Date: Mon, 17 Jan 2000 21:36:44 -0800 (PST)
From: Michelle X
Subject: Stephanie

STEPHANIE
by Michelle X.

 Hello.  My name is Melissa.  I have an unusual hobby.  I turn men into
women.

Yes, you read that correctly.  I turn men into women.  And I don't mean
helping men get dressed up as a woman for a costume party or something like
that.  I take unsuspecting men and actually turn them into complete females.
By the time I'm done with a guy, I'll will have placed him in such a position
that he lives his entire life as a woman and can do nothing about it.  In fact,
you've probably seen dozen of beautiful women walking down the street
today who were once men.  That's right ... those petite women with the short
skirt and high heels who were macho big-shot men, are now nothing more
than mere secretaries and receptionists, walking home to cook dinner for their
boyfriends and husbands.

I'd like to tell you about my first successful feminization.  It had happened
just a few months after I had graduated from college.  I had been dating this
guy, Steve, for a few months, and he had just graduated as well.  Steve was
your typical macho jerk ... he had been in one of the jock fraternities and had
had his way with several sorority girls.  He thought he was God's gift to
women.

I had thought the same thing when I had started dating him.  But soon
afterward, I had chatted with some radical feminists in a chat room on the
Internet who made me rethink my entire way of thinking.  At first, I was
about to dump Steve, when I stumbled upon some sites about feminization.  I
knew most of it was fiction, but then I thought to myself, "Why couldn't it be
done?"  I decided that Steve would be my first opportunity to try it out.

It wasn't very hard to devise a scheme.  Because Steve had spent so much
time fooling around with his frat buddies in college, he had poor grades and
no good references, which had made it impossible for him to find a job.
Because his parents refused to support him, he was living with me rent-free.

I decided to give him an ultimatum ... to get a job in a week, or else I would
dump him.  He panicked, started calling around, but for 5 days he couldn't
get an employer to even consider him.

Now came the rest of my plan.  I told Steve a slightly older friend named
Sheila who owned her own successful, medium-sized firm.  I added how
Sheila mentioned that some of here managers were looking for some
secretaries, and that perhaps I could get her to hire Steve.

"There's no way I'm going to be a secretary!" said Steve.  "That's a
woman's job!"

I replied that there are many male secretaries and that being a secretary would
be nothing to be ashamed of.  Besides, I added, he would have to take it if he
wanted to stay with me.  Steve, knowing that he had no other option, agreed
to an interview.  I told him that simply arriving at the interview would get him
the job.

Steve's interview was to be with one of the managers at the company in two
days.  Then I sprang the trap.  The day before his interview, I told him that
Sheila had called me with some bad news.  Because of affirmative action, she
could not currently hire any more male employees.  Only a female could get
the job.  I told Steve to start looking for a new apartment and a new
girlfriend.

"Can't you pull any strings?" Steve begged.  "After all, Sheila is your
friend."

"Laws are laws," I replied.  "I don't see any way out of this
situation^Ðunless^Ð"

"What?"

"I have a great idea.  It may sound kind of silly, but listen to me, if you don't
want me to dump you.  Why don't you apply for the job as a woman?"

"Dress as a woman!" he shouted.  "No way!  I'm no fag!  I'm all man.
There's no way I would want to or be able to do that!"

"Well, desperate times call for desperate measures.  Right now, you have no
job, and you're a day away from losing your home and your girlfriend.
You're not exactly the one to be calling the shots here.  Besides, I have my
friend Amanda who's a beautician and makeup artist.  I'm sure she can make
you look like a fairly decent woman."

Steve still adamantly refused.

I persisted.  "Look ... it's not like the secretary thing was going to be
permanent anyway.  All you have to do is work there for a while until you
can find a better job.  Who knows, it might only be a week or two."

Then came the clincher.  "Steve, I love you so much!  I can't believe that you
would put your macho ego before me.  Please, will you do it for me?  It's
just for a short while."

Steve very reluctantly agreed.  With that "yes," I then knew that I had cleared
the major hurdle in his feminization.  I knew it would only be a matter of time
before he would be a total woman.

We only had a short time to get him ready for the interview, which was the
following afternoon.  The morning of the interview, I had my friend Amanda
come over to fix him up.  She first did his hair.  Thankfully, his hair was
somewhat long, so she gave him a feminine cut.  Amanda made some more
feminizing changes, including piercing his ears and narrowing his eyebrows.
Steve freaked out about everything.

