Mrs Peason 01

So I rolled the shorts down my legs and off, leaving me standing stark naked in front of both of them. Mrs Peason walked all round me, touching me wherever she wanted, including feeling my prick and scrotum. She inspected me even in my mouth and I was finally told to bend down and spread my legs while she examined and touched my anus. All the time she and Quentin had been discussing my body as if wasn't there. Eventually she asked her husband, "Well, Quentin, do you think you can work your miracles on her?"

"I think so, Ivy," he replied. "She's got the basics so all she needs is a bit of work and she'll be lovely."

The 'her' and 'she' they talked about could only be me in my new role so I accepted it although it did sound strange to be addressed like a girl.

"Go with Quentin, James. I'm leaving you in his hands for a while. Do exactly what he tells you!" Quentin left the room and I followed him after she told me, "Go with him you silly girl. Don't keep him waiting."

Chapter Two.

He led me upstairs and opened one of the doors, ushering me into a really nice bright bedroom decorated in pastel pinks. The room was dominated by two pieces of furniture, a king size bed and a huge dressing table and there were also a couple of chairs. There was a large chest of drawers and a couple of other chests arranged round the walls. In one corner was a desk with a computer setup. A huge bay window was framed by heavy velvet drapes which Quentin pulled closed.

"This will be your room," he told me. I looked around me and mentally compared it to my pokey bedroom at home. I knew I would love this room even though it was very 'feminine' and if I was going to be a girl, it was only appropriate. Quentin let me have a couple of minutes to take it in then he opened a door and held my hand as he led me into a dream of a bathroom. I saw a large circular bath with outlets for whirlpool effects. I saw a shower almost big enough to hold a party in with three separate shower heads. There was a large hand basin, toilet and bidet in the same gleaming pink as the rest of the porcelain. The whole wall at one of the smaller sides of the bathroom was a mirror.

"All this would be mine?" I asked with hushed wonderment.

"Yes, James, it will be yours if you take the job. My wife believes that, as her PA, you should get used to luxurious surroundings because, wherever she goes she stays in the best places and you would stay with her. Now I want you to step into the shower but don't turn it on."

Almost in a daze at the prospect of such luxury, I went and stood in the shower. Quentin opened a cupboard and took out a couple of items. He pulled rubber gloves on his hands then told me to stand still with my legs apart. He wrapped my braid into a coil on top of my head and pulled a shower cap over it. Then he poured a thick, creamy liquid from a bottle over my shoulders and upper body. Humming to himself, he spread the stuff all over my chest, back and torso, making sure that every inch of my skin was covered. He knelt in front of me and very carefully lathed my pubic region with more lotion, spreading it all the way down my legs. Moving behind me he made sure I was fully coated, even having me bend down as more liquid was spread over and around my anus. I was completely sheathed in that creamy substance.

"Now we have to wait for a few minutes," said Quentin. "It's going to start stinging shortly but you'll just have to put up with that. This is something you will do for yourself every week, it is a hair remover and you must never allow any hair on your body. So, have you given any thoughts to what you are going to call yourself as a girl?"

To be honest, I hadn't had much chance to think about it as the surprises had come thick and fast. Maybe because I wanted to retain something of myself in what was going to be a momentous change, I wanted a feminine version of 'James'. Jamie was the obvious one but somehow it didn't seem right for me. Janice? Janet? Jemima? No, none of those, I thought. Then inspiration came: Jemma. I liked the 'sound' of it in my mind. "Yes," I answered. "If I'm going to be a girl, I want to be Jemma."

"That is a lovely name and you will be a lovely girl, Jemma. But you need to speak more softly and raise the pitch of your voice a little, as befits a lady."

By now the stinging all over my body was getting very uncomfortable. I started, involuntarily, to squirm a little but he told me to bear it for a few more minutes. Without any sign of embarrassment, he removed his clothes and waited with me. My eyes took in his sheer physical presence. He was not muscle-bound but well developed. His six pack and waist showed not an ounce of extra flesh. He was totally bald from the top of his head to his feet. His circumcised cock hung quiescent between his legs, not huge but certainly nothing to be ashamed about. I found myself wondering what it would look like erect. His scrotum and balls couldn't hide behind his cock but stuck out to either side. His strong musculature continued down thighs like tree trunks to well-defined calves. His feet seemed almost dainty compared to the rest of that powerful body.

