I Enjoy Forced Feminization Stories
I Want To Be Trapped... The following story is a little bit of speculative fantasy, not all of it is going to be realistic for various reasons but is meant to be fun in any kind of perverse way you can take it. I hope you enjoy reading it...
I had a bit of a secret before all of this started; I was quite the cross dresser. It had all started innocently enough as curiosity of what it would like to be a girl and I never let it go as time went on. I thought that the idea was perfectly normal, there didn't seem to be anything wrong as far as I was concerned, but society had taught me otherwise so I kept this secret to myself. After a while, I was happily committed in a relationship that was going well, but I didn't tell her anything about my secret. We both worked, I was an orderly at a hospital and she was a plastic surgeon, and it just so happened to be opposite shifts but our days off lined up with one another so we could not complain too much.
Then the layoffs came and I was without a job while she continued to work and support the two of us while I searched for employment. However, when not looking for employment I would happily venture to our room and relive some of the fantasy that I had when I was younger. I was fortunate to have found someone who was close to the same size as me, if not a little bit bigger, so finding clothes was never an issue. I would sometimes ask myself 'Is this right?' or 'Should I really be doing this?', and I could never come up with a reason good enough to stop. Finally, a day had come along where everything was going to change.
I had pulled all the blinds down and locked the door, the last thing I needed was nosy neighbors coming over and inviting themselves in when it was my girl time. I kept checking the clock, I had plenty of time but time does indeed fly when you are having fun. I had just finished putting on the last minute touches from the hip hugging jeans, loose t-shirt, panties, bra with my home homemade breast forms of pantyhose and rice, make up and a wig that I had purchased a few months ago for Halloween. I smiled as I looked in the bathroom mirror and turned to one side and the next completely satisfied with my appearance, my girl time could begin once I walked through the bathroom door.
"What the fuck?" I heard my girlfriend shout as I stood there in the doorway.
A locked door could keep neighbors and unwanted visitors out, but anybody who had the key, such as she did, could come right on in.
"I-I-I, uh..." I tried in vain to explain myself as I stood there in her clothes dressed to the nines and look fairly feminine, "honey, I can explain."
She stood there in total shock with her mouth agape as I slowly walked toward her, taking up a feminine gait as I moved.
"Um," I started and paused for a second, what do you say to somebody who knows almost all of your intimate secrets? "I cross dress" I had managed to weakly get out before lowering my eyes. "I started at a young age and thought that it was okay, but as I got older I did it less and less until I stopped completely. It has been a few years since I dressed and when I lost my job, I needed a pick me up."
"Is this what you have been doing since then?" she asked, I was not really sure how to judge her tone.
"No," I replied with my eyes still averting hers as I looked to the ground seeing the breasts through the shirt I was wearing, "I have been looking for a job, but after I finish all my checking in with places that I have applied, I, " I paused because it still felt awkward to explain myself to her, "I dress up for a little while."
She had fallen silent, we both stood there for a few minutes with saying a word, making a single move, or even letting out a sigh. I can't say for sure what was going through her mind at the time, I know now, but then I was certain that she was going to throw me out on my ass. Knowing people as I did, I bit my lip as I waited for her to start screaming at me but she stayed quiet. Finally, I broke the silence.
"Honey, if you want me to leave, I will. I'll understand" what choice did I have? It's not like this was a normal, everyday thing.
"No" she said in a short and soft tone.
We stood there for a few minutes more until she ventured to the couch in the living room, I didn't want to move for fear that I would somehow start an argument.
"I can go change if you want" I offered in an attempt to ease the tension.
"No, you're fine, sweetheart."
'Sweetheart? Did she just call me sweetheart?' I thought to myself.
"Come here" she invited softly, I could almost hear a smile in her tone of voice.
The first couple of steps were more like slow shuffles across the floor until I had figured that it was best to get out there as quickly as I could. When I walked passed the couch to cross the living room to the loveseat on the opposite side I looked to her and saw a smile across her face.
