He To She Ch. 02

(Authoress Note: All disclaimers regarding characters, age appropriateness etc are in effect. I really advise anyone under 21 not to read my stories. It takes a certain degree of maturity to enjoy my writings without recriminations. Don't write a review if you don't like the theme of the story. That's just childish. But criticism is always good and helps me.)

Below is Part 2. The first couple of paragraphs are repeated in Part 1

SHE – Her story

Well Hi, I'm Billie. Chopper wanted me to write this part. I won't bore you with all the details of the past weeks. Yes I'm aware now of how Chopper coaxed Billie out of Billy but at the same time I know she was in me all the time. And the further I go the more I want. I don't know what my limitations are anymore. The veil of society has been lifted and I see an ocean of desire in me.

From the first moment I saw Chopper in the bar I twitched inside and felt his testosterone as a powerful drug to my psyche. I didn't know where I was going but I did feel subliminal feelings especially the time I was in the bathroom and he came in. Just having Chopper stand next to me while seeing his pee rod in comparison to mine was breathtaking.

Of course I had seen other men at urinals with their dicks out all were bigger then my stub. All of them to pee like racehorses, which often made me a bit embarrassed. It was just for some reason Chopper exuded more male producing intoxication in me.

All the thoughts I had had over my life and been only thoughts except for stealing a pair of panties and wearing them when I was sixteen and another pair I had bought over the internet after I had moved into my apartment. Oh and I had, well I still have, a fuchsia wispy dress I bought at the same time. I only tried it on once and I guess you could say I lied to Chopper about only having worn panties. But it was quite a moment back then at the beginning of my transformation.

It's such a vivid moment when Chopper asked me about my 'secret place.' I had never shared those desires but within less then a half hour I had agreed to not only share them but also to live them at Chopper's home.

That was nearly two months ago. I remember later in the week when Chopper met me at my apartment entrance greeting me with, "Billie you look so pretty today."

What's amazing is I heard Billie and not Billy. No one had called me pretty before. Fag, yes but not pretty.

Chopper then said, "Don't worry no one is listening. My promise not to expose you or have you do anything you don't want to is a promise I'll keep. But Billie I will always treat you like a girl when we are alone."

Walking with him was like having a powerful force field surrounding you. Exotic as a Gauguin painting must have been when it was first shown.

Weeks later I figured out Chopper had meant even outside his home when appropriate. It was as if he moved me on his own personal chessboard. Pawn, Queen, it would change depending on the circumstances. Slowly I gave up more and more control of my life to him. But you should know I gave it up. It wasn't seized from me.

Anyhow, back to the first day at Chopper's. I thought he was going to get me either a maid's outfit or a schoolgirl outfit. But he did neither. Instead when we went into his home he told me to go to the bedroom and change. Also, from then on, that was to be the first thing I did each time I went to his house. I was to always be a girl as quickly as possible.

I went to the bedroom and there on the bed was a black trapeze dress. The reason I knew it was called a trapeze dress was the receipt had a description.

"Black Trapeze featuring thick tank straps, high U neckline."

Chopper had come into the bedroom with me explaining he didn't want to limit me so he said he had bought an accessory item but I should take off my clothes and change first. He handed me a pair of cotton panties saying, "it's too soon for satin Billie."

I removed all my clothes, turning away from him, slid the panties on and then put the dress on over my head. Just the turning away move was so different for me. I was being modest. How funny. It was more then when I held the towel in front of me. Back then I was still mostly boy but now I'm turning girl. Not a loud demanding female but more a demur submissive girl. I am coming to understand who I am.

"Billie, as you can see this dress buttons up from behind. It's a good way for you to reach into your secret place since it's much more feminine. Come here and I'll button you up.

Now you want to know feminine? Just Chopper's mass standing behind me buttoning up the dress was as if someone had drained all my testosterone and replaced it with an estrogen transfusion.

