a Female Led Relationship and our marriage clearly reflected that stance. Her decisions were final. She was the aggressor in our lovemaking, and a stern disciplinarian when she felt that I had somehow erred. I’d spent more than one occasion over her knees being spanked for my indiscretions. 

    Indeed, she was correct concerning my job placement. During my interview with Monet Montes, the following Monday, I was told that Monet was now the CFO as well as the Director of finance. 

    “I’ve promoted from within and assigned Janelle, who worked for the former director, to become the Assistant director,” Monet explained.

    “Marcel. You will be working directly under me with your desk just outside of my office. Your title will be, Executive Personal Assistant. You’ll be happy to know that Devi will be employed as my receptionist,” Monet smiled. 

    Essentially I was now a glorified Secretary to my wife’s Sorority Sister. Though, my salary was essentially the same and as a perk I would now receive both a “Grooming, as well as a “Proper Office Attire” allowance. That evening at dinner, I filled Sheree in. 

    “Well then, Marcel. I would hope that you would use your expertise to assist Janelle along with her new duties? That would be the proper thing to do, don’t you think? Instead of being jealous as well as Catty?” Sheree said, with raised eyebrows.

    The following morning when I entered the office, I passed by Devi, who somehow looked different? I Knocked on the glass door of Monet’s office, and she motioned me in.

    “I’d like you to run some errands for me first thing, Marcel. Right over there, against the far wall, is a rack of items I need dry-cleaned. The cleaners in the lobby is very good, I have been told. So you can take those there. And please do get a receipt. I saw a drugstore just down the hall from the cleaners. Here is a list of both Beauty and Feminine Hygiene products that I need filled,” Monet winked.

    “Do you think you can handle that, dear?” Monet asked.

    “Ah yes. Ms. Montes. Is there anything I can do to assist Janelle with getting up to speed in finance? My wife Sheree believes that would be the proper thing to do,” I said, already blushing. Simply thinking about the humiliation concerning the looks and possible comments, I’d be getting from the cashier at the drugstore as I checked out with a cache of cosmetics and feminine hygiene products. Especially the sanitary napkins and the flavored, scented douches.

    “I’ll speak to Janelle concerning the financial department. You just get going along on your errands, sweetie,” Monet smiled.

    Just then, a blushing Devi entered Monet’s office.

    “Ms. Montes? My landlady just contacted me. She said that after speaking with you, it won’t be any sort of issue for me to drop my lease, considering the wonderful opportunity you are extending to me,” Devi gushed.

    “That’s wonderful Debbie. She sounded very reasonable when we spoke. Most accomplished businesswomen are very reasonable. That’s how we rose to the top. Marcel. Doesn’t Debbie look sensational since the ladies at the Beauty Parlor in the lobby, thinned his brows, added that cute arch, and gave him that delightful Bobbed styling?” Monet asked.

    That was what had looked different to me when I’d seen Devi that  morning. His eyebrows were thinned and arched, as well as penciled in. Plus his hair had been girlishly Bobbed. And was Monet calling him “Debbie?” I wondered.

    “Ah, yes ma’am, Ms. Montes. I agree,” I said, not wanting to upset Monet who just might speak to my wife, Sheree. 

    I left the office, pushing the rack that contained all of the attire belonging to Monet that needed to be dropped off at the dry cleaners. I handed the attendant the type written instructions Monet had provided. After getting a receipt, I went to the drugstore. That got very embarrassing. I couldn’t locate various brands of cosmetics or Ladies Feminine Hygiene products that Monet had specified, and I had to find a saleslady to assist me.

    “That’s just so cute. Are you shopping for you, your girlfriend or your wife? Oh? Your lady boss? What an adorable secretary you must be, to shop for her cosmetics and Feminine Hygiene accessories? By the way, my boyfriend loves it when I use the strawberry flavored douche,” The saleslady remarked enthusiastically. 

    At dinner that evening, while Sheree looked over my shoulder at the Stock Market report on the Big Screen TV, I related my day at the office. Sheree would glance back at me on occasion, giving me stern, eyebrow raised looks, and I became more intimidated by the minute. It wasn’t until the “Closing Bell” show had concluded that she weighed in on my comments.

    “Well, I guess that was sweet of you, to drop off Monet’s cleaning as well as go shopping for things like Lipstick and Tampons? Correct me if I’m wrong, though, but isn’t that part of your job? She can’t possibly send Devi, I mean he answers her calls, doesn’t he?” Sheree asked.

    “I hope you weren’t just spending the past 30 minutes or so complaining about the way my Sorority Sister is treating you. I won’t be tolerating that sort of repartee every evening at dinner, Marcel,” Sheree concluded that portion of our discourse.

    “And why all the concern over the relationship between Devi and Monet? The way I see it, Monet is the Exec and Devi is the receptionist. The phone rings, Devi answers the call. Monet says “Jump” and Devi should ask her, “How high should I jump, Madame?” Sheree added.

    “So you say Devi is moving from that overpriced, cramped, little apartment and will be living rent free at the Executive Condo which Cartier’s Fashions provides for Monet? I’d say that this is a fabulous opportunity for Devi to increase the balance in his savings account, Marcel?” Sheree said, becoming slightly annoyed.

    “And, I don’t see a problem with Devi getting his hair Bobbed or his eyebrows waxed and arched. Doesn’t Cartier provide a grooming allowance? What if Monet did influence those salon choices? Devi is, for the most part, a secretary. He should look his very best for his boss, and in line with his superior’s strict standards. As for Monet calling Devi, Debbie? If that is the case, maybe they’ve already developed a good working relationship and that is some sort of “Pet” name that Monet is using in a Fun way?” Sheree shrugged.

    “You have far too many concerns over just about nothing Marcel, and you are beginning to disappoint and annoy me. And you very well know what could happen if Mummy Sheree becomes too very  disappointed in her Little Boy, don’t you Marcel?” Sheree asked.

    “Yes ma’am,” I agreed, shamefully.

    “Now, did you do what I recommended and offer Janelle any assistance she requires of you?” Sheree inquired.

    “Yes I did, darling. I spoke to Ms. Montes concerning that and she said Janelle would be contacting me if she required anything from me,” I said.

    “Perfect, darling. Come over here and give Mum-Mum a kiss then. And stop worrying, and please do not complain about Monet? That’s Mummy’s good boy. Oh, what a sweet, sweet kiss. Yum. I need a nice foot rub and a shoulder massage. Come to Mummy’s boudoir and I’ll show you how you should behave with a Lady Executive,” Sheree added, dragging me along by my hand.

    I fell onto the bed with Sheree. We were both casually attired after getting home from the office. As always Sheree initiated our sexual encounters and was the aggressor sexually. She began to unfasten my belt after she’d removed her top. As I slid my slacks and underwear off she removed her brassiere. 

    When I began to unbutton her slacks she slapped my hands away, showing once again she was the boss. Sheree was slightly taller than my 5 feet ten inches. She was trim and strong, and likely stronger than me, from her frequent access of the Executive gym where she was employed. 

    Her body and muscle mass were both very firm and it’s possible she outweighed me also. As we kissed fervently she bit my lower lip and rolled me over onto my back, so that she was on top of me.

    She unbuttoned my shirt so that she could pinch my nipples and rubbed her vagina against my penis. Sheree enjoyed very much being on top and in charge. She was especially pleased when she sat on my face, and ground her plump hips as well as her perfumed vagina against my mouth, as I sucked her clitoris. 

    At that juncture I was exceedingly aroused due to Sheree’s remarks. She’d vaguely threatened to discipline me if I continued to critique Monet, or Monet’s interactions with Devi. I also somehow usually became aroused whenever Sheree would speak to me as if I were an overindulged child, referring to herself as Mummy or Mum-Mum. Sheree used the pre-cum from the end of my cock to wet her pussy lips.

    She wasn’t shy about using a vibrator or dildo to pleasure herself whenever she was unable to engage me sexually. In that respect, her pussy was usually ready to receive a cock or faux cock. She was a very sensual lady. As she mounted me, she laid forward, pushing down upon me and holding my wrists tightly against the mattress. 

    “Aha. I have my sexy, hot, baby-boy, imprisoned beneath me, whilst I fuck him. I should put you into bondage, you whiny, little bitch-boy. How naughty of you to question the motives of my esteemed Coterie  Sister, Monet Montes? Bad, bad, boy, aren’t you sweetie?” Sheree teased.

    The way she pumped up and down upon my cock, as well as flexing her Pussy muscles to squeeze my penis drove me absolutely wild. Once she truly became excited, she would exhort me passionately. 

    “Get those Fucking fingers between my vagina and your Abs. All of them! That’s it! Now diddle my Clitoris and make me Fucking scream, you silly bitch,” she groaned sexily. 

    It truly was no wonder that I subjected myself to her domineering manner, as well as her commanding and controlling personality,  throughout our dating, our engagement and our marriage. She was the most amazing, dynamically sensuous woman I’d ever encountered. 

    Her quick, short gasps became more frequent. It was the only “girlish” or feminine show of emotion that Sheree ever exhibited, and it came in the throes of uncontrollable passion. As she reached the crescendo of her excitement, she pushed my fingers away from her clit and began to grind her pudenda and vagina forcefully against my abdomen. That always worked for her.

    “Fuck me. Fuck me harder you bitch! Is that all you have? Treat me like the vital woman that I am. That’s it, my bitch boy. Oh gracious, that is wonderful,” she groaned as she flexed her pussy on my penis. 

    I knew she was climaxing, and I was no longer able to control myself. My cork popped and my sperm streamed inside of her pussy. Sheree never wanted to have children and she always used birth control, leaving me free to ejaculate inside of her. My climax was amazing, especially with Sheree’s strong frame bouncing up and  down upon my cock.

    I laid there gasping and winded as Sheree laughed out, throatily, “Now you know what a good boy gets from Mummy, don’t you? Oh you sweet, sweet, darling Little Thing, you? You enjoyed that better than when you displease Mummy, and she has to take you to task, don’t you? Now tell Mummy the truth, Marcel?” 

    “Yes of course. I don’t really enjoy misbehaving. I like it so much better when I behave as a good boy, Sheree,” I agreed.

    “Well then, continue in that manner at the office next week,” Sheree insisted as she held me tightly in her arms and kissed me.

    My first day at the office the following week, I noted that Devi was in very early. Then as I looked closer, it was clear to me that Devi’s “Bobbed” hair was curled. And it wasn’t slightly curled. It was curled demonstrably, in what I suspected was a very tightly curled, permanent wave. 

    I could tell by the scent of his hair as I moved past his desk on my way to my own desk. The smell wasn’t much different from the odors I’d noted, the several times I had gone to the hair salon with Sheree, to have my own hair styled. A few times, on the drive home, I had remarked to Sheree concerning some of the pungent odors at salons. 

    “Most likely you are referring to the Ammonia-like scents of perm solutions, from ladies getting permanent waves darling. Also various types of hair colorings, tints and highlighting kits, give off a similar smell,” Sheree explained. 

    As I reached my desk and picked up a typewritten form, I greeted Devi by saying, “Good Morning, Devi.”

    He returned my greeting, though his voice was softer and to my ears, more girlish than usual. As I read the directive, Devi spoke up, once again in a distinctly, soft, girlish voice, “That’s from Ms. Janelle. I placed it on your desk, Marcel. She requires your presence in her office, ASAP, to discuss some things concerning her new position as Assistant Financial director.”

    One thing I noted was that Devi no longer called me Mr. Montreux as if I were his boss. He spoke to me as a co-worker. The 2nd thing I noted was his Androgynous, if not effeminate attire. He wore a white “Blouse” with a bow at the neck, which women commonly referred to as a “Pussy” bow. His slacks were definitely flared “Capri” style and his footwear assuredly had smallish heels. 

