Prelude. I was happily married and still am, but things have changed; or should I say that things have been changed - I have been changed. I was or rather am still wed to Anika, a rather dominating Polish lesbian, who married me for reasons of her own that are still a mystery to me. I’m not the man that I was…Oh, this is so confusing I’d better start at the beginning but I’ll change names and places otherwise Lakshmi will get all upset and try to come up with a new way to humiliate me, although said humiliations have a habit of back-firing. That said, names and places, though not personalities, have been changed to protect guilty and innocent alike. “Lakshmi?” I here you ask. “Who the hell is Lakshmi?” Well, she’s Dr Lakshmi Gupta, the main source of all of the misfortunes that have befallen me over the past few months. Dr Gupta is not a woman to trifle with or even slightly inconvenience. She is formidable, sadistic and vicious which is putting it mildly. She is also a Doctor of Medicine with a bedside manner that is unique, or possibly totally lacking. Actually I rather suspect that she could have given Dr Josef Mengele a run for his money. I had always been led to believe that Indian women are quiet, docile and submissive creatures who were content to stay in the background and attend to their husband’s every need. Who ever put that daft idea into my head had obviously never met Lakshmi Gupta who is also known as “The Ball-Breaker” although I didn’t discover this little gem of information until it was too late. Okay, life was simple and I was more or less in control. I graduated from college and found employment as an IT consultant and trouble shooter. If an organization was having trouble with a rebellious computer system they would call me in and I would sort things out for a fee. It was profitable and interesting work that kept the little grey cells exercised. I was quite not the best in my field but I was known for being thorough and so was rarely out of work. Being a consultant meant that I could be working anywhere in Europe and for varying lengths of time. This suited me and I could even afford to be picky about the jobs that I accepted. The last one that I undertook was one of the easiest: a plastics factory in Holland was having trouble with software incomparability. I was booked in for a week but had the problem cracked inside of four days: I wrote and complied a couple of patches, nothing complicated, but it did mean that I was heading back to the family home a couple of days early. Anika is a good ten years older than I am and has a daughter from a previous relationship that she never talks about. I loved my wife dearly and still do, even though everything has changed. We met at one of the few parties that I went too, a University friend was getting married and was celebrating his loss of freedom… Someone introduced me to Anika and things progressed rapidly. I won’t say that it was love at first sight, but it was certainly lust that drove me onwards. She was about five foot five with long, ash blonde hair and ice-blue eyes and I really wanted her in my life. She had a dry sense of humour and tended to see the funny side of just about everything that happened which was the second thing that I noticed about her… The first being her tits. I was a man. Right? And a pair of forty-fours nestling in an ‘E’ cup bra certainly caught my attention. “You like?” Was her only comment and was delivered with a slight Polish accent. We more or less hit it off straight away and were married within six months although I got to know her mesmerising mammaries much earlier. It was a quiet wedding at the local registry office: I had no real religious beliefs and Anika was an excommunicated Roman Catholic. “I was doing things with nun that parish priest did not approve of. Fuck the lot of them!” Was how she put it. We settled down to married life, or at least she did: I was due in Slovenia three days after the wedding. “Don’t worry, I make my own entertainment!” She said dryly; although I didn’t realise just what she meant: I thought that she was planning to relieve her urges with a spot of masturbation so I didn’t give it much thought. Besides I was preoccupied with the symptoms that they had emailed me from Slovenia and it promised to be an interesting job. Well a couple of years slipped by and Anika’s Beauty Parlour really took off giving us a reliable second income. Oh, don’t get me wrong; consultancy work pays well but it does not provide a steady income. It is patchy while the Beauty Parlour showed a steady growth. I visited the premises a couple of times when I installed the computer system and I must say that I was really impressed. The second time was when I updated said system after Anika took over the Ladies Hair Salon that was next door. She wasted no time in integrating the two businesses and needed a state of the art IT system to cope with the expansion needless to say I delivered on that. It was at this time that I met Dr Gupta for the first time, she was in for a manicure and wasted no time in booking me to give her practice’s computer system the once over. As she was a friend of my wife’s, I couldn’t very well refuse. Then life dealt me what the Yanks call “a curve ball” and things changed without warning. “Victor, can