Morgan Sellers had a secret. He had tried to tell the secret to women he loved several times over the past 15 years but it always ended in heartache. Now he was in love again and he was sure this was the woman he wanted to spend his life with…but could he do so without revealing the secret? He decided he could not.
So Morgan sat across the table from Elizabeth and took a deep breath. “Liz, there’s something I have to tell you…and it’s difficult because whenever I tell someone about this, it always destroys the relationship.”
“Then why tell me, Morgan?” she asked.
“Because if I don’t and you find out later—and you will find out later—it will probably be even worse,” he explained. “You see, this is a secret I have kept for 20 years and it’s very much a part of me, a part I could never give up.”
Liz smiled. “I would never ask you to give up something that means that much to you, darling…”
“You might,” he went on, “when you find out what it is. I’m going to tell you a story…and please don’t interrupt until I’m done.
“When I was ten, my mother’s sister, my Aunt Fran, moved into our house for several years. Aunt Fran was younger than Mom and quite attractive. She dressed to show it off—with the fashionable, very feminine styles of the 1990s. I guess you would say Aunt Fran was my first crush. I had no idea why I was so enamored of her, but I was.
“One afternoon, Mom and Aunt Fran had gone shopping and I decided to take a look through Fran’s room. Her clothes were so pretty and she was so beautiful in them that I couldn’t resist getting a better look at them. As I explored, I found where she kept her collection of shoes. Aunt Fran always wore heels, never flats, and must have owned a couple of dozen pairs in all sorts of colors and styles. One pair in particular caught my eye—black patent pumps with a four-inch heel.
“I knew how those shoes made Aunt Fran’s legs look….and I knew how she walked in them. I wondered if they would have the same effect on me. So I slipped out of my sneakers and tried on the pumps. They were a near-perfect fit! I stood up and enjoyed the feeling of extra height and surprisingly erotic tightness in the muscles of my calves. I took a few tentative steps and listened to the tap-tap-tap of the heels on the hardwood floor. Each tap sent a little throb through my tiny cock.
“Mom and Aunt Fran would be home soon, so I quickly took off the shoes and left her room.”
“Is that it?” Liz laughed. “That’s not so bad….”
“I’m not finished,” Morgan said. “Mom and Fran went shopping every Wednesday and I took to exploring Fran’s room every time. I discovered her lingerie—her panties and bras and slips and camisoles. I discovered her nylons, which made her shoes feel even better. Though her dresses and blouses and skirts were all too big for me then, I tried them on and reveled in the sensuous feel.
“That went on for the five years Aunt Fran stayed with us…and by the time I was 15, her clothes fit me marvelously. The one disappointment was that her shoes no longer did—my feet had grown into their adult size. But this was the time of Fayva and other self-serve shoe stores, so I was able to take some of my allowance and buy high heels that fit. I spent nearly every Wednesday afternoon in Aunt Fran’s room…and I realized I was absolutely addicted to wearing women’s clothes.
“Aunt Fran frequently discarded things she no longer wore…and I rescued a lot of them—especially panties and bras and camisoles. I started to wear them under my male shirts and trousers. I still do.” He stopped to take a breath.
“Morgan!” Liz exclaimed. “I’ve known about that for months. You’re wearing a lacy cami under your shirt right now, aren’t you? I felt it when I put my arm around you.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?” he asked.
“I think it’s delightful!” she responded. “I have a boyfriend who shares my taste in clothes!”
“Well, there’s more to it than the undies. I have an entire closet at home filled with women’s clothes…and I wear them as often as I can, whenever I can be sure I’ll be alone for the evening.”
Liz laughed. “Well then, that settles it. We’re going right back to your place and you’re going to put on a fashion show for me, tonight!”
Minutes later, they were In Morgan’s bedroom, and Liz was carefully going through all his feminine attire, from undies to frocks, choosing the things she wanted to see him in. “Strip, baby,” she said. “I want to dress you from the skin out.”
Morgan blushed as he complied. She handed him a pair of
panty hose, and a matching lacy set of bra and panties. “You do know the hose
go on first, don’t you?” Liz teased, as she assisted him into the sheer nylons.
