Decisions, Decisions
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Sincere thanks to reviewers of my first story. You were all very kind.
Decisions, Decisions by Joannebarbarella
An unfamiliar sensation woke me. I am Lady Diana Spencer, soon to be
Princess of Wales and last night my future husband Charles and I attended
a Ball. It was not surprising that we were crowned king and queen of the
event as I was wearing the dress in which I will be married and Charles
his full-dress uniform. We were surely the most handsome couple there. It
was rather embarrassing that I had to give Charles a blowjob in front of
all those people, but I secretly enjoyed it.
What woke me up was something happening between my legs. I looked down
past my breasts and saw a blonde head with my rigid penis firmly locked
between its lips. Penis? I don't have a penis,but I can't argue with the
evidence of my own eyes. The girl looked up showing beautiful blue eyes,
and then I came. She swallowed.
"That's a small reward for last night," she told me.
"What?"
"Oh, sorry. GOLDILOCKS," she said. "Joanne, welcome back."
Something twisted inside my head and I remembered my real name. I am
Joanne, the live-in lover of Francine, the gorgeous girl who has just
given me a blowjob, although there is a niggling doubt at the back of my
mind that this is the whole truth. Anyway, last night I played the role of
Diana, and truly believed I was her due to a fortnight of heavy training,
reinforced by hypnotic suggestion. Francine was my Charles at the Vicars
and Tarts Ball, where cross-dressing is compulsory. Francine achieved her
masculinity due to the most amazing latex mask you have ever seen, and her
make-up skills guaranteed my role as Di.
"You were amazing too. I think you deserve a reward as well. What do you
say?"
She just smiled, so I licked her pussy for ten minutes or so and we made
love penis-to-pussy for another ten minutes.
"OK. enough.I think we have to talk," she said. "I achieved my goal last
night so we have to consider where we go from here."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I have manipulated you shamelessly since we met, and I have been a
lot less than honest with you. We must have it out before we decide what
we do from now."
Oh, shit. This didn't sound good. What was she going on about?
"I didn't actually tell you any lies,but, to be fair we must go back to
square one. I don't want you making any decisions without knowing the
whole story. You might hate me after this."
"Never," I thought.
"First of all, I have to regress you to before the hypnotherapy.
GOLDILOCKS-John." Again that funny twist in my head, and I was no longer
Joanne but John, the 17-year old boy who Francine had picked up in a
coffee bar many months ago. I was still aware of Joanne and Diana, but
they were like cousins, if you know what I mean. As I was wearing a short
and sheer nightie I wasn't feeling particularly masculine at that moment.
"Now, let me check first. Who are you?"
"I'm John. What did you do to me, Francine?"
"Let me explain right from the start, but before we go any further, I do
love you. Don't forget that. When we met I told you my parents had
divorced when I was 11. That was true. What I didn't tell you was that my
name was Francis, or Frank, at that time. I had always been my mother's
boy, so there was no question of my father getting custody of me. He
didn't even try,but if he had I would have run away, back to my mother.
Anyway, after the divorce, my mother and I became even closer, if that was
possible. I always loved the way she dressed and I didn't hide it. I used
to tell her I would love to dress like her and be a beautiful girl if I
could.
"She said she didn't see any reason why I shouldn't, so she bought me
girl's clothes and I spent most of my time out of school as a girl. When
the next summer holidays came I was 12 and she sold the house and we moved
to a country town. She didn't need to work because the divorce settlement
had been generous. So when we moved I moved in as a girl and nobody knew
Frank existed. I was her daughter Francine. She managed to get hormones
for me through various friends and pharmaceutical connections who were
sympathetic to her situation. I hadn't gone through puberty, so I was
easily able to enrol in the local school as a girl. She said we had moved
interstate and my records had been lost,which nobody seemed to question.
"After that I carried on quite happily through school until I was 16, by
which time I was a girl as far as I was concerned. Of course the hormones
had prevented the onset of male puberty, and I had developed female
characteristics, so the world wasn't any wiser. As soon as I left school
mother took me to Thailand and I had sexual reassignment surgery and some
cosmetic work to really seal the deal, so to speak. I attended classes in
cosmetics and beauty products when we returned, and got work in a local
salon for a while. My mother decided we should move back to a city for me
to get wider experience in my job when I was 19.
"That's when I started working in theatrical make-up. I also learned a lot
of other things which Mum wouldn't have approved of, if I had told her.
