Doing as I'm told

Whether I want to or not

It didn’t matter that he was always right, I still felt the tears well up as I started to cry.  This time, as he pulled me down on to his naked lap, he told me that I’d soon look forward to feeling his cock harden underneath me. 

That’s it.  Just one simple statement.  As a heterosexual man I knew that it would never be true.  It couldn’t ever be true.  But the past few weeks have proven my instincts wrong over and over again. 

It started when my car broke down.  Without any cell coverage this far out I grabbed my overnight bag and had to go up to the first house I found and ask the owner to use their phone.  He answered the door, looked me up and down like a cowboy appraising a prize winning cow, and said I could come in but that no one would end up coming out and that I’d end up spending the night.  His truth was made full when I finally contacted the nearest tow company and they said they were booked solid and couldn’t get to my car until the morning. 

I thanked my unnamed benefactor when he showed me to the guest room.  He just shrugged off my appreciation and said I would make him breakfast in the morning.  I couldn’t cook, so I knew he was wrong, but I surprised myself as the sun rose.  I woke up earlier than I ever did at home and found it quite simple to whip up some eggs and hashbrowns for him.  When he came down to the morning meal he didn’t seem surprised at all that it was there waiting for him.  After the last forkful entered his mouth he causually told me that he was going to get to work but that I would clean up the kitchen, then go shower and make myself pretty.

I laughed off the obvious joke about making myself pretty for anybody, but figured it would be rude to not at least clean up the mess I’d made.  An hour later after cleaning the dishes, scouring the countertops, and mopping the floor I went up to get my things.  But as I passed the bathroom I figured I probably had better at least shower.  I assumed this was where his girlfriend stayed as the shower had only some flowery smelling body wash and a seemingly endless supply of shampoos and conditioners.  After drying myself with the softest towel I’d ever felt, I wiped off the mirror and brushed my teeth.  I know what was going on now, but at the time I figured it would just be a funny joke.  I was sure the lipstick would clean off later after I made him laugh at my attempt to be pretty. 

When I came down with my bag of clothes in hand, ready to thank him for the hospitality he just called out over his shoulder that I should throw away my bag and watch some television until he was done.   It seemed rude to just tell him off, so I put my bag outside the front door and made myself comfortable in front of the TV.  I flicked through the guide to find ESPN but ended up watching some rom-com on the hallmark channel instead. 

Just as the credits rolled he came over and smiled down at me.  I’d almost forgotten about the lipstick until he leaned down and told me I’d enjoy this.  I didn’t know what he meant until he cupped the back of my head and pulled me in for a kiss.  This was no joking peck of this lips… he slid his tongue into my mouth and kissed me for a good solid two minutes. 

And I liked it. 

I didn’t want to.  Men don’t like getting kissed by other men.  But my engorged cock said otherwise to my confused male ego.  When he pulled away and I gasped for breath he said that I’d have to work harder to make myself pretty and earn another kiss.  That I’d have to color my hair and let it grow out.  I opened my mouth to protest and at least feign that I didn’t want another kiss, but he then said I’d only speak when spoken to, and then only in response to a question.  My mouth snapped shut in surprise and stayed that way.  He waited several moments and when I didn’t say anything he nodded knowingly and told me that I’d clean up his house for him. 

As he walked back to his computer he told me that I would end up hating the rough men’s clothes I was wearing by the end of the day.  As I found the closet with all the cleaning materials I figured I’d tell him that he was wrong when I started to clean his den.  That I liked my old worn T-shirt and ripped jeans.  But while I was doing his laundry I found that the T-shirt did feel kind of rough on my skin.  I went ahead and took it off, tossing it into the trash and found that while folding the laundry that the silky fabrics of the women’s clothing felt much better against my soft hairless skin. 