    I wanted to say something, but held in my emotions and thanked  him for being so efficient. Then I went to Janelle’s office, which once had been my domicile. Janelle was in, she smiled and offered me a seat.

    “First, Marcel. I want to assure you that I had absolutely nothing to do with the positional upheaval that took place during the Makeover. Sorry. I meant to say, Takeover. A makeover is one of those things we ladies have done so that we look prettier and more presentable. You boys never undergo anything like that, do you now?” Janelle smiled coyly.

    “I was surprised as you were when I was given your position. I was glad to hear that your salary remained the same, and with the office wear and grooming allowance your Benefits actually increased, didn’t they? I’d put up with Sexual Advances from my former boss, Edward, for some time. I’d never said anything,” Janelle said.

    “My partner at home, Roselyn is a female so I’m really not interested in men, romantically. Though I ignored the advances and stayed silent, when Monet asked me upfront concerning harassment, I felt compelled to be truthful. She let Edward go, tout-de-suite. That’s really all I wanted to discuss Marcel. The job is well within my business and educational skill-set. I do want to thank you for your cooperation. You may go, Marcel,” Janelle said, and with a wave of her hand, she dismissed me.

    I couldn’t believe what I saw when I returned to the office suite occupied by Monet, Devi and myself. Devi was standing, with his eyes closed and arms held demurely by his sides, with his wrists and hands held daintily and limp. Monet held an aerosol can which was labeled, “Breck Extra-Hold Spray Net Lacquer.” Monet was liberally spraying Devi’s new, permanently waved curls.

    As I stopped to observe, Monet commented, “Now there, Debbie. That should tone down the scent of the perm solution. You smell very pretty now. That was what you wanted all along, wasn’t it? To smell nice and pretty for all the girls at the office? Hello Marcel. Don’t you simply adore Debbie’s prettily, permed curls?”

    “Yes Ms. Montes. Devi looks very nice today. I just did speak to Janelle ma’am, to see if I could help her at all with the transition,” I said.

    “Yes, of course Marcel. Very well. Let’s get back to work everyone. We have a beauty and fashion design company to run here,” Monet smirked as she returned to her private office. 

    That evening at home I didn’t say a word about anything that had pertained to matters that had perturbed me that day at the office. Until of course, Sheree questioned me as we had coffee and Brandy after dinner. The glass or two of Brandy had obviously loosened up my inhibitions and I truly “Vented” my emotions. 

    It was definitely an incredibly foolish thing to do on my part and Sheree made me very well aware of her dissatisfaction with me. Immediately, I knew that there would be a very costly price to pay and that I would very soon experience emotions of distress for my hasty indiscretions. 

Chapter II: “Miss” Givings

    I’d done what I believed, would be everything I could possibly do to place myself back in the good graces of both Sheree and Monet. As I glanced furtively at myself in the wraparound mirror of Linda’s salon vanity, I couldn’t feel more foolish. I was wearing a white knit top, with a self-tied, off-center bowknot at my left shoulder, along with a set of wide-legged culottes with a waist-tie sash in the front. 

    The two and one-half inch, Kitten heels I wore were just becoming comfortable footwear for me. After a shampoo and condition I was about to have my hair, “Done.”

    Over the past several weeks, I’d been shown the error of my ways for speaking out at all concerning the way Monet Montes was running the office. Initially, Sheree had insisted that we discuss it as a couple, during after dinner drinks, prior to her bringing Monet into the picture. 

    After Monet provided her input, it was decided that I’d have a series of therapy sessions with DoctorJulia Colington. Doctor Colington was an older, mature lady with Gray hair interspersed with dark streaks that had obviously been professionally done at a trendy salon. Initially I’d hoped to be able to resolve things with Sheree but that was not to be.

    “I don’t understand your need to not only critique Monet for her handling of Devi, but, I just don’t understand your need to dote on your former secretary, Marcel? You know, I always thought that Devi just might be a closeted, Sissy Femme-Boy. And all my dear, dear friend and Sister, Monet is doing, is assisting Devi to find herself and realize her repressed dream of experiencing, her very, femme side?” Sheree expounded. 

    “Why don’t we invite Monet to dine with us this Saturday evening? You may plan, prepare, cook and serve the meal, as a show of your solidarity with Monet as your superior in the workplace,” Sheree suggested.

    When Monet arrived for dinner, Sheree had insisted I should be wearing a full, ruffled apron to show my place in the household as the principal homemaker, and Sheree as the top breadwinner. In fact, even when I was seated and dining, Sheree wanted me in the apron in case I was needed to serve either her or Monet. 

    Sheree kept a tall, thin-stemmed wine glass to her right. If she or Monet needed anything at all, such as some Chardonnay, Sheree would lightly tap the glass with the handle of a decorative spoon and announce, “Marcel? Chardonnay for Monet please?”

    At all times, when I spoke to Monet I was to refer to her as, “Ms. Montes.” It was extremely humbling. Some might say, humiliating. However my goal was to endear myself to both Sheree and Monet. Throughout dinner, I only spoke when spoken to, and listened intently to Monet and Sheree catching up, talking of old times, and discussing business maters that frankly, were above my “Pay-Grade” and understanding. 

    Everything went well, until our planned discussion concerning my “Issues” with the current workplace environment at what was now, “Rula Habib’s at Cartier’s.” I had just served after-dinner, Brandy and coffee. I was still in my apron, which mentally, might have placed me at a psychological disadvantage. Monet began the discussion by questioning me quite thoroughly.

    “So Marcel? Do you have any issues with your placement as my Executive Administrative Assistant?” Monet asked.

    “Well I was Assistant Finance Director,” was all I could think to reply.

    “Yes you were. However I found a better educated and more qualified candidate in Janelle, who’s talents, credentials and qualifications were obviously being held back by the Good-Old-Boy network. And besides. As I promised your spouse, Sheree, your salary wasn’t reduced. Do you realize that a woman in the same situation just may have suffered a pay-cut?” Monet asked.

    “Now. Explain to me, why you are concerned with me assisting as well as cultivating Debbie’s ability to come out of her very restrictive closet? Debbie happens to be very excited by her progression into femininity. She doesn’t show it in your presence however, as she feels you are judging her in a very harsh way,” Monet explained.

    “So, are you telling me that all along, Devi, has been an In-the-closet homosexual and you instantly discovered this in the limited time you’ve known him at Cartier’s?” I asked.

    “This is what I meant about you judging her. You refuse to use the name I assigned to her as she steps out into the world as a girl. Debbie enjoys her new name. She revels in it. I cannot get into the details. Those are personal to Debbie and me. However she came out to me. We hit it off almost instantly during her interview. It was just one of those very dynamic, Girl-to-Girl connections, that are difficult to explain,” Monet added.

    “And Debbie is hardly homosexual. She identifies as a female and is in the lengthy process of becoming a women,” Monet explained. 

    “I’m so very sorry, Sheree. I hadn’t realized that you were married to such a Chauvinist?” Monet said.

    “I’m afraid I hadn’t realized it either Monet, only until recently,” Sheree added, sadly.

    Before I could protest, Monet said, “Possibly some marital counseling and therapy could nip this in the bud, Sheree?” 

    “That isn’t such a terrible idea. Don’t you agree Marcel? Monet is trying to help both of us along here,” Sheree stated.

    The eyes of both Sheree and Monet, felt to me, as if they were boring thru me. I hadn’t a clue as to what I should say or do? I truly felt trapped and pressured, without anything to offer. 

    “Well, I didn’t expect this discussion to go this way. In any event, well yes. I could agree to that, if both of you estimate that counseling and therapy would be a viable solution,” I stated. 

    My sessions with Doctor Julia Colington began within the week. For the first few sessions Sheree was present and an active participant. Then, it was decided that I would see Doctor Colington privately. I continued to go to the Cartier office, and attempted to accept the goings on there, especially “Debbie’s” advancing emasculation. 

    “Now Marcel. As we agreed, you and I will have personal, private sessions. I have as much personal input as I need from Sheree. Sheree has also offered me a good measure of insight into the personal emotions of both Monet and Deborah,” Doctor Colington  began.

    “Debbie” now preferred being called “Deborah” or more specifically  she’d become Deborah Renee Seng. She wore skirts and blouses, or dresses to the office. Never did she wear slacks. She’d begun HRT to enhance her breasts and hips. Her lips were beginning to puff. I suspected those plumping treatments that women receive in salons, were responsible.  

    Deborah walked with a girlish wiggle and her voice was quite nearly  a sexy, breathless whisper. Her nails were always French Manicured and her hair and makeup were perfection personified. She seemed  very happy and Monet appeared ridiculously proud of her. I still thought it an aberration. Though, due to Sheree, on occasion, having me sleep separately from her, when she was displeased with me, I’d kept my mouth closed on the subject.

    I’d yet to realize any change in me that I could attribute to the therapy sessions. To begin our very first, private, personal session Doctor Colington point blank said to me, “I still sense that you are not accepting of Deborah as a female. I wonder if you still aren’t holding Ms. Montes responsible for Deborah’s emasculation?” 

    “Well yes. It seems quite coincidental, don’t you think? I mean as soon as Devi is demoted to receptionist, Monet takes control of his life, and begins to feminize him?” I asked.

    “How did Ms. Montes take control of his life? And can’t you imagine that Deborah saw something about Ms. Montes where she saw the opportunity to change her life?” DoctorJulia asked.

    “Monet had Devi move in with her to exert more control. What makes you think that Devi wanted to become a female?” I asked.

    “I only know what your wife Sheree has told me. She said Devi was always very feminine. She thinks you may have blocked that from your conscious mind due to the ridicule you suffered from your male peers when Sheree made you choose a male secretary? From what Deborah has shared with Sheree, she almost instantly bonded with Ms. Montes. She could feel that Ms. Montes already saw her as a girl and treated her as a female from the start,” Doctor Colington went on.

    “You do trust your wife Sheree don’t you? I mean do you feel she’d lie to somehow shield Ms. Montes?” Julia asked.

    “Well yes. Of course I trust Sheree. And no. I can’t see her protecting Monet thru deceit,” I agreed.

    “Well then. Just recently, Deborah shared with Sheree that she’s wanted to go En-Femme for quite some time. Since her teen years in fact. That is why she attended secretarial school. She hoped she could meet someone, male or female that could see her innate girlishness and help her proliferate her inner female. Ms. Montes became that person, Marcel,” Doctor Colington paused. 

    “I realize you cannot understand that. What I suggest is this. Continue therapy with me, and we’ll try and locate your inner, softer, more girlish self. I’m serious, Marcel. Together, with Sheree and possibly Ms. Montes and Deborah, you’ll be able to grow in the understanding of the LGBTQ community and movement,” Doctor Colington added.

    “It will help your marriage. Remember, your wife is a female. You need to understand her feelings and emotions as well. It will build a bridge with Ms. Montes, your supervisor. And it will reunite you with your former secretary, Devi, now living as Deborah,” Doctor Colington  promised. 

    “Tell me this, Marcel. Haven’t you ever laid down in bed with Sheree, and felt her soft, satiny negligee against you and wondered what it would be like to wear such a cool, soft garment?” Julia asked. 

    “I mean, possibly, I guess. Why? What difference would that make?” I asked.

    “I don’t know? If you’ve thought of it, why haven’t you investigated it? Are you insecure as a male? You would need to answer that question yourself, you know? How about this? Have you even felt a little left out, when Sheree returned from the salon, wonderfully excited, simply because she just spent a few hours being primped and pampered and spending some time with the girls? Doesn’t that appear to be a sort of very mystical and magical event to you, Marcel?” Julia asked. 

