textfiles/sex/EROTICA/A/alana.txt

Alana
by She-Devil

*****

     Alan looked himself over in the mirror carefully, picking a
bit of fluff or lint here and there from his tight, pink, angora
sweater dress.  The black patent belt around his waist was too wide
and tight and the black patent spikes on his feet were too tall for
him to ever think of walking very far.

     Alan combed a little more mousse through his ultra-short
champagne pink hair.  The punkish single finger of hair, tinted
from pink to lavender, hung at his nape down between his shoulder
blades.  His make up was perfect.  In the mirror, Alan was an
alluring, sexy woman - all except for the neat dark mustache `she'
wore.

     Getting some white wine from the fridge, he still couldn't
believe how he had gotten himself into this.  Trapped as a woman
with breasts, figure, and all!  And all over a stupid mustache.

     Before all this, Alan Ross was one of the up-and-comers on
Wall Street.  He made big money, had all the hot investments, was
definitely loaded.  Along the way he met Sheila, blonde and
beautiful, the perfect sort of female accessory for a soon-to-be
power broker in the big time money game.  Sheila moved in and made
herself useful.

     Sheila started to input Alan's transactions into the personal
computer in his study.  Then, she started to run his projections. 
Sheila handled his bills, his calls, his schedule.  With Sheila
doing the grunt work of his life, Alan did whatever he pleased.  He
certainly had the time.

     Christmas Day was Sheila's birthday and Alan had a pave
diamond bracelet from Tiffany's for her.  But Sheila seemed distant
and sullen.  Oh what the hell!  She's probably just starting her
period thought Alan.

     "Sheila, I got you something to show you just how much I
appreciate you and all you've done.  I wanted it to be something
really special and I hope you like it."

     Sheila ooed and aahhed but still she seemed not quite right.

     "What's up, Sheila?  You're not yourself.  Want to tell me
about it?"

     "I know it's silly, but there is something that I'd really
like.  It wouldn't cost a thing, but I know it would be asking a
lot of you."

     "So tell me what it is and maybe I can make it happen."

     "Would you shave off your moustache?  You see it really
bothers me.  I keep getting tickled by when we kiss and I don't
like the way it looks on you."

     No way!  Alan was well aware that at 5'6" and 135 pounds that
he was on the delicate side for a man by anyone's standards.  His 
moustache was part his `masculine' image, part of what made him one
of the boys. Sorry, but shaving it off was something he wouldn't do
for anybody.

     "Sheila, I love you, really I do but I don't think I can do
that.  I would look like a kid or a girl or something if I shaved
it off."

     "Dammit Alan!  If you loved me you'd do it.  I bet you'd
rather dress like a girl than shave that stupid thing off."

     Angry now, Alan retorted.  "If that's what you want to hear,
you're damn right!  I would.  I'd rather dress like a girl than
shave my moustache off."

     Sheila stormed out, sulking.  These arguments are a drag.  I
need to get her in line.  If she's going to start breaking my
balls, this bitch is history.  Alan stewed alone.

                            *********

     Sheila slipped out of bed.  Alan snored noisily and stirred as
she left but remained out of it.

     In the bathroom, Sheila pulled a small glass vial from behind
a picture.  Morphal X, the latest project at X Industries, where it
was referred to as M-X.  She knew the name came from the word
morphallaxis, meaning regeneration of a part or transformation of
one part into another by means of structural reorganization with
only limited production of new cells.  Sheila had paid a
fortune...well, Alan had, after all it was his money.. for this
stuff.  Still experimental and hard to find even on the black
market, it worked by taking up the fatty deposits and water buildup
in the body and redistributing all that mass to the hips and
breasts.  X Industries saw potential in it to replace, or as an
adjunct to, cosmetic surgery but hadn't dealt with the side effects
of rapid hair growth and loss of height.  How much to give Alan?

     The instructions said one cc for every twenty pounds.  After
his macho pig act tonight, Sheila wanted to make sure he got what
was coming to him.  The right dosage should have been 6.75 cc's,
but the needle capacity was 9 cc's, so that's what Sheila filled it
to.  A little spray anesthetic hid the prick of the ultra-fine
needle when Sheila slipped it into Alan's rear and he soon had the
powerful drug coursing through his body.

                            *********

     "Oh my God!  What's happened to me?"

