Announcement

**Transgender Stories** · 05-20-2008, 01:07 PM

Part 3

"-- have the kick-ass title track from AC/DC's latest, along with a little
classic Metallica . . . from the 'S&M' album. Oh, baby! Get ready to scream
along and wake up the neighbours, 'cause this is --"

On any other morning i would have taken a groggy slap at the alarm clock and
buried my head back under the pillow. Eventually, I would have cracked my
eyes open and groaned about how early it was, then cursed whatever it was
that made waking up necessary. I had never been a morning person, and
getting up at 5am on a weekend wasn't exactly my idea of a great way to
start the day. However, the irony of waking up to a little 'S&M' cut through
the fog of sleep and put a lazy smile on my face.

Besides, this morning I had every reason to WANT to get up and out of the
house . . . and her name was Diana.

I rolled out of bed with a satisfied yawn and shuffled over to the closet to
grab my things. Snapping a fresh blade into my razor, I grabbed my can of
shaving gel, snatched up my hairbrush, tossed a clean T-shirt over my
shoulder, and hurried off to the shower. Part of me wanted to take my time
and enjoy it - as much as I hated shaving my face every morning, I embraced
the weekly ritual of shaving my legs as something to be savoured. The rest
of me, though, was eager to get out of the house and on my way to show Diana
just how grateful I was for everything she'd done.

It was, of course, my devotion to my Amazonian Goddess that won out.

<>

Less than an hour later I parked my little white Pontiac in front of Diana's
house and hurried around to the back door. When I reached the corner of the
house, though, I stumbled to an awkward stop and just stared at the scene
before me. I don't know what I had been expecting - her house looked like
any other small, suburban home from the front - but it certainly wasn't
this.

The entire backyard was contained in an immense greenhouse, the glass walls
of which reached so high they seemed to be an extension of the house itself.
Pressing my face to the glass, I could see a full-sized in-ground pool,
complete with a low diving board at one end. There was even an inflatable
couch floating in the centre and a beach ball stuck in the far corner.
Around the pool itself was a narrow stone path - barely wide enough for one
person - with an endless flower garden eating up the rest of the space. It
was beautiful, idyllic, and possessed a serene kind of otherworldly
innocence that I hadn't expected . . . but which immediately seemed
appropriate.

After all, my Amazonian Goddess was a woman of magnificent complexity, so it
should have come as no surprise that her home reflected that diversity as
well.

"Something tells me I had better start honing my gardening skills," I mused
silently. Smiling at the thought, I slipped inside the greenhouse and
tiptoed my way around the nearest edge of the pool. As I reach down to open
the backdoor I found a note waiting for me:

"tanya,

I have left my spare key at the bottom of the pool for safekeeping. Once you
have retrieved it, you may let yourself in and use the towel behind the door
to dry yourself off. You may then toss it down the laundry chute with your
wet clothes and quietly make your way to the kitchen. I will leave further
instructions there.

Your Goddess"

As I read that last line, I desperately tried to remember if I had ever used
those words with her. Silently, I had always thought of Diana as my
Amazonian Goddess, but had I actually said as much to her? I didn't think
so -- in which case, it suggested that our meeting was more than just a
coincidence. I'd never been one to believe in fate, but where she was
involved I could believe just about anything.

Suddenly, it was as if the unseasonable warmth of her greenhouse were
pressing down upon me, slowly suffocating me into obeying her instructions.
A puddle of melted snow was quickly gathering around my feet, and my fingers
were still stiff from the cold, but inside my jacket I was drenched with
sweat. Before I could shrug out of my jacket, though, I took a second look
at her note:

" . . . toss it down the laundry chute with your wet clothes . . ."

I wasn't sure if she meant to include my jacket and boots in that statement,
but I didn't yet feel comfortable enough to interpret her wishes. Of course,
I could always ask, but that would mean waking her prematurely - something I
couldn't do. In the end, I decided it would be better to look silly than to
risk offending her.

So, taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and dove into the pool.

<>

"Damn. I have no idea whether she prefers her toast plain, or with something
on top. Maybe I should put a little jam or something on the side of the
plate, just to be safe." Unsure as to Diana's tastes, I shrugged my
shoulders and grabbed the jar of strawberry jam from her fridge. Leaving it
next to the toaster, I turned back to the kitchen table and sat down to read
through her instructions again:

"tanya,

While you may dispense with the swim in the future, I expect you to remember
the details of this morning's ritual. At no time shall you enter my home
wearing anything more than the collar you should be wearing now."

Self-consciously fingering the one-inch strip of pale blue velvet around my
throat, I continued reading:

"Your first stop inside my home shall always be the kitchen, where you will
find your outfit for the day. I expect you to pay special attention to what
is laid out for you, as it shall indicate both my mood and my intentions for
your visit. While I may mix and match your outfits from time to time, you
can always count on the following basics.

Firstly, lace and satin lingerie - such as you had better be wearing now -
means I wish to be pampered. Such a day shall always begin with breakfast in
bed, so I suggest you learn my tastes quickly. As for the rest of the day,
think soft . . . tender . . . sensual . . . and you will know what I expect.

Second, casual wear - which you shall work particularly hard to earn - means
I expect to share the day with a girlfriend. Be prepared for anything from a
little girl-talk, to an afternoon of shopping, to an evening of club
hopping. I'm sure some of these ideas strike terror into your heart now, but
you will come to crave such adventures.

Finally, fetish wear - leather, latex, PVC, nurse's & maid's uniforms,
etc. - means I expect to be pleasured, and pleasured well. Be your most
docile, submissive, obedient, feminine self and expect absolutely anything."

Just then, the toast popped, denying me the opportunity to really think
about what I'd gotten myself into. Not that it would have made a
difference - I meant it when I said I would do anything to show my
gratitude - but I was feeling somewhat overwhelmed. It was a lot to absorb
in one morning, and I was terrified of slipping up or making a mistake that
might cost me my Amazonian Goddess' trust.

Quickly, I buttered her toast, pooled a little jam on the side of the plate,
and poured her a fresh cup of coffee. I knew I was rushing things a bit -
for instance, I would have preferred to neatly arrange the orange slices
around her toast -- but I wanted to get everything to her while it was still
warm. So, allowing myself a moment to nervously adjust my baby blue
peignoir, I stepped into my matching heels and prepared to serve Diana her
breakfast in bed.

<>

"Good morning, D-" catching myself a fraction of a second too late, I
hastily amended, "Goddess." My hands were trembling as I approached the bed,
but I managed to lay the tray down over her legs without spilling anything.
Taking a careful step back I curtsied politely. "I . . . I hope everything
is to your liking."

An enigmatic smile on her face, she propped a pillow behind her back and
scooted back into a sitting position. Pulling the navy blue comforter down
until it just barely covered her nipples - a momentary glimpse of large,
dark aureole was all I was allowed - she took a sip of her coffee and said,
"So far, so good." With that, she picked up one of the orange slices and
slid it slowly, almost seductively, into her mouth, then licked her fingers
clean. "Mmmmmmm."

I knew she was toying with me, putting on a show to see how I'd react, but I
was too nervous to really appreciate it. Was I supposed to arrange the
pillow for her? What if she preferred margarine to butter on her toast? Did
she really like her coffee black, or was she ignoring the cream and sugar I'
d brought up with me because it was my job to prepare her coffee properly? I
had so many questions, so many doubts, but I didn't know how to ask.

As she slipped another orange slice between her lips, she shook her head
softly. "tanya, that deer-in-the-headlights look you have going on is cute,
but you'll have to get over it." Chuckling softly, she told me, "Respect . .
. obedience . . . submission . . . perhaps a little nervous awe is okay,
expected even. However, you're not going to be much use to me if you're
constantly in fear of your life."

I lowered my head in shame and knelt next to the bed. "I am sorry, Goddess."
Suddenly overwhelmed by the scent of her perfume, I sighed in contentment.
"It's just that this is all so new to me, and I want everything to be
perfect."

"Nothing is perfect, tanya."

"I know, but perfect is what you deserve." Anxiously rubbing the back of my
hand, I told her, "You've done more for me than I have any right to desire,
and you've never asked for anything in return. I mean, you graciously
allowed me to come and show my gratitude today, but it wasn't something you
demanded of me." Just then I paused, a curious revelation dawning upon me.
It took a moment to understanding for sink in, but then I looked up at her
and smiled shyly.

"That's the whole point, isn't it, Goddess? It's just like you said in your
letter - sometimes you want a kinky fetish slave, but other times you just
want some companionship. By giving me some freedom to please you, you've
learned more about me in just a few days than years of barking orders and
watching me obey could ever provide."

