Time To Move On

Time To Move On

This one is something a bit different.  I've wondered what would happen when the dominant partner realizes that it's not transformed submissives he - or she - is really into but transforming submissives.  And what, then, becomes of those transformed submissives?

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Lisa began to slowly wake up.  It was as if a heavy fog was slowly receding all around.  She rolled over on to her side in her bed and that was when she began to realize something was wrong.  As her anxiety swelled it forced her to become even more awake and she rolled over on to her back again.  It took her a seeming eternity of near panic over the wrongness she felt before she realized what had happened.

She moved her hands up to her chest to confirm with her fingers what she felt, fearfully, throughout the rest of her body.  Or, more accurately, what she wasn’t feeling.  Her limbs were stiff and her movements felt awkward but what she felt with those fingertips confirmed what her chest wasn’t feeling – the weight.  There was no more weight to her chest.  Her bountiful breasts, her tits, her sissy fuck tits, they were gone.  She was almost flat again.  There was just some puffiness under her nipples but that was it.

Gone were her beautiful full, round, heavy, and ample tits.  She whimpered.  She loved her tits.  They made her look so sexy.  They made her feel so sexy.  Even if her mannerisms weren’t perfectly feminine all the time or even if hands were a bit too big or her fingers too thick her big breasts kept anyone and everyone distracted from noticing.  And her outfits all made sure the focus remained on those tits and not anything which might allow anyone else to “make” her as not being an actual full real girl.

She didn’t mind if some people were able to “make” her as being a gurl instead of a girl so long as it was the right sort of people.  The people who liked gurls like Lisa.  The sort of people who liked putting gurls like Lisa in their place.  Namely, bent over with her skirt hiked up and her sissy pussy filled with some juicy thick cock.

“No!!!!” she exclaimed and that just made it worse.  She realized her voice was once again deeper.  Not quite what it used to be when she was still a boy but nowhere near the sweet soft feminine thing she’d worked so hard to get it to.  Her hands flew to her throat but she couldn’t tell if it was any thicker.  Then again, it didn’t look any thinner after the tracheal shave and she couldn’t imagine how that would be reversed anyway.

She whimpered again and bit her lip.  It was an exquisitely girlish thing to do but she quickly realized that too had changed.  Her fingers quickly were upon her lips and between them and her tongue she realized that gone was the plumpness those lips once had.  They felt as thin and they used to be before the collagen and silicon plumped them up to their wonderful cocksucking and pussy worshipping wonderfulness.

As she moved her tongue over her lips she also realized that gone to were the studs set into it.  She whimpered some more as she pressed her tongue around inside her mouth to confirm the absence.  There had been two ball studs set into her tongue.  They’d helped her more easily lisp like a sissy and they’d also help drive the men and the women wild as she slavered her tongue across their cocks or clits. 

“Cocks and clits” the mere thought of those two wonderful things brought her hands to her nipples.  Her hunger and conditioning for cocks and clits to worship was basic nature to her now.  The intensity of her hunger for them now made her aware of how long it must have been since last she’d had either.  Her fingers were working her nipples without her even having thought to do so.  Her habits were still strong and even her having been regressed didn’t stop that.  It would’ve been too hard to have done so.  Unfortunately, the pleasure her fingers brought her through her nipples only served to make something else hard – her cock.

It took a few seconds for her to realize what was going on.  She’d happily taken so much “girly juice” for so long in order to become her fetish vision of a sissy fucktoy that she hadn’t had an actual erection in years.  She didn’t miss them, she was too often filled at both ends to have any need of erections and no few of the men and women she liked best had no liking for their sissies to have hardons of their own.  But now, her cock was hard enough to tent up the bedsheet she was laying under.

Hesitantly, fearfully, regretfully, she reached down to her cock and explored it with her fingers.  Its shaft nicely filled her hand and then some.  Not some massive piece of man meat but definitely thicker and bigger down there than she’d been in years and years.  Lisa actually began crying at this.  Now there was no way she’d be able to fit into all those wonderfully sexy outfits she’d accumulated.  She had come to love all those sissy panties that were oh-so-tiny up front as her hormone shrunken cock and diminished balls could easily be captured by them and held nicely in place. 