"What are you doing?" she asked and I stopped.
"Sitting over here" I replied and pointed to the loveseat.
She shook her head and held out her hand with her index finger pointing to the floor just in front of her, "No, you will come here" she was still smiling but her tone seemed a little firm.
I didn't want to argue at that point, she had me at a disadvantage. I did as she had firmly requested and stood before her while she came to her feet to inspect me. I started to bite the inside of my lip, she seemed okay with it, but that didn't mean that it was going to be okay.
"You certainly are practiced" she commented as she looked over my makeup and wig. Her hands came up to my shoulders and traced along them until moving down the front of my body to the breast forms that I had made, "Not all that realistic," she observed and gave them a lift in each hand, "but they do have weight to them". Her hands continued down the front of my body until she reached the hip hugging jeans and ran her fingers around the waistline "It's too bad that you don't have my hips, otherwise they would be perfect". The next move shocked me; before I knew it, she moved her hands around to my ass, pulling me closer and keeping her left hand there while her right hand braced my back and her left leg wrapped around mine. "If you want this, I will help you."
My heart raced, I could not believe what I was hearing, and then my mind raced. Could this be a trap? Could this mean the eventual end of our relationship? The thoughts of her losing interest with me being feminine came to the forefront of my mind, I didn't want to lose her. "I-I-I-..." I stammered nervously unable to form the words that I wanted to speak.
"It's okay," she softly reassured, "I'm right here."
I let out a sigh and leaned in closer, "I want this."
She smiled and we kissed deeply and sensually. The she pulled back and looked me over once more, "Be careful what you wish for," she continued to smile but it seemed kind of mocking, "because you might just get it."
She turned and made her way for the bedroom, but not before firmly telling me to stay where I was. I did as she had told me and waited, not sure of what to expect when she had returned; I was shocked when she had. She stood at the entry to the living room in a black dress that showed exposed her cleavage in a lustful manner, with narrow straps on her shoulders, and the lower portion of the dress hugging her curves and stopping just above her knees. She stood there smiling with her arms folded, pushing her breasts up a little higher to make them look bigger.
"I've always kind of wondered about you," she said and started to pace around me as I stood there, "you had some feminine mannerisms, but I just figured maybe you were comfortable with yourself. Then I come home and find this? Imagine just how surprised I am."
I gulped as she continued to pace, I was starting to feel ill at ease.
"You want to be a woman?" she continued and chuckled mockingly, "I'll make you a woman from head to toe. Oh sure, I should make sure you go through therapy, but really, who's going to stop me?"
My mind started to connect the dots, I was in a relationship with a plastic surgeon.
"Oh the things that I could do to you," she said and stopped when she came back to in front of me, "I could work on your face, give you a referral to electrolysis so we can remove unwanted hair, the possibilities are endless. I could even," she slowly approached me and placed her hands upon my breasts, "make these a reality for you."
"Um, you don't have to. I know I need to see a therapist before-"
"Oh shut up" she said and took me by the shoulders to turn me around and plant me on the couch forcefully. "I'm not asking for your opinion. You want to be a woman? You're going to be a woman!"
The first week was full of radical changes, she told me not to worry about getting anymore because my job would be to take care of her house. When I tried to ask if she meant our house, she forcefully insisted that it was her house and I was just the bitch she kept in it. All of my male clothes, the ones that would definitely convey that I was male, were thrown out in the garbage and she gave me full access to her clothes as well as some catalogs that I could browse through to find things that I liked. I was only allowed to dress in feminine clothes and subject to her inspected each morning when I got dressed.
In the weeks following, the transformation had begun. Electrolysis was the first appointment, the first of many that I would have from what she had told me. In spite of being given a topical anesthetic, the procedure felt like pins and needles against my skin. Over the next few months I had plastic surgery appointments, some under her care and others under the care of others through her referral. The recovery from getting my face done was excruciating, to the point where I thought I was going to be sick, but she happily waited on me hand and foot the whole way through. It was an entire year later when she put me under the knife for breast implants; she was going to make a 42C, but was not afraid to let me know that was just a start.
