Sissify Yourself: From Jim to Janie

I can alter people's minds. I don't know where my gift came from. I don't know why I have it or why it allows me to do what I do. But I have it and by God I use it. You would too. At first I used it for 'good'. I felt like a super hero. A quick personality adjust here, a change in thought pattern there. A new set of beliefs. A higher IQ. I'd give people I encountered a bit of a nudge in the right direction, if you will. But as they say (and I hate to use a cliché) ultimate power corrupts ultimately. And I can say without a doubt, I am corrupted.

I sat in my chair, behind my desk. The room was adorned with wooden-trimmed furniture. Plants were tastefully placed throughout the office. All in all, it was a very warm, relaxing place. I suppose it helps establish a bond with the patients who come here to vent their feelings and attempt to “fix” themselves. This is not my office. I am not a doctor. I never cared for psychiatrists, as I always thought their profession was a scam. With that said, it did give me abundant access to people with troubles. Maybe I had gotten lazy over the years, but this provided quite the opportunity for people to come to me instead of the other way around.

It must have been Tuesday. My “assistant” Carol, clad in pink, was on the couch frantically jabbing her pussy with a large dildo. She always wore pink on Tuesdays. She thought of me as Dr. Matthews. That had been the office's previous occupant. I saw no need to upset the balance that was already in place. I popped in one day, tapped into her and the good doctor's mind and set things straight. The real Dr. Matthews went for a trip, never to return and Carol, his assistant, now though of me as the real Dr. Matthews.

It was about 10 o'clock. Sue and Jim, my first patients of the day would be arriving for their session shortly. “Carol,” I said, “make yourself presentable. My clients will be arriving shortly. Maybe you can get off this afternoon.” Carol gave a frustrated grunt as she slowed her hand movement and removed the toy from her pussy. So close, yet so far. I had made it so she was always turned on, always horny. I gave her opportunities during the day to get off, but somehow her climax would elude her. I love seeing people frustrated. When I first tapped her mind I made her crave orgasms like no tomorrow, however I put a caveat in there, each subsequent orgasm would be more difficult to achieve than the last. I believe her last climax was Friday night. It had taken 45 min of insentient fucking from her vibrator to push her over. Poor thing.

When Carol was presentable, she left the room. I heard a muffled conversation, my “clients” must already be here. I walked over to the chair in the middle of the room and sat facing the couch Carol was just masturbating on and waited. A few moments and a yawn later, Sue and Jim crossed the room. You see, Sue and Jim were having issues with their married life. Both were nearing mid age now, probably had or were thinking of having a kid or two, and were looking to keep the spark alive. Like I cared.

“Sue. Jim. Please, sit down.” With the pleasantries dispensed I quickly tapped into their minds and put them at ease. This would make it go a little faster...plus I had a relatively full day of clients to get to. I wouldn't want a session to go over and keep them waiting.

The now content couple sat on the couch Carol was desecrating minuets before. I think Sue noticed the smell of sex in the room as she gave a puzzled look, but let it pass. “Doctor,” Sue started, “We attempted your suggestions last week. They didn't really seem to help. We went to -” I cut her off.

“That's too bad. Sue. Jim. Listen to me.” I altered their minds a bit. Anything I said would grab hold and be the complete truth. They may not like it at first, but never-the-less it would sink in to be the way of things. “You two are unhappy. And I know why-”

“Do tell doc.” Jim spoke for the first time with a roll of the eyes. I didn't like his attitude much.

“Jim, be quiet. You find yourself very shy. From now on, whenever you are in unfamiliar situations you will clam up like a 14 year old girl. Only speak when spoken to. Don't make too much eye contact now. You are an expert on hard wood and carpeted floors.” Jim's smirk quickly disappeared and his gaze fell to the floor. He uncrossed his legs, put them together, and placed his hands in his lap. That 14 year old girl comment really took hold.