After he finished Chopper went and sat in his chair and called me to come over when I was ready. I walked out to the living room and there he was sitting or shall I say lounging in his "I am the MAN of the HOUSE" chair. Chopper motioned me over with an index finger wave. Command/Submit. When I was in front of him he handed me a small white gift-wrapped box with a magenta bow and told me it was present. I opened it and inside was a tiny frilly white apron with the word Billie in pink script written on the lower front.

"See, it's almost a maid's outfit but so much more versatile," Chopper chuckled as he buttoned me up. I was so nervous. He had me turn around fastening the little apron with a bow in the back.

"Remember Billie everything we do is of your own volition," he said.

As you know Chopper towers over me and is bald with a goatee. Even the name Chopper translated to me as 'testosterone man.'

"Go look in the mirror," Chopper said.

The funny part was I felt his tone was authoritative but I also thought he seemed to be to asking. I would learn later he didn't ask. It was my imagination giving me permission to take this journey to my hidden secrets. If I can explain it, his demeanor, tone and words seemed to coax a response from me of submissive assent.

When I went to the mirror and looked I saw how gurly I appeared except for the various soft patches of hair under my arms, on my legs and elsewhere. I also noticed my hairdo was definitely not girly.

That first time I spent hours cleaning his kitchen and bringing him a few beers as he sat in his Lazy Boy chair watching a ball game. Being a maid to a man seemed so wrong in what social mores had imprinted on my reality but doing it also felt good. I was unsure of which to listen too. Now I had entered my 'secret place' and reality there was a joy.

Outside of his saying, "you said a maid so why don't you just enjoy being one today," he gave me no instructions. I enjoyed the whole time almost as if I had been given a 'special ego time release pill.'

As I walked around the house barefoot the dress moved sensuously against my thighs. It swished and made me want to move like a pendulum. I had no idea if I was walking as girl or a clown.

Chopper didn't say a word but I did feel a femininity that I wanted and didn't wish to ever hide again. So sensuous was the cloth against my skin I even felt a tiny erection and hoped he couldn't see it. This was a moment having a small penis was a good thing.

At the end of the first session Chopper asked me if I wanted him to proceed feminizing me.

Blushingly and without much hestiation I answered, "Yes."

By the end of the third session (remember we were meeting three times a week) I actually asked him if it would be ok if I shaved the hair off my body since it felt funny against the dress. Here I was asking permission because with it I could do it. Submission is a funny mental state. You see before I asked permission several thoughts had raced through my mind during the proceeding twenty-four hours. Should I do it? What if he said, "no?" By asking was I directing the role-play? The answer to that was quite simply. It takes two to tango. Chopper may have gotten me to walk on this path but it was my legs walking. I didn't control the scenery just the destination. Or so I thought at that time.

He smiled, which crinkled up his scar, saying, "Billie this is about you so if you want to Nike it. Paint your nails. Get a mani/pedi. Buy makeup. Here you are free. Your secret room should be a wonderful place. There are no goblins. Just dresses and enjoyment.

Each session had me falling further into Billie. It seemed as if Chopper knew how to unlock the next-door and then the door after that until he would get to my soul. A soul even I didn't know the everything about. When I showed up with all my hair removed except on my forearms he handed me a pair of satin panties.

The next time I got a mani/pedi, I even had my toenails painted red since I figured no one would ever see them; he gave me a pair of heels and stockings. They were just three inches open toe black patent leather but still a thrill for Billie. Now I had my little red nails poking out of the straps holding my feet into the shoes. As difficult as walking in them were at first each step felt as if I was moving quicker to my unknown destination.

The second week changes seemed progress more quickly. I was so enjoying myself and Chopper would reinforce this in many ways. When I wasn't cleaning up his home or making him something to eat he would have me study on the computer. I learned how to apply makeup and finally came up with a good look Chopper approved of. He said someday perhaps a stylist could teach me more. Ha, a University of Phoenix for the gender bender.

Chopper had never made an advance on me. He kept his word but at the same time he often wandered around in his underwear. I couldn't help but notice his package and I think he caught me staring a couple of times but he never said a word.

