A Change is Gonna Come Pt. 01

The power of the mind- to protect, to inquire and to envision. When free of the cognitive restrictions of morals and forced standards

Ch 1- Betty Unleashed

"I'll be back in a few hours. You know Rhonda, down the street? She asked me to go out with her for some girl time. I shouldn't be late, but you know her. What do you think of these earrings she gave me? Playful, aren't they?" And with that, Betty pulled her shoulder length brunette hair back to display the two long, dangly earrings for me to see. They flashed as she moved her head, the rhinestones sending flashes of glimmer onto her upper body and her lips.

Betty doesn't often wear glamorous or flashy things, well, not for quite some time. To see her wearing those was playfully rewarding and an anxious thrill raced over my body. She had a youthful motion in her step, the click of her bright red heels signaling her track down the stone hallway of our home. I noticed that she was wearing tight black leggings, cropped a few inches above her heels. A little ankle chain adorned her ankle and drew attention to her feet. That would have been the most fanciful attire she would wear, at least in the past decade or so, so I was even more surprised to see her tight red top with the plunging neckline. Petite gold chains graced her neck and drew additional attention to her cleavage. What is she up to? What did I start? And as the door closed behind her, I began to wonder what door I had opened.

Discovery & Frustration

My desire, my pursuit of giving and also receiving manifested in my every reflection and action. Suggestions, discussions, suggestive movies and novels- none seemed to ignite the fire, to get her to return to the vixen she once was. How dare she be the only one to decide how our sex life should be. How dare she tempt and tease me for months and years, to show me her desires and change me like never expected, but then close that door at her own discretion. She saw, she knew all too well, just who and what I was.

I thought that my femme being was put way back in the closet following our marriage. I had explored and discovered lingerie and makeup when I was in my adolescent years, sneaking in to sort through mother's drawers of makeup to complement my wearing of her fine undergarments, evening gowns and high heels. It was just a phase I was going through. Sure, it felt wonderful, it felt thrilling and I felt so natural when walking in my feminine way around the empty house. But, that was so many years ago. I was married. I had kids. I loved to look at sexy women. The images of my young body dressed so sexily was engrained in my memory and I knew it was part of me, one that I thought was hidden away. I was a man. I reminded myself of that every day.

I tried but I knew I was not the macho persona I presented to the public. I was beyond aroused to realize that she had begun to explore her sexuality. Her wanton lust could control her, her need to have repeated evenings and nights with men was powerful and she showed no effort to resist. I remained at home, watching the kids, wondering where she was, who she was with and- what she was doing.

And then suddenly, it stopped. Just as I, naïve, innocent, so unaware of just what it all meant, began to realize the deeper meaning, she ended her evenings out after work. She backed away from wearing her satiny teddies under her business attire. The many evening calls from her telling me she was working late, or better, telling me she was going out with friends for a glass of wine, all ended.

It was unfair, it was unexpected and it destroyed my own transformation. The internet, just in its infancy, began to give me some insight to just who & what I was. I was a cuckold, one of many and the sexual label befitted me. Effeminate, sissy, transvestite, crossdresser- all those terms I definitely knew, and they were all quite accurate. But now, now that I realized so much more about me, these feelings of my true self coupled with my acceptance of being submissive. And then nothing.

After Dark Assistance

I had always been curious about ancient beliefs and I would search endlessly for books that dealt with the early civilizations, mythology and pagan practices. From this, I became fixated on earth practices, Witchcraft and the Occult. Dabbling in these arts eventually became second nature- how different is it than a religious prayer or a holistic remedy? Many of the ancient arts, after all, have become today's basis for herbal cures, as I rationalized the risk and continued to test and formulate.

But there was something special about the Occult and Witchcraft. The potions often used herbs and plants which I discovered were not just hocus pocus. I felt more and more powerful, in control. I explored more and found the very old spell for a potion that was provided to women to enhance their bosom. My my! The page was stained with layer upon layer of various liquids, though obviously dozens of decades old at least, but in touching the drop marks, their powers still felt fully intact. As I ran my fingers across the many different drops, I brought my finger to my nipples. I saw a redness develop, a swelling and sensitivity to my nipples. I shivered.

