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Becoming Her Black Widow Spider

by azumi

Becoming Her Black Widow Spider


I stood in front of her desk as she sat behind it and looked at me in a way that I thought was a bit off. I wondered if I had done something wrong and that bothered me a lot as I always wanted to please her.

“It might be a good idea if you sat down”, she said.

A little nervously, I did as I was told, carefully pulling my skirt under me as I lowered myself into the armchair behind me.

She then said some words which made no sense, but all the memories of my life up to that time exploded into my head. I don’t suppose you ever had that happen to you. Believe me, you don’t want to. My head whirled for what seemed like forever but was probably only about twenty minutes while I struggled to put things together and stay sane while I did it. The main problem, apart from sheer volume, is that you remember everything as though it had happened today. Imagine an ultra fast forward on a video player with split screen a hundred ways and all the images talking at once and you might get close.

When my head had stopped spinning and I had put things into some sort of order I sat quietly for a bit before I stood up and walked over to a full-length three-panel mirror standing in a corner of the office. I now knew what to expect, of course, but seeing is believing and I just had to see. Even so,the confirmation was still a shock.

Staring back at me was a Veronica Lake look-alike,updated a little from her 40s-50s image, long wavy blonde hair down to her…my…shoulders, complete with that lock falling over my right eye. Blue eyes, arched brows, a pert nose and luscious crimson lips, slightly parted, completed my heart-shaped face. I was made-up of course, but not overdone. There was not a single trace of the young man who had been the original me. That pitiful wimp was gone, for ever vanished, and, I have to say, unlamented. He had actually disappeared on my first day here and I had been born, although I didn't know it at the time. I was really, really beautiful. They had said they would improve me and they had, even if it wasn't exactly what I thought I had signed on for.

How cruel of them, I thought, to transform me into a woman who I had such a crush on when I was a kid. Of course, they knew everything there was to know about me. The only major difference between me and Veronica in appearance was that I stood seven or eight inches taller than she had been. The reason why she did so many movies with Alan Ladd was because she was the only leading lady of the era who was short enough to wear high heels without dwarfing him.

I took in the rest of me, a royal blue power suit with a deep neckline barely covering a magnificent pair of breasts, leading my eyes down to a small waist which flared into hips appropriate to the woman I now was, trim and shapely nylon-clad legs below the knee-length skirt and white high-heeled pumps below. I really did look just like her and suddenly my nipples hardened with a burst of desire. I almost began to pant. I wanted to throw myself to the floor and ravage me. They had done a really good job on me.

Before I succumbed to my desire I turned to the white-coated woman.

“Why?” I asked, in a husky contralto. “Why did you make me into a woman? Surely you could have got this package using a real woman.”

“Actually, Mr. Smith, we couldn’t. Women are just not as susceptible as men to the training we wished to instill. They are nowhere near as amenable to hypnotic suggestion as males and although we need a woman for the work we have trained you for we discovered that they were nowhere to be found. You were our answer.”

“Dr. Wilson, even though you seem to have restored my memories of the time that I’ve been here and before, I still have no idea what you trained me for. You’ve made me into a girl...no, a woman... and I remember HOW you did it but I’ve no idea WHY.”

“Mr. Smith. Your training is finished. Here is a cheque for seventy-five thousand dollars and you can walk away from here. You have fulfilled the contract you signed on for. We will throw in all your clothes as a bonus, but if you wish to continue an association with us you will have to sign a new contract.”

I took the cheque and studied it.

“Much good this will do me. It’s made out to John Smith. I certainly don’t look like a John Smith now, do I? How am I supposed to bank it?”

“I’m afraid that’s your problem. You cannot deny that our agreement was and is with John Smith. A DNA test will prove that you are he.”

“I never imagined you would turn me into a girl. I may be one physically but I don’t feel like one. When I look in the mirror I want to make love to myself.”

“I’m sorry. Let me fix that little problem,” and she said some more nonsense words.

Instantly, I felt overwhelmingly female and feminine, just as I had for the previous three years. I no longer felt like grabbing my breasts and sucking my nipples or kissing those oh-so-kissable lips. I wanted someone else to do that, preferably a good-looking man or my darling Mindy. Instead I was conscious of my appearance and I hoped I was appropriately dressed and that everything matched and was hanging straight. When I had looked at myself previously I had been totally presentable, so I tried to stop myself from going over to the mirror again and primping. At first I merely brushed that errant lock of hair away from my eye, tucking it behind my ear, but then I lost the inner struggle and moved across the office to look at myself again. I couldn't stop my hand from going to my cheek and caressing my face. I did look so nice and I knew it. I tossed my head a little and admired my shimmery dangling earrings as they brushed against my neck and the thin gold chain with a diamante pendant which nestled neatly in my cleavage.

“How did you do that? You messed with my mind.”

"Mr. Smith, I told you how susceptible to hypnotic conditioning you are, and you know we’ve been “messing with your mind” for the last three years. You signed on for it. I just demonstrated to you how good my control is. Would you like me to show you more?”

“No! And would you stop calling me Mr. Smith?”

“What would you like me to call you?”

“Joanne, just as you have for the last three years.”

“Very well. May I suggest that if you don’t mind spending one more night with us that you review what has happened to you during your time here and that tomorrow we either discuss your future with us or you take your cheque and go. If you decide to go I promise we will change the name on the cheque to Joanne Smith.”

“What happens if I decide I might want to stay?”

To be honest I wanted to. This was home, after all.

“Obviously there are things we haven’t told you. Tomorrow we will tell you everything. If after hearing what we have to say you still don’t want to remain with us, then we can remove those things from your mind and you will be free to leave. Is that acceptable?”

I nodded and turned to leave the office. I could not stop myself from inspecting myself in the mirror again and giving my hair a reassuring pat, brushing that lock away from my face again before I went up to the room I had occupied for so long. I didn’t....couldn't.... believe she would just let me go after telling me the rest of the story. If that was true why didn’t she just tell me today and then wipe the memories? However, it didn’t seem smart to air that thought right then.

I settled into the armchair in my room and began to put my thoughts in order, kicking off my shoes to be more comfortable and tucking my legs up underneath me. I lit a cigarette to help me think, inspecting my carmine nails as I held it delicately between two fingers. At that moment I was so pleased I was me.