The whole process took a lot of getting used to, and there were a lot of special instructions to follow but she was more than willing to keep me on track the whole way through. She let me keep my genitalia for some time mostly for her benefit instead of mine; she even thought about letting it stay that way until some long consideration had taken place.
"Hmm, no, it's got to go" she said in a simplistic manner.
Vaginoplasty was the next big step, and this part she took great lengths in reminding me that was irreversible. She taunted and teased me, playing with my penis every once in a while, jerking it off until I came which is when she would say; "Enjoy that while it lasts, because it's going away." When I was put under I was alone with my thoughts, thinking of what was happening to me until hours and hours had passed. When I awoke, she stood there at my bedside and was pleased to tell me that there was no going back. The next few months required vaginal dilation with some follow up checks and procedures to ensure that everything was as it should be. After I had finished my recovery she had put me to work as a woman in her home.
Depending on her mood I would either take care of the general home chores or wait on her hand and foot. She would take me out on dates, or out in general, we would socialize with her friends and family, it was all new to me. She would leave for work and I would be left to my own devices more often than not, completely dependent on her to do anything otherwise. At first life didn't seem so bad, but then the reality began to sink in. With her doing what she had done, everything being unsanctioned, I had no identity of my own. I couldn't drive anywhere because I didn't have a license that matched my new life, I could not get a job without a social security number, nobody in my family recognized me, none of my friends even knew what happened to me. Things didn't seem so bright.
I brought my concerns to her attention one day after running out of ideas. Her response was mocking and she said it all with a sinister smile; "You're trapped. You can never leave me, ever. You will never be able to have a life without me. I've helped you realize your dream and it is only now that you realize it is a nightmare. You're my woman, I love you, and I will keep you with me forever as my lover. You can't escape, you have no where to go; all you can do is be a woman. By the way, your next breast augmentation is coming up; I hope you're ready for E cups" she finished with a mocking laugh.
This all started with a secret and ended with me being trapped.
I had a bit of a secret before all of this started; I was quite the cross dresser. It had all started innocently enough as curiosity of what it would like to be a girl and I never let it go as time went on. I thought that the idea was perfectly normal, there didn't seem to be anything wrong as far as I was concerned, but society had taught me otherwise so I kept this secret to myself. After a while, I was happily committed in a relationship that was going well, but I didn't tell her anything about my secret. We both worked, I was an orderly at a hospital and she was a plastic surgeon, and it just so happened to be opposite shifts but our days off lined up with one another so we could not complain too much.
Then the layoffs came and I was without a job while she continued to work and support the two of us while I searched for employment. However, when not looking for employment I would happily venture to our room and relive some of the fantasy that I had when I was younger. I was fortunate to have found someone who was close to the same size as me, if not a little bit bigger, so finding clothes was never an issue. I would sometimes ask myself 'Is this right?' or 'Should I really be doing this?', and I could never come up with a reason good enough to stop. Finally, a day had come along where everything was going to change.
I had pulled all the blinds down and locked the door, the last thing I needed was nosy neighbors coming over and inviting themselves in when it was my girl time. I kept checking the clock, I had plenty of time but time does indeed fly when you are having fun. I had just finished putting on the last minute touches from the hip hugging jeans, loose t-shirt, panties, bra with my home homemade breast forms of pantyhose and rice, make up and a wig that I had purchased a few months ago for Halloween. I smiled as I looked in the bathroom mirror and turned to one side and the next completely satisfied with my appearance, my girl time could begin once I walked through the bathroom door.
"What the fuck?" I heard my girlfriend shout as I stood there in the doorway.
A locked door could keep neighbors and unwanted visitors out, but anybody who had the key, such as she did, could come right on in.
"I-I-I, uh..." I tried in vain to explain myself as I stood there in her clothes dressed to the nines and look fairly feminine, "honey, I can explain."