By the time my scrotum felt like it was on fire, Quentin turned on the showers and I was hit from all sides by jets of cold water which quickly warmed up to a comfortable temperature. Using some kind of spatula, he scraped the remaining cream off me, each stroke of the spatula coming away with great gobs of body and pubic hair. Eventually I was almost completely clear of hair. Quentin had me raise my arms above my head while he inspected my under-arms. Using a delicate razor, he nicked away the few strays which had survived the depilatory treatment. He had me bend down which he checked between my legs, then round the front where he moved my cock and scrotum around so he could check everywhere. His gentle man-handling of my cock felt almost erotic and to my horror I felt blood starting to flow into it and he finished his inspection by giving my semi-erect cock a gentle squeeze.

"Now you must bend over and hold onto that rail." While I did this Quentin retrieved a bag with a long tube hanging down. "This," he explained, "is something you will do every morning and every time you move your bowels. It is an enema. You must always have a completely clean back passage." He showed me how to fill the bag with warm water and added some lavender perfumed oil from a bottle. He moved behind me and I felt a cold touch on my anus as something slippery was rubbed round. I flinched as his finger penetrated me there but was told, with a slap on my rump, to be still. Then I felt a cold nozzle slipping up my passage and it seemed to go in forever. Eventually he pumped a bulb on the back end and I felt something swelling in my back passage. Soon I felt the liquid from the bag squirting inside me and my tummy became distended. When the bag was quite empty, he closed the valve on the tube and detached it from the bag.

I couldn't decide if I liked this feeling in my belly with all that liquid sloshing around. It had felt a bit erotic as it was flooding in but now my tummy was hit by cramps and I needed to go to the toilet but he made me remain where I was for several minutes as the cramps got worse. "I know it's uncomfortable but we must give the enema time to work," I was told. "This might help." With that he started massaging my tummy, moving his hand in a circular motion. "Always do this clockwise," Quentin told me, "that's the way your intestines coil." The cramps eased somewhat with the massage but I was glad when he told me to go to the toilet. He showed me how to let the air out of the bubble sealing the passage and told me to sit down and remove the nozzle. The smelly mess poured out of me into the bowl and the cramps eased off. I was encouraged to massage my intestines and every few seconds there would be another squirting splash.

"Now we do it again," I was told. "And again until the water comes out clean." This time I had to do it all myself and the whole process was repeated twice. Somehow, I felt 'clean' inside and refreshed.

Next we both showered properly, both using the same brand of gel I had used earlier. I was a little surprised when he asked me to do his back but I obeyed and was encouraged to wash round his anus. He returned the favour and his attention to my anal region as he massaged all around the entrance gave me a pleasure I never expected, causing my cock to grow again. He rinsed me thoroughly down there, taking one of the shower heads and directing its jet straight at my back passage as he had me bending over. I felt a little of the water force itself inside me, making my cock twitch again, but he didn't hold it there very long.

We finished rinsing, turned the showers off and Quentin reached for a couple of towels. Somehow it seemed natural for us to dry each other off and we both played around with each other through the towels.

Chapter Three.

With impeccable timing Mrs Peason walked into the bathroom wearing a black silk house coat made stunning with huge golden dragons breathing red fire around her genital area. Her eyes immediately went to my groin which was sporting a full erection.

"This will be 'Jemma' before the night's out," said my shower partner taking my hand and passing me over to his wife.

"Oh, how lovely, Jemma. Yes, I do like that name. I'm sure you'll be a perfect girl if a man can turn you on this much." She stepped up to me and fondled my hard cock, giving it a couple of strokes before saying, "Now come with me and we'll select some clothes for you."

I followed her back into the bedroom where she opened the doors to a large walk-in wardrobe full of dresses and other lady's clothes. From everyday sensible clothes ranging through some really sexy outfits to smart business suits. I sorted through them, noticing they were all good quality. I felt a stab of thrill down my spine as I imagined myself wearing something like those I was looking through.