My Goddess enjoyed a long sip of coffee, then graced me with another warm
smile. "Very good, tanya. Keep this up and I just may decide to keep you
around." A pink blush spread across my cheeks as I looked down at the carpet
again, but she just laughed. "Now, why don't you take care of my toes while
I finish my breakfast? You'll find the nail file and polish on top of my
dresser. Pick something bright, but soft, and take your time. I like my
nails to look their best."

Relieved, I curtsied again before turning to obey.

<>

"tanya?"

Having just lit the final candle, I jumped to my feet and scurried to the
bathroom door. As I turned out the lights, I assured her, "All is ready for
you, Goddess."

"Very good."

Filled with a nervous excitement the likes of which I had never experienced
before, I opened the door and waited for my Amazonian Goddess to join me.
Once I'd painted both her toes and fingers she had sent me back downstairs
to clean up the kitchen while she waited for her nails to dry. Upon my
return she'd then had me put one of her aerobics tapes in the VCR and
dismissed me to prepare her bath.

The tub itself was big enough to fit two people comfortably, so it had taken
quite a while to fill - especially since I had to pause near the end and
wait for the hot water to build up again. I'd had to add three times the
amount of bubblebath I normally used at home, and even then you could barely
detect the lavender scent. It turned out that wasn't as big a concern as I'd
feared, though, for the two dozen candles situated around the tub were
scented themselves. Once they were lit, the combined effect was both calming
and arousing, although I'm sure the arousal was more of my own doing than
anything else.

Now, nearly fifteen minutes later, she was ready for her bath and -
fortunately - it was ready for her.

Dressed only in a black dressing gown, my Goddess stepped into the bathroom
and closed the door behind her. Pausing before me, she said, "You may let my
hair down first, tanya."

"Yes, Goddess." As I stepped forward, the sweet, pungent scent of her musk
washed over me. Feeling guilty - but unable to stop myself - I took a deep
breath and savoured her scent before starting on her hair. One by one I
removed the clips from her hair, freeing those damp, silky tresses from
their elegant prison. Feeling all that luxurious hair wash over my hands
aroused me even more, but I forced myself to concentrate on the task at
hand.

When I finished, she stretched out her arms and waited for me to remove her
gown. At first, I paused - I didn't feel worthy of gazing upon her naked
form - but I just reminded myself that it was what she wanted. Physically
trembling, I took the soft terrycloth material between my fingers and slowly
peeled it away, stepping back as I did so to make it easier on my Goddess.
The instant her naked beauty was revealed, I forced myself to turn away and
hang her robe over the back of the door.

"tanya?"

"Yes, Goddess?"

I swear I could hear her smiling. "Turn around, tanya."

Nodding once, I took a deep breath and did as she commanded.

"Wow." Eyes wide, mouth gaping, and palms sweaty, I gasped in wonder. While
I knew I hadn't yet seen her at her best, not even my own fantasies were
adequate preparation for the vision before me. She was so intensely
beautiful, had such a wondrous glow to her, that I was almost willing to
believe she WAS a Goddess.

Her six-foot Amazonian frame was even more well developed than her gym
clothes had hinted at, with nary a stretch mark, freckle, or visible vein to
mar her perfect flesh. I had expected some physical sign of transformation,
some evidence of her gruelling workout regime, but it was as if she'd been
born into her beauty. Even her 40DD breasts looked perky and fresh,
appearing to float upon her torso rather than droop and sway. On any other
woman I'd have said that was a sign of implants, but I instinctively knew my
Goddess needed no such medical enhancement.

"So," she said, snapping me out of my trance, "I take it you approve?"

I immediately dropped to my knees and bowed my head. "Please forgive me,
Goddess. I know you gave me permission to look, but that's no excuse for the
way I acted. It's just-"

"Hush." She reached down, took a handful of my thick, dark hair, and yanked
my head back. "I want you to look . . . to admire . . . to worship my body
with your eyes." An amused smile on her face, she promised, "The glaze in
your eyes provides a more honest reflection than a mere mirror could ever
offer. Do NOT deny me that."

Now that I understood my role a little better I was able to return her
smile. "You may count on me for that, Goddess."

"Very good." Chuckling softly, she released me and made her way over to the
tub. "Now, get undressed and join me in the tub. You may wash me as I
relax."

"Yes, Goddess!"

For the next half-hour I soaked next to my Goddess, washing and caressing
her magnificent body with an almost religious passion. I started with her
perfect, dainty feet, massaging the lightly wrinkled soles while I paid
special attention to the red, tender patch of skin beneath her left ankle.
Next I made my way up her legs, luxuriating in the feel of her smooth,
hairless, unblemished flesh. There was a nervous, awkward moment when I
approached the top of her thighs, but she diverted my attention with one
brief, powerful squeeze. She barely even flexed her muscles, but that
scissors-action was enough to make me flinch in discomfort.

After that I took my time washing her stomach, reached around to do her
back, let my hands climb up to her neck, and then ran them back down both
her arms. While just being near her had me riding a constant wave of
physical and emotional arousal, I was very careful to avoid anything that
might be considered intimate.

Until, that is, she directed my attention to her wondrous breasts.

"Be very careful with my bouncing babies, tanya," she warned. I was sitting
with her legs still scissored around my waist, so I was able to look her in
the eyes as I accepted her commands. "I am trusting that you are capable of
caring for them properly, so do not disappoint me." Coming from any other
woman, a comment like that probably would have elicited a laugh on my part,
but I sensed she was quite serious. I mean, there had to be a secret behind
breasts that incredible, so I would do my duty to my Goddess and - perhaps -
learn something to help myself as well.

Following her directions to the letter, I began by placing my soapy palms
flat against her stomach, slowly sliding them up under her breasts. Turning
only my wrists, I gently caressed my way up from the underside of her firm,
beautiful mounds, gently massaging them with my fingers. Then, pausing just
short of her huge, rosy aureole, I slid my hands up and over the top of her
breasts and began the process all over again.

"Do you like them, tanya?"

I looked up into her bright green eyes and smiled. "Yes. Very much,
Goddess."

Quietly, almost too softly for me to hear, she asked, "I bet you'd like a
pair of your very own, wouldn't you?"

I felt a shudder of nervous delight shoot through my body at her words. She
knew exactly what I wanted, and I was beginning to believe she really might
be able to make me over in her image. Of course, I could never possess
breasts like hers, but anything would be an improvement over what nature had
mistakenly given me.

Slowly working my thumbs around her rock-hard nipples, I smiled in delight
to hear her gentle moan. "I would give anything to attain even a fraction of
your feminine beauty, Goddess. You have been my guide, my teacher, my role
model, my-"

"Kiss them, tanya." Suddenly, she grabbed the back of my head and pulled it
to her breast. I didn't even see her move - one second I was gazing into her
eyes, and the next I had a face-full of warm, soapy cleavage. "Kiss them . .
. lick them . . . suck them clean, tanya. Even the gentlest soap can dry
your skin, and I don't trust a simple washcloth to get me clean." I could
feel her soapy flesh sliding around beneath my face as she spoke, but I was
still too stunned to react. "Wash me with your mouth, clean me with your
tongue, and perhaps I'll let you show me just how grateful you are."

Fortunately, I didn't need to think to obey. While I was still marvelling at
my luck, instinct took over and nudged me into action. Timidly at first, I
stuck out my tongue to taste the soap on her breasts and was immediately
relieved by the fact that she trusted only natural, herbal sources. While
the taste was unmistakable soapy, there was none of the harsh, chemical
taste I remembered from my childhood.

Before long I was licking and kissing and sucking her soapy flesh as if it
were coated with the sweetest icing. With my Goddess' warmth surrounding me,
the sound of her heartbeat before me, and her soft moans of pleasure above,
I was in a state of hypnotic bliss.

She continued to hold me close long after she was clean, and I continued to
perform my oral ministrations long after she released me. Actually, if it
hadn't been for the fact that our water was starting to chill, we probably
would have remained like that all day.

"tanya." My Goddess pinched my chin between two fingers and gently forced me
to look up into her eyes. "You have performed well, but you're not done yet.
There is still something you haven't taken care of."

While she continued to hold me with her eyes, she slipped her feet up onto
my chest and pushed me away. For my part, all I could do was slide backwards
in the tub until I felt the cold, hard faucet pressing against my spine.
Even then, I couldn't look away from her eyes.

"Since we're almost done, and the water is getting cold, I've saved you the
trouble of soaping up my pussy. While you performed your oral duties above,
I took the liberty of soaping myself down below." Suddenly, she yanked my
head down until I was staring at the white, foamy patch between her legs.
"Now, a woman's labia aren't quite as sensitive as her breasts, but I do so
hate the feel of a soapy pussy."