you recommend good University for Melinda?” Anika asked, just before I set off on the final trip to Holland. “She eighteen and is going to be IT lady, just like you.” I did a double take as I unravelled the sentence. “Er, sure, but can it wait until I get back?” I asked. “Only I don’t want to miss my flight and traffic can be pretty bad this time in the day.” She shrugged which caused her breasts to jiggle invitingly. “Sure, no problem: see you soon.” …and that was that. Day One: Thursday. As I said earlier the Dutch job was easier than I thought it was going be and so I was on my way home Thursday afternoon instead of Saturday night. All being well I could take a well earned break before the next call-out. It was about four in the afternoon when I pushed open the front door and walked into our Cotswold home. The house is medium sized and fairly isolated which meant that we didn’t have any close neighbours to upset. The weather was sunny which accounted for my good mood, well that and the five figure pay-cheque! There was a strange car parked on the drive which puzzled me while I settled the taxi fare. Who did I know who drove a rather large Mercedes-Benz? Ah yes, it dawned on me when I noticed the 'Doctor on Call’ lying on the dashboard, Lakshmi Gupta! Who else? The house was quiet as I dropped my travel bags in the hall and headed for the kitchen to brew some coffee. Then I settled down to drink it in what had once been the kitchen of a farmhouse, although we had spent a small fortune up-dating it along with the rest of the sprawling dwelling. I put the mug down after a couple of mouthfuls and began to look through the best part of a week’s post. Suddenly I heard a quiet 'yelp’, which surprised me as we didn’t have any pets. The 'yelp’ became a 'moan’ that rapidly turned into a 'grunt’. I dropped the post and realised that the background sound effects had been going on for a good few minutes although they hadn’t broken through my reverie. What the hell was going on? The 'yelps’, 'moans’ and 'grunts’ continued and became punctuated by a rhythmic 'slapping’ sound. I listened and was able to work out that they were coming from the general direction of our sun lounge. For some reason I thought of Melinda. Had she brought a boy home? I knew that Anika was strict about this, even though her daughter was by now over eighteen. “You are not going to throw life away on some spotty moron!” Anika had almost shouted when the girl, at fifteen, had brought her first boyfriend home to 'meet the family’. Well he was exceptionally spotty and seemed not to understand that it was him that my wife was calling a moron: which thinking about it, proved that he deserved the title. After that Melinda had not paraded anything similar in front of us, this kept Anika happy and reduced the need for air fresheners. Why do teenaged lads think that a liberal spraying of deodorant removes the need for a regular monthly shower? Deodorant plus stale tobacco smoke plus body odour equals essence of sixteen year-old boy! It has always puzzled me as to why young girls find the stench attractive. Me? I was a geek when I was that age so that particular problem avoided me. Back to the animal sounds. If Melinda was rutting with a boy, there would be hell to pay when Anika got home from work so I thought that the best thing that I could do was to break up what ever was going on and help my step-daughter to hide the traces. In other words, anything for a quiet life! However, there were two flaws in my reasoning… Two minor flaws that I neglected to take into account when I drew my conclusions regarding said strange noises. One: Lakshmi Gupta was around somewhere: I had forgotten the good doctor in my haste to commit coitus interuptus. Two: Anika was also around somewhere as the Salon does not open on a Thursday. If I hadn’t panicked I would have avoided a great deal of grief. I was right regarding the sun lounge: the assorted yelps, moans, grunts and meaty slaps got louder as I got closer. Although magically they ceased abruptly when I threw the door open, marched in and demanded. “What the hell is going on?” I stopped dead: nothing could have prepared me for the tableaux that I stumbled across. Melinda was there alright, slumped back in one of the basket chairs, her summer skirt hiked up and her lady-parts on full display, or rather NOT on display. Anika was there also, only she was on all-fours and stark naked with her face buried in her daughter’s crotch. Finally Lakshmi was there to complete the scene, which admittedly I would only expect to see in a porn film and not my sun lounge. She was grasping Anika around the waist and was in the process of hammering her doggy-fashion. I stared at them, probably doing a fair impression of a goldfish in the process. Melinda looked panic-stricken, Anika pulled back and glared at me, her mouth shiny with her daughter’s juices, while Lakshmi took it upon herself to answer for the three of them. “I’m fucking your wife; what the hell does it look I’m doing?” Gently the good doctor slipped her strap-on out of my wife’s pussy and stood up. I made a silly whining noise as she strode purposefully towards me, her bright blue, seven inch strap-on bouncing merrily as she did so. I’ll say this for Lakshmi Gupta, she certainly