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My Odyssey Part 9: My Second Day by As narrated

by Anne-Marie to Tony B

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© Copyright 2008 - Anne-Marie to Tony B - Used by permission

Storycodes: MF/m; bodymod; sexchange; cd; fem; cons; X

(story continues from )

My Odyssey

As narrated by Anne-Marie Killamajiian,
Wife of Ahmed, of the House of Mustaffa, the Diamond Merchant

Warning: This story involves bondage, consensual sex, domination, coercion, sex changes, sexual slavery, rape, and other jiggery-pokery. It is entirely fictional, and is intended as entertainment for adults only. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or to any location or activity is purely coincidental. Names have been changed to protect the innocent. (As if anybody ever is!)

Note: If you would like to contact the authoress to make a comment, you may contact Anne through Tony-B who originally published it as "My Story". She hopes you enjoy reading her story. Tony would also appreciate your comments. We will endeavor to answer all emails.

RECAP: In Part 8, Anne learned about eating right to keep her new figure, and learned about ‘Girl Talk’.

Part 9 - My Second Day

It started out normally enough. I was strapped to the bed again. I hadn’t been strapped down last night when I got my sleepy-bye shot, but I was, now. Was this going to be a daily routine? The Doctor had promised me that I wouldn’t have to be tied up. Maybe he meant when I was awake, or something like that. Maybe he meant he wouldn’t ‘keep me in bondage’, like I had done with With who? I couldn’t seem to remember. Whatever. I was growing accustomed to being strapped down when I woke up. What was it now? Two days in a row? Sure seemed like it had been longer. That was not counting the three weeks that I couldn’t remember at all, of course. They probably kept me tied down during that time, too, to keep me from hurting myself -- or so they said.

Well, they might have been right. My breasts were itching again. I’d give up a week of my life to stop that damn itching. It seemed worse in the morning, when I was strapped down, and couldn’t do anything about it. I know the nurse told me that it was only natural growing pains, but still ... they did itch a lot. Not a painful itch, but certainly enough so that I was constantly aware of them growing out of my chest. Damn! Where was Henry? He was usually right there when I woke up, to take care of my early morning toilette. "Toilette"??? That's French. Where did that come from? Oh, yes, I remember now my mother was French. Dad had married her just after the Vietnam war.

It seemed as if Henry had always been there for me – taking care of my toilet needs. Surely, it’s only been a couple of days. Well, only yesterday, really. Only yesterday that I clearly remembered, anyway.

Just then, the door opened, and Henry came in.

“Good morning, Anne! How are we feeling this morning?” he asked. He was carrying that basin of water and a towel.

“I’m feeling fine, Henry, aside from the terrible itching around my breasts. Good morning.”

“I’ll take care of that in a moment, miss. Do you have to pee?”, he asked.

I became aware that he was right, I did have to pee. “Yes”, was my answer.

“Okay,” he said, “let’s take care of that, first.”

He made no move to release me from my overnight bondage, but turned to the nightstand and took that pee-bottle out of the drawer. He took a tissue and wiped the rim of the funnel, then pulled the sheet down, exposing my nude body to his eyes once again. I wasn’t wearing a diaper this morning – but I know I had one on last night

“Spread your legs”, he said, more as a clinical instruction than a sexual command. It was entirely, asexual, in fact – without sexual content or meaning. Damn! Not only was I thinking things I had never thought before, I was defining them, too! Must be those tapes!

As I spread my legs open, his hands moved down into position between them, carrying the milky-white bottle so the funnel pointed toward my slit. His left hand spread my labia wide, and he manipulated the bottle into position, with his right.

Pressing the funnel firmly against my vagina, he said, “Okay, Anne, Let’s see how well you can do it by yourself, today.”

I relaxed the muscles in my pelvic area, hoping the flow would come easily this morning. It did. It seemed like I was gaining control over my bladder muscles, to the point where I could control the flow a lot easier than I did yesterday.

The stream spurted out of my vagina like I hadn’t peed in a week. I was sure if he hadn’t held the bottle in position, and I hadn’t been flat on my back, I could have shot my stream across the room and half-way up the wall.

I tried using my pelvic muscles to squeeze off the flow. Ungh! No response. I tried again The stream slowed to a trickle, then stopped. Ah, success! I could control the flow At least I could if I could get it to start up again.

“Are you through?”, he asked.

“No”, I said, “I was just trying to control the flow.”

“Okay,” he said. “Let me know when you’re finished. Do you have to shit this morning?”

Damn, he was getting personal! “No, I don’t think so”, I said.