“Now the panties…and oh, see how your little cock reacts just to the mention of
the word! And the bra—just an A cup, huh? Maybe we need to get you some falsies
so you can wear something a bit more womanly…or do you like looking like the
pre-teen you were when this all started?”
Morgan had no answer to that, but merely blushed more intensely. “Oh! Look at this!” she exclaimed. “What a darling minidress…just right for your youthful look!” She unzipped it and helped get it over his head, and zipped it tight. “Shoes, shoes…..ah, here we go!” She pulled out a pair of black patent mary-janes with three-inch heels.
As Morgan walked around in his feminine clothes, Liz explored the place further. “Morgan, honey, don’t you have any makeup? Or a wig?”
“No…no, I don’t,” he replied. “The clothes were always enough for me.”
“Well, not anymore, sweetie,” she said, emphatically. “In fact, I think we need to really make you over, body and mind.”
That stopped Morgan in his tracks. “What….what do you mean?”
Liz smiled. “Now that I know your secret, I’m taking control. You know I studied hypnotherapy as part of my training, right? Well, we’re going to use that to create a really feminine version of my boyfriend…and if you don’t agree to that, you might discover your secret is not quite so secret anymore.”
“That’s blackmail,” Morgan protested.
“I don’t think so,” Liz replied. “You’re far too invested in this little fantasy life of yours for you to really object to going further. After all, you’re the one who came out to me. Admit it, you were hoping I’d take charge, weren’t you? Isn’t this always what you wanted your Aunt Fran to do?”
Morgan gaped at her. How did she know? “Yes…yes, it is. I wanted her to turn me into…well, not a girl, actually, but….”
“…a sissy?” Liz finished the sentence for him…and he nodded agreement. “Well, now I can do that. Come sit beside me on the bed and get comfortable. Relax. Now—what one word comes to mind when you think of how you’d like to be when dressed up?”
Morgan didn’t even need to think. “Girly,” he answered.
Liz clapped. “Oh, I love it---that will be your special word. Now, look deeply into my eyes while I repeat that word over and over:
Girly
Girly
Girly
Girly
Girly
Girly
Girly
Girly
Girly
“Now, say it with me….”
And Morgan began to repeat as
well:
Girly
Girly
Girly
Girly
Girly
Girly
Girly
Girly
Girly
After a while, Liz stopped repeating and let Morgan continue on his own, as she guided him into trance. “That’s it, Morgan, just keep saying that special word, that special word that makes you feel so feminine and lovely. As you feel more and more feminine, you feel more and more submissive, you surrender your masculine will to my feminine power. All your thoughts and desires become my thoughts and desires. You are my pretty dolly, my little plaything, my sissy boyfriend.”
She watched as his eyes fluttered closed and he stopped speaking. “Morgan, do you hear me?”
“Yes, I hear you,” he murmured.
“Good girl!” she said. “And when I call you good girl, you feel a little thrill of sexual pleasure, don’t you?”
He shivered with pleasure. “Yes, yes, I do.”
“Wonderful! Now, whenever you hear me say or get a text message or e-mail that says Morning Morgan, you will awaken from trance. And when you hear me say the word Girly three times in a row, or get a text message or e-mail with Girly three times, you will return to trance, twice as deep as the last time. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Liz---Girly Girly Girly….”
“Good girl! One last thing—in trance or out, you find it impossible to resist my suggestions. Anything I say sounds like the best idea you’ve ever heard!” She smiled as she watched that thought sink into his brain and he nodded in agreement.
“Good girl! Now, it’s Morning Morgan!”
Morgan’s eyes fluttered open and he sighed. “Oh, Liz, this is wonderful! Can you really make me into the sissy I have longed to be since I was just ten?”
Liz smiled. “Of course, I can. I’ve already started, my good girl.” Morgan felt the frisson of pleasure through his whole body. “You felt that, didn’t you?” Liz continued. “That was just the beginning.” She picked up her purse and headed to the door, beckoning Morgan to follow. “Now, come on, we’re going to the mall for the next step.”
Morgan looked down at what he was wearing. “Shouldn’t I change first?”
“Whatever for?” Liz countered, laughing. “Isn’t this exactly how you ought to be? How you want to be?” And Morgan realized she was right…she was always right. He was her pretty dolly, her little plaything, her sissy boyfriend, just as he was always supposed to be. She took his hand and led him to her car.
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