Christie and Steven were two of my best friends. I eventually told Christie I couldn't come to the wedding because I was in love with her. We'd all met at an architecture program in Wisconsin. I ended up dropping out and becoming an accountant but not before we'd all had an incredible two years together. I was older because I'd spent some time out of school and then tried to go back. Anyway, that was four years ago. I'd just turned thirty two–they're both twenty six–and I felt like my life was over.
I thought I'd live some grand adventure. I always thought life would be like the movies. But I was just too soft, too lazy, to ever do anything remarkable. I wasn't a complete slob or vagrant. Nothing obvious. I would just sit around and collapse after a day of work. I'd binge watch TV instead of practicing some difficult art. I'd exhaust myself on pornography instead of exercising or chasing true love. As I went to talk to Christie, to shrug out of her wedding, I could see my whole life toiling out ahead of me, locked-in on a boring path all the way to the grave.
It was a cold October when I told Christie and we were having coffee in a little shop in Madison, Wisconsin; she cried and felt uncomfortable and didn't know how to handle it. "No, this isn't happening, Evan. I'm not losing you." I told her I knew I wasn't good enough for her. I'd accepted that Steve was a better fit for her–we both knew what I meant was he was a better man than me in nearly every aspect.
The next day they were both back at the coffee shop with a very uncomfortable me. They handed me a list and said they thought it would be easier if I just had it in writing. I read it in front of them. This was the strangest moment thus far in my life. It was a sheet, in Christie's handwriting, of stipulations for me to become Steve's…I don't know how else to put it: girlfriend. I knew I was blushing as I read it. I hardly knew how to respond. I felt really, really angry. I didn't even know why. I was worried I was going to cry. And the thought of smooth nylon sliding over my own smooth, shaved legs suddenly made me shiver. But I was a common, stylishly dressed, heterosexual guy. I didn't even know why they would offer this. I felt myself choking up with anger and embarrassment and I didn't know how to respond so I slammed myself up, knocked over the chair on accident, spat out "Never talk to me again!" and stormed away.
"Ev!" I heard Christie call behind me, and saw Steve holding her back and then they were gone.
Three months passed and not much changed. I started drinking more. I tried to hit bars and meet girls but I couldn't really handle making personal connections with people. I got messier. I didn't bother to cut my hair. I started showing up to work later more often than on time and missed a bunch of days. I didn't realize it but I was on the edge of getting fired. I obsessed over the fact that Steve and Christie basically thought I should become a woman for them–that I was that much of a failure as a man that the girl I loved thought I shouldn't be one.
I'd always been touchy about my body. I used to get comments in locker rooms, and one time at college one of the jocks had been making "jokes" after I was done working out: "Hey honey this is the guy's changing room–look at that big, wet, girly butt bouncing out of the shower. I guess if she's in here she must want it, huh? Someone needs to discipline this slut for breaking rules just because she's horny." I didn't know what the fuck was going on or how to respond. But then he ripped my towel away, threw me stomach-first onto a wet bench, threw his thigh over my waist, and spanked me, hard. My butt was fat enough to jiggle, and I was cursing and struggling and mortified.
All his friends were so shocked that they were driven to nervous, then hysterical laughter. But I could feel my back arching under his blows, and I realized mortified that my cock was plumping up. And then I felt his pressing into my thigh, rock hard. He stuck his finger into my mouth for me to suck, and I was too afraid to bite it. "What the fuck, dude?" I heard.
And then Christie was there shoving him off of me and cursing at him, and Steven right after her tossing me a towel.
So yeah, I was touchy about my physique. I started trying to workout after work, when I went, but I kept ending up doing just squats and leg lifts while I watched pornography on a widescreen I'd bought. Lurid images of Steven and Christie, the girl I loved, doing degrading, humiliating, disgusting things to my body kept forcing themselves unsummoned on my mind. My bottom and thighs only got bigger and fatter. I started covering my body in oil and lotion when I masturbated and always felt deep shame afterwards.
So, anyway, three months passed and I got an envelope in the mail. The letter was written on rich, thick paper in dark ink, in Christie's hand. She told me to come to her new house if I wanted to prove I was man enough for her. I didn't. I liked Christie and Steven both. A lot. I didn't want to ruin a relationship that was better than I could give. But I loved Christie. Deep down I guess I did want to split them up and take Steven's place.
