Scenes from a Marriage

by: Vickie Tern
vickietern@aol.com

10.

They went hand in hand up to their bedroom. Carol stripped off her panties as she watched Carl pull his down and step out of them. His cock sprang up, huge -- for Carl -- and stiff, and deep purple. She stared at it, then suddenly realized he was utterly hairless, legs, arms, everywhere except for a cute pubic patch with a Bikini trim! He really went all the way! she thought. I bet that smooth skin will feel nice on mine! But first, his mouth!

She sat on the edge of the bed, leaned back on her elbows, and spread her legs. There at last was her pink slit! Finally! Fully visible and accessible! Was it tumescent, a little swollen? Carl couldn’t tell any more, it’d been so long!

"I want you, Coral!" was what Carol then said, and Carl needed no further invitation. He fell to his knees between her legs and for the first time in many weeks he plunged his face into her quim and began licking her.

Carol leaned back. Heaven, she was thinking. This is like my loveliest dream come true! "Look up at me, baby," she ordered him. Yes, ordered him, that was her tone. He did it, his huge, shadowed eyes staring up worriedly into hers, as if concerned that he wasn’t pleasing her enough. It was strange, seeing that dark-eyed doll down there looking at her, her mouth and tongue worked furiously against and into her cunt. "Her" mouth, Carol realized she’d just thought. A fantasy come true! Well, well! Yes! But that’s all as it should be, Carol told herself. Her mouth feels so good! Not just because of the pleasure radiating from my pussy, but because I feel in charge! If I tell her, lick, she’ll do it! "Wipe my little button with your nose," she told him. "And breathe deep. Whenever you smell that smell, my smell, I want you to feel so entranced you’ll do anything for me. Anything I may ask you to do!"

"Mmmmf!" Carl replied. He was willing enough! He was more than willing, he was ready for anything, now that he was happily back again in that intimate cleft he loved, tasting and licking his wife’s juices! He felt transported!

"More tongue too!" she demanded. He complied. Carol’s legs tensed and clamped around his neck, and she soon began lunging at him, deep, deep into her first orgasm. Her first in months! And as she looked down at the pretty girl between her legs, her powerful convulsions overwhelmed her! This was right! She’d always felt ambivalent about Carl licking and sucking and servicing her down there, she knew that now! Somehow it wasn’t manly. Her manly dates had never given her oral sex, they’d feel her and finger-fuck her, then plunge those cocks right in! She remembered especially Chuck, one of her first, a hairy, gentle bruiser whose father was a cop, leaning on his elbows on top of her and grasping her tits and fucking away like a horse! Girls suck cunt, guys don’t need to!

But now her hubby’s mouth felt wonderful, because it was right, appropriate! He was a girl! Not Carl but Coral was nibbling and tongue-stroking her. Even more wonderful was anticipating her next move, when she’d sink her cunt onto Coral’s cock and writhe luxuriously on that smooth, hairless body of his, glowing with that delicate faint flowery scent!

So as her all-embracing orgasm subsided she became almost an animal. She had to have it, a penis inside her, feel filled to the brim! It had been so long! "Now lie down! Quick, Coral honey, oh, quick! Yes!" He did. She leaped onto him, straddled his belly, and then with a great sigh lowered herself onto him. From under hooded eyes she watch his helpless, then strained, then eager face change expressions as she plunged and lunged and twisted her crotch on him, faster and faster, and he rose repeatedly to try to sink deep into her from underneath. On and on, until she threw back her head and surrendered her mind, altogether lost in her sensations! Finally Carl came, squirting hot juice into her exactly as she arrived screaming at her second orgasm. "Yes! Yes!" An altogether triumphant experience! Afterward Carl felt marvelous! He lay back and looked at Carol looking down on him, both of them altogether content. He’d do anything for this woman! Whatever she wanted! He did so love her! His penis shrank and slipped out of her.

"Let me look at my new girlfriend some more," she said. "Don’t you just love being a girl?"

Carl wasn’t sure what she meant, what it was he was supposed to love, apart from getting royally fucked, but he nodded. It was time, she thought. So she said it. "Isn’t this much better than kleenex?" she asked. Then just stared at him, mildly but steadily, so he’d know she knew the remark was significant. Carl was startled! She knew! How! He felt a guilty pang in his belly, as if he’d somehow betrayed her and been found out! Carol stared down and considered again how right Maddy had been, telling her to take charge of all his climaxes in order to take charge of him in every other respect. With just a hint that she knew all about his masturbating, she’d made guilt was her ally -- he’d do whatever she wanted to make it up to her! "From now on, you don’t touch your weenie unless I tell you I want you to. And only when I tell you. Understood? Agreed?" Carl heard her with dismay -- he was being asked to deliver his primary private pleasure into her hands, his sole pleasure during all the years of his adolescence. Because once he agreed, he could never ever do it again without her consent. He could never break a promise to her. He nodded. Moreover, here was a new worry. His ‘weenie’? Is that what she thought of him?

Carol knew better, Carl’s size was OK. But she knew instinctively that she needed to maintain her advantage over him. A sense of inadequacy, of shame that he could only offer her a supposedly small penis, that was almost as potent a control device as guilt. "Agreed?"

Carl wasn’t sure to what. That he wouldn’t touch his penis without her permission, or that it was a weenie. He stared at her. "Say it!"

"Agreed!"

"Good!" she said.

And it was done. No more secret masturbating of his little weenie.

No more swimsuit model rivals. She’s be his only fantasy girl.

And maybe a Cosmo model or two, if he was a good boy. A good girl.

She didn’t know why she then asked him to do the next thing she asked him. To make him an even better girl? To humiliate the residual man in him? Merely because she felt she could, and she loved feeling in the ascendancy over him?

"Coral, suck my pussy again!" She spread her legs wider than she’d known she could, her glistening, slippery thighs formed a phalanx, virtually a straight line of massive flesh joined in the center by her oozing pussy slit.

Carl looked. He saw her crotch covered with their juices. A drop of cloudy cum was suspended over her pink, distended pussy lips. She saw it too.

"Lick it off!" she commanded. "Then suck out all of it. On your knees!"

Carl hesitated. He’d licked himself off her face often enough. That seemed only fair when he’d been the one who’d sprayed her face with his slick, salty glop to begin with. But to lick his own spunk out of her pussy seemed ... different. Was it somehow ... demeaning? It shouldn’t be. He hesitated.

"Carol," he said.

"Do it! A girl should always welcome any chance to taste sperm!

You’re no exception!"

He did it. It took him ten minutes of licking and sucking. If that was what she wanted. He didn’t welcome it, but he pretended he was grateful when at last he lifted his head and rested it against her velvety belly. She stroked his hair. ‘Any chance to taste sperm’ was what she’d said, he was thinking. Why did that sound ominous?

They lay there another minute. Carol was altogether pleased with herself. She loved being in charge!

"Now re-do your face, Coral, it’s a mess! A sweet mess, but still, every girl needs to look her best. Don’t use water, start with some of my cleansing cream from the cabinet over the sink. Then come back here and I’ll teach you how to do daytime make-up properly yourself. Do you know how to apply a foundation?" Carl looked baffled. "No," he said. "But Carol, why make-up now? I don’t need to go back to FormFit until tomorrow. And even there the women scarcely use any. Adrienne thought only a little lipstick now and then would be enough to keep anyone from suspecting anything. This hairdo is ample to persuade people anyhow! Why?"

"Because if you’re going to look like a girl you’re going to look your best! No more questions now. I’ll show you how to do your face, and you’ve got to promise me that when we get you all prettied up again you’ll keep yourself that way all day every day." "Carol...!"

"Promise!"

"Carol, I go out sometimes, I need to meet people now and then.

What would anyone think when they see a man who wears make-up?" "That he’s a woman, not a man! Especially if he’s wearing a dress too! That’s my point!"

The way it works out, Carl was thinking, I’ve got to look like a woman anyhow while I’m trapped into this FormFit routine. And until my hair grows out. I can hide from everyone for the next few months I suppose. "Oh, all right, I promise. But Carol ..." "Sweetheart, no ‘buts’! Maddy’s coming over soon, and I want you presentable when she sees you. I also want my whole Garden Club to see what a pretty man I married! What a lovely girl he is now! I’m so proud of you, Coral!"

Carl was stunned, his brain utterly addled. "Maddy?!! Your Garden Club?!! No!!" He was horrified!

She’d expected this of course, and smiled reassuringly. Here was a huge hurdle. Get him past this and the rest would be easy, only a matter of time. She kissed him, but said nothing. "Carol, I’ll be disgraced! I’m a man! I can’t be seen looking like this by anyone who knows me! What will they think of me?!" She spoke sternly. "They’ll think you are what you are! Honey, first of all, this is your house! There’s nothing disgraceful about the way you look! You can be whatever you want to be, and you can look any way you want to look in your own home! I really must insist on this, it’s a lesson you’ve got to learn. Second, I want Maddy to see you and be as proud of you as I am. To see for herself. You know she won’t be shocked or surprised, you know she’s seen lots of boys dressed like girls. And she knows that FormFit is for women, she assumed you’d be willing to change your appearance to fit in, and you have, so there are no surprises there!"

Carl just stared. Carol was delivering an ultimatum, what she considered unanswerable arguments. One after another! "Third, if you need to look like a woman every time you go there, she’s bound to see you this way sooner or later! Fourth, you said it yourself, you worry too much that people might ‘suspect’ that you aren’t a woman. Well, I mean to nip that in the bud! No whispering, no gossip! Let them know you’re a woman! It’s certain that others will see you on the street, that there’ll be neighbors who recognize you. So we need to end all speculation about who you are and what you’re doing. If you need to look like a woman for now, let everyone understand it. They won’t need explanations. That’s that!"

"Carol, can’t I just pretend I’m not Carl but someone else?" You mean pretend you’re your sister of something? It wouldn’t work. People would find out sooner or later. You know a few of my Garden Club friends, and they know you! Should they think that you think looking like a woman is so shameful you need to lie about it?"

Carl reached desperately for an argument, some way to turn this tide of argument back! None! He just stood there, his eyes fearful. "I’m not myself right now. This isn’t who I am!" he said weakly.

"No, but it’s who you’ll have to be for a while," Carol replied. "Just remember, this has all been your choice! Now be a good girl!" She felt so sorry for him! He was resisting so manfully! So inadequately! "Sweetie, it’ll be all right! Be proud and stand tall and you’ll be fine! If you must, just tell the girls that Carl’s gone away and Coral has come to keep me company. They’ll be amused, and it’s true enough. If you must, tell them I want you to do this, and you want to oblige me. Though that seems to me a little cowardly."

His heart in his stomach, Carl considered his predicament. Carol was insistent. Adamantine! Well, I don’t care what others may think of me as long as Carol loves me, he tried to persuade himself. Guys used to think I was gay, or queer, or something, when I was in high school, because I liked being with girls, and I survived that. I’ll survive this. Carol wants it, God knows why. So she gets it. It’ll be my love-offering to her! And she’s right, it’s no one else’s business. When I’m a little stronger and I can cut back on the FormFit sessions I’ll cut back on this too, gradually, and eventually people will forget all about it.

Immediately he felt better. Carol saw, and understood, and was impressed. She leaned over and hugged him, just hugged him, for the longest time. Then whispered, "We’d best get started, baby. This is your grand debut! Be sure to refresh that lovely perfume you’re wearing. That alone’ll persuade everyone that you mean it!" Fifteen minutes later Carl’s face had been made up completely twice over, once by Carol to show him how, and once by himself, adequately, while Carol showed him a few more tricks and praised his efforts. She felt curiously aroused as she watched him spread lipstick over a lower lip still a bit puffed out from its strenuous stimulating of her pussy. It surprised her that she was enjoying this so much! Was controlling a man that intoxicating? It was! She loved it! Even if being a woman wasn’t what Carl really wanted in his heart, though it surely was, even if all this was mere deceit and intimidation and not loving therapy, dominating Carl, especially emasculating him gave her such a sense of power! She understood now why Maddy was addicted to it!

Without touching herself, Carol actually orgasmed! Carl noticed her closed eyes and heavy breathing as he re-capped his lipstick tube. His lipstick now, she gave him to understand. "Never leave home without it!" Would she get so excited whenever he put on his make-up? She was really getting into this! And she was, too. As Carl made himself pretty she once again imagined him down between her legs twiddling her clit with his agile tongue, and that nearly brought her off yet again! She did so love living with curly Coral! How lucky she was that he really wanted to be Coral, too, that he was fulfilled by being Coral, that he was becoming Coral so quickly, with only a little coaxing to help him overcome his inhibitions.