I hadn't dressed in several years. I felt like I had been doomed to a life of asexuality. I traced my fingers over my flesh, my 'breasts'. I felt warmth, a heat, and my nipples tingled and I took a deep breath. I had to try. I found one of Betty's bras, padded to add a cup. She hadn't worn it in quite some time. Putting the soft fabric against my flesh, I felt arousal that I thought had been lost forever. I admitted to myself that I wanted to see what it was like to have breasts. Just imagine, I thought. No more padded bras as I dress. I looked in the mirror- as I dressed. YES... Yes, as I will dress and wear women's lingerie and dresses, panties bras... and makeup. My hand shook as I found her lipstick. I couldn't believe I was feeling so alive and that I was jumping back into dressing.

And so it began. And so it returned. There was true power in this book and I wanted to learn more.

Trans- fixed & Spell Bound

I sought the perfect combination - opening the window with a special incantation, an ancient potion and the drifting wisps of a guarded formula of unheard of incense and herbs- allowing the 'victim' to then open his/her mind to suggestion. Such is the case here. After years of toying with earth sciences, I was drawn to the Occult and Black Magic. And then I found the perfect spell- one that would hopefully transform my wife and myself, wickedly and perfectly, forever.

She had teased and tempted and frustrated me for years. Married, somewhat content, if need be, but I ached for more. Dreams and repressed fantasies weren't enough. No. I wanted and had to have more. Oh how she haunted my dreams- when I thought it was all about me, she snuck into my thoughts. When I tried to focus on my own desires, she somehow had a presence, distracting me from my journey, my need to think and recognize and embrace just who I really am. It was time for that to change and for my transformation to begin. Denial was no longer an option; if I had to help her to enjoy what she really needed to open the door for me, then so be it.

Ch. 2 Divine Guidance

The book I held in my hands had been with 100s of others, perhaps 1000s. It was really kismet that I even found it, and of all places, in one of the older Catholic parishes in Los Angeles County. As part of the parish's 150 year anniversary, the bishop had sent out donation requests to the entire community- some 80,000 who were of the parish or within the ever-growing parish boundaries. The church was built at the conception of the city and many businesses flourished as the city took root- most all had some tie to this old religious establishment.

Along with a week's long calendar of parties and fundraisers, the church also held a large book faire, selling both items from the parish but also thousands of books, donated and collected for decades from the many parishoners. And there, buried in a stack of old, torn books, was the one I had never expected to see. There it is now, with me. The edges worn, stained, scented with dozens of ointments and oils, herbs and various other special products. How this book came to be donated or, perhaps, taken from the church's archives, was strange in itself.

It's an amazing find and I shook with caution and delight. Looking around at the others who were browsing, I was quite certain that I was the only one who had any grasp of what this book was- and what ancient secrets were held within.

I felt amazing, odd pleasure just in holding it. I felt a rush of warmth race over my body; looking around, I feared that someone with the church would come up and grab it from me, trying to return it back to its prison. This was a book that had to be guarded, I knew. But its secrets and powers could not be held from the world- and definitely not from me; not now. I had read about this book for quite some time and now it was to be mine. Others had written of the dangers that could be unleashed if any would dare read from it. Others had promised that the prayers and spells would come true if the owner was intent in message and desire.

This was my chance. I felt pleasure, a wanton, erotic pleasure engulf me. I wanted to be even more wicked than just owning it. I placed the book in a stack of 14 other books I found, and proceeding in as innocent a manner as possible, I handed the woman assisting with purchases 2-$100 bills, and- voila, the book, this book that, in its English translation was over 130 years old, was mine. Its contents, however, race back centuries.

And now, in my car, shaking, I touched the book. I had looked inside at the brittle pages, of course. I wanted to be sure that the book was intact, its writings legible. As I sat, I had the urge to smoke a Virginia Slims 120, to put lipstick on. Sure, this wouldn't be the first time that I would wear lipstick or smoke a feminine cigarette. But this was broad daylight, I was in the church parking lot and I had seen more than several fellow church members that I knew. I couldn't fight the need. I drove down the street to the corner drug store and drifted along the makeup aisle- all those lovely colors. And then the one that stood out most- a fiery red lip gloss. Grabbing one, I then walked around the store, taking a bottle of water and then a slow walk to the cashier.