     Alan was standing in front of a full length mirror by the time
Sheila got to his room.  Nice job that M-X did.  Alan was shorter
by at least two inches.  He had what looked like a fat pair of `C'
cup breasts and his hips were getting nice and wide.

     "Shut up, you little sissy!"

     Alan saw Sheila for the first time.  She was dressed head to
toe in black leather.  In her six inch heels, she towered over the
rapidly feminizing male.

     "Sheila, what did you do to me?"

     "I took you at your word.  You said you would rather look like
a girl than shave off your moustache.  Now, you do.  And a very
sexy girl, I must say."

     Sheila caught a handful of Alan's now shoulder length chestnut
hair and pulled him to his toes.

     "Let's get something straight from the beginning.  I'm a lot
stronger than you, I'm a lot smarter than you, and if you don't do
exactly as I say, I'll make your life hell."

     Too terrified to speak, Alan could only nod his submission. 
To his dismay, Sheila pulled box after box of woman's clothing from
the closets.  It was obvious that she'd been planning this for some
time.

"I have to make a few phone calls.  While I'm busy, I want you to
put all your new clothing away neatly and throw all your old men's
stuff in these boxes."  Alan was left in a daze as Sheila made her
way to the study.

     First, out came all the male clothes; suits, slacks, shirts,
and shoes.  In went dozens of pairs of sexy panties and bras.  The
bras seemed to run in sizes from 38C to 44D.  These were followed
by all sorts of frilly lingerie including tap panties, stockings,
and garter belts.  There were also several corsets that looked like
they would be very uncomfortable to wear.

     Then there were the dresses, skirts, blouses, and sweaters. 
And the shoes!  By the time Sheila returned, Alan had the bedroom
switched around as ordered.  Every stitch of male clothing was
boxed and ready to go.

     "Well now, Alana.  Oh yes, I've decided to call you Alana.  We
certainly can't call you Alan.   Here are the rules:  You are to
get up every morning at 6 A.M.  I want you dressed in your Maid's
Uniform, made up, and in the kitchen by seven.  At 7:30, you will
serve me breakfast in bed."

     "After I leave for work, you will change into whatever clothes
I have specified for you to wear that day.  From then, until noon,
you will clean the place from top to bottom, whether it's clean or
not."

     "At noon, you can eat the lunch I leave for you."

     "After lunch, you will change into your third outfit of the
day and watch soap operas and talk shows all afternoon.  I'll be
taping them so you had better pay attention.  I might just ask a
few questions.  God help you if you don't know the answers."

     "Just before I return home, you will change again and have a
drink ready for me.  After the dinner you will cook and serve,
another change of clothes for you and time to get all your changes
for the next day laid out, give yourself a beauty facial, and, of
course, care for your precious moustache."

     "See, that's the biggest joke of all.  You won't grow any more
facial hair, but you do have a little moustache problem, don't you? 
So many girls do.  Well, if your a very, very good girl and you beg
me every night before I put you to bed, I might let you have it
electrolysized off.'

     Alan looked at himself in the mirror.  Unbelievably, he hadn't
noticed.  His moustache was still there, ludicrous now on such a
feminine face.

     "Sheila.."  My God, he thought, even my voice is changing! 
"Sheila.  I'm begging you.  Let me shave it off.  I'll shave it off
right away and keep it off for good.  Just don't do this to me. 
I'll do anything you want..."

     Sheila cut off Alan's quivering plea.  "You'll do whatever i
say because I tell you to and you'll keep that moustache until I
decide to believe that you are sincere."

     "Now get dressed.  Someone's coming over, and I have plans for
you."

                            *********

     Alan's face was burning hot.  His hair had been washed and was
now being cut.  Cut really short, maybe a quarter of an inch long. 
The floor was covered with long brown hair.  One long lock of hair
was left to trail down his back, and Alan was forced to sit as a
thick white goo was worked into his hair.  After a few minutes, his
scalp was burning, but no one paid him the least attention. 
Finally, the hairdresser put his head back in the sink and rinsed
his hair thoroughly for nearly twenty minutes.  Now another lotion
was being rubbed in.  Alan couldn't see himself, they had covered
the mirrors.  When she came to the single lock down his back, she
seemed almost to be painting.  Rinsed again, now he could see what
had been done to him.

     His hair was pink and that tail was purple.  And so short! 
The hairdresser looked at Alan in his black spandex jumpsuit with
the big chrome industrial zipper running down between his legs and
snickered.