My job had been outsourced to India or Bangladesh or Vietnam or somewhere like that where programmers cost one tenth of what I did and as a result I was desperately searching for work. Weeks went by without a sniff of an opportunity requiring my expertise or experience, such as it was at my age.

Presumably all the other IT firms were doing the same thing in order to stay competitive and nothing was helped by those Wall Street wankers who had destroyed many of the businesses which might have provided me with a job.

Globalization may be a good thing in the abstract but, believe me, it doesn’t feel like it when you are one of its victims. Well, I had to pay the rent and even eat if possible so I started to widen my search to include just about everything except for a job at McDonalds, and I even gave that the odd stray thought.

Although the media kept on trumpeting about skill shortages I went to interview after interview but never got asked back for a second one. I was starting to realize that being a geek was not enough to get me a position. As I got ever more desperate I sold my car to provide a little more cash and save on gas and running costs. I’m not sure that was a smart idea as I seemed to have swapped it for shoe leather and the inconvenience of public transport.

I had about enough left for one more month’s rent without eating when I was surfing and saw the following ad:


Participants required for a study in experimental investigation into the efficacy of hypno-therapeutic techniques in behavioural modification and learning and teaching techniques. Opportunities for the assimilation of advanced educational skills and training for manual dexterity. Physical improvements will almost certainly be a benefit of this course.

Applicants must be of voting age and MUST be prepared to live in controlled clinical conditions for three years. The experiments are designed to establish whether hypno-therapy is a valuable tool in the treatment of some gender-related problems and/or the acceleration of educational processes now taught through conventional training schemes by traditional methods.

Conditions will include full board, accommodation and appropriate clothing. Commitment to the whole of the program is a prerequisite and a contract to this effect will be signed by both parties on engagement and will be enforced.

WARNING: If you are not prepared to complete the courses please do not apply.

Salary $25000 per annum.

Genuine applicants only should send their CV to:

Box 7788
New York, NY

Attention: Dr. D. Wilson.

Or email to: inobeather?@?nyny.com

OK, it sounded almost threatening in a way but offered an opportunity that I hadn’t seen for ages. Wow! I thought if I could get into this program I would be taken care of for three years in basic living needs, learn some new skills and come out with the best part of $75000 to help me start up again afterwards. Some parts sounded a bit vague but surely they would explain everything at the interview. Besides, I couldn’t afford to pass it up.

For me, the prospect of three years employment looked great after all those months of misery, so I quickly sent off my CV and anxiously waited for a reply. The next day I received an emailed questionnaire which seemed to mainly focus on education and personal background, which I completed without delay.

A week later, with bated breath, I opened an envelope inviting me for an interview at the Institute’s establishment in upstate New York and enclosing plane and train tickets to get me there and back, with details of how to find it and instructions for contacts on arrival, all very professional. They advised me to bring sufficient clothing for an overnight stay as the interviews could be extensive if I looked suitable.

I can’t say how relieved and excited I was. The prospect of an interview…with somebody actually paying my expenses…..woohoo! Naturally I was also nervous, on tenterhooks and chewing my nails. I really wanted this job and I didn’t even know how to prepare for it. I worried about it all week.

So, on the appointed day I travelled to a small town about one hundred and fifty miles from New York City. I was further impressed that the tickets they had sent were to schedules that fitted my travelling needs, allowing me ample time for changing transport modes. I followed the directions I had been given once I had disembarked at the town’s railway station, finally arriving at a pleasant and opulent three-storey mansion, probably a hundred years old.

The ivy-covered place looked as though it might contain twenty or more bedrooms and had spacious grounds with a number of relatively smaller buildings visible in a park-like setting, the whole complex enclosed by high, ivy-covered stone walls. I was impressed. It looked substantial, allaying my residual fears that this might be some kind of scam.

I got out of the cab I had hired at the train station and gave the driver the voucher I had been sent while he unloaded my small case. I didn’t have to ring the doorbell on the massive oak door as it was opened by a young lady in a white coat with a welcoming smile.

“Good afternoon,” I said. “My name is John Smith, and I’m here for an interview for the research jobs.”

Her smile seemed to get wider. “Oh, yes, Mr. Smith. We’ve been expecting you. Please come in and I’ll let Dr. Wilson know you’re here. Let me show you to the waiting room. Just take a seat and I’ll go and tell her. My name is Maria by the way. Can I get you a drink while you wait?”

“Yes thanks, Maria. A Coke would be fine.”

She smiled again and left me in what looked like a standard doctor’s waiting room, clean and neat with IKEA furniture and out-of-date National Geographics and Elles. I had hardly sat down when the girl came back with my Coke and assured me the doctor would only be a couple of minutes. I sipped the drink nervously and gazed almost unseeing at a magazine, I have no idea which one.

A few minutes later a tall, thin, quite attractive, grey-haired woman of about fifty bustled into the room.

“Mr. Smith, so glad you made it. I expect you’re wondering what we have in store for you. Well, just relax. I’m Diane Wilson and I’m in charge of our program here. We’re going to give you a number of tests, but none of them are anything to be scared of. We’ve done most of your background stuff. We’ll give you some more intelligence and aptitude tests, and a physical, but the most important ones are to test your receptiveness to hypnotic techniques and all you have to do for that is sit on a couch.

“Are you ready to start. I’ll just check a few things first. Let’s see, you’re 22, single, male of course, currently unemployed, both parents deceased...what a shame....no other close relatives?”

I shook my head. All of my grandparents were dead too and I was an only child.

“OK. Are you ready to start? I’ll give you the IQ and aptitude tests and leave you here to complete them. There’s no set time limit so when you’re done press this buzzer and we’ll come and get you for the next set.”

So saying, she swept out, leaving me with what looked like half a dozen exam papers. I got stuck into them and she was quite right. They didn’t appear to be very hard. Mind you, I’m no dummy. It took me roughly an hour to complete them and I made myself check the answers before pressing that buzzer. This was important. I wanted this job.

Dr. Wilson came back within a minute, took the papers which I gave her and sat down opposite me. She checked them quite thoroughly and then gave me a surprisingly warm smile.

“Excellent, Mr. Smith. I feel justified in saying you aced them all. Now, do you feel up to taking the physical or would you like a break?”

“No. Let’s get it all over with, if you don’t mind?”

“Good. I hoped you’d say that, but you realize you’re going to have to stay the night anyway? There are no more trains back to New York until the morning.”

“That’s all right. You did warn me and I came prepared.”

“Fine. Then come with me and we’ll start. Leave your bag there and I’ll get someone to take care of it.”

She led me out of the room and along a corridor to an office with lots of high-tech screens all around the walls, a huge desk which I assumed was hers and a psychiatrist’s couch and adjacent armchair. She handed me one of those backless hospital gowns and pointed me to a curtained-off corner with an examination table.

“Strip off, please, Mr. Smith, and we’ll see what kind of shape you’re in.”

I did as she told me and drew the curtain while I took off my clothes, opening it again when I finished.

“OK, jump up on the table,” and she started to do all the usual doctor things with stethoscopes, etcetera, took my blood pressure and stuck her gloved finger up my bum. I’m sure you know the routine.

She finished in about half an hour.

“Basically you’re fit, but you haven’t been eating like you should. You’re underweight and lacking in vitamins and muscle tone. Don’t worry. Our program can fix that. Do you mind if I give you a couple of injections as a precautionary measure?”

I shook my head and she prepared a syringe, asked me to turn over and gave me two injections in my buttocks, quickly disinfecting the punctures afterwards.

“Right, Mr. Smith. That’s all done. Don’t bother to put your clothes on right now. We’ll go straight to the receptivity test. Lie down on the couch and make yourself comfortable. When I start that wheel spinning I want you to watch it and listen to my voice.”


She pressed a button and a wheel with black and white radial-shaped sections on it started to turn, I watched it and it seemed to draw my focus to the centre as it spun. I vaguely heard her talking.

“Just relax......Just relax. Sleep now......Sleep now.”

Next thing I knew I awoke from a deep refreshing sleep, even though I reckoned I had only closed my eyes for a couple of minutes. It took me a few seconds to remember where I was and what I was doing there, but then everything came rushing in, bright and happy. I was so glad I was here. My memories of the last few months seemed washed-out and dreamlike. Good riddance. It hadn’t been a fun time.

“We’ll leave it there for today, Mr. Smith. That was really excellent. We will continue in the morning. So far you are doing very, very well indeed. I think you deserve a good dinner and a decent night’s sleep and we’ll do our final tests in the morning. How does that sound?”

I couldn’t restrain myself. “Does that mean I’ve got a job?”

Surprisingly she didn’t laugh. “95% certain, but we have to do the final tests tomorrow. I’ll get someone to take you to your room and you can get freshened up before dinner.”

I felt enormously cheered. The prospect of three years here was heavenly. Then I thought that was an odd way for me to put it, even though I knew I would be very happy.

She must have pressed a button somewhere because Maria and another quite heavily-built woman came in.

“Maria and Anne will take you and show you to your room and fetch you for dinner.”

“What about my clothes?”

“Don’t worry about them. We’ll find you something nice and fresh and clean for dinner. Won’t we, girls?”

I left her office with the two women and they took me up two flights of stairs to a corner room with windows in both exterior walls. It was light and airy with ivory wallpaper and rose-coloured carpets. The curtains were frilly and matched the carpets. A queen-sized bed with a pink coverlet was the main piece of furniture but there was also a plasma-TV set on a stand, a writing-desk and chair and a plush armchair in matching ivory tones. They showed me a walk-in robe leading to a bathroom with a large bath, a shower, a vanity, WC and a bidet. The overall effect was very feminine and made me feel right at home.

“What do you think?” asked Anne. “Is it OK?”

I really loved it.

“It’s absolutely charming,” I said, again surprising myself with the way I expressed it, but somehow not embarrassed.

“That’s great,” said Maria. “Your case is here. We’ll leave you to freshen up. Dinner is at seven thirty. We’ll come and get you.”

As they left I thought I heard Anne say, “It’s taking well.” But it could have been my imagination.

I opened my bag and got out my toiletries, such as they were. When I took them into the bathroom I noticed that there were all sorts of exotic soaps, lotions and gels on the shelves. I was filled with a sudden desire to use these rather than my pedestrian gear. After months of scrimping and scraping a little luxury would do me good.

I went back into the main room and took off the hospital gown. I saw a big fluffy pink dressing gown, just like in a luxury hotel and almost reflexively I put it on. God, it felt good. It seemed to cuddle me and made me feel really girly. I shrugged my shoulders again at my unusual reactions. It must have been those months of deprivation and anxiety.

I went into the bathroom again and decided to have a bath instead of a shower. I could hardly remember the last time I had a bath. The salts smelled so nice and there was even bubble-bath. I giggled and felt totally naughty as I lowered myself into the water and lay there luxuriating in it. After about twenty minutes I thought I’d better get out before the water got cold, and I got wrinkly, dried myself and put the dressing-gown on again.

I had just gone back into the bedroom when there was a knock on the door. “Come in.” I called.

Maria and Anne entered, now no longer dressed in what I thought of as laboratory coats, but smart dresses suitable for evening wear.

“Dinner is in about an hour and a half and we came up to see if you needed any help. My, you smell very nice. You’ve used some of that Chanel lotion, haven’t you? It suits you.”

Somehow, that remark didn’t bother me. It was nice to have my choices confirmed.

“We thought you might like a manicure and pedicure before we go down. We couldn’t help but notice that you don’t seem to have been taking care of yourself as well as you might.”

“That sounds like a lovely idea if we have the time.” I imagined myself sitting and being cared for in a way foreign to me for the last several months.

“Oh, we have the time and Anne and I are both experts. Come and sit down and we’ll give you a treat,” and she patted the armchair, so I did as she told me.

Twenty minutes later I woke up from a nice doze, relaxed, with Anne massaging my shoulders.

“Don’t touch anything. You have to dry,” said Maria.

“Dry what?” I asked.

“Your nail varnish of course. I hope you like the shade we chose.”

“You varnished my nails? But I don’t wear nail varnish.”

“It’s OK. It’s just for tonight. We didn’t want you to be the only one at table without pretty fingers and toes. We’ll take it off if you leave tomorrow.”

This distracted me from the main question.

“If I leave tomorrow? I haven’t got the job yet.”

The two girls laughed.