My breath coming hard and heavy, I twisted my legs beneath me until I was
kneeling between her calves. "If you find me worthy, Goddess, I would be
honoured to complete your bath. Please, just say the word and I shall-"

"Yes, you shall." With one fluid movement she pinched my nose shut, plunged
my head underwater, pressed my face to her pussy . . . and simply held me
there until she was clean.

<>

"tanya?"

Still in the process of extinguishing the candles around the tub, I turned
and smiled. "Yes, Goddess?"

"When you are done in here, please slip into your robe and join me out by
the pool. My hair needs to be braided properly, and I think you might
appreciate the extra light to work with." She leaned down and bestowed a
quick kiss upon my lips. "Don't keep me waiting."

Hoping the blush on my cheeks wasn't nearly as obvious as it felt, I just
nodded.

Part 4

"Good morning, Brian."

"Yeah?" I forced a hanger inside my coat and slammed it into the closet.
"What's so fucking good about it?" I snarled.

The receptionist visibly flinched as I turned to face her. "Gee . . . rough
start to the day, or what?"

Later, I knew I'd feel bad for having taken my frustrations out on her, but
the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. "I woke up too late
to take a shower, spent twenty minutes trying to chisel the ice off my car,
got stuck behind some asshole doing about 30km on the highway, then got a
fucking ticket when I pulled onto the shoulder to pass him." Already walking
away, I snapped, "You'd think people in this city had never seen winter
before!"

"Well . . . I hope it gets better." Even without turning, I knew she was
watching me with a shy, sheepish grin. Her grey eyes would be wide with
concern, and she'd probably be twirling a strand of dirty blonde hair around
her finger. Nice as she was, Laura wasn't built for confrontation - which
was why she hadn't lasted long on the phones.

"Not bloody likely."

<>

"Thank you for calling help desk. Andrew here."

I shook my head in disgust. Of all the people to take this call off my
hands, Andrew was the last person I wanted. Not only was he abrupt with
other reps, but he was often short with customers too. How he'd lasted so
long on help-desk I had no idea, but I wasn't in the mood to hang up and try
for somebody else.

"Yeah," I sighed, "I've got a customer who wants to speak to a supervisor."
Not even giving him a chance to ask for the details, I offered, "Name is
Richards, first name Farrah, and the address is 1209 McKorel Court." Tossing
my glasses down on the desk, I roughly massaged the bridge of my nose as I
said, "She wants a month's credit that she doesn't deserve and is demanding
we provide written notice stating that we will not charge her VISA again
without permission."

Andrew muttered something under his breath. "Why does she want a credit?"

Having already gone through this several times with the customer, I rattled
off the details from memory. "She's not happy with the service, says it's
not what she expected, and she shouldn't have to pay. There's no record of
her having called before now, and there's no indication of problems in her
area or with her service. I offered a week's credit to make her happy, but
that wasn't good enough."

"Well, if there's no history of problems there's nothing I can do."

"Yes. I know that." I could feel my headache getting worse, but I knew he
wasn't going to take responsibility for the call without a fight. "I've been
telling her that for the last half hour, but she won't accept it. She wants
somebody above me who-"

"Did she ask for a supervisor?"

Son of a bitch. I knew this was coming. "Not by name, no, but-"

Even though we were on different sides of the office, I could hear the way
he was shrugging off the call. "Then there's nothing I can do."

"Look, don't give me that shit, okay? I've been sitting here listening to
this woman bitch at me for half an hour. I've been as pleasant and polite as
anyone could possibly expect, explained the issue six different ways, and
did my best to make her happy. She's obviously not willing to listen to me,
and wants somebody with - and I quote - some goddamned authority."

The condescending bastard had the nerve to apologise for being such an
asshole. "Sorry, bud, but if she didn't ask for a supervisor then you're on
your own."

I wanted to reach through the phone and strangle him, but forced myself to
remain calm. "This is the fifth irate customer I've dealt with this
afternoon, and the only one I've had to escalate. So, let me tell you what's
gonna happen here. Number one, you can do your goddamned job and take the
call. Number two, I can call help-desk back and cold transfer the bitch
without any warning. Number three, I can 'accidentally' disconnect her and
let the next unfortunate rep deal with her." Finishing off my entry in the
customer's database file as I spoke, I told Andrew, "I was supposed to be
out of here twenty minutes ago and I ain't dealing with her again." I saved
the entry and began logging off the system. "So . . . bud -- what's it gonna
be?"

<>

Cold, wet, and in a foul mood, I trudged across the slushy street and jerked
open the door to the gym. Usually, I looked forward to my workout as a
chance to forget my troubles, work out a few frustrations, and - best of
all - bond with my Goddess. This was just one of those days, though, that
wasn't going to be so easily dismissed from my mind.

Apparently, I must have looked as pissed as I felt, because the normally
outgoing receptionist didn't even try to strike up a conversation. My
knuckles white where they gripped the pen, I scrawled my name and membership
number in the book, nearly tearing through the page. Then, all but slamming
the pen down, I grabbed my gymbag and turned for the changeroom.

"tanya."

If only I'd taken a moment to think. If I'd even paused long enough to take
a single breath, I surely would have recognised the musical call of my
Goddess. Instead, I whirled around and snapped, "What?"

She didn't say a word.

She didn't blink. She didn't frown. She didn't scowl.

She just turned away, as if I didn't exist, and casually strolled into the
women's changeroom.

That would prove to be the last I'd see - or hear - of her for nearly a
week.

<>

It was with a heavy heart and sweaty palms that I parked before my Goddess'
house Sunday morning. After having been shunned - and rightfully so - for
the past week, I had no idea whether I'd be welcome or not. Even now, it
seemed inconceivable that I could have acted so harshly towards her, and I
knew there was absolutely no excuse for my behaviour. The memory of our last
brief, disastrous encounter had left a foul taste in my mouth, so much so
that I wanted to be sick.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the luxury of feeling sorry for myself. I had
dishonoured my Goddess, and I was going to have to work very hard to make it
up to her.

As I climbed out of the car and over the snowbank left by the passing plows,
I wondered if I should have left my clothes in the car. I quickly dismissed
the thought. Although such a symbolic sacrifice might have aided my cause,
the sight of a naked man skulking outside her home would only bring further
grief to my Goddess.

Carefully, quietly, I entered the greenhouse in back and choked back a
strangled sob of regret. We'd spent the entire afternoon out here last
Sunday, and it had brought us closer than I had ever dreamed possible. It
had been like we were best friends -- sisters even -- enjoying a bit of fun
by the pool. I hadn't felt so close to another person in a very long time,
and I loved her for granting me that gift.

Loved her so much that I had snapped in anger and ruined everything we'd
built!

I was disappointed - if not completely surprised - to find she'd changed the
locks on her door. Hoping desperately for some sign that I might be able to
win back her trust, I circled the pool a dozen times, but there was no key
hidden in its clear, chlorine depths.

"You stupid, idiotic, moronic, shortsighted, selfish bastard," I chastised
myself. Caught between the urge to drown myself in the pool, and the urge to
throw myself at her door wailing for forgiveness, I sighed. "What the hell
are you going to do now, huh?"

<>

A few minutes short of three hours later, I collapsed to my knees before her
door and hung my head in shame. Desperate for some way to show my remorse, I
'd shovelled my Goddess' driveway, cleaned off her front porch, weeded her
garden, swept the walk around her pool, and even wiped down her patio
furniture with my good shirt. I knew they were all small, meaningless
gestures, but I had to start somewhere.

"What?"

I hadn't even heard the door open. Startled, my head snapped up to meet her
accusing gaze. Deep in my heart I had feared I might never see my Goddess
again, but here she was, literally towering over me, her Amazonian frame
filling the doorway. Clad head to toe in a skin-tight, black PVC catsuit,
her stiletto heels added several inches to her already imposing height.
Combined with the scowl of disgust on her face, it was like looking up into
the face of doom.

I forced myself to swallow my fear as I lowered my eyes to stare at her
feet. "Please . . . please forgive me, Goddess. There is no excuse for how I
acted the other night, and I am sorry. I'd been through a really bad day and
I took it out on you. It was inexcusable." The reflection staring back at me
from her boots clearly showed the tears running down my cheeks, but I forced
myself to continue. "I was thoughtless, Goddess. I was thoughtless,
careless, and rude. I . . . I know I don't deserve it, but I am begging for
a chance to make it up to you . . . to prove myself worthy of your
attentions all over again."

Moving faster than I'd ever seen before, she lashed out, grabbed a fistful
of my hair, and jerked me inside the door. Before I could even catch my
breath, she'd wrapped a black leather collar around my neck, buckled it as
tight as it would possibly go, then kicked me towards the stairs.

