Katie 03: Thus Spoke Adam

The following work of fiction contains graphic scenes that may be inappropriate for some readers. Reader discretion is advised.

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Chapter 3: Thus Spoke Adam

The weeks following passed in a blissful blur. For the first time in my life, I could act in a way that felt self-actualizing. For the first time, I lived in a space where I--despite having been assigned male at birth--could wear a pretty yellow sundress. For the first time, I could wear lipstick, with having nothing to worry about except for smearing it when I made out with my hot, powerful boyfriend. For the first time, I felt no obligation to wear boy clothes or act in that faux masculine way that never came naturally to me. I was free to be the real me.

But the way I found this freedom presented a paradox. Ever since Orgos's cognitive reconditioning treatment, I was unable to refuse any of Adam's commands. My actions, my words, and my thoughts could be adjusted at Adam's will. He was my master; for all intents and purposes, he owned me. But he created a space where I could live the way I wanted to live and be the person I wanted to be. A paradox.

This paradox came to a head about three weeks after Adam claimed me. I was in the kitchen making Adam's dinner and wearing naught but an apron, a thong, and my house shoes. As I put on the finishing touches, I heard Adam's footsteps approaching.

Adam liked the idea of surprising me with his embrace, so I kept looking down as if I didn't hear him. I longed for his touch, which explained the smile that grew on my face as he approached. As he pressed against my back and wrapped his strong hands around my body, I instinctually arched my back and dug my ass into him. I hoped that I could temp him my firm, round appetizer.

I succeeded.

Adam softly kissed my neck as his hands moved toward the knot that supported my apron. After untying the knot, Adam's hands moved from my lower back to firmly graze down my ass, gripping a handful of cheek in each hand. I gasped as he slid the thong aside and rubbed above and below my asshole with his thumb and index finger. He was a master--both mine, and a master of stimulating my most sensitive parts.

"Are you my good girl?" Adam whispered.

I could barely catch my breath enough to hoarsely whisper, "Yes, Sir."

His lips still at my ear, he softly took my earlobe between his teeth, then playfully released and kissed my neck and the back of my head. Still gripping my ass with his left hand, he moved his right hand to my neck. His thumb pressed against my jaw as his middle finger pressed between my lips, sliding in and out of my mouth. I'd become quite talented at gripping my lips while making that motion.

Once this finger was thoroughly wet--my salivation helped immensely--he moved his finger back down to my backside and drew little circles around my anus. I exhaled sharply and arched my back further from the sensation. With that newfound access, he smoothly pressed his finger into my hole.

"Such a good girl for making dinner for Daddy," Adam whispered as his finger fucked me. I could feel his thumb and pinky supporting and spreading my ass cheeks as his middle finger did its work. "You deserve a reward for being such a good girl."

"Th-thank you, Daddy!" I could barely breathe, much less speak.

I noticed the contrast between Adam's poise and mine. Of course, the massive and hard lump I felt against my lower back told me that he was excited to move forward. But he seemed so cool and collected as he prepared to fuck me. By contrast, my hands were shaking and I could barely speak. As always, Adam coolly controlled the situation.

I heard Adam unzip his pants as he positioned himself behind me. I've heard both straight women and gay men complain about tops who don't bother to take their clothes off before fucking. But at this moment, our relative outfits seemed appropriate for our stations. Adam was wearing his usual button-down shirt and jeans with his fly down, and I was in an apron, house shoes, and a thong. A thong that Adam just blithely pushed aside. The implication was clear: Adam exists. I exist for Adam to fuck.

I felt the head of Adam's enormous cock press against my hole. I pushed the dinner plates aside so that I could put my elbows on the counter, further lowering myself and arching my back. I spread my feet a bit farther but pushed my knees in a bit to make things easier for the man who was about to fuck me. My man. My Adam.

Drawing on an abundance of practice over the previous weeks, I exhaled as I felt the head of his massive member go in. While a dominant lover, Adam was still gentle. He wiggled the head in and out a bit before pressing a few more inches in. I took slow, deep breaths as Adam pushed in and pulled out before gripping the sides of my ass and pushing in a few more inches.