“Bet we know something you don’t know,” Anne sing-songed. “Mother’s going to take you on for sure, and if you don’t have to go home, the Institute will arrange to pack up your stuff for you and bring it here.”

“How do you know?”

“That’s what happened to us,” they said together. “We just KNOW you’re going to be one of the family.”

I shook my head, not knowing what to say, but hoping with all my heart that they were right. I looked at my fingernails and at my toes, dry now, and a bright coral pink. Hmmm, yes, they did look nice. I wondered why I had never made them look pretty before.

“Right, let’s find you something to wear,”

Anne rummaged in one of the drawers and handed me a pair of white nylon panties, definitely not male style.

“I can’t wear those! They’re for a girl. Besides, they must belong to whoever’s room this is. I have the ones I bought with me.”

She picked up the pair I had brought with me from the case in her fingertips and spread them with a look of distaste. They had seen better days. Buying underwear isn’t your top priority when you’re broke.

“They’re dirty, and worn-out,” she said. “You can’t wear them when you’re all nice and clean. Anyway, I’m sure this room will be yours tomorrow and that includes everything in it. So they are actually yours.”

I meekly submitted and blushingly turned away from her to put on the pair she had given me. The dressing gown slipped off as I pulled up the panties and she gasped.

“Maria, look at this. The poor thing is so thin!”

OK, so I hadn’t been eating too well for the last few months. Maria came in from the wardrobe and grasped one of my arms round the biceps. Her fingers and thumb almost met.

“You poor dear. We have to put some flesh on your bones. Never mind, after a couple of months here you won’t know yourself.”

For some reason they both giggled wildly. Maria waved a pair of ivory-coloured slacks at me.

“Try these on and see if they fit.”

They were women’s slacks with no fly, only a zip at the back. As I began to protest she pushed me onto the bed and pulled them up my legs.

“Stand,” she ordered me, and the path of least resistance seemed to be to stand. It’s hard to fight with your pants down, whether they’re men’s or women’s.

She pulled them up and examined the length.

“Pretty good, and before you say you have a pair, they’re threadbare and we don’t want you to disgrace yourself tonight. Besides, they need cleaning too. We’ll get that taken care of, and your other clothes.”

Her partner-in-crime, meanwhile, was tugging my arms into the sleeves of a white silky shirt-like top, which she proceeded to button up while I stood with my mouth opening and closing and nothing coming out.She tucked the hem into the slacks, spinning me round to zip the back of the pants. They both then pulled and twisted a little until they were happy that everything was straight.

“Shoes,” said Maria.

“I think these,” responded Anne, dangling a pair of tan sandals with small heels in front of me.

“Perfect. We can’t have those pretty toes covered up and they’ll help with posture.”

The next thing I knew I was wearing them. I looked down and my toes stuck out nicely.

“Cute,” I thought.

“What are we going to do with the hair and the face?”

“Tonight I think not too much. A bit of a brush and a fluff while you put on a little mascara and lippy. That should do it. Understated, just enough to blend in with everyone else.”

I had given up. I was being treated like a clothes-horse, not a woman. Shit, did I think that? They did what they were going to do and then woman-handled me to the mirror.

I looked at myself expecting to see a clown, but I didn’t look like that at all. I was somewhere between a man and a woman. I didn’t feel as if I was in drag. I felt nice, neat and tidy. The make-up accentuated my eyes and lips and I reached a hand up to see that the nail polish matched perfectly. My hair wasn’t long but hadn't been cut for a while; another casualty of joblessness. Somehow she had fluffed it out with a comb and a brush and it looked more stylish and more than a little girly.

I should probably have been embarrassed to hell, but instead I just felt comfortable. I loved my varnished toes peeping out of the sandals and a little thrill went through me.

“Well? Did we do good? Isn’t that better than going to dinner with a lot of smartly dressed ladies wearing shabby gear like that?” Maria indicated my male clothing.

I could only smile and nod. I would actually like to look like this all the time, I thought to myself.

“Just in time. Let’s go.”

They took an arm each and led me down the two flights of stairs to a large dining room with a table which could have seated twenty people and had enough standing room for diners to chat and mingle before eating. There were in fact about a dozen people there, with places laid for that number.

The first person I saw was Dr. Wilson, transformed in a forest-green cocktail dress. She eyed me up and down and held out her hand for me to take.

“Well done, girls,” she said to Maria and Anne. “Mr. Smith, may I call you Joan?” She made it almost sound like Joanne.

“Yes, of course Dr. Wilson.”

“Well, Joan, I have to say that your chances just went up to 99%, even though I shouldn’t talk shop at dinner. You do look very nice, my dear.”

“Thank you.” I’m sure I blushed, but my mind was registering that 99% and wondering why I had become a near-certainty and I felt funny about the compliment. Somehow, it made me feel all quivery inside.

“Let’s get you a glass of wine and I’ll introduce you to some of the other staff.” She signaled to a lovely black girl dressed in French maid’s uniform.

“Mindy, please get Joan a glass of Chablis.”

The girl curtsied, “Yes Ma’am,” hurried off and returned very shortly with the wine, which she gave to me, curtseying again as she did so.

Dr. Wilson beamed proudly. “Mindy is one of our real success stories, so obedient and submissive, a lovely girl, and so very useful.”

I was then introduced to several other ladies, whose names I forgot within seconds of being introduced, but who all welcomed me to the Institute and seemed to appraise me for whatever their special fields of interest were. Two things stayed with me. Why did I think of them as “other” ladies? And why did I feel like a slab of meat?

Dr. Wilson fascinated me. She was a powerful personality, and, for an older woman, very attractive. This did not come across so strongly when she was in daytime mode, but there at dinner she was extremely seductive. I had this urge to do whatever it took to please her. When we sat at the table she placed me at her right hand and devoted much of the meal to chatting with me, frequently touching my arm as she spoke. It sent little thrills through me and I kind of fell in love, but as a daughter to a mother, which made no sense at all.

Dinner finished at about ten and Dr. Wilson reached over and took my hand, squeezing gently.

“Go and get a good night’s rest, Joan. We will start at eight with the rest of your tests and I really want you to succeed. I have a very good feeling about you. Maria and Anne will help you to undress and get ready for bed.”