"Wait!" he said.  "Why are you cutting my hair like this?  My eyebrows make
me look like a woman!  What happens when I want to go back to being a
man?  I can't walk out like this?"

We pretty much ignored him, telling him we would deal with that when we
got to that point.  That just made him more nervous.  I just loved seeing him
so scared.

Then we had to get him dressed for the interview.  Amanda had already
bought some clothes that would fit Steve.  We took him to the bedroom, and
told him that all his clothes were on his bed.

He complained about everything:  "Do I have to wear high heels!  Why can't
I wear flats?"  "Why do I have to wear a bra?  I have no breasts!"  "Did you
have to pick out a blouse that was so frilly?"

We explained to him that we had to do everything to make him look as
feminine as possible so that he wouldn't be seen as a man.  "You've got to
stop seeing yourself as a macho stud!" I snapped.  "You're a woman now, so
you'd better start acting like one!"

That last statement really freaked him out, and the rest of the time he was
quiet.  He emerged from the bedroom looking the quintessential career
woman, dressed in a brown suit with matching pumps, a cream-colored
blouse, and an appropriate amount of jewelry.  As we put his makeup on, we
coached him on all the feminine mannerisms.  I could tell that it was very
embarrassing for him to have to practice them.

Soon it was time for his interview, I volunteered to drive him there.  Before
we left, I gave him a new purse filled with extra makeup for touch-ups.
"Why do I need this?" he asked.

"Silly ... all women carry purses.  Why do you think you should be any
exception?  You're going to need one if you're going to work as a woman.
You'll find that you'll need to fix your makeup or your nail polish throughout
the day, so it's always good to have some on hand.

Steve remarked that he didn't like the idea of having to fuss with makeup all
the time.  I told him that it was all part of being a woman.  All other women
get used to it, so should he.  I told him I was actually kind of glad that he had
to do this ... I said that it would teach him about how hard it is to be a woman.
I said that I was finally glad that he was being put in his place.  He seemed
very taken aback by this.

I waited in the car while Steve went for the interview.  He interviewed with
one of the managers named Greg, who would be Steve's boss if he were
hired.  In an hour, Steve returned with a half smile.  He came back with good
news ... at least for me ... the next day he would be starting work as a secretary
named Stephanie.

I acted excited about the news.  Steve seemed less than thrilled about the fact
that he would not be wearing skirts and pantyhose to work every day.  I told
him that I would take him out to dinner to celebrate.  But first we had to go to
the mall to buy him a new wardrobe for work.

We bought an assorted array of blouses, women's suits, bras, dresses,
skirts, pantyhose, and high heels.  Steve was protesting right and left, and I
had a response for every complaint he made.

"Why do we have to buy so many clothes if I'm not going to be wearing
them for long?"

"You're going to need a complete wardrobe.  Women don't wear the same
thing every day.  Besides, if you don't get another job, you'll be wearing
these longer than you think."  He appeared nervous.

"Why high heels?  I hate walking in high heels."

"Don't worry, you'll get used to them.  All women do.  Besides, you'll have
plenty of time to practice."  He was scared.

"Can't I get really long skirts.  It's hard to walk normally in such short
skirts."

"Yes, you'll notice that the skirts make your movements more feminine.
Don't worry, you'll lose your masculine mannerisms in no time.  Plus, they
show off your great legs.  You'll have all the guys staring at you whenever
you walk by."  Now he was downright frightened.

After we were done, we drove to the restaurant for dinner.  Amanda had met
us there to pick up all the clothes so that she could start putting them away
back at the apartment.  Steve asked why we couldn't go home so that he
could change into men's clothing.

"Why?" I asked.  "Now that you'll be working as Stephanie, you'll need all
the opportunities you can get to be a woman.  The less time you spend as a
man, the better!"

So, the two of us went off to a nice relaxing dinner ... at least for me.  Steve
really appeared anxious to get home.  When we got back to the apartment,
Amanda was there, waiting for us to come back.

As soon as he got in the door, Steve said, "Thank God I'm home!  I can't
wait to get back into my normal clothes."  He went back to his room, and
noticed that his drawers and closet were filled with his new wardrobe.
"Melissa, where are my old clothes?" I asked.

Amanda replied, "I packed them all up and took them to Goodwill."  Steve
had the most frightened look on his face.

