Feminized! (Part 1)

I stood in front of the warden's desk, with four other men. I couldn't believe I was here. I looked at the man next to me. He was six feet tall, at least, with a shaven head, a handlebar mustache, and a gold tooth in front. His muscular arms were not hidden by the rolled up sleeves of his garb, and his muscles rippled as he strained against the handcuffs that held his wrists locked behind his back. Brute, he was called. Armed robbery and assault was his cup of tea.

On my other side, was Tony. Short, stout, with slicked down black hair, and beady eyes that looked for profit even in a reformatory. It was easy to see him in a leather jacket, dark glasses, gold chains around his neck, and diamond and ruby rings around his fat fingers. He was a junior boss in the Italian underground, I learnt, with a promotion waiting when he got out.

Me? I was a student, at the Edmund Farrow College of Science. Was. Twenty one years of age, I was in the joint for manslaughter. I won't say I didn't do it, because I did. The trial was speedy, I pleaded guilty, and I was sentenced to twelve years in the reformatory. I hadn't really thought of the consequences when I did bash the man's skull in, but then, I hadn't really thought he would die with a little knock like that. But he did, and I ended up here. It was funny how a seemingly small and almost delicate lad like me could pack in so much power in a single blow.

The warden was talking "...misbehaviour will get you a day, two, a week, a month, who knows, in Solitary. So, I want you on your best behaviour. Am I clear? The food's terrible, the bunks are hard, and the linen smells. This ain't the Plaza Hotel. If you don't like it, you oughta have thought of that before you did whatever it was that bought you a free ticket in here. Now, you'll be shown your cells. Meal times are strict, you miss 'em, you go hungry. Wake up call at six. From ten to two, and four to seven, you can do as you please, all other times you spend in the cell. Understood?"

We were led to the cell block. Tony was in block C with me, and Brute, was in block A. Of the other two, who I didn't know, one was in the same block as me, and the other in block F, where I've heard the worst kind of criminal is kept.

My cell was on the third level. It wasn't a bad place, as prison cells go - I had the lower bunk, a table if I wished to do any writing, a lamp by the bed to read by night. My cellmate was a man called Jose. Thirty seven years, he said he was. Inside for Grand Theft Auto. He had spent three years already, with seven left. He jumped off his bunk when I entered, and introduced himself.

He looked me over a few times, and said "You be careful around here. Take my advice, find a friend, a strong one, who'll keep you safe in exchange for services. That shouldn't be hard for one like you."

"What do you mean, one like me? And safe from what?" I asked.

"Well, you know, some men here been in here long. Too long to have been with a woman. And every man has needs, get what I'm driving at? They don't care who it is. They'll fuck you, with their eyes closed, imagining its Marylin Monroe it's they're fucking. Some of 'em's gentle, the others, well, don't care for your pain. So all I'm saying is hitch on to a gentleman, who can take care of you. See? Shouldn't be too hard for you. Be a dandy,and you'll have them courtin' you."

I was beginning to get an idea of what he was telling me. It was an ugly picture he painted, but a true one. I had read about homosexuality in prisons before, now I was in one, myself, to see things first hand.

"Do... do you have a 'friend'?" I asked him.

He laughed, "Me, no. I don't need one. I'm not so pretty as you. Ugly brutes like me aren't so much in demand. I mind my business, keep out of the way of the powerful inmates, and no one bothers with me."

I was only 5 feet tall, of slight build, with slender arms and legs. My black hair was cut short, and my prison uniform hung on my body, obviously too big for it. My body hadn't realised that it belonged to a male, as a result of which I had little body hair, and I hadn't felt the need to shave my face either. I understood what Jose whas trying to tell me - there would be some inmates who would want me to pleasure them, and if I refused, they might use force. The thought sickened and disgusted me - sickened, when I thought of my future in the prison, and disgusted by the thought of men doing other men.

"Do you... have sex with other boys?" I asked him cautiously.

"Me? Hell no! I like my women, thank you. I got just a few more years to go. I ain't that desperate. I can wait to do my fucking once I'm out," he grinned at me. "You watch out kid, take my advice."

