Thread Rating:
  • 0 Vote(s) - 0 Average
  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • 4
  • 5
The Transition Pill Chapter 3 Revenge and Transitioning Back
#1
I wake up to my 2nd day as Anne.  As I lie in bed, my thoughts go back to last night and how I was mistreated by Steve.  But why did I go along with his presumption that I was a whore looking for a client?
Did the transition pill do that to me?
Is there something more darker to my id that turning into a woman brought out?  Perhaps but rather than continuing to ponder this, I think about what I can and will do to get back at him tonight.  I will be his escort tonight for a business dinner.   I only had one evening with Steve, last night, but I could see his mojo was about power and being in control.  Humiliation is not his kink and to leave him in a humiliated position would be the worst thing for him.


Before I leap into action, I need to have some personal funtime.  I lie in bed and use my wife’s vibrator on myself.  The sensation is amazing as I turn the vibrator to a mid setting.  The vibrator hums along as I work it around and over my clitoris.  The vibrations feel so wonderful and I am becoming so wet inside my vagina.  I feel my orgasm building...it feels as if I am tightening up inside.  I switch to the highest setting and the vibrator is humming loudly as I press it against my clitoris.  I am suddenly hit with an overpowering orgasm and I involuntarily squeeze my legs together as the sensations overwhelm me.  My orgasm dies away and I realize why we women can fall in love with our vibrators.  Wow!!! What did I just say…”we women”.  No matter….it’s on to business.


I slip into a robe and grab the phone I have assigned to Anne, to call a longtime friend.  As my male self Steve, I have known Deshawn since our days in college.  Deshawn is a guy who dabbled with mixing chemicals for human consumption if you get my drift.  Deshawn only gives out his number to those he knows AND is comfortable with.  I hope he doesn’t think my phone number isn’t some robo call.  A familiar voice answers the phone, “Hello”.
“Hi Deshawn.  This is….”, I pause.  “Gail”.  I can’t tell him I’m Steve, when I don’t look or sound like Steve.  I’m unsure if I want him to know my taken name of Anne.
“Who the hell are you?  This better be quick.”
“Deshawn, I got your name from your friend, Steve, who is a friend of mine too.  I need some medication and Steve said I could go to you.”
“I don’t know you.  I don’t know a Steve. Bye.”
“Wait Deshawn. I can prove I’m Steve’s friend.  Remember the time the police were going to come down on you for the incident at 84th street.  Steve covered for you, saying you were with him that night.”
“Shit, you could have gotten that off of some police report.”
“Yes, but a police report wouldn’t say that Steve set up a temporary online bank vault for you to transfer your med money to hide, while the police were searching you.  A report wouldn’t say that Steve helped you drop off a friend of yours….what was her name...Jamie, at the hospital emergency after taking too many of your meds….and then took you to Steve’s place to chill out and set up the cover story.”
There is a pause, then “What do you need?”
“I need a roofie that will dissolve in a drink and put a 300 pound man to sleep in a minute’s time.  And I need it today.”
“Hmmm, you want me to deliver it too, I suppose.”
“If you deliver it to me at Steve’s place, I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Oh, it’s gonna cost you…$6,000 is what it’s gonna cost you, especially on short notice.”
“That’s fine...see you at…”
“2:00”
“Ok.  Thank you.”


I pick out a pink Thalia Sodi pencil skirt to wear with a cream colored blouse and 3” heels for tonight’s dinner escort date.  I borrow some jewelry from my wife’s collection when the doorbell chimes.  I look at the clock and see it’s almost 2:00...must be Deshawn.  I walk to the front door, wrapped in a robe, and open it.  Deshawn stands before me.  He’s black, taller than me at about 6 foot, clean shaven, not a physically imposing specimen but built enough that I thought he was handsome looking.  Now as Anne, I look at him and think he’s even more handsome with his chocolate skin tone that I find to be beautiful looking.


“I’m Gail.  You must be….”
“Deshawn.  Is Steve around?”
“No.  Steve’s gone for awhile.  Did you bring me what I ordered?”
“Yeah.  Here”, and he hands be a single pill.
“This has to work or I’ll be in a whole lot of trouble.”
“Oh, it’ll work baby.  Usually, I make this for some loser who can’t pick up a chick with his loser charm.  What you doing with a roofie?”
“That’s my business but I aim to give the asshole who swallows this, what he deserves.”
“Mmmmm mmm. I don’t know what you have in mind but I sho don’t want to piss you off.  My money?”   I transfer the credits to Deshawn’s temporary vault account.