Christie met me at the door in tight faded jeans, a grey v-neck tee, and black canvas sneakers. Her blonde hair fell in gorgeous curls and shone like gold. An ornate key dangled between her breasts and I had a brief fantasy that it connected to a chastity belt she'd let me unlock to ravish her. She smiled at me and I stepped in mumbling a greeting and said, "Is Steve here? What's this about?"
She locked the door behind me with the key on her neck, slunk over to me, wrapped her arms around me neck, and pressed her warm, wet lips onto mine. I felt her tongue push into my mouth and then she pulled away breathily. I wrapped my arms around her waist. We'd never kissed before. That was our first kiss. There was a line of spit still connecting our lips. "Evan, you're going to agree to be a girl for Steve. If you agree you can leave. If you don't I'm going to force you to and you'll never be allowed to leave–we'll keep you as a slave and a maid instead of his girlfriend."
I shoved her off of me pretty hard and she hit the door and I spat out "Fuck, sorry! But what the fuck is wrong with you? You're acting like, like a fucking freak show, insane…I mean what the fuck–where the fuck did you even get this from! I mean, I'm fucking sorry but I don't want to be–"
"Yes you fucking do! And you're a coward and you won't admit it! I fucking love you Ev and I love Steve and I'm trying to find a way to make this work!"
"Christie give me the key and get out of the way."
"There's razors, cream, and lingerie in the bathroom. Go and shower and shave yourself for Steve. It's not too late to agree. The other doors are locked too. There's no easy way out."
I was blushing crimson and so was she, partially from exertion and partially from intense embarrassment at the situation. Her mouth was set though and her eyes were intense and focused like when she was laying out a blueprint. I drank in how simply gorgeous she was and it made me want to cry.
"I'm not going to fucking fight a girl Christ'. I'm not going to fight you especially. Just give me the fucking key."
She dropped into a little fighter's stance and threw her hand out. "If you make one more move, say one more thing, that's not going to the bathroom and prepping for Steve, I'm going to take that as a 'No' to the offer and I'm going to force you to become my slave instead." I could see tears in her eyes and her face was a brighter crimson than I'd ever seen it–I couldn't tell if it was from how upsetting this was for her, or fear, or stress, or just that she couldn't quite believe the absurdity of what she was doing herself.
I went to grab the key and push her out of the way in one motion–my hand was shaking from how upset I was–and she grabbed my arm, pulled me forward, and with two swift motions of her long, lithe leg she drove her knee deep into my stomach and then my crotch. You don't think you will, but when you get hit that hard you crumple to your knees. All I could think about for a moment was not puking. She spun around and kicked me hard in the face and I slammed into a pile on the floor.
"What the fuck!" I nearly screamed out. She was pressing her attack–she seemed desperate to get me down for good while she had the surprise. And then all of a sudden I still loved Christie, but I wanted to hurt her bad with everything I had. I flew off the ground and plowed my shoulder into her stomach and all the air went out of her with a shocked little gasp. She tried to fight back, I lifted her off the ground, stumbled forward into the next room, smashed into her coffee table, and we both crashed into the floor. I landed on top of her and she let out an anguished moan and then her lithe body went limp.
"Fuck, Christie I'm sorry!" I rolled to the side and she smashed a coffee table book into my head, knocked me onto my back, lay her shin on my crotch, and leaned all of her weight into it. It was my turn to let out an even more anguished moan as she gracefully squashed my soft cock and testicles. I tried to force her off and she swung her fist around: face, stomach, face, face, face, face. Her feminine hands wrapped around my throat choking the air out of me, and then she was flipping around and her thick, fat thighs were viced around my throat, absolutely squeezing the resistance from me.
"Ow, fuck, I'm not going to lose to a fucking girl you dumb cunt bitch! Fuck you," I was smacking her with my fists but they kept glancing off and then she got one trapped with her hand–she was actually strong enough to subdue me in the right position. I couldn't get free.
"Fuck you Ev! I'm doing this because I love you. Fuck," she spat out. And then the world disappeared for a second. I woke with her dragging my body across the floor. We were both drenched in sweat. We reached the bathroom and I tried to fight her again and she hit me with the shower head, wrapped the hose around me, and choked me out again. She'd left a pair of handcuffs on the sink and she dragged me, cuffed me to the curtain rod, and tore my shirt open, then off. I was in shock but too mad to stop struggling.