     "Listen, Dearie, I can't wait for you to overcome your little
moustache problem and come into my shop for a total beauty
treatment.  I'd love to help you stay pretty like this."

     This was part of Sheila's plan and Alan new it.  Even after
she had bonded the false pussy... Sheila called it a duralatex
vagiform...to cover his male genitals, Sheila had made sure that
the hairdresser knew exactly what was being done to him.

     Alan was setting out tomorrow's changes under Sheila's strict
eyes.  Six changes to plan for, with accessories and make up to
suit.  Looking at what was now laid out made him feel even more
sick and anxious.

     Alan had a hot, perfumed, bubble bath, followed by a mud mask
facial.  Sheila laced him into a wasp waisted corset that pushed
his breasts up high and compressed his waist substantially.  From
26 inches to 21, Alan felt cut in half.  But scarier was the fact
that the edges did not meet in back.  It was going to get worse.

     There were ankle boots with ballet toes and no heels that
locked his feet straight and stiff.  Satin mittens that buttoned up
to his elbows made his hands useless.  Finally, after rubbing skin
creams into his face, Sheila laced a lined satin helmet about his
head.  A rubber sponge filled his mouth.  He could breathe through
it but barely.  The mask made him blind, deaf, and dumb.

     Sheila arranged her subject on the bed, his big breasts
thrusting upwards nicely.  Using wide satin ribbons from D-rings at
his toes and hand pods, Sheila pulled Alan spread-eagle on the
black satin sheets.  The white satin of Alan's bondage contrasted
fabulously.  It was all going perfectly.

     Lastly, Sheila wheeled over a drip stand with a fat enema bag
hanging from it.  Into the bag she poured a powder and a big
pitcher of water.  `X Industries Destabilized Animal Fat', that's
just what this sissy needs, thought Sheila.  This stuff was reduced
to a ratio of sixteen to one so that one ounce equaled a pound of
fat.  Sheila added another drop of M-X to the mix and fixed a long
plastic tube from the bag to the white access tube jutting so
conveniently from Alan's mouth.

     So tomorrow, my little sissy will be ten pounds heavier, and
with the M-X, it will go to all the right places.  Sheila couldn't
help giggling to herself as she watched the treacherous fluid
beginning to drip into Alan's sponge gag.  He would have to drink
every drop just to breathe.  And in the morning, when all his
clothes are tight...maybe even too tight to get on!  Sheila found
herself laughing out loud and not ever wanting to stop.

                            *********

     Alan carried the tray carefully into Sheila's bedroom.  His
dress was much too tight to go quickly.  Thank God it was a
stretchy fabric.  At least he had been able to wiggle into it.  And
the way his breasts stuck out was really embarrassing.  They hadn't
looked this big last night.  A 38C bra hadn't fit this morning, and
now the 40D felt a little snug.

     "Good morning, Sheila.  Your breakfast is served."

     Sheila eyed her latest undertaking.  Look at the butt on this
one.  Alan had to be 40 inches across the hips and he was much more
busty now.  Alan couldn't keep the sway out of his hips now when he
walked, and his hobble skirt only served to accentuate his feminine
gait.  But then, there was that silly moustache.

     "Good morning, Alana.  How did you sleep?"

     Fearing some trick, Alan smiled.  "Very well, thank you."

     Alana, I don't want you calling me by name anymore.  Please
refer to me as Ma'am and, whenever I enter or leave a room, I'll
expect you to curtsey."

     "Yes, Ma'am."

     "And keep your eyes down.  Speak only when spoken to.  I want
to see your hands limp at your sides unless doing something at my
direction.  And stand with your back very straight and shoulders
back."

     Alan made the various adjustments as Sheila spoke.  Visibly
chastened, he docilely followed behind his Mistress as she
showered, dressed, and prepared to leave.

     At the door, Sheila stopped to give final instructions. 
"Alana, I want you to have this place immaculate when I return, or
I'll put you over my knee."

                            *********

     How could he clean dressed like this?  Alan put down the lame
stole that matched his long formal dress and polished the table. 
In two hours, he had put the entire downstairs right.  Lunch was a
tossed dry salad with diet soda.

Now he was settled in, dressed head to toe in clinging black
velvet, watching soap operas.  Would Sheila really tape them and
ask him questions about them?  This was getting out of hand, how to
escape?