    “I have noted that she enjoys going to the salon, yes. I’ve been with her a few times, but never when she’s gotten a complete makeover,” I said.

    “Once again, Marcel. Don’t you agree you might be cheating yourself by not investigating the experience of a full makeover at a salon? I think we should proceed this way. I’ll make a list of things that you need to attempt, in order to make even a little headway in locating your inner feminine self,” Doctor Julia stated.

    “I’ll run it by Sheree to get her stamp of approval, or any addendums she just may deem necessary. We’ll continue our weekly sessions, and we’ll take it a day at a time. I estimate that within three months, you’ll sense a change and an uplift in your frame of mind,” Doctor Julia smiled. 

    Sheree simply loved the entire idea and the adventurous scope of treatment. The very first attempt we made together in order to seek out my inner, femme side, was for me to wear some satiny sleepwear to bed, similar to one that Sheree might wear. Sheree however was emphatic that there would be certain conditions surrounding the wearing of any sort of feminine sleepwear by me. 

    “To begin with, Marcel darling, I want you to have your very own luxurious, nightgowns and negligees. I’ll not have you wearing my lingerie. Secondly we must prep your body so that you will be able to absolutely relish the proper enjoyment of wearing feminine dainties,” Sheree insisted.

    “So, we must denude your body of all nasty, male hair, from the neck down. In fact, it wouldn’t hurt to properly wax and thin your eyebrows. Let’s get started with shaving your legs,” Sheree suggested. 

    Sheree taught me how to shave my legs, “Pubic Bush” and underarms, prior to introducing me to the correct use of depilatories. As I viewed the hair from my arms and chest swirling down the shower drain, Sheree was drawing a scented bubble bath for me in the tub. While I luxuriated in the ultra-feline scent of the bubbly bath oils, Sheree Zip-Waxed and thinned my eyebrows.

    Once I had toweled off, Sheree introduced me to the magical mysteries of body lotions, powders and moisturizers. With my long, shoulder-length, freshly shampooed and conditioned hair still wet, Sheree combed it through, and then twisted it into a ponytail, which  she tied with a red-ribbon, atop my head. Then she motioned to one of the guest boudoir suites, complete with bath and sitting room. 

    “We’ll be placing all of the new things we purchase for you in this boudoir. It will be your room when you are Marcella. Do you understand? I won’t be permitting you to dress in any sort of girlish or androgyne apparel and use the name, Marcel. Tomorrow we’ll be purchasing your new sleepwear, footwear and we’ll have some salon treatments done,” Sheree explained. 

    “For this evening, you may wear these satiny Harem Pajama’s and kitten heeled bedroom slippers which I obtained for you this week in the hope you’d wear these,” Sheree said as she pointed to the bed in the very femininely appointed boudoir.

    “Just two more items, Marcella, and I’ll dress for bed. At that time  you may join me for some very passion filled lovemaking. When I was a student at Wellesley, I found that making love to a female was far different and could be far move erotically and emotionally charged than making love to a male could ever be,” Sheree revealed.

    “I know my dearest, darling spouse. Until this moment I never, ever, divulged this information to you. However it is true. And now, as you are about to experience a modicum, albeit, a joyous, very desirable, fragment, of female to female promiscuity, I desire that your involvement be whole and fulfilling,” Sheree said, as she gently and lovingly touched the side of my smooth, scented face. 

    “There was always a particular perfume I preferred my girls to wear. It was called White Shoulders, by Elizabeth Arden. It’s still available. Here is a bottle. May I anoint you with some, my love?” Sheree asked.

    “Why yes, of course, Sheree. I never knew that you wore that perfume?” I said, surprised.

    “I don’t. But my girls always did, as you will, Miss Marcella. I prefer Opium. However the scent of the two melded is incredibly devastating. Just as the lipsticks, of two ladies, blending, produces an amazingly erotic experience. Here, pucker please. I’ll wear Magic Magenta and your lip coating shall be, Passionate Peach,” Sheree winked as she painted my mouth. 

    “Now come with me beautiful. Over the upcoming days and weeks we’ll do things to your hair, nails, wardrobe and personality that you are going to adore, my sweet,” Sheree promised as she led me by the hand into what had only recently become her, very private boudoir suite.

    There we shared a glass of chilled Cherry Brandy and a perfectly rolled Joint of Michoacán Weed. The entire experience soon became a nearly, “Out-of-the-Body” adventure for me. Even when prompted to by Sheree, I “fixed” my lipstick under her expert tutelage, prior to being taken into my Mistress’s commanding arms. 

    Sheree wore a gorgeous, beige negligee. My Harem Pajamas were a bright, lemon yellow. As we kissed I held Sheree snugly. Sheree’s hands roamed all over my body as she cooed, “Oh my, but you just smell so lovely this evening my dear Miss Marcella. And your skin feels so soft, pretty and smooth.”

    When our wet, painted lips met once again, I was able to confirm how wonderfully it was when two females, wearing fresh, moist lipstick, kissed and the tastes and scents of their lipsticks bonded in passion. Sheree was so very correct about everything, including our cool, soft, shiny, satiny ladies sleepwear feeling so special against our heavily perfumed and scented bodies. 

    It was truly magical as we at last undressed each other and naked, slipped underneath the warm comforter to frolic upon the satin sheets. Sheree directed my lips, mouth, fingers and tongue to once again pleasure her vagina and clitoris. 

    As I showered Sheree’s Clit with soft kisses, light licks with my tongue and subtle rubs with my fingers, the sighs from her lips were sensuous to my ears. One of Sheree’s hands gripped the back of my neck and the other held very tightly to the ponytail she had tied so expertly with the pretty red bow. 

    She hadn’t actually bound me to her puss, however I wasn’t going anywhere. Nor, did I desire to be anywhere else. Her puss smelled so lovely. Her strong and ample, but very soft thighs surrounded my head. Our naked, perfumed skin came together in erotic passion. As I felt Sheree’s thigh muscles clamp tightly against my ears, she also gripped and pulled my ponytail as if I were her prisoner and slave. 

    I knew now to re-double my efforts. My extra endeavors drove Sheree excitedly over the cliff and I felt her pussy juices dripping on each side of my face. Her strong legs truly clamped down against my face, and I heard the sounds of her screeches reverberating in my ears. 

    She truly had an awesome climax. She was so very enthused she pulled me to her and we kissed very fervently as she told my what a “Lovely and Beautiful” spouse I truly was. Her throaty, husky voice was excitingly musical to me as she said, “Hmm? And how should I reward you, my so very obedient, cooperative, and sensual Miss Marcella?”

    As a young teen, I was frequently teased about my name, Marcel being a “Sissy” appellation. Now, my very own wife was referring to me in the feminine form of Marcel, as Marcella, and it hardly troubled me.

    “Oh, I know what to do. Please Miss Marcella, kneel for me dear, upon all fours. That’s correct Baby. Hands and knees, palms placed upon the mattress. Good girl,” Sheree said.

    She lathered my cock with K-Y Jelly and used two or three fingers from one of her hands to coat the inside of my rectum with the very same lube. Behind me and to my left I heard the opening and closing of a drawer and felt the movement of the bed as Sheree changed positions. Then I heard something humming and buzzing. As Sheree slowly masturbated my cock, I felt the pushing of what was a purring vibrator against my anal opening. 

    As I momentarily gasped I heard Sheree laugh and then say, “Don’t worry my dear pet, you are going to enjoy this. Simply relax and let Mummy Sheree take full control. There now, let’s push this wonderful anus massager a little deeper. You can help Mummy you know, if you just push back to meet the head of the vibrator.”

    The purring, vibratory device went further into my rectum as Sheree also manipulated my cock with her lubed hand. Sheree had often used her fingers in my rectum, to stimulate me. However the vibrator was an entirely new method of stimulation. Then, Sheree went, at the very, very least, one step further as she rotated the vibrator until it contacted my prostate. 

    The titillation was absolutely amazing! I initially let out a cooing screech, and then I released a breathless gasp. When I finally let go and climaxed, my sperm splattered all over the sheets. By then I was practically screaming as if I were a hysterical girl. Sheree was laughing huskily. I collapsed in tears, wriggling uncontrollably upon the bed. 

    “So how did you enjoy that, my dearest, Princess Marcella? Wasn’t it sexy kissing a lady on the mouth when we both were wearing lipstick? And what about our pretty, soft, perfumed bodies intermingling under the cool satin sheets? Hmm? I think my baby will have some interesting things to tell the Therapist during her session this week, won’t she?” Sheree asked.

    That she was referring to me very strictly with feminine pronouns did not bother me the least. By the morning I was quite ready to enter her puss with my early hours “Woody.” However she held me at bay, as she dressed me for our salon and “Modiste” visit. Upon my feet I wore a pair of Red, Open-Toed slings, with block heels.

    My ponytail was side-wrapped and tied with red bow that matched my footwear. Sheree sang and hummed as she “Fixed” my face with just a “touch” of foundation, blush, mascara, shadow and waxy, white gloss on my lips. My Solid, Tie-Front, Ruched-Bust, Flounce-Sleeve, Crop-Blouse was done in a soft beige shade. 

    I wore a pair of straight leg, high waist slacks in a lilac purple. When we entered the salon, I was instantly immersed into all of the various scents, sounds and subtle nuances, that forever permeate that revered “Inner-Sanctum” of Hyper-Femininity. Linda, the proprietor of the Belle Du Jour Salon and Spa, escorted Sheree and me to the area where we’d have our manicures and pedicures done.

    “We’re all so very thrilled you could make it today Marcella. Sheree. Your pretty spouse looks just as fabulous as you said she would look,” Linda remarked.

    “Marcella is doing her very best to immerse herself into connecting with her inner-girl, Linda,” Sheree agreed. 

    “That’s just so very, very Fabu Darling. Yes, Fabu. You know Marcella? We sincerely do hope you’ll become a regular here. We girls just have so much fun, making each other pretty and hot. I so do love being really, really hot for my lover and I know you do also, honey,” Linda remarked.

    My toenails were eventually done in a brilliant, Hot-Pink, and my fingernails in a soft, pearl-white with slight extenders. The shopping trip at “Elaine’s Boutique,” was more extensive than I’d been prepared for. We just weren’t there to purchase some silky, shiny, satiny sleepwear with some bedroom heels. Sheree wanted us to “Look at” some “Things for the Office” that I could wear. 

    It began with some Skirt-Suits, though, I’ll admit, Sheree did purchase matching shorts as well as slacks, that went with the blazers. So I’d at least be wearing Pant-Suits to the office for the time being. 

    “I realize you’ll very likely stay with the slacks for now, darling. And you’ll likely pass on wearing the shorts and skirts,” Sheree acknowledged. 

    The ladies who worked at Elaine’s, as well as several female customers, remarked very kindly on my manicure, my light, but obvious makeup, as well as my hair. I’ll admit, even though I knew that they realized I was Sheree’s feminized spouse, I still felt uplifted by the positive comments.

    I tried on numerous “Tops” including some camisoles. Thankfully the tallest heels I did try on were two and a half inches. I preferred the ballet flats. However I reasoned that once the workday morning came, Sheree would become my “Wardrobe Mistress” and would make my attire selections each and every day. 

    For whatever reason, the wearing of panties, panty hose and stockings troubled me the most, and those would be “Out of sight, out of mind” for everyone with the exception of Sheree and myself. Returning home, it was fun to review all of our purchases and assist  as Sheree showed me where everything we bought should be placed, in, what was now, my “New” Boudoir Suite. 

    Before we’d even thought about what we should do concerning  lunch, Sheree had me in her arms and was fondling my cock thru the new Capri slacks I was wearing. 