“Well, we’ll have to watch that carefully so you don’t become constipated. While you were asleep, you received a colonic irrigation every other day so you wouldn’t become impacted. I did it myself several times. Other times, it was Nurse Betty who took care of you. Now that you’ll be eating regular food, we need to retrain your bowel to have regular movements.”

My face flushed red with embarrassment at the thought. Another minute passed, while the contents of my bladder drained into the bottle. Finally I was finished. He was watching my face, so I just nodded to him to signify that I was done.

“Good”, he said, withdrawing the bottle from between my legs. He capped it and placed it on the nightstand. Taking a piece of toilet paper, he carefully spread my lips again, and gently wiped the entrance to my vagina. He looked at it this time at the toilet paper, I mean, and said, “Good, there’s no discharge.”

I wasn’t sure exactly what he meant by that, but as long as he was satisfied, I was, too.

“Now let’s take care of your tits.”

Funny, he always called them “tits”, while I always called them “breasts”. At least I thought I always called them breasts. I couldn’t remember But I guess that was part of the differences between men and women, what they called their various body parts. There was this man I used to know who always called his penis his “manhood”. I smiled as I vaguely remembered him.

Henry took a wash rag and dipped it in the water in the bowl. He wrung it out, and proceeded to wash my chest, carefully and gently circling each breast with the warm washrag. It went on for a couple of minutes. He was taking his time, but was also relieving the itching I had since I woke up. I was enjoying the sensations from the touch of his hands. As the itchy feeling went away, he reached for the towel to wipe me dry. In addition to wiping my entire chest, the loose end of the towel moved across my flat tummy. The sensation was getting me hot. I let out a little moan of pleasure as he removed the towel and used his hand to squeeze my breast. His other hand squeezed my other breast. Nothing was said, but he literally massaged both my breasts for a couple of minutes! It was obvious that I was turned on, this morning. – He didn’t seem to be. It was just a matter-of-fact thing with him. Just a massage, nothing more.

I looked into his face. He was dark skinned, but not a black man. He had a nicely sculpted European face. And he smiled as he went about his business. He was a man I could get together with.

Disappointingly, he stopped kneading my breasts, and turned again to the washbowl.

I closed my eyes, fantasizing about what he was going to do to me. I didn’t care that he wasn’t my doctor He was a man, and he was going to touch me. A tingle ran up my back.

“Actually, I’ve been doing this for you ever since you came in.”, he reminded me.

Using his left hand to spread my labia again, he washed the entire genital area with long, slow movements. Was he rubbing me, or washing me? I didn’t care as long as he kept it up. A soft moan escaped my throat. My eyes were closed, and I could swim in the sensation of feeling his touch on my most private parts. I felt the towel rubbing against my skin as he dried me off. Too soon, I thought, too soon! I wanted more. I was willing to take more – whatever he wanted to do!

“Okay,” he said, “we’re done for today. In a couple of days, you’ll start your exercise training. Have you ever done Tai Chi?”, he asked.

“No”, I said, “but I know what it is I’ve seen it on television.”

“Describe it to me – what you know.”

“Well, it’s Chinese, I think, and a lot like Karate, but everything is real slow. It’s more of an exercise than a martial art discipline.”

“Exactly”, he said. “That’s almost right. We’ll talk more about it later. I’ll be your Tai Chi partner, and instructor when we get into it. You need to do the forms every day to keep your body toned, shapely, and healthy. This will be important to you.”

“Nurse Betty will be here in a few moments to untie and dress you for the rest of the day. See you later.”

With that, he picked up the washbowl, and left the room, leaving the door wide open. Anyone who passed by the open door would have been able to look in and see me strapped to the bed, fully naked, with my legs spread wide apart. Discreetly, I closed them. But still, I was just lying there, fully naked for anyone to see.

My First Shopping Trip

Betty spoke: “Okay, honey, I’m back”

“The first thing is to get you untied from this bed.”, she said as she removed the straps that were holding my hands to the sides of the bed. “Doctor says you won’t have to be tied down any more.”

“Thank you”, I said, rubbing my wrists to restore the circulation in my hands. “I thought for a while that I’d never get loose, and I’ve just got to scratch my tits.”

She opened a drawer on the nightstand and put the straps away. “I know,” she said, “Get up, because we’re going shopping.”

“But I’m naked, “ I protested. “And someone took all my clothes while I was asleep. The only thing left are my shoes, over there.”

“That’s okay, honey,” she said I’ll show you how to wrap a towel around your body to protect your modesty.”

I couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic, or just facetious. Anyway, while she went to the bathroom to get a towel, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat up. I felt a rush of dizziness in my head, and was afraid I might faint, right there.

“Steady, girl”, she said as she grabbed me to keep me from falling off the bed. “Take it easy. Sit still, and don’t move too fast for a couple of minutes. I know exactly what you’re going through, I’ve been there, myself!”

* * * *

The ‘Company Store’ was more like a warehouse. There were several racks of dresses, both for casual wear, party dresses, and sophisticated evening gowns. There were dozens and dozens of boxes of shoes. And there were bra’s, panties, and other feminine wear in open boxes all over the place. There were several dressing tables with rows and rows of jewelry – earrings necklaces, bracelets, and anything else a girl might want.

“And the best part”, Betty said, “ is that everything is free. You can shop to your heart’s content, and never have to pay a dime!”

“All I had to give up”, I thought, “ was my manhood!” Not to be sarcastic, but I was suddenly aware of a whole new world that had opened up to me. A world that I had never thought about before.

“You’ll need a lot of new things”, she said. “You won’t need any bra’s yet – You’re still growing, so it would be pointless. Anyway, you need to develop a little more, so we can get a good fit for you. But you’ll need at least a couple of dozen pairs of panties, some dresses, and new shoes, of course!. You can have some nightgowns, and a corset if you think you’d like one, but believe me, they’re tight, and not a lot of fun to wear! Some of our girls like them, though, because they’re very feminine.”

“You’ll need a lot of accessories, of course”, she continued. “A purse or two, gloves, nylons, makeup, a couple of coats, and luggage to hold it all. Just like a world traveler! Then there are fragrances, perfumes, body oils, and jewelry. A whole world of jewelry to select from!”

The number of panties she had mentioned struck me as curious. “Why so many panties?”, I asked.

“Well,” she replied, “ you have to have a change for every day, of course, and a fresh pair every time you change your clothes. You’ll also want a fresh pair to sleep in, and a pair for after sex when you drip.”

“Drip?”, I asked?

“Yes, honey. Well, not exactly drip – more like just being wet and funky smelling between your legs. I assume you will let men cum in you, and afterwards, you may not be able to clean up right away. If that’s the case, their sperm will probably leak out of your vagina. That’s one reason that panties have a cotton lining in the crotch – to catch the ‘overflow’.” She smiled, as if she were enjoying a private joke! “You’ll also want to keep a pair in your purse, for just in case... So you see, you can go through a couple dozen pair in just a week’s time if you’re not careful. You’ll probably end up wanting a lot more than just two dozen, but two dozen will be enough to get you started.”

“But why would I let men cum in me?”, I asked.

“Men like to do that, and you can’t get pregnant, so why not”, she said. “Anyway, it’s a fantastic feeling, honey, knowing that his sperm is shooting inside you while you’re having an orgasm of your own. Knowing that you’re giving him the ultimate pleasure, and knowing that he’s never going to have the same pleasure that he’s giving you! It’ll blow your mind! Unfortunately, not all men know how to give you ‘the Big O’, so you may have to train them. But if they’re any good at all, it’ll be well worth the effort. Believe me, I know!”

“At first”, she continued, “ you’ll want several kinds of panties, until you decide on which kind you like best. There are dozens of different kinds. ”

“What kind do you like?”, I asked.

“Well, I like ones that are sort of tight, to fit my hips really well, and with a seam up the back so it draws the material up between my ass cheeks. I find that keeps me constantly excited – more than just subliminally aroused, but really ready for sex at any time, and any place. And I think about having sex, a lot!”, she confided.

“Are you wearing a pair now?”, I asked.

“ Yes, of course.”, she replied. “Want to see them?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, I don’t mind at all”, she said. “You and I are going to be very close, and we won’t have many secrets we don’t share... And one day, I’ll tell you a secret about panties!”

She raised her dress so I could see her from the waist down. Her panties were bright yellow nylon, and hugged her every curve tightly. From the front, you could clearly see her pubic cleft, and the fact that she, too, was hairless in the genital area. Of course, her panties might have been hiding her genital hair, but I doubt it. She turned slowly, so I could get the full effect of the skin-tight material. I’ll say this for Betty, underneath her white nurse’s uniform, she had quite a nice figure. And there was that rose tattoo on her lower back... I hadn’t looked at mine, yet. She had said it was some kind of initiation. Or more probably, since all the changelings got one, a form of identification! You can’t tell the players without seeing a rose tattoo. She was also wearing black nylon stockings and three-inch high heels. Quite a figure of a woman, in my estimation. And, she was sexually active!

