Thursday, January 6, 2011

A Boy's Transformation - XXXVII

"Your sister is graduating, pretty girl," Miss Lu reaching to playfully tap the nose of her naked charge. "And she has a birthday coming. 18 years old. Party time. I hope you’ll be a good girl and help."

Brandy giggles and nods, then becomes concerned in thought.

"A party?" the timbre of the voice remaining prepubescent with the constant deluge of hormones.

"Yes, a girl’s stag party. It’s the new thing. Much more fun without worrying about the attention of guys... either getting it or avoiding it."

Miss Lu’s hands knead the breasts as Brandy lies on the changing table, feet high and parted.

"Feel good?" the fingers of both hands tenderly tweaking each nipple.

"Yes, thank you, Miss Lu," a polite and meek Brandy indeed enjoyably absorbing the commanding maternal touch.

"Help? How?"

"There will be lots of guests... from school. They’ll need refreshments... need to be served."

Brandy ruminates.

"Other people?"

"Of course. Many of her classmates. They are graduating. A combined party. Everyone will be in a festive mood."

Miss Lu gathers a mass of flesh at the left mammary gland, significantly larger than when her daily massage began months before, and ties a frilly pink ribbon. She works the right then deftly ties there as well.

"What about clothing?" Brandy finally blurts as the hands lower to apply equally diligent care and massage to the ‘boy pussy’.

"Girls like you feel much better on display, Brandy. Deep within you know that by now."

Yes, there does come a bizarre brisance of delight when made to exhibit in complete undress. Realized... but not fully understood.

Though concerned, Brandy smiles as Miss Lu expertly works the newly developed erogenous zone, the loose pink flesh at the pubes which once was a symbol of developing maleness. Her tendance feels good, pulling, as she does each and every morning, to assure the nerve filled pouch does not wither. Brandy peers downward to note that, as always, a watchful commanding feminine eye observes the reaction of his encased penis... his/her clitoris. Miss Lu is mindful, gauging the reaction, any undue swelling countered with an increase in the estrogen dosage... any outright attempt to harden countered with a liberal infusion of cyproterone acetate.

On this morning she diligently works to smooth her fingers along the hairless thin epidermis and segments the sac into two tufts, left and right, parting at the seam, where during gestation what would otherwise be vaginal lips closed to form the male scrotum. Then come two shorter pink ribbons and a set of small spherical bells. Miss Lu threads one thin strip of cloth through the loop of a small bell. The sphere of some one inch in diameter peels as the right tuft is captured, ribbon tied and the task is completed, encircling the right portion of the flushed sac, the circulation rushing in response to inordinate feminine attention. The left side is similarly entwined, the second small bell likewise peeling to announce itself.

"Now you not only look pretty, but you sound pretty too," a finger jostling the bells to bring forth a continuous shrill chiming.

Anal probe, string harness, shoes, Brandy never dresses herself. Just as she does not feed herself.

Lastly comes the sample jar. Brandy now has resolve. There are no longer verbal protests as the penis is aligned, the controlling remote pressed and with raucous peeling of the new bells, plus an uncontrollable shriek of pain, a sample of prostatic fluid is paroxysmally forced from his loins. Clear, not a trace of spermatozoa, Miss Lu smiles in satisfaction.

Finally Miss Lu lifts from the table and with a swat to the buttocks sends Brandy on her way to begin the household chores. With each step, he/she can feel the sonorous spheres dangling between his thighs, causing to wonder if the sensation is similar to having a set of balls.

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