"Basement," she scowled. "Now."

Unsure of what to expect, but knowing I deserved whatever awaited me in the
darkness below, I hastily crawled my way down the stairs. Under other
circumstances, I'm sure my journey into the darker side of my Goddess' realm
would have been exciting and arousing. However, this was definitely a
worst-case scenario, which meant I had to fight to keep my mind from
straying beyond the cold, uncarpeted stairs.

"Turn left," she snapped, "and kneel in the centre of the room."

She waited until I had obeyed before following me into the darkness. With my
head down, all I could do was listen to the sharp sound of her stiletto
heels as she passed . . . the angry sound of her breathing as she came to
stand behind me . . . and the terrifying whistle of her riding crop as it
came down upon my back.

Doing my best to remain motionless, I clenched my teeth in pain and awaited
the next fiery sensation.

It never came.

"No. That will teach you nothing." She dropped the riding crop to the floor,
then came around to stand before me. "If I am going to punish you for your
behaviour, then it will have to be something significant to you in order to
have any meaning." My Goddess grabbed my hair again and jerked my head up
until I could just barely make out the shine of her eyes in the darkness.
"Do you wish to be punished, tanya?"

"Yes, Goddess! I have wronged you, and I desperately want to make amends.
Whatever you decide is justified, Goddess, I shall accept and be grateful
for it. Please, just--"

Suddenly, she silenced my pleas with a cold, clammy, rubber ball-gag. Of
course, I couldn't see what it was she'd forced into my mouth, but the taste
and feel of rubber was unmistakable. While I marvelled at the speed with
which she moved - her Amazonian size was very deceptive - she pinched my jaw
and yanked it down so as to force more of the gag inside my mouth. By the
time she was finished, my lips felt like they were going to split at the
seams, but I knew I had deserved every uncomfortable moment.

"This," she told me, "is to prevent any repeats of the other night. Perhaps
later I will let you apologise, but you haven't yet earned that right.
Understand?"

I nodded.

"Good."

With that, she walked away, leaving me to kneel silently in the darkness for
what seemed like an eternity. During that time my imagination provided its
own sinister punishment, making me wonder what her darkened dungeon really
contained. Truthfully, I might have been kneeling in nothing more than a
domestic laundry room, but I sincerely doubted that.

It just wasn't my Goddess' style.

The sound of her heels upon the stairs was the first sign of her return, but
gave me no chance to prepare for what came next. Before I heard her reach
the bottom, my eyes were assaulted with the sudden glow of red, fluorescent
lights. It was like the room around me had burst into flame, which I knew
was preposterous, yet still remained an effective means of keeping me off my
guard.

"Lay down, on your back, and spread yourself wide." The instant I complied,
she sat herself down between my thighs and placed a bucket of hot wax almost
right against my crotch. "To start with," she explained, "I am going to take
something you enjoy, an act that you treasure as a part of your femininity,
and use it against you." She began pulling a ladle from the wax, then
paused. "You will, of course, remain completely still and accept your
punishment."

The heat radiating off the bucket was enough to make me break out in a cold
sweat, but I forced myself to nod calmly. As much as I feared what was to
come next, I knew in my heart that it was a small price to pay if I could
regain her trust.

The first drop of scalding wax upon my leg was an agony I'd never thought to
experience. It seemed to burn right through to my bones, but I forced myself
to lay there and endure it. The second drop was infinitely worse than the
first -- mostly because I knew what to expect - and left me wondering if I
could endure without passing out. Once she began pouring the wax along my
leg, though, I found the constant pain a little easier to deal with.

The problem was, of course, that applying the wax was only the first step.

How I managed to keep from lashing out as she tore the first strip of waxy
hair from my leg I'll never know. The only thing I know for sure is that the
ball-gag probably saved my tongue from being bit clean in two. My Goddess
wasn't pulling any punches, and wasn't doing anything to spare me the pain
of a full-body waxing. Like she had said, taking something I treasured -
keep myself hairless, like a real woman - and turning it against me was a
stroke of genius. It was a punishment that carried both physical and
psychological implications, and was impossible to ignore.

<>

"tanya . . . wake up, tanya."

For a moment, I experienced a frightening flash of confusion and
disorientation, but the cold caress of my Goddess' latex glove slapping my
cheek reminded me of where I was. Although I couldn't remember doing so, I
must have passed out before she could finish my waxing.

"Here." Apparently having already removed the ball-gag from my mouth, she
replaced it with the nozzle of my familiar sports-bottle. "Not that I think
you deserve this, but it's obvious you need something to keep you going."

My mouth was very dry, and at first sucking was a chore, but she was right -
I needed it. As I gratefully slurped down the strange tasting fluid, I
noticed that it seemed slightly thicker, with more of a medicinal taste
beneath the cherry flavour. Maybe it was just the fact that I'd gone a week
without my Goddess' assistance at the gym, but I was sure it tasted
different . . . stronger, perhaps. Then again, given that I'd passed out
during the first phase of my punishment, stronger was just what I needed.

When she finally pulled it away, I managed to gasp, "Thank . . . thank you,
Goddess."

"For what?"

I didn't even pause. "For deeming me worthy of punishment, Goddess. For
taking the time to correct me and remind me of my duties, when you could
have just as easily banished me from your presence." A visible tremor passed
through my body as I admitted, "I feared you might never want to see me
again."

She smiled, but it went no farther than her lips. Her eyes were still as
cold and unfeeling as they had been when we'd started, and that bothered me
more than any threat of physical pain. "My mind's not made up yet."

While I pondered that ominous warning, she snapped a leash onto my collar
and yanked me to my feet. Cramped and tired as I was, I did my best to
stumble along behind her as she led me to the other side of the room. Here,
the harsh red light was a little brighter, allowing me to admire just how
perfect her Amazonian frame really was. Although I should have been worrying
about what she had in mind now, all I could think of was how I longed to
throw myself at her feet and worship her PVC-clad beauty.

"Stand before the mirror and tell me what you see."

I nervously shuffled my feet to the side, watching as my body was slowly
revealed through its reflection. What I noticed first was the pattern of
red, swollen patches of flesh left over from my waxing. The room's red
lighting certainly didn't do anything to help the situation, but I knew they
'd look rough for at least another day. Once I got over the shock, though, I
noticed just how smooth and hairless I was. There was absolutely no sign of
the stubble left my shaving, and I loved it.

It was with a sigh of regret that I looked up past my limp cock to examine
the rest of my body. There I found the same red, painful scars of my
waxing - which I'd expected - along with a pair of nipples so puffy and
swollen I nearly swooned in delight. Even if my Goddess hadn't been present,
I wouldn't have risked a caress - they just looked painful - but I loved how
feminine they appeared.

Finally, I took a deep breath and looked myself in the eyes. What I saw
there was a perplexing mix of genders; a confusing collage that left me
feeling somewhat disgusted. It looked as if my Goddess had done my hair and
makeup while I lay passed out, and she'd done an exquisite job. My
already-long dark hair looked fantastic, having been teased, curled and
styled into an 80s kinda look. Having never learned to do my hair myself, I
loved her for that.

As for my makeup, it was bright, bold and oh-so-slutty. She'd trimmed my
eyebrows, applied some dark blue eyeshadow, then curled and thickened my
lashes. My cheeks were positively glowing with a heavy blush, which was set
off by the strange lighting, and my shiny red lips looked fuller, sexier
than ever before. Unfortunately, the perfection she'd created only served to
highlight her single, glaring omission.

I still possessed a half-day's growth of ugly, dark, masculine stubble.

"It's a disturbing combination, isn't it?" Her voice was soft, seductive . .
. yet cold and mocking at the same time. "Part of it delights you, part of
it arouses you, and part of it humiliates you. You don't like being reminded
of what you are, and this only glorifies what it is you're trying to
escape."

There was nothing I could do to stop the tears coursing down my cheeks. What
I saw before me was everything she said, and nothing I ever wanted to see
again. During my darkest depths of depression - before I dedicated my life
to revealing the woman inside me - this was exactly how I'd felt about
myself.

She lifted my hand to the mirror, displaying the obscenely long, red nails
she'd applied for me. Once she was sure I'd had a good look, she pushed my
hand back down and wrapped those feminine fingers around my cock. "Now," she
whispered, "you are going to masturbate yourself for me. And I don't want to
hear any excuses - either anoint your reflection with a healthy dose of
boy-cum, or you can leave right now."

Working myself into an orgasm was the last thing on my mind at that moment,
but I could not disappoint my Goddess. Even though I was too emotionally
distraught to understand her purpose, I knew this was not just a whim on her
part. Fortunately, she was standing right behind me, which meant I could
focus on her as a source of arousal.