"What on earth are you going to do with your old clothes?" I asked.  "With
your feminine hairstyle, painted nails, and earrings, do you really think you
can go out dressed as a man?  You can't be a woman in the morning and a
man in the night and on the weekends?  What would people think?  For now,
the only clothes you need are the ones we bought."

Steve seemed downright panicked.  He rushed back to his room, rustling
through his drawers and closets, looking for even one piece of male clothing,
one last vestige of his masculinity.  It was all in vain.  In the drawer which
once held his boxers and his sweatsocks, now there were pantyhose and
bras.  His shoe rack, instead of containing men's tennis shoes, now held a
colorful array of women's pumps.  His closet was now filled with blouses,
skirts, and dresses, instead of suits, shirts, and slacks.  He stood there,
helpless, in his skirt and high heels.  I could tell he felt totally broken. I told
him that he should get to bed, because he had to start getting up earlier.  He
didn't really like the fact that he would have to get up an hour earlier just to
put makeup on.

The first morning, I helped him put on his makeup and pick out and outfit.
But I reminded him that he would have to start learning these things on his
own.  I told him that I had bought him some women's fashion magazines so
that he could learn all the basics.  For that day, I had him wear a tan suit with
a white blouse, with tan pantyhose and shoes.  When he was done, he looked
like a secretary in the making.

Steve was about to make his normal big breakfast, when I stopped him.  I
reminded him that it's not normal for a woman to eat large portions like he
was used to.  Besides, he needed to lose weight to gain a more petite figure.
I told him that he could only have a half a grapefruit and a piece of toast for
breakfast.  I then gave him his lunch, which was just a small salad and a
bottle of mineral water.  He was very sad at this development.  "You have to
watch your womanly figure," I reminded him.

I then dropped him off at work, and agreed to pick him up at five.  He
appeared nervous, but given that he really had no other option, he went to
work as his first day as a secretary.

I picked him up at five as promised, and asked him how his day was.  He
looked as if he were about to cry.

"Melissa, I hate being a woman!" he cried.  "It was awful."

I told him to start from the beginning and tell me everything.  All he did was
complain, complain, complain.  I purposely didn't show any sympathy.

"I can't stand all the men there," he said.  "All they did was stare at me and
try to hit on me.  There's this one salesman named Jim, he sat down next to
me and started rubbing my leg.  It's awful.  And in this getup, I feel so
vulnerable."

"Well," I said, "you were always one to say that women should dress sexy.
You were the one who always tried to seduce vulnerable women.  How does
it feel now that the tables are turned?  Men in America think that they have the
right to treat any woman like a sex object.  And that's what you are now, a
sex object.  It's not going to stop, and there's nothing you can do about it.
You just have to accept it."

"And Greg is the worst," Steve said.  He treats me like nothing more than a
bimbo.  All I do is mindless work ... answering calls, getting coffee for him
and his friends."

"Well, most secretaries are bimbos," I replied.  "If they were smart, they
would certainly be in a better job.  That's what happened to you, isn't it?
Right now you're nothing more than a dumb broad."

"And these clothes are killing me," he continued.  "My feet ache so bad from
walking around in heels all day.  The pantyhose and skirt make me feel so
constrained."

"That's another part of being a woman," I explained.  "Women dress this
way for the approval of men.  You're going to have to learn that everything
you do now is for the approval of these sex-hungry men.  How does it feel
that that you're the one in the heels and skirt?"

Eventually Steve realized that he was getting nowhere with me, and he shut
up.  I restarted the conversation again when we got home.

"You know, now that you're living as a woman, I think you should start
doing some of the woman's chores around here:  cooking, doing dishes,
ironing, washing clothes, cleaning.  It really wouldn't be appropriate for you
to do any men's chores."

"But what about all the plumbing and auto repair?" Steve asked.

"I'll just find some man to do it," I replied.  He looked even more sad.

After dinner, I told him that I had another friend, a computer hacker, could
change all his records to reflect his new gender.  I explained that this would
be necessary in case anyone at work ever tried to look up his past.  So now
all his school records, his medical records, his financial records, all said
Stephanie Smith instead of Steve Smith.  We also obtained new credit cards
and ID with his new name.  For all practical purposes, it was now as if Steve
Smith had never existed.