“Now then. Where was I? Ah yes. You two are unhappy and I know why.” I looked at Sue. “The dynamic of your relationship is all wrong. Sue, you hate men. You hate men for what your father did to you, and you see yourself in the same helpless situation. Frankly, you not being in charge is causing marital difficulties.”

Sue looked shocked. “What Father did to me? What are you talking about, not in charge?” Sue looked over to her husband who was intently gazing at the floor. He looked a little anxious, his fingers nervously toying with his pants. She turned her heads back toward me. “I don't hate men.”

“Well, hate is a strong word. You distrust them and in general don't like them. You see, your father went off the deep end a bit when your mother died at the start of your high school career.” I tapped her mind and planted some memory seeds. All I needed to do was keep talking, her imagination would take care of the rest. I saw the memories form. Sue remembered her mother dying in a car crash when Sue was fourteen. Her father was devastated. I continued. “The crash changed him a bit. It didn't turn him into a horrible creature, but it surely warped him. He missed your mom so much that he made you do things. Sometimes it was through trickery, sometimes forced, but in the end you submitted to his will. And that is what makes you dislike men. Especially men who radiate confidence and try to tell you what to do. But it is a double edge sword. You equate men with happiness as even though your father was not right in the head, you loved him through and through.”

Sue's mind was hastily rewriting itself. She remembered her college days in a new way now. She didn't date much and even experimented with women. No relationship really lasted that long. She liked being with woman, but something was missing when she was with them. “My...my father made me do things? I don't recall-” I held up my hand and she stopped.

“Like I said, nothing horrible. You see he was lost without your mother, but at the same time he had you. You, who looked so much like her. He lost himself to fantasy a bit and in a way thought of you as her. That is why he coerced you one way or another into being just like her, appearing to be her.” Sue's memories shifted some more. No longer was she the star athlete on her high school soccer team. Her mother was not very sporty so her father had discouraged her from trying out for the team. Instead he insisted that she be more woman like. Women were suppose to be more dainty and alluring. Her thoughts traded memories of being more like a tom-boy to being more like cheerleader. The comfortable jeans and a tee-shirt traded for skirts, tube tops and other clothing that showed her developing body. “Take the smoking for example.”

“Smoking?” Sue's demeanor changed quickly. This was something she truly didn't like. “I don't smoke, that is disgusting. Plus, my mother didn't smoke.”

“That is silly, Sue. You started smoking when you were fourteen, and of course your mom smoked. She was a slave to her habit, almost always with cigarette in hand. Just as you are. You could never think of quiting. Quiting is the farthest thing from your mind. You always have an extra pack on hand, just in case. Running out of cigarettes is akin to finding out that you have been fired, or hearing that a loved one has been injured. It is a horrible, horrible thought that makes you unbelievable anxious, almost panicky. Needing a smoke and not having one? Shudder to think.”

I could tell she was resisting this last bit, so I had to tap her mind again and really push it in there. I needed to do a little setup anyway, so I implanted the desire to always make her father happy. She felt sorry for him after all, considering the situation. That is why she was so easily molded by him as a teen. The clothing, the attitude, skipping out on the dating scene to stay at home with him on the weekends. Once I was sure that was firmly in place. I pushed a little harder, implanted a few more memories, all be it hazy, of her mother always smoking. Always having a light cigarette in hand. The morning coffee smoke, the after dinner smoke, the lounging on the couch smoke, the getting ready for bed smoke. All were present if not exactly clear in Sue's mind.

She now recalled her father always commented on how pretty her mother was when she smoked. And pretty her mother was, I insured. Sue remembered how her mother had always been beautiful. Could it have been the smoking that enhanced it? It was enough. I felt the idea take hold and settle in. Sue remembered the comments from her father. The comments made when seeing someone smoking and how he thought it made them look older, more confident. How he would never be angry if she smoked. She “accidentally” found an old pack of her mother's Virginia Slims about half way through her freshman year of high school. She tried it. Didn't like it at first, but knew it would make her dad happy. So she tried it again, and again. One day her father walked in on her doing the deed and told her it was OK and to do as she pleased with no worries. Her habit grew from there.