Carl was just slipping into his short suit jacket when the doorbell rang. Carol went down first to answer the door, and he heard her exulting in a loud voice, "Maddy, how nice! Just wait till you see him! He’s really a she! She’s Coral now! My Coral! So very cute! I’m so proud of her! Just what we suspected! My new lovely hubby!"

‘We suspected’? What does that mean? Well, no matter, no going back for now. I’m Coral, I guess. As far as Carol’s concerned, and now Maddy. I don’t understand it. She wants me to pretend I’m a girl even to Maddy? But Maddy knows better! Maybe pretend that I want to be a girl? That must be it. Well, all right. I’ll pretend whatever Carol wants. It’s harmless enough I suppose. But it’s certainly odd. I never knew this about Carol before! It’s an odd kink. But she’s so affectionate now that she’s come out with it!

He recalled how excited she’d gotten just now making love to him. How satisfying it had been for both of them. How she didn’t seem able to get enough of him this way! That wasn’t a bad thing, not at all! Again he considered, what difference did it make what the neighbors think? Apart from Maddy, he owed them nothing! He owed Carol everything, she’d nursed him through so much recently! And he knew what he really was! That was enough. He was Carol’s lover and her husband! And Carol was the best thing in his life, its fulfillment, more than he’d ever dreamed he’d ever have! She wanted this, never mind why! And that was enough! He checked his hair -- quite presentable. You really can comb these curls with your fingers the way Bea said, he thought, patting a stray curl into place. I guess I do look cute.

So Carl descended the stairs graciously, trying to move like a lady, nodding agreeably and smiling a dainty, red-lipped smile as he heard Maddy’s joyous outcries when she saw him. He felt confident enough. He knew his hair was once again as well-groomed as when he’d first emerged from the salon and that his face was now smooth and delicately tinted. He could feel his skirt swish against the fresh nylon pantyhose Carol had loaned him "until you can buy more of your own." It felt customary after a few minutes, even pleasant. Odd.

There was another oddity. "We’ll share our day wear," she’d said as she handed him a whole package of three new pantyhose. "Slips and things like that. But you’ll want to get your own proper hosiery and so on for your own special evenings out." What special evenings? He hadn’t understood, He felt disoriented, half-asleep, his familiar world warped around to an unfamiliar angle. But one can get accustomed to anything. So he told himself. Maddy hugged his shoulders and pressed her cheek against his in welcome, affectionately, girl to girl, the way women do when they don’t want to ruin each other’s make-up. "Welcome, you darling!" she said. "You’re just so courageous, honey!" She asked him a few perfunctory questions, where he’d bought that marvelous suit, it was so becoming, why he’d decided to pierce his ears, did he feel that sure of himself? Or did she? She reassured him that Carol was correct, he could set his hair to curve instead of curl any time he wanted to take the trouble. "I’ve got a perm, but my hair looks more straight and springy than curly!" she told him. "The perm supports it. That’s what holds it in place under the sprays!"

It was strange, Carl thought. He realized that though they’d always been friendly, now Maddy was assuming a congenial intimacy, her manner much closer, more relaxed, more friendly. More woman to woman, sharing her beauty secrets. She seemed to take Coral’s real existence for granted as not at all novel. Coral was an old friend. Carl began to take himself as Coral for granted. He couldn’t help it!

The three of them sat down to lunch. Carol made a few small suggestions, that he remember to sweep his skirt forward underneath his thighs whenever he sat down in a chair, or that he pat not wipe his lips with his napkin to preserve his lipstick through dinner and keep it from staining the napkin. But otherwise he was one of them. One of the girls. It felt good. They swapped gossip about the straying husband of one of their neighbors, and the libidinous habits of the wife of another, and about Talbot’s upcoming annual sale -- Coral would certainly want to take advantage of that, she needed everything! It all seemed very natural and ordinary. And familiar, Carl realized, because it was familiar! But now, instead of being auxiliary to a gathering of girls who talked about such things, as in high school, a hanger-on, he was one of them. He belonged! He smiled to himself. Now he could go to any girl’s pajama party, he realized, and no parent would possibly know or object!

When the women of Carol’s Garden Club arrived he felt only a twinge of embarrassment at the way Carol introduced him. "And this is my husband Carl," she said. "But his name now is Coral. He’s being a woman because he thinks that may be what he is underneath it all. I think it’s wonderful!"

The women all smiled and nodded, and took Carol’s cue, and seemed to find nothing extraordinary in it. Carl sat with them, they listened to the reports they’d met to hear, and they discussed an obscure policy about the plantings recently recommended for their local county Park. He was surprised that they seemed to regard him as only one more woman, one more of them.

For example, during their tea break an elderly woman hesitantly asked him how he spelled his new name, and complimented him on his blouse, where did he find it? She seemed satisfied with his answers, and Carl soon realized that her questions were really only kindly efforts to get acquainted. She advised him, since he was so thin and it was getting on toward summer, he might think about going sleeveless whenever possible, and also wear the tightest pants he could find. "Your waistline’s so thin," she exclaimed. "And you have no hips! You’re so lucky! Do come for coffee some time this week and tell me how you do it!" Other women issued other forms of the same invitation. The effect was to close off for the next week or two what few moments Carl might have found to dress as himself.

To these women, he realized, he was not weird, he was merely a woman who was living with Carol where her husband had formerly lived. Could he shilly-shally back from that, and become a man again? Not easily. And to his surprise, his new identity wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact it was satisfying, in some ways. As with Maddy a new sense of belonging came over him, as if after a lifetime of feeling isolated. Boys had never been pals anyhow because he’d always played with girls, and girls had always held themselves apart subtly, because he was a boy. He recalled the women who’d smiled at him in passing when he was returning home from FormFit and his shopping expedition with Bea. He belonged now to the world’s largest sisterhood!

Above all though, he knew he’d keep doing it because Carol wanted him to do it! Who knows why? Never mind why! He loved her! He’d do anything for her! If she wants me to look and live like a woman, he thought, and obviously that’s what she wants, then I will! I’ll get used to it! There are worse things in life than satisfying your wife!

As he nodded and smiled and said goodbye to his new Garden Club girlfriends -- as Carol referred to them -- and the two of them began to clear away the tea cups and cake plates and bring them back to the kitchen, Carol also felt satisfied with the way the day had gone. Her curly Carl had made such incredible progress toward his own self-fulfillment! In just two days he’d changed his life, found the courage to live his dream! Was it only yesterday she’d lain back in bed in bed watching him pathetically imitate what he could never become, too ashamed to confess that he wanted a body shaped like a woman’s, that he wanted to live a woman’s life? Now he was on the way! And obviously so much happier! She was too! She looked forward to bed-time when once again she and her new girlfriend could kiss and cuddle and do so much more. It was all new and exciting, this sex with her girlfriend Coral! Almost like sex with a stranger! Not like sex with a strange man of course, sex with a woman. And all so very proper -- after all, they were married!

Oddly, the transient idea of sex with a stranger set her tummy aflutter. What a wicked thought! Carl was a sweetheart, a gentle man. But for that very reason sex with him had always been a little like sex with a woman, and now she knew why. She let her memory drift toward some of the more athletic men who worked in her office. She recalled how they moved and loomed as they passed her in the corridor, grinned appreciatively at her. They were always gentle too, like Carl, but with an implication of muscular force, of brute male power under their neatly tailored business suits. As she and Coral finished loading the dishwasher together, it struck her forcibly that there would probably be such a man in her future! Her new Coral was marvelous, but not for everything! If all this continues, she reminded herself, Coral will soon lose her ability to enter me and squirt into me. Maddy keeps reminding me of that! She pondered how men love to squirt and women love making them squirt, and suddenly she realized why it was that Carl was so willing to play that cum-swallowing cock-sucking game with her. Why he’d let her trick him by deliberately withdrawing her mouth from his cock just as he was starting to spurt. It was so he could lick his cum off her face and neck! Why it was that just earlier he’d agreed to suck all of his own slippery stuff out of her cunt. He wanted to! Of course! He’s always been a girl at heart! Like other girls fascinated by cum, that essence of maleness, that life-force, the stuff that sex with men is all about, finally! Girls love to take cum into themselves! They’re born to it!

And Coral does too! Of course! He was born to it! It was a blinding revelation! The girl inside Carl really does love to lick and swallow semen! To absorb it, to make it part of herself! Just as I do! Astonishing! Coral wants to feel that there’s semen inside her, she wants to contain male masculine essence inside her body, just as I do! Not just in his balls! In his tummy! As if he were making a baby! Of course! Well, Carol thought, tonight my Coral will lick up all the cum Carl can produce, all her heart desires! I’ll see to it she provides herself with plenty! And from now on she’ll drink it direct from my mouth and my pussy, not just lick it from my face! She’ll love it! She’ll do it and be glad she did it!

I’d better start thinking about other ways my curly Coral can satisfy this desire of hers, too. Her own cum-producing days are numbered. Slurp up other men’s cum? She won’t want to of course. Not at first, anyhow! But if she loves cum, and she certainly does, she should have it, even if I have to go out and get it for her myself!

I’ll have to discuss this with Maddy.

 

11.

A week or so later Carl learned that he had been set up, that Maddy had called each of the Garden Club membership before coming over, told them what was happening, and cautioned them to treat it as the most routine event imaginable. But by the time he found out, it no longer mattered, since for Carl pretending to be a girl had finally become routine. Carol wanted it, and FormFit insisted on it, and everyone they knew had heard about it and seen it and gotten accustomed to it. More weeks passed.

Carl suggested that he back away from feminine presentation now and then, wear some of his old male clothes again some of the time anyhow. But Carol was so delighted with her new Coral that she wouldn’t hear of it. He was her new sister or daughter or doll! The morning after the Garden Club’s meeting she insisted that Carl wear his bra, panties, and lipstick too to his FormFit class, "A decent girl never leaves the house without at least lipstick," was all she said when Carl told her that most of the women didn’t seem to bother. "And besides, you promised." And that was that.

Soon Carl was checking and fixing his make-up a dozen times a day without even realizing it. There were advantages. With a dash of lipstick and a few strokes of mascara, he was always presentable as a woman. He’d never be identified and stared at as a weird man. Carol insisted that he wear only women’s clothes so he’d get accustomed to them and wear them naturally, unself-consciously, the way women do. He diod. At first he borrowed the things he needed from Carol, and under her direction he learned to dress according to mood and occasion, as women do, delicate or bold, prim or daring, whether for a pizza or a fine restaurant. It began to be fun! Women’s clothes required so much more creativity! No wonder they called them "outfits" and "costumes" and congratulated each other on a striking ensemble or effect! With a better idea what he needed, his shopping trips with Bea became guided expeditions they both enjoyed.

His moods swung to extremes sometimes, from sadness that Carol didn’t seem to appreciate his manhood, what little he had left of it, to simple gratification that for whatever reasons Carol was delighted with him. Especially during that first week, until it all felt natural. That first week he also woke feeling a bit nauseous each morning. Thinking he might be coming down with something, he told Carol, who assured him that it was only his pills, that his nausea would end as his body accommodated to them. It did. He got used to them too. Whether it was the pills or the novelty of his new life, Carl found he felt good about himself. Better than for a long time! Seeing his smile each morning, so did Carol. By that smile, she knew she was doing the right thing! His workouts at FormFit were varied and strenuous -- all of the women were dripping with sweat by the time they finished their sessions, soaked! He loved it, the look, the smell of them, their faces pink and glowing, their eyes dazed with fatigue, their chests heaving, breathing deep as if recovering from sex. He loved all of it! He sat over tea or fruit juice with some of the other girls after class sometimes -- it was an odd privilege to sit at a little table chatting in all propriety with women he’d just seen stark naked. He had a standing appointment at the salon to have his hair set twice a week, curved rather than curled so it would frame his head like a turban or a "toque," that was what Bea called it. But if it went curly some days that was OK too.