The rest of the night, I had him read his fashion magazines so that he could
learn how to get himself beautiful in the mornings.  He whined that he
wanted to watch the football game on TV, but I refused to let him do so.  His
reading paid off.  The following morning he picked out an attractive gray suit
to wear, with black pumps and pantyhose.  His makeup job wasn't stellar,
but it was adequate.

Before we left, Steve asked me to get him the sports section to read during
lunch.  I refused, telling him people might suspect something if he were seen
reading that.  Instead, I handed him a romance novel, which greatly
disappointed him.

At the end of his second day, Steve made the same complaints he made
yesterday.  He was especially annoyed at the salesman Jim, who kept on
hitting on him.  Apparently, he was touching Steve even more today.  He
even said that when Jim brushed up against him, he could feel his hard-on.
Again I told Steve that he would just have to accept it, that it was just part of
life as a woman.

Things more or less quieted down over the next few weeks, and Steve more
or less got into a routine, even though he didn't like it very much.  I told him
that during my lunch breaks I would help him out by mailing his resume to
potential employers ... of course, I never did that.

Soon, an entire month had passed by, and that entire time Steve had been
living as Stephanie, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.  At one point, Steve
asked me why it was taking so long for him to get a job.  "After all," he said,
"you said this would probably be a week or two."  I reassured him that
something would come soon enough.

Then one month turned into two, and he was still stuck as Stephanie the
secretary.  In that time, I had noticed that he had become increasingly
feminine.  His diet was only about 1,000 calories a day, so he was becoming
all the more petite.  And because he stopped doing his weight training, his
muscle mass was dropping rapidly, and he was becoming progressively
weaker.  I noticed that at one point, he needed my help in carrying a heavy
box.  He was really embarrassed to see that I could lift it all by myself.

It also became custom for him to read beauty magazines and romance novels.
I had canceled the subscriptions to his sports magazines, because I told him it
would look funny for a woman to be receiving those magazines.  Instead, I
forced him to subscribe to several women's fashion magazines.  At first, he
never touched them, but then he started reading them, as well as the romance
novels.  He said that he had to because he got so bored during his breaks.

Two months then became half a year, and nothing changed.  Every once in a
while he whined about why no one else wanted him for a job, and I reminded
him that he should expect that given how much he fooled around in college.
Eventually these complaints became less and less frequent, as he seemed
more and more resigned to his inevitable fate.

One day around that time, he came home looking shocked.  He told he that
his boss wanted him to start taking on a new responsibility ... being an escort
for male clients.  Greg had told him that all the other female employees had
done it, and that it would be expected it of him.  Even though nothing sexual
was required of these dates, Steve was still repulsed by the idea.

"Well," I said, "you've been living as a woman for half a year now, you kind
of had to expect that this would happen at some point.  Did you really think
you go on without ever dating men?"

Since Steve's feminization, I had been dating other men, which he had agreed
to.  I told him that if I should be able to date, why not he?  He protested that
he wasn't gay and didn't want this at all.  "Who says you're gay?" I said.
"You're a woman, now, and it's totally normal for women to date men.
Besides, your job is depending on it, so you really have no choice."

The next day, Steve told his boss that he would be willing to date male
clients.  That night he was scheduled to go to dinner with a man named Jeff,
a young hotshot businessman who could give the company a lot of business.
Steve was told to be extra-nice to Jeff.

When Steve got home that night (after midnight), I was amused when I saw
him.  His hair, makeup, and clothes were all messed up, and he had a hickey
on his neck.

"You're completely right about men!" he said.  "They're nothing but sex
animals.  The whole night he just kept ogling my body, and treated me like a
sex object!"  I asked him to explain what had happened.

"As soon as we met, he couldn't take his hands off me," Steve said.  He was
always doing something, like holding my hand, putting his arm around me,
or feeling my leg.  After dinner, he took me to his home, which made me
nervous, but had little choice given that he was such an important client."

"Go on," I said.

"When we got back, he lit a fire, and we sat there drinking wine.  He held me
close to his body, and I could feel his hard-on.  I tried to push away gently,
but be just pulled me in harder.  Eventually, he started kissing me.  He just
shoved his tongue all the day down my throat.  I tried to push it out, but he
just kept on forcing be back in.  Then he got on top of me, and we started
making out some more.  I tried to push him off, but he was so much stronger
than I was.  All I could do was just lie there helpless as he was pawing me.
That pretty much went on for an hour.  Then he drove me home, kissed me
good night, and left."