Until she moved out of the reflection.

This was clearly something I'd have to do on my own.

<>

"Unggh . . . ahhh . . . ohhhhhh . . ." A long, difficult, painful, twenty
minutes later I finally coaxed my body into obeying the desires of my
Goddess. My orgasm wasn't exactly earth shattering, and my weak spurt of
watery cum barely reached the mirror, but I had done it. Despite the horrid
reflection before me - even more disgusting now that my beautifully styled
hair was flat with sweat, and my incredible makeup streaked with tears - I
had finally been able to clear my mind and focus on making amends to my
Goddess.

Already weak from my ordeal, I was powerless to resist as she pushed me to
my knees, then forced me to lick my own cum from the mirror. By that time, I
was incapable of feeling anything more, and was far too parched to taste the
evidence of my despised manhood. All I could do was rest my forehead against
the glass and let reflex guide my actions.

Meanwhile, my Goddess had re-entered the reflection, coming around to stand
behind me. Too ashamed to raise my head, I could only see her bright black
boots in the mirror, framing my pale, splotchy thighs. I wasn't sure what
she expected, or what I was even capable of, so I settled for repeating my
earlier vow to appease her.

"Thank . . . thank you, Goddess." The words escaping my throat only with
great difficulty, I gasped, "Please, just tell me what you require next, and
I shall obey." The tears were coming again, only this time they were
accompanied by sobs I could no longer control. "I . . . I want so much to be
forgiven!"

Suddenly, I felt myself being pulled back from the mirror, then lifted
easily into my Goddess' lap. As soon as I was in place, she spun us around
until we were facing away from the mirror, then let me slip to the floor.
Gently, without a word, she pressed me down until my head was nestled in the
warm, slippery valley of her PVC-clad breasts and wrapped her legs about my
waist. Not content to stop there, she wrapped her arms about me as well,
nearly erasing all my sorrows with that single gesture.

"tanya." She reached down to kiss the top of my head, prompting me to look
up and meet her gaze. To my surprise, her bright green eyes were damp with
tears of her own. "Promise me you will never make me put you through that
again." She squeezed me tight with both her arms and her legs. "Promise me,
tanya, or get out and never come back."

"Never again. Never, ever again." I reached up with a trembling hand and
wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "You have my word on that,
Goddess."

She just nodded, apparently not trusting herself to say anything for the
moment. Instead, she retrieved the familiar sports-bottle from beside her
and placed it to my lips. As I began to suck, I was immediately struck by
the fact that whatever gave it the medicinal taste had completely eclipsed
the cherry flavour. Instead of making it unpalatable, though, it just made
me crave even more.

Curious, I asked, "Goddess? It's not that I don't trust you implicitly, but
may I ask what is in this?"

At this, she smiled. "It's the same thing you've been drinking at the gym.
The same thing you've needed for a very long time, but never had the courage
to ask for." Her smile spread even wider at the look of surprise on my face,
bringing forth an amused, breathy chuckle. "Don't look so shocked, my dear.
You must have noticed the changes taking place in your body by now."

"Changes?"

"Yes. The swelling of your breasts, the tenderness of your nipples, the
softness of your cock - excuse me, sissy clit." She hugged me close again
and kissed my forehead. "I know it's probably happening too slowly for you,
and the changes have been too gradual for you to really notice, but it is
happening. You can take my word on that."

"B-B-B-But . . . how?" This was a revelation I hadn't expected - a gift I
hadn't yet earned, but would do everything in my power to be worthy of.
"What kind of hormones, Goddess? Where did you get them? How much is this
costing you?" The questions just kept coming.

"Shh." She pressed a finger to my lips, silencing me with the almost oily
taste of her catsuit. "The hormones are real, tanya - varying dosages of
Estraderm, Premarin, Aldactone, and Provera. All prescription strength, and
all perfectly legal. As for where they came from . . ." Here, her smile
slipped a bit, leaving her with a distracted, wistful look. "They're from a
friend."

I waited for a long moment, then whispered, "A friend, Goddess?"

She shook her head, the smile returning to her face. "Perhaps I'll tell you
about her another time. For now, I think we both could use a bath."

At that, we both smiled.

**Transgender Stories** · 05-20-2008, 01:07 PM

Part 5

After those darkest of days, the relationship between my Goddess and myself
blossomed wonderfully. It was as if we needed that horrible day to test our
compatibility, as well as our commitment to one another. While it never
would have occurred to me to doubt anything about her, I suspect there was
probably a subconscious need in me to know for sure - a need that I only
suspected after tasting her tears the night of my humiliation. The bond
between us had been forged anew that night, and we both knew it would stand
the test of time.

Over the course of the next month, my Goddess pushed me harder and further,
finding new reserves of strength and courage that only she could force me to
reach. In that time we went from an hour a night, three nights a week at the
gym, to two hours a night, five nights a week. She introduced me to machines
and routines I'd never imagined, and found ways to reshape my body beyond
what should have been physically possible. There were many nights where I
felt like crawling from the gym to my car, but I thanked her for every
gruelling moment.

Thanks to my Goddess I'd toned my legs, added some much-needed flesh to my
hips, dropped an inch-and-a-half from my waist, and - much to my delight -
developed my breasts into nearly a B-cup. Of course, the fact that she'd
stopped watering down my hormone drink was responsible for most of my breast
development, but even then I had my Goddess to thank. I didn't yet feel like
I'd achieved the body I should have been born with, but the erotic uniforms
I wore during my Sunday service were starting to fit a lot better.

Still, it wasn't until the first warm day in March that I discovered just
how satisfied my Goddess really was with my progress.

It was a little past 10:00 Saturday morning when I coasted down her driveway
on my bike, only to find her waiting beside the pool. Dressed all in black -
sports bra and spandex shorts, with Velcro sneakers waiting by her feet -
she looked ready to go. Waving a happy hello, I laid my bike against the
garage and slipped inside the greenhouse to greet her.

"Good morning, Goddess." Kneeling before her, I kissed her plum-painted toes
before helping her on with the shoes. "Thank you for inviting me to join
you. Your tanya is delighted that you find her worthy of today's outing, and
hopes she can make you proud."

Her coppery curls shone in the morning sunlight as she threw back her head
and laughed. "You have earned it, my dear, by providing such a wonderful
return on my investment. Now that I see how quickly you blossom into
femininity with a woman's guiding spirit behind you . . . well, it makes me
wish I'd snatched you from the cradle as a child."

"Mmm. Good thing your slave is already kneeling, Goddess, else a dream like
that would have her weak in the knees!"

My Amazonian Goddess laughed again, sending a thrill up my spine. "Let's get
you inside, my slut, and prepare for today's exercise." As she helped me up
from the ground, she gave me a hearty slap on the ass. "It's already a
gorgeous day, and I'd like to get going as soon as possible, so hop to it!"

<>

"Are . . . are you sure I look okay, Goddess?" For what seemed like the
hundredth time in the past hour, I snapped my head around to watch a passing
jogger, certain he'd start laughing as soon as he was behind us. Nobody
really gave me a second look - it was my Goddess who attracted the most
attention, and rightfully so - but I was still feeling very unsure and
self-conscious about myself.

As was the case with my Sunday sessions, I had entered the house naked
before seeking out my new clothes in the kitchen. Today they had consisted
of a hot-pink sports bra with matching panties, a pair of pink capris pants,
a white blouse, and white ladies' canvas sneakers. I'd been surprised by my
Goddess' choices, but had dutifully dressed as quickly as possible before
presenting myself to her.

Nodding thoughtfully, she'd then had me sit on the edge of her bed while she
painted my fingernails. Maybe I was just preternaturally sensitive to my
Goddess' touch, but I swear I felt each cold, wet stroke of the brush right
through my nails. After that, she'd quickly styled my hair into a cute, but
tidy ponytail that she promised would hold throughout the day - or at least
until she decided to rip it out in a fit of passion! Finally, she'd applied
the bare minimum of makeup to my blushing face. Just a little foundation
over my cheeks, some eyeshadow, and (of course) lipstick - enough to make me
presentable, but not so much that a little sweat would harm her creation.

"Silly slut." Waiting until we edged our way around a pair of novice inline
skaters, she pulled her bike close to mine and smiled. "What did I tell you
before we left, tanya? I said you looked pretty enough to take to the gym,
and nobody out here is going to get nearly as good a look as they would
indoors. If I didn't think you could pass, I never would have invited you to
join me." Suddenly, she lashed out with her left hand and tweaked my nipple.
"Now, stop being so silly, or I just might have to throw you down and rape
you in front of all these nice people!"

