Sucker 7 "You're a natural, honey! I don't know why we didn't do this years ago. Here we are only a week or two into your training and the physical part's well under way. And the more obvious mannerisms are coming on nicely, your voice and all, and I know that your sense of yourself and your interests are getting more feminine every day. In lots of ways you're already a girl. Bruce has no idea what's awaiting him! Maybe that's why now we need to begin on the hardest part. Now, I think." "What's the hardest part, Debbie?" I was sitting at breakfast with her reading the morning paper, a fashion column to be precise, after only a glance at the sports pages. I was still filling in my wardrobe, because I wanted to be stylish without calling attention to myself, and there were so many ways to do just that! I was wearing a babydoll not unlike Stacy's, though with the panties that went with it, because we'd do our Jazzercize right afterward, and I felt embarrassed that my hairless penis and testicles flopped and bounced as we danced. Debbie and the girls on the tape all had trim, tight crotches. I could only admire their neat, compact appearance when we all did leg extensions or high kicks. This particular morning Debbie was wearing a sexy negligee. We were two women starting our morning. "Changing your sexual orientation is the hardest part, babydoll. Getting you so you really and truly want to make love to guys. Not so you're willing -- that's where we are now. So you're thrilled to do it. So you'd be the happiest girl in the world if the right guy told you he wanted you to suck his cock." Now it wasn't just Bruce but "guys." I said nothing. I'd learned that Debbie likes to talk around an issue until the person she's with volunteers to do whatever she had in mind all along. Then she praises his marvelous idea and doesn't claim any responsibility -- "I'm so helpless and grateful!" is her message after a successful manipulation. As a new woman I was trying to develop that strategy myself to use on others, but it didn't come easy, especially since I wasn't in charge of anything. Not even myself. "They say it can't be done, make someone heterosexual into someone gay, or straighten out someone who's gay, and I suppose strictly speaking that's true. But everyone's a little bi-sexual way down under I think, even if it's only a very little, even if that very little's been completely suppressed by conditioning -- mockery, shame, contempt, disgust, you know, the usual ways people put down the unique as if it were deviant. That gives us something to work with, to try to encourage. That and the fact that people do what they have to do. In prison men fuck each other because they have no choice. I bet a lot of them like it, even under duress, or maybe because of the duress -- because it relieves them of the need to suppress an actual desire. Even the toughest and most macho of them." She was circling closer. "Maybe it's just what's accustomed?" I suggested. "Getting used to things? People don't notice routine activities. For instance, I'm now spending hours each day it seems licking and sucking on that soft rubber dildo you bought me. Doing everything to it that Stacy does to that guy's cock. I throat it now without even thinking. Paying no attention. It was so embarrassing, the first time, and kind of exciting too, because it violated something deep inside me. But I did it, and now it doesn't seem to matter." "Yes, I've watched you. Those new puffy lips of yours look so natural sliding up and down that imitation cock! That's what they're for! And you were passionate enough the first day. But now you look as if you were smoking a cigar and reading a book. You aren't focussed. You no longer seem to feel privileged to be kissing a man's member, nor humiliated either. And that's what's missing. It isn't fulfilling for you, and it isn't helping you feel more girly. So it isn't deeply satisfying. You need motivation. Can you think of any? "Do it to avoid worse? But what could be worse? Getting slapped around? I wouldn't stand for it. No girl should." "Let's think. What might be even more humiliating for a man than giving head to another man while wearing a dress? But fulfilling if the man in the dress thought she was a woman? There's still enough man in you to think of something, I'll bet. What's the most glorious thing a woman can want a man do to her that a man would be ashamed to have happen to him? Unless he's gay." "I don't know. What things do gay men do with each other that're like what men do with women?" I knew I'd be sorry I said it the moment the words came out of my mouth. Oh my God!! "Of course, honey! Why didn't I think of that? Why else are you growing those beautiful globes on your tush? They're so provocative! You do know of course that yesterday when we were at the supermarket and you were wearing those tight slacks, men were stopping and turning around to watch you walk away from them? It was so funny! You have a