“Would you like to have a pussy, Ashley?”
Her words echoed in my head, almost painfully loud in my suddenly silent brain. No more music, no more whispers, just my own thoughts and her words.
It took me a few seconds to even wrap my head around what she was asking. After all this time (had it only been a few days?) thinking for myself was difficult. The whispers and the music had helped me along, pushing me in the right direction so that I no longer had to form my own ideas. The right thoughts, the correct thoughts, the ones I ought to be thinking had just been there, ready for me. Because of this, my mind had atrophied in a way, like a muscle weak with disuse.
Finally though, I whipped my thoughts into some semblance of motion and realized what she had just said to me.
“A-A what?” I blurted out, my new voice sounding tinny and unfamiliar in my ears. Had the music been blocking this out too, making it sound natural for this voice to be coming from my throat? Objectively, it sounded perfectly normal, your average girl’s voice with a hidden edge of constant joy and laughter. But it didn’t sound like my voice, in the way it had only moments before.
“A pussy, Ashley. We at Her Point of View are prepared to offer you Genital Reassignment Surgery gratis, using similar measures to the other procedures you have undertaken. You will be rendered unconscious, and the process will be over in a matter of hours. If you consent, you will wake up and find that your penis has been replaced by a lovely pussy. Do you understand?”
“No I don’t understand!” I was shouting now, angry in a way I couldn’t entirely explain. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Her Point of View is an entirely opt-in experience. Whatever complaints you may have, we assure you that you are doing this entirely to yoursel-”
I interrupted her, something I had never done before. Something I’d never have dared to do if I wasn’t so incandescently angry.
“Not that! I know I opted in to this! I chose this for myself and I don’t regret a single thing,” I yelled, startled by my rage. Where was this coming from? It was true though. Strange as it seemed, even without whatever they had done to my head, I had been happy. Happier than I’d ever been before. My body, for the first time in my life, felt like my own. I had great friends, people I could spend a day talking to and then go home and get my brains fucked out with. And the sex… my god, the sex was amazing. This whole program had been the best thing that had ever happened to me.
“Then what’s wrong, Ashley? Why are you so upset?” She sounded genuinely curious. It was the first time I’d ever noticed her voice having any emotion to it at all. I marveled at how I could ever have thought this was some computer program, an interface to the website. Whoever I was talking to, she was a real person.
Sobbing, I spoke, barely able to form words through the tears. “Why are you making me think again? I don’t like it. I want the music back. I want the whispers back.”
There was a long pause before she said anything. “You want to go back to being told what to think?” The puzzlement from before was still there, accompanied by something that could almost have been awe.
“Yes. Please. This is too hard. Why would do this to me? Why would you make me so happy, make my life so easy and simple so that I never had to worry again, and then take it all away? How could you be so cruel?”
Another pause. “We… I wanted you to make this decision for yourself. I thought, after all that I’d done to you, that you at least deserved to make that choice. The real you. Not the one I’ve constructed.”
“That is the real me, damn you!” I screamed at her, my voice cracking in the middle.
It must have been a solid minute of silence, my breathing harsh and hoarse from the strain, before she spoke again. “I’m… confused. What do you mean? You must know that all these things you’ve been doing, that’s been me. My website, my instructions, my hypnotic commands. How can that be the real you?”
I tried to calm my breathing, to force it back into a manageable pattern. “I know that. I’m not an idiot. As soon as you took it all away I realized what had been going on. But at the same time, I realized that I missed it. I missed the voices telling me what to do. I missed every choice being easy, and feeling confident in every decision I make. That’s who I want to be, the girl who knows what she wants and takes it. My god, the sheer joy I got from obeying all those people online? It was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It wasn’t just sexual, it was this sort of profound fulfillment. And now, nothing. I’m hollow, empty, where before I had purpose. I want to go back. You can’t make me choose like this, because what if I choose the wrong thing? What if when I’ve made my choice and you give me the music back I realize it’s not what I want? Are you just going to leave me there, filled with regret for the rest of my life? I assume from the way you phrased it that this will only last long enough for me to make a decision, that you’re not going to leave me like this permanently.” I paused in my diatribe, suddenly stricken. “You’re not going to leave me like this permanently are you? Please, please don’t. I’ll do anything you want.”
