 |
|||
|
|
The Long Embrace of Change
Part V
“Wow – she’s really coming along!”
We sat at a window in a coffee shop downtown. It was a couple of blocks away from the campus where Chris worked, and she (though, biologically, Chris was still he) was headed home. It was a late Monday afternoon. She walked along the sidewalk on the other side of the street. She had no idea we were there – in fact, had no conscious idea we even existed.
I had to agree with Kim. She really was coming along. Four months after I’d last seen her – six months after we’d started her conversion – she was really starting to look like the woman she was becoming. Her hair was now tied back in a short ponytail. Her ass was rounding out nicely, and her tits were visible as a pair of bulges under her shirt. People who worked with her every day probably didn’t notice them, but I only saw her sporadically. She wore jeans, but if wall was going well, her body under those clothes was as smooth-shaven as her face. The drugs she was taking caused her facial hair to come in more lightly, so at the end of a long day, there was virtually no shadow. I wondered if she even had to shave every day anymore.
“Not too much longer now, you know. You come up with a new name for her yet?”
I turned back toward Kim. “She’ll be Tina.” I nodded. “Yes. Tina. My Tina.” I liked the sound of that – my Tina.
Up to now, most of the changes had been cosmetic. She could now clearly see the changes in his appearance, and her attitude toward herself was changing, but as far as she was concerned, she was still Chris – a he. It was fundamentally no different from making someone play dress-up or wear a costume. We had to awaken a new self within her – one that would grow as her body changed and eventually consume the former self. She would replace him, as though his past was nourishment for another.
And the new self – Tina – would submit herself completely to me.
Behavioral changes were also underway. She started shaving her body two months ago – we would soon see if the practice had become routine – and, at the time, got a Prince Albert that forced her to piss sitting down. The latter behavior was reinforced hypnotically by the Circle member who operated the piercing studio. But so far, it was all just motions – nothing that really reoriented her view of herself.
I was really becoming drawn toward her. Partly, it was appreciation of what was, in part, my own creation – but something about the former Chris was really taking root in my soul. I could see this person becoming a lovely young woman. The more I watched her, the more I found her quirks endearing. The more I appreciated her developing curves, her face, her eyes. Yes, I was going to own her – but I was also starting to really love her.
It’s hard to explain the kind of love I felt. It was somewhat like the love felt by an owner toward a pet. This was someone I would care for, and she would care for (and serve) me. I would be everything to her. But it was more than that. Not quite romantic love, but there was also the growing realization that this person – soon to be a male lesbian – would be able to satisfy me in many ways.
Odd that I should feel this way, since I’d never really spoken with her. I’d spoken to her, but it was only to issue instructions, and she was in a deep trance every time. I really wanted to snap my fingers, get her out of her trance, talk to her. But I couldn’t.
This was soon to change. That morning, I’d moved temporarily into an apartment near Kim’s business. It wasn’t far away from where I worked, and I would only live there until we finished the conversion process – a few weeks.
The name of the apartment complex was wonderfully ironic – “Silk-Trappe Apartments.” The name had nothing to do with the silken traps spun by the Circle when they converted young men into male lesbian slaves – the building happens to be on the corner of Trappe Avenue and 10th Street. Trappe Ave. is named after a tycoon who once controlled much of the city. Peter Trappe made his fortune from silk. He was able to import silk thread from overseas cheap – he owned the silkworm farms in Asia and a fleet of clipper ships – and sell it to the people who made the silk textiles that made our city famous. The silk factories were all clustered along this stretch of 10th St., which has always been called “Silk Street.”
The silk industry was long gone, and the old factories had all been converted to other things – coffee shops, clothing stores, even a couple of lingerie shops. The piercing studio where we’d had Chris pierce his ears, nipples, and cock was at one end of old Silk Street – the end closest to the university campus, where more upscale shopping gave way to cheap eateries. And Kim’s business, a beauty salon and day spa, was right in the middle.
We left the coffee shop and followed Chris. It wasn’t far to the alley that she took to her apartment, and as soon as she turned to it, Kim blew through the whistle a few times.
I heard nothing. Neither did anyone standing around us. But it stopped Chris as though an invisible wall had suddenly sprung from the ground. She didn’t stagger or stumble – she simply stopped walking and stood still, with her legs spread out slightly and arms to the sides.
We walked over to her. Her face was completely expressionless. Her eyes were open, but not widely – there was no appearance of surprise. Her lips were slightly parted.
We checked to make sure no one else was in the alley – unlikely at this time of day – and hiked up her right jeans leg a few inches. The exposed skin was hairless. She was shaving her legs, at least.
We gently pushed at her shoulders, forcing her to back up against a wall. An abandoned refrigerator stood between Chris and the opening to the alleyway – no one could see her but us. Kim nodded to me, and I quickly undid her belt buckle and unfastened the top button. Thankfully, her jeans had a zipper and not button fly, so I was able to quickly and smoothly draw her jeans open. I pulled back on the elastic of her briefs and saw that, apart from a fuzzy dark brown triangle right over her ringed dick, her crotch was still smooth and clean.
I turned to Kim and gave her a thumbs-up sign.
We faced Chris and gave her instructions. She stood passively and soaked them in.
|
|
|