From: nancytv29@aol.com (NancyTV29)
Subject: The Trainer (forced fem, BD/SM and great clothes)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
This is very adult fiction concerning bondage and forced feminization. It is for adult use only. This is the first chapter of a novel I have written. My hope that you'll like this first chapter enough to want to buy the rest of it. I'm trying to raise money for my sexual reassignment surgery which I hope to have in about a year. I'm just weeks away from throwing away my male clothes and starting my full-time trial. This is already, between the counselors, drugs and doctors, a very expensive process. So, I came up with the bright idea of writing and selling this fantasy story. It is well worth the $6 I'm charging, if I do say so myself ($1 is for mailing costs and printing). If you are a fan of the Reluctant Press or the Sandy Thomas books, then you'll like what you get for your money.
To order e-mail me at Nancy29TV@aol.com. I'll then e- mail chapters two and three, which were already published here on the Internet several months ago. Then, once I receive your $6 cash or money order (no checks), I'll send you a laser print-out of the rest of the novel. It is longer than most TV novels and I think just as long as The Bridges of Madison County (and better too). Mail the $6 to: Nancy Rose, 4375 West Desert Inn #D- 219, Las Vegas, NV 89102. Thanks very much for helping me achieve my dream.
Enjoy the story....
The Trainer
By Nancy Rose
(copyright 1996, all rights reserved)
Chapter One
He was a pretty one, the red-painted pouting lips so
full, the mascara making his eyes big and bright, the tight
red satin dress hugging his thin, curvy, oh-so-slightly
girlish form. The mistress had such an eye for these
boys, knew exactly which ones to pick.
"No," he whined. "Please. Why are you doing this?
Please, let me go."
He didn't know how sexy he looked when he begged.
The blond page-boy wig gave him such a sultry sex-kitten
look that his pleading, while out of quite sincere
desperation, just seemed like coy flirtation. His voice was
naturally high now, with just a hint of bass hinting at what
he used to be. How quickly we had sapped him of his
masculinity.
"Don't you want me?" I asked, knowing the answer.
I put a hand under his dress and ran a finger over the
little bulge in his red satin panties. His body had betrayed
him, its lust eroding his will, his desires making him
willing to give up anything to be with me. I didn't want
anything but his masculinity.
"You know I do," he finally said, tears welling in his
eyes.
"Then say it."
His arms, thin and smooth, looked so luscious as they
strained against the chains. His stockinged legs, so
shapely with high heels on his feet, could barely move
because the mistress had the spreader-bar locked
between his legs. He'd been standing, chained in the
box, his arms above him, his gams spread below him, for
almost ten hours.
It had been ten hours of me teasing him, making him
want me, making him beg the mistress to wear another
female garment. First the panties, then the bra, the garter
belt, the stockings, the make-up, the dress, the wig, and
finishing with a pair of 4-inch bright red heels with thin
ankle straps and bows at the toe. Sexier, more feminine
shoes have never been created.
With each garment he donned, I stroked his little thing,
but it was his tenth session and the mistress' potion was
changing him, making it harder and harder for him to
cum. His manhood could get amazingly stiff, but it would
never again be able to be instrument of his climax. Such
was the magic of the mistress' potion.
"I want you," he said.
"Will you be a girl for me?" I asked, knowing the
answer.
"Yes," he said, blushing with shame, already more girl
than boy.
"And you'll give the mistress your boyhood?" I asked
and gently stroked his hardened maleness.
"Yes," he said weakly, about to cry.
"You'll need to be a very dainty girl, you know."
"Yes. I know."
"We'll teach you how to be such a good sissy. You'll
learn how to walk like a girl, sit like a girl, even throw a
ball like a girl. Nothing about you will be allowed to
resemble a male."
I stroked him harder and harder. The poor dear wanted
to cum so bad. You could see it in his eyes, but release
was now impossible through his useless thing. But there
were other ways.