One day Carl overslept and missed a session at FormFit. Two hours later he was still in his nightgown and a housecoat when the door chimes sounded. It was that girl with the great rear end, the one Carl always loved watching in motion, Sondra, wearing tights with a bare midriff and huge hoop earrings dangling alongside her tiny face. She was about Carl’s size, yet she seemed smaller, as if staring up at him wistfully, helplessly. She inquired in her piccolo voice whether Carl was ill, or was it just his monthlies? She loved that touch of lace on his neckline, and was there anything she could do to help him? It seemed that Callista had posted his picture just as she’d promised or threatened to do, and Sondra lived just on the next street, wasn’t that a remarkable coincidence? "You must come over and use our swimming pool now that the weather’s turned warm," she added. "I’ll bet you look great in a swimsuit!"

The whole time, Sondra’s eyes never wavered from Carl’s -- she was one of those girls who was pert and cute, and knew it, and used it for her own purposes. He wondered if she was coming on to him in some strange way, but decided she was just accustomed to coming on that way to everyone. He thanked her and told her she was so very sweet, and reassured her that no, he’d be back working out with the girls again tomorrow, he’d just felt like lying in this morning, you know. Sondra illuminated the doorway with an enormous smile -- she knew. "Do drop by my place," she repeated. "Lots of the girls from our exercise class do!" As the door closed Carl knew that Callista had meant what she’d said. FormFit was his morning activity, and the girls werea tight community. He’d never had a real choice. But now Sondra too was his special friend. They chatted while they did their Nautilus routines, and sometimes they met for a light breakfast at Denny’s before beginning their workout. Sondra called on him for help now and then when her computer was misbehaving, and while he was there she chattered constantly. She always seemed to be changing her outfits, from cutoff shorts to miniskirts to clingy tights, always in front of him, talking away un-self-consciously. He had plenty of opportunity to notice that her rear end was as round and enticing naked as it was when tucked into her leotard. He was sure she wore short shorts in order to expose the lower curves of her luscious bottom to the world.

She soon insisted on telling him all about the evenings, whole nights sometimes when her husband was away, that she spent with various men. It strengthened her marriage to see them, she said, it compensated for a husband who was perfectly fine, really sweet, but so very boring in bed! "My guys, that’s what I call them, they all poke me in my behind!" she told Carl, marveling at the uniformity of their desires. "And I let them, because as I tell them my pussy is my dear husband’s, and no other man’s, and I’m faithful to my poor sweet dear. But my asshole is all mine to use any way I like! No one ever said anything about it when we first got married, there’s no promise to forsake all others back there. So that’s where my other men entertain me. Have you ever?" Carl wasn’t sure what she meant at first, but quickly realized she meant had he ever admitted a man’s prick into his backside. He told her no.

"Oh, you must!" Sondra exclaimed. "You really must! It’s so strange at first, but it’s so very satisfying, getting fucked back there! Even a normal-sized man fills you up, and most men can’t manage to do that in the other place, you know? And the heavy swingers, well, my dear, you can’t imagine what they’re like once they’re inside you! I know now why gay men love it so much! Let me fix you up with a lovely man I know, he has the longest, thinnest dick you’ll ever see, its just perfect for the first time! Not too much strain and it takes him forever to slide all the way in and then out again! You’ll just love it! Next Saturday?" Carl declined. He explained that his spouse wouldn’t approve. "Oh, some men are so old fashioned!" Sondra was disappointed but understood. She thought Carl needlessly concerned. How would her spouse ever know? Carl could so easily have it both ways! As the weeks passed he and Bea often went shopping together, and when Carol got home Carl would show her his prizes -- she always wanted him to try on each item, and she noticed how pleased he was with each, increasingly week by week! She approved his taste, asked often about Bea, and finally pre-arranged an accidental meeting of the three of them in a tea room. They got on well. Carol and Bea agreed that their protegee Coral was dressing much more stylishly now, she was much more attractive, and they agreed that it was a great step forward for her to be voicing fashion opinions of her own!

It was true, Carl was! Confronted by the need to choose a different "costume" for different kinds of social occasions, Carl on his own subscribed to several women’s magazines, and when they came in he read them carefully, cover to cover, advertisements and all. "I like knowing what I’m doing" he told Carol when she asked him why so many. That was what made him so effective professionally too -- his firm gave him work he could do at home, and he did it deftly. Carl was pleased that different women were plotting a more attractive look for him and a more variegated life. But increasingly he exercised his own ideas about how to look attractive. "I have to be my own woman!" he found himself saying. A peculiar thought struck him one day as he glanced over a new Cosmo. Women dress to satisfy themselves and impress each other, and most women’s magazines understand this, but they also dress to look attractive to men, and some specialize in this! Article after article in Cosmo was given over to teaching women how to look seductive, of course, but what they were really talking about was various ways for them to seduce men! He learned to mimic that behavior, discreetly of course, since that was what women do. Women enjoy harmless flirting, and even the most respectable women enjoy wearing bikinis and tight clothes if they have the figures for it. They’re proud to show that they can look sexy. So Carl felt a little pleased with himself that he too could look and behave just a little bit sexy too.

He realized though that this was one way he remained apart from other women. "Other" women, he realized he had just thought. After a month or so, he couldn’t tell the difference, and Carol clearly didn’t want to know that there was a difference. He had no desire to please men, nor to fantasize an attractiveness to men. In fact he knew that getting physically close to one of those hairy things in an amorous way would be faintly repellent. Should he try to think the way a Cosmo girl thinks when she’s dressing for a date? He didn’t feel he was woman enough for that. Though he was delighted to be woman enough for Carol.

Bea and Carol began to see each other apart from Carl, and regretted together that their new Coral wasn’t more visible, that she was a stay-at-home, that she wasn’t flashing her figure and turning heads downtown. So a few times the three of them scheduled shopping in the better downtown department stores, to reassure Coral that she was as appropriately and fashionably dressed as any other woman to be seen anywhere on the streets. Carl was uneasy about it, their first trip especially, fearing that they’d run into some of his old business associates. This made for problems, Carol realized. He objected whenever they proposed such trips. Carol found though that if Carl quit his job and worked instead as an outsourced consultant, he’d have all the work he could handle -- and Carol could send him work from her division too. So he did just that. No more need to meet his former associates as a woman one day and perhaps a man the next. No more need to be a man at all any more, Carol reminded him at breakfast a month later, just before she went off to work. That evening she packed his menswear for donation to the Salvation Army. He watched wistfully as the big truck carried it all off. But he no longer felt apprehension about some inevitable day when his office mates would identify Coral as Carl, be amused or appalled, and mock him as pussywhipped or faggoty. He was pussywhipped, he knew that! He just wanted to please Carol, the one important person in his whole life!

Carol meanwhile knew better. It wasn’t to please her, not at all, it was that her Carl was a genuine pussy in his own right, that it was his own femininity finally emerging! Though his willingness to let it through was an act of submission that could reflect his love for her. Carol wanted no conflicting thoughts in her husband’s head as he shifted his identity over from Carl to Coral. That was why she saw to it that he was never not Coral. Carl once asked her why she wanted him feminine at all times, never allowing him to wear even his women’s tight blue jeans. "So as not to confuse anyone, including you" was her frank answer. Then there was another development. One evening Bea called to invite Carl to a movie with her, a chick flick with lots of weeping, her husband would never understand it and didn’t want to go, would Coral? Phone in hand, Carl asked Carol if he should. Go out with another woman? They’d never gone anywhere separately before! Carol looked up and realized that this was a key moment in their life together, a perfect opening wedge for all sorts of things that must inevitably follow. She commented carefully but casually that there was no reason Coral shouldn’t develop an independent social life with her own friends, women did that, why not? Then she returned to the novel she was reading as if altogether unconcerned.

But as soon as Carl left the house, she got on the phone with Maddy and they talked for a long time. Maddy congratulated her, she’d set a precedent. This would free her for her own personal social activities too, when she felt ready. They discussed ways Carol could press her advantage.

A few days later when Carol had to work late on a quarterly report for her division, a few women from the Garden Club called Carl to propose a spontaneous girls’ night out, dinner, a movie, and a cappucino afterward, maybe a drink. Carol urged Carl to go even though she couldn’t. Carl did, and he enjoyed himself -- again it was like old times, but this time he felt fully accepted, really one of the girls. He told Carol this and Carol was delighted. "Don’t feel tied down to me, honey," she told him. "Feel free!

There’s a whole new world out there for you!" The next night Maddy invited them both to join her for drinks and quiet chat, but Carol still had to finish her report. Carl went. Maddy was all smiles. She told Carl that he was obviously much happier being a woman than he’d ever been as a man, and she’d noticed that Carol was certainly happier. Carl reluctantly agreed, about Carol anyhow, though he confessed he liked belonging to the communities of companionship women seem to form so easily. Maddy nodded, and told him he should seriously consider becoming a woman for good when his health fully recovered, if only for Carol’s sake. If he shifted back, he’d greatly disappoint her. Probably she’d feel guilty that in some way she’d failed him. At this Carl grew solemn. He had no answer. "Think of it this way, Coral" Maddy told him in a firm, assured voice. "In some ways you two have been good for each other, but in some ways you’ve been holding each other back. You’d like to think of yourselves as a couple, exclusive to each other. But it’s better to be two friends who live together and enjoy each other’s company and lots of other people’s company too. Then each of you can feel free to become most fully yourselves." That wasn’t Carl’s idea of marriage, but he tried to respond politely. "I’ll tell Carol you said that, and see what she thinks," he said.

"Oh, don’t bother," Maddy said, delighted with the opening. "It’s Carol who told me that. Just thinking aloud, I’m sure. But as a man, haven’t you been holding her back in some ways? As a woman, haven’t you liberated her? Carol hasn’t had the heart to tell you, so I’m telling you."

Carl stared at her and said nothing.

"And you yourself," Maddy said. "I know Carol’s the one woman in your life, in fact she’s been the only woman in your life. Have you ever considered including other women now that you’re more comfy, with them? Real ones I mean, not pictures in magazines?" Carl looked down, but still said nothing. Then looked up and said solemnly, "I’m true to Carol. I took a vow."

"Yes, I know. A declaration of intentions at the time. But are you true to her from principle, or is it just from shyness, inexperience maybe? Whatever, you are certainly holding Carol back ." "From what?" Carl began to feel antagonistic. Also alarmed. "From other experiences, the fullness and richness life provides, maybe? Let me put it this way. She’s known other men, she knows what she’s missing. You’ve known only one woman, and you live as a woman now. As Carol sees it, she lives with a woman. But that’s not fair and equal. Shouldn’t you be going with a man? Or shouldn’t she? That’s not forbidden by your vow." Carl was appalled. He said nothing!

"Carl, let me assure you," Maddy said, walking him toward the door.

"For a woman, a man can be quite something! For Carol or for you! Think about it!" That’ll put a bee in his bonnet, she said to herself, amused. Or get the other bees buzzing! That night when he and Carol were undressing for bed, he found he didn’t have the heart to ask her if he was holding her back, if that was what she now believed. She sat on the edge of the bed and smiled at him and spread her legs, and as was now his nightly custom, still in his bra and panties he knelt silently between her knees to lick her. She didn’t feel like a fuck that night, she then told him. "Since you love kleenex, sweetie, come make love to some instead, but this time with my blessing." She held up a handful, and as he watched unhappily she wrapped it around his dick and massaged him gently until finally he spurted into it. "Open wide," she said smiling, and she stuffed the soaked tissues into his mouth. "Maybe the best way will be to suck these until they disintegrate, then swallow them down," she said. "Little by little, no hurry, baby!" That done, she turned to snuggle her rear into him and go to sleep.

He wasn’t consoled that the whole time she was considerate, warm, even friendly. Not really loving, though -- she seemed instead to be a little bit amused by his need. He wished that they’d coupled.

Other women from FormFit rang Carl up now and then and carried him off to movies or gallery openings. He had a regular after-session shopping and luncheon date with Bea on Wednesdays. Sondra took him to hear a hot new group playing at a gay bar, then took him there again a few times more, because there they could drink and dance without anyone hitting on them. "Though remember what I told you about opening your back door to strangers," she said. "Nothing in any marriage contract I ever saw says you can’t do that!"

Carl now felt like only one more female face in the crowd. Carol seemed to be working or uninterested in diversion much of the time, and Carl’s new friends were importunate. So, though at first he’d felt uneasy, Carl began to feel that going out on the town with other women and not with his wife was an ordinary event. As Carol herself repeated, there was no reason he shouldn’t have his friends and she shouldn’t have hers.

