Gromet's PlazaTG/CD Stories

The Clothes Make The Woman 3: The Body Suit

by Jackie Rabbit

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© Copyright 2013 - Jackie Rabbit - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/m; cd; fem; maid; bond; public; hospital; bodymods; femdom; mast; climax; cons; X

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Part 3: The Body Suit

The time flew by with my Sam almost never present, but his alter ego Samantha was constantly busy maintaining the house and doing all the domestic duties we used to share. I now had the time to join the same health club Beth belonged to, and I reluctantly admitted to my mentor that she was right about there being no downside to Samantha's service to me, with the exception of my missing sex life. I lamented the fact though that Samantha just wasn't as neat and tidy as her husband was, as well as being slightly lazy at times.

It felt surreal for the two us to be having this conversation while we sat in a hot tub and watched muscle men pump iron through the separating window, and I wondered if those men had any idea how much they were turning me on earlier just watching them work out. I swore to myself that I could smell their testosterone just oozing from their pores, but it was more likely just the pheromones telling me they were desirable breeding partners, and that I had a biological desire to be with them.

Beth brought me out of my daydream by telling me Samantha just needs direction, and perhaps a more permanent body modification to fully set the proverbial hook and ensure her commitment to me. Beth explained at length how she had her husbands breasts done at the same time as his castrating hormone injections, in addition to several sessions of hypnosis at the training seminar. She said without the distraction of his constant milking that his motivation level went up exponentially, and helped him to more clearly focus on her instructions.

As she stared at the same men that I did she observed that the expectation of sex can be a terrible distraction for a man, and occupy needless hours of his thoughts that could be spent doing something productive for us instead. I felt the smile form on my face all on it's own from the thought of Samantha with huge real breasts, and I knew if they were big enough that I would never see her dressed as Sam again. (That also meant that I would likely never have to do housework again either, as I had discovered recently that I loathe it more than I thought possible.) Beth noticed my smile and told me she thought I would like the idea, but she also reminded me that my Samantha couldn't be forced to do something she really didn't want to do either.

I went home late that night, freshly showered and tired from the work out I put myself through at the health club. I had told Samantha that I would be late, but not what I was doing as a kind of test to see what she would say. I was pleasantly surprised not to get any questions at all from Samantha about my late night outing, and I thought to myself that I could just as easily be coming home from a lovers tryst for all Samantha knew. I didn't want to make too big of a deal out of it, but I had just set a precedent for any future outings I may want to have to satisfy my growing desire for a different kind of workout, and I had a workout partner in mind from the health club that would be just perfect!

In the morning over breakfast I showed Samantha the brochure for the training seminar Beth had recommended. I had read it completely over the preceding day and thought to just let Samantha read it and see if she had any interest of her own. I thought at first to give her the "hard sell", as we refer to it at work, but for my own conscience I decided to just let nature take it's course. If she wanted to do this on her own and decided later she had made a mistake, she would have no one to blame but herself and I would have no trouble sleeping at night, no matter who I chose to do so with.

The training seminar was deceptively named intentionally, as a kind of play on words so as to let the "trainees" or trannies come and go anonymously from the facility. The privacy of the participants was foremost, and unfortunately there were only before and after body photos of their work, and none of their facility. With Beth's recommendation I felt confident all would turn out well enough, and Samantha discovered she could choose whatever she wanted done, from a full blown gender reassignment to hair and makeup advice. I had learned so much about motivation and desire since I "discovered" Samantha those few months ago, so much so that I was saleswoman of the quarter and in line for a promotion. That experience convinced me in error to say nothing and walk away to let Samantha decide what she wanted on her own that one time.

It was disturbing for me to discover how easily I could manipulate men then, as if I had a hidden talent for it all my life that suddenly came to light. Not just Sam either, the men I made sales presentations to were just as easily controlled if I choose the right clothes to wear and said just the right things with the right inflections in my voice, especially one on one. The girls at the office had started calling me "the sales witch", and not always in a complimentary fashion, but they didn't see all the work I put into the logical end of my sales presentations either.