Sue was visibly relaxing again. Her mind digesting the new input. “You're right. I don't know why I said that. Must be the heat.” She laughed a little. One of those 'I'm an idiot lets move on' laughs.

A quick glance at Jim told me he was utterly confused, not that he would speak up. He was now examining his nails, his thoughts drifting to how ugly they were, how the cuticles looked terrible. I really need to watch my suggestions there. But I'd worry about that later.

“No worries. I know how it is sometimes.” Whatever. “As I was saying you're completely addicted to smoking. Quitting is just not an option. Not when you smoke as much as you do.”

“I know right?” she smiled and chuckled, still embarrassed by her previous statements.

“How much do you smoke?” I asked.

“Oh, I don't know. A lot, I guess.”

“How much is a lot? Couple packs a week?” Now I was just toying. I love drawing this out.

“Yea, something like that.” She really didn't know. She just knew she smoked 'a lot'.

“More than that probably? I bet you smoke more on weekends since your not at work.”

“I suppose so. Maybe a three packs a week.”

“That's it? I figured a smoker of fifteen years or so would probably smoke well over a pack a day on the weekends. After all, there is nothing restricting you from indulging in your addiction.”

“Now that you mention it, yea. Probably around five packs a week.” The talk of smoking had made her realize that she hadn't had one in a while. Her new false memories and attitude of being a heavy smoker was starting to kick in. She started to fidget a bit.

“Come on, five?” I gave a warm smile. “I wouldn't be surprised if you smoked a pack a day. On average, that is.” That ought to do it.

“Ok! Geeze! I smoke about a pack a day, more on the weekends! You have it out of me, you happy?” She genuinely laughed at that. Sue then unconsciously made a motion for her purse before realizing she was going for a cigarette and stopped herself.

“You look uneasy. Are you okay?” My how easy it is for me to change people.

“Yea, it has just been a while since the last time I smoked. I'll be fine.” She looked less fine by the moment.

“If you'd like to smoke, please do.” Get ready for it.

“In here, you sure? Isn't there some law about that?” Probably.

“Oh, I don't mind. If it helps my patients stay relaxed I'm all for it.” I lied. “Let me get you an ashtray.” I got up and took an ashtray from my desk. When I turned around the scene was just as I had figured it would play out. Sue was franticly rummaging through her purse softly cursing to herself. Her face was pale white. Where could her cigarettes be? “Something wrong?”

“I...I...I seemed to be out of cigarettes. I can't find my pack. Where are they? Shit. Where the fuck are they?” Sue's hands were shaking now trying desperately to find them in her purse. Never mind the fact that the purse was only big enough to hold a few things. “What am I going to do? Christ! Shit, shit shit!” She was on the verge of tears.

“It's okay. It's okay. Here, let me get you some.” I opened up my second drawer and took out two packs of Marlboro 100s. “Here you go.” I handed her both packs. She became instantly relieved.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you! I'm so forgetful sometimes.” Her hands were still shaking as she took a 100mm cigarette from the pack and put in between her lips. “Not my brand, but that's alright.” She still thought she smoked her mother's brand, Virginia Slims. Another quick glance at Jim told me he was lost with everything going on. Not just confused. He wanted to speak, I could tell, but my suggestions prevented him from doing so. He was flabbergasted.

“Not your brand? But it is.” I handed her a lighter and she immediately lit up and took a deep inhale. A coughing fit followed immediately after. I ignored it. “Let me finish our conversation. As I said you don't like men much. Well that is because when you went to college you figured out what your father did to you. He conditioned you to do things, he essentially controlled you. It all became clear during psychology 101. You hated him for it, but you also loved him. You hated men for their role in the world, but you need to feel connected to them. A constant duality.”