Not sure whether to be intimidated our aroused, I watched her kick her legs
into high gear, easily pulling away from me. "Hey," I giggled, "no fair
confusing me like that!" Still smiling, I found my anxiety had already
slipped away as I hurried to catch up.

<>

Three hours and I can't begin to guess how many miles later, she led us off
the trail and into one of the picnic areas that dominated the parkway. To
the families and tourists around us, we must have made quite a sight - an
Amazonian goddess, dressed all in black, with her pink-clad, slender
submissive behind her. I wasn't sure if I'd prefer to find out we were
stopping or just turning around, but when she pulled up to the bike-racks, I
found myself sighing in relief.

Arms crossed before her 40DD breasts, my Goddess stood back from the bikes
and allowed me to lock them up. "Once you're done there," she told me, "make
sure to give them both a quick inspection. I want to make sure there are no
surprises on the way home."

Nodding, I did as she ordered, checking the tires, brakes, gears, seats, and
so on. To my delight, this was an area I knew a lot about, so I honestly
felt like I could contribute something to my Goddess' routine. Everything
looked good, but I didn't want to risk missing something that might
inconvenience her later. As soon as I began double-checking things, though,
I heard a deep-throated chuckle from behind as she stepped forward to grab a
handful of my hair.

"Why don't you check that seat again, tanya?" Gently forcing my head down,
she said, "Pay very close attention . . . feel it . . . smell it . . . taste
it." She held my face less than an inch above the seat and waited patiently.
"Come on, my slut - what do your senses tell you?"

Fully aware of how much attention we must have been drawing to ourselves, I
licked my lips and forced myself to focus. First, I took a deep breath,
inhaling the scent of my Goddess' sweat . . . and something more. It was
heady, intoxicating, but there was more than just the musk of physical
exertion. Completely engrossed in my discovery, I leaned even closer until
my nose was pressing against the warm, wet seat. By now I didn't care who
might be watching, for I'd begun to suspect just what it was that my Goddess
wanted me to notice.

"Well?"

As my tongue darted out to lick the seat, I blushed. "You . . . you must
have really enjoyed our ride, Goddess." Suddenly oblivious to the fears and
anxiety that had plagued me off and on all afternoon, I enjoyed another long
lick. "Mmm," I admitted, "I can taste all your glorious juices!"

"Yes." She knelt down to whisper in my ear. "The hot sun beating down upon
me . . . the warm air whispering across my flesh . . . the spandex shorts
rubbing between my labia . . . the bicycle seat bouncing so roughly against
my clit . . . the sight of my cute little slave riding beside me." Having
let go of my hair, she wrapped her arms around me and began pulling at my
nipples. "I came three times during our ride, tanya - and we still have the
ride home ahead of us."

Eyes and ears only for her, I asked, "Would . . . would you like your slave
to clean the seat for you, Goddess?"

She chuckled softly and turned her head to nibble at my earlobe. "Only if
you beg."

I no longer cared who might be watching or listening. "May I please clean
your seat with my tongue, Goddess? May your slave lick up the wondrous,
delicious mess of your cum and your sweat?" Here I was, kneeling in the
middle of a public park, begging to lick a soiled bicycle seat - and loving
it. "I know I am not worthy, Goddess, but I promise I will make-"

"Shh." She was pressing my face into the black seat again, and holding me
there. "Lick. Suck. Kiss. Show all these happy families just what a real
picnic can be." She laughed loudly at the blush spreading across my cheeks.
"Do a good job, tanya, and I just might let you take care of my panties when
we're done."

All I could manage in reply was a muffled "Mmmmm!" but we both knew what I
meant.

<>

"Not that I doubt you, my slut, but do you really have the slightest idea
where we are going?" Her lips pursed thoughtfully, my Goddess paused beside
a Volvo-sized boulder to stretch. I watched, mesmerised, as she arched
herself back over the rock, rising onto the very tips of her toes until the
DD valley of her breasts seemed to cradle the sky.

Gawd, what I wouldn't give for that kind of supple, effortless, flexibility!

"While it is very nice down here," she sighed, "and while you have been a
wonderful guide . . ."

With the blinding reflexes of a cat, she snapped upright from the rock and
literally pounced upon me. Startled, I had only a moment to appreciate the
black-clad beauty being thrust upon me. A fleeting glimpse of copper curls
streaming behind a wide, crazy grin exploded upon my vision, then even that
was lost as she swept me off my feet and tossed me over her shoulder.

"I have needs, tanya - needs that only my cute little slut can satisfy!
Now," she growled playfully, "which way to your nearest little slice of
paradise?"

Unable to repress a squeal of girlish glee, I pretended to struggle against
her grip. "Th-th-that way, Goddess!" Thoroughly enjoying my own
helplessness, I thrilled to the sharp slap of her hand across my ass,
especially since it was so closely followed by a honest to goodness grope.
"J-j-just over the next ridge," I panted, "and around the f-f-f-fallen . . .
fallen tree!"

"Good. Let's go."

<>

As we emerged from the thick, broken foliage of the fallen tree, she
actually gasped in wonder. Before us was a small, sun-drenched clearing with
gentle waves lapping against the shore to our left, and thick brush all
around that effectively hid paradise from all but those who knew precisely
where to look. However, while all of that was wonderful and beautiful, it
was the unusual river-hewn boulder directly ahead that had captured my
Goddess' attention.

"tanya, this . . . this is so much more than I expected." Not taking her
eyes from the scene before us, she gently lowered me to the ground, then
wrapped her arms about my waist. "Tell me," she whispered into my ear, "how
did all this come about?"

"Time," I smiled, "lots and lots of time." It felt strange to be teaching my
Goddess, when it should have been the other way around, but I was delighted
to have something so unique to offer. "The boulders themselves were
deposited here by receding glaciers," I explained, "and subtly shaped by
centuries upon centuries of being submerged in the raging rapids. Over time,
the persistent, swirling eddies of the river gradually ate away at the
stone, leaving-"

"Leaving," she finished, "a lovely granite couch upon which a Goddess might
take her slave amidst the great outdoors." She slipped her strong hands down
my body to cup the panty-clad cheeks of my ass and thrust me forward. "Lie
down, my slut, and prepare to worship at the fountain of my sex!"

She didn't have to ask me twice! Grinning like a schoolgirl - albeit, a very
naughty schoolgirl - I hurried over and laid myself down upon the cool stone
couch. The hard, smooth surface left a chill along my back, but I was sure
we'd be warming up soon. While I was a little nervous about our
exhibitionistic adventure, I had to admit it carried an extra thrill that
really seemed to be turning on my Goddess. There was a fire and passion in
her gaze that I'd never seen before, and there was a damp spot on the front
of her shorts that was spreading even as I watched.

"Open those pretty lips," she hissed, "and stick out your tongue." Hands on
her hips, she began sauntering forward. "Farther. Reach. Stick that tongue
out farther, tanya. You are going to lick me to orgasm, and then I'm going
to take off my shorts and you're going to do it again." She halted before
me, close enough that I could smell the juices soaking through her shorts.
"And then I'm going to take off my panties," she promised, "and you're going
to do it all over again."

I was about to tell her I'd be more than happy to do it as many times as she
desired, but never had the chance. The instant that final command slid
seductively across her lips, she launched herself up into the air, literally
landing on my face. I hadn't expected her to pounce upon me so suddenly, but
my pained gasp turned out to be a pleasant surprise itself as it filled my
lungs with the pungent aroma of her musk.

"Huhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmm!" Eyes closed in rapture, I began licking away at the
sweaty, cum-soaked crotch of my Goddess's shorts. The heady mixture alone
would have been enough to send me straight to heaven, but the way she was
grinding herself against my tongue was just plain sinful!

It couldn't have been much more than a minute later before she climaxed upon
me. Two quick, whimpering moans were all the warning she offered, and even
then I was too busy to really notice. All I knew was that her hump-n-bump
style of grinding suddenly came to a halt, only to be replaced with one
long, drawn-out thrust against my face.

"Not bad, my slut." Her face flushed, she stood up on the stone couch and
straddled my head with her black sneakers. From where I lay, the view was
unbelievably exquisite - from the dark, dripping mound of her shorts . . .
to the sweaty, nipple-peaked mounds of her sports bra . . . to the
glistening, grinning smile of her face. At that moment, she could have told
me she truly was an immortal Amazonian Goddess of ages past, and I would
have believed every word of it.

Sliding slender, powerful fingers beneath the waistband of her shorts, she
began pushing them slowly down her legs. I thought I had a few moments to
rest, but as soon as that black, dripping crotch was suspended about halfway
down her thighs, she performed another of her catlike pounces and dropped to
kneel astride my head. "Take them into your mouth," she told me, "and get
ready to pull - NOW!"