    “We’ll have to do this more frequently sweetie. Maybe next time both Monet and Deborah Renee could accompany us? I’ll bet you can’t wait to show off your new attire to Deborah and Monet on Monday?” Sheree added as my erection grew in my tight, ladies’s slacks.

Chapter III: Sissy Sweethearts  

    Wearing Pant Suits to the office had become routine. My therapist, Doctor Julia Colington, my Boss, Monet, as well as my spouse, Sheree, insisted I concentrate on controlling the softness of my voice, the preciseness of my movements, along with my speech pattern, as well as the gracefulness of my carriage. I was now wearing 2 and a half inch heels to work, and my ears were both double pierced.

    Naturally I was now getting along famously with “Deborah Renee” who had at one time worked for me as my male secretary. In fact, you may recall that at the start of Chapter Two, titled, “Miss Givings,” I was seated in the Belle Du Jour salon and spa, and my hair had just been shampooed and conditioned. I was attired in a white knit top, with a self-tied, off-center bowknot at my left shoulder, along with a set of wide-legged culottes with a waist-tie sash in the front. 

    The two and one-half inch, Kitten heels I was wearing, were finally becoming comfortable footwear for me, and I was ready for three-inch heels and higher. After the shampoo and condition,  I was about to have my hair, “Done.” Not far away at another styling vanity was Deborah Renee who was also in the process of a makeover.

    My spouse, Sheree and Monet Montes were “Noshing” with some business associates at a trendy Chappaqua restaurant, and had dropped us off with instructions for Linda to give us the “Works.” Linda carefully fingered my hair prior to beginning my cutting. She had one of her Colorists preparing a bleaching and toning treatment for me. My longish hair was now below my shoulders.

    Linda was in the process of chastising me verbally over my “Split Ends” as she clipped away with her scissors. She’d decided on a “Lob” or “Long Bob” for my new styling. When Linda’s trimming became very close to the length she was looking for, she put down her scissors, combed my still longish tresses onto the top of my head, and picked up her electric clippers.

    She had decided to give my nape a fashionable “Undercut” across the back of my neck just between the lobes of my ears. Once she had finished with my undercutting, she lathered up some perfumed shaving cream and coated my neck, prior to using a straight razor to shave my nape smooth. After completing my nape shave, she unpinned my light-brown tresses, and let my hair down, 

    As she combed my freshly shorn locks she remarked, “See how nicely your hair falls and lays Marcella? Get ready to become a blond, sweetie. Holly? Please let me have the bleaching creme, the foil and the brush. We’ll do this together.”

    Both Holly and Linda carefully attached the foil, then brushed and painted on the creamy bleaching solution. Once they had completed the application of the bleaching creme, Linda paused to consider the Toner mixture.

    “Holly, let’s see how this looks in say 20 minutes, prior to making a decision on what sort of toning mix to use. For the time being, get me a bottle of Pearl-Blonde, and another of Frosted-Lilac,” Linda said.

    About the time Holly returned, Linda was checking the results of the bleaching creme. “Oh my, but you are a real blonde now honey. This is perfect. Holly make it a 50/50 mix of the 9A Blonde and the 10B  Lilac. Just look at this.”

    As Holly mixed the toners together, Linda completed the removal of all of the foil wrap, to reveal that I now had a head of Brilliant, bright,  Yellow Hair. I wanted to faint. Later on, I’d realize that my reaction to the results of the bleaching process was a very, stereotypical, Feminine response of panic. 

    “Not to worry sweetheart. Mommy will fix all this and make Marcella’s tresses all pretty and sexy. This is only the first transition. Let’s give you a nice creme rinse and then we’ll apply the toner,” Linda explained.

    As Linda and Holly took turns brushing on the Pearl-Blonde/Lilac-Frost mix, I could almost observe the Yellow tone leaving my hair and what appeared to be a nearly brilliant white or silver color appearing. I wasn’t certain I’d even enjoy such a girlish hair coloring. However, I did realize that the objective Monet, Sheree and Doctor Julia were seeking was a lessening of my male traits. 

    Approximately 15 minutes went by, and after another rinse, Linda seated me at her styling vanity, removed the turban-wrapped towel from my head and revealed what she called an “Icy-White-Platinum” hair color. I was now a true, and very sexy, Silvery-White, Platinum blonde. At  the moment my emotions were mixed. On the one hand it did look really “Hot.” However, I also knew it was an attention-grabbing color and styling. And I’d be getting my share of looks and possibly remarks, wherever I went, including the Habib/Cartier’s office. 

    Linda use a styling gel and a warm blow-dryer to begin fashioning my new “Do.” With the very proficient use of a comb, brush and her fingers, she made my new “Lob” frame my face perfectly. The edges of my tresses just barely “Kissed” my shoulders and along the sides of my face.

    “Now check this out, Doll-Face. Isn’t that simply exquisite?” Linda asked as she swept my hair into a Updo. As she pinned the hair in place, and put a mirror behind my head, I could see how the deep undercut and my shaven nape, lended a extremely exotic “Look” to my upswept hair. 

    Then Linda let my hair fall back down and she randomly fluffed it with her damp fingers prior to giving me a heavy application of spray net lacquer. Holly pulled the makeup cart, overflowing with brand name cosmetics, into place, and both she and Linda began my cosmetic application.

    I’d leave the Belle Du Jour salon wearing more cosmetics than had ever been painted onto my face up until that particular point in time.  At this stage of my emasculation, I’d been frequently concerned about how I actually presented and appeared in public. As I’d only just begun HRT, a few months prior, I felt as if many people must have seen my as an Androgynous, feminized male?

    I’d also just started on Lip-Plumping injections, to assist with the HRT in changing my facial features. I had not realized how far along a new haircut, color and extreme makeup application, would take me along in the direction of “Passing” as a female publicly. 

    “I know you do your own makeup, and even fix your lips and face on the go, Sweetheart. I want you to realize that with your new Silvery,  Icy-White, Platinum tresses, you’ll need to change the tones, colors and shades of the cosmetics you’ll be using. Though there are a couple of ways you may go, for a new girl like you, I mean a girl who is just Coming Out, you really need to go Very Bold. Especially with your lipsticks,” Linda insisted.

    “You’ll want to do something really Fabu and Hot. Especially with your really audacious hair coloring and styling. You are hot girl and you need to get used to that. For instance, a shade of this lipstick,  Magical Magenta, by Rula Habib. I use all Rula Habib Cosmetics at this salon. Even her perfumes,” Linda explained.”

    “In fact, speaking of Fabu, that’s the name of the new salon I’ll be opening very near to your workplace. So you girls, and I do mean you and Deborah Renee, need to drop in for an occasional touch-up,” Linda added.

    “I’ll be speaking to Monet and Sheree about all that when they pick you two sweeties up. Okay now, Marcella. Sit there primly and properly while I work my makeup magic. Your brows are super thin and sexy, the way they are arched. And your lips really did plump up nicely after that 2nd fattening treatment I gave you last week. By the way, what doctor is giving you your Estradiol?” Linda asked.

    “Doctor Colington, my therapist. I receive an injection from her every two weeks. During the week I take my Pretty Pills daily,” I whispered.

    “Let’s begin on your foundation,” Linda suggested. 

    Indeed, what Linda did, using my face as if it were an artist’s palette, was quite magical. I sat, daintily, demurely, and obediently, as well as mesmerized, as my “New Look” took shape. Linda used a masque of Beige foundation to begin with, prior to brightening my eyes and cheeks with a Hot-Pink blush as well as plenty of Coral-Pink shadow.

     She darkened my lashes and brows with Sienna mascara, prior to giving me a set of Bronze, “Angel Wings” to enhance my eyes and give them that “Popped,” and “Come Hither” look. It was the way that Linda painted my newly-plumped, pouty lips that really enhanced everything else she’d accomplished that day. 

    She outlined my mouth with a “Rula Habib” lip liner called “Throwback Violet.” Then she filled it in with a truly bright and brilliant “Trophy Wife Magenta.” My fattened Bright Red Lips looked so very, very, hot and sensuous, that even I nearly became aroused looking at myself in the mirror. Lastly, she had me close my eyes as she coated everything she had painted my face with, with a misty spray of Make-Up Setting Lacquer. 

    “Here honey. This is a gift bag of everything I used on your pretty  face and hair, including the Gel and the setting spray lacquers. Deborah Renee is waiting for you in the lobby and Monet and Sheree are En-route and should be here very shortly. Give me a kiss you pretty girl and I’ll see you next time. Yum. What a pretty thing you are, Marcella,” Linda said as I minced off into the lobby.

    I had my newest purse in the crook of my right arm and I held the cosmetic gift bag from the handle in my left hand. I wanted to switch my purse to my shoulder when I arrived in the lobby. There, in the waiting area, I saw a very pretty and smiling Deborah Renee. She almost immediately took me into her arms and pulled me very close to her.

    Deborah looked very nice, with her dark brunette hair, tinted with auburn highlights and done in a very stylish, wavy, Pixie-Bob. Her makeup was truly luscious, with bold and vibrant tones of burgundy and maroon. 

    “I knew you’d eventually look absolutely fabulous if you’d simply set back, relax and let the salon ladies really take over. You are just simply gorgeous Marcella. Oh my goodness honey, give me a kiss,” Deborah insisted as she bussed both my cheeks softly with her lips, and then gave me a pouty, firm kiss upon my wet, very vivid, Magenta-tinted mouth. 

    Although, the kisses, especially the one planted firmly and directly upon my lips, took me totally by surprise. Coming from Deborah, those kisses seemed virtually innocent. Though I knew those kisses, were very needy on her part. At the very instant Deborah kissed my lips, Sheree and Monet entered the salon. Deborah still had her beautifully, French Manicured fingers upon my cheeks. 

    “Well now. This is very nice to see Monet. Our girls look to be getting along quite well,” Sheree noted. 

    “Yes. Let me pay for their Makeovers, and we can make our way to my Condo, Sheree,” Monet agreed. 

    “We want you girls to hold hands as we stroll to my Lexus. Marcella? Place your purse over your shoulder dear. Deborah? Take Marcella’s hand in your’s sweetheart. Ready girls? Goodbye ladies. Girl’s? Thank the nice salon ladies for making you both look so very, very pretty. Aren’t these two simply just too, too, too sweet?” Sheree asked as we minced from the salon, to Sheree’s Lexus, Luxury SUV. 

    Once we were on the way to Monet’s Executive condo, I placed my purse in my lap. Deborah wasted no time at all, snuggling against me flirtatiously, with one arm around my waist and a hand resting upon my thigh. Along with her head nestled against my newly, growing bosom. 

    When we reached the condo, Monet asked us both, “Did you girls have lunch? Sheree and I noshed at O’mara’s.”

    “Yes. We were both treated to a light repast at Belle Du Jour. I don’t know about Marcella but I’m very carefully watching my waistline?” Deborah Renee chimed in.

    “Good for you, Debbie. And Marcella knows very well to keep an eye upon her weight,” Sherri agreed.

    We were all seated in the living room when Monet announced, “Now girls. Sheree and I discussed this earlier, and we want the two of you to put on a little show for us, right here and now. So why don’t  you both stand up in the middle of the room and begin by kissing and telling each other how very pretty you think your favorite girlfriend looks?” 

    “Now don’t you dare hesitate Marcella. Debbie appears to be quite a bit more enthusiastic than you are?” Sheree insisted. 

    She was correct. Deborah had practically jumped up, and sashayed rapidly to the center of the large parlor. 

    “Oh please Marcella? This sounds like so much fun. You do think I’m pretty, don’t you?” Debbie asked, very girlishly. 

    “Marcella. Do it now. I mean it girl. Mommy is very serious. You know something honey? Monet rides horses just like Mommy does. And she has a riding crop in the hall closet, just like Mommy Sheree owns. So, unless you care to feel the sting of that crop upon your plump little ass, you need to put your arms around Deborah right this instant and give her a nice, big, sloppy French kiss,” Sheree threatened. 

