From agate!howland.reston.ans.net!ix.netcom.com!netnews Tue Oct  3 10:35:06 1995
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From: b1223@ix.netcom.com (b1223 )
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg
Subject: Lisa's TG Library: "A Very Good Boy" by Chelsea Brown
Date: 2 Oct 1995 08:07:41 GMT
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Didn't write it, not responsible for it, enjoy it!
-Lisa Blades


A Very Good Boy
by Chelsea Brown

******
 
 Christopher was a good boy. 
 
 Everyone said he was a good boy.  His teacher did, his mother did 
 and his Aunt Roberta did.  And Mr. Blenkinsop, the history 
 teacher, said he was a very good boy.
 
 The only problem was, Mr Blenkinsop said, that Christopher was 
 not doing very well in history.  Christopher was a popular boy, 
 and well behaved, but those English Queens had him  totally 
 confused.
  
 Mr Blenkinsop said he liked Christopher, and was willing to give 
 him extra tuition!  Christopher's mother was VERY pleased, 
 because she could not afford a  private tutor, but wanted to afford 
 Christopher every opportunity. 
  
 So it came about that, the following Saturday morning, if you had 
 been standing just outside Mr Blenkinsop's house, you would 
 have seen Christopher go cycling up to his front door, get off his 
 bike, lean it against the privet hedge, and push the big brass bell.
  
 You would also, if you'd been looking, have seen Mr Blenkinsop 
 open the door, and welcome Christopher, tell him to wipe his feet 
 on the mat, usher him inside the house, and close the big front 
 door after him. 
 
 Inside, Mr Blenkinsop showed Christopher to the study, and 
 heated up a kettle to make some tea.  Christopher sat down on 
 the edge of the leather settee and looked at all the books on the 
 shelves.  He didn't see Mr Blenkinsop carefully pour some white 
 powder from a screw of paper into one of the cups before bringing 
 in the tea things on a tray. 
  
 Mr Blenkinsop started talking about school, and Christopher's 
 class mates, and the girls at school, and history, and other things 
 of no importance as he poured the tea, and passed a cup - THE 
 cup - to Christopher, along with a plate of cookies.  Christopher 
 drank his tea without gurgling it, as he'd been taught, and had 
 one cookie - out of politeness.  The tea tasted strange, but he 
 assumed it was some expensive blend that he was unfamiliar 
 with, and that he was  a very lucky boy to be given it.
 
 Mr Blenkinsop came and sat next to Christopher on the settee, 
 and Christopher found that Mr Blenkinsop's voice had a 
 hypnotic, droning quality to it.  Pretty soon, although he was 
 hearing the words, and was able to respond to them it was with 
 all the animation of a zombie.
 
 Mr Blenkinsop checked his watch and cleared the tea things into 
 the kitchen.  As he washed up the cups, he thought about the 
 many times he had invited Christopher around in the past.  The 
 first time, how carefully he had hypnotized the boy - a job made 
 easier subsequently by the introduction of the mind altering drug 
 that he slipped into Christopher's tea.  Mr Blenkinsop checked 
 his watch...another few minutes, and the drug would be at full 
 power.  Mr Blenkinsop reflected on how lucky he was to have 
 found Christopher.  He looked at Christopher, sitting on the 
 couch, upright but deep in the trance.  The boy was small for his 
 17 years, slim and lithe without an ounce of surplus fat, blonde 
 haired and blue eyed, and still too young to shave.  All of which 
 added up to a perfect candidate for the teachers very special 
 requirements.
 
 By the time the tea-things had been put away, Mr Blenkinsop 
 decided it was time to proceed to the next stage of the plan.  He 
 sat down next to the boy and whispered into his ear.  Christopher 
 felt, rather than heard, Mr Blenkinsop tell him to follow him. He 
 stood up and with sure steps mounted the stairs.  When he got 
 into the bedroom that had been prepared with loving attention to 
 detail, he found that he wasn't surprised to find, laid out on the 
 bed, a beautiful satin peignoir; with a blonde wig and makeup on the 
 dresser, and heels and stockings by the side of them.  Under Mr 
 Blenkinsop's insistence, he sat at the dresser, having first 
 undressed completely, and found that he seemed to know 
 instinctively how to apply makeup.  He added a pair of gold 
 earrings and placed the lush blonde wig on his head, brushing
 the golden hair into an exciting, feminine young style. 
 From the bed, he picked up the silky stockings, rosing them up 
 before slipping them up his silky young legs. Next, he fastened
 a wide, black satin garterbelt around his slim waist, and as he
 fastened the 4 elstic straps to the stocking tops, he was seemingly
 oblivious to the way the black satin framed his small blonde bush,
 with the boyish cock most invitingly.
 Next, he picked up the silk teddy slipping it over his slim hips
 before slipping the straps up his slim arms. Next he slipped into the
 peignoir, arranging it loosely across his shoulders before tying the
 ends firmly at her waist.  Finally, a pair of black patent leather
heels
 completed the picture as she stood coyly before a full length mirror 
 and struck a sultry pose.  Christopher was now Christine.
 