Pushing off with those same incredible, muscular thighs, my Goddess jumped
up and away from my face with enough force to give me whiplash. To my
credit, I managed to keep my teeth firmly clamped around my prize, although
I nearly lost them when they came free from her feet to snap back harshly
against my face.

"Spit them out! Quickly!"

Wincing and squinting with the sting of wet spandex, I did as she commanded.
I tossed my head to the side, flinging her shorts onto the ground, then
turned back just in time to have her slam back down upon me once again.
Stunned, I needed a moment to catch my bearings, but with nothing between
her glorious sex and my tongue but a thin layer of black satin . . . well, I
had every reason to come to my senses!

"Lick it, tanya!" she screamed. "Yessss . . . oh, yes . . . just . . . like
. . . that!" She wasn't just grinding herself against my face this time --
she was thrashing and dancing upon my tongue like a woman possessed.

For my part, I was blinded by the frantically writhing pussy above me,
deafened by the quivering thighs to either side, and muffled by the
delicious satin wrapped around my tongue. Physically, my Goddess' pleasure
was my entire world, bringing my dreams to fruition. I had to admit, though,
that I was getting deliriously anxious to taste the naked lips of the labia.
Satin had even more of a synthetic taste to it than spandex, and I so
desperately wanted to feast upon the pure, untainted ambrosia of her juices.

"Yesss!"

"Unnngggh!"

As she shrieked in passion, overcome by her second orgasm in a matter of
minutes, I moaned in wonder as the force of her climax sent a spray of
ambrosia right through her panties. That, of course, just had me lapping and
licking away even more frantically than before, drawing out her orgasm until
we both collapsed, panting with the exertion.

"One . . . one more," she gasped a while later. She slowly slid herself off
my face, dragging her pantied-crotch against my tongue. As my sweat-drenched
face emerged from its musky prison, I found myself staring up into a smile
of dominant bliss. "Make room for your Goddess, my slut." Bestowing a quick,
passionate kiss upon me, she said, "This time I think I'll lie down and let
you focus upon the task at hand."

"Certainly, my Goddess." I rolled awkwardly off the stone couch and let her
take my place. Then, crawling back up between her legs, I carefully took the
crotch of her panties between my lips and began worrying them away from her
steaming pussy with a gentle shaking of my head. Once they were free, I made
an elaborate show of sucking them dry, which brought forth an amused smile
from my Goddess that aroused me even further.

For the concluding chapter of her orgasmic trilogy, I came in soft and slow,
taking my time in bringing her to the brink once again. To begin with, I
licked my way up each of her smooth, hairless thighs, themselves deliciously
salty with her sweat. Next, I bestowed a hundred tiny kisses upon her
swollen, pink labia, starting to one side of her clit and working my way
around to the other. Encouraged by her moans of pleasure, I kissed my way
around the circle again, only this time I ended by taking her engorged clit
between my lips.

"Suck my clit, tanya," she whispered. "Be my pretty little slut and suck it
like the tiny cock that - oh! - that it is . . ."

I smiled into her pussy, already way ahead of her wishes. I held her
gorgeous clit between my lips as I flicked it with my tongue, pausing only
to nibble upon it with the utmost care before once again ambushing it with
my tongue. By now the juices were pouring from inside her glorious hole,
pooling between her legs like some divine spring. Later, I'd lap up that
mess like the pussycat that I was, but for now it would have to flow
unabated, if not unappreciated.

"Enough . . . enough of that, my slut." Her head tossed back, her eyes
closed tight, and her teeth clenched shut, she hissed at me in desire. "It's
time for you to stick . . . to stick . . . to stick out that talented tongue
for me." As her hand came down upon the back of my head to pull me close, I
could actually feel it tremble. "F-F-Fuck . . . fuck with your face, my
slut. Fuck . . . me . . . now!"

Taking one brief, deep breath, I slammed my face into the red valley of her
pussy and stuck my tongue as deep as it would go. My gawd, it was the most
incredible sensation imaginable! She was so hot, so moist, and so
wonderfully delicious I almost hoped she'd remain on the brink of orgasm
forever. My tongue was lapping at the walls of her vagina, coaxing out a
virtual flood of cum that had no chance of escaping the vacuum of my mouth.
I could actually feel the climax building inside her, and when it came . . .
I just continued to feast and feast and feast and feast and . . .

<>

Afterwards, my Goddess and I lay together upon the stone couch, snuggling
beneath the warm Spring sun. There was just enough of a breeze coming off
the river to make our nipples hard, but that just gave us extra reason to be
rub up against one another.

One arm wrapped around her back, my palm idly stroking her right breast, I
reached down with the other to grab out water bottles. Inside my Goddess'
insulated silver sleeve was a bottle of Coke, her one and only vice. She
didn't smoke, she didn't drink, and she rarely touched coffee or tea.
Instead, she preferred to treat herself with a cold bottle of Coke - never a
can. Inside my smaller pink sleeve, of course, was the hormone-laced sports
drink that she had prepared for me earlier that morning.

I waited for her to enjoy a long swallow before taking a sip of my own.
"Goddess?" Taking another sip, I looked up into her beautiful eyes and
paused. There was something I wanted desperately to ask her, but I wasn't
sure how she'd react. On the one hand, I couldn't imagine a more perfect
moment for such a discussion. But, on the other hand, I didn't know if she'd
ever really want to talk about it. "I . . . I don't wish to ruin what has
been a wonderful afternoon," I began, "so please stop me if I'm out of line,
but . . . well, may I ask-" I gave the water bottle a shake "-about her?"

She just stared at me for a few long minutes, making me think I'd gone too
far, pushed a boundary that I had no right trying to cross. I was waiting
for her to toss me on the ground, or slap me for my ignorance, but instead
she placed the water bottle down beside herself and sighed. "Yes," she said
softly, "it's fitting - I think she would have liked your little slice of
paradise."

Motioning for me to lay my head upon her breast, my Goddess took me in her
arms and held me close. I could tell she was preparing herself for something
difficult, and I started to wonder once again if I had any right to ask.
Before I could offer to change the subject, though, she began . . .

<>

"My mother left me when I was very young. I think I was maybe five or six, I
don't really remember. All I know is that I was far too young to be without
a mother. The last memory I have of her isn't much at all - the scent of
lavender, the sensation of soft hair tickling my cheek, and the light brush
of her lips against my forehead. For all I know, I dreamt that kiss, but I'm
almost certain the rest of it is real. Almost.

I spent the next seven years bouncing between one orphanage after another.
It seemed like whenever I started to feel comfortable in one, they'd ship me
off to another. Oh, there were several brief stops in different foster homes
along the way, but they only took me in long enough to break my heart and
send me on my way. After a while, I even gave up on trying to run away when
I realised there was nowhere to which I could really run.

As you might expect, I learned to become a very cold, unfeeling, sullen,
bitch of a lonely child. It wasn't worth caring about anyone or anything,
because that just meant they could hurt you by taking it a way. Friends were
a joke - kids came and went before you even learned their names - and all I
had of my family was the memory of a kiss I'm not even sure was real. Of
course, when you denied anybody the power to hurt your feelings, that just
led to other problems.

The first time I got the shit beat out of me, I crawled into the attic and
cried myself to sleep. It was over a week before the bruises and black eye
began to heal, but emotionally, the damage was done. The second time it
happened, I crawled under the back porch and cried through the night. I didn
't find out until the next afternoon that I'd broken my arm, but at least it
earned me an overnight stay in the safety of the hospital.

As it turned out, that broken arm probably saved my life. It had been a
clean break, so I ended up needing a great deal of therapy once it healed.
Of course, there was no way the orphanage was going to pay for a physical
therapist, so they simply gave me the keys to the gym and told me to take
care of myself.

Like I hadn't already been doing that most my life.

Anyway, the boys took my presence in the gym as some kind of threat to their
masculinity, so they did their best to make me feel unwelcome. At first, it
was just taunts, teasing, name-calling, and petty little things like
stealing my clothes or sabotaging my equipment. Fortunately, by that time I'
d already learned not to care, so I just ignored their childish antics. Of
course, that just made the boys feel even more threatened, which led to . .
. 'the incident.'

I don't remember what day it was, but it was after lights-out and I was
working out alone - or so I'd thought. They must have used the sharp sound
of crashing weights to cover their approach, because by the time I heard the
footsteps behind me, it was too late. Suddenly, I felt a thick leather belt
come down upon my throat, strangling my cries as the cowardly bastard held
me in place for his friends. While I was busy struggling against him,
another of the assholes jumped down between my legs, making sure I had no
chance to close them.