Now that was no longer possible.  She’d be spilling out of them like some new and incompetent cross dresser on his first night’s out at a truck stop.  She hated that.  She had worked too hard for too long to still be that.

Lisa threw off the covers and tried to sit up in her bed.  That didn’t go well.  Her head began spinning as she rose up so she flopped back down.  She eventually rolled onto her side again and levered herself slowly upright.  That worked better.  She began reaching around the bed to try and find some light switch.  After some groping her fingers connected on what she sought and she clicked it on.  The brilliance was blinding to her and she had to squeeze her eyes tightly shut from it.  She brought her hands up to her eyes for some protection.  It was only gradually that she was able to peek out from behind them and withstand that light coming from even just the small bedside lamp.  Her vision was fuzzy for several minutes but, eventually that cleared to sharpness as well.

The room she was in was small and non-descript.  Looking around more intently, she realized it was but a hotel room and that there was a bathroom attached to it.  Seeing that, Lisa realized she truly needed to use it.  Carefully, she levered herself standing.  She felt stiff and awkward and weak even with just the few steps she took from her bed to the bathroom and its toilet.  Out of habit she daintily sat down on the toilet seat and began to relieve her bladder’s pressure.  She opened her legs and looked down at her cock which was still somewhat hard and realized that she’d now have to hold it down while peeing lest she spray beyond the toilet’s bowl.  She hadn’t had to do that for many years either.

She also realized that her piercings in her cock were gone as well.  She’d a Prince Albert set into it and then a frenum piercing to secure her chastity tube.  There weren’t even the holes left from those piercings.  They’d been empty for so long that they’d healed shut.  Lisa shook her head over that as well.

Her bladder relieved, Lisa looked around the bathroom and saw it had a full length mirror.  She found the light switch and flicked it on.  She closed her eyes and took a breath before turning to face herself in the mirror.

What she saw upon turning and looking brought more tears to her eyes.  She was gone.  The man she’d been was back.  Perhaps not fully back but returned after many a year’s absence.

Her build wasn’t muscular by any means but was clearly masculine.  Perhaps that of a long distance runner’s.  A skinny one, maybe, but a man’s build, plainly.  Those wonderful double Ds and the corset trained nipped in waste were gone. 

She stepped closer to the mirror and began examining her face with a great intensity.  There was nothing of note to see there and she swallowed hard over that.  Not even any residual redness to indicate where the tattoos had been removed.  Now she’d have to always apply the blush and foundation to her checks herself.  And she’d have to apply the eyeliner now that the tattoos of them had been removed.  Part of her was glad she’d not been conscious while the tattoo removal process had happened as it was almost as painful as their being inked to start with.

She rubbed at her eyebrows and her shoulders slumped at how thick the bone underneath felt.  Whether it was actual bone growth or an implant the fact that she could feel it meant that much, if not all, of her facial feminization surgery had also been undone.

Stepping back she looked her entire body over again and run her hands over her skin in doing so.  It wasn’t just the lighting in the bathroom.  The slight darkness on her skin wasn’t due to any poor illumination it was due to her hair.  It was back.  Not some dense fur matting but it was once again back.  She’d no idea how that had come to pass as she thought the years of laser hair removal had well and truly wiped out the very follicles themselves.  She’d have to shave and start all over again.

It was too much.  She ran back to the bed and threw herself upon it.  The tears flowed and she curled herself into a little ball and wept.  “Why?  Why?  Why?” was all she could keep asking herself.  She hugged herself and wept until sleep finally overtook her with her question still unanswered.

Later, she came awake again.  To her dismay, it hadn’t been a nightmare and the sissy she had been was still no longer there.  She sniffled at this but no tears came.  It was upon turning the bed light back on that she realized it had been turned off.  She hadn’t done that.  She also realized her room had additions to it.  There was now a suitcase in one corner and an envelope on the table next to it.  Lisa quickly flung off the bed covers and rushed over to the desk, tearing open the envelope as she reached it.