    Very trepidatiously I stood and minced to a spot, directly in front of Debbie. As I extended my arms towards her, Debbie moved quickly to embrace me and said, “You look so very lovely Marcella. I really want to French Kiss you very much Marcella. Tell me. Do I look pretty too? Please Marcella?” 

    “Yes Deborah. You really do look very lovely. And I want to French Kiss you also,” I agreed.

    I wrapped my arms around Deborah Renee and placed my lips upon her lips, as I began to kiss her. As our freshened lipsticks mixed in passion, our tongues intertwined in lust. My body shivered with waves of sensuousness. I did not realize it right then, but at that moment my sexuality began to change in that instant of time. 

    Being attired, coiffed and made up as a girl, and experiencing a sensual moment with someone who believed themself to be a girl, had become acceptable to me as a sexual experience. Deborah’s hands roamed over my body. One of her hands finally settled upon squeezing my cock, through my girlish slacks and panty brief. I could feel myself becoming erect.

    “Deborah? Why not lower Marcella Juliet’s slacks and panty, and put her cock in your mouth, darling? Very nice sweetie. Good girl. Untie the sash. There you are,” Sheree commented as my slacks billowed to my ankles and my panty was lowered to my knees.

    In my mind, things were going all too, very far. From some harmless, playful, girly kissing, to oral sex. But I feared saying a thing as I knew Sheree was every bit serious about striping my ass with a riding crop. My penis grew to its maximum, Post-HRT size inside of  Deborah’s mouth. As Deborah sucked away and I whimpered very girlishly, the devious Monet took photos with her cell-phone.

    I finally grabbed Deborah’s shoulders as I climaxed into her mouth. I expected her to move her head as my semen streamed into her throat, but instead she sucked hungrily to swallow every last drop of my juices. Sheree clapped her hands and Monet snickered as tears of shame dribbled from my eyes. But the “Sex-Games” had not yet ended. 

    Deborah stood up and hugged me, pressing her painted face against mine. I held her close as my passion subsided into embarrassment. However, neither Sheree or Monet where thru debasing either of us. Monet instructed Deborah to remove her skirt and panties. Sheree insisted I make myself fully naked from the waist down. As  Deborah and I sat, each next to our Mistress, a large Joint of Mexican weed was passed around the room. 

    We were told to smoke plenty of the weed and also drink down at least a full glass of Peach Brandy. Neither of us were sloppy drunk, nor fully stoned on the weed, when we were led into a spare boudoir and told to lay down on the bed, snuggle and begin to French-Kiss passionately. 

    “Marcella Juliet? We want you to suck my Deborah’s cock darling. While you are occupied giving a blow job, we will lube your anus to prepare your rectum to be properly fucked. Every Sissy needs to learn to not only suck cocks, but they need to crave having a penis in their rear-end darling,” Monet told me gleefully.

    As I looked around the room pensive and reluctant, Sheree said, “I’ll need to get your riding crop, Monet. I knew it. You little bitch. When I return to this boudoir, if you don’t have Debbie’s cock in between your painted lips, I’ll redden your ass raw,” Sheree threatened. 

    “I think she means it girl,” Monet added.

    “Marcella darling. Please suck me? It’s okay honey. I really don’t think my cock can even get big or hard enough to cause you any discomfort?” Debbie said. 

    “You’d better begin blowing her girl. Because I am now back with the riding crop. Here, how about this for impetus?” Sheree asked as she struck me twice. One strike landed stingingly upon my ass and the other burned my thigh. I shrieked. That was all it took, as I hurried to place my lips around Deborah’s penis.

    I sucked away and Deborah’s cock grew in my mouth. I felt Sheree’s fingers lubricating my anus. Then I heard her chuckle and say, “She’s never had a Dick in her ass, but I’ve pegged her on a number of occasions with my Strap-on. So she’s been plowed. I’m thinking I need to train her with a butt-plug though.”

    When both Sheree and Monet ascertained Deborah was erect enough to “Peg” me, I knelt, on all fours, “Doggie” style, and Deborah carefully mounted me and I felt the penis of this Asian beauty enter me. As she slowly pushed herself in, I thought of all the remarks other males in the office had once made when Sheree had forced me to hire a male secretary. I wondered what those same men would now say,  could they see this hot, Asian Sissy, buggering me right then and there? 

    They had often referred to “Devi” as a Fairy. Now, it appeared that I was the “Fairy’s” new girlfriend? Deborah’s stiff dick slid in and out of my ass in a slow rhythm. Shamefully enough, I was very aroused by the sensation of being properly fucked. 

    I knew both Monet and Sheree were taking Cell-Phone photos as Deborah Renee buggered me. I closed my eyes tightly, thinking somehow if I did, the debasement of having Homosexual sex would go away. 

    I could feel my penis leaking. The taste of Deborah’s salty pre-cum reminded me that I was now, somehow, the “Girl” and the “Femme,” in a Gay, sexual relationship. When my penis began to squirt, I started  to whimper and it seemed as if the tears would never stop flowing as my body shuddered. 

    Then Deborah began to pump sperm into my rectum. From the sounds she was making I concurred that she was absolutely enjoying the moment. If Sheree and Monet would have been using, old style cameras, flash bulbs would have been popping off. Shamefully, as Deborah slid her shrinking cock out of my ass I collapsed on the bed sobbing. 

    I felt completely beaten, shamed, debased and used. Deborah did her very best to console me by turning me onto my side and lovingly kissing my face, eyes and lips. She licked away my tears, whispering the words, “Oh my sweet, darling baby.” Somehow, strangely, that all felt so very comforting that I embraced Deborah lovingly. 

    I could hear the sound of the boudoir door closing. I realized Sheree and Monet had left Deborah and I to girlishly console one another. I was so oblivious to what was really happening, that I had no early clue, that Sheree and Monet were so sexually aroused, that they were now locked behind Mount’s boudoir door enjoying the “Sisterly Union” of Lesbian sex. 

    We didn’t spend that evening at Monet’s executive condo. Instead we made the drive to return to our suburban home later that evening. After breakfast on Sunday morning, Sheree escorted me back into my “New” girlish boudoir to evacuate my bowels with a colonic, and then she inserted a butt plug into my anus.

    “You’ll be wearing that in your ass, unless I tell you that you don’t have to wear it. Is that clear, little girl? We’ll also be picking out a four-day slot in every month, where you’ll be having your menstrual-cycle. You’ll wear a pad in your panties as well as a tampon in your rectum. You’ll change the pads and the tampons  when I say to change them. You will douche after every four day cycle is over,” Sheree announced.

    “I insist that you drink a minimum of 64 ounces of water each day, during your Period, to stimulate bloating discomfort,” Sheree added.

    “Now come with me to my boudoir. I’ll be instructing you in doing my hair, nails, and makeup so you’ll be much better prepared to do your own. If you have any problem with any of this, please do speak up. Because I’d love to teach you just who the boss is in our Female Led Relationship. Come along, girl. Follow very close behind me, Sissy, Marcella Juliette,” Sheree ordered. 

Chapter IV: House Pet  

    My duties at the Habib/Cartier offices became yet more toadying and degrading. I continued to make trips to the cleaners to drop off and pick up Monet’s dry cleaning. I also continued to purchase her Cosmetics and Perfumes at the Lancôme Beauty Counter at Macy’s. And now, when I ran an errand to Walgreen’s, I purchased feminine hygiene products not only for Monet, but also for both Debbie and myself. 

    One of the female cashiers once asked me, “Planning a big weekend with the boyfriend, honey? Does he like you to be freshly scented when he rails you?” 

    Added to my “Inner Office” duties was giving both Monet and Janelle, the woman who had replaced me as Assistant Director of Finance, manicures and pedicures. And if Monet decided that Deborah had been a “Really, Extra Good Girl,” she would have me do Deborah’s nails, also. 

     It was such a very shameful spectacle for me to be in Monet’s office, on my knees, painting her toenails, while Monet and a Female, Junior Exec, sat and discussed business. If refreshments were too be served, I’d see to it that everyone had their coffee, tea or juice drinks, prepared and presented, exactly as they required. When presenting, a proper curtsey was to be given to each and every lady.

    There was another instance, in Janelle’s office, when I was performing a Pedicure for Ms. Janelle. I was kneeling upon a Red Velvet pillow that had been given to me by Monet. Monet had named it my “Pedicure Pillow.” First I had given Janelle a perfumed foot-bath. Then I’d used a soft stone to smooth any remaining spots. After cleaning her cuticles I’d begun to paint her nails a lovely, Violet shade. 

    Janelle was speaking on her cell phone to a woman named Angela at another Rula Habib office. It suddenly occurred to me that I was in the process of painting the toes of the very woman who had replaced me as Assistant Director of Finance. I was kneeling at her feet in the very same office that had once belonged to me. 

    In the past I’d been seated at the very same desk, with my feet up, bragging to another male at a finance office in Canada about a deal I had just made. However those days were far, far away in a distant past that rarely if ever came to my empty mind. 

    Then I began to get chills throughout my body, and my beautifully manicured fingers almost started to shake. I had to calm myself because I didn’t want to ruin “Ms. Janelle’s” Pedicure. Because if I did she would put me over her knee and spank me. As I thought of how I looked, that same morning when I saw myself in my Boudoir Vanity mirror prior to work, I wanted to cry.

    But then again, I did not want to begin shaking. It would be too, too humiliating to cry in front of Ms. Janelle. I knew how I’d styled my tresses.. My Silvery, Platinum hair was done in a Bouffant Flip with the ends turned up. I’d slept in curlers the night prior as to Ms. Janelle’s instructions. She had insisted my hair had to be be in a “Teased Flip” when I did her nails the following afternoon. 

    If all of that wasn’t enough, Angela, the lady Ms. Janelle was speaking to, must have asked Ms. Janelle, what she was doing? Janelle had answered, “Right now I am getting a Pedicure from one of our Office Sissies. Yes. We have two Office Sissies. In fact this particular Sissy was once the occupant of this office.” 

    That was all too much for me to take. I couldn’t help myself as I thought of how much of my masculinity had been stripped away. From being an up and coming Junior Exec, I was now giving a Pedicure to the very woman who had replaced me. From wearing Brooks Brothers suits, I’d become a purse carrying, high-heel-wearing, mincing, Nancy-Boy. I hung my head and began sobbing and shaking.

    Janelle had already ended her phone conversation, and said, “Have a good cry, you limp-wristed, lipstick-wearing fairy. You deserve it, you know. Think of what you have foolishly thrown away, by trying to disrupt the plans of a Dynamic Woman such as Monet Montes. And when you are done sobbing? You had better finish doing my nails, you Pansy, or your ass will be red and raw.” 

    No longer was I permitted to wear slacks, or even shorts, with a blazer. That was considered to be “not quite feminine enough” for me. Nor was I granted permission to wear anything even close to a “Kitten” heel. I was to attire myself each and every day in a dress, or skirt and blouse, and I was expected to “Reveal” my legs in stockings and proper hosiery. 

    The minimum height of any high-heel I was to wear could not be less than four inches. I minced and sashayed about the office tottering upon my tall “Spikes” with my skirts clinging tightly to my ass, and my growing “Girls” poking through my tops and blouses. 

    With my Icy-White, Silvery, Platinum Blonde Lob, framing my face, full facial makeup, brilliant Crimson Lipstick, and elongated Magenta fingernails, I was the ultimate “Hot,” Girly-Girl. Both Deborah and I had full, female picture identification in our purses including driver’s licenses. 