"They are all your size, Jemma. Hush girl ..." she said at my gasp of surprise. How did she know my measurements? "... I said I've been keeping my eye on you for some time – years! A private detective dug out such details for me just recently as I had decided you were the one. This evening turned out to be a happy accident. I was going to contact you in a couple of weeks and offer you the job but Quentin and I happened to look inside the pub as we passed the open door and Quentin saw you in there. Obviously he knew my plans so we decided to go in and watch you from a corner behind you. You were really doing some serious drinking and I know you're no sot."

I shrugged, "I just got ditched by my girl friend. Partly because of this," I reached up and pulled the bathing cap off and the pins out of my hair, allowing my ponytail to hang over my shoulder. "She never liked my long hair." I played with my ponytail in my hands as I told Mrs Peason my tale of woe. She hugged me close, trapping one hand between my ponytail and the cushion of her breast. "That's all over now. You have a new life before you as Jemma. Oh, here's Quentin. Darling, will you help us choose?"

He was now dressed in a thick terry bathrobe in navy. He looked me over again, muttering more to himself than to us. "Schoolgirl? Not yet, I think. Hmm. Nothing too sophisticated, no keep it simple." He started rummaging through the dresses, now and then holding one of them up to me before shaking his head and returning it to the rack. He hesitated long and hard over a dark cherry cocktail dress then decided, "No, no frills. AH!"

He pulled out a buttercup yellow dress with a fairly low neckline and short sleeves with thin black piping all round the edges. The belt round what looked to be a very narrow waist was a thin black cord, tied loosely with long ends trailing to the hem of the dress. He didn't even hold it against me to check.

"I told you he has exquisite taste, Jemma. This is so exciting," she half whispered to me. "But you and I will choose your underwear." She led me over to the chest of drawers and pulled one open. "You'll need this first," she told me, passing out what looked like a strange jock strap. "It's called a cache sexe and it will hold your bits out of sight." Together we picked through the underwear, starting with a matching yellow corset, suspenders dangling down. "You'll have to get used to this, Jemma. I deliberately ordered all your dresses with narrow waists because that will give you a more feminine figure. All your corsets have a bit of padding over your hips, too. Eventually you will feel comfortable but put up with it for now." I found the panties I wanted: a pale yellow silk, its short, loose legs trimmed with lace. Mrs Peason soon found the matching bra.

"Now we change James into Jemma." She gave me a tender, sexy kiss. Her next move surprised me as she spread a kind of gum over what looked like false tits. She fixed one to each side of my chest and I looked down to see I now had breasts. She had even managed to match my skin colour so they blended in nicely. The brown crown and nipple looked realistic. Mrs Peason pinched one of the nipples, saying, "They are called breast forms. It's a pity you can't feel anything there." She looked me in the eyes, her own twinkling, and wearing an enigmatic smile. "Yet!"

She sat on the edge of the bed lit another cigarette while Quentin beckoned me over to him. He started to dress me, beginning with the cache sexe. It did indeed tuck me out of the way but the way he handled me caused my cock to harden again which made things rather tight down there. He had me step into the panties and pulled them up my legs.

I was always conscious of the items of clothing going on deliciously as Quentin continued to dress me and my employer started telling me about my future. I would always wear female dress unless she said otherwise. I would soon learn how to dress appropriately for any occasion. She had a live-in housekeeper, Mrs West, who would take care of all the domestic duties, with a local girl, Penny, who came in daily to help with the heavier stuff. Mrs West would be teaching me how to cook to a high standard.

Suddenly, "Oof!" My breath was forced out as Quentin pulled the corset tight behind me.

Mrs Peason continued as if nothing had happened, even though it felt like my intestines were pushed against my backbone. "You will call me 'Ma'am' and Quentin will be 'Sir'. I will take care of your discipline with Sir acting in my absence. His commands have the force of mine and you will be obedient in all things. For we shall punish you as I should have been able to punish the likes of our friend Billy Toogoode at school." She chuckled, "Even you would have gone home with a sore bottom once or twice had it been allowed. But don't be surprised if we seem over-harsh at the beginning. You will learn quicker that way."

I had been listening to her intently and barely noticed as Sir – I knew I had to think of him by that name – fastened the bra behind me and settled my false tits into the cups. The way I was standing, there was no mirror where I could see myself but I liked what I could see when I looked down and it felt good, too.