"Stop fighting me I don't want to hurt you anymore," she said gently and earnestly. She flipped the tub on and it started filling with water. It was big–nearly jacuzzi sized. Then she knelt down and tugged down my sweaty pants, then my underwear. My limp cock flopped out. I was still struggling but she tugged my shoes off, then socks, then pants and underwear. I hung naked. She grabbed a set of electric clippers and commanded me “Don’t move!”
“What the fuck!” I moaned. She had me stand over the floor and she shaved my bush off of my crotch, and most of the hair away from my butt.
She set the clippers back and I pulled myself up on the shower rod and kicked Christie back into the sink. The rod broke my hands came free of it but still in the cuffs, and Christie launched herself forward, fully clothed and me naked, and tackled me into the tub. She landed on top of me, her hands snaked around my neck and she forced me underwater. I struggled and fought but her legs wrapped around me and her thighs squeezed me and helped keep me down.
I started coughing and she brought me up gasping and then dunked me under again. I don’t know how long she kept doing that. As I started going limp she hooked my cuffs’ chain around the spout and I tried to pull on it and struggle but the spout was hooked and I couldn’t get it free no matter what I did. Her clothing was all soaked and wet and tight on her dominant body. She straddled me and held my head in her hands. “Evan, stop. Fucking. Struggling. Cry ‘mercy’!” she commanded.
“Mercy!” I begged. She got up crossly, stepped out of the tub–soaking jeans hugging her plump, feminine bottom–and grabbed a razor and can of foaming cream.
“Are you going to fucking move and make me slip and cut you?” she demanded.
“No,” I said. She turned off the faucet. The water was warm. She climbed back into the tub with her clothes still on and drained it until about a foot was left. She knelt between my crotch and began rubbing cream all over my legs. I’d never been able to grow facial hair–I’d always been smooth as a girl. The hair on the rest of my body was light. Christie gently ran the razor over my skin, dipping it in the water from time to time. I watched her, too shocked to say anything now. My mouth hung slightly open. It felt really good, and having the most gorgeous girl in the world do it to me was an incredibly erotic experience. She shaved everything: armpits, legs, and cock. Her delicate, firm hand manipulated my limp cock around as she shaved it. her soft, sure fingers pulled my fat butt to the side to shave right around my anus. She finished by gently scraping the last of the hair away from my tender butthole. My whole body was left completely girly and smooth.
She stepped back out then came back, straddled me, and tweezed my eyebrows. “Your butt looks even bigger than usual now that you’re shaved and smooth and naked, Ev. It’s easy to see why that guy in the gym wanted to spank you and fuck you.” she whispered to me. Her long, golden hair teased over my face. “I’m going to take these cuffs off for now, okay? Now, are you going to fight me again and make me beat you down–because you know I can now–or are you going to be submissive?”
I blushed deeply and felt like I was going to cry again all of a sudden, so I just nodded assent. I was so emotionally uncomfortable and confused. She unclipped me and pulled me up. She pulled me close and washed my whole body under the warm stream of the shower. “Do you want to kiss me?” she asked, inches from my face.
“No,” I sniffled.
She smirked. “Yes you do. And you’re not allowed.” She pulled me out of the shower and turned it off. “legs apart, hands over your head.” I did as she commanded and nearly jumped when I glanced over my shoulder and saw the back of my body. Like I said, I’d always been uncomfortable about my body, but now I looked so, so much like a woman. My shoulders and waist were so slim, my back had a smooth, graceful curve down to my butt, my bottom was huge and very shapely–a perfect, spherical, bubble-butt–and my thighs were fat and smooth and round. My whole body had a pleasing plumpness and curviness too it. Christie was toweling me off–every tender part of me. “Gorging on the site of your own butt…slut,” she whispered disdainfully into my ear. But when I turned she was smiling at me and drunk in my eyes with her own.