beautiful ass now, and with your new walk it swings and sways as if you were on the edge of an orgasm. Men would love to get themselves into you there, I bet. I just know it! I wonder if that's a way to re-awaken your interest in your dildo? I'll bet you'd be more devotedly attentive to any cock in your mouth if you knew that if you weren't, it would soon be in your ass." She was off and running. What could I say? I'd surrendered control of my life to her, and she always talked herself into whatever she wanted to believe. Then talked me into it. "Maybe," was all I replied. She poured herself more coffee. I was still sipping my morning's enriched milkshake. I was allowed two each day now officially, and it contained additives now that kept me in a strange, eager, expectant but compliant mood. My breasts felt swollen, and I often felt wet down below -- my penis was seeping some kind of fluid. My nipples were more enlarged and sensitive than ever, and Debbie encouraged me to play with them each night, since I couldn't play with her. I sneaked in other times too, it felt so good! "Or," she went on. "Maybe getting fucked would be positive reinforcement for you, not at all a negative! Knowing that if you blow him really well, your man will *reward* you by fucking you in the ass. That bubble-shaped butt *is* one of your more attractive features now, Samantha. I'll bet if we exposed it no man could resist. Lots of girls flirt by showing off their asses. That's what tight skirts and shorts and pants are for! And thongs, and many kinds of bathing suits!" She paused, then continued. "Now that's a really provocative idea. Don't you think so? That would be altogether new for you! And so very feminine!" I said nothing. She started daydreaming. "You might like it, getting fucked. I don't see why not!" Was she teasing me? Thinking of a way to punish me for the unwanted fuckings I'd given her? Was she serious? "Bruce could easily reach around to caress your tits while he was pumping into you between those beautiful globes. You'd be in heaven. I'll call him right away and ask him what he thinks." "Debbie!" I called out. But she was already gone. She came back pensive. "Bruce thinks it's a marvelous idea, and he says he'll be happy to accommodate you if your rear end is all I say it is. Whether it's a punishment or reward doesn't seem to matter to him." She started to clear the breakfast table as if our conversation was over. Then, "And he had another suggestion as well." Finally I asked, "What was that?" "What? Oh, Bruce's suggestion?" "Yes!" "That if you don't suck his cock with the right finesse then he should do not only your rear but mine! And my pussy. That I make up for all of your deficiencies." Her rear!!? Where I'd never dared go? And what else!? "All of my deficiencies?" I cried out. "You mean, you'd blow him too!!? Even before you blow me?!" She was stacking things in the dishwasher now. "Yes." she said absently. "Of course! I told him that sounded only fair." This was appalling! I'd never had the least qualms about Debbie being unfaithful to me with another man! She'd never seemed interested enough in sex to risk our marriage by sleeping with someone else, for one thing. She was too strong-minded to fall like some enamored ditz into a frivolous affair, for another. I knew that she loved me, I never doubted it, but I knew she didn't like to express it physically, that was the problem. That was why we were in this strange situation right now. Did I now need to save her from a fate worse than death by nobly devoting my all to sucking on the cock that threatened her honor? Craven, suck off another man with all my heart and soul to avoid being cuckolded? And possibly fail anyhow? On both accounts? I'm sure Debbie sensed that like many men I've sometimes felt defensive about my manhood. The male ego may be tough, but it's also fragile. I was never that well-endowed, and the thought of my wife getting it on with another man and ending up better satisfied by him has always seemed to me catastrophic. Unthinkable! A fear that she might prefer him, that she'd leave me, paralyzes me whenever the thought enters even the outskirts of my mind. So I suppress it. But now she'd raised it. "He's gay!" I protested, as if reminding her would change what she'd just somehow arranged with Bruce. "Bruce is! You told me!" "Bi-sexual, honey. I never said exclusively gay. He'll do boys or girls I hear, though they need to look like girls, either way. I thought I'd made that clear!" I couldn't argue the point now. Instead, I spoke directly to my greatest fear! "Debbie! Honey! You'd cheat on me!?" She turned to face me. "Samantha honey, it isn't cheating if my husband knows all about it and has every opportunity to prevent it and doesn't, and is in fact there watching. I'd insist that you watch, so you'd at least learn something about how women instinctively do such things! How to do it right on your next attempt! How not to disgrace yourself