     At dinner, Alan was a vision in blue taffeta and, after
dinner, a vixen in red satin.  After all his changes were set out,
and Alan was bathed, his routing changed.

     "Put this on."

     `This' was a black rubber girdle, heavily boned, with two hard
prongs built into the crotch.  Alan whimpered as first the longer
fatter one was inserted and then driven deep into his false vagina,
exciting his cock under it.  It was soon followed up his rear by
it's mate.  Alan laced up the girdle, pushing and pulling his
bottom into two perfect globes.  Then came the corset, the hand
pods, and the heel-less boots.  Was it the same corset?  It seemed
even narrower in the waist.  Helmeted and spread-eagled, Alan
couldn't see Sheila hook up another bag of forced fat feeding.  But
this time she added a few new goodies.

     Lactamorphonate-M.  A dangerous test hormone designed to
induce milk production in cows.  First tested in the dairy
industry, human females had been exposed by accident and found
their breasts converted to constantly flowing milk factories.

     A mild stimulant and aphrodisiac were blended in.  The tube
was hooked up and Sheila made sure that Alan was getting his
hormone milkshake.  Then she attached two wire leads to the plugs
filling Alan's holes.  The vibrations made Alan go rigid.  For the
rest of the night, at random intervals, Alan would have a vibrator
going in either his pussy, ass, or both.

     Sheila couldn't wait for tomorrow.

                            *********

     Alan tried to tell Sheila, but she wouldn't listen.  Those
things inside him had been vibrating.  They really had!  And now
his breasts were even bigger.  Only his 44D bras fit right now. 
His skirts still fit, but all his dresses and blouses were
ridiculously tight across the bust.  Looking at himself, in the
mirror, in his exercise leotard, Alan knew how foolish he looked. 
So sexy, with a man's moustache.

     Sheila wouldn't listen to him beg.  It was going to take going
through whatever she had planned for him, before he could remove
the moustache, and he was trapped for the duration.

     Why were his breasts growing so much?  What was Sheila up to? 
When this was over and he was back to normal, Alan was definitely
getting rid of Sheila.  She was too damn dangerous.

     Exercise leotard.  Nurse.  Ballerina.  Go-go girl.  Cocktail
dress. Today, it was all green and white.  Alan had given up on
trying to guess where Sheila was taking him.  Time to get into his
tutu and watch his soaps.

                            *********

     Alan was in obvious discomfort. His corset was laced down to
18 inches and his breasts were pumped up to 48DD's on M-X and his
force fed diet.  Sheila took notes as Alan struggled, tied to the
bed.  Hmm, third night on Lactamorphonate-M.  Second night on
Esterase-L.  That one was a banned hormone used to put breeding
stock in heat full time.  human females exposed to it had become
sexually insatiable.  Now was the night to start him on
Detestosterone.  This hormone attacked any male hormone in the
subject's body.  It created a craving in the subject to remedy the
loss of hormonal balance, since every normal human body produces
both male and female hormones.  Those exposed became addicted to
male hormones, needed them in their system.  Source of first
preference was their species sperm.  Won't Alan be surprised at all
the special things about himself?

     Sheila grabbed one of Alan's massive breasts and squeezed.  A
stream of milk shot up into the air.

     Good!  Sheila thought.  By tomorrow he'll be a regular cow,
pumping himself twice a day.  I can't wait to see him drink his own
milk.

                            *********

     Alan sat at the kitchen table.  The electric pump hummed
noisily.  How can this be happening to me?

     One container was full and Alan was busy filling the second. 
Trying to put on a bra had brought forth a flood of milk.  Alan
panicked, but Sheila had explained that this was just a rare, but
expected, side effect of the feminizing process.  If Alan did as he
was told everything would be alright.  So Alan had learned to use
the breast pump and now had to pump himself every other hour.  It
wasn't hard to tell when he was overdue; his breasts felt like they
would explode.

     Alan switched the bottles and watched as the third was half
filled before he went dry.  Adjusting his nursing bra, Alan carried
the bottles to the refrigerator.  Neatly lined up inside were
another ten.  At this rate he might fell thirty a day.  And he felt
so hot.  Itchy.  He kept rubbing his false vagina trying to find
some relief.  Alan had looked for his dildo girdle, but couldn't
find it.

     That afternoon as Alan pumped himself yet again, he found
himself looking at the crotches of the men on television, not
realizing that he was doing so.  I wonder what it would be like...