Things you should always carry in your purse

“Here’s a list of things you should always carry in your purse”, Betty said.

Your Driver’s License, and other identification.

At least two credit cards that are not maxed out.

A small amount of money, and an assortment of coins to make change.

Some keys – car, house, apartment, or whatever else you may need, such as an emergency handcuff key.

A lipstick, compact with mirror, and a makeup brush. You’ll also want a small sprayer with your favorite perfume.

Vaginal Lubricant if you anticipate having more than one sexual experience before you can wait for your natural body juices to relubricate your vagina.

A small package of tissues, and a nice handkerchief.

A toothbrush if you’re staying away from home overnight.

An extra pair of panties, in case of an emergency.

A pair of stockings, in case you get a run in the pair you’re wearing.

And a Tampon, in case another woman asks to borrow one. A pad is okay, but a tampon is better. You’ll be using tampons when you need them, as long as you’re here.

Day Three and Counting...

When I woke up, I found that I wasn’t strapped down as I had been for the past two days, instead, I found a chain had been placed around my neck. It wasn’t tight, I could easily push my finger between the chain and my skin, but being chain, it held firmly, and would be too small to pull up, over my head. Looking in the hand mirror, I could see the bright, silver chain, and that another piece, about a foot long, was hanging free, down my back. I didn’t know why it was there, or why it was in the back, instead of the front, where it would have hung down between my breasts. I felt around the chain, looking for the clasp, but didn’t find it. I ran my fingers around the chain again, and still couldn’t find it. I couldn’t see any clasp in the mirror, either. I’d need some help to take it off, I thought. There was a small, round, silver medallion attached to the free end of the chain, Engraved on one side was the picture of a small devil, carrying a pitchfork. I wondered if that was meant to imply that I was, “a little devil”? – I thought it would be in poor taste, if it was!

My breasts itched, particularly around the nipples, but I was getting used to that feeling. I rubbed them until the itching began to diminish, and became barely noticeable. As I rubbed the aeriola and nipples, the nipples became hard and erect, but still small. For me, a very pleasant feeling! I was fascinated how nice it felt to rub them.

I became aware that I needed to go to the bathroom, so I crawled out of bed and made my way to the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet seat, I spread my legs, and relaxed my bladder muscles. The stream came easily, this morning. For practice, I squeezed off and restarted the flow a couple of times. No problem, there. It seemed as if I had gained control over my bladder, and would not need to be wearing the diaper again. Come to think about it, I wasn’t wearing it this morning, either.

(In sensitivity to my readers, I will refrain from discussing my other bodily functions Suffice it to say, everything came out just fine!)

After cleaning myself appropriately, front and back, I opened the door back into the bedroom, to find Henry waiting with the little bowl and a towel. “I won’t need that this morning, Henry”, I said. “I took care of it myself already.”

“Very good, Anne. Please get dressed.”, He said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

I had not noticed that I was totally nude, not having given it any thought at all. I was certainly not self-conscious about it, especially in front of Henry who had seen and touched my body often during the past month (only two days of which I remember, of course.) Henry picked up the wash bowl and left the room.

I went to the dresser and selected a bright pair of panties, and slipped them up my legs. Firmly pulling them tightly over my butt, I smoothed down the front of the panty over my pubic mound as Betty had taught me, experiencing that delicious feeling of smoothness as my fingers slipped between my legs, making sure there were no wrinkles in the fabric between my legs. -- There’s a lot to being a woman – things that I’d never had to think about before! I selected the white blouse and black jumper that Betty and I had selected yesterday at the “store”. Next came the new black strappy, low heeled shoes that Betty had talked me into taking, ‘because they looked so great on my feet!’, she insisted.

I sat on the edge of the bed and waited for Henry to return. I wondered what we would be doing this morning.

When Henry returned, he was carrying a full-length, stand-alone mirror. He set it up next to the vanity, and said, ”This will be better to see yourself. I’ll see you in a while.” With that, he left me alone with this wondrous new mirror where I could see myself in one full view.

I looked into the full length mirror, and saw myself for the first time, as others would see me. Very nice, I thought to myself. I turned around slowly, to get a good look at myself from all angles. I wondered what I looked like without my clothes on. So I removed my clothes to get a look at myself, naked. I looked in the mirror again, and found a young, naked woman looking back at me! Soft, rounded hips, a narrow waist, and little breasts that stuck out in front. Her hair was a bit straggelry, and maybe a little gawky, but her face was quite pretty. As I moved, she moved. Damn, I realized – it was ME! I remembered Natalie Wood’s line in the movie ‘Gypsy’ “Momma I’m pretty! I’m a pretty girl, Momma!” I wished I could say that to my own mother!