Later in the day Samantha came to me and I could tell she had something profound on her mind, and she told me she would like me to make an appointment for her to discuss her options with the people at the training seminar, but that she was concerned about the effect on me. When I asked her to explain what she meant, she was nearly in tears when she confessed that she thought she had been terribly selfish lately, and I instantly realised she was seeking my approval. I also realised that her constant milking were reeking havoc on her emotions, and a permanent change in her status with me on top would give her the stability she needed.

I told her that I couldn't help but to notice how happy she had been these last few months, and that I could see her with the package that Beth had chose for her husband, for a start. I realized Samantha could obviously only deal with so much freedom of choice, and my earlier idea to let her choose for herself had been needlessly hard on her, and an error I intended not to repeat for her benefit as well as my own.

It was my turn to feel guilty, because I had several ulterior motives and a ready made map of how to get Samantha where I wanted with Beth's mentoring. I told Samantha when she was going for breasts that she should go as big as possible, as the little breast forms she has don't really do her body type justice. I smiled when she asked me if I really thought so, and I had a vision of Sam trying to put one of his few remaining guy shirts on with D cups conspicuously "hidden" underneath while posing for his photo at the drivers license center. I knew that could never be allowed to happen with all the concerns over false I.D.s these days, and once he had them he would never be allowed to drive again, making his world much smaller and centered around me. I knew there was a process for the fully transgendered to officially change their gender status, but I had no desire to let Samantha go quite that far. I thought to myself with a suppressed smile, now who was being selfish!


I made an appointment for Samantha and took her to the training seminar dressed up, the first time she had been that far from home as Samantha during the daytime. The people there were fantastic, but the first thing they told us was they couldn't discuss what another patient had or didn't have done when I had asked for the same package that Beth's husband received. We would have to choose on our own what we wanted, they told us, or more specifically what Samantha wanted. They were there to help us with that, and to talk with Samantha privately to ensure she wanted this, as some of the things we asked about were permanent.

Samantha wanted breasts with large areolas, and I wanted her to get big ones so that Sam couldn't reappear at some time in the future and ruin all the fun I intended to have with my new found freedom. They still did the hypnosis, and had even improved that program with at home recordings, however they didn't do chemical castration injections anymore for some technical reason that I didn't care about. The doctor noticed my disappointment, but then told us they use a series of patches these days instead, and my relief at hearing that was not well hidden from the doctor.

The doctor then talked to me privately to let me know that Samantha would be useless for sex after the patches started working, and I smiled and told him I was fine with that. (I didn't want to reveal the fact that she was already useless for sex, by design.) He gave me a curious look, but misread me terribly and told me not to worry as the effects were reversible, if we discontinued the treatments. I wanted to redirect our conversation, and asked him how we could make the effects permanent, for Samantha. The doctor told me the only way to do that with one hundred percent certainty would be to remove the organ completely, and the aggressive way he said that was obviously meant to shock me...

Or both organs, I observed a moment later. He was put off, and thought to correct me and point out that in a male to female gender reassignment one of those organs is modified and reused. I told him I knew that, and I smiled, and he smiled back as if to say "ruthless bitch", but at least we were finally on the same page as to what I expected out of this. The doctor said that they couldn't do something like that without the patients specific approval. I told him I would expect no less, and thanked him for our private little talk. I thought to myself that it was too bad there were no female urologists at the facility, as they would likely have less penis sympathy that a man doctor would.

It turns out that the training seminar had changed several other things since Beth's husband had been there as well, and as a result Samantha wouldn't be getting any work done until she had lived with the body suit for at least a week to be sure it was something she wanted. This body suit wasn't something you purchased at the lingerie shop, it was instead a natural looking neck to ankles suit to transform Sam into a large busted Samantha, and to hide her man bits and shape her like the shapper did.

Samantha could only take the suit off once each day with my help to bathe both her and it, and go to the bathroom. It was also designed to allow Samantha to relieve herself much like a natural woman would, and condition her to sitting when she did so. The body suit could be worn on it's own in private, or under clothes as it was very thin for the job it did. They had many of them freshly cleaned and ready, so finding one to fit her with the proper complexion was no problem for the trained staff... Samantha wore the body suit under her dress on the way home, without a bra as hers was way too small for the rather large breasts of the suit, and she enjoyed some confidence building attention from passing motorists on the way.