True to her word, a few weeks later Carol also began going out evenings without him, sometimes offering only the vaguest of explanations. Carl no longer felt he had a right to inquire, but he worried when she came home late. He noticed that once she arrived back after midnight with her face a little flushed and her hair a little tousled, saying nothing. In fact she’d been at Maddy’s and had frazzled herself deliberately at Maddy’s suggestion just before returning home, to accustom Carl to it. Nothing had happened, and Carol still hadn’t decided if anything would ever happen, yet. But the next day she told Carl she’d gone to a bar with two girlfriends, and there’d been men there who were rather insistent, and one had gotten a little physical before the bartender could intervene. Carl felt angry but helpless, Carol saw with satisfaction.

She went off without him every few days, sometimes with one of their friends come to call, sometimes leaving the house with a bare comment that she wouldn’t be out too late. Or she might be out rather late. Carl just sat at home repairing his nails after their day’s clatter at his computer, washing and setting his hair on days when the salon at FormFit didn’t, wondering why she didn’t ask him to come along. "Doing things, different things, you know" was all she’d answer when he asked where she’d been. She always smiled warmly at him when she left and smiled even more warmly, even affectionately, when she returned, so whatever she did, it wasn’t threatening to their relationship, he assumed. Apparently she came back pleased with herself for reasons he couldn’t fathom, and wanted him to share that pleasure. But she never quizzed him about his own afternoons or nights out without her, so he didn’t feel he could quiz her. They were as affectionate as ever in bed, and often they went out together just as before. But often not. When the two did go out together or invite anyone in, it was usually Carol’s women friends. They now felt comfortable with Carl being a woman, one of them, no problem. Yet when they brought their husbands along it was obvious that the husbands knew nothing about Coral’s prior history. Coral to them was the woman who lived with Carol. So it was Carl who felt uncomfortable as the men made polite, chivalrous social conversation with him, occasionally flirting with him by way of a compliment. He’d never had guy friendships, and this kind of relating to males was altogether unfamiliar. Especially responding to their flirtatious mannerisms! "Just flirt back," was Carol’s laconic reply when they’d invited three such couples to their own home for a small dinner party, and Carl mentioned that talking with other men nowadays was difficult for him. "You don’t mean ‘other men’ anyhow. Maybe that’s your problem. You aren’t a man any more, baby, you’re a woman. So be a woman with them! Watch me and do what I do!" Her tone was so matter-of-fact he let it pass. She’d meant it as a compliment, that he was no longer a man in her eyes. In some ways she was right. Look how he was dressed! He persisted. "I still don’t feel quite right talking to guys, Carol. What can I say to them? Talk sports, like before? I don’t dare, it could give me away! And that would embarrass both of us." "Oh, honey, every girl learns that kind of thing long before she’s out of her teens! Don’t your magazines tell you? Don’t you read the ‘Tips on Dating’ columns and the "Turn him on, turn him off" articles?"

"Maybe. Some." Carl was ashamed to admit that he did read them fascinated by the trade secrets they revealed one after another. "I know what’s in them, all the girls I knew in high school used to talk about them. They all advise a girl to stare wide-eyed at a man and ask him what he does, what he’s good at, and then ask him more questions, how he feels about it. Tell him it all sounds so exciting, and ask what was his most thrilling moment, and his most scary, and so on. Whatever he answers, sound fascinated. And they tell you to wriggle your hips just a little as you tell him it’s all so very fascinating, as if you were getting off on it." "That sounds about right. So do it. Flirt back, just a little.

Can you do that, lover? What you just described? Hips and all?"

"Yes. Sometimes I do just that."

"Well then, do just that. And use your eyes and hands too. And when you dance with a man, try a little innuendo, a little racy conversation."

"Carol! I can’t dance with a man!!"

"Sweetheart, it’s gonna happen! You’re getting there! You’re looking more feminine every day, your figure is filling in, and you’re softening in your appearance. Men are going to take an interest! Before too much longer if you dance close with a man and he presses his body against yours he’ll never be able to guess what you once were! He might even be quite pleased! Maybe you too!" Carol smiled, inviting Carl to share her amusement at the thought, as if she were teasing.

"Carol! That’s quite enough!" Carl was horrified! His stomach turned. And whatever did she mean by ‘before too much longer’? Carol saw the alarm in his eye, realized she’d gone too far again, and retreated. "I’m sorry, honey, I was just joking. But that’s what to do when men get playful with you. Some men don’t know how to be anything else with a woman. And they do think you’re a woman, remember!"

So she gave him a few useful hints she’d cribbed once from a "Good Housekeeping" column advising women how to be delightful hostesses. Carl felt more comfortable being gracious instead of flirtatious, and from then on their dinner parties with couples went off without incident. He came to enjoy them in fact. It was justification of sorts to be able to talk animatedly with men after all the years when no man would have anything to do with him. Now they were trying to impress him! After a while he took to staring into their eyes and wriggling his hips whenever he asked them to talk about themselves. It became habitual.

Husbands sometimes mentioned Coral’s provocative moves to their wives, and their wives then mentioned them to Carol. They were unsure what her husband, or rather her new live-in girlfriend, might mean by them. Was Carl actually getting interested in men?

"Oh, it’s all harmless," Carol reassured them. "I’m sure! At least," she’d add wickedly, "It has been so far!"

 

12.

But Carol wasn’t sure. Every day Carl’s femininity grew stronger, as it should. She suddenly realized that despite his innocence Coral might well reap what she was releasing in Carl. He might actually get romantically interested in men. There was no sign of it so far, except maybe for those wriggling hips. Should she encourage or discourage him? A whole new set of questions she and Maddy discussed endlessly. ""You have to let him find himself," Maddy told her over and over. "We all have to move on!" Gradually Carol accepted that whatever would be would be. Maddy reassured her. "It could even help if he got a crush on a man, Carol," she commented one day. "Remember your first crush, how it made you feel?" Yes, Carol had to admit. It had been marvelous. Christopher, that wonderful boy. The first cock she’d ever sucked, oh so timidly, his crotch still hairless as a baby’s. And the whole rest of that summer? She’d never been so glad she was a girl!

What Carol said about Carl’s figure filling in was true. As more weeks passed, Carl noticed that his shape was indeed shaping up, but not at all as he’d hoped. He saw in his locker one day that Callista given him a leotard with additional elastic in back to hold up and shape his now-enlarged buns. When he caught a glimpse of his rear in the mirror one day he saw why -- his rear end was like Sondra’s, two globes flaring out beneath a waist that was skinny as ever! But now the word was "tiny" because below, his hips had grown quite broad. His wardrobe was now filled with the tight pants and skirts Bea recommended. "Ya got ‘em, flaunt ‘em!" Bea often told him as they walked through a mall. And swing your hips more, girl! It’s good for the abs!" Carl soon noticed men looking back at his rump as they walked by. It was disturbing, yet also oddly satisfying! Maybe that was how a hunky figure began?

But his chest was softening too -- his bras now held shapes that were decisive. Callista worked with him on his upper body, and his pectorals seemed to develop as if he were growing boobs! In fact, he wondered why they looked like boobs! They hurt all the time. His nipples were deliciously sensitive, each day stretching into larger circles with thicker stubs centered in them. Inexplicable! Why wasn’t his growth spreading across his whole chest, so he’d look manly?

Callista told him to wait, people grow as they grow, he was developing nicely. He insisted that his enlarged pectorals were soft, that shouldn’t be, he needed more exercise! So one morning, with a quiet smile, she told him she’d booked him for a consultation with Sergei.

It was the strangest experience of his life. Sergei was massive, with a thick neck supporting a mop of straw-colored hair and a flashing smile he obviously thought devastating. Maybe it was. "All right, little lady," he said when Carl entered his weight room. "Callista tells me you aren’t satisfied with the way your chest is growing. Just sit that cute bottom on this massage table for a moment and tell me, what’s the problem?" Carl hopped up on the fixed, leather-padded table, and sat there, swinging his legs. Sergei suddenly was standing close in front of him and leaning in. One tree-like thigh was practically between Carl’s legs. Carl spread his knees a little to avoid touching it, and Sergei visibly smiled. Another conquest, so soon? He edged closer, both thighs between Carl’s legs now.

Carl told him what was wrong in a quaking voice -- the physical power this man radiated was enormous! "I’m growing these ... growths on my upper body. They aren’t muscles. They’re soft." "Really? Show me!"

Carl slipped his leotard off his arms. His new breasts -- they were that now, though only orange-sized behind his huge nipples -- hung down! Carl was intensely embarrassed for some reason. He felt naked, and he hunched his shoulders together as if that would hide them.

"Beautiful, little lady. And what’s wrong with them?" "Should they be this ... concentrated? Shouldn’t they be more spread out?"

"Perhaps. Feel mine. Put those dainty fingers on my shoulders and then run them across my chest, and tell me what you feel." He leaned way forward, smiling encouragingly. A little mischievously too, Carl thought. And did his legs force Carl’s knees apart just a bit more?

Carl began to regret this consultation. It was uncomfortable, touching this huge man’s bare, massive shoulders and chest. Carl couldn’t help but notice how his own beautifully manicured fingertips, with their rich-rust-colored, jewel-like nails, danced over Sergei’s rippling musculature. He stroked Sergei’s bare skin delicately. "You’re hard there!" he said shyly. "And here too. You’re like slabs of rock."

"And now?" Sergei suddenly allowed his pectoral muscles to go slack. The huge mountains of meat fell forward toward Carl. Carl leaned back to move his face away -- they were almost in his mouth! Now Sergei was leaning over Carl like an ardent lover, Carl leaning way back propped on his elbows, staring up into Sergei’s face helplessly, unable to move.

"Kiss me!"

Carl did. He had no choice! On Sergei’s curved lips. He actually kissed a man! Sergei moved up, and his huge pectoral muscle sloped toward Carl’s mouth.

"Again!"

There was Sergei’s flat nipple. Carl kissed it too. He felt stiff rigidity behind it, as if he were kissing the end of a football. "You aren’t at all like that, are you?" Sergei said. "Now lie back flat" Carl did, flat on his back, eyes round and fearful. Sergei’s chest muscles retreated into dense masses again as he picked up a small bottle of perfumed oil and his huge hands began to knead Carl’s shoulders, then up and down his slender rib cage, and finally they cupped and squeezed and caressed and oiled Carl’s newly-rounded breasts. Repeatedly. A thumb now and then touched each erect, straining nipple as if by accident, and Carl each time felt a jolt of pleasure flash like lightning down into his crotch! "Wrap me around my waist with your legs, little lady! Try to crush me! Pull me toward you! Let me feel the strength of your thighs!" Carl did. Now he could feel Sergei’s package in its red Speedos pushing against his open crotch, against that place where his penis and balls were folded down. Sergei nudged him there, then again. It was as if Sergei was standing there fucking him, his hands kneading Carl’s chest growths while he fucked Carl’s invisible cunt.

All the while Carl lay back on the massage table and clamped Sergei closer with all the strength in his legs. Groaning! Not in ecstasy, in terror! Carl tightened his leg muscles around Sergei’s waist in a vain effort to keep Sergei from raping him all the while Sergei relentlessly stroked and caressed and fondled his tits. Because that’s what they were! Tits! Carl was shocked to realize there was no denying it!

Sergei seemed to know what he was thinking. "See?" he said. "Yes! Woman’s chests and man’s chest are different. But if you want, I will teach you to love the way your chest is developing. No extra charge!"

Sergei suddenly stepped back, and the consultation was over. The huge man now merely smiled helpfully as Carl covered his exposed breasts with his hands while trying to slip back into the upper section of his leotard. He glanced down at the Sergei’s red Speedo trunks. The bulge there was huge! He looked up at Sergei, frightened. Had it been a near thing? Sergei smiled enigmatically!

"I have breasts!" Carl told Carol that night when she got home from work. "Not pectoral muscles, breasts!":

Carol had been noticing for some time, of course, but saying nothing. She already knew about his session that morning with Sergei. Sergei had reported it to Adrienne, who had phoned Maddy, who’d called Carol so she’d know what to expect when she got home, and could plan how to deal with it.

"Really?" Carol had said disbelievingly. "He kissed Sergei? My Carl?"

"Twice!" Maddy had assured her. "While Sergei was caressing his tits. There’s a real woman in him somewhere, Carol! There’s something going on in him you’ll want to watch!" So when Carl announced that he had breasts, Carol merely looked up as if amazed and delighted.

"Really? Lovely! Come upstairs this moment and show me!" They went into their bedroom and stripped naked. Carl lay back on the bed with his legs over the side and Carol leaned over him, exactly as Sergei had done. Without thinking, Carl again spread his legs and gripped her waist with them.