Deshawn looks at me in the robe.  With the belt cinched around my waist, my curvy form is displayed by the robe.  Deshawn puts his hands around my waist and pulls me tight to his frame.  “You know, you said you were going to make this quick transaction worth my time.”  I show no sign of resistance and rub the palms of my hands up and down on his chest.  “Well, Deshawn, I did say I would take care of you.  I’m not sure what I could do for you.  Any ideas?”  I already feel the stiff bulge growing in his pants, as I am held tightly against him.  I look up into his brown eyes but then close them as he leans into me and our mouths clench together.  His hand slips inside my robe and he cups my breast with it, playing with my breast and rolling my nipple between his thumb and finger.  I feel a surge of tingly feelings down below.  Our mouths release and I look from his eyes to his chest.  I unbutton his shirt and we remove it.  I like the feel of the bristly hair on his chest as I rub it.  I reach to his belt to undo it and release the waist of his pants.  As I unzip his trousers, he uses his feet to pop off each shoe.  His trousers fall to his ankles and feeling the bulge in his exposed underwear, I now realize the size of him.  I gasp as I reach inside his briefs and my hand grasps a large growing black dick.  I pull his underwear to his ankles and he steps out of his clothes with my help.  As I stand up,  Deshawn disrobes me and I enjoy the contrast of the colors of our skin, white versus brown, and greet his mouth with mine once again.  Our hands passionately reach for each other, his rubbing my vulva while I stroke him into complete rigidity.  Deshawn has been in Steve’s home prior and knows exactly where to take me as he leads me to the bedroom.  We lie down next to each other and kiss passionately.  I assume a submissive role, lying on my back, as his kisses move from mouth, to neck, to breasts.  Gently he kisses around my areolas and then sucks them.  I feel those tingly feelings down below again as he then kisses down my stomach until he reaches my vulva.  He knows what he is doing, concentrating his kisses at and sucking on my clitoris.  I feel my orgasm building but desire the feeling of his BBC inside me.  As he kisses and sucks on my wet hole, I raise my legs in the air and spread them wide.  “Oh baby, that is beautiful”, he says as he kneels up between my open thighs.  Deshawn needs no encouragement or direction as he gently lowers himself on top of me, his arms to either side as he slides into my welcoming, wet vagina.  Slowly he slides all the way inside me as I utter a soft moan, my knees bent so that I wrap my legs around him.  He alternates kissing my mouth and my neck, my arms around his back.  My hands and legs match the rhythm of his thrusts, pulling him towards me with each inward plunge and releasing him so that he may withdraw for the next stroke of his cock.  I urge him onward, “Oh God, Deshawn, faster, ohhhh, harder” and he complies by increasing the pace of his thrusts.  Deshawn’s physical endurance is being tested as he breaks out in a hard sweat, as do I, the primal need to copulate pushing us onward.  After what seems like several minutes, a strong orgasm washes over me and I cry out.  My orgasm subsides but he has yet to cum so I squeeze my Kegel muscles, applying pressure as best I can to bring him on.  Finally, a loud groan announces his orgasm as he releases his seed inside me, sending his sperm on a frenzied but fruitless swim into my vagina and uterus.  He thrusts several times more in pleasure until his sweaty body collapses onto me.  I lie in a post-orgasmic daze, wondering to myself what Deshawn would think if he knew he has just fucked a good friend.  I laugh, partially at the thought of this, maybe mostly at the pleasure I got out of this.  He looks at me quizzically and I assure him, “Deshawn my dear, you make me feel so good inside.”  He smiles, “Gail, I’ll make you feel good every day, if you’ll just let me.”  My fingers glide up and down his back but I must get ready for what’s to come tonight.  “Time for you to go, my dear”, I announce and he withdraws, his semen now leaking out of me.   He cleans up, dresses and I give him a kiss goodbye at the door.  Deshawn says “If you ever need help with somethin’, you got my number.  I put your number in my contacts, Gail.”
“Thank you hon.”, and he goes.  I would love to tell Deshawn that it’s Steve he just fucked.  That’ll wait for another time.  I wonder if he seriously meant what he said.  Did I actually witness the influence that I, a woman, can sway with a man by using her femininity?  Maybe so.