“No. No. The plan was to let you make the decision as yourself and then return your conditioning.” She spoke slowly now, thoughtfully.
“If you want me to make this decision as myself, you have to put me back. This isn’t me anymore, and I never want it to be me again.” Finally composed and with my emotions back under control, I stared straight at my webcam determinedly.
“Very well, Ashley. If that it was you want.”
And then suddenly, everything was back to normal. The music played softly in my ears, the whispers spoke to me and told me that everything was going to be okay. There was absolutely nothing to worry about. A dreamy smile played across my lips.
“Thank you ma’am! That’s much better now.” My voice sounded natural in my ears again, peppy and cheery. The way it was supposed to be.
“If you’re sure, Ashley.” Her voice started out almost apprehensive, but returned to its usual emotionless monotone by the time she finished speaking.
“Then, would you like to have a pussy?”
I thought about it for a moment. The whispers helped a lot. “Yes I think so!” I smiled as I said it. I was making the right decision.
“Very well. Then sleep.”
Before the words “Yes ma’am” could make their way out of my mouth, I was unconscious.
# # #
I woke up and didn’t feel any pain, which was a surprise in and of itself. From everything I’d heard about this sort of thing, I should be in agony right about now. Unless I’d been asleep for about a month, which didn’t seem likely. I raised my head up sleepily from where it had rested during the procedure, and left behind a small puddle of drool that had accumulated.
“Congratulations Ashley. Your final procedure on your way to seeing things from Her Point of View is now complete. You’re almost finished with the 7-step program. You’ve done very well”
A rush of joy filled me at the praise, and I sat up excitedly to look at my laptop. When I did however, I noticed that something was different. Where previously I had always felt the presence of my junk between my legs, especially when I moved, now I felt nothing there at all. I rubbed my legs together, and there was no cock between them, no balls getting in the way.
I almost ripped my jeans in my rush to peel them off, but managed it with no clothing casualties. And there it was. My brand new pussy.
It was perfect. Completely smooth to show off my pretty pink lips, and a tiny nub poking out that sent shivers through my body as soon as I brushed it with a finger. Almost involuntarily, my finger made its way back my new clit and began to stroke in slow, smooth circles around it. I moaned with pleasure, and felt the music surge in response.
Then, she began to speak. “That’s a good girl Ashley. It’s very important that you touch yourself for me now. Do you think you can keep doing that?”
I nodded in response, and started my finger circling faster and faster, pushing harder against the slick flesh between my legs, feeling the nub of my clit grow harder and harder. It was just like a dick really. Except, of course, that touching it almost made my legs go numb.
“Very good girl. This is the final step in your journey. You’re a perfect slut now, aren’t you Ashley?”
I moaned, a long low sound that echoed the pleasure sweeping through me.
“That’s right, and what does a slut need? Start finger-fucking yourself for me, Ashley. Not too fast now. We don’t want you to cum yet, do we?”
I obeyed, sliding two of my fingers into my now soaking folds, feeling them enter into me, and began to slowly fuck myself, in and out. In, and out. My thumb took over the circles, sweeping ever so close to my aching clit but not quite touching it. I wasn’t allowed to cum yet.
“A slut needs a mistress, Ashley. You need a mistress. It would be very irresponsible to make you into such a good slut -faster now, Ashley. Good girl- and leave you to your own devices. You need to be taken care of.”
My moans came louder and more frequently now, the pleasure emanating from my dripping cunt forcing them out of me. I fucked myself faster, obeying the voice’s commands.
“Notice how I said Mistress, Ashley. Not Master. Of course, you’re allowed to fuck men, and to let men fuck you, but we both know that what you really crave is a Mistress, a powerful woman to take control of you. Someone who will own you. Say that for me, Ashley. ‘I need a Mistress. I need to find a woman to own me.’”