That evening, in the common room, I hung around Tony. He didn't mind me. He was deep in conversation with another man, Swen. Swen, it was known controlled all illegal activities in the prison. The strongest men were in his employ, and nobody dared go against him. If you wanted Playboys, cigarettes, anything from the outside, you went to him, or to one of his agents. They charged you a heavy premium, but this was prison - if you wanted it that bad, you'd better make sure you could pay for it. It was said that even the guards were on his payroll. If you wanted special allowances, late bed timings, to stay out of the cell longer, he could arrange it. Rumor had it that he only entered his cell to sleep, and even his cell wasn't ordinary. He shared it with no one. He had a king size double bed instead of the regular bunks, got the daily newspaper every morning, had his own computer, with an internet connection, and some say he even enjoyed female company. Real women.

"c'mon, sit down kid. Joey, ain't you? In for manslaughter, I hear. Shame, kid, cause I heard you got brains about you. Got family outside?" he asked me, when he noticed me hanging about?

I shook my head. "No. Just a step mother and step sister. Both disowned me, after I was convicted."

"So you're screwed, kid. No college'll take you in, now that you've done time, assuming you did get out. And the jobs you get, don't pay you shit. And no family either. Best stay in here, kid." he said. He sized me up, looking me up and down, with a glint in his eye that I later learned he had when he saw money to be made. "Unless... Never mind."

That had me eager. "Unless what, Mr. Tony? C'mon, you can tell me."

He looked about, and then leaned over close to me, and whispered in my ear. "If we get out, how would you like to work for me?"

I was shocked, and surprised. "Work for you sir? But we'd be convicts on the run! And how would we get out anyway?"

He smiled at me, and said, "Don't worry about getting out. Only be in here a week or two. Work for me, and I'll give you a complete new identity. Nobody'll ever know you. Whaddaya say, kid?"

I thought it only for a second. It sounded great! Out of this hell hole in a week, out with a new identity, a job that paid well, i assumed, simply because it was not going to be legal. "Yes sir, Mr.Tony." And we shook hands, sealing the deal.

True to his word, we escaped after six days. The actual escape was too much of a blur to remember clearly. Tony, Brute, I and two others made a dash for it. Swen had arranged it for us, and the guards had been distracted. As we escaped, I remember spotlights trying to pin us in the darkness, sirens blaring, and even warning shots being fired. We got over the wall, and found a van waiting for us. It took us to a river half an hour away. The men then dumped the van into the river, and we got into a boat that waited for us. Seeing my surprise at dumping the van, Tony told me that the police would be searching for the van for some days, and not really notice the boat. By the time they found the van on the riverbed, or assumed we had hidden it safely, and changed transport, we would have had too much of a headstart for them to catch us. It seemed like a good plan, and it worked. Four days later, we were in Canyon City, which was Tony's family stronghold. The two unknown men had left us, and only Tony, Brute and I were left.

We took refuge in a hotel owned by somebody who owed Tony a great deal of money. Our rooms were in the basement - the employee quarters. Nobody thought to look for us there, and we seemed safe. Tony said we would stay here for a couple of months, by which time the police would have stopped even pretending to search for us. Then we could head to his place, and begin work.

Many times I tried to find out the nature of work he had in mind for me, but he never gave me a concrete answer. Always, he said something to the effect that it wouldn't be anything I couldn't do, or it would be a piece of cake, once I had my new identity. Brute, I knew had been employed by him do be one of his 'Bashers'.

Before a week had gone by, I was frustrated with myself. I had nothing to do, and whiling away my time had turned out to be a greater task than I had imagined. Brute complained about not being able to have any women, and it was as good as being in the joint. Except for the food and booze, which we had in plenty, and good quality stuff too. I grew irritable, and it must have shown, because one evening, when I was watching television, Tony came to my room.

"Kid, you growing too restless. It ain't good. You need to relax kid, take it easy. Enjoy this time, 'cos once we start workin', you won't have no free time," he said.

