The Day My Mistress Feminized Me Completely
When I came out of the bathroom with the plug still inside me and my body shaved smooth, I knew that entire day belonged to her and her rules.
When I came out of the bathroom with the plug still inside me and my body shaved smooth, I knew that entire day belonged to her and her rules.
I warned her that if I didn’t like it, I’d drop her at the next corner. She smiled, reclined my seat, and asked me to close my eyes for a second.
He left the door open for me. All I had to do was arrive, dress up as Valeria, and forget forever the boy I no longer wanted to be.
In the hotel mirror, that bikini did not fit me. Nothing fit me since they decided what kind of body I deserved.
Every morning is the same: I open my eyes with my body on fire and the bed in disarray, knowing no pillow can soothe what I truly crave.
That night they shot me up with the first hormones and made me throw out all my men’s clothes. “You’ll see how pretty you get,” she said, smiling.
When he turned around in that little town store, I thought he was a woman. He wore white jeans, painted nails, and a secret I wouldn’t discover until we were stranded on the road.
Daniel took the wrong alley at the worst possible moment. Weeks later, in front of the mirror, a stranger with his eyes began to appeal to him more than she should.
When he opened the bag, he found a burgundy bra and a note: “Get familiar with the sensations. Tomorrow we begin in earnest.” There was no turning back.
I rarely send photos: it’s dangerous. But that boy made me feel safe, and between black stockings and midnight messages I became the star of his best fantasy.
That night I put on the skirt, stockings, and heels I kept hidden in the wardrobe. I didn’t know that someone had been watching from across the landing.
—Today we’re just going to take care of you —she whispered, and I understood that after being her slut all night, it was time to be her girl again.
Only one name was left on his patient list, and when he called it, he had no idea who would walk through his consulting room door that afternoon.
I shaved everything, wore stockings and garters in secret. I never imagined a company conference would end with me giving myself to another man.
Adrián walked into that office as a senior analyst and knew, from the director’s smile, that he would leave as something else: something pretty, docile, and nameless.
Tied to her sofa, in a princess dress and with my face made up, I heard someone knock at the door. And I understood that night I would stop being only hers.
I’d been secretly wearing lingerie for years. That week, away from home, I decided to find out what it really felt like with a stranger in bed.
When she let the robe fall, I understood that my perfect neighbor was hiding far more than anyone imagined, and that night I no longer wanted to turn back.
That early morning, when he tore away the sheet, I knew there was nothing left to hide: he knew, and I wanted him to know.
I was hanging laundry at dawn, cold and bored, when something in the patio’s silence lit me up inside—and I didn’t want to stop.