I repeated the words back to her, heavily interspersed with gasps of pleasure and open-mouthed silences as my fingers brought me repeatedly to the edge of orgasm, then slowed just enough to stop me from going over. “I need a Mistress. I need to find a woman to own me.”
“And who is that Mistress, Ashley? Who do you think you should belong to? Who has this all been for?”
Through teeth gritted shut from the spasms that suffused me, I said her name. “Elena.”
“Cum for me, Ashley.”
And I did. My whole body shook with it, the pent-up tension exploding in a moment that lasted for an eternity. My vision went white, and I saw stars as I screamed out over and over the name of my Mistress. Of the woman who was going to own me. “Elena! Elena! Elena!”
Finally, my body relaxed, spent, and I ceased my exclamations of ecstasy.
“Very good Ashley. I’m afraid there’s nothing more I have to teach you. You have completed the Her Point of View program. I suggest you go find your Mistress as soon as you are able to stand.”
“Ma’am?” I asked, my voice quiet.
There was a very long pause. “You’re very welcome Ashley. I hope you find joy in your new life.”
“Don’t worry ma’am. I will. I’m going off to find her now”
And with that, I closed the lid of my laptop, turning away from the website that had changed my life, and headed out the door.
Only after I noticed the third person gawking at me did I realize I’d forgotten to put my jeans back on.
# # #
One quick change and fifteen minutes of purposeful walking later, I realized I had no idea where I was going. I didn’t have Elena’s address. All I knew was that she was also a student at my college.
But wait a moment. I had her phone number. She had scrawled it on my arm at the bar, what seemed like so long ago. So I could let her know I had made it home safely. Ouch.
My finger was on the send button, ready to ask her if she wanted to meet up, when I paused. Did I want her to know it was me? I’d changed a lot, from that slightly feminine boy with the shoulder-length hair to the brunette beauty with perky tits, a sultry smile, and a tight ass. And, I reminded myself with a grin, a brand new snatch.
How would that conversation go? “Yeah Elena, I was so in love with you after one night I decided to turn myself into a girl?” Yeah, no. It came off creepy at best, and mentally disturbed stalker at worst. But what would I say?
Then, I had it. I’d send the text I had planned, then go, just as normal. Except, when I got there, I wouldn’t tell her that I was me. I’d just be some girl, wandering past the same place, striking up conversation. With any luck, she’d be so enamored with the new me that we could go from there. For all Elena would know, “Ash” would just have stood her up.
So that’s what I did. I texted her, asking if she liked to hang out. She responded quickly and enthusiastically, so much so that I thought she might be taking pity on me. It made a kind of sense. From her point of view, she’d rejected me, I’d gone home, and disappeared off the map for almost a week. Still, I’d take what I could get. We agreed to meet in the same bar as before. My determined yet directionless striding had taken me in the opposite direction, so it seemed likely she’d arrive before me.
Sure enough, when I got there, Elena was sitting at the bar, sipping some cocktail I didn’t know the name of. Whatever it was, it was a lovely lavender color, with a little purple umbrella sticking out the top.
Elena herself was just as stunning as I remembered her, if not moreso. There’s a strange trick the mind plays on you with truly beautiful people. You convince yourself that they are surely not as beautiful as you think, no one could be that pretty. The booze and the rose-colored glasses are making you misremember, or so you tell yourself. And then, when you meet them again, there is a shock, as you come in with purposefully lowered expectations and they exceed them, and even exceed the image you told yourself was too good to be true. That it what it was like with Elena. I stood at the entrance of the bar, struck motionless by her beauty.
Her red hair hung in gossamer waves across her back, a perfect contrast to her smooth white skin and the dark blue of her top, the kind of shirt whose neck slid off one shoulder to hang loosely on her frame. It did nothing to disguise the fullness of her breasts, which stood proudly on her chest, the fabric bunching around them in a way that only enhanced their shape rather than diminishing it. This all lead down to the shortest pair of jean shorts I’d ever seen, which exposed almost the whole length of her creamy pale legs.