"Do you think they’re from wearing my bras all the time?" he asked. Carol ignored the question. She felt him gently, kneading his small, soft protrusions with affection. "They’re not very generous," she said as if surprised and delighted, even awed. "But they’re very cute!" She leaned forward to kiss one. Then to suckle on it. Then she lay down on top of her hubby and began to nurse. Carl went into an exalted trance, and as she continued to suck him, he began to moan. There was no further discussion. Carol thereafter saw to it that he was delighted to have them, if also too embarrassed to discuss it.

Carol didn’t seem to notice or care that what was growing on his thin frame was more suitable for a woman than a man. Perhaps, he thought, it’s because she has this weird notion that I’m a woman, so somehow it’s all normal. Each time she made love to them her tongue would flick one of his thickened nipples, and he’d squeeze his legs even more tightly around her waist. Another few licks and he came! He orgasmed from the sheer joy of it, all the while making small helpless whining cries.

His cum would spread all over Carol’s tummy and breasts! She crept up wordlessly to allow Carl to lick his own cum off her, and as he did so she smiled to herself. There was nothing further he could say. He decided his breasts were a side effect of one of his medicines, and would disappear in due course. Not worrisome. As Carl’s pectoral growths continued to grow larger, the more tender they felt and the more time Carol spent nursing on them. And the more she nursed on him, the more he loved it. Soon, regularly, every night, he’d enclose her head in his arms, feeling infinitely tender as he looked down on her. There she was, her eyes shut, peaceful, seemingly asleep except that her lips were working slowly on his alarmingly enlarged nipples. It was heaven! So beautiful! Often they fell asleep that way. It felt as exquisitely erotic for his nipples to slip in and out of her mouth as his penis had felt when sliding slowly inside her moist mouth or her slick pussy.

Which wasn’t much happening much any more. And gradually stopped happening altogether!

Carl didn’t feel troubled the first time he failed, the first night his thing wouldn’t grow stiff enough to penetrate Carol. It happens. Carol seemed untroubled, and immediately bent down to bring him off with her mouth even though he remained soft. She suckled his cock as if it were one of his nipples, only bigger. Then she pulled back as he came and spurted on her face! Two points for him! It was an odd sort of soft orgasm, throbbing, not pumping, spreading out into a luscious, voluptuous, warm yearning he could feel all through his midriff, deep inside his chest and down his legs! Even in his erect nipples -- they at least had no problem getting stiff!

He watched as his cum spurted -- dribbled, rather -- onto her cheeks and nose and chin, and saw for the first time that it wasn’t cloudy any more, it was clear. He commented on the fact. Carol’s response was to close her eyes and lift her face dreamily to be licked. He licked it. It tasted clear, thin, more sweet than salty. Not unlike Carol’s juices. "Mmmmm," was all she said when he told her that, smiling as if congratulating him. The next few times she brought off his limp penis with her mouth, she told him it tasted all the more delectable for being clear. She insisted on sharing it with him, first some then all of it, collected and held in her mouth and then slowly, sweetly licked and spooned into his with her tongue. "You love it too," she told him in a tone of voice that allowed no contradiction. "You told me so. Girls do! Isn’t it delicious? My girl-man!"

Her suckling of his new breasts together with her soft blow jobs was enough to meet his needs for a while. His desire for sex was mysteriously diminishing anyhow. He wondered what was happening to his body. Did pretending to be a woman change a person’s body and desires that much?

He confided this question to Carol one day when he’d been impotent for several months with no improvement in sight, and had been reading with a certain nostalgia an article in his magazine "Miss Behave!" about five ways a girl can prolong her lover’s erections. Could his pills be responsible? He’d noticed that she’d stopped taking hers with him each morning, but always oversaw his taking them.

She shrugged, though she knew the fault was indeed Carl’s hi-test hormone pills, and she felt a slight pang at the deception. But it was all for his own good!

Then she told him he was mistaken, that she was still on the pill. Really, back on the pill. She didn’t tell him that when his semen first turned clear she’d stopped taking hers -- she’d gotten his juice tested, he was no longer making sperm, all risk of pregnancy had ended, it was no longer necessary. She’d then begun crumbling hers into his breakfast cereal to help speed things along. His face broke out and he got nauseous again, and his nipples doubled in size within two weeks!

Maddy cautioned her against overdoing it. "He’s coming along nicely," she said. "Give him a chance to get accustomed to each new development. You’ve noticed that he hasn’t objected strenuously, he doesn’t really seem to mind? Were we right or weren’t we?"

She also hinted that Carol might some day regret being off the pill. "You never know," Maddy said, though she did know, and she suspected Carol knew too.

Carol considered this advice and resumed taking them, and Carl’s complexion cleared a few days later. His nipples remained fat though, she saw, and Carol noticed for the first time that the force-feeding had somehow rounded his face. It was no longer angular but soft. Feminine, that was the only word for it. Made up to go out, Carl looked like a pretty girl and no way a man! Neither in body nor face. Only in mind.

Maddy agreed. One Saturday while Carl was off twisting his new torso and shaking his bootie at a FormFit dance-a-thon Maddy sat Carol down for a serious talk. "Look here!" she said. "He’s a lovely man! A lovely girl, now. I think you can be pleased with the way things are going. And proud of him, the way he’s adjusted. But he’s on one of those plateaus I mentioned. You’ve certainly noticed that there’s been no progress for weeks now. Your Carl is neither here nor there."

Carol had noticed.

"It’s time for him to go further, to cross the line," Maddy sounded quite firm. "What good is he to you now as a man? None! What good is he to himself as a woman? None!"

It was true. Carol considered how her husband was loitering between two worlds, physically a man but unable to function as one, living as a woman but unable to function as one, and she had to agree.

"I’ve been thinking," Carol said slowly. "How unfair it is that Carl’s deprived. He did kiss Sergei, that time. And I know he has a woman’s special feeling about a man’s sperm. You know how we love to feel it inside us, swallow it, keep it snug and safe in our vaginas, the lengths we go to get it spurted into one or another of our openings. It’s so primal, that desire. I suspect Coral feels that way! She’s always been willing to lick it off me, share it, swallow it. I’ll bet it’s more than that with her." She thought about the game they’d play with his cum, scoring points. "But now he doesn’t make enough. He doesn’t spurt at all, he only trickles, or maybe oozes."

Maddy saw where Carol was going. "You miss feeling real cum inside you?"

"Yes." It was a bald confession! She tempered it. "I’m sure Carl does too!"

"Tell me about it," Maddy replied. "Shouldn’t you be thinking about collecting semen from somewhere else for both of you? Or sending him to do it?"

Carol just stared at her.

"Isn’t it time you started that phase of his training? Taught him to appreciate that you have needs, and taught him how to care for his own?" Maddy saw that her friend was thoughtful, not really shocked. Carol is so hard up, she thought. Well, of course she would be! How long would I wait to get laid if I were her? It’s time!

In fact, it was past time. When Carl first went utterly impotent, Carol had felt guilty about what she was doing to him, a little, but she’d also felt deprived of his services. It was a sacrifice, she made it gladly for his own good. And there were advantages. She loved his new, smooth, hairless body, and their rapturous sessions with each other’s breasts, and she loved seeing her sweet baby’s huge eyes and cute hairdo lodged between her legs as his mouth worked each night to bring her into a state of bliss. But still, she did miss the way he’d once felt inside her! She wanted to get fucked! She missed knowing that a man was taking his pleasure from her by pleasuring her! Worst of all, now that Carl couldn’t get into her at all she was deprived of her favorite fantasy, unable to pretend to herself that Carl’s gentle prick was really the stiff pole of a high-powered, muscle bound, bucking stallion of a he-man thrusting and pounding into her. Could their marriage survive this half-way condition?

Carol and Maddy talked these things through and finally arrived at a plan. It had several stages, nothing to freak Carl out altogether, but enough to carry him a long way further toward complete womanhood. Many things make women glad to be women, but highest among them is romance, any girl’s birthright, the dreamy anticipation of loving, sexually satisfying relationships. Carl needed sex re-education. He needed to learn to dream, to desire.

There was so very little further to go, but he had to go there to get anywhere else.

 

13.

So hesitantly at first, Carol took the first step. She proposed to Carl that he try using a dildo to satisfy her.

Carl was deeply disturbed by the idea. In fact he was plunged into despondency. He was already unhappy that the only penile pleasure he got any more was from her mouth, and also unhappy that the only genital pleasure he could give her these days was from his mouth. A dildo seemed a capitulation to his incapacity, a confession that their marriage had failed. A second hand substitute for the real thing.

"Oh, no baby!" Carol cried, leaping to comfort him. "It would prove that we want to satisfy each other’s deepest needs, and it would help us do just that, that’s all!" But she was thinking even as she said it that he was right, their marriage had in fact failed, or nearly so. It wasn’t her fault -- she wasn’t the one who wanted to become a woman, he was. And he couldn’t help it! It was a fundamental -- if not exactly common -- incompatability. But still, they needed to do something! She needed a man, and he needed to learn about men! Finally, between kisses, when her soft mouth was wrapped snug around his soft penis and she was sucking sweetly on it, he agreed to try using a dildo on her. She felt relieved. It was a beginning. She knew how she hoped it would end.

She brought one home, huge, an excellent replica of a prizewinning cock, made of soft rubber, hollow so it could be pre-heated and filled with a sperm-like fluid for squirting when the time came -- the booklet recommended warmed Gatorade or thinned, lightly salted yogurt if it was to be swallowed afterward, hair conditioner if not. Carl strapped it on and then used it to hump her after his usual preliminary session with his face between her legs, feeling vaguely the whole time that he was encouraging his own rival to fuck Carol, guiding someone else’s cock into his own wife’s pussy. Carol insisted that it be loaded with the yogurt mixture. "I want you to enjoy what I enjoy!" she told him.

But that cock worked as his never had, he had to admit it. The experiment was altogether successful! Carol hadn’t expected the feeling at all, but as soon as that fat, veined tube stretched her lower lips open and pushed deep into her, as soon as her vagina was distended, stuffed to the brim with it for its entire length, when finally Carl’s crotch was pressed tight against hers, she felt a strange quivering in her pussy. Then she came! Shuddering, glorious! Even before Carl had begun to fuck her, she’d reached a climax!

Then when he backed off and pushed in again only once, she came again! Then yet again! An orgasm with each thrust? Did size matter after all? Had she been that deprived since her marriage? Was this why she was always recalling the well-hung boys she’d fucked before she’d met Carl whenever she was astride him? Yet even they were nothing like this!

Carol immediately fell in love with that dildo! It was as if she were having sex with someone else with Carl’s cooperation and blessing!

Carl felt that way too, unhappily, but what could he do? He was glad that Carol was enjoying herself, and he paced his thrusting accordingly. But when eventually she tensed for yet another orgasm -- how many already? -- with no sign of slackening, his abdominal muscles began to feel weary. He was feeling nothing himself of course. "Enough?" he asked her a little plaintively. No. She felt sorry for him but she wanted more! To prolong her pleasure she rolled over onto him and began to ride him as she’d once ridden his real cock, wildly, passionately, furiously, as if astride a tireless stud! Utterly stuffed, crammed full, she came yet again! Carl tried to help her celebrate her joy as best he could, thrusting up at her, and this time squirting the warm yogurt mix into her, The dildo’s cum flooded her, and she understood that Carl had at last spent himself. But not joyously. As she recovered her breath and looked down, she sensed that his closed eyes hid a growing melancholy.

Carl was unhappy. He knew now that she loved this dildo more than she’d ever loved his cock, that was obvious. And he knew that this superior substitute for himself was now all he could offer her! He felt both inadequate and rejected. Sad, sad, sad. It showed on his face.

Carol read his expression differently. She took it as further evidence that Coral was essentially a woman. A man would never weary of performing this office, fucking a woman, bringing her paroxysm after paroxysm of delight! But a woman would weary of it! A woman would want her turn too!

She was being selfish, Carol realized, hogging that dildo for herself. She’d forgotten for the moment why she’d gotten it. For Carl! So Carl could learn to enjoy being a woman! It was Carl’s turn to get fucked!

No problem! The dildo was still dripping, with her fluids and its own. It was as slick and slippery as it would ever get! "Hand it over, Coral," she said to him. "Unstrap it!" Carl thought that having taken her fill, she was through. Unable to look her in the eye, somehow betrayed by this piece of artificial man, suspecting he’d just participated in his own cuckolding, he watched surprised as -- still between his legs -- she buckled it onto herself.