The letter inside was but a one page affair and was printed, not written.  What she read on it left her crestfallen:

My Dear Sweet Lisa,

Thank you for the years of fulfillment you provided.  You were everything I lusted for in a man who wanted to become an emasculated feminized sexual plaything.  Your submission and eagerness to realize this fantasy remains a true joy for me and I treasure its memory even now.

I have come to realize however, that what I found the most fulfilling was the transformation process and not the end result.  Make no mistake, the end result was the perfect culmination of our desires and of our fantasies.  You could not have made a better feminized sissy fucktoy.  In this, you were as perfect and as wonderful as you could be.  But, in fully becoming that, there was nowhere left to go.  Your transformation was complete.  And that marked the end of that process with you and it marked the renewal of my hunger for another eager man to start his transformation.

I know my personality can be overwhelming and I know that my persuasion methods were, at times, perhaps not as transparent as they could have been.  So I didn’t feel it fair of me to simply leave you off in that current state once I myself had moved on.

Thus I made the effort to bring you back to where you started your transformation.  Some things can not be fully reversed but you are now essentially where you were when you first submitted to me and allowed me to realize my transformation fantasies.

With the reversal process now fully completed, you are free to pursue your own course once more.  I will no longer be in your life and will thus no longer exert any undo force on your choices.

Your old driver’s license and wallet are packed into the suitcase now in your room.  Also in the suitcase are a set of men’s clothing which will fit you remasculinized form.  I have also included three other envelopes that have enough cash inside them for you to restart your life outside of my influence.

I have moved on to another transformation project and will, undoubtedly pursue another one after I have progressed this one to its ultimate conclusion as well.  You can not be a part of that any more as it would not be a new process for me with you.

Whatever your choice, be it as a male or once again becoming feminized, I wish you well.  I do not wish however, for you to attempt to contact me again. 

Goodbye.

Master Steve

Lisa stared at the letter until she realized her tears were spattering upon it.  She slumped into the chair and put her head down into her arms on the desk and began weeping deeply.  She could hear his voice in her mind’s ear as she had read his letter to her and she could feel the finality of his dismissal in those words.  She had come to know him and his commands quite deeply over the years of her submission to him and she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was well and truly done with her.

She stood briefly and then flung herself back into the bed and wept again.  She felt lost and rudderless as he had so thoroughly ruled her for so long and she had loved it so. She lay there, weeping and drifting in her sadness for some time.  Her tears eventually stopped flowing.  She was wracking her brain to try and figure where or how or why she had done something wrong to have earned his dismissal.

It took her some time to realize just how detailed and intense her thought process was.  How clear it was.  How rapid it was.  How different it was.  Lisa realized that she hadn’t had such clarity of thought for a long, long time.  The more she thought about it, the more she realized that she’d actually been in something of a daze for so much of the time she’d been submitting to Master Steve’s dominance and to his feminization of her.  A happy daze, a contented daze, and wonderfully pleasurable daze but, a daze none-the-less.  A daze now gone.  Not just gone because she was sad at being back to being but a man again.  But gone, period. 

The realization made her curl herself up into a ball even more tightly.  She was clear headed now for the first time in years.  It hadn’t just been the “sub space” she happily had descended into as Master Steve’s dominance so gloriously overwhelmed her.  That was indeed wonderful but indeed different.  And her mental awareness now was quite different from when she’d have come down from those wonderfully intense highs she’d had with Master Steve.

“Son of a bitch” Lisa thought, “He had me on something.”  The thought that the man she’d so trusted to transform her so had drugged her was something which ate at her.  Eventually though, she realized that she had asked for that as well.  It had been a staple fantasy of hers.  To find some overwhelmingly dominant man – or woman - who would drug her and hypnotize her and warp her mind even as he warped her body into becoming the sissy fucktoy of her dreams.  She had asked for all of it.  And he had given her all that she had asked for.