knows how to take decisive action as I found out when she grabbed hold of my shoulders and brought her knee up as hard as she possibly could. Stars exploded. Lots and lots of very painful golden stars. The last thing that I remember, other than the sea of excruciating pain, was a high-pitched shriek as I sank down to my knees and sobbed. Hands grabbed me, steadied me, helped me move. I think that I must have blacked out because the next thing that I remember was being tied to a reclining chair in my own sun lounge and being surrounded by three naked or semi naked women. I sat there, my lightly used wedding tackle throbbing with the force and intensity of a steam hammer: each throb producing another star-burst of intense pain. I was still moaning: I know this because the kind and merciful doctor ordered me to. “Shut the fuck up!” Eyes streaming, I did my best to comply. “Oh, Victor, you are not supposed to get back for another two days. What’s the matter? Holland too boring for you? Now stop being baby and let Dr Gupta examine you, there’s good boy!” Anika chided. Lakshmi Gupta gave a derisory snort as she poked the centre of my agony with her finger. “You want me to fiddle with his willy? Oh alright I suppose that I’d better check that there’s no real damage.” Then while my dear wife and her daughter both looked on, Lakshmi did just that… I guessed that this had been their intention all along as my legs were tied to opposite sides of the chair to give access to the injured regions while my torso and arms were secured to the chair back and arms with several turns of thick cord. No doubt to stop me struggling and injuring myself further. First she undid my belt buckle and gave a tug to remove it completely before holding out a hand and demanding: “Scissors!” Then, while I slumped there helplessly, Melinda scurried off to find a pair. And what she returned with gave new meaning to the word: they were a pair or tailoring shears out of my wife’s work-basket. I’m not exaggerating but the blades were the best part of eight inches long. I didn’t like the lopsided grin that appeared on Lakshmi’s face as she examined them before holding them in front of my nose and menacingly snipping the air. “I advise you to keep very still, you wouldn’t want me to cut the wrong thing off, would you?” She purred. She was none too gentle as she began to cut my trousers away, slicing down the leg seems and then across just above the ropes. My underpants followed - a couple of quick cuts down the outside legs followed by a pain-inducing tug and they were gone completely. Thankfully she handed the shears back before proceeding with the examination of my painfully throbbing and fully exposed anatomy. Firstly she peered at it, her expression a mixture of contempt and disgust, then she gingerly prodded it with her finger which caused me to wince. Finally she gave a derisive laugh. “All that fuss over such a little thing!” Then she grabbed hold of my penis and tried to pick me up with it or at least that was what it felt like. “Melinda, sweety, please go and get me a bag of frozen peas.” My step daughter trotted off and then trotted back a few minutes later carrying a large packet of Captain Birdseye’s finest product which Lakshmi promptly dropped onto my injured member. Then leaving me there the three of them left to make a pot of tea. I must say that I was grateful for those peas: the relief that they provided was without measure. And when the women returned, fully dressed, half an hour later, I was well on the road to recovery. I can safely say that I will never look at a packet of frozen peas again without getting a feeling of intense relief! “I’m okay now.” I announced fully expecting the ropes to be removed. After all, they were just there to stop me hurting myself any further - Right? Wrong! They were there to stop me making a run for it when the examination resumed. Lakshmi fastened her hair back into a shiny black ponytail and then tossed the bag of peas to one side. “Disgusting, isn’t it?” She remarked casually which caused Melinda to giggle. Melinda was still part of the proceedings and this realisation caused an intense wave of embarrassment to wash over me. “Why are you blushing? Are you ashamed of it too?” Lakshmi enquired as she grabbed hold of my penis and fiddled with it. “I’d feel ashamed if I had to go through life with one of these silly things.” Next she grabbed hold of my scrotum and began to feel for damage being none too gentle in the process. She sniffed her fingers and grimaced. “Smells worse than it looks!” Then she turned to Anika. “This can’t be why you married him?” My wife shrugged. “Seemed like a good idea at the time: he’s not without redeeming features.” Lakshmi laughed again and lifted my penis up by its foreskin. “Obviously this isn’t one of them! It can’t be a cock because its way too small.” Melinda found this to be very funny, or may be she was laughing to hide her own embarrassment. I was past caring and just wanted to crawl away and hide somewhere. Lakshmi was far from finished and grabbed my organ around its still soft shaft and began to try to jerk me off, admittedly without much success: not with my step-daughter watching anyway. “How big is it when it’s, er, angry?” “Just under fourteen centimetres!” My wife