"Put a pillow under your butt and lift your knees up high, honey," she said. "It’s your turn!"

Carl was suddenly frightened, down into the pit of his stomach. It was one thing to listen to Sondra encourage him to open his back door to new experiences, but it was another actually to do it. Even when sanctified by marriage!

But Carol felt confident, sure of herself. It’s a good thing there were pictures in the store where I bought this, she thought as she slid down and waited for him to obey her, those pictures showing how gay men and women use these things. And some married couples! "Put your legs over my shoulders!" Maybe next time I’ll do my man doggy style, Carol thought, the way that woman did it to a man in one of those photographs. But I do want to see his sweet face now, his expression at the very moment he loses his cherry! She did. She saw it all. Apprehension as the huge rubber knob touched his anus, bewilderment when it failed to enter, pain as it slid in part way, a mixture of pain and wild expectation as he began feeling sensations unlike any other he’d known, filled full, full. Then as he closed his eyes she saw he’d come to feel pleasure, pleasure intense enough to require undistracted concentration. She slid in and out of him, in and out, and finally she was pleased to feel him humping back. In and out she went as his rear end left the surface of the bed and rose to try to keep the dildo deep inside him even as Carol tried to withdraw it. And finally, she saw him smile, a wide, straining, happy smile, and she felt stickiness on her belly, and she realized that he’d done it, actually pumped clear fluid of his out of his prick, that she’d brought him to orgasm through his asshole! Through his only available womanly opening! That he’d just had his first female orgasm from getting fucked by a cock, or anyhow a facsimile cock! He did have a future as a woman! She reached down and squeezed a bulb at the base to spew salty yogurt, leftover facsimile cum, deep into his guts.

Then slowed, then just lay there atop him with her massive dildo still deep inside. His ass was no longer pulsing, no longer squeezing it as if trying to milk it.

"Was that good for you?" she asked him slyly. She knew, she could see the answer all over his face, but she wanted to hear it from him.

"Yes!" Carl answered. "Very strange, but .... Yes!"

"Very good?"

"Yes, honey. Very good! Thank you!" Carl didn’t know what else to say or think. It had been humiliating, then agonizing, but toward the end fantastic! Stupendous! He’d felt so helpless at first, then he’d felt enslaved by his own desire to feel more and more of that stiff thing thrusting inside him, more, more, until his euphoria could no longer be contained, and spilled over everywhere! Gloriously! Was this what women felt? No wonder they love it!

"You’re welcome." Carol replied. "There’re lots more fucks where that came from! Do you want more?"

"Yes!" Carl replied all at once, mindlessly. Then he realized what he’d said! He’d committed himself! Now he couldn’t ever protest this little experiment in mutual infidelity. It had made them man and wife again. No, not really, it had altered their relationship altogether. They were now wife and wife, sharing the same lover! He mentioned that to her at breakfast the next morning, and she agreed. "You’re not jealous?" she asked him, concerned. "Not worried that Mr. Dildo is bigger and harder than you are. Not afraid he’ll alienate my affections, that I’ll run off with him?" "No," Carl replied. He paused, embarrassed to confess it, then said "Not as long as he tries hard to satisfy both of us." Another shy pause. "He felt good." Yet one more. Then, "Is that how you feel when I’m inside you, moving around?" Another embarrassed pause. "Used to feel?"

"You felt better," Carol said simply. It was partially true.

"Because you were the real thing. The real thing feels better." Then she paused, and while watching him closely she added, "You’ll see."

Carl heard her, but decided in his confusion that the best way to respond was not to respond. The suggestion was disturbing. In fact, Carol knew that for sheer physical pleasure Mr. Dildo was far better than Carl, because he was far bigger, leaving not even wiggle room when he was stuffed into her. His pressure in all directions then turned her whole body it seemed into one huge throbbing pussy, pure ecstasy, desperate to slide up and down on him. But in the end he was only rubber, and sooner or later we all come back to the real thing. For affection. For love. For the satisfaction of dominating another person’s will. "The real thing feels better," Carol repeated. But they agreed to keep Mr.Dildo an active participant in their lovemaking from then on. Now they both had to move on to the next stage of the plan she’d worked out with Maddy, to the real thing. She was now certainly ready for another man in the flesh, oh, Lord yes! Now that she’d made love to Mr. Dildo, she knew it! But first she had to get her hubby accustomed to the idea. Really accustomed to two ideas, each one equally devastating to his male ego, what was left of it. He had to accommodate to the idea that someone else’s real cock could fuck his wife, was fucking his wife, had fucked his wife, and she’d loved it. That he was no longer a fit man for her, and another man was. Then he had to accommodate to the idea that someone else’s real cock could fuck him, was fucking him, had fucked him! And that he’d loved it! That being a woman, he was fit to be fucked!

Men don’t easily accept either idea, not at first. When he’d accepted both of them his transition would be complete. Carl would disappear into his suppressed self, which would then finally emerge. He’d know he was a girl named Coral. The old Carl would be only her memory. Carol’s former beloved husband would become the woman he wanted to be. She wanted to be. But he’d need more time. He’d need to feel Mr. Dildo deep inside himself more often. He’d need to make love to Mr. Dildo with his body and his mouth and his whole heart repeatedly before he’d be ready for sex with some actual man. Carol knew she had to be patient. Even though Carl was innately a woman with a woman’s desires, he’d had a man’s upbringing, with a man’s inhibitions. She’d see to it that Mr. Dildo fucked them both nightly, and then she’d gradually persuade Carl to move on to the next stages. When Carol put Mr. Dildo away that night, she kissed the tip.

"Well done," she said to it. "Keep it up!"

The next night it occurred to her that Carl should also show his appreciation to Mr. Dildo. With some coaxing and much reluctance he too finished the evening by kissing Mr. Dildo’s tip. A few days later he was licking it, and by the end of the week under Carol’s guidance he was giving Mr. Dildo a thorough, passionate, deep-throated blow job at the beginning of each evening. Carol also decided that Mr. Dildo could play hard-to-get, that Carl each night would need to persuade Mr. Dildo to screw him. Really use his feminine wiles to seduce him! So in the privacy of their home Carl began dressing in the most outrageously provocative clothing, and tried behaving like a sex-starved streetwalker. At first he felt embarrassed to seem such a slut, but after a few full days of it, including a humiliating stroll through a distant mall, it no longer troubled him. If Carol and Mr. Dildo wanted him that way sometimes, he’d be that way.

Carol saw to it that sometimes Mr. Dildo suspected insincerity and refused him. She loved seeing the disappointment in Carl’s face when that happened, because it meant that he genuinely needed to feel that stiff dick in him, he’d been anticipating it, dreaming about it! His girlish desires really were coming on! She’d tell him to relieve himself into a kleenex, and disappointed, he’d do just that while she settled herself for sleep. But dribbling into a kleenex was no substitute for a fulfilling fuck. Eventually Mr. Dildo would relent, and she was delighted to see that in no time at all Carl was again on his back or his knees getting plowed, squealing in spasms of joy, loving it all!

One further preparatory step. Carol was now sure that her husband would fully accept his new gender once he was committed irrevocably, even though he didn’t know it yet. He was prepared for it physically now, but he needed to be prepared emotionally too. It remained that he wouldn’t be a real woman until he’d been with a real man, wanted to satisfy him, and did so. But real men had certain requirements. What could Carl offer a man now? A blow job certainly, and his rear end was now well-prepared. But not proper fucking -- that was out of the question for the time being. An orchiectomy and a vaginaplasty would traumatize him right now -- he still needed to learn that what women have between their legs is more desirable than the now-functionless flabs of flesh he carried between his own legs. He’d come to that truth in his own good time, and then he’d arrange for the necessary surgery himself. He wouldn’t need her to coax him.

Maddy pointed out that a complete sex change wasn’t necessary to his further education right now anyhow. Most men would be delighted to use his mouth if it was as talented and well-trained as Carol claimed. And they’d love his newly ripe, well-rounded ass once they saw it, especially once they’d been in it, rolled their bellies around on it with their dicks deep in his guts -- Sondra’s extramarital career was plentiful evidence for that! But if Carl was ever to compete with other girls for the best guys, if he was ever to get a man of his own into bed to coax sperm out of him, and enjoy all the other womanly pleasures, he’d need to excite the man first. And that meant he’d need bigger breasts. There was no question there. That’s what men want. That’s what they look for. That’s the way they are. A girl with small tits gets only leftovers.

Carol couldn’t disagree. Yes, he’ll need them, she thought, and once he has them he’ll enjoy them I’m sure the way I did mine when they finally came in. His figure is blossoming now, but only slowly. He has the cutest tush already, but it’ll still be a while before he can fill a high-styled blouse properly, or wear a backless or spaghetti strap gown and still show a really impressive cleft. And he still refuses to wear breast forms of any kind, because of the delectable feeling those new thick nipples give him when they rub against his clothes. He loves his little swellings, even though he still thinks they’ll eventually evolve into a manly chest. Carol smiled. Time to disabuse him of that. It takes more than little swellings to make a whole girl!

Time was of the essence, and implants were the answer. His figure would be better proportioned, his nipples would stick out further and feel more erogenous, sexier, and it would be easier for anyone to suckle them! He’d love to feel them jounce when he walked, she was willing to bet, lots of women did. Reason enough right there. But the clincher was, she wanted Carl to have really big tits, and she wanted Carl to have them because she knew that deep down in his heart, never saying so, he wanted them too! Left to himself he’d never agree. She’d mentioned surgical breast enlargement at breakfast one day, and a terrified if wistful look came into his eyes. She was sure it wistful. The poor dear was still conflicted. He wanted it so desperately, but he couldn’t admit it to himself! This being in denial was a terrible thing! Carl’s expression in fact wasn’t wistful but worried. He now knew that no matter how many concessions he made to Carol’s kink, she’d still want more of this femininity stuff from him, always under the pretext that he wanted it. He always agreed -- she was so delighted whenever he agreed that he couldn’t deny her anything! And having done it, it always turned out she was right, in a way. Pretending to be a girl and living a girl’s life was novel, interesting, absorbing, challenging, and often it was fun too! Fulfilling in some ways, completing the circle, closing the gap between him and the girls who were his closest friends during his earlier years. And by now he had to admit it was easy, no problem. Some of it, like becoming Mr. Dildo’s passionately devoted sex pot lover, was just great! With other people, all of Carol’s friends, he acted like a proper woman and was accepted as one, whether they knew what he’d once been or not. So it was no big deal to take whatever the next step Carol fancied. It always seemed only one more concession, no great leap into the unknown. And each new concession, each article of clothing, each little gesture or trick of behavior he learned, really did turn her on! And when she was turned on she’d fondle him with such affection, rubbing her whole smooth, soft body against his, which was also far smoother and softer that ever for some reason he couldn’t fathom. Sympathetic vibrations? Was Mr. Dildo turning him into a woman by using him as a woman? He still disapproved of Mr. Dildo in principle, but he couldn’t object to Mr. Dildo sharing their bed because he gave both of them so much pleasure. Carol especially! But he never objected when Carol was leaning over him, stroking Mr. Dildo in and out of his cunt -- that’s what she liked to call it -- and then, oh, glorious!, stroking him in and out again!

But where would it end?

 

14.

One morning Carl was at breakfast wearing only his nylon peignoir, a gift from Carol, when it fell open. Carol looked at the two growths behind his swollen nipples -- now more grapefruits than oranges -- and told him, "Your shape is coming on nicely." Carl agreed in part. "My pectorals have a lot more definition, yes. But they’re still so concentrated! And so soft, you wouldn’t think they were muscles! I asked Callista for exercises to grow my whole chest, and all she ever answers is, "You’re growing, be patient, just wait!’"

"You want to fill out your breasts now? I’m glad you told me!" Carol replied. "You’re right! You’d look much nicer if you were more generous up there. You need more natural cleft, and you need enough sag to suggest a soft, yielding compliance when you go braless. With some outfits, loose breasts are much more attractive than the trussed up kind! I’ve been thinking of getting myself some gowns that encourage that kind of open display. You too?" What was she saying? As Carl stared at her with his mouth open, Carol suddenly seemed to change the subject! She said, "Honey, it’s time to take you to the doctor! We’ve waited long enough!" She went to the phone, and he heard her make an appointment for him for the day after tomorrow. It was a doctor Maddy recommended, one who practiced at Maddy’s hospital and understood transsexuals, and performed in-office breast augmentations many patients of both sexes had praised highly. "I understand, whatever’s needed," the doctor told Carol as she rang off. "I’m sure Coral will be a lot happier. My love to Maddy!" Carl was still watching her, bewildered, as she turned back toward him. "There, honey," she said. "All taken care of!"