She stood there in total shock with her mouth agape as I slowly walked toward her, taking up a feminine gait as I moved.
"Um," I started and paused for a second, what do you say to somebody who knows almost all of your intimate secrets? "I cross dress" I had managed to weakly get out before lowering my eyes. "I started at a young age and thought that it was okay, but as I got older I did it less and less until I stopped completely. It has been a few years since I dressed and when I lost my job, I needed a pick me up."
"Is this what you have been doing since then?" she asked, I was not really sure how to judge her tone.
"No," I replied with my eyes still averting hers as I looked to the ground seeing the breasts through the shirt I was wearing, "I have been looking for a job, but after I finish all my checking in with places that I have applied, I, " I paused because it still felt awkward to explain myself to her, "I dress up for a little while."
She had fallen silent, we both stood there for a few minutes with saying a word, making a single move, or even letting out a sigh. I can't say for sure what was going through her mind at the time, I know now, but then I was certain that she was going to throw me out on my ass. Knowing people as I did, I bit my lip as I waited for her to start screaming at me but she stayed quiet. Finally, I broke the silence.
"Honey, if you want me to leave, I will. I'll understand" what choice did I have? It's not like this was a normal, everyday thing.
"No" she said in a short and soft tone.
We stood there for a few minutes more until she ventured to the couch in the living room, I didn't want to move for fear that I would somehow start an argument.
"I can go change if you want" I offered in an attempt to ease the tension.
"No, you're fine, sweetheart."
'Sweetheart? Did she just call me sweetheart?' I thought to myself.
"Come here" she invited softly, I could almost hear a smile in her tone of voice.
The first couple of steps were more like slow shuffles across the floor until I had figured that it was best to get out there as quickly as I could. When I walked passed the couch to cross the living room to the loveseat on the opposite side I looked to her and saw a smile across her face.
"What are you doing?" she asked and I stopped.
"Sitting over here" I replied and pointed to the loveseat.
She shook her head and held out her hand with her index finger pointing to the floor just in front of her, "No, you will come here" she was still smiling but her tone seemed a little firm.
I didn't want to argue at that point, she had me at a disadvantage. I did as she had firmly requested and stood before her while she came to her feet to inspect me. I started to bite the inside of my lip, she seemed okay with it, but that didn't mean that it was going to be okay.
"You certainly are practiced" she commented as she looked over my makeup and wig. Her hands came up to my shoulders and traced along them until moving down the front of my body to the breast forms that I had made, "Not all that realistic," she observed and gave them a lift in each hand, "but they do have weight to them". Her hands continued down the front of my body until she reached the hip hugging jeans and ran her fingers around the waistline "It's too bad that you don't have my hips, otherwise they would be perfect". The next move shocked me; before I knew it, she moved her hands around to my ass, pulling me closer and keeping her left hand there while her right hand braced my back and her left leg wrapped around mine. "If you want this, I will help you."
My heart raced, I could not believe what I was hearing, and then my mind raced. Could this be a trap? Could this mean the eventual end of our relationship? The thoughts of her losing interest with me being feminine came to the forefront of my mind, I didn't want to lose her. "I-I-I-..." I stammered nervously unable to form the words that I wanted to speak.
"It's okay," she softly reassured, "I'm right here."
I let out a sigh and leaned in closer, "I want this."
She smiled and we kissed deeply and sensually. The she pulled back and looked me over once more, "Be careful what you wish for," she continued to smile but it seemed kind of mocking, "because you might just get it."
She turned and made her way for the bedroom, but not before firmly telling me to stay where I was. I did as she had told me and waited, not sure of what to expect when she had returned; I was shocked when she had. She stood at the entry to the living room in a black dress that showed exposed her cleavage in a lustful manner, with narrow straps on her shoulders, and the lower portion of the dress hugging her curves and stopping just above her knees. She stood there smiling with her arms folded, pushing her breasts up a little higher to make them look bigger.