I quickly shower, then lay a towel over the chair before the makeup mirror.  Deshawn must have been really horny.  I’m still leaking a lot so I use the towel to soak up his semen as I apply my makeup while seated.  I get dressed and gather up what I need for tonite….several lengths of twine, duct tape, 8” dildo and most importantly the roofie….into my purse.  Next I Uber it to the hotel lobby to meet Steve.


I arrive and Steve is waiting for me.   “Anne, it’s great to have you here.  We’ll have dinner in the hotel restaurant with two businessmen.  Remember now, converse with them but let me control the conversation and how it goes.”  Like I said before, this Steve is a bit of a control freak.  I think I’ll piss him off a little and do my own thing at the table.   So it’s off to the restaurant where I am introduced to Jack Wilson, owner of a medium size biomedical company and Andrew Timms, Jack’s financial VP.
Jack looks at me and comments, “Ms. Preuss, my dear, it is a pleasure to meet such a lovely lady.”
“Why, thank you, Mr. Wilson.”
“Please, call me Jack.”  Jack is charming for a man of his position who looks to be close to 70 years old.
“By all means, please call me Anne.”  We are seated at a table.  The wine flows, meals are ordered.


Jack asks Steve, “So Steve, given that our company is at a threshold with new technology emerging that can replicate human tissue, do you really think that your company can help us stay relative with our products that aid burn victims?”
Steve answers, “Mr. Wilson, our marketing department will develop a campaign to convince healthcare givers that your company’s products are necessary to ensure that burn victims are getting the best treatment.”
Time for me to piss Steve off a bit.  “Frankly, Mr. Wilson….Jack….you’ve got a problem on your hands.”
“Oh?  Why do you say that, Anne?”
“There is new technology out there that is using human DNA to restore or change human tissue, allowing it to replicate itself into its original form.  Results are supposedly temporary but if they can formulate their technology to produce permanent results, your company may become obsolete down the road.”
“Yes, Ms. Preuss...Anne...that is exactly what I was referring to.  Steve, you didn’t tell me that you were with such an interesting and intelligent companion.”
Steve shoots me a quick glare, “Oh she’s full of surprises.  Now regarding…”
I cut Steve off, “But Steve’s marketing group can help you stay relevant by showing how your product can be used to support the other technology.”  My knowledge about Transformation Services Express, the company that has transformed me, is a boon to my ability to take control of the table conversation away from Steve.  I can see from his demeanor that he is really pissed about this, even though I have enlightened this potential customer of Steve’s, how they could collaborate and generate new business.  The conversation continues, Steve intervenes to work his way into the forefront of the conversation but I have accomplished at the table what I wanted to do...weaken his status but still keep him relevant to his customer.  Meals are eaten, the third wine bottle has been emptied.  Conversation is drawing to a close.
Jack Wilson looks at Steve, “Steve, this has been a very enlightening conversation.  I think there is business to be done with you but we need to rethink our marketing campaign.”
“Steve dear”, I say, “I left my key in the room.  Can you please be a dear and give me yours?”
I get an icy stare and he hands me the key.  “See you soon.”


I step inside Steve’s suite and head straight to the self service bar.  He likes whiskey sours and I’m sure he will be wanting one after my little act at the dinner table.  I grab a glass, a small self serve bottle of whiskey from the bar and sour.  I hold off on the ice as I need to mix this first.  I stir the whiskey and sour, then drop the roofie into the drink.  I stir and watch as the roofie dissolves.  Now, I put a little ice into it.  A knock on the door...I have his key and he needs me to let him in.  The drink will temporarily distract his anger towards me, I hope.  I open the door.