"I know Tony, but I need to have something to do. I'm sick of watching reruns on TV, and I read the newspaper till I almost know it by heart. The boredom is killing me Tony." I told him.

"Say, I got a friend. Maybe he could help you. He's a hypnotist, maybe he could get you to relax, you know, take things easy," he said.

"How do I know he won't screw up my mind. Hypnosis is deep stuff Tony," I said.

"Trust me. He wouldn't dare do anything I didn't tell him to," Tony assured me.

"Alright Tony, if he can knock me out for a few hours, that'll be so many less hours to kill," I said. Suddenly a thought came to me. "What if he rats on us Tony?"

"He wouldn't dare. See, I know where he lives, I know where his kids go to school. And I still got bad, bad men to do my work." He grinned, and I could feel the immense power that this man commanded.

Sure enough, the next day the hypnotist visited me. He seemed like a nice enough man. He was about five feet ten, fair, balding, with a fringe of white hair crowning his egg shaped head. A white french beard adorned his face, and looking into his bright eyes would mislead you into believing he was at least twenty years younger than his forty five years.

"Ah... So you are my latest subject. Call me Mauresmo. Thats actually my stage name, but you could use that. So... Mr.Rozetti tells me you have a problem. Tell me a bit about yourself." He smilingly asked.

"Um... I am twenty one years old, and well... I am very restless these days. I am bored of my present life." I told him. He had a doctor like manner about him that made me easy with him.

"Bored of your present life? Well... I could help you there. But first things first." He got up and turned all the lights in the room off. Then he put a disk in the DVD player, and a spiral appeared on the TV screen. "I want you to look into the center of the spiral. Follow it. See how it goes nowhere, yet reappears at the center. I want you to pay attention to my voice. The spiral and my voice are the only things that your concious mind is aware of..." That was the last thing I remember him saying.

I had been out for almost an hour and a half. But as gradually came to, I could still hear his voice, "...awaken. Slowly become aware of your surroundings. Feel your fingers, your toes... Breathe deeply, in and out, in and out..."

I opened my eyes, and found myself as I had been, reclining on the easy chair, in fron of the TV, with Mauresmo talking to me, his deep voice booming. I felt really good, relaxed and fresh. It was as if I had just woken up after a good night's sleep. And I was hard. Like the morning hard-on.

The lights came back on, and Mauresmo smiled at me. "I brought a few disks for you to watch whenever you feel bored. You'll find them quite soothing, and interesting, I'm sure." He bowed, and took his leave. I looked at the disks, they were simply labelled 'ONE' or 'TWO' all the way till 'SEVEN'. Wow! I thought, seven disks to soothe and relax me. This nice man sure was taking a lot of trouble on my account.

Meanwhile, in Tony's room, Mauresmo was giving Tony a report.

"I've planted the seeds in the boy's head. Everyday, his discontent with his male self will grow more and more. It would help if you had some girl mags around, you know, Cosmo, and stuff. And say, in a month or so, you could give him a girl name. I've programmed him to watch the seven disks over and over agian, in a sort of loop. He will watch the entire set at least once a day. So in three weeks, I think his mind will be suitably conditioned for the next step."

"Whats in the disks?" Tony asked him.

"Well, there's the curse, its there in many of the disks, so he'll be hearing it twice a day, if he follows my regimen. The curse basically creates a dual personality, that of a horny transsexual. His male side will coexist, but eventually his other personality will become the dominant one, controlling his body. So his male mind will simply sit by and watch his slut half be herself. Also in the disks, is programming to make him want hormones. He'll begin to crave it. As his femme side begins to take over, you'll notice him become more and more effeminate, with appropriate mannerisms. The later disks are to program his dreams and thoughts. When he watches porn, he will imagine himself to be the woman getting fucked, and his dreams will be similar. The disks will program his femme side to become whatever you want him to become. Which is when he will be ready for the next step. Which is shaping his tranny side as you like. If that is all, I will see you in a month."

Tony was extremely pleased. He couldn't stop grinning all evening. When I asked him what was up, he merely said that his plan was finally getting on track, and soon I could be of use to him.