chuckled entering into the spirit of things. “Do you mind?” I suddenly shouted. “No! And neither does your wife.” Lakshmi retorted. “This silly little thing gave the three of us something to laugh about over tea, so I suppose it does have its uses although I doubt if fucking is one of them.” Then she tried but failed to give me a reassuring smile. “Don’t you worry, little chap, we’ve really got your best interests at heart.” Suddenly things became serious, which was a pleasant change from the humiliating remarks that had been hurled at me. “Please let me go.” I pleaded. “Sorry, but that’s quite out of the question.” Dr Gupta said crisply. “If you tell anybody about what we were getting up to, then I’ll be struck off. It’s a no-no for a doctor to make her patient into her mistress.” I began to panic. “I won’t tell anyone: honest! I handle confidential information all of the time.” Lakshmi Gupta ignored me. Instead of answering she tore a piece of duct tape off the roll that she had brought in out of the kitchen and slapped it over my mouth. Then she turned towards my wife. “We are agreed?” Anika hesitated. The doctor put her arm around my wife’s shoulders and gave her a hug. “It’ll make him a lot more docile, easy to handle and a lot less smelly. He’ll also be a lot happier afterwards.” Anika smiled. “Oh yes, it needs doing anyway.” The Doctor turned towards my step-daughter. “Melinda?” “Yes, agreed! I’ve never liked him! He always seems to be undressing me with his eyes.” She stated, her voice heavy with disgust. Lakshmi nodded. “That’s a man-thing: they all do that, dear. Disgusting little reptiles aren’t they?” Thoroughly confused by the exchange, I thought for a moment that they were intending to kill me. I was an embarrassment and was clearly no longer welcome in my own family. I tried to shout but the makeshift gag muffled my cries and caused the three of them to chuckle. Next thing that I remember was the reappearance of the tailoring shears which snipped and sliced away more of my clothing until the only bits left were those that were protected by the ropes. This done and the intimate examination resumed with Lakshmi prodding and peering at just about everything that she could see. My face was examined closely and my profile was checked. “Hmm. There’s a lot less work needed than I thought: it shouldn’t be to difficult. I can call in a few favours for the bits that I’m not equipped to tackle: full GRS would be more complicated, but we don’t need to go that far, do we?” Gender Resignment Surgery? I heaved a sigh of relief. Murder was not on the agenda. Hold on! GRS? I clearly had something new to panic about. There was a brief interlude while Melinda was sent off to get the Doctor’s bag out of her car. Evidently Lakshmi still made house calls although for some reason I did not find this information to be particularly reassuring or comforting. She opened the bag and peered in at the contents. “I believe that we can make a start,” she turned towards Anika, “you know what needs doing?” My wife grinned while she nodded then bent over me and began to fondle my prick. She worked gently but firmly and soon encouraged it to stiffen. She smiled at me. “Don’t take any notice of her,” she said soothingly, “I like the feel of it inside me.” She began to slide her hand up the shaft taking the fairly loose skin with it. “This much more pleasurable than the alternative. Lakshmi wanted me to use the vacuum cleaner hose. You wouldn’t want me to do it that way would you?” Her words were kind and soothing and must have gone some way towards smoothing my ruffled feathers because I felt myself becoming stiff. I hadn’t intended too and hadn’t thought that I would be able too while the others were watching, but my wife’s gentle nature and even gentler words worked their magic. “See?” She cooed as she began to slide her hand up and down. “I knew that you wouldn’t let me down. You like this, don’t you? Boys always like it when girls take them in hand because we know how to please you.” Up and down and up and down she pumped my manhood which showed its appreciation by swelling and hardening more than it usually did. “This is much better than me straddling you, isn’t it, darling? I can be firm and gentle and can get up to a decent speed this way, can’t I?” She smiled and I tried to answer but my words of appreciation were muffled by the gag. “Hush, my sweet darling boy, hush and enjoy.” She cooed as she began to role my organ between her fingers and thumb. A minute or so more of her insistent pumping, which she timed to perfection, and I was ready. She took my glans into her mouth and began to suck while rubbing her tongue against the sensitive spot that is just underneath. I exploded there and then, shooting my load into her warm and willing mouth. I naturally expected her to stop there and then… She didn’t, she just swallowed it all and continued. Licking and sucking and sliding her gorgeous maroon lips up and down my softening member. She was gentle, but insistent and by the time that she was through with me I felt as if I was floating on air. She managed to bring me off three times in quick succession which was more than I thought possible… Her gentle, encouraging words really had worked their magic although the last load was meagre. I was