It felt like an order, although she phrased it very nicely, and I knew I had to obey, so we three girls (three?) went up to my room and I let them undress me without embarrassment, right down to the skin. Anne started to fondle me but Maria slapped her hands away with a glare, making Anne pout. Somehow I wasn’t aroused. They gave me a pretty pink cotton nightdress and I brushed my teeth before going to bed and sleeping like a baby (and I don’t mean waking up every two hours for a feed) for the first time in ages.

They woke me at 6 a.m., evidently assigned to be my guardian angels. They let me go to the loo and do what everybody does in the morning. Normally I would stand to pee but it just didn’t feel right so I sat for the whole performance and then had a shower. Anne made me wear a shower cap. I was half done when she pulled me out of the cubicle and frantically started stroking my dick. As I hardened she knelt before me and sucked and nibbled and kissed me until I exploded in her mouth.

“Shhh!” She said.” Don’t tell, but I couldn’t let it go without a decent goodbye.” She grinned like the Cheshire Cat as she pushed me back into the shower and told me to make sure I was clean. I had no idea what she meant, but I wasn’t complaining. I knew what a blow-job was but I had never had one before.

I think I was still grinning like a fool when Maria came back and wanted to know why I was taking so long. Anne told her I already showered like a woman. I didn’t understand that comment either.

They got me out and dried me and powdered me, and Maria asked me if I would be comfortable wearing the same clothes as I wore at dinner last night (except for clean panties). It had all felt all right last night and nobody had freaked out at the sight of me so I said it was OK by me.

The only difference was she gave me a different pair of sandals, white with a two and a half inch heel, the toes still open so that I could admire my pretty toe-nails. I didn’t mind as they were comfortable enough, and the only make-up was a gloss of lipstick and a couple of swipes of mascara.

We went down to the dining-room, where a buffet breakfast was laid out. After last night I wasn’t very hungry, so I just had orange juice, some vitamin pills that Anne gave me, toast and coffee. I was still worried about the remaining tests despite all that I had been told. We went back upstairs so that I could clean my teeth. Truth to tell, I felt like vomiting; I was so nervous.

We went downstairs again. But this time they knocked on Dr. Wilson’s door and took me in when she opened it.

“Good Morning, Joan. How are you?”

“Very nervous, Dr. Wilson.”

“My dear, I told you last night you were 99% certain to join us.”

“Yes, I know, but it’s that one per cent that worries me. I so want to make it.”

“You will, my dear. You will. Now come and lie on the couch."

I went to the couch and lay down.

“Now watch the wheel,” she said. “Relax…..relax…..relax.”

“Joanne. You can wake up now, darling.”

The clock said it was 9 a.m. although it felt like moments since I had drifted off.

“Now, Joanne, we are offering you a position with us. You have passed our tests VERY satisfactorily, but you have to understand what you are in for. First, I want you to sign these releases and then I will explain what will happen over the next three years.”

I was overjoyed. My heart nearly burst. I had pleased this wonderful woman sitting next to me. She took my hand and led me over to the desk, gave me a pen and I signed the offered papers eagerly.

“Now, Joanne, one of our prime objectives is to take a normal man, within certain physical parameters, and transform him into a woman, not only physically but mentally. I want you to understand that. Please confirm to me that you do,”

I understood what she said but wondered why she was telling me. However, it seemed like a good idea to agree, so that I would be able to stay in this wonderful place with this woman and all the other lovely ladies and girls.

“I understand.”

“You will be trained in many skills and crafts. You will be under surveillance during the whole time you stay with us for monitoring purposes and educational reasons. You are expected to complete the whole course. If you prove to be unsuitable or break our rules you will be expelled without notice and we will remove your memories of this place. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand.” A thrill of fear ran through me. I didn't want to let her down.

“Then sign here and you are officially employed by the Institute. You may take your time and read the contract first,” and she handed me a sheaf of about ten pages.

I knew she wouldn’t do anything to hurt me so I didn’t bother reading the whole thing. I just signed and smiled at her, passing the papers back across the desk.

“Thank you, my dear. I have a feeling that if you work hard you will be our most successful subject. Now, from this moment on you will call me Mother.”

I was so happy I thought I would swoon, like one of those heroines in a bodice-ripper.

“Do you need to go home to get any personal belongings? If you like we can have them collected and brought here for storage. What about arrangements to terminate your lease on the flat? Can we help you with that?”

I didn’t ever want to leave this place. There was nothing in my flat worth keeping, just some old men’s clothing. The rest belonged to the landlord. The rent was paid to the end of the month and I could terminate by email. I explained all this to Mother and she asked me for my keys and said she would have the place cleaned and make the necessary arrangements to vacate it.

“So do you want to start straight away?”

“Oh, yes please, Mother. Can I?”

“Certainly. Now, we have found that it helps to have a clear mind when we start the program.

As soon as she said that word my memories of my previous existence dropped away. It wasn’t unpleasant. I just knew that nothing mattered before I arrived here and it wasn’t that I couldn’t remember, but there was nothing worth remembering. All the important things in my life started when Maria opened the door for me. Before that it was sort of fuzzy and kind of distasteful. I just didn't want to think about it.

She pressed a buzzer and Maria came in, back in her white coat.

“Maria. Joanne has joined us. I want you and Anne to prepare her properly to be one of our family. When she comes to dinner tonight I would like her to be the belle of the ball as it were. Will you take care of everything please?”

Maria gave me a brilliant smile, grabbed both of my hands and kissed me soundly.

“See, I told you you’d get the position.” Turning to Mother she said, “It will be a pleasure, ma’am. She’s already responding, isn’t she?”

Dr. Wilson smiled. “She’s off the scale. I think we have a real winner here.”

I didn’t quite get the meaning, but they both seemed very happy about me and for me, so I basked in a warm glow until Maria pulled me out of the office and led me upstairs to the bedroom.

“I TOLD you! These are your rooms now. I knew it, so we got some really, really nice things for you. Look.”

She tugged me into the walk-in robe and there were rows of hangers with skirts, tops and dresses of all descriptions. A shoe-rack held at least two dozen pairs, ranging from trainers to high heels. She pulled me back into the living area and pulled open drawer after drawer in the sideboard, displaying panties, bras, camisoles, stockings, girdles, petticoats and jumpers, cardigans, and blouses galore. The dressing-table, with lighted mirror, had what looked like fifty or sixty bottles, jars, sprays and all manner of brushes on it.