Carol didn’t mention the real purpose of this medical visit to Carl, leaving him free to assume it was to diagnose and treat the problem most on his mind, his mysterious impotence. At last! Maybe also to help him understand finally why his exercise classes at FormFit were accelerating these growths on his chest and fattening his butt but accomplishing little else. But for Carol the prospect of Carl’s visit to the doctor was outright thrilling! This would be his first thorough gynecological exam. Large augmented breasts would commit him to his suppressed gender as nothing else would! He was a nice looking girl now, and he knew some provocative moves, but with big breasts he’d be downright attractive! Everything else would follow.

Carol called Bea and Sondra and told them what was scheduled, that it was a surprise present for Coral and she wasn’t to know, but it would be nice if they could help prepare her. They both cooperated.

At tea after their FormFit session the next morning, Sondra confessed that her beautifully seductive butt wasn’t all her own. "My hubby’s kind of backward in his approaches, you know?" she said blushing. "And he loves pillows! So one day I asked around, and then I had it done, got my buns enlarged just a little, well, reshaped too, and then for a week I found excuses to deprive him while it healed. You know?"

"No," Bea said. "We don’t know. Tell us!"

"Well, he was so terribly horny the night I finally unveiled my new bum! It was his birthday, and my ass was his big present! I wore the cutest little baby doll, short, with my new round rear winking at him from underneath! Well! When I finally took off my gown and turned away, he flew at me, and you know what? I thought he’d poke me there, but instead he fell to his knees, and cried out "Heavenly God!," and buried his face there! Deep down in the cleft of my anus! It was embarrassing in a way, you know? He’d never wanted to do that before -- you know? But now he worships me back there. And that’s how he wants me now, wants to put it into me, from back there, so he can rock back and forth on it. All the time! My vagina’s his exclusively, but he wants my rear too even when it’s still slick from some guy who’s just been in there earlier. He doesn’t know that of course. But the fact is, I never see his face any more when we’re making love!"

Sondra smiled at Bea, and they both smiled at Carl, who was looking pensive. "Come on, Coral honey!" Bea said suddenly to Carl, standing up. "There’s a sweater sale at Fussworthy’s. Come help me select something!" Carl did, watching various stretchy blouses and sweaters and cardigans and slipovers cover Bea’s capacious bosom all the while Bea urged Coral to try some on for herself. But compared with Bea’s, Carl’s bust barely registered. There were only small round mounds there.

"Sweetheart," Bea said to him. "Really! With your slim waist and shoulders, if you had C or D cups instead of those A’s and if you were wearing this stretch nylon sleeveless here -- isn’t it precious? -- you’d have the most voluptuous figure imaginable. You’d set fire alarms going all over town. You really won’t wear breast forms?"

"No," Carl replied. "I like the way I feel just as I am.

Natural."

"Well, you need to think about becoming a little more natural," Bea replied. "Think about the effect on men when little Coral comes into a room preceded by her breasts! That would be fun, seeing men who’ve always ignored you stunned into silence, their mouths hanging open! Revenge can be so sweet!! Think how their wives would feel, too! And you heard Sondra! Lots of women aren’t all themselves." She grinned at Coral, then turned to ask the salesgirl about a flowered print pullover, she just loved it but was it reduced for the sale?

That started Carl wondering if there were chest augmentations for men as well as breast implants for women. For other muscles too? Under Callista’s regimen he was developing, but not at all in his arms and shoulders. He had the reverse of a hard body -- he seemed to be softening, developing curves instead of muscular definition. Maybe his steroids weren’t working? He’d ask this doctor.

The next morning Carl was looking through his bureau drawers for nondescript underwear, planning to look gender-neutral for the doctor, since he no longer owned male clothes. He asked Carol where a plain cotton "Hanes for Her" panty might be, the closest thing he had to briefs, and he explained why.

"You’ll do no such thing!" she said, apparently shocked! "A woman dresses decently for her doctors’ appointments!" "Carol," Carl explained patiently yet again. "I’m not a woman! I know how it looks and what everybody thinks, that’s what you want for me, and I don’t mind, I kind of like it now, some of it. But how can I fool a doctor? He’ll take one look at my body and know everything!"

"She’ll take one look! More than one look, honey! We’ll want her to look you over thoroughly and advise us about lots of things. You say you haven’t been developing the way you’d hoped. Maybe you never could develop that way! Maybe you should be trying for some other ways. Have you ever thought about giving it up, forget about trying to become a pumped up little man, and try instead to be a darling little woman! That’s your talent, and it’s what you are already in everyone’s eyes except maybe your own! And you know I have special feelings for you, now that you’re a girl! Well, maybe she can help!" Carl spoke gently now. "Carol, I love it that you have special feelings for me as a girl, though I don’t think I am one. Most of what I’m doing, most of how I look and what people think, most of all this, it’s all your idea. I go along because I love you! I love you, and I want what you want, and that’s what you want!" He was thinking sadly, is that what she thinks I am, a pumped up little man? Is that what she thinks is the best I can be as a man? Is that why she wants this? "A lot of it’s nice," he added, hoping he hadn’t hurt her with this outburst. "A lot of it’s very nice!" Carol was moved. Carl didn’t often declare his feelings, and love in any form was to be cherished. Even though, as she saw, he was still in denial. She swallowed, and she said in a low voice, "You go along because you love it too, don’t you? Deep down?" She really wants to believe it, Carl thought. Have I hurt her, by disagreeing with her? Does she really want to be married to a man who lives like a girl?

"I guess deep down I don’t mind," Carl said. That was probably true. Otherwise he’d never have let it get this far. "Deep down and on the surface too you don’t mind, isn’t that true? You want it?"

"Not exactly," Carl began.

"Sweetheart, who was it who came home from FormFit his first day there wearing panties and lipstick and a dress and a curly hairdo, and the only thing different from that day to this day is her hairdo! It’s softer now, more becoming." Carol’s eyes swept over Carl’s coiffure lovingly. "Was that my doing or yours?" Carl could see how the conversation was going. Give it up, don’t confront her now. "Mine," he said. "I went along with what Bea wanted so I wouldn’t blow my cover. And then you loved it, so I went along there too!"

"Everyone makes excuses for indulging their secret desires, especially if they feel ashamed of them. I know yours, honey baby, and I love you for them! I wish you’d just confess them to yourself so we could get on with re-adjusting our lives to them. Here, try on these panties. Pink lace is pretty. You don’t want the doctor to think you’re a Dyke, now do you!" As a result, Carl found himself sitting in the doctor’s examining room wearing one of his prettiest summer outfits, a flouncy rayon pastel print shift with a bow in back, white heels, and full make-up. He was a very respectable and fetching young lady. Carol was so proud, he looked darling, and she said so whenever any occasion allowed. Carl felt pleased about that. But he was thinking about what to tell the doctor. First, he decided, about his impotence. Then about how he’d like his chest expanded if that was medically possible.

Two hours later,subdued, his chest sore, silent, Carl was being driven back home by Carol, who was phoning her office that she was running late, she’d taken her husband Carl to the doctor and now he needed settling in at home, so she wouldn’t be in until later that afternoon. She glanced over at her poor hubby sitting there morosely staring straight ahead. Now she really did feel sorry for him, and a little fearful how he’d react when he figured out how he’d been tricked.

But mainly she felt envious. He was gorgeous! She could eat him up, he was so beautiful! He now had boobs! On that slim body he now had abundant breasts that curved out generously, an unmistakably feminine figure. He’d never have a man’s body again. At the moment, in fact, they looked enormous in their surgical bra with its protective padding. And as the doctor had told her, the fatty substance in the large implants she’d used would soon incorporate with his own now-substantial breast tissue and become one with it -- in a few months there wouldn’t be any inserts, just magnificent breasts any girl could be proud to display and any man awed to touch! Coral would be all Coral. All natural, just as Carl wanted her.

>From Carl’s point of view the morning had been a series of disastrous mistakes. The doctor was a considerate, crisp woman with short black hair and a matronly way of talking to people, and a decisive manner. She listened patiently as Carl described his needs, he’d gone impotent, did he need some kind of hormone booster? He’d always been thin, and then he’d gotten ill and lost what little flesh he’d gained, was there some way he could enlarge his build, especially his torso?

As he spoke, the doctor glanced at Carol now and then, and Carol threw confirming glances back at her. She’d been told about Carl’s slow, reluctant conversion into Coral, the girl within him who was still trying desperately to emerge, the girl Carl was still trying to suppress. She could see Coral sitting before her trying to express herself through Carl, and as Carl spoke, she heard Coral speaking. She agreed with Carol. Carl did indeed need a hormone booster, especially one that would increase his libido, strengthen his sexual drive, let Coral out on the town as it were. And while the growth hormones Carl had been taking for months now would do the job, he was small-boned and lean, his breasts would never grow past a small B at most, not on their own. Yet breasts large enough to fill a C or D cup on that petite frame would look smashing! Eye-stopping! Perfect! Certainly it would give Coral’s newly awakened libido plenty of opportunities. "I’ll do it," the doctor finally said. "Coral, if you’ll go into that room for a few minutes and undress, and put on the little gown you’ll find there? The nurse will be in to assist you in a moment." She turned to Carol. "While the nurse prepares her, Carol, I’ll tell you about her after-care."

Carl did just that. The two women looked knowingly at each other as he disappeared behind a closed door. "The poor dear," the doctor told Carol. "I’m glad I can help. Maddy told me about her. Don’t fret for a moment. She’ll be lovely. She is lovely already, you’ve done wonders with her, bringing her out. Are you sure she doesn’t want a vagina now too?"

"We’ll wait on that," Carol replied. "She’ll want to discover the uses of her body little by little, I’m sure. You know, it all started when I caught her -- we both thought she was a man then -- she was envying how the girls look in a Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue. And now look at her!"

"It happens that way. I’ve seen it often. Let the cork out of the bottle, and the bubbles foam," the doctor agreed. "You do know that the nerve endings in her breasts are incredibly sensitive already. With the slow-release hormones I’ll slip into her implants, there’ll be no stopping her! Her little clit -- that’s what it is now, I suppose -- will leak whenever anyone touches her breast tips, I suspect. And her nipples will stick out like open invitations! Men will want to touch them! Women too, some women!"

"Yes," Carol replied simply. "I do want what’s best for her.

She’s a dear. My lovely hubby! I do love her!" "I can see," the doctor said, impressed by Carol’s devotion and sincerity. "Well, I’d better begin. She’ll be a new woman in an hour or two!"

And so she was, now sitting in the car as Carol drove him home. When he woke from the light anesthetic he couldn’t believe what had happened to him. His whole chest was bandaged, and it seemed at first the doctor had given him great pecs after all. But then he saw how each breast was gauze wrapped for shape, then held firm in a heavy surgical bra. He had missile nose cones on his chest! Appalled, he stared at them, and looked frightened at the nurse who sat with him waiting for him to wake up.

"I know what you’re thinking," she said. "Don’t worry. That’s just to assure definition until the tissue stabilizes. They’ll be lovely, and they’ll hold themselves up for years, don’t worry for a moment!"

"They aren’t muscles," was all Carl could think to say, choking. "The nurse laughed. "No way, honey," she said. It was such a good joke Coral had just made. "Soft as butter! They’re intended for giving milk you know! Now you’re a Dairy Queen!" And she roared at her own joke. Carl just stared at her, his mind in a whirl. When they got home, Carol put Carl to bed. "Sleep on your back," she said. "I’ve got to get to work. I’ll see you tonight. Don’t worry about a thing, sweetheart. You’re perfect! I love you more than ever!"

In an odd way Carl felt consoled by that thought. He was so tired. He looked up gratefully at her and closed his eyes. And slept. He was still asleep when Carol and Maddy later tiptoed into the room -- Maddy wanted to peek.