Everything was fine until she got cancer, and the rest you know, except
one thing my mother made me promise before she died. She reminded me how
lucky I had been in being able to change from male to female,because she
was supportive. The world in general was much more hostile and cruel to
people who felt as if they had been born into the wrong sex so I was to
look out for people like that (particularly boys because there seemed to
be more of them) and to try and help them if I could, but to be cautious
and not make mistakes. When I saw you that day in Starbucks you looked so
sad and lost that I thought you might need that kind of help. I tried to
be very cautious and not push you but then I got carried away and obsessed
with winning the Tarts and Vicars and I acted very selfishly and got the
hypnotherapist to act unprofessionally. At my urging he slanted your
therapy to feminise you and gave me the trigger word to implant post-
hypnotic commands in your mind. I didn't mean to do you any harm. I
thought we could undo it all after the Ball. Please forgive me."
"Bloody hell! that's a lot to get my head around in one go. All right,you
were a boy until you were 11. Now you're 24, so you've actually been a
girl for most of your life,especially when you can't remember the first 2
or 3 years, OK. To me you look like a girl,you act like a girl, you speak
like a girl, you dress like a girl (except for last night), when you're in
bed you're definitely a girl. I think I can live with all that. You're a
girl as far as I'm concerned. It's not a problem. But what do you want
from me?"
"I want you to be self-confident and happy with yourself, whoever you
choose to be. It has to be your decision."
This obviously needed some thought! Understatement of my life!
I laid back in bed and closed my eyes. Here I was in a nightie with my
hair still done Di-style and a beautiful girl who had just handed me one
hell of a problem, and my name was John, or was it? Joanne was still with
me, and even Diana hadn't gone away.What did I want to do?
I thought back to when I met her. I hadn't told her why I left school.It
was in a fit of teenage rebellion because I felt some of the teachers
were not giving me a fair crack of the whip and I would be better off out
in the world. I had been rapidly finding out that the world was not a very
forgiving place. My two closest friends were gone, one to join the Army
and the other to work overseas, so I was feeling down because of that as
well. Living at home was stifling me, even though I knew it was me and not
my parents. So, yes, the best I could say was that I was spinning my
wheels or, worse still, going backwards. Then my angel appeared and gave
me a chance at something new. Falling in love with her was icing on the
cake. I learned how to look after her household needs, to wash and iron,
to clean and dust, to cook and shop.
Mundane stuff, yes, but things I had never done before and it made me feel
useful and wanted, and I was proud to be looking after her. Suddenly I was
suspicious. "When did you first use the trigger word on me?" I demanded.
"Not until I knew about the Ball. We had been together for about three
months and you had started hypnotherapy maybe two weeks before. In fact it
was the first time I made you up and I wanted to convince you that you
could look like a girl."
That meant my pride in my work was genuine. What a relief. I did not want
to lose this girl so if the basis of our relationship was sound I had a
reason to continue it. I also remembered how she had come to me one day in
tears and our sexual activities had started that day. So now I knew that
hypnotherapy had nothing to do with that. Things were looking up.
"Francine," I said, "I think I've worked through enough stuff to believe
that you loved me before you started all the business with the trigger
word, and, God knows, I love you, so can we say that we will continue to
stay together no matter what? I still have to work out who I am, and if
you will love that person."
"John, darling, I will love you whatever you decide. How about we take a
break and I will prove it to you?"
We took the break and made love for several hours, including just kisses
and cuddles and sweet nothings. Funnily enough there was a distinctively
female slant to our lovemaking. I licked her pussy for ages, and she
brought out the dildo and used it on me. I don't suppose I will ever know
whether it was my sub-conscious or hers that was giving us a message, but
by the end of that session I basically knew what I wanted to do. However,
I told her I wanted to talk to the hypnotherapist before I committed to a
course of action. She agreed to wait until then, which was the following
Tuesday, and I told her I wanted her to come with me.
We went to see the hypnotherapist together, but I told her that, under the
circumstances, I wanted to see him alone first. She couldn't argue with
me. I went into the room where the sessions normally took place and
confronted my therapist. I let him know that I was now fully aware how the
treatments had been slanted and I wanted him to do a few things to make it
up to me. I also made it clear that I would not ask him to do anything
nasty.
"Tell me what you want me to do," he said.
"First, if you put me under and ask me who I want to be, is it guaranteed
that I will tell you the truth?"
"Absolutely."
"Then I want you to do that and give me my answer."
"No problem."
"Second, I want you to make sure my trigger word stays in place."
"If that's what you want I'll do it," he said.
"Third, I want you to hypnotise Francine and give me a trigger word for
her. I promise I won't use it for anything bad."
"I'll accept your promise. Did you have a word in mind? It's best to use
something that doesn't occur in everyday conversation."
"I thought Barbarella."
"Good choice."
"OK, start with me," I said. I lay down on the couch and watched the
spinning wheel. Next thing I was awake again. He told me what I had said.
It wasn't quite what I had expected but when I thought about it I knew it
was right. I don't think I would have come up with it consciously. He then
called Francine in and told her that he was going to hypnotise her at my
request. She was uneasy at this but I took her hand and said, "Trust me.