Sue took another drag and coughed again. More new memories flooded her brain. She did figure it out. How she cried and hated the world because of it. This wasn't her life, this was the life her father forced upon her. The choices she made, the major she picked, the way she acted and dressed, her addiction. I was reading all the juicy memories. It was like a movie montage. That is when her identity crisis began. She experimented with woman and did things she never thought she would do. Tried drugs, had lots of sex, rebelled in every way possible.

“It was at that point you decided how to get back at him. You loved him so you could never do anything to hurt him or anything like that. In fact you couldn't even bring it up to him. But you would not be his slave. You decided that you would always be in control. You would always have the upper hand. You switched to a more “powerful” brand of cigarettes, thus solidifying your personality shift. You would make men do things they wouldn't dream of doing, just like you. Only you take it to the extreme. You find what a man hates and turn him into that. You've done it a dozen times and you love it. The power trip gets you wet.”

And she did. She turned prim and proper frat boys into slobs. She turned intellectuals into idiots. She took success stories and turned them into failures. The technique was different, but she found a way. And she loved it. That is what made her complete, and got her off.

“Which brings us to Jim. Look at him.” Sue turned her head after another inhale and coughing fit. She looked disgusted. “You met Jim and were going to destroy him like you did so many others, but he was different somehow. Perhaps he reminded you too much of your father, so instead of dismantling his life you fell back into the submissive role. You love Jim like you love your father, with all your heart.” her face changed from disgust to a smile. “But you're not happy. You're not happy unless you are changing someone into the thing they hate most. That is why you are having marriage problems. You need to be in control Sue, and I'll set you free of your bonds.”

Sue looked back at me and stubbed out her cigarette. She looked a little green from her first smoke ever, but I put her mind at easy. “Doctor you have to help us. I love Jim, but I'm not happy. Our marriage is falling apart!”

“Sue, no worries. From now on, you call the shots. You are in charge of this relationship. Never feel as if you are not. You have free reign over Jim. You've done it before, you can do it again. But never physically hurt him. After all, he is the love of your life.”

With Sue's conditioning done, I tapped her mind and filled in any holes that may have been left. I now turned my attention to Jim. He was completely freaked out now.

“Hi Jim.” I gave a wicked smile. “How are you doing over there?”

“Hi.” He said meekly and looked up, still avoiding eye contact. “I really don't want to be here. Sue lets go, this guy is crazy. What is he doing to us?”

Sue just looked at him. “He's making things better honey. Don't worry.” She reached out and patted his leg. She really did love him through and through now. She went for another cigarette.

“Jim you heard my conversation with your wife. It is all true and you accept it fully. You're conscience can forget the gritty details of the conversion though.” I tapped his mind and put all her back story in the right spots, locked away in his head. To him, she was who she was. A sexy, beautiful, and powerful woman. She smoked, a habit he didn't like, but a small price to pay to be with her. That put him back at ease. He still wasn't comfortable so he avoided my eyes, but at least he was calm now.

“So doc, can you help our marriage?” Jim asked. Oblivious to what was going to happen.

“Yes Jim I can. The issue here is that Sue isn't in charge. From this moment on, she is. 100%. She rules the household, not you. You don't like that, but that is how it is. You value her opinion and ideas above even your own. If she says something you don't agree with, you'll find yourself questioning your beliefs and aligning your thoughts with hers.” I tapped his mind. A little devotion here, some unquestionable trust there. That is how you make a weak willed man.

“Sue is in charge? But-” I cut him off.

“Don't think about it, just listen and accept. You remember when you first met Sue? It was in a bar and she was berating the waitress for bringing her the wrong drink order. She was beautiful and confident. She captivated you. And the fact that she was smoking was icing on the cake-”

“What? I hate smoking. How could that be? The smell is awful!” What is with all these people not liking smoking? My how our culture has changed.