Her terror ebbed and turned to anger at his having done all of this to her by drugging her only to have further drugged her to undo it.  But then the anger, eventually turned into resignation and acceptance that she had asked for exactly what he had done.  She had chosen that path for herself.  Would she have been content to have lived the rest of her days as a happily drugged up and fucked out sissy serving all the dominant men and women who wished to use her if she hadn’t been happily drugged up?  Lisa hugged herself tighter as she realized that was a question she didn’t want to answer.  And worse, it was a question she now could not answer.  She felt another pang of loss until she realized that it was not her fault.  She had submitted totally to Master Steve and had become the perfection of his desires.  Well, at least his desires until she reached that perfection.

Lisa spent more hours rocking herself back and forth in that bed until she finally forced herself to get up again and, resignedly, look over what was in the suitcase.  The envelopes with cash she set aside.  It was a reality she would deal with later.  The several pair of men’s jeans and pants felt crude to her fingers and seemed terribly dull to her eyes.  The shirts even more so.  The underwear looked horribly ugly to her.  All cotton, all white, and all hideous.  Oh, they’d have been sexy as all hell were they gracing some hot dominant stud who was letting her peel them off but her having to wear them just seem wrong.

Finally, she forced herself to pick up the wallet and open it.  There was what she most feared, her driver’s license.  It had been years since she’d last held that in her hands.  “Lee Wilkins” was the name on it and there he was looking at her from the photo.  He was a ghost she thought she’d never have to see again.  Lisa stood and walked over to the mirror and looked at her reflection in it.  She held up the driver’s license so that she could look at the photo at the same time.

Yes, Lee was back.  Clearly, plainly, obviously, inescapably.  Not entirely.  The sculpting to her… to his… face was too extensive even if it had been mostly repaired.  But he was now clearly back to being… Lee.

It was Lisa who was the ghost.  A ghost he could now only see in his memories.  Memories which were, upon reflection, always acquired in something of a haze.  Not the sharpness of his undrugged perceptions now.

Whatever Master Steve had plied her with to keep her in that happy, submissive and pliable daze was long gone out of her system.  Lee recognized that Master Steve would’ve been smart enough to have kept her under long enough for any dependence on that drug to have worn off before he let her awake once more.  The surgeries to reverse all the feminizations must’ve been even more expensive than they were to have feminized her in the first place.  He knew Master Steve was wealthy.  And that was part of why he had so willingly submitted to the man in the first place.  Lee was only too thrilled to have become the “kept woman” of a filthy rich dominant man in the first place.

Master Steve has so many wonderful things and wonderful toys.  Lee had been only too happy to be one of them after he saw how well Master Steve cared for all those things and all those toys.  Lee cursed himself for not having thought it all through.  Thought it all through as Master Steve obviously had.  Lee had been but a toy for Master Steve to play with.  A prized toy, a cherished toy, and played with in a very particular way.  But played with none-the-less and now Master Steve was done with that toy.  He’d set it down gently and nicely enough as he moved on to a new toy to play with.  But he had set it down and would never again pick it back up.  Master Steve had moved on.

Lee, with a sharper realization than he’d had in years, recognized that it was also time for him to move on.

With a regrettable familiarity – a memory of long repetition coming unbidden – Lee pulled on one of those hideous plain white underwear briefs and then pulled on a pair of jeans.  The shirt, socks and belt followed.  Lee paused at the shoes.  Men’s sneakers.  Flat.  No heel.  Plenty of arch support.  Plenty of space for his toes.  Plain, not even cute or femme.  Practical shoes.  Lisa wouldn’t have been caught dead in such shoes.

But Lisa was now a ghost.  Lisa was dead.  It was Lee who was there in that room now, not her.  He pulled on the shoes, grabbed his wallet, and headed out of the room to the lobby.  It was time to find out where, exactly, Master Steve had left him to start his life as a man again.

It was time to move on.