At his first session, so many weeks ago, he came in
just seconds, messing the pretty little panties she had
given him. Looking at me, with the promise of me
touching his thing, he barely resisted sliding those silky,
lacy undies up his legs.
When they're that young, it's an easy process. The
hormones are raging already, sexual hunger making
them easily persuaded. They need little help from
mistress' potion, a special recipe of hormones and
psychotropic drugs that erode resistance and increase
the power of suggestion.
Today was his twelfth session and his thing was no
longer able to spurt. The only way he could have relief
was through his tight little rear-end, where the prostate
waited, with much anticipation, to be manipulated.
But he would have to ask first. He would have to ask to
be fucked like a girl.
I was the trainer. I was to do the fucking.
"You want to cum don't you, my little pretty one?" I
asked.
"Ooooo yes," he said in a voice so sexy it almost made
me orgasm.
I stroked him harder and harder, knowing it would do
nothing but frustrate him more, decimating his will even
further.
"Does the little girly want to cum?"
"Uh-huh. Ooo yes."
"Then you'll be a girl for me? You'll cum like a girl?"
"Yes. Please anything. I can't take this anymore.
Pleeeeease."
Even his whining was sexy and feminine.
"I like my girlfriends to cum while I'm inside them."
"What? No, please no."
"What? My little girl doesn't want to cum?"
"Yes, she does, she does. But I don't want to be..."
"Fucked? Oh I think you do. You do, don't you?"
It's here, when they have just a little resistance left, that
the hypnotic effect of the potion does its most important
work.
"I do?"
"Yes, you do. You want to feel it deep inside you. It will
make you feel so good to have me inside you."
"Yes, it will make me feel very good."
"The more you feel like a girl, the better you will feel."
"Yes, please I want you inside me."
"My little girl wants fucked?"
"yes pleeeeease, yesssss, oh pleeeeease."
"Anything for my little girl."
I walked around behind him, my high heels ominously
clicking on the floor. I lifted my black leather skirt, pulled
off my black satin panties and let free my hardened
manhood. It had been five years since the mistress had
robbed me off the power to cum through it, but fucking
was still very, very, very pleasurable.
I lubed it up with KY. I was proud of it really. The rest of
me was so feminine and pretty now, I didn't mind have
something that was still male.
I nestled the head between his cheeks, barely pressing
into his little virgin rosebud.
"Pleeeease," he said. "Ooooo pleeeeease."
I thrust it in.
"Uggggggggghh!" he yelled, almost sounding like a boy
again. I knew I hurt him, but he'd get over it.
I started moving in and out slowly, then faster then
faster.
The mistress stepped forward to talk to the transformed
boy who was writhing in agony and ecstasy.
"Look at you , you little slut with a dick in your pussy,
begging to be fucked. You like it. You love it. From now
on, this is the only way you'll be able to cum. Do you
understand me?"
"Yesssss, Mistressssss," he managed to get out.
"Now cum for me, you little whore," she said. "Cum like
the girl you are, with a dick in your cunt."
He screamed loud, like a girl, his voice a lovely
screeching falsetto. His eyes clenched tight and he
grimaced, thrashing his head back and forth.
He had cum just like a girl, and he'd never be a boy
again.
To be continued...
To order e-mail me at Nancy29TV@aol.com. I'll then e-
mail you chapters two and three, which were already
published on the Internet several months ago. Then,
once I receive your $6 cash or money order, I'll send you
a laser print out of the rest of the novel. It is longer than
most TV novels and I think just as long as The Bridges of
Madison County (and better too). Mail the $6 to: Nancy
Rose, 4375 West Desert Inn #D-219, Las Vegas, NV
89102. Thanks very much for helping me achieve my
dream.