What's odd is prior to the moment of truly noticing his 'package,' I hadn't even thought about someone else may be waiting in the dark recesses of my 'secret.' It happened one afternoon when I was wearing a schoolgirl outfit he had bought for me. Oh, I guess I didn't tell you how Chopper slowly filled a small wardrobe for me. It wasn't much. I had the evening dress with apron, a sapphire blue short puffy dress with white trim on the short sleeves and sewn in matching faux petticoat. But I think it was the schoolgirl outfit when I realized I was so girl I should probably think about it.

That outfit was comprised of a short plaid skirt, very typical schoolgirl, but a bit shorter then probably permissible since it was about six inches above my knees. A plain white shirt, blue blazer, black leggings, flats and a school tie rounded out the outfit.

Oh and another reason was a Russian porno flick I saw with a schoolgirl wearing a similar outfit. She had to go pee and the girls room was occupied so she went in the men's room to use the separate wash closet. While she was peeing an older man enters. She can't see him but she hears him. She finishes her business and curiosity has her open the wash closet door a peek. He's pissing in the urinal. She's looking at his cock. There was more to the flick but it was that particular scene that came to my mind when I was walking past the mirror and saw myself.

I surprised myself since I began to wonder, while looking in the mirror, what sucking a cock, not an imaginary one, a COCK, Chopper's cock, would be like and as this gate opened I wanted to be even more feminine. Additionally I had never really looked at a cock other then in porn flicks and my own.

The next forty hours I thought about nothing else. I had gone from a effeminate boy thinking of dressing up to a young effeminate man thinking about cock. I still didn't think I was gay instead I simply thought I had the wrong gender. So the next time I was at Chopper's I wanted to know.

"Do I walk like a woman," I asked Chopper?

He told me although I had certainly been trying I hadn't arrived at that point yet but he knew a way to help me learn if I really wanted to. He commented how I swayed but there was more to the move then just that for a girl like me. He told me there was something, which could help, and we'd discuss it the next time we were together.

Soon after this conversation, when I came over on a Saturday (every Wednesday, Friday and Saturday) and after I had cleaned up and had his laundry in the washer I walked into the living room with a beer for him. He was sitting in his lounger with just his briefs and a t-shirt. In his lap was the remote and another small white box with a black ribbon this time.

Did I tell you he had tattoos on both his arms? On one was a half turned eagle. He said he got that one in the military. The other had a symbol that he said one day he'd tell me.

I had not seen him naked but the little I did see made me think he is quite hairy. Or at lease I thought so. And now that I was hairless from the next down he seemed very hairy mentally.

"If you want to walk like a woman I can teach you but you have to do something," Chopper said.

"Anything," I replied desperately wanting to go further. It seems once I let the genie out of the bottle the more I wanted to become Barbara Eden.

He handed me the box, "Open it," Chopper said with his grey eyes oozing the safety of our arrangement.

I pulled the bow off, opened the box and my brown-yellow eyes were startled at the content. I just stared. I think my mouth may have even been open.

Chopper didn't say anything. He just smiled one of his enigmatic smiles.

The plug was small and black. I had seen them in magazines. I even thought about buying one but I never had the courage always afraid someone would find out and the horrific ridicule.

"Take it back to your apartment and try it out when you're alone," Chopper coaxed. "And," he continued, "there is a web site 'wiki.susan.org' where you can learn more about who you are and also who you aren't

I put the butt plug back in the box knowing my face had flushed and a tingle below was still hidden.

Chopper had this way of making it seem the choice was mine but he already knew the outcome. Simply giving me this present seemed as if Chopper meant I would use it. Knowing the web site meant he had also thought about my conversation the week before. But then, did he ask me or tell me, to take it and 'try it out,' when I was 'alone'? Well it flustered me. And if I was going to use it I needed to think first since this was moving a fantasy into reality. Its one thing to be all dressed up. It's quite another to push a butt plug up inside yourself.

HE – His Story

It's been nearly three months now since I decided to bring the Billie in Billy out and she is a most interesting girl Actually she is the most interesting of all the boigirls I've had the chance to pull out from their secret hiding place. What makes Billie so unique is her openness to shining a light on the dark spots of her secret room and instead of fear she sees a treasure trove. And like finding a major vein of gold Billie's hidden secret runs deep. Deeper then she knew, as you will find out. And surprisingly deeper then I had expected.