I'll never hurt you." So she submitted. After all this we went home, but
not until I told the therapist that I still wanted my usual appointment
next week. I think he might have been surprised.
All the way home Francine wanted to know what I had done, but I wouldn't
tell her. I just said to wait until we were home. I made her sit down and
got her a drink and then began.
"Darling, I asked the therapist to put me under and get me to tell him
what I really wanted. He assured me that my sub-conscious would tell the
absolute truth, so this is it and I hope you like it. First, I want to
become Joanne, all the time. But not just John in girl's clothes. I want
to be a girl. I want to have all of a girl 's parts and think like a girl
and act like a girl and love you like a girl. If you think this is right
for us you only have to say the trigger word, but this time John will
still be with us too. Wait! there's more, as they say on TV. Apparently I
was really turned on being Diana, so, if you agree, I want you to choose a
famous woman with the reputation of being a tart about once every three or
four months and get your friend Susan to transform me like she did before
for maybe a week at your pleasure. And finally Joanne wants to become as
much like you as she can. She would like to be your identical twin but
will settle for being close enough that she can see her love in the mirror
every day. OK, I've finished. How did all that sound?"
She sat without saying a word, and I thought I'd blown it. Then tears
started streaming down her face, and I was sure I'd blown it. Then she
said, "GOLDILOCKS. Joanne and Diana and John. Welcome back." and I felt
that familiar twist in my head and was so happy. "Thank you, darling,"
said Joanne, "and I must warn you. I've got a trigger word for you, so
behave yourself!"
I was back into life as Joanne in no time, with John enjoying the ride. It
added a new dimension to have a boy marvelling at all the new sensations
of being a girl. Within two weeks I had begun hormone therapy using
recommendations to psychiatrists from the hypnotherapist, who I
blackmailed a little into attesting that I was over 18. I also instructed
him to resume the feminising bias in my regular weekly sessions. He
grumbled that my self-esteem had increased too much, and I told him it was
his own fault. We both laughed. Four months later I became Julia Roberts
in her Pretty Woman role for a week. Francine said afterwards she couldn't
stand me but let me have my fun. I went to the Fiesta Club every night and
made $1000. On my 18th birthday I exercised my trigger word.
"BARBARELLA," I said to Francine, and saw her sort of stiffen. "I want you
to marry me while I'm still theoretically male, but I want you to do it
entirely of your own free will. Will you marry me?"
I could see her relax. "I don't know whether to call you a bastard or a
bitch," she said, "but I guess you just taught me a lesson. Did you mean
it?"
"Of course I did, and BARBARELLA was a bit of a joke, but now you must say
yes and suck my cock." Naturally she had to obey, which was great fun for
me. Afterwards I released her from the command and she tried to beat the
shit out of me, which ended up in a wrestling match which was even more
fun.
"You did mean it, didn't you?" she asked me.
"I did and I do. I waited until I was18 so it will all be legal, but I can
still look enough like a man that nobody makes any trouble for us. In a
few months the hormonal changes will really start to show and I will never
be able to carry off a male role again. I know you already said yes, but
I'll ask you again to be sure."
"Yes again. Right away. I want to use your cock for a little while before
it goes away for ever."
We got married in a civil ceremony two weeks later. Our witnesses were
Susan, my drama coach, and our hairdresser from the salon. I had become
good friends with Susan through our contact as teacher and pupil, and she
had removed one last niggling doubt from my mind. I asked her one day
about the first time we met, when she told Francine that she had excelled
herself with respect to me, what had she meant by that?
"Joanna darling," she said, "Francine and I have been friends since she
came here and she had told me her little secret. She needed someone to
confide in. She also told me about her promise to her mother and wanted my
opinion as to whether I thought she was doing all right with you. When I
saw you I was amazed. Frankly, my dear, I had been expecting to see a boy
in drag, and what I saw was a very pretty young girl. That's why I made
that comment."
That took a load off my mind. My transformation gathered pace. The
hypnosis hastened my mental change. John seemed to fade in my mind as
Joanne took over more and more although I always seemed to be able to call
him up if I needed to, and I was striving, consciously and unconsciously,
to become like my darling wife. Physically, the hormones began to show
their influence. My skin softened and my breasts grew. I no longer needed
extensions in my hair (except when I was one of my tarts on occasion).
Francine and I arranged for me to have several minor treatments and
surgeries to enhance the process. I had my adam's apple shaved and vocal
chord modification at the same time. Collagen injections plumped up my
lips and a cosmetic snip enlarged my eyes, giving me a "wide-eyed
innocent" look.