“Jim, don't interrupt me. You know what I say is true.” A little extra push and he was better suited for the conversation. “Jim, you love women who smoke. It isn't the end all be all thing for you, but it certainly doesn't hurt. And as for the smell, well it doesn't bother you. In fact you almost miss it if you don't smell it often enough. The smell calms you, it reminds you of a warm, secure place. Plus when it mixes with your wife's perfume it makes her that much more irresistible to you.”

“Sorry doc, you're right. Didn't mean to interrupt.” Sue was smoking again, coughing a little less than her previous endeavor. Jim smiled at the sight.

“As I was saying, you two hit it off and the rest is history. However somewhere along the way the dynamic balance got off. She wasn't in charge and that is causing strife in the relationship. But now you both realize this. She's in charge and you strive to make her as happy as you can. Seeing her upset is almost as bad real physical pain.” And now for the finishing touches. “So Jim, what do you despise? What actions or attitudes or personalities do you dislike in other people? What type of people make you uncomfortable?” The moment of true, and the beginning of Jim's end.

“Queers. Sissies. A man should be a man dammit.”

“Sue, did you hear that?” I asked.

“Yes.” She responded. Still all smiles.

“What do you think you're going to do with your husband?”

“Make him effeminate. He'll be my little slutty sissy boy.

I love it when a family comes back together. Jim looked mortified. “Jim, relax., you'll be fine. To ensure your buy in, I want you to know that you'll get great pleasure from this. The more your wife alters you, the hornier you will become. You certainly won't like it, but at least you'll get off.” I tapped his mind and suppressed the fear and that last bit of conversation. Who said I was a complete asshole. He may hate himself, but at least he'll enjoy the ride.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Sue and Jim got up and left. Like a good doctor, I had them make a follow up appointment some months down the road to see how my 'patients' were progressing with their 'treatment'. And like good patients they returned to the office promptly when they were suppose to. Not much had changed. The office was pretty much in the same order.

Sue and Jim entered and sat in their respective seats. I surveyed them and was pleased with what I observed. Jill looked very professional, in the way she dressed, modest yet teasing with what may be hidden just underneath. She wore tight, but tasteful clothing. She emanated nothing but confidence in both her composure and facial expressions. No one could mistake that when she was present, she was the go-to woman. Jim...Jim on the other hand was barely a man. To say he was dressed as a woman would be to compliment him. Jim appeared as though a trashy high school girl had told him how to dress to attract men. Jim wore skin-tight clothes, had overly long nails and a miniskirt that didn't quite cover all the right parts. His hair was done a short pony tail, and the makeup plastered to his face was overdone and slutty. He kept his legs together (which were hairless) angled to the side. Both hands rested limply on top of his small purse, that probably held nothing but bare essentials for someone of his demeanor. As if to confirm my suspensions, he opened his purse, pulled out his compact and checked to make sure his face was done up properly.

“Sue, Jim.” I started, after Jim put his mirror away. “Welcome back! How's...life?”

Sue answered for the both of them. Jim let his gaze fall to the floor, but stayed sitting at attention. “Very well. My husband doesn't respond to Jim anymore. You may call him Janie. Doctor, do you mind if we smoke? You didn't seam to last time.”

“By all means I responded.” I'd let them get comfortable on their own account before accosting their minds. Sue only had to look at Janie and Janie immediately knew what to do. He opened his purse again and removed two cigarettes. A Marlboro for Sue and a Virginia Slim for himself, both retrieved from a ultra-elegant cigarette case. Sue took the cigarette and placed in her mouth and leaned forward while Janie provided the light. When Sue had taken her first, overly deep, drag and exhaled Janie lit her own cigarette and proceeded to smoke the cigarette in the most feminine way I had ever seen. When finished with his slow drag he removed the cigarette, and brought both hands together at the knee. He then slightly tipped his head back and to the side to exhale in a perfect unbroken stream.