“Wow!” was all I could muster. “I love it,” and I clapped my hands at the prospect of trying everything on.

“Yes, all yours. Now strip and we’ll get started and make you nice, like a girl should be.”

I stripped, totally unselfconsciously, and stood in the middle of the floor while she walked around me, inspecting me.

“It’s probably good that you’re so thin, not too much muscle, not much hair. We’ll soon get rid of most of that, although you’ll find electrolysis a pain, literally. Mmm, nice tight tush, great legs, dear.”

She grabbed hold of my penis and started stroking it, then knelt down and began to talk to it, stroking all the time.

“Poor boy. Soon you will become a useless piece of meat and then you will have to make the ultimate sacrifice because your mistress won’t want you or need you any more. I feel so sorry for you that I’m going to grant you one last request. Nod if you want it.”

My cock had become rock hard as she fondled it. Somehow it did seem incongruous that I had a penis but that did not stop it throbbing. She had it grasped firmly and she wagged it up and down as if it were agreeing with her.

“I knew you’d see things my way,” she said to it and leaned forward and kissed the tip, and then she engulfed it in her mouth, sliding her lips over the mushroom at its end and then slowly feeding the length of the shaft into her mouth, back and forth ,using her fingernails to rake it as she took more and more into her.

I couldn’t help myself. I was totally aroused and I grabbed her head and held it to me, jerking into her mouth and throat until I spurted a load of semen into her gullet. I was virtually a virgin and now I’d had two blow-jobs in one morning.

“That was lovely,” I gasped, “but why did you do it? Wouldn’t Mother be angry?”

“I’m sure she knows already,” she said, licking her lips and smiling at a tiny camera which I noticed for the first time in the ceiling. “She watches everything. Besides, it’s a kind of tradition. Somebody did it for me when I first came here.”

“B-but you’re a girl.”

“Yes, but I wasn’t when I arrived here. I was just like you, except you’re prettier, and you’re nearly a girl already. It took me a while. I promise you, you will do that for a new kid one day,” and she gently ran her hand along my cheek.

The penny dropped. “All of you? What about Mother?”

She nodded. “Every one of us, and especially Mother. She’s world famous, but under a different name. She’s an authority on the treatment of trans-gender issues.”

“But WHY?”

“You’ll be told when she thinks you’re ready and that’s enough for now.” Then she said something that I couldn’t quite catch and I lost interest.

“OK, enough fun, let’s get you ready for your beauty appointment. Into the bathroom!” She smacked my bottom, making me squeal, and I obeyed.

She stopped me outside the shower-stall and slathered me all over with a nasty-smelling cream, telling me to stand still for a few minutes, then she pushed me into the shower and, using the hand nozzle, washed all of my body-hair down the drain. She gave me some floral-scented soap , shampoo and conditioner and instructed me to shower properly and wash my hair.

When I had finished she helped me to dry myself and wrapped a towel around me, showing me how to fix it from the chest down.

“It’ll be much easier when you’ve got boobs,” and she wrapped another towel round my head turban-style.

We went back into the living-area and she had me take off the towel and lie on the bed. She produced a couple of things that looked like chicken fillets... breast not thigh... which she told me were breast forms, applied an adhesive and carefully positioned them on my chest, telling me that they would stay on at least a week but I would have to remove them for an hour or so to clean the skin underneath to avoid problems.

“It’s only for a few months, and then you won’t need them. You’ll have your own.”

I WANTED to have my own so badly I could taste them. It hit me then that I could never be truly happy until I had real breasts of my very own, beautiful round globes of feminine flesh with big nipples and aureoles like brown dollars, that would press against my clothes and men would admire them. I imagined a locket nestled between them in my cleavage. I lay on the bed for five minutes as instructed and when I got up I felt much better. The weight on my chest was so right and natural. It made me move much more fluidly and pushed my hips forward so that I stood straighter. I looked in the mirror and my body was already feminine and pretty. The turban towel around my head did something for my face too. I wished my dick was not there and I could see myself as a woman.

“Come on. Stop daydreaming. We have to get you ready for the salon. If you think you look pretty now, wait until we’ve finished with you there. Here let’s get this on you,”

She gave me a pair of white panties with little flowers on them. So pretty. And then she helped me to put on a matching bra and showed me how to centre my breasts in the cups by leaning forward and wriggling them.

"We’ll skip the suspender belt and stockings until dinner. We may want to do something different with your feet. I think just a simple dress , something to leave your shoulders and arms free for your hair-do. Ooh! I’m looking forward to tonight. Mother said we have to make you into the belle of the ball. You’re going to be so beautiful.”

She had been pulling out dresses from the racks and posing them against my body, then discarding them on the bed. Suddenly she stopped and took another look at the one she was holding. It was a white sun-dress with yellow and orange flowers all over it, a scooped neck and back, cut wide but still covering my bra-straps, short sleeves to the upper arm, and a knee-length full skirt with built-in petticoats.

“This is it. Bright and summery to suit your personality, demure but not too much so and a bit fifties-ish, almost Doris Day. Let’s see what it looks like on.”

I had already fallen in love with it and hurried to step into it and let her zip me up at the back. When she did, it hugged my waist and bust and the petticoats swished against my legs so sexily that my penis stood up in ecstasy. She saw it and laughed, before giving it a healthy swipe which made it lie down.

“I don’t have to ask if you like it,”

I admired myself in the mirror.

“Wait till I get some shoes. It’ll look even better.” She darted off and came back with a pair of white sling-back sandals with, I guess, three-inch heels and had me lift each foot as she slipped them on. I looked SOOO elegant. I longed for make-up and a feminine hair-do to make me complete.

“God, I’m jealous. You’re not even done and you look gorgeous. All right, let’s get to the salon before I ravish you.”

She took my hand and led me back downstairs again, tottering a bit in my heels, and into a large room fitted out with all the kit you would expect in a woman’s beauty parlour, four recliner swivel chairs, mirrors everywhere, basins, nozzles, hairdryers, brushes, the works.

Anne was there and she greeted me with a hug and a smile, re-introducing me to a red-headed girl called Barbara, who I had met the evening before but whose name I had forgotten.

“It’s going to be such a pleasure working on you Joanne. We were all really rooting for you to get the job. We knew you’d be perfect and when we’ve finished with you today you’ll know we were right.”

