Sunday, November 12, 2017

Waiting for Manhood

Waiting Sucks.

I… or Jin as I had to think of myself now… know that this is what the world is now.  But I don’t have to like it.  I was an impressive masculine alpha male.  Years ago, when the disease started I thought I’d be immune.  I thought my life would be perfect… weak willed men slowly turning into gorgeous submissive maidens ready and willing for me to pick up and make my own.  And now I just have to sit here, my hands demurely on my knees and wait for some alpha stud to come in and claim me. 

It turns out that the damned scientists were wrong.  There didn’t seem to be any way to predict who would get transformed.   Sure, it was mostly the weak willed, scrawny, mealy mouthed, pathetic guys that got turned into babes.  And if that was true, then the world transformation clinic’s transformation protocol made sense.   These guys were barely guys before, so give them some forced training on how to emphasize their new feminine form.  How to defer to the men in their lives and how to please them.  How to be sluts in the bedroom and ladies out on the street. 

The first batch of babes that came out of those transformation clinics made believers out of almost everybody.  Oh sure, there were those feminist groups that insisted these were mind controlled non-women.  Men turned into sluts to please other men and push real women out of the way.  But they were just pissed because they couldn’t get to the man meat they, deep down, really wanted.  At least that’s what I thought.  That’s what almost everybody thought. 

And then it happened.  That Olympic athlete came down with the femme curse.  But the stories made it make sense… he was gay.  He was a sissy in disguise and the femme curse actually helped him be the babe he really wanted to be.  And she was so honest looking in that interview that everybody believed she loved and treasured her opportunity to get down on her knees and worship some true Alpha God.  Then it happened to that politician.  But politicians are born liars and the world is better off with him… her.. warming up some real dude’s bed. 

So, when I noticed those telltale signs… my body hair disappearing, my chest growing to pert little breasts, my legs slimming down while his hips grew wider… I just assumed it was some new disease.  I mean, it couldn’t really be the femme curse because I loved his chicks.  I was built like a shit brick house and could lift with the best of them.  My doc only took a quick exam and then referred me to the world transformation clinic.  I still held out hope… hope that maybe this was some new disease and just an injection or two would fix me right up.  But they didn’t even ask him if he wanted this.  They didn’t listen when I screamed about not being a fairy.  I got his injections alright, but they just helped speed up the process and take the fire out of my reluctance. 

While my body ‘matured’ I was forced into those horrible classes.  Classes on everything feminine and dainty.  Cooking, cleaning, serving.  Hair, makeup, nails.  Clothes, heels, lingerie.  Blowing, sucking, fucking.  And if I complained?  If I told them I was really a man and this was a mistake…  If I actually had the nerve to put up a fight and tell them they were wrong?  Then it was over the knee of some muscle head who just saw me as a slow-witted girl bucking the system.  And of course he wouldn’t stop until I showed him my compliance by willingly kneeling between his big sweaty muscular thighs and sucked him down my throat.


And now…. Now it’s graduation day.  I’m Jin… it’s still had to think of myself as that name, but I can’t call myself John now either…   and I’m to sit here and wait for my man.  The curse not only made me into a submissive sexy plaything, but it also made me… what?  Korean?  Chinese?  Just some non-country specific oriental?  I guess my man will tell me what I am.   Hell, me might not even care.  God knows if I saw a woman like me I’d have assumed that she loved being tied up and bound and spanked and forced into being a diminutive demure delicate girly girl.  And as much as that may now be wrong…. I have to be that if I want my man to care for me. 


source:  Google Image Search
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So this one came out of nowhere.  I've been so busy lately with family problems and my own stress issues that I just haven't been anywhere need the right mood to make an obscura.   But maybe I'm turning a corner.  Maybe this is a sign.  I won't hold out hope, but you never know.  

Anywho, I actually found an image over at Mistress Simone's tumbler that caught my attention.  You can see it here:  http://moderngoddesstg.tumblr.com/post/167412357847  It's adorable and I immediately got the idea that this was a newly transformed and trained woman waiting for her man.  Her man would tell her how she would act... he might tell her she's to be a slut, he might tell her she's to be a lady... but she had no choice.  

The story worked in my head and I knew I could flesh it out and add some delicious details about how she came to this point but I had an immediate problem.  The image is small.  667 pixels by 667 pixels.  For comparison, my header images are 740 pixels wide.  I didn't really think it would work, but I tired googling for a larger version of that image.  It didn't find me a larger version, but it did start a google image search that lead me to the image I finally chose.  I just had to add a little extra to explain the race change.  And yea... I probably could have just left out that detail in the story and let the reader assume he was of the same race, but I already had an image in my head of some big buff blonde beach dude, and I just stayed with it.

Anywho.... I wanted to give Simone the credit she's earned as her image inspired this Obscura.  I hope you enjoy and I hope that my absences will be far more brief.  

2 comments:

  1. Love this little tale and what is going on in his head.
    Yes Simone has great pictures I have "borrowed"a few myself.
    Ps Watch those stress levels. they can become the new norm, then the next one and the next.
    Then your head falls off!

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  2. When inspiration strikes, it really strikes! Lovely work.

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