One simple example was over a month ago when I gave her the butt plug. Once the box was opened she knew it belonged in her secret but instead of hiding it on a high shelf for no one to see the next time she came over she was wearing it. She walked with me from her apartment to my house with a perfect girly sway and didn't say a word to me until later. Besides that she didn't change her gait when we passed a young couple standing in front of her apartment building. She wasn't blatant but she wasn't ashamed either.

Billie is amazing. Perhaps the best there could be. Let me try to give you an explanation. The perfect boigirl will win the race competing against any girl for a place in the dominant secret man cave. And here are the reasons. She knows how a guy thinks. She doesn't have excuses to do dumb shit. She enjoys and explorers without recriminations. She's not going to get pregnant no matter how many times you fuck her. And when she's as beautiful as Billie and as thrilling to watch throbbing with submissive desire it's a wonder. Boys like Billie once unleashed or should I say properly leashed bring out a unique style of dominance. I don't expect most to understand from my perspective or man of my other dominant friends I have. But we've talked about it the role of a dominant and all agree there's 'Something about Mary when she wasn't born a Mary.'

She has taken the time to learn fashion; makeup, cooking, pleasing, listening and now it was time to see what else coursed through her vein. In some ways the depth of teaching and controlling a Billie is like training a Geisha .

"Billie come here," I called to her in my strong authoritative yet unthreatening way.

Even though I can't see her walking from the kitchen I know each step of hers is graceful, feminine and sensual. She comes and stands in front me and this is what she looks like now. She has had her hair professionally shaped and it's long to her shoulders. Her once plain auburn hair is now highlighted with a bit lighter color at the ends. The cut accents her oval face and she has plucked, pruned and perfected her eyebrows. Billie doesn't need much makeup since her skin is almost blemish free and tanned. She has two beauty marks and no I'm not telling you where. You'll have to get her naked to find them.

Oh, I didn't tell you. She thought it was her idea but of course she forgot when I mentioned how sexy girls with tan lines look so she decided to use a tanning parlor and wore a skimpy bikini so that naked she'd look like a girl out of sports illustrated swimsuit issue after the shoot. She is marked as a woman even when she takes off her clothes. Her tan lines are quite interesting. She must have thought long and hard about what to wear. The bottom actually diminished her little manliness and the back made her ass look even more fuckable. The top in the back was simple a one inch band line running horizontally just below her shoulder blades. But it's the front where she stepped out. Somehow like an airbrushed trompe l'oeil the lines curve and shaping her tits and then an obvious strap line where to hold up the top a string of fabric had gone up over her neck and around the back.

Standing there I look at her beautiful toes all polished, up her shapely legs her heels curving in her calves invitingly making the viewer wish to see more. I guess if I had to say whom does she remind me of it would be Jennifer Gardiner except with a 'shrinker' tucked away. I know she's wearing the butt plug since she's worn it every time after I gave it to her. Not only can I tell from the way she walks but she has proudly mentioned it several times.

"Billie, do you think about cock?" I ask as I touch her bare leg just above the kneecap on her inner thigh. And no we haven't had sex because I'm an artist and I need the canvas not only to be finished but also dry before I display my work.

"Yes," she murmurs in a voice indistinguishable from any other girl. Voice lessons have done wonders. She knows where to accent as a woman ending a sentence up the scale as opposed to men.

My forefinger gently caresses and I sense her forbidden desire even before she answers my next words, "Tell me what you think about."

Turns out our Billie has had some interesting thoughts because she releases sentence after sentence of both simple sexual desire and more decadent dreams.

She wants to see my cock. Actually she wants to suck my cock but a treat for our girl can only come after I push her a bit further down the winding road to the Emerald City.

"So Billie, could see yourself being spanked?" I ask.

"Yes but not something violent or harmful," she interjects quickly her red mouth parting the words as if a Stop sign meant 'enter'. "But I thought we were discussing my seeing your penis," she says.