Magic Dress - Clarrie

I actually considered having surgery to complete the illusion, but thought that the loss of testosterone might make me lose my determination. I learned to tuck and tape so that my genitals did not show even in tight clothes. I got some good quality artificial breasts. A little padding on my hips and a tight waist all gave me a figure - a slender one, but a figure. My face, my legs, my arms and my hands were smooth. I was living and passing as a woman.

It had taken a couple of years, but I had finally got close enough to him for a date. Revenge would be sweet!

CHAPTER 5

There was, of course, no way I could pass during some heavy petting and groping. It had to be all in one go. While working at the hospital, I had managed to purloin a selection of drugs. Just a few, part packets, even some singles, from accidentally bumping the ward medication trolley. The sort of thing that could be an error, or the occasional sneak thief snatching something. No point in investigating one tablet.

Now I had worked out my plan.

Back to his flat for some drinks.

When he passed out, I was ready. It was important that he was fully aware before I killed him. I took off my gaff and released my cock and balls. I took my own medication. We should both be ready at about the same time.

He started to come round, and I gave him a little drink.

"You passed out, Jonny," I said. "Take this, you'll feel better."

I wasn't lying. He had to be fully aware.

"Hey, what is this?" he said, struggling against his bonds.

"Rape, Jonny, rape. You are going to be fucked as hard as I can, so you know what it's like."

"Why?" he asked.

"Tell you after," I said. "I don't want to spoil the surprise!"

The sildenafil and my desire for revenge had done their job. My cock was really hard! I put on a condom, of course, and was wearing disposable gloves. I had given a restaurant customer a handjob and caught his sperm on a handkerchief, which I now wetted and wiped on Jonny's leg and the carpet. I was wearing trainers much larger than my size. A spilled drink would ensure a clear footprint.

Actually, it wasn't as easy as I expected to force my way in, but I was ready. I didn't want to hurt my cock, but a little bit of lubricant and two fingers cleared the way.

Then I fucked him. It seemed to go on for ever, and I was in ecstasy saying "take that, you bastard!"

Finally I came gloriously, harder and better than ever before. It was rape of a man I hated, and it was the best fuck in my life. I stood buried in him for a while, slowly losing my stiffness. He didn't say a word.

Then it hit me like a thunderbolt. A sort of guilt and horror. I had not become Clarrie - I had become Barney!

My training meant that in an abstract way, I was noting my response to the hormonal changes just then affecting me. I must ignore them. Reason rather than emotion was important now. Some sado-masochistic play gone wrong with an unwise combination of drugs. That had to be the scenario. The worn trainers from a distant charity shop would suggest a large heavy man, not the slender waitress. A condom had been worn, but just maybe the forensics would find some sperm. It was unlikely they would find the man from the restaurant, but if they did, it was his lookout.

I was going to tell him why before he died. It did not matter what he said, I had to go through with it. The syringe was ready.

I had often thought about this moment and what he might say. Protests, arguments, threats, bribes, begging. I had savoured them all. I had never imagined what he actually did.

"Thank you," he said. "That was wonderful!"

I was stunned for a while.

"Do you know who I am?" I asked.

"Yes, you're the most beautiful girl in the world! I want you to live with me. I'll buy you beautiful dresses and you can rape me every day!"

He started crying.

"I never imagined I'd meet someone like you. I'll do anything you want, just please be with me."

I took a deep breath.

"I am Clarence, the pharmacist you set up to take the fall for you. Thanks to you, I was raped every day for two years. I wanted you to see what it was like before I killed you."

"Oh," he said. "That explains the passing out." He paused.

"OK, fair enough. You're right. Just rape me every day for two years, then kill me, and you can keep all my money. I won't stop you, but I will treat you like a princess till then."

My determination had rather dropped, along with my dopamine levels.

But was this a trick? He could probably overpower me.

I took a risk and released him.

CHAPTER 6

He made me a coffee and we actually had a date. Getting to know each other. I had tucked Clarence away and Jonny behaved like a gentleman with Clarrie. A gentleman who was very interested in her sexually. Which was rather nice.

He had taken the money and built up a business which was morally dubious but just about legal, like many in the finance world, so was indeed doing well for himself. He said he had felt a bit bad about dumping me in it. He wasn't gay, though he had tried it. He liked women and he did like me as a woman. His fantasy was to be raped by a woman, and he had paid a couple to use strapons, but it had been too much play acting.

