The cost of carelessness

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

It's been over a year now, and I think the worst thing is the loneliness.
Yes, I have a TV, books, and newspapers, but the lack of human companionship is unbearable.
Becky is my only companion, but her presence isn't always welcome because of the pain and humiliation she inflicts on me.
Yes, to be honest, other people have come to see me, but they're all working for Becky.
They only add to my shame, and I think I'd better not tell you everything.
Your first question might be, "Why do you stay? Why don't you leave as a man?" But I can't! This room is about 20 square feet, and I have a 15-foot chain on my right foot.
I can move between my bed, chair, TV, and bathroom, but not the door.
Even if I could get close to the door, it wouldn't do any good because it's always locked.
There are no windows in this room, and calling for help is a waste of time because this large house is located in the middle of a 400-acre farm.
At first, I tried to escape, but every time Becky found a way to punish me.
She's destroyed my spirit, and I'm now powerless to resist her insidious plans.
I think you're wondering why I ended up in this situation.
Honestly, while I felt Becky went too far to some extent, I still believe it was my own fault.
Looking back now, I can't believe her punishment of me was her only motive.
It all started in 1998! Or maybe 1997.
My wife, Becky, was working at a clinic, and I had just finished a week of my law internship.
I met a girl at a bar and invited her to this farm for drinks and swimming.
You might have guessed it, we ended up in bed, and she decided to stay the whole weekend.
Unfortunately, Becky came home early and caught us in bed together.
I still wonder why she was barely angry, just told the girl to leave, and then talked to me about my recklessness.
The next morning when I woke up, I found this damn chain locked around my ankle.
I tried everything to get it off but couldn't.
Becky had moved all her things to the guest room, and all my clothes were hidden somewhere.
I was furious when I first discovered the chain.
But Becky refused to talk to me.
She pretended to untie me, but instead struck me hard.
When I woke up, I found my hands and feet chained to the bed.
She came in and calmly said that what I had done was unacceptable to her.
I tried to apologize and promise it would never happen again.
She said, “You men are all the same.
You promise everything, but as soon as that thing between your legs flares up, you blame women, saying how much women take advantage.
You don’t know what we women think.
I’m going to teach you a lesson.
It might take a long time, but you’ll understand how women feel.
Remember one thing: I’m not doing this to punish you.
It’s just because I still love you, and I want you to know some truths.
” “How long are you going to keep me locked up here?” I asked.
“A little while,
” she said, unwilling to say more.
She took out her first-aid kit, a hypodermic needle and a small amount of cleaning solution, and began to disinfect my arm.
“You don’t need to give me anesthesia.
As you can see, I can’t go anywhere.
” “Oh, it won’t put you to sleep.
It’s estrogen.
Before you even know it, your body needs enough of this hormone to make it so you can’t even get your ‘tiger’ between your legs up.
” Before I could resist, she had already pierced my arm and injected the liquid into my vein.
I was so shocked that I only saw the tiny needle mark.
“As you know, dear, as a plastic surgeon, I’ve worked with many transgender people.
I’ve helped many people become the women they wanted to be.
These people have such reverence and appreciation for femininity, and they are so passionate about it as men.
” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
I couldn’t control my anger and yelled at her.
I tried to tear the chains off the wall, but it was no use.
I hurled the most insulting words I could think of at her.
I even told her that if my hands were free one day, I would kill her.
But she left the room without a care.
Two hours later, Becky came in and gave me a sedative, putting me to sleep.
I was locked in bed for three weeks.
Becky came to see me twice a day, once before she went to work and once after she returned.
She gave me an estrogen injection every day and took care of my eating, drinking, and toileting needs.
Every time I begged her to let go of my hand, she would just say, "Honey, not now.
" I knew things would fall apart when my colleagues became suspicious and came to see me.
She couldn't tell anyone I was sick forever.
I decided to stay calm.
But on the third day of being locked in bed, Becky brought one of her little helpers.
She didn't say a word and installed equipment by my bedside.
Becky didn't tell me her name, just introduced herself as my electrotherapy therapist.
I couldn't avoid her electric shocks.
When I woke up, I found my beard had been permanently removed.
The next day, Becky told me I had to make a choice: cooperate or be shocked again.
I was shocked again.
On the third day, I chose to cooperate.
Because of the pain, most people can only endure an hour of shocks.
This girl worked more than eight hours each time.
Every morning, before she started working, Becky would give me an anesthetic injection
. This spared me some painful torment.
Finally, one day, Becky removed the chains from my hands, but the chains on my ankles remained.
She explained that I might hurt her, perhaps even kill her, but reminded me that she was the only one who knew where I was.
If she died, I would starve.
I was glad my hands were free and assured her I wouldn't hurt her.
Before she unchained my hands, she applied a foul-smelling white paste to my arms and legs.
About thirty minutes later, she wiped the paste off with a damp cloth, and I was surprised to find that my body hair had also come off.
I was afraid she wouldn't unchain me, so I didn't complain.
I knew the hair would grow back.
The first thing I did after getting out of bed was to go to the bathroom and take a shower.
In the bathroom mirror, I saw a face that surprised me.
I found my face red and swollen, but Becky assured me it would heal in a few days, and then my face would be as smooth as a baby's back.
I was a little skeptical, but she proved me right.
When I returned to the room, Becky had changed the sheets and placed some clothes that looked like hers on the bedside table.
"Are you going to come back to this room with me?" I asked, looking at the women's clothing.
“This is what’s going to happen to you, and you’d better relax and enjoy this wonderful change.
” “No,” she said.
“These clothes are yours.
” She opened my closet. “Look, all your men’s clothes are gone.
I’m sorry your women’s clothes aren’t complete yet, but they will be soon.
Your drawers are full of bras, panties, and stockings.
You’re going to use them!” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“You can’t force me to wear these clothes.
And you can’t give me any more hormone injections.
That’s enough, you’ve had your fun, you’ve punished me, but it’s all over now.
I should go back to work.
Your little games may have cost me a dozen clients, and it may take me months to make up for it.
” Becky said, “You won’t have a job anymore.
” “What did you say?” She picked up a newspaper. “Take a look.
” I almost fainted when I saw the newspaper.
I found my obituary in the obituary section.
That is to say, I was dead.
I sat weakly on the bed.
“Becky, you’re crazy! Why did you do this?” She showed me another newspaper.
"This is your death certificate.
You've been cremated, and only relatives were present, meaning only I was there.
Your colleagues insisted on holding a memorial service for you, but not many people came.
" "Becky, you must be crazy.
This is illegal.
" "Your colleagues paid me your share.
So I can buy you lots of nice clothes, and enough for any surgery you might need.
Do you want me to help you dress, or will you dress yourself?" "I won't wear these clothes!" "You will.
I'll go prepare dinner now; you'll be very hungry if you don't dress.
" I didn't eat that night.
The next day, I spent the whole day trying to remove the chains from my feet, but I still couldn't.
That evening, I had to wear a black and white striped dress.
It had a white sailor collar and black straps.
Dinner was delayed because I wasn't wearing a padded bra and petticoat.
I quickly corrected my mistake, and Becky brought out a delicious dinner.
She even ate with me.
In fact, the clothes fit quite well, and were very comfortable, though I didn't tell Becky.
I can't pinpoint exactly when I gave in to Becky's attempts to force me into femininity.
Maybe it was the day I first noticed small, lovely breasts growing on my chest, and other very feminine changes happening on my hips and thighs.
Most likely, it was the time I met Da'an.
This is something I didn't want to tell you, but I've decided to tell you anyway so you can understand how my mind was ultimately transformed.
One Saturday afternoon, Becky came to my room with some new bras she had just bought for me.
All my old bras were padded.
She thought I could wear unpadded "B" cups now.
To my surprise, they fit me perfectly.
I know I don't want to admit it, but I felt a little proud when I saw how beautiful the new bras looked on me.
Because their curves were all my own.
My hair was quite long, and Becky combed it to one side and then gathered it up at the back.
"The new bras look great," Becky said, "but we need to do something with your hair.
Would you like to get a perm?" I don't know why I told her I would.
Maybe I just wanted to please her, or maybe it was because I felt good when I saw my new bra.
I think she must have been surprised when I answered "yes."
At four o'clock, the last character appeared.
When Becky styled my hair into a very feminine hairstyle, there was almost no trace of my former masculinity.
I won't admit it to her, but I really liked it.
"You look beautiful," Becky said, "just a little more work.
" She took out something that I think might be a curling iron and held it close to one side of my head.
Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my ear.
I saw in the mirror that she had pierced my right ear.
Perhaps it was this pain that brought me back to my past self, and I suddenly felt like a fool for allowing her to destroy my masculinity.
Without thinking, I slapped her.
A look of shock appeared on her face.
"You bastard!" Tears welled up in her eyes.
"You've made such good progress. Look at yourself in the mirror; that old man is no longer there.
The sooner you drive that man out of your heart, the easier it will be for you to change.
Tonight, we'll drive that man out of your heart.
" She turned around and slammed the door shut behind her.
I felt a little guilty, but I didn't want to apologize to her.
I was in a bad mood; I didn't want to eat or watch TV.
So at ten o'clock, I decided to go to bed.
I put on my V-neck camisole nightgown with ribbon embellishments.
I don't know why I wore it, because it was the most feminine nightgown I ever owned.
Maybe I wanted to see what my new hairstyle would look like with it? I was in bed when the door opened.
Becky brought in a burly man I'd never seen before.
A man seeing me in such a sexy nightgown and with such feminine hair made me feel awkward, so I pulled the blanket up over my head.
"Honey, this is Da'an," Becky said.
"He's the boyfriend of a transgender girl I work with, and he wants to talk to you.
I want you two to be alone so you can get to know each other better."
Becky looked at me and smiled, saying, "Now you're a sweet couple.
" I was terrified! After Becky left, Da'an came to my bedside.
I pulled the blanket up even higher.
I was trembling all over.
"What's your name, Sweetheart?" I asked fearfully. "Mark.
" Da'an gently pulled off my blanket.
I was completely exposed to him.
At that moment, I wished I hadn't chosen such a feminine nightgown.
From that day on, Becky and I got along very well.
I cooperated well with her feminizing me.
When she told me to do something, I did it.
When she thought I would look better with blonde hair, I dyed my hair.
I began to enjoy my new gender, and I even hoped she would make me a complete woman.
My breasts had grown again, and now I had to wear a C-cup bra.
My hips, thighs, and waist had become completely feminine.
Even when I wore jeans and a t-shirt, I couldn't hide my femininity.
My hair had grown to my shoulders, I was still blonde, and I was learning how to style my hair.
Becky tried to give me speech therapy.
I made some progress, but not much.
I could raise my vocal cords to imitate a woman's voice, but I couldn't hold it for long.
Several times I became very disappointed.
Becky said that the only problem preventing me from going out and living a normal woman's life was my voice.
That evening, Becky woke up excitedly and said, "I've got it! I talked to Professor Toby in California, and he'll be in our town this week doing some work for a few of my TS girls. He
also has a solution for your voice.
I've arranged for you to start at 8 a.m. tomorrow.
" Less than 12 hours had passed.
I didn't know what to do.
I wasn't sure I wanted the surgery, but I was tired of learning a new pronunciation.
Getting my ears pierced was one thing, but having surgery in a hospital was another.
I guess Becky had it all planned out.
She didn't want me to have any more time to think about what was going to happen.
So, the next morning, I dressed simply, unkempt my ponytail, and went to Becky's hospital for her examination as her patient.
The examination ended at 10 a.m.
Becky assisted the doctor with the surgery,
because she wanted to learn the procedure.
I was told not to speak for two weeks.
Becky knew this, so she decided to do some minor surgery on my face.
Nothing major—maybe make my nose a little more upturned, or inject some filler into my lips to make them look more attractive.
The next day, I was anesthetized and wheeled back into the operating room.
I guess I might have known she couldn't just do some minor surgery on my face.
From that perspective, maybe I wanted more change.
Maybe subconsciously, I already knew I could never go back.
Because all these physical and psychological changes were so drastic.
Maybe what I got was exactly what Becky wanted me to be.
I really don't know what I was thinking.
When I woke up in the recovery room that afternoon, I immediately knew it wasn't just my nose and lips that had changed.
Although my nose was bandaged and aching terribly, the main pain wasn't coming from my face.
I slid my trembling hand between my thighs, and I could feel the bandages! I realized there were no male organs under those bandages.
My balls and penis were gone.
I had finally paid the ultimate price for my carelessness.
I was now a complete woman.
I would never go back.
Some people reading this might know what I'm trying to say, but some won't.
I'm so happy! Actually, I'm excited about the new life I've been hoping for.
(The End)
A very personal feeling.

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/216930.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=216930&aspx=1

Last access time:

Previous Page : No more resistance

Next Page : Ten funny and embarrassing stories from daily life

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

The cost of carelessness

comment Open a new window to view comments