"Well, hopefully he at least was good looking," I said.  "I hear this Jeff guy
is pretty good looking, a real hunk!  Was he?"

"How the hell should I know?" Steve said.  " I don't like guys!"

"Stephanie," I explained, "this won't be the last time you'll be doing
something like this.  If a man is going to force himself upon you, it might as
well be a good-looking guy.  What did he look like?"

Steve said that Jeff was 30 years old, with dark hair, and chiseled features.
He was 6'3, and was wearing a dark suit that still showed off his muscular
body.  Steve mentioned how emasculated he felt by being with someone that
was so masculine.

"What's worse," he said, "Jeff asked me on another date.  And I had to say
yes, because he's such an important client."

I reassured him, telling him that it would get better, and that he might even
learn to like men.  I also explained to him how the women must play the
submissive role in the sexual relationship.  "Before this," I told him, "you
were always the one with all the control, all the power.  Now that the coin is
flipped, you have to change your attitude.  You have no control now!  The
man has all the power.  You have to learn to give in to a man's demands."
That didn't make Steve too happy.

So in the next few months, Steve went on a few more dates with Jeff.  He
replied that dating a man was getting slightly more tolerable, yet it still wasn't
something he wanted to be doing.

He also remarked that Jeff was being a lot more considerate, even romantic.
Steve was scared that Jeff might be doing so because he was interested in a
long-term relationship.  That really seemed to scare Steve.

I knew that I had to do one more thing to completely finalize Steve's
feminization.  I finally began sending out Steve's resumes, except for one
small change ... I sent them out with Stephanie's name.  In just a week,
Stephanie received a phone call saying that was marketing firm was very
interested in offering her a well-paying job.

When Steve got home that day, I told him about the phone call.  At first he
was happy, but then he realized that he would have to apply for the job as
Stephanie.  "Wasn't the whole point of dressing as a woman so that I could
one day go to work as a man?  How can I do that now?  I don't have any
male clothing, and my entire work history is as a woman!"

I encouraged him to go for the job.  "Isn't this the kind of job you've always
wanted?" I asked him.  "Sure you have to remain a woman, but it's certainly
better than being a secretary, right?"

He reluctantly applied for the job, and he got it.  He wasn't thrilled with
remaining as a woman, but he was happier at having a better job.

Now came the clincher.  When he told me about the new job, I said, "Steve, I
think we have to break the relationship off.  I want you out of my apartment
and out of my life.  I need to be with a real man."

"Give it time," he said.  "Soon I'll go back to being a man."

"How can you?" I said.  "What happens when you apply for the next job
after this?  You'll still have to apply as a woman, never as a man.  What if
you like the job you just got?   If you stay at the company, you can't just
switch to being a man at some point!  Face it ... you're going to have to live as
a woman for the rest of your life!"

Steve was shocked when I said that.  He had never considered what I just
said, but he knew it was all true.  He was going to remain a woman, and
there was nothing he could do about it.

I told him I was going out for the day and that I wanted him out by the end of
the day.  When I returned home, I saw here there with Jeff carrying boxes to
his car.  Steve explained that because he couldn't find an apartment on such
short notice, he was going to move in with Jeff.  He didn't sound too happy
about that.

That was the last I had heard of Steve for about a year.  But then, out of the
blue, I bumped into him in Marshall Field's, where was shopping for some
new blouses.  He was dressed in a sharp tan suit with tan pantyhose and
heels.  He didn't seem too happy to see me.

I asked him how things were going.  He told me that the job was going well.
He mentioned that he was already made a manager and that he was seen as a
rising star in the company.  He said that he also received and award for
"Female Employee of the Year."

Steve also mentioned that he was still living with Jeff, and that they were
engaged.  He also mentioned that he had told Jeff about his previous life, and
that Jeff told him that he loved Stephanie just the same.

I told him that I was surprised that he was engaged, given how much he
didn't like dating men.  He replied, "I can tolerate dating men, but I'd really
rather prefer being with a woman.  However, being suspected as a lesbian
would jeopardize my career, so I've resigned myself to being with men.  I
guess if I have to be married to a man, it might as well be someone who's as
good-looking as Jeff is."

I wished Steve luck and left.  Just a minute later, I saw Jeff walk up to his
fiancee and give her a big kiss.  Steve wrapped his arms around his hunky
boyfriend and kissed back, and while doing so, he gave me a helpless look
out of the corner of his eye.  I just smiled back.

(the end)