Sunday, August 15, 2021

Dear Marci


Beware when the wives set up a guy's trip for their husbands. 

Dear Marci,

They say that I need to write you like you were my friend from college.  I want to write to you as my wife, but the only way they’d let me near the typewriter is to agree to that.  So.  Um.  I can’t delete this shit.  Why a typewriter?  I guess its just another “rule” they don’t tell us.  You knew about this, right?  You knew that the goal of this place was to change guys into girls.  Well, I hope you did because it’s most definitely what they’re about and they’re fucking good at it. 

I’ve included a photo of me and the guys.  The gals?  That sounds stupid.  Anyway, since you won’t recognize any of us, that’s Dave on the left in the skimpy bikini.  Bunny.  They make him go by Bunny now.  His hand is on my shoulder in the normal onesie.  Terry’s next to me in the onesie with the white trim and the slutty looking one on the right is Marcus.  Not Dave, Alec, Terry, and Marcus anymore, although we still try to use those names as much as possible, but Bunny, Bliss, Brooklyn, and Betty.  Why the ‘B’ names?  Another thing I don’t know. 


Here’s what I do know.  We get daily shots.  I’m pretty sure there’s a whole cocktail in it of female hormones, male hormone suppressors, and something to make us more compliant.  Because trust me, I most certainly do NOT want to obey them as much as I do.  I just can’t help it.  Anyway, the whole place is like a mixture of beach resort and summer college.  We take classes in the morning and afternoon.  We get to work out first thing after breakfast and swim just before dinner.  That’s where the photo was snapped.  I’m still getting my head around the classes as some of them are real college classes.  I took advanced calculus which should have been a breeze.   But some are just weird pervert fantasy of what college girls learn about.  They keep making me take a blow job class that I fail because I refuse to do the practical.  The practical’s name is Jerry by the way and he proves that not all guys here are in the our program… but he IS a student like us.  Or are we guests?  I don’t know, but he says he can’t leave either.  He’s just getting more manly instead of feminine. 

So, we get ‘rewarded’ with anything that we do that they deem as more feminine or feminizing.  Like our swimsuits.  The more overtly sexual you are, the skimpier they get.  I won’t even take my practice blow job dildo to my dorm room, so I keep the beginners swimsuit.  Brook… fuck fuck fuck… Terry at least practices most nights on it but still fails the class, so she got the white trim. Betty just passed the class last Wednesday and got her bikini.  And Bunny?  Oh they messed her up something fierce.  She’s an addict for the guys and they give her the supply she’s after all they want.  I know it’s Dave under that blonde bimbo’s giggle and bouncing melon tits, but she keeps trying to get Brook and me to go out with her and her current steady boyfriend Brian.  And by steady, I mean this week. 

I don’t know what we did for the hair, but evidently me and Betty are good at it while Bunny and Brook aren’t as good.  I don’t style my hair like this, it just comes out.  I think the breasts are about our language.  Brook and I swear like sailors while Bunny hasn’t said anything harsher than ‘dang’ for a couple weeks now. 

Look, I don’t know what the end game here is.  Everybody acts like nothing is changing.  They acted like we were four college guys on summer break when we got here and are acting like we’re four college girls now.  They swear we all came in like we are and are just helping us out.  I know you had something to do with this.  Right?  I mean you and the wives bought our tickets.  Maybe you know what’s going to happen and how we get out of here.  I’m just willing to do just about anything to get back home at this point.  I’ve accepted I can’t change back… is that the drugs making me think that, or just the inevitability of it all?  I don’t know, but I want to be home with you.  Bunny has no interest in women and I don’t want to lose my desire for you, even if you did this to me.  So, if you know how I can get out… graduate, escape, lie, bribe… let me know and I’ll do it.  If you can just pull the plug, then let me know what you need and I’ll provide it.  And if you don’t know, then take this to the authorities and get us the fuck out of here. 

Anyway, we’re college friends so I guess I can’t wait to see you back next semester.  We’ll  be on the swim team or cheerleader squad or whatever else college girls do. 

Your husband Alec.   Your friend Bliss. 


Source:  Discord server

4 comments:

  1. The story is absolutely fantastic, and the picture is great! I especially love how you worked in all the visual information from the picture into the story. It works really well!

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  2. I love the classic storytelling device of "the letter" combined with the naive narrator unaware that the wife is so obviously in on it. And every pixel of the picture is utilized to inspire the exposition. Loved it.

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  3. Thanks Vanilla and realfield! Yeah, I kept going back to the photo and the photo had a lot more to give than I first thought. I'm glad I saw someone post it on the discord as it worked as perfect inspiration.

    And realfield, yeah, I like the letter trope too. It's fun to write something one sided leaving the other party to be a mystery.

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  4. This was a great story. I like how despite the inevitability of the situation and the knowledge that his wife is responsible he/she still loves her enough to want to hold onto that part of her life.

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