                            *********

     Sheila sat in the study and reviewed her lover's progress. 
His breast growth had stopped at 55DD and Alan was pumping out more
than twenty ounces of milk every two hours.  His uncorsetted waist
was down to 18 inches, while his hips had been compressed to stay
at 40.  He now stood 5'2" and weighed 147 pounds, mostly tits and
ass.

     This evening when Sheila had shown him a much more
aggressively endowed version of the latex girdle, Alan had been
quite willing to impale himself and insert the leads.  Even now,
she could hear him sighing thorough another orgasm.  The hormone
drip was eagerly devoured after Sheila had added a touch of sperm
to the brew.  In a short time, she had taken Mr. Wall Street and
turned him into a balloon titted cow, constantly in heat, and dying
for a cock to suck.

     The fool probably thought that this was all over a moustache. 
Hardly!  Sheila wanted to be rich and Alan certainly had been. 
Tomorrow, Alan would be drugged and taken to a clinic where he
would undergo the surgery which would make him a complete woman. 
If things went okay there, it wouldn't be long before Alan got what
was coming to him and so would Sheila.

                            *********

     Alan felt awkward.  The new gleaming black corset did a lot to
support his enormous swollen mammaries, but to actually walk around
with his breasts bare, with little clear plastic cups catching the
milk that leaked out to run down tubes to the collection bottles
mounted on his hips!  His panties were crotchless and the smell of
sex followed everywhere he walked.  And the men!  He couldn't keep
his eyes off them. Had that stretch in the hospital turned him gay
or what?

     "Thank you for coming tonight."  Sheila stood tall and
glamorous in the middle of the room.  "I know the circumstances are
odd but Alan wanted it this way.  All his life, Alan knew he was a
woman in a man's body.  He has gone through terrible trials to
correct nature's mistake.  He has worn a little stage moustache
tonight to remind you of the old Alan and tonight he'll remove it,
to show you the new Alana."

     The guest were staring at Alan and at, what was obviously, a
vagina nestled between his legs and made conspicuous by the
crotchless panties he wore.  They marvelled at the bizarre fittings
on his breasts, indeed at the massive size of his tits.  Alan was
oblivious to his surroundings and had been for some time. He wasn't
even aware that he no longer wore an artificial pussy.  His
thoughts were kind of vague; so what if the moustache is gone?  So
damn what.  Just look at that hunk over there!

     "So if Alan will come up and sign a few documents, we can move
the evening along."  Alan signed a petition for a name change from
Alan Ross to Alana.  That was going to be his full name, just
Alana!  He gave power of attorney over all of his affairs to
Sheila, and then deeded all his property and transferred all his
assets to her.  He could never deny it.  Everyone had seen him sign
away his fortune.

     Most of the people drifted off, dazed at the spectacle of Alan
so naked and degraded.  But some stayed.  Special people, friends
of Sheila who had been promised a party like no other.  Strong
hands picked, the now tiny Alan, up and placed him, breasts down,
in a metal frame.  His big boobs swung free.  A latex head harness
that left his face free was first laced tightly on and then used to
force his head up, facing directly ahead.  A thick O-ring forced
his jaws wide.  Alan's legs were separated and tied with padded
cuffs to rails that left his entire crotch exposed and ready.

     Someone entered Alan's new sex from behind.  It felt so good
to him.  Now, someone was taking out an enormous cock and feeding
it to him.  Alan's throat opened to engulf the hard rod.  It only
took a few slight adjustments to the frame and Alan was enjoying
his first deep throat.

     The pull of gravity on his breasts wasn't enough to keep the
milk flowing.  His breasts were taut with pent up milk.  Alan's
little hands kneaded and pulled at his mams, drawing the milk out. 
Milking himself, while being filled at each end, Allen couldn't
remember how he had gotten here, except that Sheila had been so
good to him to get him so much action.

     Sheila stood back and watched as her former lover, now simply
a horny slut and not good for much other than as a party favor for
the male guests, performed.  Amazing!  It's like this was what all
he,..I mean, she.. was meant to do her entire life.  Whatever, it's
all she'll ever do from now on.  Sheila looked back as she went off
to another part of the party.  Alana was working on a new set of
cocks.  I wonder if Alana will ever remember having been a man, or
if she'll even care.  

     Alana never saw Sheila go.  Someone changed her bottles and
she was perfectly content.

FIN