The Clothes Make The Woman 5: Penis Sympathy

Part 5: Penis Sympathy

I had decided that Samantha would be much more useful to me without her annoying man bits some time ago, but it took forever to make it happen. The doctor I had selected had done this kind of thing before, and she had even suggested (with an ironic smirk) that as the organ in question was healthy, but unnecessary for Samantha's chosen lifestyle, that I may want to donate it for transplant. I found the idea quite amusing, as did she, and it was simple enough to get Samantha to sign the release forms to make that happen. As I was ever mindful of finding a bargain, and the fact that we were technically "donating" the organ in question, the entire procedure didn't cost me a dime. The doctor had three ex-husbands of her own, and I was happy to discover, not one ounce of penis sympathy.

This was nearly the moment I had been waiting for ever since I had discovered Sam in my things and cheating on me with himself so long ago. Everything done earlier could have been reversed with enough work, including her magnificent breast augmentation, but giving his manhood away to another deserving soul was intentionally permanent. I felt smugly satisfied that at least somebody would get some use out of what I had decided Samantha never would again, and this saved the poor recipient from the trauma of receiving this gift from a cadaver.

My first inclination, (all those months ago when I first caught Sam cheating on me with himself while wearing my clothes), was to have the offending organs removed and preserved in a jar on my mantle so we could both look at them on a daily basis, although with different thoughts to be sure. It would be horribly cruel, but a necessary warning to the next man in my life who might wish to disappoint me. Then after I had met Jack the gentle giant and had spent some magnificent time in his bed, I thought to instead have them preserved in a clear block of Lexan and presented to him as a paperweight for HIS desk.

I intended to have Samantha present them to Jack personally, the symbolism would be impossible to ignore, if not amusing in it's poetical justice. The lesser and former man would be officially handing over his manhood and wife to the greater one. Neither would be his to use again, and Samantha would become the lifelong servant she apparently longed to be, but one that at least looked good and properly feminine dressed up.

Almost all the way there on her way toward femininity, but there was no way I was ever going to let her finish that trip. Her donated organ, (if modified),was the most practical way of achieving such things, and intentionally would no longer be in her possession. If I were ever to allow her to "hook up" with any men, she would have to be creative in her efforts, and her explanations of her uniqueness. Would she even have a desire to do such things? The doctor had assured me it was likely that her brain would rewire itself in that regard, but the direction of those potential desires was a mystery. Could her desire to serve extend to those kinds of service as well, as in a lust to serve the men she unintentionally teased?

Before I am judged too harshly, Samantha could be said to have wanted this level of enforced feminine servitude, it was at least in keeping with my discovery of Samantha's unknowing preference for single choices. I had also mentioned my desires for a Lexan display to the doctor before she suggested donating the organs in question, but I assumed that would be impossible with another man receiving the organs instead of merely discarding them like the superfluous fleshy bits of trash I thought them to be, at least from my perspective...

******

The surgery went well, as did the recovery, and before I knew it Sam was a distant and painful memory. To my surprise the doctor presented me with a lifelike model of my spouse's former hardware on our last follow up, encased in transparent Lexan cube with the date of removal and Sam's former name engraved on it's surface. She explained that she always had a model made from her pre-op photographs, (these days in a three dimensional printer), to ensure there would be no surprises in the operating room. She also told me she kept one of each procedure she had ever done in her unique collection, but in this case had a second made for me due to the nature of the procedure and then encased in Lexan. I knew then that I couldn't have chosen a better doctor.

Samantha became the model of feminine efficiency, as if she had a lust for domestic perfection, and my house remained perfectly neat and clean without me lifting a finger all at the same time. Eventually Jack would want me to move in with him, and the neighbors would also eventually ask too many questions about the where abouts of Sam, and the uncanny resemblance to his fictitious sister that I had created with the aid of some skilled surgeons. I had no choice but to have the moving men pack everything up for storage, put Samantha into my new sports car, and drive to Jack's mansion. It was a long drive, but I couldn't put Samantha onto a plane as her I.D. didn't match her appearance any longer, and I had no intention of shipping my fine car either.

I thought it ironic that Samantha had become an "unperson", somebody that didn't officially exist. She was nothing more than the creation of my desire for retribution, and as such totally dependent on my charity, or that of others for her continued survival. Such dependence leads to fanatical loyalty, and the desire to please ones sponsors above all else in the smallest of details. That level of devotion can be intoxicating for the one receiving it, but after a time overwhelming, and I realized that I had unwittingly created a permanent dependent in search of the perfect servant.

I didn't know what Jack the gentle giant eventually wanted to do with Samantha, the idea of utilizing her as a member of his own staff initially seeming cruel when he first suggested it, but she did have some natural domestic skills that her transformation seemed to bring out. I also realized that if Samantha were to become a permanent member of Jack's staff, she would be the primary responsibility of Jack's head of house, and I would in a way be free of her.

Samantha flirted relentlessly with anyone who looked down into my little car on the highway, the truckers having the best vantage point in their tall rigs to see her innocent looking exposures. Buttons undone, or skirt hiked high in the leather seat next to mine at least made the trip anything but boring. I watched her cross her upper thighs out of the corner of my eye as I drove along, it was a new mannerism for her, and had the effect of exposing a good part of her legs in her short skirt just like I had no doubt done a million times without thought. For her though I realized this was new because now there wasn't anything in the way to make this uncomfortable these days.

Once while feinting sleep in the reclined seat, (and her bra less assets nearly hanging out of her shirt), we were almost sideswiped by a truck, and after that I made her tone it down a little. I also made her pump the gas at the stations we stopped at, she almost causing a minor riot at one with the truckers when she slipped out of her low seat with her short skirt lagging well behind, and several buttons undone on her blouse from her earlier torment of the horned up truckers. Had I a mind to, I could have sold her to any one of them I wanted, and I wouldn't have been certain that she wouldn't have minded as she was turning into a slutty little tease on me. It also occurred to me that teasing is the first step to pleasing, and that Samantha was also quite happy with her new femininity, easing my conscience on the whole affair.

We had to overnight in a nice hotel, and Samantha and I both dressed nicely for dinner and some drinks in the hotel's restaurant, we both getting a fair amount of attention from some traveling businessmen types. Samantha looked good in her short dress, her makeup and sexy mannerisms done to perfection, and had the men's attention just as much as my own authentic femininity.

I discovered that the clothes do in fact make the woman, (along with the want, will, and desire to change things when situations demand), and I watched Samantha not so innocently flash lots of upper thigh and cleavage as she moved around on her chair. Had she made a conscience effort to consummate her feminization with one of the watching men, or was she only absent mindedly toying with them as her hypnosis had trained her to do? I had half a mind to let her go up to one of their rooms with them for just that purpose, but truth be told I was even more amused that Samantha would likely be the subject of their dreams and conversations for days to come, just as with the truckers she had flashed.

We left early that next day, I wanting to be up and out before the men we had taunted the night before, Samantha herself unusually quiet on the subject. That episode made me realize how difficult it would be to keep her all to myself outside of our old house and the explanation of her existence there, but living at Jack's would likely be a whole different deal...

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