The dress settled over my raised arms and head, being guided and pulled into place by Sir. "All of us," Ma'am continued, "me, Sir and my household will coach you in the arts and fashions of becoming a lady. I will instruct them tomorrow but I have already prepared them for this.

"When the trial month is over, if we are both satisfied of course, I will require you to have an operation to give you breast implants. I don't want you to take any hormonal treatments because I want a real man in my bed. You will be a real man but one who can revel in his feminine side. Your body will be mine to use as I wish and I promise you, I love inflicting pain on those around me, Don't I, Quentin?"

"Yes, my darling," he replied with a chuckle, not stopping in his task of dressing me.

She continued. "You will be circumcised at the same time as you get your breast implants, and you'll need to start electrolysis on your beard." The surprises were coming in thick and fast but she continued as if she had said nothing out of the ordinary. "Do you remember what you were doing with Sir when I saw you in the shower. You and he had been feeling each other, playing with each other's cock and you were both hard so I know you were excited by him. He will suck your cock if I ask him to. Can you handle that?"

I was guided towards the dressing table. The wing mirrors had been folded inwards, fully covering the main mirror and I was forbidden to move my eyes to seek my reflection. I was plonked on the chair by the dressing table. Sir pulled up another chair and started using brushes, pads, pencils and I don't know what to my face, neck and blending into my chest. Ma'am brought up a third chair and started in on my nails, tut-tutting at the chipped edges. She filed and buffed away at my right hand. I was thinking about her question and my penis was throbbing almost painfully in its little pouch.

"Yes, I think I can handle Sir sucking me."

I jumped as she tweaked away a hang nail. She pressed on, "How about you sucking him?"

That was different, wasn't it? I had certainly enjoyed playing with his prick but would I suck it? Ma'am didn't push the matter but continued with my nails. "You must take more care of your hands and nails, Jemma. We can have Sir give you a good manicure, maybe tomorrow but certainly soon, but make do with mine for now. He can show you how to look after them properly. Isn't he a gem?"

My entrapped cock had shown no signs of revulsion as I pictured myself sucking that lovely cock and I found myself saying, "Yes, Ma'am, I think I could do that."

She consulted Sir, at his advice, started painting my nails with a bright coral varnish, which she admonished me not to smudge as she moved to my left hand, and started tut-tutting over that one, too. "I'll make a prediction, Jemma: before tonight is out you will beg Sir to fuck you."

The two of them continued their work silently, except that Sir told me I would have my ears pierced at the first opportunity as he clipped something coral pink onto my lobes. That's all I saw of them, just the flash of pink. Ma'am finished my hands and made me hold them out to the side to dry and Sir put a coral pink velvet choker round my neck then bent to place coral pink pumps with a 2" heel on my feet.

They both stood up, pulled me to my feet and surveyed their handiwork. They exchanged a smile after their preliminary look, then moved around me with critical eyes. Coming back to face me they both nodded. "Close your eyes and keep them tight until I tell you," ordered Ma'am so I clamped them shut and found myself being led around and forward a few steps.

"I give you, Jemma. Tada!"

"You may look, Jemma. See that pretty girl?"

Chapter Four

Here I had been half-expecting to look like some kind of rough drag queen. That pretty girl was beautiful. Maybe because of the discomfort it caused me, I wanted to see how that corset pulled in my waist. I could see what Ma'am had said earlier about the narrower waist and broader hips. The black cord showed the difference to a nicety. The dress was rather short and my legs, in the yellow stockings, seemed to go on forever but looked quite shapely.

Looking to my chest, my boobs were not big but they were well moulded by the bra keeping them perky. The rounded neckline seemed to show a hint of cleavage, closer looking showed that Sir had brushed on a faint shadow. It was convincing. My face was a picture with the pink theme extended to my lips and eye shadow. My eyelids were a contrasting black as were my eyebrows which had suffered a painful plucking at Sir's hands. My ponytail again hung over my shoulder. I was totally changed. "Yes. I am beautiful." I said to myself and them. I twirled see further round, caught sight of Ma'am and Sir and gushed out my thanks to them both, but I kept looking back at my reflection.