happy, I was relaxed I really was floating but the midst of a warm post-coital glow. “Wow!” Melinda exclaimed, clearly impressed by her Mother’s gentle skills. I doubt if she had ever seen a man being masturbated before that day and it had clearly moved her. Anika straightened up and grabbed my penis once again, she worked it and managed to keep some semblance of an erection. Then she began to masturbate me again only this time there was no semblance or pretence of gentleness. She pounded me: pulling up and pushing down as hard and as fast as she could manage. On and on she went working and battering at my now-abused genitals with a violence and determination that I had never thought possible. Up! - Down! - Up! - Down! - Up! - Down! - Pull! - Push! - Pull! - Push! - Pump! - Pump! - Pump! - Slam! I groaned into my gag but it did no good. I tried to plead with her to stop, but no words came out - then she looked into my eyes. Her expression was now hard and triumphant as she carried on and on and on tirelessly. My body began to buck as one last pathetic tortured orgasm ran through it and a tiny sticky trickle emerged from the eye at the end of my rapidly softening cock. Anika’s expression changed from one of triumph to one of loathing. “Pathetic!” She spat then spun around and grabbed her shocked daughter kissing the surprised child roughly and dominantly. When the kiss finally ended I heard her mutter. “We’re doing this so that you’ll never have too put up his unwanted leering!” Oh my tortured genitals! They ached after what must have been over an hour’s abuse. It was a deep burning ache totally unlike the pain that Lakshmi’s knee had delivered. Different, but in its own way, equally unpleasant none the less. Without warning Dr Gupta jabbed a needle into my thigh and was none too gentle as she forced some drug or other into my unresisting leg. “Very good, you’ve drained him, no doubt about that. Now if you’ll both assist me I’ll make a start as soon as the tranquillizer begins to work…” The girls applied antiseptic gel to their hands while Anika worked the same stuff into my abused genitals. This was followed by shaving soap and the application of a razor. “I think I’ll keep him like that permanently.” My wife said gently. “What? Tied up?” Melinda enquired. “No, silly, smooth and hairless like little boy. He looks kind of cute, doesn’t he?” Anika cooed. As the tranquillizer kicked in, Lakshmi went to work with her needles again only this time I received several doses of local anaesthetic. “This will stop him jumping around when I start cutting.” She said by way of reassurance. For a doctor, her bedside manner really stank. Then a minute or two later, with the chair flattened into a bed and a couple more turns of rope applied around my belly, the good doctor began to snip and slice. I’ll give her her due, she worked quickly… Really quickly, and clearly knew her stuff. Although perhaps one of the flourishes was unnecessary. Did she really have to show me the two fleshy spheroids that she had extracted from my scrotum and ask me if I’d ever seen them before? Within fifteen minutes she was stitching me up and painting the wound with antiseptic. “Try to keep your hands off it until the cuts have healed. I’ll stop by next week and take the stitches out. By then everything will have healed up nicely.” She turned towards Anika. “Keep him drained but be gentle. Twice a day should be enough, may be Melinda can take a turn? After all she’ll be looking after Victoria while you are at work.” She looked up at the bemused eighteen year old. “It’ll be okay to use your mouth on him… Less chance of bursting the stitches. Oh, don’t worry, I super-glued the incisions together before I put the stitches in. Better safe than sorry!” So here was me I’d gone from man to eunuch in less than an afternoon and had oral sex with my step-daughter to look forward to as the only method of relief that was now available. Needless to say, I shuddered. Then after another couple of injections, female hormones, this time. Dr Lakshmi Gupta departed leaving me to the ministrations of my loving wife and her perverted daughter. Day Two: Friday I woke up in what had until yesterday, been my step-daughter’s bedroom. Said step-daughter had taken my place in the marital king-sized bed from which I had recently been surgically demoted. She was clearly making the most of it if her moans of ecstasy were anything to go by. After the doctor’s departure, the two of them had untied me, removed the gag and helped me up. I was woozy after the massive dose of tranquillizer that Dr Frankenstein had pumped into me so was cooperative but more than a little unsteady. Gently, Anika had concealed my naked embarrassment by wrapping me in a girly-pink towelling bathrobe being careful that nothing could irritate my now empty scrotum. “Oh my poor baby. I take better care of you from now on. Still it is own fault! Fancy threatening Dr Lakshmi like that. What were you thinking? This is all for the best, you’ll see! You’ll be beautiful when we’ve finished with you.” She stroked my flat chest and smiled. “You always liked tits now my little girl can have some all of her very own.” Little girl? Victoria? Her own? The finality of it struck me but I was past caring. Tomorrow would bring what tomorrow would bring. That night, for the very first time, I slept in one of Melinda’s night-dresses although without the frilly panties that normally went with it. Anika had decided that they might rub and prevent me from sleeping. Actually, the good doctor had thought of that one and had left me with a supply of sleeping pills. The net result was that I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow. 