I was terrified, and honestly didn't think I'd survive to tell anybody about
it. When they started fondling my pre-pubescent tits, I just bit my lip and
sobbed silently. As much as I wanted to think they were just trying to scare
me, I knew they weren't going to stop there. When the ringleader began
tearing off my shorts, though, something snapped inside of me. Feeling a
surge of adrenaline rush through me, I brought my knee up into his balls
with enough force to lift him off his feet. That seemed to surprise the shit
out of his friends, and I took full advantage of the moment.

I honestly don't remember what happened next, other than a blurred rush of
images that I can never quite focus upon on. When it was all over, though, I
'd mangled one of their hands in the old machine; blinded another with my
handheld, 'girlie' barbells; shattered the shin of another with my 'dyke'
boots; and pretty much ruined any chance their ringleader had of ever
fathering children. Of course, since he was the bastard who had broken my
arm in the first place, it seemed somewhat fitting.

Before the morning arrived, I was shipped off to yet another orphanage, this
time three towns away. It was there that I honed my tomboy persona to
perfection, denying myself every feminine feeling or instinct in order to
survive. I was a chilling little monster, somebody the other kids learned
very quickly to avoid -- and I hated myself for it every single day. I didn'
t want to be like that, but if it was the only way I could survive . . ."

<>

When she paused to take another long swallow of Coke, I hugged her tight and
planted a soft, tender kiss on her breast. There was nothing I could really
say, but I sensed words weren't really necessary. Besides, her tale was only
half over, and I didn't want to intrude upon her moment.

<>

"It was the eve of my thirteenth birthday when she showed up. When I was
called up to the front office, all I saw was a short, plump, blonde,
forty-year-old stranger. I had absolutely no idea who she was, no memory of
having ever seen her before, and no desire to get to know her. And, when
they told me why she'd come, that's exactly what I told them. As far as I
was concerned, she was just another bitch who'd offer me a glimmer of hope,
then turn me away and break what was left of my cold little heart.

She claimed to be my Aunt, and flashed a bunch of pictures that were
supposedly of herself and my mother to prove it. Of course, I couldn't even
remember my mother's name, much less what she looked like, so all I could do
was look at the photos and shrug. My supposed baby photos were even less
helpful, but there was one particular shot that caught my attention. It
showed a woman laying on a hospital gurney with a baby in her arms, and
another woman holding her hand. Again, they were all meaningless figures to
me, but what caught my eye was the stuffed pink cat under the second woman's
arm. I'd had one just like it when I was younger, and had cried for weeks
when it got left behind during one of my many transfers from one orphanage
to another.

To this day, I don't know if she really was my Aunt or not, but the fact
that I recognised the cat was enough for my keepers. The orphanage was in
financial difficulty, and was probably going to ship us all out before the
end of the year anyway, so if they could get rid of me early . . . why not?
Telling me to be good for my Auntie, they gave me half an hour to pack my
things, say my goodbyes, and get out.

Less than ten minutes later, we were in her car and on the road."

<>

This time when she paused, I inched my way up until my head was resting in
the crook of her shoulder. From there, I could see that my Goddess seemed to
be under some kind of spell as she gazed out over the water, her eyes bright
and unblinking. The process of lifting the water bottle to her lips was
automatic, like something her body sensed was needed, but to which she gave
no thought. Slowly, I lifted one trembling hand to brush a stray copper curl
from her forehead, but even that didn't seem to register.

I wanted so much to say something comforting, but I was afraid of intruding
upon the moment. Although it had been my question that started it all, I was
starting to realise that these painful memories weren't for my benefit at
all. Instead, they were a form of emotional healing, a form of closure on a
part of her life that seemed so different from the woman I knew today.

With the bottle halfway to her lips, she suddenly began again.

<>

"You'll forgive me for not going into detail about the years that followed,
but they are . . . difficult memories for me. For the most part, they were
the sweetest, most delightful, most wonderful, and most rewarding of my
life. In a way, they were the fulfilment of that half-remembered childhood
kiss, a gift from the mother I never knew. Maybe Lydia really was my Aunt.
Then again, maybe she was just an opportunistic stranger with a taste for
innocent female flesh. To be perfectly honest, I never asked, and I don't
care to ever find out.

Our first six months together were absolutely brutal on both of us. She did
everything in her power to show me she really cared, and I did everything in
mine to show that I didn't. How she ever put up with me, I'll never know,
but she just accepted my spiteful slings and arrows with the smiling grace
of a true Goddess. To be honest, that loving pacifism drove me insane with
frustration. Try as I might, I couldn't make her hate me.

Then, one unforgettable night, I pushed her too far. I will not repeat what
I said - those words will never, ever pass my lips again - but she slapped
me for the offence. The slap itself was barely hard enough for me to feel it
through my thick skin. No, the true sting came when I saw the tears it
brought to her eyes. It was then that I realised somebody might actually
care . . . and the implications of that terrified me.

Over the course of the next year she slowly wore down my defences, stripping
me of the boundaries and walls I'd worked so hard to build. We started with
an uneasy stalemate, and gradually progressed through acceptance, and then
honest attachment. I still couldn't bring myself to call her my Aunt, but I
. . . I allowed myself to learn her name. For the first time in years I
addressed another human being by their first name, rather than Sir, or Ma'
am, or Hey You.

For me, that was a huge leap of trust.

Like I said, I won't go into details, but from there our relationship
blossomed into something extraordinary. Once she had taught me to care,
teaching me to love came easy. And, once I'd learned to untangle the barbed
wire from around my heart, falling in love . . . well, it came naturally.

Ironically, it wasn't until we entered the next stage of our relationship
that I finally found the courage to call her my Aunt. Almost two years to
the day after becoming lovers, she introduced me to the world of dominance
and submission. At first, I was terrified by the whole concept, for it
brought back far too many memories of my uncaring, bitch of a tomboy, years.
Together we'd worked so hard to help me shed that persona, to help me
reclaim the femininity it had hurt so much to lose, and I felt like she was
wanting me to take a step backwards.

Instead, she taught me how to be complete . . . how to be a total woman . .
. and, most importantly, how to protect that which was most precious to my
self-esteem."

<>

"You . . . you must have loved her very much." Now that I'd begun to
recognise the parallels to our relationship, I simply couldn't remain silent
any longer. For the first time in our relationship, I truly felt like I
could give something back to her, and that delighted me. "I think I
understand much of what you must have felt towards her, my Goddess. Yours
was the kind of relationship that comes around only once in a lifetime, and
I think she must have recognised that from the start. Whether the biology
backs it up or not, she was your Auntie, spiritually as well as emotionally,
and that's all that matters."

"My, but you are a perceptive little slut." As the familiar smile returned
to her lips, she placed her fingers beneath my chin and pulled me towards
her. "I was right - she would have loved this, just as she would have loved
you." With that, she placed her lips to mine and engaged me in our first
real kiss. No simple brushing of lips, this was as much as kiss of affection
as it was of passion.

Eventually, she released my tongue from the gentle clench of her teeth, and
actually laughed as I jumped forward to lick the tip of her nose. Gently
shaking her head, she wrapped me in a tender hug and sighed softly. "Now,"
she whispered sombrely, "you must let me finish."

<>

"During the last three years of her life, she spent almost as much time in
the hospital as in our bed. First it was a mastectomy that devastated us
both, a hysterectomy that seemed almost anti-climactic, menopause - which
seemed totally unnecessary by that point - and finally a heart attack
followed so closely by a stroke, the doctors never were quite sure which
came first.

Between the chemotherapy treatments, the painkillers, the antibiotics, and
the hormone replacement therapy, I'm not sure how much of her was really her
by the end. It seemed like every time the doctors took something away, they
replaced it with something that was never hers to begin with. Of course, we
liked to brighten the darkest days with talk of how love was truly all she
needed, but . . . well, at least she passed away with a smile.

Before she left me, though, she made me promise not to forget all she had
taught me. Secretly, I had already decided that I would never let myself
care for anyone again, but she saw right through me. Even as I wiped the
bloody spittle from her lips, she demanded I honour her memory by seeking
out another lost soul and doing for . . . doing for you what she had done
for me."

<>

It took a moment for that to sink in, but as the reality hit me I felt tears
begin rolling down my cheeks. They were tears of profound sorrow, unbridled
joy, deepest gratitude, and fawning admiration all at once. Speechless, I
just looked up into my Goddess' eyes -- and found such total understanding
and compassion there that I knew I would belong to her always.

Softly, gently, she kissed the tears from my eyes until I could match her
smile with one of my own. "Auntie would have adored you, tanya. I don't know
how she knew, but when she made me promise to honour her memory, you must
have been precisely who she had in mind."

"Do . . . do you really think so, Goddess?"

She nodded. "Of course. Why else would she have had all her prescriptions
made out in my name?"

<>

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