altogether! And how to enjoy it!" She turned her back to rinse the dishes before placing them in the dishwasher racks, then said self-righteously, "Anyhow, what I'd do is no more than you intend to do, blow him and let him fuck you. So who'd be the first one of us to cheat? Answer me that!" "Debbie! You told me I *had* to blow him! I'm doing all this just to satisfy you! And fucking as an issue never even arose until just now! And it would be a penalty, if it happened!" She glanced at me under half-closed lids. "I'll bet!" "It would be!!" I felt in retreat! I'd already lost this argument too! How did I get into these? "No, Samantha!" She spoke my name as if it had a cutting edge. "Don't blame me for your own self-indulgence! You're doing all this for your own pleasure and satisfaction, not mine! So I'll be willing to blow you, remember? It's rather selfish of you in some ways, agreeing to this deal, but I've been willing to go along with it. And I will go along with it. Up to a point! Anyhow, you'll notice it wasn't me who first suggested that Bruce might want to squeeze himself into your cute tush. It was you who wondered what gay men do to each other! Have you been thinking about it much? Daydreaming about it?" I felt a little wild-eyed at this revised version of what had happened! She sat down again and leaned back and said peaceably, even smugly, in the face of my shocked expression. "Oh, sweetheart, do get used to the idea. You're a married woman who's preparing herself to suck another man's cock and is ripe for fucking! You don't have any alternatives now, do you? Look at you! With your face and figure, would any normal woman besides me want you? Maybe some bull dyke, someone you'd be afraid to come near in daylight much less the dark. But honey, men will want you! You'll inspire them! Sandra thinks maybe those extra milkshakes triggered your own body's production of female hormones, and that maybe it's irreversible. For whatever reason, you're hell-bent toward a figure that's every man's wet dream. At this moment all those extra fat cells she installed are multiplying and multiplying, in all the right places -- for a woman, that is! That's your future! As a man you're already a joke!" Then she added more sympathetically, "I love you. I hope you know that. I'll always want you close to me no matter what. And I know you love me. But maybe it hasn't occurred to you -- you're like those men in prison now, aren't you? Those guys who do what you're going to do with Bruce, because they haven't any choice any more? So they do their very best to make their man happy? You really do want to make Bruce happy, don't you? Because giving pleasure is pleasurable, and because of what could happen if you don't? What might happen anyway?" She looked at me meaningfully, and I realized she'd already made an arrangement with Bruce. First I'd be unfaithful to her, then she'd feel free to be unfaithful to me. With Bruce. Not only with Bruce?" "Learn to live with that idea, my darling Samantha! Dream about it! Hope for it! Better, learn to love it, be eager to see it all happen! Then you'll feel much better about it!" For a moment she looked altogether satisfied with herself -- she'd now actually done what she'd set out to do this morning -- get me well-motivated to blow Bruce, get me fucked, and then wrap her own legs around that office stud while I stood by helplessly watching! I'd been utterly out-maneuvered! Then she added, "Time for our exercises, love, and then you'll want to be nice to your dildo for an hour or so with those new soft lips. I brought home a few more porn tapes, the kind they make for gay men this time. With lots of anal penetration, so you'll get an idea how it's done and how it can be enjoyed. All well-hung men with glistening, oiled bodies for you to look at. You'll see how to prepare yourself for the possibility the way any girl does when she's going on a really heavy date. Watch the tapes with Mr. Dildo, and see if either of you get any new ideas." Mr. Dildo got one big one. That night, after first giving me an enema, then a douche, then perfuming me and asking me to wait for her in my finest nightgown, Debbie entered my room wearing Mr. Dildo, turned my legs wide over my head, and then gently entered me. As she pushed into my newly plump rear end I felt stretched, a burning that eased to a full, full feeling, then a loss of it as she withdrew, then it returned as she pushed in again. I was surprised to find it was not unpleasant. She persisted, and I began to anticipate the fullness -- it made me feel complete. Then to desire it. The tips of her breasts waved across and touched mine with the most excruciating delicacy, now and then, repeatedly. My desire mounted, and rose, and almost blossomed into a gorgeous completion when suddenly she withdrew and sat back satisfied. "That's all for now," she said. "Now you're a real lady! You were making the most darling mewing sounds just now, lover! My sweet pussy-cat!"