After the latter procedure Francine decided that I shold revisit Diana,
but this time when she was in her thirties and having flings with all and
sundry. So I became Di for another week and didn't I have fun at the
Fiesta Club. The clientele couldn't get enough of me and I made $2000 in
the week. Francine thought it was hilarious but eventually decided I was
enjoying it so much she might not be able to get me -Joanne- back, so she
said the magic word. She was right. I loved being a tart and batting my
eyelashes at all those men. After about eighteen months (which included a
spell as Sharon Stone. WOW!) it was plain that my bum was fully developed
and my breasts, at somewhere between an A and a B cup, were not going to
get any bigger on their own,so we decided that I should match Francine's C
cup size, and I had implants.
I loved my new boobies! They looked great and my nipples really stood out.
As soon as we could we christened them with an all-night licking and
sucking session. Since my cock no longer worked we made do with the
available alternatives- all of them. As my goal was to be as much like
Francine as possible I mimicked her movements and mannerisms whenever I
could and got her to lock them into me with the trigger word when I got
them right, so , by the time I was 19, I walked and talked,sat and
stood,flicked my hair, smiled and fluttered my eyelashes just like her.
When I admired myself in the mirror she looked back at me. I was so proud
of us.
A somewhat unexpected side effect was that I also became a skilled make-up
artist, although I did not have her talent for shade and colour. Just
after my twentieth birthday we decided it was time and both flew to
Thailand for my final reassignment surgery, i.e., turning my cock into a
pussy. The actual operation went off OK, I was told, but a few days later
when they reduced the medication,boy (or girl) did it hurt! The first time
they let me get out of bed to go to the toilet I hit the ceiling. About
ten days later they took off the pads and bandages and showed me my new
parts in a mirror. I burst into tears. It was so swollen and ugly. It
looked nothing like Francine's. She was there of course and comforted me,
assuring me it would soon improve. I'm glad to say she was right.
Every day, twice a day, for the next week they penetrated me with a cock-
like implement and lubricated me. I couldn't feel it that much as I was
still pretty sore. Then I was released with instructions to keep on
exercising daily with the rubber cock for at least ten weeks, by which
time I should be ready for the real thing if I was so inclined. I was very
glad I had Francine there to help me. We spent another week in Bangkok
while I convalesced, and could waddle around without looking too much like
I had just lost my horse and then we flew home.
Everything they told me came true. My new pussy gradually became less
swollen and tender and after about five weeks looked like a pussy should.
The Penetrator, as we called it, and lubrication did their jobs and I
actually started to look forward to my daily insertion. Francine and I
used to get the giggles imagining it was Brad Pitt or Arnie
Schwartzenegger. And then three months had passed and I was as close to
being a fully functioning woman as I ever would be. Did I want a real
cock? Of course I did. Who wouldn't at least be curious? But my love was
still Francine.
The glorious thing was that she could now use her strap-on in the right
hole, and she did, as often as she could. We had three months enforced
chastity to catch up on (bar all the other things we had done in that
time) and we tried. However, we both agreed that I must experience the
real thing at least once. So she took me to the theatre, because, she
said, I would be able to find a good-looking guy with a huge ego who
thought he was God's gift to women and would sweep me off my feet and on
to my back in no time. I actually had to go every night for a week. As an
aside, it was during that week that Susan button-holed me one night and
suggested that I should take up acting as a profession.
Anyway, sure enough, a man came on to me very strongly one night and swept
me off my feet, or tried to. I didn't let him into my pants straight away.
I made him work for it. He thought he was the next Hugh Grant. I fluttered
my eyelashes at him and oohed and aahed in the right places, made him take
me to dinner and to drinks after the theatre, etcetera. Francine and Susan
considered it a hoot and called me a tease and a hussy. They knew this guy
and he would be mortified if he ever found out he had been bedded by a
transsexual. Anyway after a week I let him take me back to his flat and
have his wicked way with me (I even took condoms). I gave him his money's
worth and he gave me mine. It is certainly true that there's nothing like
a real cock, and he knew how to use his. Yes, I really enjoyed it. What a
pity it comes attached to a dick-head. When I left his flat at 6 a.m. he
promised to ring me later. I'm still waiting.
I'm happy to say that I took up Susan's suggestion to become an actress.
It was actually so obvious I don't know why we didn't think of it before.
With her teaching ability and the use of the trigger word I was a very
quick study. It worked for dialogue too. I mainly work as an understudy to
the more famous names. Having the connections through Susan and Francine
helps a lot. And it is fun to be somebody else once in a while. Some of my
characters are great substitutes for Diana or Julia or Sharon. These days
Francine and I share the household chores. I still like to wear my maid's
uniform when I'm doing mine, but Francine keeps borrowing it, especially
when I say BARBARELLA. Most people think we're sisters now, and we are in
a way.
Oh, one more thing. I went for a cup of coffee the other day and sat with
a sad-looking young boy. I think he needs our help. I have already told
Francine we will have to move to a bigger flat and I have an idea for the
next Tarts and Vicars Ball.
May be continued if I get some inspiration- Joanne.