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A crossdresser's journey of transition.

"Oh, Simon you know how to dominate a woman. Turn me on, send me right up the wall. Now, NOW SIMON!"

It felt as if I was climbing up that wall brick by brick with every slow slide in and out of the dildo, every rising wave of stimulation in my rear end, then the three electrodes he had fitted made their presence felt, 'Zzzinnnng zzzinnnng' on my clit, fingers grabbing at my labia as if they were being squeezed in a vise. The sensation felt as if they were being pulled down and stretched, by now, to near my knees.

Simon unscrewed the electrified pear, removing it from my tortured love tunnel then I sensed him move up close. I'd never measured him, but I knew that Simon's driver at full erection was something like seven centimetres in diameter and thirty centimetres from the tip to his balls.

"Are you ready?" He nestled the point of his prong against my lips then "here we go" and thrust inside me with all his might.

"Simon, please let . . . please let me come."

"You can come now, come for me my darling."

He pounded into me with all his might, the friction around my lips and inside my vagina sending me into a frenzy. My scream seemed to go on forever then I felt him explode, his spend gushing against my cervix, joining with my squirts as it oozed out of my vagina and down the inside of my legs.

* * * *

Mary's Story

Simon's little meeting had done nothing extra to convince the three of us to purchase any of his medical equipment. We all knew it was good quality, but for some indefinable reason the man came over as a sleaze.

His knowledge of his subject and of the particular needs in our various specialities was masterful, but we sensed a poorly disguised animosity to any woman who dared to 'wear the pants', or who, as in Jane and Fran's case, preferred the attentions of their own gender.

The visit of the girl from UniSexSensuality and meeting Helene had been the high point of that morning and the presentation of a Valued Customer card to each of us was an unexpected boon. So, on Wednesday afternoon I walked tiredly along the street in the direction I had been given.

'You can't miss it,' my guide had said, and there it was, just around the corner from Hetherington's. Very convenient for Helene I thought.


Well someone had been original and from the massive plate glass doors and marble frontage someone also had plenty of money.

The girl I remembered handing out the VC cards at Hetherington's now looked more assured, dressed in her charcoal slacks and neat lavender jacket.

"Oh Dr. Johnson, welcome! I'm so glad you could come, would you follow me please."

"You're Monica aren't you, call me Mary. I feel I'm going to be among friends here. What a lovely salon."

"Mmm, yes, but this part here is for the plebs," she whispered, "we go in there." She pointed to the 'VC Lounge - Private'.

I paused at the doorway of a superbly appointed lounge, "if only the doctor's lounges at the hospital could offer us this comfort." I didn't realise I'd spoken aloud.

"Mary, you really look, as they say, 'done in'. What about having a soak in the spa to relax you? Then we'll do your shampoo and set and finish off with the manicure."

"You're so right Monica. Delivering babies and operating isn't what you'd call a 'desk job'. I've been on these feet since six this morning."

"Right, strip off. There's a shift there for you to slip into when you're done, towels over here. And don't bother about putting your undies back on, you'll find a complimentary set in there, plenty of sizes. I guess you'd be about a 28 brief and 36DD?"

"How did you guess?"

"Oh in this profession you get smart at sizing up customers," she chuckled, "maybe for my next job I'll be a fitter in a lingerie and foundation garment store!"

The spa was heavenly.

2019 © All Rigths Reserved. All models were 0ver 18 y.o.