Betty found me still staring at myself in the mirror, and suggested a barrette for my hair above each ear, to hold it back off my face. She opened a drawer in the vanity, and pulled out two silver barrettes. She brushed my hair back and used the barrettes to hold it in place behind each ear. “Now, doesn’t that look better?”, she asked.

“Yes”, I said. “ Betty, I have a chain around my neck this morning. Is it something significant, or can you help me take it off?”

“Oh, no, honey. You don’t want to take that off – ever!”, she said. “We call it a submission chain. It’s sort of a symbol of your voluntary willingness to submit to your program. If you take it off, it means you are no longer willing to submit – to accept a submissive role – and you’d be sent back to the state prison. With your physical changes already, you’d be in a worse situation than you were when Doctor brought you here. So you don’t want to take it off!”

“Alright”, I said, “ I understand. Why is there a length of chain dangling down my back though? Was it just too long, or what?”

“No, the free end could be used to place you in bondage, if anyone wanted to do that. You could be chained to a post, or to the wall – even chained into your bed at night. It could be used to attach a leash to lead you around. Primarily, it remains as a symbol of your submission to the men in your life. Dangling down your back, it reminds you to be submissive. The only person who will be allowed to remove it, will be your patron after the auction. None of our girls have ever wanted, or needed that level of bondage. – You will be trained to accept some bondage, of course, but don’t worry. Your training will be based on pleasure bondage, not a cruel, slavery, kind of bondage Trust me.” She said.

“I do, Betty”, I said. “ I do trust you!”

“Well then, it’s time for morning exercises”, she said.

I didn’t want to leave, but Henry would be waiting...

Some Random Questions

As usual for this time of day, Betty was accompanying me downstairs to the recreational and exercise rooms. And, as usual, I was naked as the day I was born – which was, like, the day before yesterday, I thought -- except for my shoes and my new chain. We passed several of the orderlies in the hall. “Betty, why do the orderlies stare at me like that?”, I asked.

“Does it bother you?”, she asked.

“No, not really”, I replied. “I wouldn’t want to appear naked on the street, of course, but here, in the relative safety of the Clinic, it doesn’t really matter. And everybody I’ve met so far, has already seen more of me than I have!”

“Well first it’s because you’re totally naked,” she replied, “ and you’re very pretty!”

“That’s another thing. I have such beautiful clothes, why am I kept naked most of the time?”, I asked.

“It’s for training you not to be self-conscious when people look at you. If you always envision yourself as naked, you will never be ashamed to let them look at you. Besides,” she said, with a smile, “ men like to look at naked women! And we want you to learn to walk proud and unashamed of being a woman. Proud of your assets, and what God, and Doctor, has given you.”

“Well, I’ve noticed that whenever the doctor comes to see me, I’m usually naked, but when I’m taken to his office, I’m always dressed”, I said. “Usually he has me undress again, right in front of him, once I’m there.”

“Again”, she said, “ that’s so you won’t be uncomfortable or embarrassed when you undress or are naked in front of them. Have you ever noticed the words ‘bare assed’ are part of the word ‘embarrassed’?, she asked.

“Well, I hadn’t thought about it that way, but you’re right, I guess!”

“Well, you can’t blame them,” she said, “ you have a very nice quim.”

“Quim?”, I asked quizzically. “What’s a ‘quim’?”

“It’s an old word from Victorian-English. You won’t find it in many dictionaries. You can check the definition in the Urban Dictionary of Slang on the Internet. A common use is to refer to the portion of the clitoral hood that hangs down below the labia majora when you’re standing”, she replied. “Not all women have it. It depends on the size of their clitoral hood – the preputium clitoridis.” (Now there’s a phrase that’s hard to work into a conversation, I thought!)

“And it seems to drive men wild! You can frequently see it in pictures in the Playboy magazine. Yours is very nice! Would you like to see mine?”, she asked.

“Well, maybe. Just out of curiosity. There’s no sexual interest here”, I said.

“No,” she said. “ Of course not. I don’t have sex with women. It’s just for comparison. I’ll show you when we get back to your room. --- I’ll show you mine, and you show me yours”, she giggled.

Later on, it had slipped her mind, so I didn’t press it, but I did take a look at mine with the hand mirror before I went to bed

Next week, Anne meets Doctor Edie Harris, and her memory is tested ..


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