Id

What does your Id desire?

Dylan and I had been friends since high school.  We both attended Harvard where Dylan got his degree in advanced psychology and I got my degree in business management.  We used to laugh that I was going to end up running some fortune 500 company with a wife and family while Dylan would struggle to do his research and always be trying to land the right girl.  Fortune played out a little differently though.  After leaving the university I got a middle management job at a biotech company and Dylan ended up on their advanced research team.  I spent so much time at my desk that I never had the chance to really go out and date, while Dylan was out hooking up with girl after girl. 

So when Dylan said he could help me with that, I jumped at the chance.  He said there was some good research where they had found an actual area of the brain that was acting as someone’s id, and that through a little chemical alteration, it could change that person’s instincts.  In other words, it could help tamp down my hesitation in meeting girls and heighten my social character making me a woman’s perfect date bait. 

After each nightly injection Dylan reminded me to focus on what I wanted so that new pathways could be created.  Wanting the perfect girl, I got onto some porn sites, a modeling agency web presence, and even got some old school magazines to cut out photos from and tape up around my bed.  He admitted that he didn’t know how to measure the affect, so we’d go out to the bar often to see any changes.  We didn’t notice any changes there, but I did notice a change in my search for the perfect woman.  In the beginning I had all types of hair color, length, and style, but I started narrowing my selections to blondes with shorter hair.  I stopped looking after ultra curvy, big breasted women and instead started looking at thinner svelter women.  Even the videos I was looking at and saving for repeated viewings changed from sexually aggressive women to more submissive meek women. 

I was at work one day while searching for my lady when the IT manger stopped by to remind me that viewing porn on the company’s computers was forbidden.  I was so embarrassed and just told him that it wouldn’t happen again, but as soon as he left I started looking again.  I knew it would be a problem but I just kept searching and viewing. 

That night Dylan had some good and bad news.  The good news was that I wouldn’t need nightly injections any longer.  His research team had made a slow acting long-term injection that would last for a week.  The bad news was that he was going on a trip to work with our Tokyo branch and would be gone for the next month.  He knew I was squeamish about giving myself a shot, so he quadrupled the dose and gave me a shot that should last all four weeks.    

After the shot I started to tell him about my urge to search for porn on the job, but Dylan interrupted me and said that these could be the changes manifesting themselves.  And while he’d love to help guide me through some therapy to document it, it wouldn’t be profesional for him to do it personally.  He was just too close to the research.  Part of me wanted to tell him that it was probably unprofessional to be running his own experiment outside of his research, but I felt it wasn’t right to contradict him.  Instead he set me up with one of the company’s staff psychologists who could talk me through enhancing my id and seeing if the porn was somehow related to the project.  He promised me that Dr Hemmings was part of the research team and I should explain everything in my therapy. 

A few days later, after dropping Dylan off at the airport, I went to my appointment with Dr Hemmings.  The receptionist told me that Dr Hemmings had to take a sudden leave of absence and wouldn’t be available for several weeks, offering to set me up with a different therapist.  I hesitated for a few seconds as I knew I couldn’t be open with just any therapist, but even as I was thinking of a polite way to tell her I’d just reschedule I instead told her that any therapist would be fine. 

As I was worrying over my decision my therapist came out to guide me to her office.  I knew immediately that I couldn’t share anything with her though as this wasn’t just any therapist, it was Dr Colove… Dylan’s direct competitor and a woman who felt personally slighted that she didn’t get Dylan’s job or his project in Tokyo.  But instead of begging office I followed her back to her office and took a seat and as soon as she asked how she could help me I started spilling everything.  My inability to stop watching porn at work, my studies of women, the injections, and even everything I knew of Dylan’s research. 

I was shocked at myself.  I knew I had probably just gotten Dylan and myself fired and maybe even lost Dylan his license.  But instead of calling HR or my boss, she instead sat back and started asking more details.  Our session, scheduled for 30 minutes, ended up lasting over an hour.  She even scheduled me ongoing therapy appointments every other day until Dylan came back. 

Dr. Colove’s help was unusual, but certainly appreciated.  The first thing she did was help me get permission to work from home and then actually encouraged me to start watching porn.  She even set up a timer on my computer and said I should have porn running for at least 3 hours a day… all of it focused on my dreamy blonde haired, submissive, cock slave of a woman.  Watching that much porn was frustrating as she also told me to not masturbate during it because my sexual arousal would help out.  I didn’t think it was possible, but after she told me that, I had the willpower to not jack off.  At all.  Even later at night when I figured it would be okay I just couldn’t make myself do it. 

Other parts of her therapy were unusual.  She somehow got more of the injections and started injected me with small doses of the long-term formulation at each session.  She promised that the research was working, just not as anybody on the team planned for.  And then there were the social trips.  She took me out.  I’d say I took her out, but she was distinctly in charge and took me places I never would have though to go.  Like her hair salon.  Admittedly it felt strange getting my hair done from a giggling gay stylist, but he made my hair look fabulous.  I’d never been a blonde before and the highlights really gave it some depth.  The next social session we went shopping.  We must have bought a dozen different outfits.  I’m not really sure why she never tried them on, but she’d look damned sexy in any of them.  Each trip was like that… somewhere feminine that I wouldn’t want to go but ended up having a great time.

The last social session before Dylan would be coming home had me a little worried.  It was at Dr Colove’s home.  When I arrived she took me directly into her bedroom and I saw almost all of the items we’d purchased over the past few weeks.  Panties and bras.  Dresses and skirts.  Eyeliner and lipstick.  High heels and stockings.  But next to all of that was a bunch of leather harnesses, ball gags, hand cuffs, vibrators, and even a strap on dildo. 

She had me sit down on the corner of the bed and said this was the big test.  She started asking me questions about what I’d like her to wear and then give me options.   I stated out excited hoping that once I got her dressed up as my ideal sex toy that she’d let me have my way with her, but instead my selections all had her dressing up as a dominatrix.  Then she turned the tables and started asking me what I should wear.  She didn’t offer any masculine choices though, instead telling me to pick between a sexy red evening gown and a leather bondage harness.   

I tried to build myself up.  It wouldn’t be easy telling her to go screw herself, but it didn’t matter if she was my therapist or not, even playing at me dressing up like a woman was insulting and… and I was shocked to pick out the lather harness.  To say I was confused would be an understatement, especially as she continued as if expecting that result and the following ones where I picked out rope, padded cuffs, a ball gag, and a vibrator. 

That night was disturbing.  At every turn I wanted to get out.  I wanted to tell her to stop.  I wanted to close my eyes and forget what was happening, but I couldn’t do any of those things.  Instead I acted completely like a willing participant.  I helped get her dressed into her goddess outfit, even kneeling to kiss her black patent leather boots, and then helped her dress me.  In the bondage gear.  By the end of the night I knew what it felt like to be tied up completely immobile.  I knew what it was like to be blinded by a hood and have someone randomly spank parts of my body.  I knew what a rubber dildo tasted like.  

And after sleeping a few hours curled up at the foot of her bed, I changed into my clothes, thanked her for a wonderful night, and went home. 

Once I was safely inside my apartment I cried and cried and cried.  I couldn’t understand what happened, why I didn’t physically stop any of the humiliating things I did last night or even verbally say I didn’t’ want that to happen.  It was almost as if I was compelled to do them against my will.  It felt like hours before I could get myself emotionally together, but once I was feeling like myself, I vowed I’d get to the bottom of this. 

I logged into the company’s system and started scouring for the electronic health records.  I shouldn’t have access to them, but Dylan had giving me access before he left to make sure no mention of the research ended up in my own record.  I immediately started reading Dr Colove’s notes and was horrified.  It seems that in her first visit with me she had figured out what was wrong.  She recognized that the drug had in fact opened up my id to programing, but that by viewing images and videos of the girl I wanted I had inadvertently started training my id to become that girl.  She went on to note that almost everybody has a feminine side, just like almost all women had a masculine side, but that this was changing my entire psyche into that of someone with gender dysphoria.   I was programing myself to be a woman. 

The rest of the notes were lies, talking about standard talk therapy, but after some digging, I found her private notes and saw that she had plans all along to not only see how far she could push me into that feminine world, but also how to use this change to ruin Dylan.  I almost fainted when I saw that she was changing up my injections,.  Not only was she giving me very high doses of the id formulation, but she was also giving me feminine hormones and testosterone blockers.  She wasn’t just making me a woman in my mind, she was doing it to my body.  The fact that I had focused on submissive women was just making her job easier as I had made myself incapable of refusing anything, she or anybody said. 

When I went to write Dylan an email explaining what was happening, I wrote out an entirely different message.  I told him that the formulation was working and that the therapy sessions had helped me find my true self.  I hinted around what was going on but eventually finished the message by saying that he’d be surprised when he returned in a few days.  When I hit send, I knew I was in trouble as I had already opened up my porn session and had the timer running.  The image of a woman being hogtied and forced to blow a man took on a whole new meaning even as I couldn’t take my eyes away from it. 

I shouldn’t have been surprised when Dr Colove walked into my apartment a few hours later.  When I turned to talk to her she told me to keep watching the screen and just listen to her.  My eyes were locked on the kneeling woman being taken from behind while she told me about seeing my digital foot bring in my own medical record and her private files.  She said there was no reason to keep this a secret any longer and that we could now start to really speed up the process. 

It seems her plan was to make me into not only my own ideal woman, but a woman that could steal Dylans heart.  Or at least his libido.  That once he accepted me as a woman and started a relationship with me, she’d report his private unethical research to the board claiming that he did this to me to make me into his ideal woman.  Not only would he be fired, he’d probably go to jail when I took the stand against him.   And finally, once he was taken care of and she was running the research department, she’d get the courts to assign my continuing care to her. 

My last hope was that Dylan would see that this was unwilling for me.  That by seeing me go through these changes as a half man half woman he would be turned off.  But that hope died a quick death when Dr Colove told me that she’d also signed off on Dylan extending his trip to the other side of the world.  He’d be spending a month in Beijing, a month in Hong Kong, a month in New Delhi, a month in Seoul, a month in Sydney, and a month in Jakarta.  And that if I wasn’t ready by then, she’d extend it to our facilities in Bangkok, Hanoi, Moscow, Warsaw, Berlin, and Paris. 

And as if she were nailing the lid on my coffin she pulled out a piece of paper and started giving me direct command after direct command.  She told me that I couldn’t speak about this research, my therapy, my drug or porn use, or even my job to anybody.  She told me that I would break off the relationships with my friends except for Dylan.  She told me that I wouldn’t use the phone without her direct permission.  She told me that I wouldn’t email or electronically message anybody without her direct permission.  She told me that I’d stop contacting my family. 

Without any way to tell anybody about what was going on, I was left at her will after that.  And now that she wasn’t hiding what she was doing, we did indeed start to move faster.  She had me throw out all of my clothes and then move in with her.  She had me quite my job even as she told them she’d be doing her research from home.  The clothes we bought earlier were now mine to wear all the time and my closet grew more and more full as we went out shopping often.  The trips were humiliating as I looked exactly like a man in drag, but even that served Dr Colove as she’d use it to convince me to want to look more feminine. 

I took to makeup quickly.  I’m sure it had nothing to do with the drugs, but it’s a talent I’d have never found if not for all of this.  As my skin softened and my features started to become more feminine, I was getting good at enhancing that look and within a couple months I was able to pass completely as a woman.  My hair had already been growing out and it caught up soon enough and was able to be styled in a short feminine sexy manner.  The trips to the laser hair removal place helped finish the job that the hormones had started. 

For three months Dr Colove had me in her bedroom every night.  Some nights she used me sexually.  I was her slave just as the girls I watched were slaves.  I’d give her orgasm after orgasm with my tongue before she’d let me fall asleep with my face still between her legs.  Other nights she’d use her strap on… she made me call it Dylan… and I got very good at taking it into my throat.  When she spent one night fucking my ass raw with Dylan I thought I’d hit rock bottom. 

But after three months I found out there was a lot lower I could go.  At that point I could pass as a woman fully.  Hair, face, makeup, even my voice had been trained to sound lilting and soft.  No one suspected me as anything other than Dr Coloves sister or lover when we went out shopping.  And once that point was met, we started to hit the bars.  I know that if she pushed me fast into this part I’d probably have broken, but she was a professional and kept my steps small.  For a week I got used to simply being seen by men as a woman.  The next week I was accepting drinks from men.  The next week I’d let them sit next to me and chat with them… always being told to talk about whatever they wanted.  The next week I learned how to actively flirt with them.  The next week I let myself be guided out onto the dance floor. 

My first hand job was done at the bar.  Carlos was fairly aggressive, but those are the types of guys that Dr Colove loved to set me up with.  While laughing and giggling at his jokes I let him guide my hand under the bar and to his crotch.  When he let go and whispered into my ear to get him hard, I left my hand there and started rubbing his large cock up and down.  Carlos seemed like a pro at this as in one quick motion he pulled my hand away, unzipped himself, pulled his long snake free, and guided my hand back to it.  He never even stopped talking about the football game as he did.  When the bartender walked up and started debating Carlos on the Patriots vs the Steelers I had to sit there and listen as my hand glided up and down the fist cock I’d ever touched outside of my own.  And as much as this whole situation humiliated and disgusted me, I knew I had to use all the training and videos I’d watched to make this good.  I knew how to vary my pace to keep him excited.  I knew to gather up his precum and coat his cock with it, making it slick and easy to slide my hand along.  I knew to occasionally let go and play with his balls and even tickle one of my long fingernails lower than that.  Not only was I to all onlookers a sexy woman sitting next to her hunk of a man, I was knowledgeable enough about hand jobs to get him off under the bar.  I think if he bartender hadn’t come along I’d have been guided out into the alley or into the bathroom to finish off Carlos more intimately, but as it was he came all over my hand and the bar in front of him. 

And just like in the videos I’d watched over and over and over, I didn’t hesitate to bring my hand up and lick it clean as Carlos watched.  I even added a sexy appreciative moan… and died a little more on the inside. 

When Dr Colove found out about my experience, she added it to my nightly repertoire.  She even had me work on my skills and setting time limits for me.  By the time she got bored with this aspect I could get most guys off in less than five minutes.  And each time, I’d die a little more as I licked myself clean.  I must have tasted the cum of 20 men before Dr Colove changed the rules on me, and I can blame that rule change on Jeremy. 

While sitting next to Jeremy, my hand working to jack him off under the table, I was forced to stop the waitress bumped our table and sent my purse spilling it’s contents onto the floor.  Without thinking about it I let go of Jeremy’s cock, kneeled on the floor, and started gathering up my things.  When I had everything together and stood up I saw that Jeremy had put himself back into his pants… the bulge was obvious and overt… and was holding his hand out to me.  With my heart dropping into my stomach I placed my dainty hand into his meaty paw and let him guide me into the men’s room. 

I put every bit of effort into those next few minutes.  I knew what Jeremy wanted and I knew that I wanted nothing to do with it.  So all of my feminine wiles, all my months of training went into full effort.  Once we were in the bathroom, I pushed this hulk of a man back into the door.  In a hot second, I licked my hand sloppy wet, had his cock out of his pants, and was jacking him off again.  As soon as he opened his mouth, I leaned up onto my tip toes to kiss him.  My gorge rose as his tongue started twisting and wrestling against mine, but I kept going.  I pressed my small but present breasts into his chest and kept jacking him off as furiously as I could. 

And all my effort was for naught.  As soon as Jeremy’s hand landed on my shoulder, my knees did the job they’ve been trained for, and folded. I kneeled down and faced Jeremy’s manhood.  It was wet, shiny, throbbing, and demanding of attention.  While it felt like every muscle in my back was pulling against it, I let out a sexy moan, leaned in, and took Jeremy into my mouth.  The strap on dido I had felated so many times didn’t prepare me for how this would feel.  The warmth and live feeling of the cock sliding between my lips was so foreign and unexpected that even my training failed me, causing me to stop with only his first inch laying on my tongue.  Almost as if he knew what I needed, Jeremy reached down and grabbed a handful of my hair.  The squeal that came out of my muffled mouth sounded absolutely ecstatic as he started guiding my plump lips up and down his cock. 

Maybe if I’d taken control I could have mitigated my time with Jeremy.  I could have done just like I did with Carlos’ hand job and got it over as quickly as possible.  But with Jeremy establishing his control I was now his puppet, pleasing him how he wanted.  And evidently, he wanted this blowjob to last.  When he started to get to close to climax, he’d simply slow my motions or guide my mouth down to lick at his balls.  Each time he fed his cock back into my mouth it was met with that same excited squeal, sounding like nothing other than me declaring to the world that I knew my place and was so happy to be in it.  I learned that night that I was very vocal when giving a blowjob.  As I moaned and mewled delightfully, I remember reading that men liked women who made a lot of noise during fellatio, and figured that fact had been imbedded into my subconscious.  My tweaked id. 

I’m not sure Jeremy could have planned this better.  At least not from the perspective of my new demanding id.  Instead of cumming in the deep warm confines of my mouth, Jeremy pulled me from his thick throbbing tool by the hair, tilted my head back, and came all over my face.  With his cock in hand he actually directed his hot sticky seed into my hair, over one of my eyes, and mostly all over my open needy mouth.  I’m sure he saw and felt me shudder as he used his softening cock to get as much as his cum into my mouth before having me suck it clean.  And I’d absolutely love to say that very real shudder was from humiliation, but my programing and training truly had sunk in.  That shudder was me cumming into my own panties. 

Jeremy was due home in the next few days, and Dr Colove knew she had absolutely no reason to extend his stay away.  I was the sexy feminine, submissive dream girl that just bout any man would kill for.  She didn’t even need to guide my training directly any more.  She simply told me to go out every night and blow as many men as I could.  Cumming with my guys was rare, but I’d get up to four guys to blow each night so I’d still normally end up with an orgasm most nights. 

When Dr Colove drove me back to the apartment Dylan and I shared she gave me her last commands.  She had me write out a personal letter letting Jeremy know of the changes I’d gone through, making it clear I was to make it sound like I was doing all of it voluntarily and because of a deep-seated love for him.  I was to leave that note at the door for him to find, dress up in some sexy lingerie, and then wait on the chair for him.  I was to do my very best at not only giving him a blowjob before he even undressed, but I was set the goal of having him take my ass. 

I had wondered why she had never guided my guys into fucking me and now it made sense.  She wanted Dylan to be my first, cementing my emotional bond with him.  That would be the final trap.  My id was in control, and it wanted Dylan to love me.  It wanted to be his woman.  When Jeremy came home I had gone even further that Dr Colove commanded.  I barely tried to stop, knowing that I was practically a passenger to my deeper force fed yearnings.  I went through the photos Dr Colove had taken of me during my transition and laid them out.  As Dylan walked in he got to see me, the me he remembered from before he left.  Each step he took he was greeted with a less masculine, more feminine me.  

Each time I heard him pick up a photo I’d let out an impatient groan.  By the time he picked up the photo I’d taken that morning he was standing right next to me.  Without even looking I reached around and gently, lovingly grabbed him.  The fact that he was hard showed me that any chance of him saving me was gone.  Dylan’s cock was in my mouth before a word was passed between us.  

After licking him clean and working to get him hard again, Dylan smiled down at told me that it would be silly to call me John ever again.  I hadn’t had to use a name before.  I’d normally let the guy I was going to give a hand job to or suck off ‘guess’ my name and just admit that he was right on the first guess.  But when Dylan asked for my name it spilled past my lips as if I’d been calling myself that for years.

When Dylan undressed, bent me over the chair and took my virginity it was Dylan making love to Ida.