    Deborah’s sexual attraction towards me as a fellow “Sissy” had become quite strong and was encouraged by both Sheree and Monet. My sex life with Sheree, due to the large dosages of Estradiol I was taking was practically non-existent, and limited to me pleasuring her orally. 

    With Deborah, there would be times at the office when we were alone, as Monet was out to lunch with one of her Junior Execs. Deborah would stroll by my desk, stop, take hold of me and lift me to my feet.

    “You still don’t realize how difficult it is for me to even look at you and not want to hold you in my arms. Do you, Marcella? You just look so amazingly sexy and wanton. It’s nearly impossible for me to not picture us in bed together, kissing, sucking and licking each other,” Deborah would whisper sexily.

    “Deborah. I am married to Sheree. You are in a relationship with Monet. We really cannot begin to be with each other unless they tell us to put on a show for them,” I protested.

    “Oh I forgot. Your marriage? How’s that working out for you honey? You’re not married. Sheree owns you. In just the very same way that I am Monet’s property. Don’t try and tell me your cock still works and that you can even fuck her a little bit? You’re loaded up on the very same massive dosages of Estradiol that I take. If that wasn’t true, you wouldn’t have those cute tits that are poking thru your blouse right now, and tempting me,” Deborah replied. 

    “I just really need you Marcella. And I don’t know what to do? It’s driving me crazy, girlfriend,” Deborah nearly sobbed.

    “And I don’t know what to do either, Deborah. We both simply need to stop thinking about it and just obey our Mistresses, like the good, little sissies we’ve been trained to be,” I said as I sashayed to the ladies room to fix my lipstick, powder my nose, and touch up the rest of my pretty face. 

    It was very true however. It had become the very rare occasion when my cock actually worked the way it was supposed to. Or, was it really supposed to work any longer? Wasn’t I far more a female at that stage of my transformation than I was a male? In fact, besides my shrinking genitalia, inwardly, mentally and emotionally, I really did think of myself as “All Girly-Girl.” 

    Truthfully, I was a very submissive obedient “Girly-Girl” as far as my relationship with Sheree went. Our “marriage” was now very much like the “Union” between two Lesbians. One of us, that being Sheree, was the very “Domme-Butch” who made all of the decisions, earned nearly all of the money, and was the leader and disciplinarian in the marriage. 

    I was definitely the very subservient “Femme” who did as I was told. I very judiciously kept all of my salon appointments, with Linda. And I so very desperately hoped that Sheree would note how pretty I was after a makeover, and compliment me or even give me a kiss and tell me what a pretty girl I was. 

    One evening, after one of Deborah’s desperate attempts to make a play for me, I raced home from work, and began preparing dinner. I doused myself with perfume and re-did my makeup. I put my hair up into a fancy updo and dressed in a red negligee and heels. I met Sheree at the door with a glass of Cherry Brandy.

    She raised her eyebrows and smiled. I wanted so very much for her to take me to bed. After everything was said and done, including a lovely meal and some wonderful “Petting” and foreplay, we wound up making love, 

    That is, I licked, sucked, kissed and fondled her clitoris  until she climaxed. I was aching for her to play with my tiny penis. Instead, Sheree reached into the bedside lamp table nearest her and pulled out a strap-on dildo and lube. 

    “I desperately need something Really Hard, inside of me, Marcella. And that little boy clit, between your legs, just isn’t going to do anything for me sweetie. I really need for you to strap on this big, fat, sausage, Faux cock and give me a ride with it. You’ve had that dildo way, far, up your ass. You know it can do the job,” Sheree insisted.

    I’d never had the faux penis attached to me, and Sheree had to show me how it fastened on. Her pussy was still dripping from me sucking her off and she was ready for me to begin screwing her. I entered her slowly, which seemed to annoy her and she pushed herself eagerly towards me and grabbed my hips.

    Then as she thrust into me, she pulled on my ass and really became aggressive. It was nearly maddening the way she held onto my waist as she pumped her hips wildly, exerting me, “Fuck me damn it! Oh for goodness sakes, Marcella. Get on your back. Allow me to fuck myself on the rubber cock.” 

    She was genuinely frustrated with me and she showed it. I was terribly humiliated. I laid there as she used me as if I were some sort of “Fuck-Doll,” as she bounced up and down crazily upon the rubber cock. Finally in full dissatisfaction, she turned over on her back and sighed.

    “Marcella. Come here and snuggle with me Precious. We need to talk some things over Princess. There really needs to be some changes here, around the house. I really need you home full time, to do the cleaning, cooking, housekeeping, shopping, and entertaining sweetheart. I’ll be talking to Monet this weekend about her granting you an extended leave of absence,” Sheree pronounced. 

    “But what about my salary? I won’t be contributing to the support and upkeep of our household,” I whimpered, obliviously. 

    “Oh honey. That time has past. While you’ve been stagnating in the workplace, Mommy Sheree has been vaulting up the corporate ladder. My compensation, between my salary, stock options, bonuses, perks and benefits has trebled over the past year or so. We really don’t need your financial contribution any longer,” Sheree stated. 

    “So Monday, there is no need for you to even go into the office. You can stay right here and become my pretty, little homemaker, hairdresser and housekeeper, among other things. I want you to keep yourself very pretty for me, as well looking nice for all of my friends, guests and visitors,” Sheree added.

    “And one other thing, darling. You and I both need a brand-new, real man about the house. And I believe I’ve found that very person for the both of us. He’s perfect for us honey, and I want you to meet him soon. He’s the ultimate Bull to take care of two horny girls, and I know you’re going to adore him. What do you think of that?” Sheree asked.

    “Well, I mean, I don’t know exactly? But if you believe so, then I have to guess that it’s best for everyone concerned?” I stammered with uncertainty. 

   “That’s Mommy’s good girl. I knew you’d realize that Mommy knew what was best for Mommy Sheree and her girly-girl,” Sheree winked.

  When the following Friday evening came around, I became a super, busy girl.  Throughout the day, I was cleaning and cooking. My hair had been up in rollers all day long. Just prior to Sheree arriving home early from the office, I’d taken a shower with a protective shower cap on. As soon as Sheree pulled into the driveway, I ran her a hot bubble bath and laid out the clothing she wanted us to be wearing when “Our Bull” Edward arrived. 

   After her bath and while we dressed and did our hair, nails and makeup. Sheree filled me in further on Edward. She was uncharacteristically very excited.

     “Wait until you see him, Marcella. He’s such an absolutely gorgeous young Hunk. And goodness me, is he ever virile and manly. He can go all night long baby, and he has such a gorgeously masculine Tool between his legs. And the best thing about his tool, is that he really knows how to use it,” Sheree pronounced. 

    “Is he really that young? I asked, almost absurdly. 

    “Well. I mean we won’t be robbing the cradle or anything like that. But he is younger than we are. Look. I met him at a business meeting at the hospital. He’s with an insurance brokerage that we frequently use. We hit it off and he asked me out to lunch. What else can I say? We wound up back at his hotel room and he took me to bed with him,” Sheree shrugged, inconsequentially. 

    “He literally Fucked my Pussy silly for the next couple of hours until I nearly passed out. Luckily it was a Friday and I frequently leave early due to all the extra hours I put in during the week. He doesn’t really live all that far away and I invited him to spend the Holiday weekend with us,” Sheree sighed.

    “To be truthful, I fucked him several more times when he was in town over the last few months, just to make certain he’s the right Bull for us,” Sheree admitted. 

    By the time that Sheree had informed me that she’d already screwed Edward, on multiple occasions, I was fully dressed, doing my makeup, with my hair still pinned up in curlers. I was wearing a white, below the knee pencil skirt, with a Hot-Pink, off-the shoulder, fussily ruffled, lantern-sleeved, crop blouse. 

    I was tottering in five-inch, matching, hot-pink spike-heels, as I leaned over Sheree’s back, as she sat at her vanity. I was touching up my mascara as I spoke to her. My elongated fingernails were a vivid Vermillion and my lips shimmered with a Ruby Gloss. When I finally unpinned my tightly curled roller-set tresses, I finger styled my hair and sprayed it liberally.

    My Silvery locks bounced prettily with “Little-Girlish” springy, Shirley Temple curls. My bejeweled ears were flattered with one set of large, “Slave” hoops, and another set of heavy, Coral pendants. I wondered if I’d actually overdone things in order to impress “Our” new boyfriend?

    “Sheree? I’m slightly concerned, honey. Do you think that I’m done up, all too overtly feminine to meet Edward?” I asked, foolishly.

    “Oh my heavens no, Marcella. Of course not. The entire idea is for you to appear to be fastidiously and gloriously ultra-feminine, darling. You see, I have informed Edward that we are married, in name only, essentially. I’ve expressed a desire on the part of both of us, to have him in our home as the undisputed Man-of-the-House,” Sheree explained.

    “He surely wants to assume that role, however he might just have reservations concerning you being some sort of threat, or competition for my sexual affections. And, as we both know very well, Marcella, nothing could be further from the truth. And what better way could there be, to relieve Edward of his misgivings, then for you to greet him  with the outward appearance and overt manner of the consummate, ultra-feminine, Girly-Girl?” Sheree asked. 

    “Of course he knows from our conversations of your colossal failures in the marriage bed, and your total and complete inability to ever satisfy me sexually. Still though, he has his share of questions concerning any possible emotional attachment I may still have towards you,” Sheree smiled and shrugged. 

    “So to answer your question Marcella? You look absolutely perfect this evening. And this, young lady, is the persona and apparel that I fully expect you to assume from today onward. Now, let’s spritz with our fave perfumes, check on the dinner preparations, plus the liquor cabinet, and eagerly await Edward’s arrival,” Sheree instructed. 

    I had been so very relieved when Sheree told me that she no longer needed me as a wage earner and that I could become her pretty housewife and not concern myself with going to the office, any longer. How wonderful that was going to be!

    I'd no longer need to be shamed and degraded by Monet and Janelle, I'd no longer be subjected to doing their nails, purchasing their Feminine Hygiene products or having the dates of my "Menstrual Cycles" advertised on the Office Calendars.

    As for her new Boyfriend Edward? It sounded as if she’d been Fucking Edward for at least a few months. Hmm? However it appeared he did satisfy her, though. I’ll admit I was mildly embarrassed by this news, Though, happily, I'd no longer be subjected to the humiliation and indignity of being totally unable to achieve an erection. The way things sounded, all I had to do as Sheree's housewife was to look pretty, cook and clean, mind my business and do as Sheree said. That would certainly amount to a completely decision free life.

     Edward rang the doorbell less that 30 minutes later. I minced quickly to the doorway, opened it and greeted him effusively. He was every bit as young and handsome as Sheree had described.

    “Hello. You must be Edward? Please do come in. It is such a huge pleasure to meet you sir. Allow me to show you to the parlor? My name is Marcella. Ms. Sheree can’t wait to see you,” I said with a pert curtsey. 

    “Edward, oh this is just so very, very wonderful! I’ve been awaiting your arrival with bated breath, darling. So you’ve already met Marcella of course. Please sit down and don’t hesitate to give Marcella your drink order, dear,” Sheree said, uncharacteristically excitedly. 

    “Yes. We met at the door. You weren’t kidding though, were you? Forgive me. However I was certain you just may have exaggerated even a little bit as to her appearance. But you did not. Not in the very slightest. She’s as amazingly feminine as you described her. I am totally stunned. I cannot believe that Marcella was possibly ever a male,” Edward stated, throwing up his hands. 

    “It’s so very true Edward. Her transformation is absolutely astonishing. Though, you still need to understand that even though Marcella was born a male, she’s never really measured up to being a real male in the true sense of the word. So, the Marcella you see before you Edward, is the true, real and actual Marcella,” Sheree assured our new, Bull.