She sat me down on the toilet and started working on me, filing first my toenails, then my fingers. “God Ev, your hands are as small as mine.” Then she put on a virginal, gorgeous, creamy-pink nailpolish. “Don’t move your feet or nails too much.” She took out a pair of scissors and comb and actually trimmed about an inch off my hair. It seemed like she was doing something intricate to it. “And try to stop crying. It’ll mess up the makeup.” She wiped my face and put on a few layers of makeup that I didn’t understand, ending with some delicate blush. Then green shade on my eyes and mascara for my lashes. Christie stepped away and moved out of the room for a moment, and hesitated, and almost got up, and then she was back. She had an elegant pair of shiny black heels, strapless, open on top. They weren’t stilettos. Only about two inches of lift on them. She knelt before me like a prince before a princess, cupped her hand under my arch, lifted a foot up, and slipped the snug shoe on. She did the same with the other. “These are training heels for you, since you’re not good enough for six-inchers yet. We’ll work you up, and they’ll plump up your butt even more, in the meantime.”
She pulled me up from the toilet, put her hands on my shoulders, and guided me in front of the mirror. I was a little wobbly. Then my mouth dropped a little open. I couldn’t believe my reflection. I wasn’t as beautiful as Christie, or nearly as possessed. But I looked entirely like a woman. My hair was cut and layered and angled and stylish and feminine now. I looked entirely soft, sensual. Even beautiful. I let out a little gasp that–I don’t know why–was shockingly feminine. “Oh my God.”
“Your name is Eva now. You will no longer refer to yourself with or respond to male pronouns or the name ‘Evan’. You will only respond to your name, ‘Eva’, and female pronouns.” My lip trembled and she slapped me. “You’re my husband’s sexual slave and slut now. You will also do menial house chores as a fuck-maid. You’re never going to be a man again after tonight, do you understand?” My lip trembled and a tear rolled out of my flooded eyes. Christie was still clad in sopping wet clothes, and I was fully exposed before her. She shoved my head down on the sink so that I was bent over at the waste and spanked me briskly and forcefully five, six, seven times. And then she grabbed my hair, pulled me up, and tugged me out of the bathroom–holding me very straight and poised by my hair. “Arms behind your back!” she snapped and with her free hand she forced them there.
“Oh, it’s hard to walk,” I cried out. And her arm was immediately around my waist.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you. Just keep your arms folded behind you and keep that arch in your back sweetie–” tugging on my hair a little. “It’s okay, I’ve got you now.” She walked me back to their living room, still bearing signs of our earlier struggle. I was too shocked to think, much less say anything. I felt a little numb to many things, except my body was exquisitely full of feeling, and I was acutely aware of crimson shame coursing through my body and heart and soul. Steven was standing in the center of the room. He had on a navy suit and brown leather shoes. Christie walked me up in front of him. “Stand and present yourself for your Master.”
He looked at Christie, “Strip and get back here,” she bowed her head to him, released me, and headed back towards the back rooms. Steven looked me up and down disdainfully.
“You’re fucking disgusting and pathetic.”
“Fuck you,” moaned, and jumped at him in the heels. I wanted to knock him the fuck out. He viced his hands down on my wrists immediately and we struggled for a moment. Steven was six two and I was five-nine. I felt so delicate and weak in his arms. He threw me back onto the couch in a pile, my legs flying up. I stumbled back up and ran at him again, and he caught my arms again and twisted them behind me. I struggled and little moans and grunts came out of me. And then Steve pressed his firm lips forcefully and surely into mine. “Oh,” I muttered. His tongue probed into my mouth.
“You’re my slave now, Princess,” he said. He threw my on the floor. “Kiss my shoes.” I did it, a sloppy one. Christie came back out. She was completely naked except for six-inch heels, a gorgeous belly-button piercing, and the key around her neck. Her hair and makeup were subtly touched up and perfect. I’d never seen her naked. She was incredible. She lay a hand on her hip–she had a look of distaste–and she looked at me disdainfully, a smirk playing out over her beautiful mouth. “She’s been resistant. Cuff her hands behind her back,” Steven said. Christie had the cuffs and did it.
“Kiss his cock bulge,” she commanded. I struggled to my knees and did it. I kissed the cock bulge of the husband of the girl I loved, right in front of her, at her command. Steve pulled me up onto my heeled feet easily, and kissed me again, holding my lower back and my butt. Then he threw me back on the couch and I tumbled off and into a pile on the floor.
“Tell you what, Evie, if you can get your girlie little cock hard, and it’s bigger than mine, then you can be a man again, okay?” Steve said.