They took me to one of the chairs and sat me down, not before Anne and Barbara had exclaimed over my dress and said how much it suited me.

“Now today we’re going to give you a makeover. We’ll give you hair extensions, which will take a little time but it’s so much easier to handle than a wig and lets us teach you how to care for your hair over the next few weeks. We’ll give you a laser hair removal treatment. You’ll have to have electrolysis as well because you’re quite fair, but we won’t do that today. Then some eyebrow shaping and a facial. While we’re doing that we’ll inject a little collagen into your lips to make you nice and pouty. Full lips are so sexy.. Men can’t wait to kiss you.

“Nails again. We’ll give you some acrylics for now, since you don’t have to go back to being a man. We’ll colour you a little more dramatic too, a bit sexier. Pierce your ears, of course, only takes a minute. You’ll enjoy it all and you’ll be thrilled when you see yourself nicely made-up with a new hair-do.”

It all sounded lovely, although I wondered briefly what she meant about me going back to being a man. Never mind, it was probably just a silly remark.

For the next six hours I was operated on. Most of it was enjoyable though some parts were a little painful. Finally they made up my face. I was seated upright during this process and they explained every step to me and showed me the correct way to apply all the various cosmetics. I could feel the information being almost sucked into my brain and knew I would soon be able to imitate their actions.

Last of all they combed and fluffed and teased out my hair until golden waves flowed down to my shoulders, artfully framing the face that they had put so much effort into, my new pillow-like lips coloured a dramatic crimson to match my redone fingers and toes.

Although I had watched them prepare me there was something very powerful about the finished product. I turned my head from side to side and watched the sparkle of the diamond studs in my ears and the sexy way that a lock of hair fell over my right eye so that I had to look through it.

A great rush of gratitude to these girls and to Mother coursed through my body, that they had helped me find myself and that I would forever be one with them. I felt like crying but Maria was ready with a tissue which she dabbed at the corners of my eyes.

“Don’t you dare cry,” she admonished. “You don’t want us to have to start all over again, do you?”

I shook my head, lips trembling between a smile and the tears. I wanted to kiss them all but that would have to wait.

“Well, I think we’ve done what Mother asked,” said Barbara. “I think she’ll be the belle of the ball, well, a sensation at dinner, anyway.”

“Absolutely sensational,” chimed in Anne, and I blushed to the roots of my platinum hair, making them all giggle.

The day had gone by between my remaining tests and the time spent in the salon, so that when we returned to my room it was already time to dress for dinner. I kept admiring myself in the mirror and I really didn’t want to get undressed, but they made me.

I stood naked while they selected my outfit for the evening, black lacy panties and a push-up bra to begin with. Then a black suspender belt and sheer black stockings, which they showed me how to roll to put on and made sure the suspender straps went under my panties in case I had to go to the toilet. They followed up with a delightful little black dress with a halter neck, emphasizing my cleavage. It hugged my waist and flared from my hips, stopping well above my knees and showing off my nylon-clad legs. I thought it went very well with my platinum-blonde hair cascading to my shoulders.

I had never thought about wearing jewellery. A watch was just something to tell the time with, but when I saw the confection of gold and diamonds that they fastened to my left wrist, I knew I would think differently from now on. I couldn't help myself making extravagant arm movements so that everyone would notice it. However, that was soon topped by the elegant diamond bracelet on my right wrist and the huge diamond pendant that nestled between my breasts. I couldn't stop fondling it.

They finished me off with a pair of strappy high-heeled evening sandals. It seemed that every pair of shoes that they gave me had higher heels than the last pair. These had a three-and-a-half inch heel, but the practice I’d had with the others meant I could handle walking in them with no difficulty.

They checked my make-up and pronounced me ready. I couldn’t take my eyes off myself. I was no raving beauty but I certainly looked and felt like a pretty girl. I wondered why I had never thought of dressing up to the nines before. The two girls left me standing there. As they went Anne said something I couldn’t hear. I continued to feast my eyes until they came back a few seconds later, magically changed and ready for dinner. Anne said something to me and I jumped.

“How did you do that?” I asked.

“Do what?” Maria came back

“Get ready for dinner so quickly.”

“Oh, it’s a little trick we know. We’ll show you one day.” They grinned at each other. “Come on. Let’s go down and have fun.”

We trooped down the stairs together and I wanted to make an entrance to the dining room but Maria held me back until Anne peeped round the door and then nodded. Maria pushed me forwards and I entered the room. Everybody in the house was lined up, apparently waiting for me. When they saw me there were gasps and smiles and they started to applaud.

Anne and Maria struck poses on either side of me as if presenting me and exclaimed, “Ta-Da!”

Mother came across and took my hands and said, “Welcome, Joanne. You look lovely.”

She then placed a finger on each of my cheeks and turned my face from side to side, examining me carefully.

“Hmm, I think we’ll need a little work on the nose, lips need plumping up and a touch on the jaw-line, We’ll widen the eyes and get rid of the Adam’s Apple and then you’ll be absolutely perfect. I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you, dear?”

The desire to please her almost overwhelmed me. “Of course, Mother. Whatever you think best.”

“Would you like to start the procedures tomorrow, then?”

“If you say so.”

“I think it’s for the best. It won’t interfere with your deportment or voice therapy lessons, and we can still start on etiquette and fashion. We’ll do the paperwork in the morning. Come to my office at 8.30 and wear something simple. Now, let’s enjoy ourselves. Mindy. Wine please.”

Mindy, who had been standing by unobtrusively, smiled, curtsied and sashayed off, swinging her hips as she went, in a very provocative way. I suddenly recalled that she had once been a boy and had great difficulty believing it. I remembered that according to Maria everybody here had been male.

“Mother,” I said. “Is it true that everyone here was a man at one time?”

“I don’t think I would describe them as men, my sweet. It is true that they all had male bodies, myself included. We regarded that as a birth defect and corrected it, just as we are going to do with you. You don’t think of yourself as a man, do you?”

“No, of course not.”

“But you have a male body at the moment. You want that fixed, don’t you?”

I shuddered, disgusted at being in this false shell. “As soon as possible, Mother.”

“Well, we’ll talk more about it in the morning. Ah, here’s our wine. Thank you, Mindy.”