"Is that all? Yes. Well, no. A pack of Virginia Slims Menthol 120, please", I said. The lipstick somehow ended up in my sweater pocket. I wanted to steal it. I felt wicked.

She turned and secured the pack for me. I presented her with a $10 bill and took my change. Was I captured on surveillance cameras? Will I be stopped at the door? I exited. The rush as I got into my car, sitting, looking. I took the lipstick out, almost in a way to show it off, for them, and all, to see. The lipstick coated my lips warmly. I looked in the mirror, my lips full, looking wet and so red, fiery red.

The Devil in the Details

I accepted the fact that I finally could not deny my needs, and the need to use the powers of this wonderful book of enchantment. I didn't need to accomplish much, really. All I want to do is open her up, her mind, to remove the distractions and conflict. Then- then she can be receptive, to thoughts and suggestions and images. Some images she's dreamt of, some was a willing participant. Now, to bring those back, with control and with wicked intent.

Friday evening arrived with both of us tired of a busy week. The kids were spending the weekend with their aunt and we had the home to ourselves. With a storm blowing in, I started a nice, warming fire in the fireplace and watched as the embers flickered, how the flames danced with hypnotic grace. And I knew this was the time. I told her it's time for cocktails and that I had a new concoction to try out. Wrapped in her lifeless sweats and seated in her large chair, she sighed a pleasant approval.

Pulling the book from the bar drawer, a place she wouldn't have nosed around, I opened it to find the potion formula. I had read it over a 1,000 times, but I knew that the proportions were critical and I wanted this to be perfect. The ingredients were nestled away in the back of the drawer and quickly in hand. I lit a black candle, whispered the incantation and mixed the ingredients.

"Here, love. I made this one especially for you. I think you'll find it magical. Drink up!" I tried not to stare and draw undesired attention to the drink. Instead, I sipped on my own drink and toyed with the fire. A few minutes later, I saw that she had consumed the magical nectar and I smiled wickedly.

"Let's play a game, Betty. It's a mind game, and I think it'll be tons of fun. Open mind, sweetie. No holding back."

I told her it's a word association game and it requires her to clear her mind and to focus deeply; she had 5 seconds to tell me the word she that came to her mind that evoked speed.

She looked at me, a blank stare. "Hmmmm- horse" she said.

Horses. hmmm that's an interesting word for a woman to say,

I thought. "Horse, eh? You sure?" I wasn't sure if she gave it much thought or if she would commit to another word next time she was asked. By asking her to confirm her choice several times, I knew that, if this was her word, it was now engrained in her memory.

"Yep, I saw some horses racing about in a field the other day. The way they all ran, thundering, pounding the ground, their hooves driving into the grass, was fascinating." She looked at me, a look of puzzlement. No doubt, she considered this an odd question for me to ask and just how could this be a word game? She stared, bewildered at this game, the question, and, finally, how this evening will evolve or, more likely, fall apart.

"Let me get you another cocktail, there's a little bit left." Before she could comment, I grabbed her fine crystal glass and waltzed to the bar. As I returned I said "Here, Betty. For you. Isn't it delicious?"

I handed her the glass as I moved close to her. Bringing the glass to her lips and tilting it for her to swallow, I looked into her eyes. A glazed look fell across her face; I looked at her chest, her breasts. Breathing deeply, her breasts swelling, I saw that the potion had taken affect.

I placed several more logs on the fire and they were quickly consumed to fill the room with an orange glow. "The fire's very warm now, don't you think?" I asked. I could feel the heat emanating from the hearth.

She looked at me, dazed, calm, reflecting on her surroundings. As she moved her head slowly from side to side, her eyes slowly fixing on various statues and artwork in the room, her gaze finally rested on the fire. "Yes. Yes, love. It's warm, very warm in here."

"Well then, darling. Shouldn't you take some clothing off? It's much too nice a fire to quell. Feel the flames, the heat, how it warms you. Let it in. Feel it on your flesh. Your clothes are not needed, are they? Rid those baggy things from you. Feel the fire. Feel it all around you, see how that thick, large shaft of wood glows, the flames wrapping around it", I said, softly, letting the words mingle with the crackle of the burning wood.

Seduction & ...