My eyes went wide and my mouth hung agape as I took the full force of Adam's cock. Electricity ran up and down my back as Adam softly kissed the back of my neck, moving down my spine with soft kisses. After holding me there for a moment, Adam pulled back and began thrusting in and out. This was the moment.

Adam pressed his palm into my back, pushing my chest fully down into the counter. I could hear his breathing increase in pace as he fucked me.

"Fuuuck, Daddy," I whimpered.

Daddy slapped my ass. "Who's Daddy's good girl?"

"I-I a-am D-Daddy!" Each syllable was interrupted by the force of a massive cock slamming my insides.

After a few more moments of thrusting, I couldn't take the arousal. I desperately wanted to cum. But my master hadn't given me permission--he preferred that I begged like a good girl.

"C-can I c-cum, D-Daddy?" My mouth was still agape while I moved my head to the side so he could see my desperate expression. Daddy's hand was still pressing down on my back, forcing me against the counter.

Earlier that day, I made Adam breakfast muffins with eggs. Now, sugar and baking flour from the counter was getting on the side of my face.

As he pulled my ass back toward him, Adam's face shifted into a devious half-grin. "You can ask better than that."

"P-please Daddy! P-please let me cum!"

I knew that, if he allowed me to cum, I'd have to clean this apron. I was nervous about the possibility that Adam would eventually decide that he preferred me with an artificial vagina over a penis. On one hand, I wanted to be everything that he wanted. On the other, the prospect of losing that appendage terrified me. Though I doubted that he would ever make that decision: if Adam wanted a biological woman, he would have zero trouble finding one. I suspected that he enjoyed that little thing dangling between my legs.

A sudden growth and pulsating interrupted my thoughts. Adam's breathing picked up. He was about to cum. He sharply and repeatedly inhaled and exhaled for several moments as he pulled my ass back onto his cock. I could feel it pulsating as it filled me up.

I felt a cocktail of fear and satisfaction. On one hand, even with my mouth agape like an idiot there on the counter, I felt the corners of my mouth pick up as I basked in the satisfaction of having pleased Adam. But I was worried that he would leave me high and dry without permission to cum.

My worry was short-lived as Adam leaned forward and whispered into my ear, "cum for Daddy."

My head hung forward and I rested my forehead on the counter as my body convulsed. I felt Adam's cock softening inside of me as he held me by the waist.

I thought about the contrast between Adam's voluminous spurts and my pathetic little dribbles. I would soon have a massive load dribbling out of me. By contrast, my apron was barely damp from my pathetic little spurts. Just one more reminder that he was the man of this house.

Adam chuckled, relishing in his power over my orgasms. "Did you cum for Daddy?"

"Y-yes, Sir!" I could barely speak through my breathlessness.

I noticed that I never felt that shameful, "post-nut clarity" after Adam made me cum. I remembered that, when masturbating alone on a computer, I would always feel a great weight of shame after binging trans and sissy porn. But I never experienced that with Adam. I wasn't sure if it was because of the cognitive reconditioning or because being fucked by Adam just felt so right.

After a few more sensual moments, Adam kissed me once more on the back of the neck and pulled out of me. "Dinner smells lovely," he remarked, "I'll be waiting at the table."

He planted one more slap on my ass before he stepped away and toward the dining room. I hoped that he wasn't looking as he stepped away because I could feel some of his cum drip out of me as my ass cheek jiggled.

I washed up and changed into a new apron before I bounced out of the kitchen holding our dinner plates. Adam was reading a book. After I set down the plates, Adam set his book down and looked at me, then down at the food.

"This looks delicious!" Adam beamed.

I'd prepared Thai coconut curry over basmati rice and vegetables. After I'd last prepared this, Adam suggested that I try layering the rice with a bed of spinach. I was skeptical, but I turned out brilliantly.

As we ate, I noticed the book that Adam was reading. The Gay Science, by Friedrich Nietzsche. I asked Adam if he was reading about gender and sexuality.

Adam nearly spat out his food. "Katie, you're not serious, are you? Do you not know who Nietzsche was?"

I wanted to lie, but my conditioning wouldn't allow it. "No, Sir. I mean, I've heard the name before, but I don't know anything about him."

