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She came home laden with packages. That in itself was different,
because she nearly always bought her things by mail order.  

I kissed her. "Buy yourself lots of goodies?"  

She gave me a hard look. "No. Bought *you* lots of goodies...
`Pervette'!"  

Oh, my God.  

"Yes. I've been reading your files. Now I know what you're up to when
my back is turned. `Princess Pervette'- -that's your femme name, is it?
Forcibly feminized? Is that what you want? Well, you asked for it and
you're getting it!"  

This was either going to be a dream come true or a nightmare.  

She started opening parcels. Panties--peach, with lace on the sides.
A matching bra.  

"Okay, `Princess.' Put them on."  

If rape is inevitable, lie back and enjoy it, we used to say. I guess
something along the same lines applies to forced crossdressing. I took
off my clothes.  

The panties were nice. The bra wasn't.  

"You look like hell in that bra. Wait." Another parcel: breast forms.  

"These things cost me a mint. You're going to wear them and like it."  

I fussed around with the bra until I figured out how to get the breast
forms into place and the cups around them.  

Garter belt next. Peach, just like the bra and panties. I had never
worn one of these; my preference was pantyhose. She watched me while I
figured out how it went on.  

Peach bra, peach panties, peach garter belt. But the stockings were
black with a pattern knitted in.  

Then a black miniskirt and a pale blue blouse. Lacy collar on the
blouse. This was as good as anything I had ever written for the men in
my TG stories. If I were one of those men, makeup would be the next
thing.  

And it was. More parcels. Lipstick, eye shadow, the works.  

She wouldn't apply them for me. Instead, she sat me down at her vanity
and instructed me. She had me overdo the makeup, so I looked cheap and
vulgar.  

"There. You're my little slutty Princess Pervette."  

"Yes, Mistress."  

"Never mind that `Mistress' crap. I said you would be forcibly
feminized and would like it. If you like it, you won't call me
Mistress."  

"Okay, my love."  

"Now, my little lesbian slut, make me happy."  

Well, she didn't have to ask me twice do do what I so loved to do. I
slowly and lovingly undressed her and in a moment I was between her
legs, feasting.  

After I had satisfied her--which took a delightfully long time--she
told me that I was to dress that way at home from now on.  

"I've got a couple of changes of outfits here," she said, pointing to
the unopened parcels, now in a heap on the floor after we had hastily
cleared the bed. "You can wear them while you're doing the housework.
Things are going to be different around here from now on, `Pervette'."  

They sure were. And the more I thought about it, the better I liked
it.  

For one thing, it meant that I wouldn't have to hide my collection of
panties any more.


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