'Tomorrow’ brought some swelling and a little soreness and very little else so at least I had some small mercies to be thankful for. That and a whole load of unaccustomed pampering! Just after breakfast, when Anika had left for work, Melinda proved just how serious she was when it came to looking after me. No sooner where we on our own than she knelt down between my knees and gently took my flaccid member into her mouth and rolled it with her tongue until it began to stiffen so that she could give me the first of the twice-daily blow-jobs that Dr Gupta had prescribed. She seemed disappointed that I didn’t get really hard but she persisted none the less until I came ratter weakly, squirting a miniscule load into her mouth that she swallowed theatrically. As the day progressed she never let me out of her sight and even accompanied me to the toilet where she insisted that I performed while seated. Everywhere that I went saw her trotting along behind me just like a faithful and enthusiastic puppy. Thinking back, it is obvious that she was trying to set up a working routine. Over coffee, which we took at the large kitchen table, I asked her about this and was rewarded with one of her beaming smiles. Melinda really was a beautiful and confidant young woman: a taller, slimmer version of her mother. And a more considerate one to boot. She had dressed me in some of her older clothes: she obviously wasn’t prepared to share her newer ones with me. We were about the same height and build: I had never been a 'macho’ kind of man with muscles and a confident swagger and never could be now. So here I was dressed in a soft cotton summer skirt and blouse in attractive pastel shades. She had also eased me into a pair of her panties which were slightly loose because I lacked her girl-hips. I was wearing them mainly because she wanted me too and thought that they would stop the skirt rubbing against my operation site. As I slipped into them I couldn’t help but notice how well they conformed to my new contours down below and helped smooth out any remaining man-bulge. I was actually secretly pleased with the results but was a little too embarrassed to say so, Instead, over coffee I asked her about her motives: why was she helping me like this? I received the reward of a warm smile. “Because we can help each other, Vicky. While I help you through a difficult transition and you’ll be able to help me become established as an IT consultant.” I was struck by her sincerity but felt compelled to point out the snags. “That will take about five years, Melinda, you’ll need a good degree and a load of experience before you can hope to become established.” She frowned. “And you’ll become an acceptable shemale over night will you?” I recoiled at her pointed question. Me, a shemale? I hadn’t even considered that option. If Anika intended me to become a shemale, why had she agreed to my castration? Then it struck me… To speed things up, why else? Unless… Unless she hoped that it would make me less aggressive and easier to handle. Melinda broke into my reverie. “I’ll help train you while you help support me into a new career. Besides I’ll have your experience to draw on: you’ll be at the end of my mobile phone day and night… You’ll help me, won’t you?” I nodded. “We’ll help each other: we both need to transition after all, me into femininity and you into employment so it makes sense that we help each other doesn’t it?” Melinda surprised me with her thoughtfulness. She had a clear handle on what was needed so I guess that I let her take the lead. She obviously knew more about being a girl than I did so I it was obvious that I should learn from her. As I was finishing my coffee she leaned over and kissed me on top of my head which was the first time that she had ever shown me any affection. I smiled - it was good to know that I was wanted. The day progressed and after a light lunch, a courier delivered a package from the local pharmacy. Melinda unpacked it in front of me and revealed that it contained a large number of high-dose oestrogen pills. Clearly I didn’t need male hormone blockers as I no longer had anything to produce them: but oestrogen meant that I would undergo HRT! Melinda again took charge and fed me a double dose which I swallowed as she read out the long list of the symptoms that I could reasonably expect. The swollen and sensitive nipples; the re-distribution of body fat from shoulders and belly to hips and, everyone’s favourite: the classic mood swings… Transition… Feminine… Shemale… Yes! I knew that I had a lot to go through as we settled into our routine. Victor would cease to exist and Victoria would take her place in the family only if she could make one. Transition… Feminine… Shemale… I was kept hidden inside the house and only allowed out under supervision so that I didn’t draw attention too myself, although I must admit that the long