Path: news.demon.co.uk!dispatch.news.demon.net!demon!netcom.net.uk!netcom.com!www.nntp.primenet.com!nntp.primenet.com!howland.erols.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!news.infi.net!usenet From: Nancy <nancytv29@aol.com> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg,alt.sex.stories.gay,alt.sex.trans Subject: The Trainer (forced fem, BD, SM, and lots of kinky stuff Date: Fri, 20 Sep 1996 19:20:37 +0000 Organization: InfiNet Lines: 195 Message-ID: <3242EE85.5023@aol.com> NNTP-Posting-Host: pa2dsp24.vegas.infi.net Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Mailer: Mozilla 3.0 (Win95; I) Xref: news.demon.co.uk alt.sex.stories:132788 alt.sex.stories.tg:7984 alt.sex.stories.gay:12191 alt.sex.trans:32690
This is very adult fiction concerning bondage and forced feminization. It is for adult use only. This is the first chapter of a novel I have written. My hope that you'll like this first chapter enough to want to buy the rest of it. I'm trying to raise money for my sexual reassignment surgery which I hope to have in about a year. I'm just weeks away from throwing away my male clothes and starting my full-time trial. This is already, between the counselors, drugs and doctors, a very expensive process. So, I came up with the bright idea of writing and selling this fantasy story. It is well worth the $6 I'm charging, if I do say so myself ($1 is for mailing costs and printing). If you are a fan of the Reluctant Press or the Sandy Thomas books, then you'll like what you get for your money.
To order e-mail me at Nancy29TV@aol.com. I'll then e- mail chapters two and three, which were already published here on the Internet several months ago. Then, once I receive your $6 cash or money order (no checks), I'll send you a laser print-out of the rest of the novel. It is longer than most TV novels and I think just as long as The Bridges of Madison County (and better too). Mail the $6 to: Nancy Rose, 4375 West Desert Inn #D- 219, Las Vegas, NV 89102. Thanks very much for helping me achieve my dream.
Enjoy the story....
The Trainer
By Nancy Rose
(copyright 1996, all rights reserved)
Chapter One
He was a pretty one, the red-painted pouting lips so
full, the mascara making his eyes big and bright, the tight
red satin dress hugging his thin, curvy, oh-so-slightly
girlish form. The mistress had such an eye for these
boys, knew exactly which ones to pick.
"No," he whined. "Please. Why are you doing this?
Please, let me go."
He didn't know how sexy he looked when he begged.
The blond page-boy wig gave him such a sultry sex-kitten
look that his pleading, while out of quite sincere
desperation, just seemed like coy flirtation. His voice was
naturally high now, with just a hint of bass hinting at what
he used to be. How quickly we had sapped him of his
masculinity.
"Don't you want me?" I asked, knowing the answer.
I put a hand under his dress and ran a finger over the
little bulge in his red satin panties. His body had betrayed
him, its lust eroding his will, his desires making him
willing to give up anything to be with me. I didn't want
anything but his masculinity.
"You know I do," he finally said, tears welling in his
eyes.
"Then say it."
His arms, thin and smooth, looked so luscious as they
strained against the chains. His stockinged legs, so
shapely with high heels on his feet, could barely move
because the mistress had the spreader-bar locked
between his legs. He'd been standing, chained in the
box, his arms above him, his gams spread below him, for
almost ten hours.
It had been ten hours of me teasing him, making him
want me, making him beg the mistress to wear another
female garment. First the panties, then the bra, the garter
belt, the stockings, the make-up, the dress, the wig, and
finishing with a pair of 4-inch bright red heels with thin
ankle straps and bows at the toe. Sexier, more feminine
shoes have never been created.
With each garment he donned, I stroked his little thing,
but it was his tenth session and the mistress' potion was
changing him, making it harder and harder for him to
cum. His manhood could get amazingly stiff, but it would
never again be able to be instrument of his climax. Such
was the magic of the mistress' potion.
"I want you," he said.
"Will you be a girl for me?" I asked, knowing the
answer.
"Yes," he said, blushing with shame, already more girl
than boy.
"And you'll give the mistress your boyhood?" I asked
and gently stroked his hardened maleness.
"Yes," he said weakly, about to cry.
"You'll need to be a very dainty girl, you know."
"Yes. I know."