    ‘Oh, I get it. For real. How about a Scotch straight up and what is on the dinner menu?” Edward asked. 

    Prior to Dinner, as I served the Filet Mignon and the peeled, broiled, shellfish, Sheree explained that I would remain completely silent throughout the meal, unless I was spoken to. “Marcella is only present to serve us should we need anything, Edward,” Sheree stated.  

    I cleared everything away, once I had served coffee and Brandy after the meal. I once again sat silently, in the parlor, smiling, as both Sheree and Edward engaged in obvious sexual banter. I knew what I was present for. I was Eye-Candy. 

    It wasn’t long until Sheree and Edward were embracing and locked in a passionate, French-Kiss. I could hear Sheree whispering and laughing with Edward from across the room. 

    “Marcella. Come with us to my Boudoir sweetie and help me undress Edward. Then stand in the corner nearest the doorway, but face the bed honey,” Sheree instructed me. 

    It was quite a bit of fun as I obediently removed Edward’s clothing. Sheree was so very correct. He did have a lovely, long and large “Dong” between his legs. Sheree kept her top on, but was naked from the waist down. We had stripped Edward to the buff and he seemed to be enjoying it. 

    He got on top of the bed with Sheree and she grabbed his cock with both hands. He whispered something into her ear. She shrugged and whispered something back at him. The she turned to me.

    “Marcella honey, come over here and suck off Edward. Just like you’ve sucked Deborah in the past. The only difference is that Mr. Edward has a real cock, baby,” Marcella cooed.

    I knelt upon the bed. I seductively brushed my platinum blonde bangs out of my eyes. I covered the head of his cock with my lips and licked the tip of his penis. Edward was on his back. Sheree was laying on her side kissing his face and his neck. I began to take more of his Prick into my mouth as I fondled his ballooned nut-sack. 

    “Marcella. Don’t get greedy like a little Piggy. Don’t you dare suck him dry. All you are doing is fluffing him. You are getting him ready to fuck me. So, just keep him as hard as a rock, and make him nice and slippery-wet so his Big-Dick will slide right in,” Sheree insisted. 

    By that time Sheree had one set of her fingers going in and out of her pussy and another set was masturbating her clitoris. As she began to pant, Sheree said, almost frantically, “Okay sweetie, let my man’s cock loose. Edward darling? Get on top of me and fuck my Pussy raw, darling.”

    I got off of the bed and stood and watched. I had never seen Sheree in this sort of state. Never, even since the first time we’d made love. She was usually so very bossy and absolutely had to be on top and running the show. She always insisted that I place my fingers in the small space between our groin areas and “Diddle” her clit while we fucked. 

    But with Edward, she just “Let go.” She threw her legs around his waist, tightly. She placed her arms over his shoulders and simply allowed him to “Plow” her like a horny bitch. And the noises she made as he fucked her. Wow! She screeched, she panted like a “Bitch-Dog,” and she screamed like a wild Banshee. 

    “Oh that’s it you Stud! Fuck me harder, yes even harder! Oh my gracious this is so fucking wonderfully amazing!” Sheree crowed insanely as Edward moved up and down rhythmically as if he were doing pushups. Then the most amazing thing occurred. Sheree climaxed wildly, without Edward even as much as tickling her clit. 

    It was as if she was coming completely unglued. She nearly fainted and began to sob and tell Edward was an amazing lover he was. Edward, still hard as a rock, pulled out of Sheree and laid next to her, playing with her hair.

    “Edward. Oh my gracious, my love. You haven’t climaxed, yet? Oh honey, we simply have to do something about that. Edward? And honey, I’ll understand if you say no, darling. Do you think you’d enjoy Fucking Marcella in the ass?” Sheree asked.

    “Oh wow, really? Could I? Yeah, that would be fabulous. I mean she’s so fucking pretty and sexy. I’d love that,” Edward agreed. 

    “Marcella Juliette? Did you hear what Edward just said? He thinks  that you’re very pretty and sexy, and that he wants to fuck you in the ass? Honey, if you have a butt plug in, you need to take it out. And well, you should at least remove your Hobble Skirt and Panties, Princess,” Sheree said. 

    “Yes ma’am, Ms. Sheree. I’ll be right there,” I said as I slithered out of my skirt and panties. Then I minced to the Bath where I pulled my butt-plug from my rectum and fixed my lipstick. When I returned to the boudoir I was still wearing my sexy, off-the-shoulder crop blouse, as well as my stockings, garters and heels. 

    I removed my heels and climbed onto the bed asking, “Is Doggie-Style good for you, Mr. Edward?”

    “Ah yes, Marcella. Such a pretty name you know? Marcella Juliette? Yes. Doggie style is just wonderful,” Edward agreed as I knelt upon all fours. 

    “Edward. Here is some Lubricant, darling. I keep it here for when I peg the little Bitch’s ass with my Strap-on,” Sheree laughed, as she fluffed her pillows so she could watch me get buggered. 

    Edward lubed me and then slid his slippery, well-lubed cock into my anus, a little bit at a time. I pushed back against him. I’ll admit, so far he seemed to be a fabulously understanding lover. As his cock went deeper into my ass, I began to do breathing exercises to make myself less aware of the slight discomfort. 

    Finally though, I felt the last easy push, and I knew that “Mr. Big Cock” was now all of the way in. Edward and I got into a nice, easy rhythm. There was no way I was going to scream out for him to “Fuck me harder” in the manner that Sheree had done earlier. I began to really enjoy it and it felt really amazing. His cock was wet from our sweat, the lube, his pre-cum and the moisture left over from his fuck with Sheree. 

    As his penis contacted my prostate, I started to whimper in pure pleasure. My breaths came in short little sighs and gasps. My body began to quiver so very delightfully. “Oh Edward? Oh this is just so very wonderful,” I squealed.

    “Isn’t it now, you little slut? It sounds as if Sissy is really turned on, by you screwing her Edward?” Sheree mocked. 

    As the Cum started to dribble from my tiny Sissy-Clit, I could sense a swelling in Edward’s already long, fat cock. The excitement built and my Sissy-Clitoris spurted its stream of Sissy-Spunk. Then, shortly afterwards, Edward’s cock exploded and my anus was filled with what must have been globs of his warm, creamy, gooey ejaculate. 

    It was all too much for my lithe, feminine body and I finally  collapsed onto the bed. I felt Edward withdraw his massive cock from my rectum. I was dithering and blubbering like the mewling Sissy I had become. Sheree instructed me to shove a Tampon in my ass, to keep all of Edward’s seed inside of me. I did that gladly.

    Next, she told me to lick all of my Sissy-Goo ejaculate off of the sheets. Finally I licked Edward’s cock clean, prior to curling up, upon the mattress of the King-Bed as if I were a pre-pubescent, girly-girl. It wasn’t until later that evening that I found that Edward, Sheree and I were sleeping, cuddled together with Edward between the two of us. 

    It had been such an amazing sexual experience for me, having a Real Man’s Cock, up inside of me. I truly wanted that to happen again and again, as frequently as it possibly could occur. Having Edward as our “Bull,” to share sexually, turned out to be the most breathtaking decision that Sheree had ever conceptualized. 

Chapter V: Girly for Good

     Sheree and I had both just been shampooed and conditioned at Linda’s, Belle Du Jour salon. My hair was being “Done” by Linda, the proprietor. I wanted a trim, stylization and my “Color Touched Up.” Linda fingered my hair prior to my cut and suggested a slightly different color scheme.

    “Why not try just a little more of the Lilac toner? You’ll still have that Icy Platinum look, with only a touch of a Purplish tone. By the way, I’m thrilled that I get to speak with you since I saw you and Sheree with those two, very Hunky, young guys at the Ram’s Head Cafe last Friday. Who were they, and what gives, girl?” Linda asked.

    “Oh, well yeah. I’ll go with a little more Lilac, as long as it makes me look hot. I have a ‘Date’ for the entire holiday weekend. Oh yes, the two guys we were with? The Sandy-Blonde guy was Edward, and he is now exclusively Sheree’s Bull. We used to share him, until he introduced me to his friend, Alain, who was the guy with the darker hair, that you saw me dancing with,” I paused.

    “Alain is my new Boyfriend. He’s French Canadian and a real stud. I’ll be going to his Stoney Point, Lakefront house for about four days, shortly after I leave here, today,” I explained.

    “Whoa. Back up girlfriend. You and Sheree were sharing a Bull? And now you have separate boyfriends? Are you two no longer married?” Linda asked as she continued with my trim and removed any split ends. 

    “Well no, Linda, we are no longer married. You see, there came a time in our relationship, where I was no longer capable, practically at all, to care properly for Sheree’s sexual needs,” I admitted. 

    “Honestly Marcella. Under the present circumstances that is actually very easy to believe. So Sheree sought out a Bull?” Linda inquired.

    “Yes, exactly. And, as it turned out, we basically shared him. Sheree isn’t super-fond of providing oral. And she abhors anal sex as well. So even today, while I still do live with Sheree, it’s my responsibility to provide primarily anal sex for Edward, as well as an occasional blow-job,” I explained. 

    “Of course if Sheree is menstruating, I become Edward’s “Go-to” girl. Sheree really did take care of me financially in the divorce settlement. She was very, very generous. Right now I serve as her housekeeper, homemaker, kitchen-bitch, in-home hair dresser, and her Lady’s Companion. That could change since Alain entered the picture, though,” I added. 

    “Now, where did you meet him?” Linda asked as she began mixing my hair color.

    “Alain works at the same Health-Care Insurance broker as Edward does. In fact he’s a big-shot exec and the head of Edward’s department. Edward was showing him some shots of Sheree, when Alain asked who I was? Edward carefully explained exactly who I was, including the fact that I was a Sissy in transition. Edward let me know that Alain was exceptionally interested in meeting me. After checking out some photos of Alain and also discovering that he was also filthy rich, I could not refuse an opportunity to meet him,” I went on. 

    “Oh wow. He owns Lakefront at Stony Point?” Linda inquired.

    “Yes, as well as a mansion in Chappaqua,” I added. 

    “Well if you’ll be spending the long weekend with him I’d better make you look very hot for Daddy,” Linda teased. 

    Linda painted the Creamy mixture of hair toners onto my tresses. Once she had cream rinsed me I could barely, visibly note, the mild Lilac tone mixed with my Icy-Platinum locks. Then, Linda asked me,” So how do you want me to finish you, before we do your makeup?”

    “What about, some small to medium hot rollers? I set my hair a few weeks ago, prior to going clubbing with Alain. He really got excited over my ‘Cute’ curls. And I mean really, very excited. He absolutely ‘Railed’ me, the entire evening, into the morning, once we arrived at his place in Chappaqua. And I’ll take all that I can get, of that sort of attention any time of day or night,” I effused.

    “You got it Sister. A hot roller set. I love it. Sounds as if you’d like doing your own makeup?” Linda asked.

    “Yes, as a matter of fact. I know how I like to look and I have a pretty good idea of what Alain enjoys seeing from me. I want this weekend to be very, very special,” I agreed. 

    I left the salon with my locks in sexy, bouncy curls, and my face, eyes and lips were shimmering with a masque of vivid reds, violets, and coppers. I stopped by Vivian’s styling station where she was just finishing up with Sheree and they were chatting.

    “Sheree. I’m on my way to the Lake. Have a Fabu time with Edward, darling. Oh, you look hot, you seductress,” I teased.

    “Oh Marcella. You look just fabulous. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do with that Stud, Alain. Marcella precious, I can’t thank you enough for giving me a long weekend alone with Edward. Come here and let’s have a nice kiss. I won’t muss your hair and you can always fix those plump lips honey. Oh yum. That was sweet baby,” Sheree cooed, once we’d kissed.