At this point, I couldn't wait any longer. I had to see for myself what had transpired over the past six months. I dove into their minds simultaneously and drank in their memories. So as not to bore you, let me only relate the highlights.

The night after their visit with me six months ago is where it all started. After a quiet ride home Sue wasted no time taking charge. She wasn't mean. She wasn't harsh. On the contrary, she was sly. She was manipulative. Sue knew Jim would be like play-doe in her hands so so milked it. She would take her time with her sculpture. She would enjoy every second of the transformation.

As they were getting ready for bed that night Sue began her task. “Jim. I don't like your boxers.”

“Oh. Really? These are a bit old-.” Jim responded a little confused.

“No, no. I mean I don't think you look good in them. They are so...common.”

“Really?” Jim's new set of rules had already started to kick in. What Sue said was almost gospel to him now. “I've always liked them. They are comfortable. But if you don't like them, I suppose I can go buy new ones if you like. They are a bit old and warn now that you mention it.” Jim wasn't quite understanding what Sue was getting at.

Sue smiled as she tried again. “What I mean is, I think boxers in general aren't right for you. They look silly on you. And comfortable? Really? I would think having that much freedom around you penis would be anything but comfortable. After all there is no support for it. You may as well wear no underwear if you are going to wear boxers.”

“Oh. Well, now that you mention it, it is a but weird. My penis flopping around all day. I'll go get some briefs tomorrow. That should be much better.”

“It would, but why waste all that time and money buying new underwear? I have a drawer full of underwear that I never wear anymore.” She walked over to the dresser and pulled out a pair of baby blue bikini panties. “Here, try these. I bet they look great!” Like a good, obedient husband Jim took the panties and put them on. They were tight and made his dick undeniably obvious. It snaked around the front of the panties and up toward the waste band on the right side. It was so tight the underwear hugged his dick like a second skin. Any tighter and they probably wouldn't fit.

Jim saw himself in the mirror and initially blushed. “I dunno, Sue. I think these make me look silly. Plus they are woman's underwear.”

“I think they look great. Sexy even. I bet it is super comfortable too. The silk panties holding your member so snuggly. You should just use my underwear from now on.”

Jim turned a bit and continued to look at himself in the mirror. “Maybe you're right. It is kinda sexy how you see my entire dick.” Jim was sold.

Sue then walked up to Jim and drew a fingernail over the outline of his penis. Naturally, this immediately brought it to attention. Within seconds it was fully hard pinned against his stomach, pointing toward his belly button. “Mmm...” Jill moaned silently. She then whispered into Jim's ear. “Looks like you liked that. That little sensitive spot under your penis head. I bet it would love some attention.” Jim responded positively and Sue continued to use her fingernail to slowly caress the exposed part of Jim's dick. “Do you like that Jim? Does that little piece of skin get you all hot and bothered. What is that part of the dick called? That little piece of sensitive skin? Is it your man-clit? It is kinda like a clit, isn't it, all sensitive? And why not? You're wearing panties after all. It's your special spot isn't it? Your clit. Do you like that?”

“Yes!” was all Jim could muster.

“What do you like baby? What do you want me to keep doing?”

“Keep rubbing me there. It is amazing. Don't stop.”

“Rub you were baby? Rub your ass?” She pulled away a second as if she was going to stroke his ass.

“No, my dick. Rub my dick where you were.”

“I don't know what part you're talking about baby. Rub what part of your dick?” Sue moved her hand to the base of Jim's penis and lightly scratched at it.

“No, higher. By the head.”

“By the head? Does it have a name? Something so I know what you mean?”

Jim was in ecstasy and wanted to cum bad. He gave in. “The clit. Rub the clit part of my dick.”

“Rub your clit?” Sue still didn't move her hand.

“Yea. Rub my clit. It wants to be rubbed.”

“Good boy.” Sue complied and moved her hand back to the exposed part of Jim's dick. Using her fingernail she again stroked the exposed skin. She then led him to the bed and had him lay on his back. She positioned herself on top of his legs and more forcefully rubbed his “clit”. “Talk to me baby. Do you like this?”