blonde wig and the padded bra helped me blend in. However, I must admit that the high heels took more mastering than I had thought. Transition… Feminine… Shemale… Friday moved on and my beautiful lady returned after a had day’s pampering (of other people). She greeted me with a warm smile and complimented me on my appearance. Melinda took me in hand, or rather, mouth again and performed her duties against the background of her mother’s encouragement and advice. I must admit that I was still able to achieve some sort of erection, although no doubt the HRT would soon put an end to that. The orgasm, when it arrived, was more intense than this morning’s but was still pathetic when compared with yesterday’s: although I’m not complaining and you wouldn’t deny a girl her little pleasures, would you? Transition… Feminine… Shemale… The day’s routine stretched out into weeks and then months. The only break in the monotony being my Thursday visit to my wife’s beauty parlour where I underwent regular treatment. The first being depilation; hair removal had made major advances but was still unpleasant: the only thing that made it bearable was the knowledge that it was permanent and would not need to be repeated. Anika, assisted by Melinda and occasionally by Lakshmi, worked on me using a variety of techniques: laser, and electrolysis being the main ones. After a fortnight I heaved a sigh of relief when I realised that I would never have to shave again. There was another one after a month because the torture was over and reported to be successful. Body hair? Gone: all that was left was on my head! Transition… Feminine… Shemale… I didn’t want to transition, I didn’t want to become feminine, but what choice did I have? Epilogue: Two Years Later I am seated behind my little desk in the reception area at Anika’s Health and Beauty Salon where I am the receptionist. I am dressed in a tight white satin blouse, which emphasises my expertly enhanced double ’D’ breasts, and a short black skirt that reveals most of my long, shapely and toned legs. Strangely I am proud of my new body and have become almost fanatical about maintaining it. My face is a woman’s face, even without the expertly applied make-up which I now do myself. Dr Gupta was right, apart from a slight re-contouring of my jaw and brow line and cartilage removal from my nose and Adam’s apple I required very little facial feminization. Melinda says that I’m beautiful and I’m certainly not going to argue with her. I can’t wait for my hair to grow long, I currently wear it in a shoulder length bob that is shaped at least once a week. In my job I don’t dare let it get straggly because besides being the receptionist I am the face of my husband’s Salon. That’s right, Anika has revised our roles and I am now her wife. We even sleep together, usually once a month when Melinda is having her period and that is when I can expect to be arse-fucked. Melinda never did go to University to study IT and now works in the Salon alongside her mother and about ten other beauticians and hair stylists: business is growing and expanding. I’m glad that Melinda didn’t leave home: she’s a lot more considerate than my husband and she taught me a great deal of things about being a woman, including the best ways to eat pussy. I extend this service to the clients where it appears on their bill as a “Special Massage”. I am now legally a woman: my birth certificate, marriage certificate and passport have all been amended to record my new status. I still have my rather useless little cock which is no longer prominent enough to be difficult to hide. Anika insists that I wear the briefest of panties which she says serve to remind me of just how insignificant it is. Melinda still sucks it occasionally for me. It may be shrunken but it still has all of its nerve endings so it has Kept its sensitivity. Although Anika and myself are still married and she still fucks me at least a couple of times a month, it is her daughter that receives most of her affection as they are still conducting the same torrid affair that they where two years ago, the one whose discovery led to my castration. Dr Gupta is still a regular presence in our lives and sometimes I have to provide her with a “Special Massage” too. She is still an evil, sadistic bitch and it was her idea to humiliate me by making me use a strap-on to fuck Melinda. It kind of backfired on her as we both orgasmed while she was gleefully watching. My little pinky (Anika’s name for it) might no longer work but Lakshmi had made sure that it was trapped between the base of the strap-on and my pubic bone. The rhythmic pressure from the fucking was enough to eventually make me cum, much to her disgust. Although she never made me fuck that way again, Melinda and I still do occasionally though always when Anika is out! Daft as it sounds I receive more affection now and am more sexually active than I was before I was forcibly neutered so I am not complaining. I was once an insignificant, weedy, shy and geeky man and would have stayed that way if a certain vicious dyke of doctor hadn’t forced me to become a statuesque, beautiful and confident lesbian woman. I intend to thank her thank her sometime… Now that will really spoil her day!
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