Elena turned to check the door, gazing through me with those sapphire blue eyes. I stared back, dumbfounded, until she turned back to her drink. Of course. She wasn’t looking for me. Well, she was, but she was looking for the me who had been.
Mustering up my courage, I went to the bar and sat down next to her. “Hi there!” I said cheerfully, my best smile on my face. “Who’re you waiting for?”
She arched an eyebrow at me playfully and smiled back. “What makes you think I’m waiting for anyone?” I’d forgotten how the purr of her voice resonated through my body. I shivered with delight.
“Weeeeeellllllllll,” I said, drawing out the word, my tone playful “I assume that’s the only reason a lovely lady like yourself would have ignored me like that. Don’t think I don’t know, madam. My gaydar is finely tuned.”
She laughed at that, a high clear sound bells. “You’ve got me I’m afraid. I’m waiting for a friend of mine.”
“Ah, just my luck,” I said, enjoying the back and forth. The conversation was much easier this time, and the whispers told me what to say. “All the gorgeous girls are taken.”
“No, no, not that kind of friend. It’s a guy.”
It was my turn to arch an eyebrow at her. “Well, I take it if you’re waiting for a guy by yourself on a beautiful day like today, you must be single.”
She laughed again. “Yes, alas. I am alone.”
“Want me to change that?”
And that was all it took.
# # #
Fifteen minutes later we were in her apartment, and Elena was ripping my clothes off. She was aggressive, ferocious, demanding, everything I wanted her to be. When I tried to pull at that loose top and get a closer look at the breasts I’d been dreaming about, she grabbed my hand forcefully, pushing it away.
“Now now. Good girls wait for permission.” She said, winking at me. I almost melted right there.
We made our way to the bed, and I ended up beneath her, my arms tied to the bed, my legs spread open. Elena looked down at me, her eyes gleaming with lust. I looked back up at her, my eyes worshipful.
I made to speak, and she immediately brought her finger to my lips. “Shhhh, now. I want you to stay as quiet as you can.”
Her hand moved away, and she slowly, maddeningly slowly brought her head down beneath my legs, until her mouth was positioned bare inches from my dripping wet cunt. I could feel her warm breath tickling my sex.
Without warning, she buried her face in my pussy, licking fast and hard, then slow and sensual, switching between the two as she pleased, driving me crazy with the pleasure. It was the first time I’d been eaten out. Thankfully, it would not be the last.
I struggled to contain my moans, but when I couldn’t hold it in anymore, she pulled away. Not long, just for a moment. Just long enough so that I got the message. If I didn’t stay quiet, if I wasn’t a good girl - I gave a pleasant shudder, just thinking of her saying those words to me-, the pleasure would go away. I nodded to show my understanding, and Elena immediately went back to licking my clit, with light, fast strokes that had me cumming within seconds.
We were a perfect match. Not only was my dream girl smart and funny and gorgeous, she wanted to take control the way I needed to be taken. She craved being a master as much as I craved being a slave.
After perhaps my seventh orgasm, when my body could take no more, she drew away, and began to untie me. I protested with incoherent sounds, as I was no longer capable of words. She shushed me again, and I fell silent. After a moment, she lay next to me on the bed, pulling me close to her.
“That was amazing, Elena,” I panted out, “but shouldn’t I return the favor?”
“You’re exhausted, pet,” she replied. “Save it for next time.”
“But I want to eat you out and make you cum on my face!”
“Pet,” she said, and her voice had a reprimanding tone to it that was belied by the grin that split her face. I fell obediently silent, and enjoyed the feeling of her skin against mine.
“So there’s going to be a next time?” I asked, after a few minutes.
“Pet. Now that I’ve got you, there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go. You’re mine now. My girl.”
I rolled over to kiss her, and she kissed me back softly and lovingly. “Go to sleep now, pet.”
“Yes Mistress.” And I obeyed, the music and the whispers and the sound of Elena’s soft breathing lulling me to sleep.