“Oh god yes. Rub my clit! Don't stop.”

Sue was not dumb. She used this opportunity to make a new connection. A new link that would forever take hold due to his arousal and previous instructions from me. “You love it when you're clit is rubbed don't you? It gets you so hot and bothered. Nothing feels better than this does it? Your clit is your pleasure spot. I bet you can't cum unless it is being rubbed. You don't have a dick anymore, just your little clitty. So sensitive, so wonderful. You have a clit, and rubbing it is the only way to cum.”

“Rub my clit! Rub my clit baby!” Jim was squirming and moaning like nothing else now. “I'm gonna cum. Don't stop rubbing my clit!” And then Jim was squirting his sperm all over his chest and stomach. Some made it to his chin and neck. And just like that, Jim forever would associate pleasure with that little bit of skin on his dick. His clit.

A lot of what happened next was gradual. With the groundwork in place, Sue built the foundation over the next couple of weeks. Jim threw away his boxers and moved some of Sue's panties to his dresser drawer. They also shopped for new underwear for him. It took little convincing to get Jim to start wearing camisoles to bed. All it took was a little suggestion that the feel of the material was nice, and she liked snuggling up to him while he wore soft materials.

They rarely had sex anymore. And when they did, Jim never came. Typically he would finish himself by rubbing his “clit” against something, as he was now forbidden to use his hands. Often times Sue would mount Jim and grind their clits together until they both came in vocal orgasms.

Next came the bras. By now Jim went out of his way to please Sue, so no more than a hint or suggestion was needed to get him to do things. All sue had to say was “I bet waring a matching bra with your panties would be so sexy on you.” The next day Jim complied and was rewarded with another pussy grind.

Things progressed as things do. Sue would note how cute it was when certain women walked certain ways or how they postured themselves. Jim followed suit and soon started to draw stares in public. This at first frightened poor Jim, but Sue reassured him and used it as a basis for her next step. She said that people are just close minded and expect to see certain things from certain people. That it was dumb, but society was society and Jim should therefore play the part. Since he looked so out of place with his mannerisms paired with his outer features he should just take the plunge and make his dress fit his gestures. That meant dressing as a woman of course. Well girl in Sue's mind.

This was the first time Jim really resisted Sue's conditioning. The resistance was met with rage by Sue. This triggered fear, near physical pain, and an endless stream of tears from Jim. But ultimately Sue won over and Jim complied. His legs and armpits were shaved. His dick tucked away between his legs and his outerwear finally fit the bill. At first it was subtle, but Sue would only let that persist for a bit. Female cut jeans were replaced by slacks, dresses, skirts, and finally mini-skirts and shorts, weather permitting. T-shirts were replaced by baby tees and then tank tops. Tank tops became tube tops and the like. Before long Jim looked to be an over-grown teenager. Sue delighted.

Finally Jim became Janie. All remembrance of Jim was just about gone. Sue got him smoking when she convinced him that she hated doing so alone. The rest is, as they say, history...

"Let's see how is your "little" hubby doin.."

"Hello Mistress..."

"Oh my God! He is so cute!"

"So, girlfriend! Will you be a dear and show us your little "clit"?"

"Wow! How did you do it babe? You totally ruined his body!"

"Look at him! No abs at all! He is so tiny now!"

"OH MY GOD! Look that thing! Is he a doll or what? It's sooo small and cute and adorable!!"

"Don't worry sweety! With a cock like that you can find any girl you want now!"

"Sleep now Jim, like a good girl. And think of whatever you want.."

"I bet he's dreaming about cocks! Isn't he? Look how he's trying to stroke his tiny dick!"

"Of course he is Dr Mathews! He is a cock hungry faggot now!"

"That's my boy! Good job Janie! I can see a tiny drop of cum in your hand!!!"