I gave my story (omitting the murder). I was now used to living as a woman, and thought I could appreciate someone who gave me pretty dresses. I had really enjoyed raping him far more than I expected, and would quite like to do it some more before killing him.

So began one of those relationships which genuinely can be described as a love-hate one, and in which the sentence 'it's complicated' is actually true.

I really had learned to be a woman in many ways, and was happy to be treated as one. He was actually quite good looking as he wined and dined me, and soon I knew I wanted my dates to be complete, so he started fucking me. It was a little like it had been at the end with Barney in terms of the way I was treated. However, quite unlike with Barney, I really wanted Jonathan to use me as a woman, to fill me up with his cock and his spunk. To know I was so feminine and desirable was wonderful, and to hear him tell me so was beautiful.

However, I still wanted the exhilaration of raping his arse. It could not be loving, it had to be me dominating and telling him what a bastard he was and how I was going to kill him for what he had done to me. It gave us both some sort of satisfaction.

On the other hand, I really was the girl of his dreams: to be beautifully dressed and feminine in every way, yielding so well to his cock. But someone who could also treat him in a way he deserved and desired. No-one he had paid had come close to how it was with me. Two years went by and he asked me when I was going to kill him. I said "soon" and we had a fantastic fuck.

While I did not change my lower parts, he treated me to some implants, so I have a good cleavage. Some really expensive silicone pads inside special pants made my bum temptingly pattable. I paid attention to my diet, and some custom-made garments meant I could feel sexy in underwear or outerwear. I flirted with other men to make him jealous, which we both liked. He would fuck me really hard afterwards. But I also grew to like getting him excited and then suck him off. Wearing my sexy underwear (with stockings and suspenders, of course) I felt really feminine and powerful as he came in my mouth. I watch his diet and limit his drinking to keep him and his cock healthy. My cock is totally ignored by both of us. It does not do anything except dribble a little unless I rape him.

We actually bought the bar and restaurant where I had once worked. The manager was sacked, of course, along with the chef, and I brought in a new chef to maintain proper standards, with decent wages for all kitchen staff. The cash desk woman I promoted to the manager. I got to trace the woman who had helped me with makeup, and put her on the cash desk. I work part-time as a waitress, and she gets to keep all my tips. I like the attention I get from men, and have some regular ones who ask for me. The tips are just how I keep score.

The only woman I have ever screwed was the nurse. I managed to find out that she was married and her new address. I sent them a supposed promotion by the restaurant, entitling them to some free meals for two. I was glad they seemed happy together, and hoped they were having plenty of sex. As a waitress I told her I had been a patient, and remembered her kindness. She apologised for not remembering me.

We got part ownership of a medical practice with an attached pharmacy. I am a registered patient there, and a compliant doctor prescribes me what I need to balance my oestrogen and testosterone as I like it. The doctor also prescribes sildenafil for Jonny, but I take it to enable me to rape really hard, which I do a couple of times a week. It really turns him on, and he is desperate to make love to me in the days after. He does indeed treat me like a princess, one he lusts for! The oestrogen makes me feel really feminine and the level of testosterone makes me nicely randy. I love to be desired by men and to make their cocks hard. I think about the ones I have excited as Jonny pours his desire into me.

But twice a week I look back on all the bad things in my life. The bullies at school, the discouraging teachers, the girl I never got to fuck, the professor who marked me down and cost me a degree grade, the pharmaceutical company who turned me down because of it, the shitty defence lawyer at my trial, the pompous judge, the horrible prison experience, the people who treated me like scum as an unemployed man. And I focus all my hate on the man who put me in prison till my adrenaline levels are high enough, and I bang the hell out of his arse!

Once in a while, I will slip him something and he will wake up to find he is securely bound, and tonight is the night I am going to kill him. I am not sure that I ever will, but then I am not sure that I won't. I have told him what I did to Barney, so he knows I am capable. These are the occasions I wear the green dress, and I get the most amazing orgasm. He calls it my killing dress.

Jonny and I are really two not-very-nice people, so I suppose we deserve each other. He is a swindler and a perjurer, while I am a thief, murderer and rapist.

They say prison changes a man, and it certainly changed me. Though perhaps it was the dress.