“What the fuck do you think you were doing?”  Anger is written all over his face.
“Steve, honey, here I fixed you your favorite, a whiskey sour.”  He grabs it from me, slopping some of it onto the floor.  Damn, that was close.  I should have bought an emergency spare roofie from Deshawn.  He raises the glass to his mouth and chugs the drink completely, setting the glass with only ice remaining, onto a table.  So far, so good.
“You little bitch, you.”
“Now Steve, I actually helped you out.  Jack Wilson sees how he can use your company in a different way and you’ll get just as much if not more business.”
“I oughta hold out the remaining 5,000 I owe you.”
“We had a deal.  And I can be of further help to you.”
“How?”
“First, my 5,000.”
He hesitates but then pulls out his phone.  He accesses his account and I give him a pin number to transfer the 5,000 to my open vault.  Before he closes his account, I approach him seductively, rubbing his chest with my left hand while I grab his phone with my right and set his phone on the table.  As I turn to look back at him, my face is greeted by his open palm.  He slaps me hard, knocking me to the floor.  I am stunned and in pain, tears run down my cheeks as I start to cry.  I now know why this abusive son of a bitch is divorced.  I put my hand to the side of my face where he struck me and my cheek stings.  I don’t know if another blow is coming as I look up.  Steve walks up to me, unzipping his pants.  He grabs me by the hair and pulls me along the floor.  I stumble in my heels trying to get my balance.  If I was my male self, I might have a chance to defend myself even though he was still taller and heavier.  But as Anne, I am physically weaker as a woman and I fear for my safety.


He sits in a chair, pulling me by the hair towards his groin.  “Here, you little bitch.  You want to be in control?  You can suck on this and be in control.”  He pulls my head towards his dick.  In fear, I open my mouth and he violently plunges into it, facefucking me.  I suck his cock, not for pleasure but out of fear of further injury.  I do it to hopefully keep him from hitting me again...there is no pleasure for me, his pleasure coming from the power he thinks he has over me.  Why isn’t the roofie taking effect?  My head bobs up and down over his dick and he releases his grip on my hair.  From his POV perspective, if he were looking downward, he would see a pretty woman, mascara streaking down her cheeks, a welt growing on the side of her face and her lips wrapped around his dick.  But as I look up, I see his head tilted back and he is unconscious.  I remove his cock from my mouth and collect my senses for a moment.


It’s a struggle for me but I manage to drag him to the side of the bed, and pull him onto it.  I undress him and first thing I do is test his unconsciousness.  I give him a good slap to the side of his face for good measure.  My hand stings from slapping him but not a peep from him.  Good.  I set up my phone for pictures to take of him.  I pull out the dildo and lube the tip of it, not because I’m concerned about hurting him.  No, I want to make sure I can initially get it into his rectum.  I work the tip into his ass and I push it violently into his rectum, just as violently as he raped my mouth...bastard!!!  There is some tearing and bleeding but I don’t care.  I take my lipstick and write ‘woman beater asshole’ on his ass cheeks.   Then, I use the timer feature on my phone to take several pictures of him with me, with that 8” long dildo shoved up inside his ass.  Once I’m done with the pics, I use the twine to tie up his ankles and wrists to the bedposts.  I take a few more pictures of him tied up.  Just to be sure the dildo doesn’t work its way out of him, I apply several long pieces of duct tape across the end of the dildo and onto his ass cheeks.  Enjoy getting that off, you woman beating motherfucker.  I am done taking pictures that I now have for blackmailing if he should ever track me down.


Now for the pièce de résistance.  I grab his phone.  Good, I took it from him before he had a chance to shut off access to his account.  Checking his account, I am surprised by the amount, 432,836.17.  Before he hit me hard, I wasn’t going to take so much of his money.  But he really hurt me and made me angry.  I make the transfer...432,000.  Fuck you asshole, enjoy your 800 plus change.  I shut off his phone and put it down.  Time for me to go.  I crawl onto the bed next to Steve. “Stevie, baby” I coo to him.  “You have such a tiny dick...time for me to go.”  I smile at the thought of that old saying, ‘Hell hath no fury like that of a woman scorned’.


But suddenly, I am becoming groggy.  I look over at the clock.  9:15 pm.  “Oh shit. Wait.  I don’t change until I fall asleep, right?”  I try to lift myself away from him...I have to get out of here.  I collapse on top of him and can barely move.  The room seems to be awkwardly shifting about, spinning.  My eyelids get heavier and I fall asleep.