I was very aroused by seeing Christie gorgeous and naked, but I was so intimidated too, by Steve and by her, that I my cock was flaccid and pathetic. Christie undid the cuffs and then clipped them again, so that my hands were cuffed in front of me. “What do I do?” I said, so dazed and lost.
“Masturbate it, honey,” she said. I tried and it didn’t work.
She looked to Steve questioningly and he said, “You can try.” She got down on her hands and knees, gorgeous butt hanging up in the air, head down by the floor near my cock. She put her warm, wet mouth around my cock. Her voluptuous lips wrapped around me. She took my whole flaccid cock into her mouth and sucked and massaged it gently. She moved down and sucked on each of my balls. She worked me over lovingly and passionately. This girl that I loved, who had just beat me and began to feminize me, was now on the ground before me, degrading herself below me. And still, I could only get half-hard. My cock puffed up but I couldn’t of fucked anyone. She suckled at me for minutes before she finally stopped.
“That’s so pathetic” she said pityingly, sitting her butt back on her thighs.
“You see, Evie, you’re really not a man. Just having a cock doesn’t make someone a man.” I was so aroused and confused and ashamed that I just started sobbing. “Stand up,” he command. I struggled up and stood shuddering before them. Christie stepped away and came back with a beautiful, diamond, waist-circlet. She took it and wrapped it around my slim waist, resting above my big butt. There was an extra net of diamonds on the front, connected by a single line of them to the circlet. She gently ran the line down to my cock. This extra piece had three bands: the first wrapped around the base of my cock, below my swollen testicles, the second above the testicles, and then it ran up by a line of diamonds to the head of my cock, and another band wrapped around just below the head. It was on a material that had a little stretch to it. They all linked together and locked with a little lock mechanism that hung behind my balls. She locked it with the key.
“We want you to be able to become aroused and cum, but we need to train you to cum from your bottom like a good girl,” Christie said. “So this will remind you of that.”
Steven wrapped his arms around my waist and Christie stepped back up. We sat on the couch, me between Steven’s legs, and she squatted before us with her heels. She had some type of plastic thing in her right hand that looked a little like a glue gun and a little like a stapler. She wiped my nipples and bellybutton with alcohol and something else, and then clipped both of my nipples. I screamed and sobbed in pain and as I did she clipped my bellybutton. The pain was searing. I looked down and there was a stud through each of my nipples. Christie attached a diadem to my bellybutton, similar to her own. She stuck white ‘X’s of medical tape over each of my piercings. “Fuck,” I moaned.
“It’s to symbolize you’re owned, Evie,” she cooed to me. I looked at her with passionate, pleading eyes. She leant lower, pushed my legs up, spread my bottom apart, and sucked on my anus, covering it in spit and tongue fucking it.
“Christie, no, I’m dirty!” I moaned.
She looked up and met my eyes. “I love you, Eva.” She pressed a large enema plug into my anus and I let out a moan. She lifted up a bag and squeezed. Warm, wonderful water started flowing through it into my colon. She helped me back down onto my knees as my stomach was being filled with water. “Arms above your head,” she said. I winced and did it. She stuck a needle in my fat butt-cheek. “This is your first hormone injection. Now, get his pants off with your teeth and take his cock into your mouth.” My stomach was swelling out so much from the enema that I looked like I was just beginning to show a pregnancy.
“I thought I knew who you were,” I said. “You people are sickos. You might be insane.”
“Do you want his cock in your dirty slut mouth or not?” Christie snapped.
“Yes,” I said. And I did it. I got his belt easily enough, struggled with the button and zipper, and struggled some more getting them down. Then I tackled his boxers, nuzzling and working them down with my teeth. After some focused attention, his cock finally fell out of them and hit me in the face. Christie knelt down beside me and we began to suck it together. The first time I took a man’s cock into my mouth was with another woman, with the love of my life. We sucked and licked and salivated over him, kissing each other as we wrapped our plump, wet lips around his cock head, running up and down his shaft, taking turns deepthroating his meaty dick. Christie started spanking me as we passionately made out with ourselves and his cock. It felt really good.
