Remote Control

I leave you in the body of a woman. One in which you would never be able to convince even your own mother that you are Howard Samuels, since everyone, including the good doctor you have as a housemate, knows that it is impossible to change a man into a fully functional woman, don't they doctor?

I spent the entire insurance settlement that was, paid out to me for my brother's wrongful death to avenge him and to set you up this way.

I know the doctor is curious, as to how you were, transformed into a woman, so I'll tell you! Fat lot of good, that it will do you.

I found an old Gypsy woman that did it. She did warn me that even she couldn't reverse it. Nevertheless, you are welcome to try to find her and to see if I'm telling the truth.

Don't worry about your poor mother. She was not to blame for birthing a devil's spawn like you. In order to protect her, before I changed you I took out a large insurance policy on you in her name.

She is going to receive around ten million dollars when your 'body' washes up on the shores of the lake. Which it has, I checked the papers this morning and your 'missing body,' was reported found already, (A simulacrum provided by the gypsy) so it is only a matter of time now before she is rich enough to forget you completely.

Of course, now no one will ever again have to rely on you for protection.

You being the wimpy, sissy slut bimbo that you are. Now you're even more of a sissy than my poor brother was.

I did this all so no one else will loose their brother because you let them down.

Now you're the cunt that I have thought you to be for the last four years.

Oh, by the way, about the pet rabbit you gave me when we were young, I drowned it on purpose two days after you gave it to me.

May you rot in hell, always!

Samantha

PS: The controller, sent with this note is what alters Diane's body. I leave it in the care of those poor misguided women that are under her spell. I figure sooner or later she will show her true colors and then you may use this to further humiliate and degrade her.

None of the changes I have made to her can be, reversed. At least not without surgical skills from a research scientist who is far more adept than you are, Doctor.

Take heart ladies the controller is still capable of shrinking her further, enlarging her humongous boobs to proportions large enough to require her to purchase two seats on most airlines, ha, ha, that would be a sight wouldn't it? Diane Toyavich, the walking tits! Her pelvis can go wider, her ass bigger, her lips big enough that most men's cocks wouldn't fit all the way through them into her mouth, you can even make her cunt flow fast enough that she will have to be hooked up to more than one IV all of the time.

Now, if you just want to play with your toy and not modify her, the red button, makes her orgasm every time you press it, for as long as you press it and she will probably become addicted to the massive amounts of neurotransmitters that form in her brain. Eventually she'll become just tits and a cunt that lays there, cumming all of the time, loving you more each time she spasms and begging you to push the button!

Moreover, if you want her to fuck everything in the room, just push the one shaped like a cock. Then, man, woman, dog, or donkey she'll fuck it and love every minute of it, at least while it is happening. Later she, (I love using that pronoun to describe you, you sissy Howard!) might just suicide herself if she can't learn to live with the humiliation. I was going to use this one myself on you, but I want you to have to live a long time in your bimbo-ness and let life in general humiliate you endlessly. Of course, if you two lesbian sisters ever tire of your lovely toy... well I leave that up to you.

Oh, by the way, don't destroy the remote. It will send out a command that will turn her into an 800 pound pair of tits with a three foot tall girl hanging off them. It has also, been made to trigger breast growth every time she touches it, so keep it out of Bimbo Girl's reach.

May you enjoy your toy, for many years to cum!

Ha, ha! I get the last laugh!

Both of the ladies were, wracked with the shudders after crying so hard for so long, once Maggie had finished reading the suicide note.

"I just don't understand how a boy as sensitive and caring as you tell us your friend was, could have a sister as twisted as that," Betty declared as she was still putting tissues to her eyes.

"I didn't know it at the time and my friend tried to warn me about his sister. He told me not to date her. I thought he was just trying to protect her reputation. Anyway, through word of mouth I found out last year that she was the reason he was so meek and sensitive, due to her cruelty and mistreatment of him. He never told me that she made him wear lacy maid's uniforms and forced him to perform as her sissy slave as well as a host of other degrading things, while he was growing up. I don't know if her anger towards me was remorse for what she had done or anger that she had lost her main source of entertainment, tormenting that poor guy. Her own brother," I swallowed hard and wiped my dripping eyes.