"We'll teach you how to be such a good sissy. You'll
learn how to walk like a girl, sit like a girl, even throw a
ball like a girl. Nothing about you will be allowed to
resemble a male."
I stroked him harder and harder. The poor dear wanted
to cum so bad. You could see it in his eyes, but release
was now impossible through his useless thing. But there
were other ways.
At his first session, so many weeks ago, he came in
just seconds, messing the pretty little panties she had
given him. Looking at me, with the promise of me
touching his thing, he barely resisted sliding those silky,
lacy undies up his legs.
When they're that young, it's an easy process. The
hormones are raging already, sexual hunger making
them easily persuaded. They need little help from
mistress' potion, a special recipe of hormones and
psychotropic drugs that erode resistance and increase
the power of suggestion.
Today was his twelfth session and his thing was no
longer able to spurt. The only way he could have relief
was through his tight little rear-end, where the prostate
waited, with much anticipation, to be manipulated.
But he would have to ask first. He would have to ask to
be fucked like a girl.
I was the trainer. I was to do the fucking.
"You want to cum don't you, my little pretty one?" I
asked.
"Ooooo yes," he said in a voice so sexy it almost made
me orgasm.
I stroked him harder and harder, knowing it would do
nothing but frustrate him more, decimating his will even
further.
"Does the little girly want to cum?"
"Uh-huh. Ooo yes."
"Then you'll be a girl for me? You'll cum like a girl?"
"Yes. Please anything. I can't take this anymore.
Pleeeeease."
Even his whining was sexy and feminine.
"I like my girlfriends to cum while I'm inside them."
"What? No, please no."
"What? My little girl doesn't want to cum?"
"Yes, she does, she does. But I don't want to be..."
"Fucked? Oh I think you do. You do, don't you?"
It's here, when they have just a little resistance left, that
the hypnotic effect of the potion does its most important
work.
"I do?"
"Yes, you do. You want to feel it deep inside you. It will
make you feel so good to have me inside you."
"Yes, it will make me feel very good."
"The more you feel like a girl, the better you will feel."
"Yes, please I want you inside me."
"My little girl wants fucked?"
"yes pleeeeease, yesssss, oh pleeeeease."
"Anything for my little girl."
I walked around behind him, my high heels ominously
clicking on the floor. I lifted my black leather skirt, pulled
off my black satin panties and let free my hardened
manhood. It had been five years since the mistress had
robbed me off the power to cum through it, but fucking
was still very, very, very pleasurable.
I lubed it up with KY. I was proud of it really. The rest of
me was so feminine and pretty now, I didn't mind have
something that was still male.
I nestled the head between his cheeks, barely pressing
into his little virgin rosebud.
"Pleeeease," he said. "Ooooo pleeeeease."
I thrust it in.
"Uggggggggghh!" he yelled, almost sounding like a boy
again. I knew I hurt him, but he'd get over it.
I started moving in and out slowly, then faster then
faster.
The mistress stepped forward to talk to the transformed
boy who was writhing in agony and ecstasy.
"Look at you , you little slut with a dick in your pussy,
begging to be fucked. You like it. You love it. From now
on, this is the only way you'll be able to cum. Do you
understand me?"
"Yesssss, Mistressssss," he managed to get out.
"Now cum for me, you little whore," she said. "Cum like
the girl you are, with a dick in your cunt."
He screamed loud, like a girl, his voice a lovely
screeching falsetto. His eyes clenched tight and he
grimaced, thrashing his head back and forth.
He had cum just like a girl, and he'd never be a boy
again.
To be continued...
To order e-mail me at Nancy29TV@aol.com. I'll then e-
mail you chapters two and three, which were already
published on the Internet several months ago. Then,
once I receive your $6 cash or money order, I'll send you
a laser print out of the rest of the novel. It is longer than
most TV novels and I think just as long as The Bridges of
Madison County (and better too). Mail the $6 to: Nancy
Rose, 4375 West Desert Inn #D-219, Las Vegas, NV
89102. Thanks very much for helping me achieve my
dream.
Go back to the main erotica page.