    “Yes, Doll. I enjoyed that. I couldn’t be happier that you and Edward are having some private time together. If Alain ever asks me to move in with him, I’ll be out of your hair in a flash,” I said.

    “Oh honey. You do so much for me. I’ll really miss you. Have a lovely weekend girlfriend,” Sheree added. 

    I made the drive to Stoney Point in record time. I parked my new, Toyota Rav 4, next to Alain’s Mercedes Sports Car. I’d purchased the SUV with some of the divorce settlement with Sheree, as well as a nice trade-in on my Camry. Alain walked out of the house smiling and hugged me as I puckered my lips and kissed him. 

    “Allow me to get your luggage Marcella. Oh, you look just gorgeous, my Princess,” Alain said.

    “Thank you. I’ll get my makeup and hair care Travel-case. Where are we going?” I asked.

    “To the new Boudoir-Suite, I recently had designed and remodeled for you, my darling,” Alain added.

    “What? You didn’t? Oh my goodness. It’s simply adorable. All pinks, whites and other pastels. It’s just so very Girly. The vanity and the Four-posted bed are just fabulous. And you did this just for me? Oh, you wonderful, wonderful man,” I said as I jumped and kissed him very forcefully upon his lips.

    “Well yes. I did. I want you to enjoy staying here with me. To be perfectly honest, Sheree gave me the name of the decorator that did the design for the remodel of your boudoir suite where you and Sheree live. And I had a similar remodel done at my place in Chappaqua,” Alain added.

    “Just in the case that you may decide you’d like to move to Chappaqua with me,” Alain shrugged.

    “Excuse me. I love staying here with you at the lake. And, I will only move in with you at Chappaqua if you ask me to,” I stated.

    “Then I am asking. Would you please move into my Chappaqua home and live with me, Marcella?” Alain asked.

    “Of course I will. Oh dear, but this is a really exciting moment for me. Oh my. Let me take good care of you, right now. I want you to realize what sort of girl you’ll have living with you,” I said, as I placed my arms around him and then rubbed my body against his groin area.

    “Let me see this cock. Oh look. It’s already getting hard. What should I do? Why don’t I just drop to my knees and put it into my mouth? After all. This is a very momentous occasion for the both of us? Isn’t it my lover?” I asked, already kneeling with his penis in my hands. 

    Alain rested his hands upon my shoulders as I licked his cock and then his balls. Then I took his penis in between my lips and began to suck softly. As his Dick grew larger I put more and more of it into my wet mouth. His manly flesh tasted so good, and his salty Pre-Cum excited my senses. 

    “You’re so terribly erect my lover man. The choice is all your’s my darling lover. I can continue to suckle your cock, until that time where you will finally lose all control and explode your ejaculate into my mouth and throat. Or, I can kneel on the gorgeous bed you placed in my new boudoir, and you may bugger my asshole into subservience and submission to your masterful will,” I offered him.

    “I’d prefer filling your rectum with my seed, my Sissy Princess,” Alain decided.

    “Wonderful, my master. Is there any way possible that you could bind me to the bed?” I asked. The very thought gave me goosebumps.

    “Oh yes. Sheree informed me of your slavish, masochistic, sexual proclivities. The bed was designed perfectly with you in mind. Bare your ass for me, and kneel upright, facing the headboard, if you will, Marcella my dearest slave girl,” Alain chimed, very sensuously.

    I removed my tall, four-inch open-toed spikes. I stepped out of my form-fitting, hobble skirt and frilled, Sissy-Panties. I knelt upon the bed and get as close to the headboard as I could. I still wore my crimson, fussily-ruffled, off-the-shoulder, crop-blouse. Alain had me place both of my hands on a cutaway section at the center of the headboard. 

    He then placed a chain tightly around the cutaway, prior to connecting the ends of the chain with a keyed lock. Next, he fastened a set of handcuffs snugly to my wrists, prior to using a second lock to bind me to the chain fastened around the headboard. I began to pant and wiggle erotically, even before Alain started to lubricate my anus with Petroleum Jelly. 

    When he did insert his gooey fingers into my rectum I squealed with absolute delight and wriggled happily. However that was hardly anything to compare with my level of excitement when Alain eventually began to push his penis into my tight, Sissy-Pussy Hole. I did everything I possibly could to assist him with the insertion of his cock into my hot, waiting, rectum. 

    As we both moved our lower bodies in a back and forth motion, Alain’s penis went further and further inside of me. At last I could feel the head of his cock contact my prostate and I “Hissed” in lustful enthusiasm. “Oh, please, please fuck me senseless Alain. I’m such an oversexed little, Sissy-bitch. I need a strong, manly Alpha male such as you to completely dominate me,” I begged.

    It was so very true. If you are a Sissy-Bitch like me, there is nothing to compare to a thorough, Butt-Fucking, by a Masculine, Alpha Male, to drown the last, minuscule shreds of boyishness into absolute oblivion. And as Alain “Banged” me as if I were a cheap whore, I could feel my inner spirit entering into a place that was soulfully Ultra-Feminine. 

    Chained to the headboard, being lustfully buggered, I fully realized that I totally needed this dominate male in my life. I desired to belong to him completely. Of course, as I was then bound to the bed as a slave and prisoner, when Alain’s manly organ blasted his hot semen into my rectum, my fulfillment as a feminine being was beyond any perception I’d ever dreamed of.

    Between my lustful gasping, came the sighs, pants and wild screams of a helpless maiden. I sobbed in near hysteria as Alain withdrew his wet penis and held me lovingly within his strong, masculine arms. At that moment I would have agreed to become his wife, concubine, prisoner or slave-girl. It would not have mattered to me at all, as long as I fully belonged to him. 

    It wasn’t until after Alain had unchained me from the headboard, and I cuddled in his manly arms, that I realized that I had also climaxed at some stage of our wild lovemaking. All that mattered to me at that juncture was just how much more of this fabulous lovemaking was in store for me? 

Denouement 

    It was a lazy Monday at Alain’s Chappaqua mansion. My “Duties” as Alain’s Concubine were similar to the responsibilities I had as Sheree’s housekeeper and Lady’s Companion. Of course, I did not have to do Alain’s hair, makeup and nails as I’d done for Sheree. 

    Also, as Sheree had done, Alain had a housekeeping service come in once a month for a “Super-Cleaning” of the premises. He also had companies for the Landscaping and care of the Pool. I primarily did the grocery shopping, prepared meals when we didn’t eat out, and performed perfunctory, basic, house keeping. And as a matter of course, I kept myself fit and beautiful. Most importantly, I took excellent care of Alain’s sexual needs.

    The house having been cleaned the past Saturday by the cleaning service, I’d spent that Saturday with Deborah, Monet’s Asian Admin and Receptionist. We’d shopped, dined, and spent an inordinate amount of time at the Beauty Parlor. With the cleaning people leaving me a thoroughly spotless house two days prior, I’d only had a few utensils to clean after seeing Alain off to the office after breakfast that lazy, Monday morning. 

    My plans for the early portion of the day included having an early afternoon tea with Sheree, during the extended lunch hour she took as a Top-Exec with the Hospital System Chain. Of course that left me a few hours in between the Tea Party and breakfast. “Oh, What to do?” I thought. 

    I decided, as I often did, to luxuriate myself in a steaming bubble bath, saturating my soft skin with perfumed oils and aromatic salts. While bathing, I decided to do my hair, and possibly my nails in preparation for Alain’s future arrival from the office. Sheree’s arrival was secondary to my plans, and of course she’d frequently observed  me with a head full of curlers, wrapped in a hairnet.

    I then thought of an incident with Alain in the recent past. He’d arrived home from the office early, and I was still lounging in a Kimono Robe, High-Heeled Marabou slippers and my Netted tresses were in rollers. I was wearing full makeup however. I was blushing and excused myself to go to my boudoir vanity and comb out my hair.

    Instead, Alain, who had become somewhat Jaded due to my “Kinky” sexual practices then said, “No Marcella. Come over here and kneel in front of me and suck my cock. I’ve frequently wondered  just what it would feel like, to have your head between my legs, blowing me, with your hair in curlers?” 

    “I don’t know? Why don’t we attempt that? I hope it feels nice for you, dear?” I smiled as I knelt at his feet. 

    He was seated in his usual, Living Room Lounger. He later told me it was an unusually nice feeling on his bare thighs, to have the brush rollers, prickle against his legs as I sucked on his penis.

    In any event, when Sheree arrived, I was dressed in a freshly pressed Red, Flowery Kimono, with silvery marabous, earrings, manicured painted nails and full facial makeup. My curlered hair was covered with a pink, mesh net. 

    “Oh my. Don’t you look the role of the pampered, Lady of Leisure?” Sheree remarked.

    “Yes, I wear it well, don’t I darling? So, how is married life for you? By the way, it was so very darling of you to request that I be your Maid of Honor when you married Edward, you know? I felt so very privileged. And the dress was fabulous. Of course, both of those bitches, Monet and Janelle, made catty remarks towards me, as to the fact that we’d once been married. One spoon of honey and one cream, isn’t it?” I asked as I poured her tea. 

    “Yes. Thank you. You are no longer concerned about making negative remarks concerning Monet? Are you, Marcella?” Sheree asked.

    “And why should I be? I’m the kept Mistress of one of the wealthiest men in all of Westchester County. Alain could buy and sell Monet a few times over. And besides. What could Monet possibly do to me? Feminize me?” I asked, laughing. 

    “So. Has Alain discussed putting a ring on your finger?” Sheree asked.

    “Well, he’s alluded to it. I believe he’s feeling me out concerning my emotions towards the idea of marriage. If he asks, my answer would be yes, of course. But I mean, is it any longer any sort of guarantee about anything? I absolutely adore my present life Sheree,” I stated.

    “I putter around the house. I do a little cleaning, along with a modest amount of grocery shopping. I have every single credit card known to womenkind. When I enter a boutique the salesgirls fall all over themselves to wait on me. The salons here in Chappaqua phone me up, if I haven’t been in for the past two weeks,” I shrugged.

    “I push a vacuum around every once in a while. I love seeing Alain enjoying the meals I prepare. And I always make certain I look so fucking hot, and smell so very enticing, that he can’t help himself to possibly keep his manly hands off of me,” I announced.

    “Did you see that virtual Fleet of automobiles parked outside? I have my voice of any of those. But don’t fret darling. If and when we plan a wedding, you are my very first choice for Matron of Honor,” I promised. 

    After tea, I did my hair into an Updo. Then I put on a Fawn colored, polka dot dress, with white dots, a ruffled hem and lantern sleeves. I decided to go with gartered sheer hose and a matching set of Fawn, three-inch pumps. I touched up my makeup and of course freshened  my lipstick just prior to Alain coming thru the front door.

    After a plate each, of a peeled shellfish with veggies stir-fry, along with two glasses of white wine apiece, I sat on Alain’s lap in the living room. I laid my lacquered  tresses against his chest. 

    I unbuttoned his dress shirt, halfway down. I kissed and fingered his chest and said, “I know you have such a long, stressful day at the office. I also realize my days are far easier. They can be so very boring sometimes. Most of all, I look forward to having your dick inside of me. If you want to relax, I’ll fully understand.” 

    “However, I can make your evening both relaxing and stress free. Just follow me to my boudoir and lay down upon my bed. I’ll suck you until you can no longer tolerate it. Then, I’ll mount your penis and ride your cock as if you are a Kentucky race horse. What do you think of that, my lover?” I asked. 

    Less that twenty minutes later, Alain was on his back and his wonderful penis was buried eight-inches into my lubed asshole. I was bouncing like a child, who was playing upon a trampoline. I was in a Sissy’s 7th heaven. And marriage? That was the very last thing upon my creative mind. 

The End

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