"It's a damn good thing she suicided or I'd have hunted her down and kill her with my bare hands!" Maggie declared, with such vehemence that I for one, was shocked.

"Don't you worry Diane, all of those terrors she tried to frighten you with, they aren't much different for you than any other girl. Of course you do have two advantages, most other women don't, though," Betty baited me.

"And what are they, prey tell?" I bit suspiciously.

"Well my dear, when you wear tight form fitting clothes, the kind we women wear that won't even allow you to hide a credit card? Men will nearly kill themselves to do things for you, just to see you smile at them. In addition, you could effectively hide a Mack 10 machine gun in your cleavage and no one would ever be able to tell! You'll never have to worry about drowning with your built in flotation devices," she started laughing and Maggie slugged her in the arm.

"Diane is too much of a lady to put you in your place little sister, but I'm not! You better not hurt her feelings again for the rest of the day or I'll pound you to Jell-O! Come here Diane, I'm going to hold you for the rest of the day, while big mouth here, goes and buys you some new clothes and undergarments," she wrapped her arms around me protectively.

She addressed Betty, "Now, if you want to redeem yourself missy you'll find a cloth measuring tape and help me put down some sizes for you to take with you on your Quest for the Holy custom made and undecidedly lacy, beautiful brassiere. Don't come back without at least being able to assure us that half a dozen of them are on order and that they will be spectacularly beautiful when they arrive."

"You will also come back with at least one sweat suit, large enough but not too overly large to provide Diane with some decent coverings that she will be able to wear in public until we can buy her a proper wardrobe. At best, come back with a beautiful dress that will make men for miles around ejaculate in their pants and faint dead away when they catch a glimpse of Diane in it. Do you understand your mission my sister and co-lesbian husband to our beloved little lesbian wife here?" Maggie ordered as if a general who is used to being in command of everything he views.

Betty jumped up with a, "Yes ma'am," ran to the living room where all of her possessions lay still stacked in boxes, returning quickly with a notepad and a measuring tape.

While she was gone, Maggie told me, "Don't worry honey, she won't look at this as punishment. Betty is a shop-aholic and will be in ecstasy all day doing this."

I stood with my arms held out shoulder high while they measured me and Maggie only had to punch Betty once for saying, "Holy Shit!" when she measured around my massive mammaries. (She didn't hit her hard because I giggled when she said it. That and she made her nurse on my boob as punishment until my knees started to give way, which means about three good sucks. She loved her punishment as much as I did. I'm not cheap, but damn I'm easy!)

After she left, Maggie and I cuddled and she did her best to convince me that I had done nothing wrong and that Samantha was just a really sick psychopath who was far better off dead. She further assured me that we would get a safe to keep the controller in and only I would have the combination.

She promised to devote her life to see to it that I enjoyed my forced womanhood as much as she enjoys being a woman and to being the best lesbian husband a sweet girl like me ever had. Then she threatened to divorce Betty if she didn't smarten up.

"Don't do that Maggie, who's going to protect us poor little ladies, but that big strong woman, Betty? I think I like it on this side of the protection better than the other side. But, you make sure that if Betty can't protect me for any reason that you don't blame her or my ghost will haunt you till the end of time, okay dear?" I clutched at her tightly.

"Don't you worry your pretty head Diane, I won't. I just hope that after two or three weeks we can still stand the smell in here cause I'm not calling the cops until that bitch is damn good and rotted," Maggie promised. "And if we are lucky her neighbors' noses will get one of them to call first."

"I think my friend would have like that," I agreed.

The End

Remote Control By Wholeman Rev. 1.0

Everything else is Copyright (c) 2002, by: Stone On the Moor LTD. Freely archived, copied, transmitted, and redistributed, printed, fantasized about or masturbated to or used to perpetuate marital bliss. (Just don't tell her you read this stuff)