I watched the spirals, and listened to the disks quite a lot. I was surprised to see myself spending that much time with them, but I felt good after I had seen them, so I thought, what the hell, lets watch them.

Two weeks went by, and I stumbled upon a stack of Women's World, and Cosmo, and Elle magazines. Women's world was a porno for women, filled with pictures of handsome hunks with enormous dicks. Before the week was out, I had gone through the Cosmos and Elles, when I picked up Women's World. I told myself that it was just because I hadn't anything to do. I flipped throught the pages, and stopped at one which had a hottie hunk on it. He was blond, with close cropped hair, clean shaven face. He was posing completely naked, with his muscles rippling all over his body. I unknowingly licked my lips when I closely examined his body. He was hung like a horse too!

That night I dreamt of the man. I imagined that his name was Hans, and for some strange reason, my name was Dee. I saw myself waiting for him on a double bed, with red silk sheets, naked. My hair had grown till it was past my shoulder, and my chest had a strange swelling. I resembled a woman who had hit puberty late.

Hans came in, and I stood up to greet him. I was in his arms, and we kissed passionately. His hot, humid breath tickled my face, as his tongue probed my mouth. Not to be left behind, I massaged his tongue with mine. I felt his hands reach behind me and cup my ass, lifting them and then releasing them. My arms were around his neck. I took one off, and felt down his front till I made contact with his semi hard penis inside his underpants. I broke off, and knelt before him. I pulled his cock out from his underpants, and stroked it a few times. Then, I puckered my lips, and brushed his cock head against my lips. The dream was so vivid, I felt like I could taste his salty sperm. Then I licked his shaft, from the base to the end. I heard him moan.

Encouraged, I took his balls in my hand and gently massaged them as I moved my tongue across his cock. I felt his cock harden in my hand. I then took his cock in my mouth, and slowly, sensually sucked on it. I kept my grip on his cock firm with my lips, and I flicked my tongue like a serpent over his pee hole, again and again. He put one hand on the back of my head, and began to gently push my head, forcing me to take more and more of his cock into my mouth. My head bobbed back and forth, with increasing tempo, guided by his hand, till I felt his head tickle the back of my throat. I was deep throating him effortlessly! He became more and more forceful, and aroused like him, I also sucked with an animal like intensity. Within minutes, his other hand also cupped the back of my head, and he thrust one last time deep into my mouth, and held my head. I knew he was going to climax. Sure enough, his body bucked, and I felt his warm seed flood my mouth, straight into my throat.

When it was over, he pulled out, and I licked him clean. It was a shame to watch him soften.

"That was good, slut," he said, and I felt a strange pleasure in pleasing him. "Now, I want you to play with your dildo for me," he commanded.

I picked up the purple slender dildo, which had appeared from nowhere, and began to suck on it, while looking deep into his eyes like a horny slut. In and out of my mouth it went. When I felt it was lubricated enough, I held it vertical on the floor, and positioned it under me. Slowly I lowered myself on it, and when it was inside me, I began to ride it, up and down. Again my tempo increased, and I was riding it in an orgasmic frenzy. I felt the world begin to spin, and my head began to feel hot. But the speed with which I was riding the purple plastic tube just kept increasing. I screamed, knowing that I was close to orgasming, and I came...

Just as I orgasmed in my dream, I woke up. I felt beneath the sheets, and felt the warm and sticky goo that I had just released. I had orgasmed in reality too! I remembered the dream clearly, and felt sick that I had cum to the thought of pleasing a man. But a feminine voice in my head said, "Well done Dee, you really are a magnificent slut!"

I turned and tried to sleep. But everytime I shut my eyes, a picture of me, pleasing a man would come up. I felt like crying. Why, why was I dreaming such things? I wept into the pillow. That was also not normal for me. I never wept since I was a small child, and now I was crying into the pillow like a sissy. And the voice in my head said "Darling Dee, cry all you want. That is what sissies do. It's OK darling..."

After much weeping, and replaying the dream in my head, and the voice mocking me, comforting me, and calling me a sissy, a slut, calling me Dee, I was too exhausted to stay awake, and I slept.