"Well, first of all, The Gay Science is not exactly about 'gender and sexuality,'" Adam laughed, "it's more like 'The Joyous Science.' Nietzsche had a few problematic ideas, but his work helped me come to terms with some of my own sexuality, and with leaving religion."

"That sounds meaningful, Sir."

"It is. And Katie, you mentioned that you grew up in a fundamentalist religious institution. Nietzsche helped me find direction when I left religion. I wonder if it could help you too."

"What do you mean, Sir?"

Adam leaned back in his chair and looked thoughtfully into the distance. "In another of his books, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Nietzsche teaches us a metaphor called the 'metamorphosis.' Basically, a person's spirit transforms from a camel, into a lion, then into a child."

Adam paused, noticing my breathing increase. "Are you okay, Katie?"

At this point, I was annoyed that my reconditioning wouldn't allow me to lie. "You sound very thoughtful and intelligent, and I'm super turned on right now."

Adam slid his chair away from the table and patted his thigh. I quickly moved over to sit on his lap.

He unzipped his pants and pulled out his member. How was he hard already? He shifted my exposed--and still sore from being fucked a few moments ago--ass back against his cock.

With minimal effort, Adam lifted me by my hips and guided my ass above his cock. I reached down and angled the head against my anus. Fuck. Yes. Adam slowly lowered me down onto his massive member.

I lifted my legs high enough that I could plant my feet onto Adam's knees. Adam had insisted that I follow intensive yoga instructional videos every day, and they were already paying off. I started to bounce up and down while rocking back and forth. Adam kept holding and supporting me by my hips.

Although he was breathing more heavily, Adam continued talking as I impaled myself on his rod. "Everyone starts as the 'camel.' We're laden with jobs, responsibilities, rules, and beliefs. We go where we're told and carry all of the bullshit that others heap onto us. Eventually, we cast those burdens off and become the 'lion.' We stop carrying around the bullshit that other people burden us with and start to make our own rules. It's a long story, but we slay a dragon whose name is 'Thou Shalt,' and that completes our metamorphosis into the 'child.' From there, we get to make our own rules and follow our own path."

I was aware of the absurd juxtaposition of Adam explaining nineteenth-century philosophy to me while I bounced up and down on his cock. We probably looked ridiculous, but I didn't care. I was in heaven.

"After I left the church," Adam continued, getting more breathless, "I found myself without direction. But after I threw off the old bullshit, I started to find my own purpose. Nietzsche calls it our 'will to power.' I wanted to find and fuck a sissy. I wanted to own her. I wanted to make her mine."

"Fuuuuck," I moaned as I kept bouncing up and down. Adam had a strange way of saying it, but I was glad that claiming me as his little sissy housewife satisfied his own 'will to power.'

"When I met you," Adam continued, holding my hips as I bounced on his cock, "I knew that I wanted you. I knew that I was going to have you. And here you are. Wearing nothing but an apron and your house shoes. Making dinner for me in my kitchen. Obeying my every command. My little sissy."

I wanted to explode, I was so turned on. But whether I would climax was at my Master's discretion.

"Can I c-cum, Daddy?"

Adam's breathing increased sharply and his cock pulsated as he responded, "cum for me, sissy." I loved it when we climaxed at the same time.

Adam gripped my hips and pulled me down as he exploded into me. Even though he had already climaxed a few minutes ago, his massive load again dwarfed my pathetic little dribble. I would have to change my apron a second time.

Adam held me on his lap for a few moments longer. "Katie, I think that the story of the metamorphosis applies to you as well. You grew up in a religious sect that told you that how you feel inside is wrong. A sect that enforced traditional roles of masculinity that didn't fit you. But you were never happy with that, were you?"

"N-n-no, Sir." I was still breathless and shaking from being fucked a second time in the span of a few minutes.

"Katie," Adam lightly touched my chin and turned my head toward him to look at him, "I want you to know that I'm proud of you. You cast off that bullshit so that you could live in a way that's self-actualizing. You never have to be 'masculine' again. You can stay here, and be my little sissy housewife. You can have your own 'will to power.'"

Turning myself on his lap, I buried my head into Adam's chest and wrapped my arms around his neck. He was right. Adam had helped me cast off the shackles of masculinity. And I was where I belonged. I was Adam's.