 She stood there, a beautiful robot awaiting orders.  Mr Blenkinsop
watched 
 her, savoring the next moment.  After a moment or two, he whispered
 softly to her.   The effect was startling, like a doll coming to life.
 Fire flashed in her eyes and she took a couple of deep breaths
 She turned to look at herself in the mirror and,  when she saw her
image,
 let out a soft moan.  She saw Mr  Blenkinsop approach her and gently 
 caress her shoulders.  She turned to him, put her arms around his neck

 and gave him a deep  kiss, her tongue probing its way into his mouth.
 She could feel his hardness push into her belly.  Eventually, she
pulled 
 away  and lay back on the bed, inviting Mr Blenkinsop to join her.  He

 dropped his trousers and pants and hopped over to the bed.  As she
 wiggled into his arms she again turned her mouth towards his, seeking
 his kisses before instinctively turning away from him, arching her 
 pert little bottom for his enjoyment, wiggling it against Mr
Blenkinsop
 as he had taught her, so long ago.
 
 When Christine had heard the command to wake up, she had 
 become aware of more energy flowing through her than ever 
 before.  She looked at the reflection of Mr Blenkinsop, behind her.
 
 <You pathetic little man>, she thought.  <If I didn't need you, I'd 
 never let you touch me.>  She turned to kiss him, to keep him 
 sweet.  <But what you don't know is I'm getting stronger with 
 each visit.  Soon, I'll be able to take over for good, and 
 then....'Goodbye Blenkinsop'!  Until then, you get to paw me and 
 violate me, just as you want.>  She lay back onto the bed and 
 readied herself for his onslaught. As he forced his way into her, 
 she remembered an incident that had occurred only that week!  
 Christopher had been walking through a shopping mall with 
 some school buddies, and had stopped to gape at the sexy clothes 
 in the window of a lingerie store.  Christine had felt her self 
 awaken, and was soon eying the satin panties and lace bras on 
 display.  She had felt her pussy get wet and had only been 
 frightened back inside Christopher by his friends jostling him 
 and joking crudely about his rather obvious erection.
 
 She felt Mr Blenkinsop's hand encircle her excited young cock.  <If I 
 was a real girl>, she thought, <you'd run a mile.  It's only because 
 Christopher has a cock that I interest you.  But I won't be yours
 forever.  One day I'll be my own vision of a single girl!> 
 She squirmed round in the bed, and continued to play the game,
 moving herself into the classic '69' position.  She took Mr 
 Blenkinsop's small, rather pudgy, member into her mouth, and 
 began the movements that she had learnt would please him.  
 <One, possibly two years doing this to guys like you but for 
 cash>, she thought, distastefully, <and I can afford the 
 operations.  When I finish letting my hair grow long and thick,
 and get the injections of hormones and the breast implants, 
 all courtesy of a clinic that cares more about cash than morals!  
 I'll be 19 or 20, and then it's off to Las Vegas, Paris, Monte Carlo. 

 Show girl or exotic dancer, with a special surprise for the
 wealthy ones with the gourmet tastes...every night a new stud 
 who will know how to please me, and beg to do so!!!
 New clothes to wear, jewelry, parties, summers spent tanning on
 the Riviera; with luck  I can keep going for 15 or 20 years. 
 After that, who cares!>
 
 Her excitement produced the required result and she squirted a 
 stream of hot jism down Mr Blenkinsop's throat.  In turn he 
 managed a few drops of a rather clear liquid to trickle onto her 
 tongue.  She clambered off the bed and ran into the bathroom.  
 She washed her mouth out and  gargled with his mouthwash. <I 
 owe my life to you>, she thought.  <You hypnotized Christopher 
 to take all his feminine traits and combine them into one 
 personality...me!  You thought that only you could keep bringing 
 me to life, but I know that's not true.  Every time I am given that 
 drug of yours, I feel stronger and stay longer.  And that incident 
 in the mall is only one of many that has happened recently.  
 Even without the drug I am taking over!  One day.......one 
 day.........>  She gave a groan as she felt a familiar stirring in her

 loin.  She looked at the clock.  <Fifty-five minutes!  That's over 
 ten minutes better than last time!>, she thought with a smile.
 
 She went back into the bedroom.  "It's time", she said.  Mr 
 Blenkinsop tried to reason with her, but she was adamant.  "I can 
 feel him stirring, wondering what's happening.  If he comes back 
 when 'he' looks like this....", she slid her hands up and down her 
 body, sensuously, "....he'll figure out what's going on and never 
 come back".  Mr Blenkinsop had to agree, and watched as 
 Christine sat down at the dressing table, pulled her wig off, and 
 started taking off her makeup.
 
 A few minutes later, she was back downstairs, dressed in 
 Christopher's cutoffs and t-shirt.  Mr Blenkinsop moved in for one 
 last kiss, but she backed away.  "Not when I'm dressed like this," 
 she said.  "You know I can't".  She sat down on the couch.  "Do it!", 
 she commanded,  "Do it now!".  Mr Blenkinsop sighed, sat down 
 beside her and started whispering in her ear.  A few minutes 
 later, he was describing to a confused Christopher how he had 
 fallen asleep during the History coaching.
 
 If you had still been watching Mr Blenkinsop's house later that 
 same day, you would have seen Christopher come out of the front 
 door, wave goodbye to Mr Blenkinsop and climB back onto his 
 bicycle.  He felt good; it was a warm summers day, he was due to 
 meet some of his mates at the mall, and Mr Blenkinsop had 
 promised to give him some more coachingonto hollowing weekend.  
 You might even have seen Christopher stop smiling as he cycled 
 away, and then, if you listened carefully enough, have heard a
 small sweet and sinfully seductive voice laughing evilly.
 
FIN