Mindy smiled saucily and batted her eyelashes at me as she gave us the glasses. “My pleasure, Ma’am,” as she curtsied and turned away.

“Oh, that girl! Always practicing!” said Mother fondly. “Joanne, I said I wanted you to be the belle of the ball and you truly are. That dress really sets off your hair and eyes. I really must compliment Maria and Anne, not forgetting Barbara. She did a wonderful job on your hair. Come, my dear. Let’s sit down.”

We went to the table and she sat me at her right hand again. The evening was a rerun of last night, except that I got lots of attention, smiles and compliments and basked in it all, especially when Mother’s fingers would caress my arm and I got that electric tingle running through me. I knew I was her slave and wanted to spend the rest of my life serving her.

At ten she announced that it was time to go to bed, and so Anne, Maria and I went up to my room, where they cleaned off my make-up, showing me how to do it, chose a pretty pink baby-doll nightie for me and tucked me into bed. They both kissed me goodnight and said they would wake me in the morning.

I think I fell asleep immediately and dreamed vivid, happy dreams of me running through fields in my gorgeous sun-dress and sophisticatedly sipping cocktails in my LBD while I conversed wittily with handsome men in tuxedos.

They woke me as promised at six in the morning and I went to do my business. I just could not stand in front of the toilet bowl. It felt so wrong and it was with relief that I sat comfortably until I finished. Putting on my shower-cap was automatic, as if I had done it all my life and I reveled in the perfume of the soap I used.

Dried with the help of the girls I selected bra and panties, plain white satin with lace trimming. Mother had told me to wear something simple, so I chose a pair of cream slacks and a bright pink jersey top with the word “GURRL” in sequins across the front. For my shoes I selected a pair of cream sandals with a three-inch heel. I quickly brushed on a touch of mascara and a little coral-pink lipstick, ran a comb through my hair and fluffed it out and I was ready to go down to breakfast with my guardians.

They stood gaping at me and then looked at each other.

“God! That’s only after one day. Mother’s right. She’s off the scale.”

I didn’t know why they thought anything special had happened. After all, I had watched how they did things yesterday.

This morning I ate a decent breakfast, the nerves of the day before were laid to rest. The pair kissed me goodbye after eating, saying they would see me tomorrow as they knew Mother was going to send me for a little surgery later, so I went upstairs and cleaned my teeth before going back down to her office.

“Enter,” she called when I knocked. “Ah, good morning, Joanne. You look well-rested. Please sit down. Before we send you for surgery I want to have a talk to you and explain what we are doing for you. I have told you that you are extremely receptive to hypnotic suggestion. I have made a few modifications to your mindset to facilitate your education.

“I have suppressed your memories of your previous life… not destroyed….. they will be restored to full strength later, but for the duration of our program you will live largely in the present. I have estimated that you will master most subjects to the point where they become instinctive in about two weeks. At that juncture your conscious memory of preceding events will fade so that you can concentrate fully on matters currently in progress.

“I have heightened your retentive abilities so that you will observe more keenly and learn how to perform actions you have seen after only a few repetitions. I have given you an intense desire to learn, absorb and imitate female mannerisms, inflections of speech and movement, cultural affectations and attitudes. I only have to look at you to see that this is working already.”

She gave me a radiant smile and came round the desk, holding out her arms to embrace me. I rose to meet her and we hugged.

“You are going to be my star pupil. I have all your subjects planned. When you’ve done basic deportment, speech, fashion co-ordination, dress-making, hair-dressing and cosmetics we’ll move you on to “House” and Mindy will show you how to take care of cooking, service, chamberwork, flower arrangement, laundry and such.

“To make sure you get fit we also have tai-chi and tae kwon do which you will practice daily. For dance we have ballet and ballroom dancing to make you graceful. You’re going to be a busy girl and I haven’t even mentioned languages and the feminine arts yet.

“You will have a daily hypnotherapy session for reinforcement and review. Some classes will be conducted when you are in trance. Of course we have to fit your physical transformation into this regime in a way that permits other subjects to continue with minimum interruption. After all, we did promise physical improvement in our advertisement, and we always deliver on our contractual obligations. Do you have any questions before we prep you for today’s procedures?”

“No, Mother, only I can’t wait to get started.”

“Good girl. Then I’ll just get you to sign these releases agreeing that you have requested these operations and we’ll get you started. We’ll keep you in the clinic overnight just to make sure there are no complications.”

I signed the proffered documents and mother said some words and the next thing I woke up in a hospital bed. My vision was restricted because I had pads over the outer ends of my eyes, but I could see a large pad on my nose. I tried to speak but only a croak emerged. Immediately there was a nurse by my side.

“Don’t talk dear. I’ll go and get the surgeon.”

A few minutes later a business-like woman appeared, in the regulation white coat. I recognized her from the dining room.

“In case you don’t remember, my name is Julia. I operated on you today and everything is fine. You should try not to talk for the next couple of days and you’ll be a bit croaky from the tracheotomy for a few more days, but you should be quite normal in a week. I’ll remove the stitches from your eyes in a week and we’ll leave your nose and jaw line covered for a bit longer. You won’t be very pretty until the bruising disappears. That’ll take a couple or three weeks, but when it’s gone you should be beautiful.”

Taking her advice I nodded and grasped her hand to show I understood. I left the clinic the next morning and immediately started the regime as outlined to me by Mother. Most things seemed ridiculously easy. Walking, sitting, bending, gestures, mannerisms became instinctive within a few weeks. It seemed no time at all before I could walk like a catwalk model. Then I forgot ever learning.

When my bandages came off and the bruises faded I was captivated by my own face, until I could no longer remember when I hadn’t looked like that. It was just my face and I was beautiful. Putting on make-up made me perfect and I hated being without it.

About six weeks into the program my nipples became swollen and very tender, although the breast forms stopped this from being a major problem except when I took them off. Then, when I was washing myself I would become totally aroused. My penis would stiffen without me touching it and I would orgasm in a trembling frenzy which shook my whole body. I knew that my breasts would soon begin to grow and I could hardly wait until they were the right shape for my body.

My hips had started to grow and my body hair had virtually disappeared. The hair on


Re: Becoming Her Black Widow Spider - damo

I was loving this story but cant see the end. Would the author please please send it all to me?

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