"He’ll be fine," she said. "I’ve seen it before. "When the bandages come off, he won’t be able to keep his hands off himself. You’ll see. Look at them! He’ll have two handfuls! And so will you! What a shame Mr. Dildo doesn’t have hands." The two women left, giggling. A few weeks later Carol bought him a few low-neck drape-front blouses to show off his new gentle curves. Instead he tried wearing an oversized T-Shirt, so he’d look like before. But his bra pushed his bust line so far forward that the T-Shirt only exaggerated its size. He tried going braless, but then his nipples jutted so sharply through the T-Shirt fabric that Carol forbade him to leave the house. "Think of the neighbors! Worse, think of their husbands!"

Husbands were the last things Carl wanted to think about. He reconciled himself to life with bras and a big bust. The girls at FormFit crowded around congratulating him, admiring his new acquisitions, sharing sly innuendoes. "You must really have wanted them! Well, Make good use of them!" Sondra told him. Carl grinned feebly. He noticed that two dark-eyed girls in his jazzercise group with loose reputations began coming around to chat with him. "We can be good friends now I bet," one of them told him. Now Maddy and Carol found themselves at the final stage, ready to acquaint Carl with his femininity in such a way that he’d never look back. He’d agree he was a woman and that would be that! It was problematic. Carol and Maddy both agreed that Carl was most likely to break finally with the idea that he was a man if he was caught up in a bewildering momentum, a final rush toward womanhood. They debated how to induce that momentum. The key de-stabilizing event ought to be a sexual infidelity, that was agreed, an outright breach of now-outmoded marriage vows. Preferably mutual infidelities, his and hers. There would follow from these a transformation of their old trusting man and woman relationship, each with exclusive rights over the other, into a new liberated woman to liberated woman relationship, committed to each other but each delighted when the other is delighted, no matter with whom.

Carol debated with Maddy whether she or Carl should first be unfaithful, that is, fuck and be found out. They shifted positions several times. It came down to two scenarios. The first was, Carol commits an infidelity, and Carl comes to know about it. This forces Carl to confront his inappropriate, selfish jealousies and also his inadequacies as a man. It would plunge him into deep despair as well as jealous resentment. He’d fear he’d lost Carol. Yet he’d arrive finally at a mode of acceptance if he were played right, at a determination to do the same thing himself in order to get even. Perhaps even a determination to do the same thing at Carol’s urging, so he could learn to forgive her, so he could understand for himself how thrilling it can be for to spread your legs and open yourself to a real man, not just to a Mr. Dildo strapped to a woman or perhaps to an impotent husband. Living as a woman, if he wanted to get even he’d have to do what Carol had done, fuck a man! Maddy would arrange it. In this scenario Carol would bear the burden of responsibility and the burden of guilt as well.

The second scenario was for Carl to be seduced and then wallow in guilt at having betrayed his wife. As an act of contrition, to feel better about it, he would urge his wife to even the score by fucking a man. Carol would agree to it reluctantly, but insist that to relieve her own guilt at fucking a strange man, he’d have to do the same.

This option was attractive to Carol -- after all, how many months had it been since she’d been screwed by a really heavy duty prick? How many years? And she knew Carl would do it for her, with a little coaxing. He loved her, after all.

Either scenario would end up with Carl finally in bed with a man, in full possession of the pleasures and privileges of his womanhood, his suppressed birthright, savoring the joys of sex and the pleasure of harvesting semen on his own! Carl would finally be Coral, no turning back, no longer a man in denial but a woman revealed as herself! At that point, Carol decided, Coral could replace Carl in her own mind too, and they could begin their new lives together. A whole new relationship, more loving than girlfriends, and closer than sisters, each encouraged to fulfill her own dreams.

The first scenario seemed to Carol the kindest. The second scenario offered problems. After all, these days her sweet Carl wasn’t able to betray her with another woman, not any longer, not physically, not the usual way. With a man yes, but not with a woman. The second scenario would get her laid with Carl’s consent, even at his insistence, and that was a plus. But this whole thing wasn’t about her, it was about him. She didn’t want her poor dear to feel guilty, only happy!

So she decided to follow the first scenario, she’d breach her marriage vows herself and see to it that Carl knew, minimizing if she could the insecurities that would torment him. She’d do everything she could to support him through what would probably be the blackest period of his life. But it was better for their marriage for him to feel miserably inadequate yet furious with her, she decided, than for him to feel that he’d been a moral failure, racked with agonies of guilt at having betrayed her. She’d take the risk and make the sacrifice, not her loving, trusting Carl. She’d go out and get laid first. She owed Carl that much!

Having committed herself, she realized that this would be her first full-scale proper fucking by a stud hunk since her marriage. Maddy promised to provide her with a cock she’d never forget attached to a man she’d never need to remember. She thought about that, and gradually felt better. Yes. That was the way. Learning that his wife was unfaithful, adrift, knowing that his marriage was at risk, confused, helpless, Carl would be all the more open to his women friends’ suggestions. A cuckolded man, he’d reconceive himself as a self-respecting, mature woman, ready and willing to even the score for his wife’s infidelity, ready to do the same thing, to fuck a man as a woman. He’d become the woman he’d always suppressed. And afterward he’d realize that his wife had always believed in that woman, had only wanted to help! That it had all been for him! For Coral! Tears came to Carol’s eyes. Whether or not Carl ever finally understood, Carol owed him that ultimate gift, his fulfilled womanhood. She loved him. She said as much to Maddy as she told Maddy about her decision. Maddy merely smiled and commented, "Don’t plan over-precisely. These things happen as they happen. You may end up with a little of each of your options. Let’s get things under way and see what we see. First you need to do your thing and see how you like it! Break the ice. Are you free tonight?"

"Yes," Carol said, knowing what it was she was saying ‘yes’ to. My poor Carl, or Coral, she was thinking. For the first time in our marriage I am going to be unfaithful to you. But all for your own good! You’ll be the sole beneficiary. I feel awful already! I hope whoever Maddy gets me for my date will be worth it. Six hours later, driving home in a haze of marvelous memory, Carol had her answer. He was. Adrian was his name. Maddy told Carol she’d considered feminizing Adrian once, just because of his name. But she realized the first time she slept with him that removing his manhood would be criminal, a sacrilege, it would deprive women of extraordinary God-given gifts, a terrible waste! Instead, Adrian should be dedicated to the uses of all women! Trained to please women! She bent her efforts to that end, and Adrian had graduated with highest honors. Once with Adrian, no woman was ever be satisfied with less, certainly not with their usual partners or husbands. Since there was only one Adrian, they then had to console themselves with many lovers. Like Maddy, they accumulated stables of men willing to do what Adrian had done to them. And for them.

That night with Adrian, Carol explored the uses of his cock as if there were no tomorrow. Before she’d filled herself with his cum yet again and he’d fallen asleep exhausted, she’d spread her legs under him, mounted him, and knelt in front of him, and he’d managed to enter her each time. Then they did some standard missionary fucking. Sublime! No matter where he entered her, she didn’t want it to ever end. Mr. Dildo had stretched her, but Adrian’s prick stretched her further! And it was hot, and it throbbed! It bumped up against her cervix repeatedly even before he’d buried to its hilt. She lost track of how many orgasms he gave her. Her screaming together with twice deep-throating him reduced her voice to a croak. She only knew she wanted more! When he entered her rear the first time, her first time ever with any man, she’d been fearful. But she had to let him, she had to feel what Carl would soon feel. The second time, she wanted it for her own sake! She’d begged him to enter her there, in fact! When they parted, Carol and Adrian arranged to meet again the next night again. It was important for her to get accustomed to her new sexual freedom. She wanted to be so thoroughly and frequently fucked that any possible relapse, any regret or remorse for betraying sweet Carl would be irrelevant, absurd, given the magnitude of her infidelities. She wanted to feel committed to this new joy! And she wanted Carl committed too!

Even so, she felt a momentary guilty pang as she took her leave.

No matter, get the plan moving, she reminded herself. So she did. "Have you a friend as beautiful as you are?" she asked. "Is he free tomorrow? So I can bring my friend to meet him?" She explained that her friend was in some ways ... incomplete, and explained how and why.

Adrian was amused -- he’d discussed the whole situation with Maddy already, and while he wasn’t himself into transsexuals he knew someone who was. "Of course I can bring a friend. In fact I know someone who’ll love your Coral precisely because of her ... inadequacy. Coral already knows him, I think, from the gym where she works out. His name’s Sergei."

Perfect! Fortune smiles, Carol told herself! Her darling had been half-fucked by Sergei already! He’d kissed Sergei! Only a little further to go! We’ll meet for dinner in some restaurant, then drive somewhere for dancing and whatever else. Only after she’d left Adrian several fond kisses later did it occur to her that Maddy’d foreseen all this, that she’d foreseen everything. She’d led Carol to this liberation as deftly as Carol was leading Carl to his. Maddy’d probably briefed Adrian earlier, when Carol was still a faithful wife, not a many-times unrepentant betrayer and soon-to-be pimp for her husband. And Adrian already knew that Sergei was available! It was all pre-arranged! Maddy had seen this moment from the beginning. From that first consultation about why her husband had guiltily tucked his balls and gathered up his breasts! She’d even mentioned this as a likely outcome! Yet, even if Maddy had figured it all out all at once, long before Carol did, she’d still left all the decision-making to Carol. Carol had made every decision herself. Just as in a way, Carl had too! She had to respect Maddy for that!

What a dear!

 

15.

When she arrived home, Carl was sitting up in bed reading. He saw Carol’s face flushed and her hair awry, as before. This time he saw a gleam in her eye too. What’s that all about, he wondered. "Had a good time?" he asked. "Out with Maddy’s friends again?

Like the way I’ve arranged my hair this time?" "Lie down, honey. Flat on your back!" she replied. And pull up your nightie!" She’d decided to play at being just a little bit tipsy, to leave things a teeny bit ambiguous!

He wriggled down, his now plump bottom undulating provocatively. She thinks I mean to fuck her, Carol thought. What a dear! My darling girl! Then she realized that for the first time she was thinking of Carl as a girl! Not yet! I must get him started! Well, tomorrow it happens no matter what!

She sank to her knees and sucked Carl’s penis into her mouth, then began licking and pulling on it with her cheeks and lips and tongue as if it were a fat noodle. It didn’t stiffen of course, but it plumped up a little and began to seep. Carol sucked up the seepage for a half-hour, keeping it mixed with saliva in her mouth until finally Carl went tense and out loud said "Ahhhh!" His prick sort of spasmed a few times. A little warm liquid joined the accumulated fluids in her mouth. She moved up and kissed him on his nose, his chin, his brow above and below the hairline, and both cheeks, each time depositing just a little of his saliva-diluted cum in each place, until Carl’s face was shiny and wet and just the faintest bit sticky.

"Oh dear, look what I’ve done," she said. "I’ve made a mess of you!"

"I guess so," Carl replied, wondering where she’d been that she’d come home feeling such ardor. Someplace erotically stimulating or someplace boring? "But I love it when you kiss me that way!" "That’s good," she said, and immediately stripped off her soaked panties, mounted him, and collapsed her bottom against his face. "Now I’ll kiss you this way! I’m feeling so horny!" Now maybe he’ll think it’s his or mine, she was thinking. Far-fetched as that would be.

And cum poured out of her! All over Carl, into his hair, into his ears, down his neck! But mostly into his mouth! "Drink me, baby," she crooned. "Drink deep! Swallow it down, safe and snug inside your tummy. Cum, juicy cum, that’s what we love! Man cum. Thousands of little baby sperms looking for the one little baby egg each girl keeps deep down inside her secret place! Take good care of all these sperm! Keep them warm in your belly!

I know you love it, lick it up the way you always do! Every drop!

That’s it! More! Mmmmm! Yummmm!"

She’s looped! Carl thought. But she’s having such a good time! And she’s so wet! All this can’t be what I just squirted and got, from her mouth, can it? I bet she went with the girls to one of those stud shows with male strippers and got all excited! She’s not just oozing, she’s pouring!

He licked her and swallowed, and licked some more. He recognized the flavor of cum. There was so much of it!.

Carol writhed her buttocks on his drenched face as soon as he’d cleaned them, wiping them on his nose and cheeks so he could lick her bottom clean yet again. He dipped into her anus with his tongue. He inserted it deep into the cleft of her pussy. She came a few more times, squeezing out more phlegmy blebs, groaning, her voice exhausted. Finally as dawn was breaking there was no more sticky stuff left. "That’s so soothing!" she said finally, sleepily. "I was fucked raw, but your tongue is so soothing! I do so love you! I’m so happy now! Let’s get some sleep." She rolled over and was out