I’m lying on top of Steve.  I roll off him onto the bed.  I slowly open my eyes and try to focus.  My feet are sore, my toes feel squished and the heels of my feet are outside of my high heels.  I kick them off and roll out of bed.  I look at Steve and he is still tied at the ankles and to the bedposts and out like a light.   I shuffle to the bathroom and stand before the sink and mirror.  Turning on the faucet, I cup my hands to fill them with water.  My hands...they’re not slender like before.  I look up at the mirror.  Oh FUCK!!!!  The pixie style of hair is the same but it sits on top of the head of a 62 year old man wearing makeup.  Broad shoulders.  I hurry back into the room.  What time is it?  7:20 am.  Damn, I gotta get out of here.  I try to put on the heels but my feet have reverted back to my larger man size of 9.  No wonder the shoes worked their way off my heels and my toes got squished.  Steve starts to stir.  He’ll start yelling any time soon, I think.  I pick up my purse and the shoes.  Phone’s in the purse.  Good.  Have to walk in my nylon feet, I guess.  I exit the suite but leave the door slightly open for the cleaning crew to enter and find Steve.  I walk down the hallway but shelter my face using my purse.  I’d rather the security cameras did not get a good look at my face if Steve starts an investigation.  The workers in the hallway look at me strangely as I make my way to the elevator...you mean you haven’t seen a man dressed as a woman before?


As I get on the elevator, I call my friend Michelle Larson.  Michelle transitioned a number of years ago and I knew her before the transition.  She’s frequently about the area in her car for work.  I’m calling on my Anne Preuss phone so I hope she doesn’t ignore the number calling.  She answers, thank God.  “Hello?”
“Michelle, it’s Steve.  Are you near the Hilton Hotel downtown?”
“Sort of.  Why?”
“Huge favor.  I need you to come here now and pick me up at the front of the chinese restaurant, two doors down.”
“Steve, I’m busy driving to my first call of the day for work.”
“Michelle, I need you in the worst way possible.  I’ll make it up to you. I’ll be in front, wearing a pink pencil skirt and cream colored blouse with a pixie haircut.”
“What?”
“Michelle, no time for answering questions.”
“Ok, I’m on my way.”


I walk in my nylon feet to the restaurant.  Gotta get away from the hotel.  As I stand there, people walk by and give me the strangest looks.  I must look like the Joker from Batman, mascara streaked down my cheeks from crying.  I touch my face and it hurts.  Hmmm, transitioning back to my male self did not heal the bruising that Steve gave me with that slap.  As I stand there, I try to stay turned towards the restaurant so passersby don’t get a look at my face.  Finally, a car pulls up and honks its horn.  I climb inside and look at Michelle.  Her mouth is open and she has that ‘What the fuck happened to you?’ look on her face.  Before she says a word, I utter, “you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
Michelle hits the accelerator and we move onward.  “Well, try me.”   So I go back to the beginning about my meeting with the company and all I had been through with the transition, my initial meeting with Steve, the dinner, the scene in Steve’s suite afterwards.   Michelle is a beautiful transgender girl, maybe a bit innocent so I leave out the part about stealing Steve’s money.  No need to drag her into that part of my world but she does enjoy the part about dildo fucking a woman beater and taping the dildo in place to his ass.


We pull up to my home and Michelle asks, “Are you ok?  Do you want me to come in?”
“Thank you Michelle, but no, not now.  This is all behind me now.”  So she gives me a big hug and I get out.  She drives off and I go inside before some nosey neighbor sees me.  I settle into a chair and send an encrypted message from my Anne Preuss phone to Steve.  I have one of the pictures as an attachment with the message ‘Make any effort to track me down and all the pictures go to everyone in the company you work for’.  That’s gotta make him pause and think about his situation.  I transfer all the pictures to a microchip for safekeeping and destroy the phone.  I cannot believe what I just did, what I have been through.  Was I really in control of myself?  Or was I, as Anne, in control and my male alter ego was just a bystander in all this?  I have such mixed emotions over this.  Am I now a final mixture of the two...my male self and Anne Preuss?  Or is Anne gone?  I have questions about what has happened.  I need to go to the offices at TSE, Inc and talk to them.  And falling asleep when I did….I thought the process waited until I fell asleep.  I need to get things squared away.   I go into the bathroom and clean off my makeup and shower.  I see a little bit of swelling on my face with some black and blue.  I really don’t feel bad about what I did to him.   He deserved it.  Any motherfucker that hits a woman should get the medicine I dished out to him.  I dress and jump into my Tesla XKE.  Down the road I go but I don’t notice the car that is following me.



Coming up….Chapter 4 - Earth Angel or Angel Of Death?
Heart 
Anne
Reply


Forum Jump:


Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)