“Look, Steven,” Christie said, “His cock is so hard now. And it’s so much smaller than yours. He would’ve lost anyway.” Mine was just under five inches. Steve’s was, at my best guess, over nine. And it was nearly twice as thick as mine, which was ridiculous. She shoved a large white plastic bucket behind me, then made me get on my hands and knees and back up over it. She pulled out the enema plug and commanded: “Expel, girl.” And I did. All the dirty butt water squirted and flowed out of my anus and I felt immense relief but also pleasure. I crawled back to Steve’s cock.
“You make a really gorgeous girl, Eva,” Steve said. “You’re hair is perfect, and you have a really nice body, and that’s a really pretty circlet your have around your waist.” I blushed and kept sucking his cock. “Come on, let’s get that big, gorgeous bottom up here,” and he lifted me up effortlessly. I put my arms around his neck. His strong hands were on my enormous bottom, supporting me. My plump, soft thighs wrapped around his muscled abdomen, and I interlocked my feet behind his back, right above his muscled butt. I felt Christie’s warm tongue and mouth on my anus again, and then, with her guiding his cock and pulling my butt apart, he slowly lowered me onto himself. I could feel a pressure against my tender hole. It was intense and enormous. It was also warm and wet. His cock head was much bigger than the radius of my entire anus.
“Oh God,” Christie moaned.
“Oh fucking God,” I moaned. It felt an eternity as my moist hole hung poised and straining over his rock hard, soaring, monstrous intruder. And then slowly my tender, flexible butt flesh began to give way, centimeter by centimeter. He was penetrating me. “Oh God!” I screamed out in a very high, girly voice and buried my head in his shoulder. He was turning me into a woman.
“There, there, sweetie,” Christie said. She ran her hands over my bottom, spanking it and stroking it to try to easy my erotic excitement. She slipped her fingers around the sides of Steven’s cock, massaging the taut flesh, and then licked there with her warm, wet tongue. She ran her hands and lips all over my body, caressing and gently stroking with her nails and kissing and licking. She necked me gently and warmly but firmly, then pulled my head up from his shoulder, brushed my hair out of my face, and kissed me very warmly and passionately. And as the love of my life did this, her husbands cock breached my most sacred and tender barrier and pressed into my colon. I screamed and she kissed me.
“Steven, Christie, I’m about to explode!” I pleaded. He didn’t respond, only walked, holding me firmly, back towards their bedroom. It was rich, deep colors and a large bed. I saw a picture of The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife hanging on the wall. He lay down on the bed with me on top of him, and my butt slid a few more centimeters down his cock, impaling me deeper. My pathetic cock was fully erect and straining incredibly pleasantly against the bands she’d locked it in. Christie clamped her firm, elegant hand very hard around the base of my cock, and Steve forced his cock all the way into me. I had nine inches of a man inside of my butt. He began pounding me. Sweat poured off my body. The pressure in my cock was immense. There wasn’t even any stimulation going to it–all pleasure was radiating from deep inside my anus. “Do you want to cum just from butt-sex, whore? Do you need to cum, slut?” Christie whispered into my ear. She peered into my eyes, piercing me.
“Oh God I really do! Please let me Christie!” I sobbed, letting it all pour out.
“Say what’s happened to you.”
I considered carefully, trying to think with her hand clamping my cock and that enormous rod pistoning in and out of my gaping butthole. “I was a man, and my body was girly and feminine, and I was beaten by a girl, and overpowered, and completely overcome, and now I’m being fucked like a slut.”
“And what are you now?” coldly.
“I’m owned–your slut fuck slave girl. I was given a chance to be Steven’s wife, but I didn’t take it like a stupid cunt, and so now I’m a fuck slut slave girl. And I’m going to be owned and used by you forever.”
“You may cum, slut,” and she released her hand and cum and ecstasy exploded out of me.
“I love you, Mistress Christie,” I said as that cock still pounded my butt. And she bent over, enormous butt hanging sultrily in the air, and licked up every pool of my cum sprayed over Steven’s stomach. Then she sucked the rest of it out of my cock. She rose back up, hauntingly.
“I love you, Slave,” she said, commandingly, and pressed her warm lips into mine, feeding me all my cum back into my mouth, passionately kissing me. I looked into the eyes of this young woman who I loved, and I knew I wanted to be her slave forever. And then I closed my eyes and gave into her kiss.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/3mmddp/the_ecstasy_of_being_destroyed_by_the_girl_you