June 30th, 2010 | 
Author: Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
desire but with envy at Francesca's malevolent beauty. "Our doll has developed a mind of her own. Tell us, sweet thing, what kind of girl are you?" Francesca said, as she lifted the long skirt and held it up, briefly exposing the newly modest parts of Stephen's anatomy. Stephen blushed deeply, a response befitting his quiet, country girl demeanor. The girls loved it. Carlotta said nothing. "It's getting warm in here isn't it, girls," Francesca said, letting the dress fall and pulling off her sweater and urging the other girls to do the same. She wore a very revealing brassiere that cupped her breasts seductively. Soon all the girls had stripped to their pretty bras and panties and surrounded their country queen taunting him with their nubile and luscious bodies. Carlotta remained on the bed but after a hopeful look from Stephen, she too removed her blouse, exposing her black bra and captivating cleavage. While Stephen watched, as in a trance, she unhooked her brassiere and coyly dropped it off the side of the bed. Then, as though she had just discovered them for the first time, she cupped her breasts lovingly, pinching the nipples and caressing them with a great tenderness. The other girls followed suit and soon Stephen was encircled by a chorus of licentious nymphs each trying to outdo the other in their enticing charms. As the dance reached the apogee of lustful desire Francesca pulled up Stephen's skirt while Nancy yanked down the fanny padder disclosing the throbbing information that Francesca had wanted to extract from him all along. As Bonnie's camera clicked away and Francesca gloated, Carlotta leaned back on the bed, her long black hair undone and falling over her naked shoulders. Stephen looked tearfully at her as she mouthed the words, "Mommy thinks you're a very pretty girl." It was the end of the first girl's club.During the week following that first terrifying encounter with the power of womanhood Stephen agonized over every minute of his tormented transformation and its cruel denouement. What upset him most was not the humiliation he suffered at their hands but his surrender to his own girlish beauty. The seduction of his own femininity was far more disturbing to him than Carlotta's rejection. Not that he was aware of this of course. A searing pain that encompassed the entire event was all he felt but each night in his dreams he returned to the mirror and was served with the same vision of pony-tailed sweetness, of his own Barby doll portrait of Dorian Gray. In the morning the images of himself as a radiant teenage girl were gone and in their place only the residue of heavy guilt. The night before the meeting he found himself once again in the bathroom shaving his legs and arms. But this time his skin tingled not with the suspense of being discovered but at the sheer excitement of the act itself, the first step in a transformation
Posted in Sex stories