Betty slowly adjusted herself in her large chair. The chair's high back reflected light and heat back onto her body, each flare of fire changing the shadows and appearance of her body. I thought of helping her take her sweats off but I realized she had to expose herself. She had to bare her flesh. She had to welcome the heat, the flames, the consumption, fully, of the magical elixir. Her movements were like a slow motion striptease. The sleeves seemed exhaustingly long, her pants unwilling to fall. But she persisted. In fact, she seemed exhilarated as she showed a hidden desperation to be free of the plain clothes. Frantic, she pulled the top and bottom off; breathing deeply, she flung them off, away, out of reach. A moment of calm fell upon her, then countered as she grabbed her cocktail glass and swallowed every last drop held inside. She licked the sides, the ice cubes and the rim. She wanted it all.

&... Submission

I whispered the spell's finishing words into her ear, my body shaking as each strange word slid off my tongue. And then the instructions; nervous beyond belief, I knew my words had to be clear, specific and everything that I had wanted.

Inches from the side of her face, I began. "Betty- when you hear the word "horse" you will remove all the distractions from your mind. You will dismiss the fears and inhibitions you have. You will go back to thinking of when you had an affair and you frequently went out to dance and drink and you flirted with men and you loved wearing sexy lingerie and revealing, sexy clothing. You will only wear high, high heels and never pass up wearing nylons."

I continued, "When you hear the word 'horse', you will crave cock. You will ache with the need, an uncontrollable need and want, for cock. You will put on something sexy. You will unbutton your blouse to reveal your breasts. You will put on extra lipstick. If you are at work, you will suppress this, but you will not be able to resist. Each hour that goes by, the need and desire will become stronger. You will have a small travel bag in your car. As soon as you leave the office, you will put something on, something really slutty. And you will go out to a pickup bar to show yourself off. But that won't be enough, will it? Never enough. You will not stop until you have had at least one cock."

"When you have had your conquest for the evening, you will still feel that need for more- no less than one but your goal is two or three. When done, you will feel aroused, glad, and warm. But you will also feel some guilt. But not guilt that will stop you from going out again. Guilt that you will address by buying a dress- and makeup, and heels, and lingerie... and wigs. Some items for yourself..." I shook, I trembled and felt a cold rush sweep over my body as I said the next words, nervous but needing. "For yourself.. and some... for your hubby."

I paused. I wanted my words to drift and swirl in her mind, in her thoughts. I looked at her, her eyes open but not changing direction- she was fixated on the flames of the fire. I saw her nipples, hard, her breathing fast-paced. "These items you pick out are for your hubby. Each time you go out to find pleasure, to find cock, you will buy him another item. You will tell him, each night you are cumming home, to put the items on. Each time you are out, you will think of hubby being there with you, dressed. You will guide and help to make sure he looks sexy, feminine and seductive. Each time, you will feel a stronger urge to watch him do the same as you.

These thoughts and desires will not go away, but only become stronger. Do you understand, Betty? Whisper, tell me, exactly what you are thinking. Every detail, every desire... tell me."

And Betty slowly moved her head, her eyes fixed forward, till she looked me directly in the face. "Darling. I understand. I want this. I feel... new... alive. ALIVE!" She brought her hand to her nipple and squeezed it. "I feel the pleasures of decades ago. I want that feeling around me all the time. ALL THE TIME!! ALL... THE... TIME!" She moved and gyrated her hips, her legs. Licking her lips, she looked at me and then my crotch. She reached forward, lunging and grabbing me. Squeezing hard, she looked with the lust of a wildcat. "I want it. I want men. You know that feeling, don't you baby?" And a wicked smile slid across her face. "I want my lipstick, my lips coated." She got up and walked to the bedroom.

I sat and watched the fire. I was shocked. I was nervous. I felt somewhat satisfied, anxious, uncertain. What just happened? Could the spell have really worked and really worked that quickly? The faded notes in the book, the little slips of paper that others had submitted suggested this spell was more than powerful; it was one to be feared and adored. Fear had not set in, nor had I felt pleasure. I remained bewildered. I swirled the last inch of bourbon that remained in my glass. As I brought the strong liquid to my lips, I felt the warmth return- not from the fire, but from what had occurred. I knew, I wanted this more than anything. As I thought that, I felt complete. I felt the heat, the pleasure that I sensed had also overtaken her. I was a witness and knew that something had taken place and that she had changed.