By the time we got home something incredible happened to Samantha, with the aid of the suit and the confidence it inspired she mentally transformed into busty Samantha. The larger breasts looked good on her, and the fact that they were filled with the same kind of saline bags that she could herself get helped them moved and jiggled like the real thing. She had her hands all over them, once we were safely in the house, and they looked so good that I wanted to feel them myself. She then asked to borrow one of my lacy nightgowns, and she wore it and her high heels the rest of the night while she caught up on her chores, and I realised that I had created a monster.

I had to discretely go around the house and close all the curtains so that my neighbors didn't think I was intentionally putting on a show for them in my sexy attire. It was dark out and nearly every light in the house was on, unintentionally back lighting Samantha for the neighbors, even through the thin curtains. We were close enough in body size with the weight Samantha lost on our mostly vegetarian diet, and at a distance could be mistaken for each other, especially at night.

I helped Samantha out of her body suit to bathe late in the evening, and then back into it so she could sleep in it. There was a hook system that went up the spine of the suit, much like a bra, and she had to pull the legs of it up like thick tights and then position her man bits properly. I suspected she had been skipping her milking lately, because her man bits were making a half hearted attempt to get hard as she painfully packed them away into the suit for the night. There was little room for them in their atrophied flaccid state, let alone hard, and any swelling in that area took up room that would be needed for her other man bits that I understand are quite tender and easily damaged. I had drank two glasses of wine that night as I watched Samantha work around the house, and my toleration was at an all time low when I thought she had been skipping her milking, and I thought to make a point with her.

Once she was properly wearing the suit I told her to get into her bed, and that I would be right in. It was hard to be angry with her for all she did for the house and by extension me, but I also knew I had to maintain control of her for her own good and to prevent outbursts like I had to deal with when I first asked her to visit the training seminar. I had her lay in bed on her back, and I strapped her wrists and ankles to the four corners of her canopy bed with the segufix.

Her anticipation was impossible to hide from me, and I noticed she even stretched herself out to her full extent in cooperation with my efforts to secure her to the bed. I didn't want to pull her limbs outwards, although I easily could have, as I intended to leave her in position overnight and didn't want to hurt her. Wearing the body suit she looked for all the world like a nude large breasted woman spread eagled on her bed, just waiting for somebody to take advantage of her. I didn't intend to disappoint her either.

I stripped out of my clothes as sexily as possible for Samantha's benefit as I tried to rile up what little sex drive the Sam part of her may still have had, but instead of finishing her off, I left her there to ponder her helplessness as I took a shower. While Samantha was supposed to be bringing herself off each day as many times as necessary to fill a small ice cube tray section, I had been doing without, and I was sexually frustrated like I had never been before.

My shower didn't help very much and I walked down to the basement nude and dripping to see for myself how many of the dated ice cube trays were filled in the old freezer. I had bought a whole bunch of them at the dollar store, and a quick check revealed that Samantha had been mostly good about filling the little compartments at first, but as time went on they were less and less full. That was completely understandable, and in fact what Beth had told me would happen with constant milking.

I decided she had complied with my wishes to the extent of her ability, and even though I secretly wished for a reason to feed her some of the ice cubes in punishment, I couldn't justify it. I walked back upstairs and straddled her hips, and I wished my Sam was under me instead, because if he was I would have rode him to death I was so horned up. It was obvious Sam wasn't coming back, and in my position I indulged my earlier desires to man handle Samantha's large breasts, and even though she couldn't feel what I was doing to them she moaned in a very feminine way.

I decided to pay her an honest compliment and I told her I loved her breasts, which I did. I then dismounted her and sat between her splayed legs, and used my bare foot to rub where her man bits should have been, just like I had done the last time I brought her off with my foot. I could tell it hurt, but that didn't stop her from responding either, and I teased her without mercy giving her one hell of a foot job until she came. When she finally stopped humping my foot I told her I liked the way she looked "down there" much better this way. I just wanted to plant the seed in her mind to help her imagine herself without those annoying man bits in the way all the time...

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