By the time I got to his den I had nothing to tell him as my jeans were thrown away.  The only thing that felt comfortable was the thong panties I’d found in the spare bedroom dresser and the silky kimono robe.  While I was vacuuming behind him he reached around and smacked my ass.  I yelped in surprise and moved away as he told me that I wouldn’t mind that later when my ass grew a little more curvy and a little more sensitive.  I don’t know how any man slapping my ass could feel good, but as I was on my hands and knees polishing the baseboards he proved to be right.  Him slapping my ass did feel good.  I only wondered for a moment when my ass had grown enough to look sexy in the thong.

I made him lunch after he told me that I’d never want him to go hungry, and then made him dinner without even thinking about it later that night.  As we sat at the table, him eating his medium rare steak and me eating my salad and vinaigrette dressing, he told me that I’d always realize what was going on but that I already knew it was happening.  That he was going to make me over into his ideal lover. 

I tried very hard to tell him to fuck off… but I couldn’t speak.  He just nodded in seeming understanding and reminded me that he told me I could only speak when spoken to and when answering a question.  As the horror of it all started to sink in and the first of many tears trickled down my cheek he added that I’d never refuse him and that I’d never say the word ‘no’ to him. 

That night he set me up in front of his computer.  He said that I was sexually frustrated and that he’d help.  He set up a playlist of porn videos for me to watch and said that I would practice what I was watching.  For the first few videos I tried to practice, but grew more and more frustrated as all the videos were of lovely blonde women giving blow jobs and my hand just didn’t feel right on my hard to rise cock.  When he walked by and placed the realistic dildo on the desk my eyes widened in surprise and understanding.  I hated every minute of it, and now I’m sure that’s only because he didn’t tell me I’d enjoy it, but for the next four hours I had that dildo in my mouth practicing everything I watched. 

By the time he finally patted me lovingly on the head and told me to go to bed my jaw ached at being jacked open by the rubber cock and my throat was sore from having learned to deep throat it. 

The days progressed in a haze.  He never seemed rushed, but he had me doing everything for him and kept making more and more effeminate.  He had me wearing a maid’s outfit for a couple days and then replaced it with tight shorts to show off my curves.  I sobbed when he had us watch movies together, each time telling me I’d like to be touched some place and then having him touch me there for the rest of the flick.  My feet, which grew smaller and more feminine the next day.  My legs, which shrunk down and smoothed out that night.  My belly which shrunk away overnight.  And finally my breasts which grew enough to fill out the bra he had me wearing the next morning. 

My morning ritual became more complicated with all the lotions and creams and cosmetics he told me I’d learn to use.  And I knew it was more complicated as he had me increasingly help him through his morning.  At first it was laying out his clothes, but that was followed by me helping him dress.  As I learned to tuck his thick cock to the left before pulling up his boxers, I realized it was probably the same size as the dildo I was still practicing with.  The next morning I had to help him shower and his cock grew to hardness as I soaped it up… and yes, it was the same size as the dildo.  I was shaking in fear at that point, afraid he’d tell me to continue my practice right there in the shower, but he told me to do something worse.  He told me I’d dream about pleasing him all night.  Every night. 

And I did. 

My last escape from his commands was taken from me as each night I dreamed of performing what I practiced on him.  Just as the porn star cried out when she was taken by her man, I shrieked as he took me from behind.  Her moans were mine as his cock invaded my throat.  Her smile of satisfaction was my grin as he came all over my face. 

Every night I was his compliant and almost eager slut, and every day he made me grow closer to that nighttime version.  He changed my body.  He changed my actions.  But except for keeping me silent he never changed my mind. 

And now here I am.  He said it.  And as much as my heart tells me I’ll never like feeling his cock grow under my soft curvy ass, I know it’s true.  Just like I know when I’ll be done with his transformation.  He told me last night to book a quick marriage in Cancun.  I’m sure by March I’ll fit perfectly in the beautiful white dress and lingerie I picked out and had shipped here. 

I know there’s no way out of this now.  Hope has died and all I can wish for now is that he’ll tell me I love being his wife.  All the brides in the videos he has me watching seem to love their new husbands while they suck and fuck and teach me to suck and fuck.  

source:  fuskator