"I've always kind of wondered about you," she said and started to pace around me as I stood there, "you had some feminine mannerisms, but I just figured maybe you were comfortable with yourself. Then I come home and find this? Imagine just how surprised I am."
I gulped as she continued to pace, I was starting to feel ill at ease.
"You want to be a woman?" she continued and chuckled mockingly, "I'll make you a woman from head to toe. Oh sure, I should make sure you go through therapy, but really, who's going to stop me?"
My mind started to connect the dots, I was in a relationship with a plastic surgeon.
"Oh the things that I could do to you," she said and stopped when she came back to in front of me, "I could work on your face, give you a referral to electrolysis so we can remove unwanted hair, the possibilities are endless. I could even," she slowly approached me and placed her hands upon my breasts, "make these a reality for you."
"Um, you don't have to. I know I need to see a therapist before-"
"Oh shut up" she said and took me by the shoulders to turn me around and plant me on the couch forcefully. "I'm not asking for your opinion. You want to be a woman? You're going to be a woman!"
The first week was full of radical changes, she told me not to worry about getting anymore because my job would be to take care of her house. When I tried to ask if she meant our house, she forcefully insisted that it was her house and I was just the bitch she kept in it. All of my male clothes, the ones that would definitely convey that I was male, were thrown out in the garbage and she gave me full access to her clothes as well as some catalogs that I could browse through to find things that I liked. I was only allowed to dress in feminine clothes and subject to her inspected each morning when I got dressed.
In the weeks following, the transformation had begun. Electrolysis was the first appointment, the first of many that I would have from what she had told me. In spite of being given a topical anesthetic, the procedure felt like pins and needles against my skin. Over the next few months I had plastic surgery appointments, some under her care and others under the care of others through her referral. The recovery from getting my face done was excruciating, to the point where I thought I was going to be sick, but she happily waited on me hand and foot the whole way through. It was an entire year later when she put me under the knife for breast implants; she was going to make a 42C, but was not afraid to let me know that was just a start.
The whole process took a lot of getting used to, and there were a lot of special instructions to follow but she was more than willing to keep me on track the whole way through. She let me keep my genitalia for some time mostly for her benefit instead of mine; she even thought about letting it stay that way until some long consideration had taken place.
"Hmm, no, it's got to go" she said in a simplistic manner.
Vaginoplasty was the next big step, and this part she took great lengths in reminding me that was irreversible. She taunted and teased me, playing with my penis every once in a while, jerking it off until I came which is when she would say; "Enjoy that while it lasts, because it's going away." When I was put under I was alone with my thoughts, thinking of what was happening to me until hours and hours had passed. When I awoke, she stood there at my bedside and was pleased to tell me that there was no going back. The next few months required vaginal dilation with some follow up checks and procedures to ensure that everything was as it should be. After I had finished my recovery she had put me to work as a woman in her home.
Depending on her mood I would either take care of the general home chores or wait on her hand and foot. She would take me out on dates, or out in general, we would socialize with her friends and family, it was all new to me. She would leave for work and I would be left to my own devices more often than not, completely dependent on her to do anything otherwise. At first life didn't seem so bad, but then the reality began to sink in. With her doing what she had done, everything being unsanctioned, I had no identity of my own. I couldn't drive anywhere because I didn't have a license that matched my new life, I could not get a job without a social security number, nobody in my family recognized me, none of my friends even knew what happened to me. Things didn't seem so bright.
I brought my concerns to her attention one day after running out of ideas. Her response was mocking and she said it all with a sinister smile; "You're trapped. You can never leave me, ever. You will never be able to have a life without me. I've helped you realize your dream and it is only now that you realize it is a nightmare. You're my woman, I love you, and I will keep you with me forever as my lover. You can't escape, you have no where to go; all you can do is be a woman. By the way, your next breast augmentation is coming up; I hope you're ready for E cups" she finished with a mocking laugh.
This all started with a secret and ended with me being trapped.
41-45, T
