Wednesday, July 23, 2014

The Image Stories: Four

"Your next patient is rather unusual, Doctor," the nurse told her employer.

"Unusual? How?" asked Dr. Madelyne Saunders. A respected and sought-after plastic surgeon, she was quite certain she’d seen it all in her 20 years in practice--from men who wanted Cary Grant’s chin to women who wanted to be sculpted to look like Barbie. Nothing could surprise her any longer.

"Well, it’s a husband and wife, you see--" the nurse began.

"--and the husband wants the wife to have bigger tits and firmer thighs; he wants Demi Moore even though he married Kate Moss," Dr. Saunders completed the thought.

"Not exactly," the nurse corrected her. "Well, perhaps I’d better bring them in."

A moment later, she led the couple into the office. They were, indeed, a far cry from what Dr. Saunders had been expecting. The woman was a tall, strong, commanding figure, beautiful in an imperious way. The man, on the other hand, seemed to be completely under her control--he walked behind her, eyes somewhat unfocused, step almost mincing.

Yes, mincing is the very word, Dr. Saunders thought. Even his clothing is effeminate. It certainly was. His pants appeared to have no fly, zipping up the left side, instead, and they were made of a light flowing fabric. His shoes were patent-leather flats with a bow on the instep. As he passed the doctor and she turned to follow him, she could clearly see the line of a pair of woman’s panties across his bottom.

"Well, Mr. and Mrs. Porter, what can I do for you?" the doctor asked, as she settled herself behind her desk.

"Just a moment, Doctor," the wife said. She turned to her husband. "Donald." He looked her in the eye. "Lullabye and good night." His eyes closed and his head slumped to his chest.

"Now we can speak in privacy," Mrs. Porter continued. "As you can see, Dr. Saunders, I quite control every aspect of my husband’s life. Through hypnosis, I have trained him to be the feminized sissy you see before you. I have decided it is time to take that transformation even further.

"It is my intention to remake my husband physically into the very image of the woman I would want as my lesbian lover. I believe he is an excellent candidate for this change: As you can see, he is quite small, almost petite, and has quite a girlish frame already."

Dr. Saunders was aghast. "Why do you think I would participate in such a plan?"

"I can make it quite worth your while." She stopped for a moment and wrote a figure on a piece of paper and passed it to the surgeon. The amount named would not only cover the costs of any treatment Donald Porter would receive, but would include a great deal more. "Not only that," Mrs. Porter continued, "but I have several wealthy women friends who are in the process of controlling and transforming their husbands and lovers, and I would be happy to refer them to you, if your work is satisfactory."

It was an offer the doctor couldn’t refuse. She asked for a check for a retainer and then asked, "What exactly did you have in mind for Donald?" Mrs. Porter produced a photograph--it was a publicity portrait of a renowned country singer, famous for her exceedingly womanly shape.


One month later, Dr. Saunders was invited to the public unveiling of the new Donald Porter. The event was to be held in a local nightclub famed for its erotic male dancers. She joined Mrs. Porter in the backstage dressing room where she and Donald were getting ready for the show.

The transformed husband was already in a deep hypnotic trance when the doctor entered. He was dressed in a white satin demi-bra that barely concealed any of the massive breasts Dr. Saunders had given him through a combination of saline implants and hormone therapy. His tiny waist was encircled by a matching garter belt; she had reduced its size through liposuction, removal of one rib from each side, and severe corseting during recovery.

His legs, which had been treated with the finest depilatories and softening creams, were sheathed in white nylons, and his feet were tightly encased in white sandals with six-inch heels. Dr. Saunders had, at his wife’s direction, shortened the tendons in the back of Donald Porter’s legs, making it impossible for him to be comfortable in anything less than a four-inch heel.

His hair was a mass of platinum blonde waves and his face, resculptured by the plastic surgeon’s art to closely resemble that of his wife’s desire, had been artfully made-up to heighten that illusion.

As Dr. Saunders watched, Mrs. Porter provided the final hypnotic instructions to her hapless male lesbian lover. "In a few moments, you will be brought on stage by the dancers. You will smile and flirt with them and with any other man in the audience. At the right moment, you will be introduced as The Delightful Dolly. When you hear those words, here is what will happen…." She leaned forward to whisper the all-important instructions, not wanting to ruin the surprise for the doctor. "Once all that has happened, you will awaken from this trance, and Donald Porter will cease to exist."

Mrs. Porter turned to the doctor. "You’d best find your seat out front. The show will begin any moment."

Sure enough, just as Dr. Saunders took her seat, the house lights dimmed and the stage lights came up. A disco-beat version of "Nine to Five" filled the club and the male dancers--dressed as military men--took the stage, delighting the audience with their gyrations. As the music moved into a third verse, two more dancers came out of center stage, carrying the transformed Donald Porter on their shoulders.

A skin-tight, form-fitting white dress with a deep V-neck that showed off his cleavage had been added to his ensemble, its tight skirt ending some eight inches above his knees. The dancers set him down on the dance floor and he shimmied and shayed with them, smiling, kissing, and bumping hips.

Finally, the stage lights dimmed a bit and a single spotlight fell on Donald Porter. From the wings came his wife’s voice, "Ladies and gentlemen, The Delightful Dolly!" At the sound of those words, the newly renamed Dolly Porter’s whole body shook with a massive orgasm, one that was clear to every observer. She collapsed to the stage, still shaking with the effect of the erotic moment.

Her wife strode into the spotlight, and helped the boy-girl to her feet. She turned to the audience. "Who wants her husband to be next?"

A dozen hands went up and Dr. Saunders busied herself with multiplying them by her fee.


Don't forget to pick the man you'd love to see feminized (details here)!

No comments: