Saturday, January 19, 2019

Coming Home

I just wanted her back in my life!

When Gina broke off our relationship it was really devastating.  I loved her more than I thought was possible.  She made me a better person in just about every way imaginable, and even though I promised I’d do anything for her she still had her things packed up in a single day and was out of my life the next.  My friends tried to cheer me up by taking me out to bars and strip clubs and by hooking me up with sexy available women, but while they only saw Gina as a short, sexy, sensual woman, she was much more than that to me.  I loved the way she could change any dark mood into one of hope and mirth.  I loved the way she’d always find a silver lining no matter how dark the cloud it surrounded.  I loved how she could look at any failure as simply an opportunity to improve. 

Eventually most of my friends gave up on me.  I heard them occasionally muttering that I’d eventually get over her, or that I’d find a new Gina, but only Jack at work went beyond those whispers and suggested I get some counseling.  The thought of sitting on some lady’s couch and crying about missing my girlfriend wasn’t exactly appealing but then I saw his advertisement saying he could specifically help people who missed their former lovers.  He even guaranteed that his clients could reconnect with their lovers if they took his extensive in-house counseling service. 

When I called and asked about his guarantee he told me that I’d have to commit completely to his program.  That any deviation would skew the results.  Three days later Dr James Watson moved into my brownstone.  On the first day I had to give him access both to my phone and my laptop.  He reviewed all of Gina’s and my communications from text messages to recorded facetime sessions.  From emails to iMessages.  While he stayed with me, I tried to make him as comfortable as possible.   It actually wasn’t difficult as I had always taken care of Gina and actually missed cooking for two people.  I’d always kept a tidy home and while James wasn’t exactly Oscar from the odd couple, it was a chore to keep the place that way.  After a failed few days of prodding him to clean up his messes, I finally relented and just cleaned up after him. 

Each night we’d sit down and discuss the different aspects of Gina that I loved so much.  Her friendly attitude, her giving nature, her love for life.  We even discussed our sex.  That part was particularly embarrassing as Gina was a very sensual person, but I never looked at her as a sexual object.  Frankly, sex was always secondary in our relationship as far as I was concerned.  At times I was afraid she might seek out sex with other men, but our love was too good for that to ever be anything more than a fleeting thought.  Whenever I tried to beg off that particular subject, Dr Watson insisted that he had to know everything. 

The more difficult part was talking about what I didn’t like about Gina.  It took a lot of pressing on his part but I finally admitted to things that bothered me.  While I absolutely didn’t mind taking care of our home, it bothered me a bit that she didn’t ever feel like cleaning up after me.  I never told her, but I shared with James that I really wished she’d have taken care of our laundry as I always deep down thought of that as women’s work.  And finally after a particularly emotional talk about our sex life, I admitted that I wished Gina had relented to me when we had sex.  She loved me and loved having sex with me, but whenever we coupled she had to be in charge.  Yes, it was sexist and yes it was a deep seated cultural form of male dominance, but I thought it off that she’d control how when and where we’d have sex. 

Finally, after a month of this counseling, James said he knew enough about Gina and I and that I was ready for the next step.  He told me that to be able to either get over losing Gina or to reconnect with her, I’d have to experience what it was like to be her.  To experience life from her perspective.  I initially balked at the idea, but when he assured me this would lead to a guaranteed reconnection to Gina I relented.  I had to move out of my own house for a couple days while he set everything up and had to prepare for a full month of in-home therapy.  I dove deep into my sick time at work and got the time off and made sure that all my bills would be paid while I was home “working on me”. 

When I came back I was shocked at just how much information James had gotten from both our conversations and going through Gina’s and my communications.    My home looked like it did four years ago when Gina first moved in as a renter.  My room had been redone in it’s bachelor manner.  Our modern homey furniture had been removed and replaced with near replicas from my pre Gina days.  When he walked me into my office I saw that it had been disassembled and reformed back into Gina’s room.  As I opened the closet and found much of Gina’s old wardrobe, James told me that we were going to focus on me learning about Gina and not necessarily her relationship with me.  So while I’d be learning what Gina was experiencing by living from her perspective, he wouldn’t be playing my part.  He was still Dr Watson.  He was still James.  I was really relieved by that as Gina and I became sexually entangled rather quickly and I wasn’t sure I could ever think of that or act on that side of her. 

We started immediately and I was so glad that he’d had me take so much time off work.  Using the bottles of chemicals he provided I washed away all the hair on my body.  Gina had always spent a lot of time taking care of herself, so I was to do the same.  When I came out he inspected my body and had me remove the last little bits of hair with a razor.  Sitting me in front of the mirror he taught me the very basics of putting on makeup.  Gina was an expert at transforming her face and while James didn’t expect me to learn even half the techniques she had, he did insist I learn how to put on foundation, blush, lipstick, eyeshadow, and mascara.  I later learned that this would be the only time I’d ever see myself as all other mirrors had been removed.

He helped me fit a long dark brown wig onto my head and pinned it to my hair.  He even applied some adhesive saying that I wasn’t going to be taking the wig off for the remainder of our session.  I was surprised at how this full head of hair changed my posture and outlook.  I naturally tended to look down at the ground but this weight practically pulled my head up and made me look straight ahead.  Next was the clothes, and while he promised that I’d eventually see what Gina felt like when she wore something slinky and revealing, I started out with a comfortable pair of panties, some form fitting sweat pants, and a full support bra.  Just as I was about to ask about the sagging cups he presented me with some fairly realistic looking breast forms.  It was more than a little embarrassing to have him stand behind and help me slide them into the cups, but once they were there the very nature of the bra made it look and feel like I had breasts. 

After adding a loose fitting t-shirt we moved into the living room and sat down together.  At first it was awkward to talk about myself from Gina’s perspective but James’ gentle prodding and insistence that I speak in the first person made it easier and easier.  Several hours later I could see how this would work out over time as I’d already seen some things about myself from Gina’s perspective that I’d never thought of.  And so, while the rhythm of life was the same as before…. talking about dislikes in the morning, cleaning up after James and cooking for him in the afternoon, talking about likes in the evening… it was radically different at the same time. 

After our evening therapy James would make himself comfortable and make some notes on my laptop while watching television.  Before this conversion to Gina’s perspective I would sit and watch tv with him, but now that just felt more than a little odd.  I couldn’t stop thinking about how Gina and I started our lives together with her sitting in the chair while I took the couch and watched TV.  Then saying the chair was uncomfortable, she’d moved to the opposite side of the couch.  Then later, moved closer.  Then later moved to the point that we were cuddling up with one another.  So instead of watching television each night I spent it in ‘my’ room.  James had thought of everything as not only did he have the same books that Gina liked to read, he had her old stereo and connected iPod with her same selection of music.  Before I had converted Gina to liking the same blues and jazz that I did she was a fan of pure top 40, so now I would be lying in bed, reading a cheesy romance novel, bopping my head to  John Legend, Ed Sheeran, Sam Smith, and Pharrell Williams. 

Leaning how Gina felt about sensuality was quite difficult.  There just wasn’t anyway around knowing that some guy was lightly caressing my smooth bare skin.  Yes, I had underwear and a top on, but the fact that they were panties and a bra worked against me.  Finally, what really helped me over that hump was James blindfolding my eyes, putting some wireless Beats headphones over my ears, and letting me focus on the music while his gentle touch became secondary.  These ‘sensual touching’ sessions started out at 5 minutes but grew quickly.  By the end of the week I was being caressed for a full 30 minutes and it was most certainly getting to me.  I was so embarrassed when I felt my erection starting to tent out my panties, but James just shrugged it off and said it’s natural to feel embarrassed, because if Gina saw that she would have felt embarrassed too.  We fixed that problem with me wearing a tight dancers belt that pulled my equipment back between my legs.  After that, even when I would get aroused, my pantie line remained nice and smooth. 

After three weeks of this therapy I was both excited and frustrated.  I’d learned so much about how Gina thought and acted, but at the same time I couldn’t figure out why she’d left me or how we’d reconnect.  In fact, part of me was growing depressed as I was finding out that maybe I wasn’t the right man for Gina.  That night when I couldn’t think of more nice things to say about my boyfriend and instead just focused on things that bothered me about him, James said I was ready for the next step.  He said that I’d moved past the point of trying to be Gina and was ready to be her.  I really had no idea what me meant but my time of doubting his technique had long since past and I trusted his strong insistent approach to my therapy.  When he guided me into my petty room he had me strip down.  It actually felt odd to take the breast forms and the dancer’s belt off as they both really helped me feel feminine and like Gina.  Washing off my makeup made me realize why Gina wore some all the time as I didn’t feel pretty without it on.  Taking the wig off didn’t make me look back down to the floor, but it still changed my posture in ways that I didn’t like. 

Finally, when I was a bare-naked feminine feeling man standing in front of James he said that I had to trust him and not interrupt.  That he’d help me get over that last step.  When he pulled out the little pink gun I immediately recognized it as a piercing gun and knew that my nose would soon be wearing the same ring that Gina always wore.  Part of me wanted to protest as I knew it would take weeks for a piercing like that to fully heal, but five seconds and a quick flare of pain later and he had that silver ring in my left nostril. 

Next up James handed me a strappy pair of my shoes.  I’d gotten accustomed to wearing some chunky low heels but these were four inches and ended in a narrow point.  I bit back my urge to deny this embarrassment and slipped the heels on.  I could feel my feet tingle as I stood up and was surprised that I balanced on them just fine.  Next came a pair of my lacy hot pink panties.  I again had to hold back a denial as I was used to wearing mostly full covering ‘granny panties’ and not anything approaching this mini silk thong, but again was surprised as they slid up my legs.  The silk touching my skin made me wonder why I’d never tried them before as it felt absolutely amazing against my baby smooth skin.  The tingling sensation continued as I pulled them snuggly but gently into place and felt that little string slide between my rear cheeks.  I had thought I’d feel an almost uncomfortable pressure from the front of these pressing against my swinging free penis but instead I just felt a warmth that said it fit me just right. 

James stopped me from looking down by handing me a matching hot pink shelf bra.  Instead of even considering a denial I simply nodded and slipped it on.  As I reached behind me to hook it in place James reached around and evidently slid the breast forms in as I felt their comfortable weight return.  I knew that all of James’ work was paying off in spades as I could swear I felt the lace of the bra rub over my nipple… the nipple that was behind the latex breast form.  He followed the bra with a white shirt that had come out from my old closet.  When I again tried to look down and see what the forms looked like framed by the white cotton broad cloth and the pink shelf bra, James stopped me with his finger and thumb on my chin.  Even his touch felt special as my chin went all pins and needles.  I felt my whole body shiver as he towered over me and started making up my face.  The brush of foundation was almost numbing but the blush and other cosmetics returned the sensation.  It was only as he had me pout and started painting on the lipstick that I felt the first pang of something wrong.  He was still holding his finger and thumb on my chin making me look up into his eyes… but I was wearing heels.  And James and I were both the same height. 

I can’t say I forgot about that physical impossibility, but it was distinctly pushed from my consciousness when James leaned in and kissed me.  The thought of kissing him had of course crossed my mind on many occasions.  It felt like the therapy almost had to lead there as the sensuality I was learning to experience was an extension of sexuality.  And, oh God, did we ever like kissing.  But where I thought it would be a hill to steep to cross… kissing a man… I instead felt my arms wrap around his broad chest and pull him in tight as I moaned into his mouth and gave myself to him.  I can’t say he was aggressive, actually he was quite gentle, but there was no doubt that he was kissing me.  I was being kissed and not being the active kisser.  I felt his body heat spread through me as he pulled me in close, mashing my breasts against him and making me feel his obvious hard on press against my belly. 

When his lips left mine I took in a deep breath and could only blink at him, fully amazed and full of questions.  Before I could even think of what to ask first though, his hand glided up my back, over my neck, up to the back of my head and pulled me into another deep carnal kiss.  As I let out only the most minimal of whines at being manhandled like this his hand remained on my head, gently pulling through my short hair.  His other hand slid down and cupped my ass, lifting it’s curve letting it wiggle and shake in response.  When I felt his tongue lick at my lips I couldn’t help but open my mouth to him.  It’s not that I wanted to be so intimate with him.  Instead as his hand grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head back it was obvious that this is what he wanted me to feel. 

His hand on my fleshy rear slide between us and glided over the front of my panties and while I couldn’t feel my own hard on I could feel the moistness of what must have been precum.  His hand moving flat over my crotch sent such thrills to me that I didn’t even wonder how I could remain soft with this much sexual energy in the air.  I was completely lost in this moment though and even when we parted long enough to breathe I longed for him to press his lips to mine again.  It wasn’t until I felt his hand gather up my hair into a temporary ponytail and felt it brush over my back that I felt something terrible wrong. 

I hadn’t put the wig on. 

James felt me stiffen and broke the kiss.  This time my protest actually started to spill out but I was silenced by James’ finger on my plump tingling lips.  With an arm still around my shoulder he turned me so that we were facing the mirror and I saw the impossible.  James was holding next to him the beautiful, blushing, sexy, trembling Gina.  This time he didn’t stop me to from looking down, but as the reflection of Gina mirrored my actions I already knew what I’d see… and seeing my breasts from this perspective didn’t disappoint. 

I was still trembling when James led me to sit in the living room.  I tried to pull the shirt around my breasts so brazenly on display but it was never going to be big enough.  Finally I sat with my legs curled up under me, putting my side to James as he sat down and explained what had happened.  He started by telling me he was as surprised as I was that this was the outcome.  While he had planned on letting me feel like Gina as part of my therapy, he never thought I’d take to it as well as I did.  So instead of ending it a week in as planned, and moving on to building up my masculine self-esteem, he let me continue to explore that side of myself.  And as I continued onto on my journey to learn not what Gina was feeling but instead feeling what my own feminine self felt he had reached out to her. 

Talking to her he realized that this wasn’t a matter of me changing to be compatible with her.  Instead this was a matter of me learning to accept what I really was.  That my generous soul was exactly the feminine soul I thought I was looking for before.  That Gina’s sensual and sexual nature bothered me not because I wanted to be aggressive with her but that deep down I wanted to be submissive to a strong man.  While I thought Gina’s not cleaning up bothered me it was in fact my inner self screaming out that my own actions were supposed to be that of a woman taking care of her man.  And that worse, on some level, Gina had sensed that in me.  While she didn’t know the extent of my inner demons, she knew that she herself wanted a strong powerful man in her life and that I just was never going to be that for her. 

James pulled me close to him as he continued by telling me that it was his learned opinion that Gina and I shared that trait… that I was looking for a strong powerful man to be in my life.  As I shivered against his broad chest with his strong arm around me I couldn’t deny what he was saying.  No, I didn’t think of myself as a woman and no I didn’t think I was attracted to men…. but at the same time I felt right in his arms.  I felt that he wasn’t forcing me to be this close to him, instead he was simply putting me where he wanted me to be and I was accepting that as my place. 

After tilting my chin up for another toe curling kiss he told me that I’d live for a week in this body and that he’d help me with whatever I learned in that week.  If after seven days in the body of my former girlfriend, living as the girlfriend to the man living in this house, I wanted to return to my old life he’d change me back.  He’d even help me through more therapy to find what I was really looking for in a partner.  But if I couldn’t deny that I felt right after those seven days, I’d remain like this forever.  And while it went unsaid as he pulled me in for more kissing I knew what that would mean.  Afterall he agreed with me what was attractive in both a woman’s body and her sense of self… and it seemed that I was that exact woman.  I was what I thought was my perfect woman and that meant I was HIS perfect woman. 

That night I curled up in bed and didn’t sleep a wink.  While I was happy to be alone, I’m not sure I could have stopped him from pulling me into his bed.  James though was the gentleman he appeared to be and after necking for over an hour he said I needed to get some rest.  I watched him move into his bedroom, his hardon still tenting out his pants.  Laying there in the dark, my fingers eventually found their way between my legs and while there was a pang of loss when I didn’t feel my equipment there it was surpassed by the amazing velvety smoothness of the slick lips there waiting for my exploration.  Exploration, however, is all I performed as it still felt wrong to be aroused in this way.  Even the next morning while I showered and felt the rivulets of water running over my breasts and tickling my overly sensitive nipples, I refused to indulge. 

James lived up to his word that we were to live as boyfriend and girlfriend.  He touched me often in the most casual ways.  A simple hand in the small of my back.  His fingers brushing the hair from my face.  Hips tongue licking away a bit of cream from my lips.  He didn’t ever force me to do anything but strongly encouraged me to do the same and soon enough I was learning what his body felt like under my own touch.  Pulling his shirt on for him and buttoning it up.  Pulling his shoes off and giving him a foot massage.  Sitting in his lap and resting my head on his shoulder. 

I think I surprised him the next day when he asked how I liked orgasming as a woman.  My deep red blush told him without a word that I hadn’t experienced that yet.  He just nodded and agreed it was something hard to get over alone, but that it was important for me to feel what a woman experienced.  When he got up and stepped into his room I felt a deep urge to follow even though I was still afraid of having that more intimate of touch with him.  Thankfully he returned a few moments later with a large expensive wand massager.  I had no idea what he planned for it until he positioned me. 

He sat down in the center of the couch with his legs spread wide and had me undress to my bra and panties.  Once sufficiently disrobed he directed me to sit in between his legs, my ass in contact with the crotch of his slacks.  With a quick action he pulled my legs apart and laid them over his leaving me lewdly spread eagle and leaning back against his chest.  And then with only a murmured reminder to let him take over he began.  At first it was just his hands caressing my bare, goose bump covered skin.  After a moment of tenseness I could feel myself relaxing into his touch.  A moment later and he was directly cupping and caressing my breasts coaxing small quiet moans from me.  And just as I started to wiggle my hips in arousal his hand found the moist front of my panties and started warmly touching and holding me down there.  Another moment of my tenseness was worn away by his gentle touch and when I was pressing up against his palms, seeking more direct pleasure he turned on the massager and pressed it against me. 

I’d of course watched porn before and had seen a woman masturbate with one of these massagers and always found it disappointing in its obvious fakeness.  I had always believed there was no way a woman could get off with just the vibrating touch of some plastic… but I learned that I was so incredibly wrong.  My quiet whimpering moans grew in intensity until my mouth opened fully and filled the room with the sound of my voice.  Moans turned into cries and cries turned into screams.  And while the physical touch of the want was centered on my pussy and specifically on my clit, my whole body was responding it it’s magic.  I could feel my belly clench and tighten as the sensation grew.  I could feel my breasts grow even more sensitive under James’s touch while my face burned with redness.  My toes curled up and I started to hump against the wand when James’ fingers reached up to slide over my open lips.  It was certainly nothing I planned to experience but I didn’t let out a bit of denial as he slide two of his fingers into my mouth.  And while my lips pressing against the fingers quieted my screams back to whimpers a part of the explosion of pleasure was received from those fingers gliding in and out of my mouth. 

The orgasm was nothing like what I thought it might be.  The wave of pleasure wasn’t overwhelming and all consuming as my masculine orgasms were, but it didn’t stop and I felt it from the top of my head to the soles of my feet.  Every inch of me came alive and experienced this pleasure, not just the portion between my legs.  And even as I came down, James never stopped his motions.  His fingers continued to slide lewdly in and out of my mouth and his wand continued it’s travels over my slick wet nether regions.  And soon enough the rising calming after affect of an orgasm raced and was replaced with another swelling.  Another wave.  Another mind blowing orgasm. 

I lost count of how many times James made me cum.  I believe the only reason he stopped at all was that it was so overwhelming for me, that never ending constantly cresting wave of pleasure, that I practically passed out.  Breathing deep, trying to make my heart slow down to a livable level, James moved our bodies and laid me down on the couch.  I instinctively curled up into a fetal position, still feeling the ping ponging pleasure bouncing from body part to body part, when I noticed just how much my body reacted.  My bangs were sweaty and snacked around my face.  My panties were never going to be wearable again as they’d soaked up all of my juices they could and even left a large liquid spot on the seat cushion.  And while I was covered in sweat I couldn’t help but notice an even wetter spot on my ass cheeks.  Reaching back I felt a stickiness so familiar to me that I blushed again.  Of course he’d cum with my body writhing against his erection and my moaning screaming voice filling his ears. 

The next day James convinced me to try the experience again, but this time with a frighteningly realistic vibrating dildo.   I soon found myself in the same position, spread wide between his legs with him gliding the vibrating penis over me just as the day before.  After my first orgasm he slowly slid this new toy deep inside me and I soon learned that yesterday’s exercise in orgasms was mild compared to what I was feeling now.  But while my mind was processing the fact that I was being penetrated over and over again, I couldn’t help but let part of me focus on the hardness behind me.  I couldn’t imagine how frustrating it must be to feel my body involuntarily wiggle and press against him, and yet James wasn’t doing anything which would seem obvious.  He wasn’t pulling back into him, forcing more contact.  He wasn’t humping up against me even as I was wildly bucking.  So when his fingers again found their way in between my lips I forced myself to share my pleasures with him.  As he continued to pound away the dildo into my waiting and wanting pussy I started to directly buck against him, directing my newfound energies into rubbing up against that harness practically pressing between my ass cheeks.  Soon enough my efforts were rewarded with a pulsing and a wetness back there that brought a smile to my sucking lips. 

The next day after an afternoon shaking the whole house with my orgasms and screams of pleasure and after rubbing James enough to give him two orgasms of his own, he invited me to spend the night in his bed.  Initially I didn’t even answer him as the thought was frightening.  More so than the thought of sleeping next to a man was the fact that he distinctly asked me.  He told me I was going to stay in this body and I accepted it.  He told me I was going to experience an orgasm and I accepted it.  He told me I was going to experience being penetrated and I accepted it.  But this wasn’t that… I was being asked if I wanted to sleep next to him.  And as much as I now think of this as the moment my life truly changed…. I couldn’t help but admit that I did want to sleep with him. 

Spooning with James was so wrong and at the same time so right.  Feeling his body behind me, pulling me in and keeping me safe.  He slept in the nude and did insist that I do the same, but he never even suggested we have sex of any kind.  But that didn’t prevent his cock from growing behind me and pressing against my unprotected ass.  I’m still not sure what I was trying harder to do… lay still or press harder back into him.  When I woke up our positions had changed.  I felt his hand laying possessively over my head, gently caressing my cheek and even before I opened my eyes I could feel the heat from his body washing over my face.   Opening my eyes I was immediately reward with a clear view of his hard cock.  It was pointed right at my throat, close enough that I could lean forward and kiss it.  And as that thought started to wander around my mind I looked up and saw that he was wide awake and smiling down at me.  Looking back at his manhood I smiled too… knowing that I was making my boyfriend hard. 

Even in that intimate moment, James didn’t force or even ask me to have relations with him.  I have no doubt that I would have agreed and took his manhood into my mouth while I swallowed my own manhood away forever.  But later he told me that if I were going to make that decision it had to be fully 100% my choice.  That even a happenstance positioning in bed couldn’t be part of my persuasion.  And even though a big part of me wanted to return to my life as a man and was thankful I got out of that moment of weakness, I nodded understanding why this was so important. 

The next several days were spent with James helping me to experience being a woman in a sensual way.  While we were both distinctly aware of his arousal he refused to relent into his own desires and stayed focused on me.  But during the throughs of my own pleasure I often helped him cum with me.  By the time the seventh day dawned I knew what I’d have to do. 

After showering I sat down in front of the mirror and stared at the beautiful vision in front of me.  Sometime in the last 6 days I had stopped seeing myself as Gina and just started seeing my face.  I could still remember what I looked like as a man but while it was familiar it didn’t make me happy.  I’d always thought that came from an honest acknowledgement that I just wasn’t classically handsome.  I wasn’t any kind of Brad Pitt or George Clooney.  But now I realized that it wasn’t that at all.  While I applied my cosmetics, I realized that I hadn’t liked my face because it wasn’t mind.  It was a man’s face.  This was my face now and if I wanted to keep it I had to show my boyfriend that I accepted it. 

I didn’t bother with more than a brief brush through my hair as my plan would lead to it getting mussed up anyway.  Instead, without a stitch of clothing on, I stepped back into James’ room and woke him up with a soft but loving kiss.  When his eyes were open and he was starting to pull me into his loving arms I instead broke the kiss and took his hand in mine.  I couldn’t force him if I tried but I still guided my man out of his room and into my softer feminine room.  Standing him in front of my bed I smiled and reached down to touch his cock.  It felt like a bolt of electricity running through him and into my arm but I didn’t let go, instead wrapping my fingers around it’s growing girth while my eyes stayed locked on his.  In a clear voice I told him that a month ago I was so confused and frustrated and lonely and thought that was all due to my girlfriend leaving me, but now I was clear eyed and open minded.  I knew what I wanted and it was all thanks to him.  As his lips parted to say something I smiled and reached up to press my finger to his lips, shushing him as he’d done to me before. 

After hugging him and whispering into his ear that I knew what I had to do, I knelt down in front of him.  I gave his cock one final squeeze before placing my hands between my thighs and looking up into his eyes.  Even an hour ago I thought that there might be one last barrier to break through, that I’d have to force myself to not show the struggle behind my eyes.  But as I leaned forward and took him between my lips I didn’t feel any doubt or any worry or concern. 

I felt at home. 

source:  fuskator
I was feeling pretty good this morning and like often happens when I got to write an Obsurra got caught up in something a lot bigger than I thought it would initially be.  Most of the time that happens, however, I'm just fleshing out the story I already had in my head.  I'm adding more details and additional little side stories that enhance the initial thrust of the idea.  But this one was radically different.

My initial idea was that a guys girlfriend leaves him and he goes to a counselor to get help in getting over her.  The therapist says that to get over her he'll have to experience what it ws to be her and he'd magically transform him into a doppelganger of the girlfriend.  The story though would center on the transformation.  I had whole passages written out in my head about how the shoes changed his feet, how the panties changes his legs and penis.  I even had a whole part describing the eagle tattoo he had on his leg becoming the boat tattoo that she has.  And once he was transformed into her the therapist would admit that the girlfriend had actually dated him years ago and had left him for the current transformed ex boyfriend.  And now that he had the girlfriend's body back, he was going to train 'her' into loving him and doting on him and never leaving him again.  And then somehow work the blowjob into it (initial thought was that everything transformed outside but the cock sucking would change the voice and actions... but I wasn't married to that idea).

But as I got writing, the story just didn't unfold that way.  I started feeling more sentimental and instead of fighting it and trying to curve back into my story idea, I went with it.  A friend over on D+X told me recently that I was deep down a romantic and that it showed through my stories.  As I thought about that, I really didn't like it.  I like being funny or erotic or sexy or even toe curling humiliating... but not romantic.  But the more I read my work through that lens, the more I saw that it was always there.  Not all the time... but generally when I strayed further away from that theme, it turned into something I wasn't happy with.  So this story is a result of that assessment from a friend and my own self reflection.  And, well, maybe more will come out like this if I stop fighting it and just accept that I'm a big romantic softy.

1 comment:

  1. Reading this actually gave me tears of happiness for our heroine. The changes felt organic and internalized, and I am glad you let the external aspect be more in the mind of the reader. At first, I thought that was only where it was until I read further and saw that she had indeed changed physically.
    But more important was how her self-acceptance and trust had grown until her mind confirmed what her opened heart already had come to understand. She was indeed a female soul through and through, now reflected in the mirror as well.
    And she was in love.
    *sniffle* You rock, as always, hon. You've never written better, IMO. *��