“ELSIE” a transvestite fantasy by Clinton Crayle

“ELSIE” a transvestite fantasy


by “c.c.”


“It’s sort of A Party,” Paul explains, “A Week-end thing, on a lavish estate, with rooms for the Guests. Only you have to sign some sort of Release, and put down a Deposit to get a Room Key. And it’s rather a Kinky scene; You know: Well-dressed Dominants, Slaves nude except for high heels and collars. It could get exciting!”


You’re not into that sort of thing, but you want to be there anyway. Because last week you got word that Dr. Cynthia Marmarosch would be there!


Rumor in the Pharmaceutical Industry has it that Dr. Marmarosch has developed something called LactoCapholate; L-C for short. Some sort of Pill that increases Lactivity in Females. It’s supposed to be years ahead of anything else on the Market, and you want to get a bid in on it for your Company, Humboldt Products, before the folks at Mammoth Chemical buy her outright. Since a small outfit like yours can’t compete with Mammoth in terms of Money, it would appear to be a Lost Cause.


But: Mammoth has a bad reputation for Underhanded Deals and renegging on Contracts.


Even better, you’ve learned that Cynthia Marmarosch has Masochistic Tendencies! And she’ll be at this Week-end Party!


Now if you could just connect with her there, put on a big Dominant Act and get her hooked on you, you /night just be able to swing the Deal! So you wangled an invitation from your friend Paul….


Yeah, Paul’s gay, and though you’ve teased him about it from time to time, you’ve tried not to let it interfere with your friendship and business dealings. Paul’s also very much into the Velvet Underground, which is how you happened to find out about the situation! Now if you can just put that knowledge to work for you…..




It’s a vast Estate, with a huge Main Hall, Guest Cottage, Pool House even Stables! Guests are just starting to arrive late Friday Morning when you get there. You wander about in your Leather Trousers and Dress Jacket, noting the Submissives, who, as Paul said, have to go around in just Collars and High Heels — for both sexes! Everyone feels free to do what they will with these under-dressed unfortunates, and you feel an involuntary shiver as you see them grabbed, pinched, spanked and worse at the whims of passers-by!


You also note the variety of Costume, from out-and-out Bondage Gear, to the sort of Gaudy Silks you might see at Mardi Gras, to conventional Dress Attire. At length, having failed to find Cynthia, you decide to avail yourself of some of the amenities….


In the Pool House, a Slave approaches. She’s petite and well-shaped, with masses of raven-black hair cascading softly over her ivory shoulders, soft, red, pouty lips, arid vivid green eyes that sparkle mischievously! You gaze down appreciatively at her lithe, compact body, the soft dark triangle between her legs, and her pert little nipples, winking up at you just like her eyes!


“Welcome to the Bath House, Master,” She smiles, “I’m Slave Dana, and I’d be happy to give you The Treatment!”


She gestures over at the scented tub, the shelves of intriguing body oils, and the soft, dark massage table. You look at the ultra-luxurious facilities and then back at the smiling Dana; Maybe this Dominant Bit won’t be so tough after all!


For the next half hour you luxuriate in the heady sensation of being bathed and massaged by an eager willing Slave! Lying on the soft bench, eyes closed, feeling warm oils rubbed all over your skin by Dana’s talented hands. You thrill to the total sensuousness of it, and wonder if you should have Dana suck you off. No, you decide, better save it for Cynthia; She’ll probably be really good at it!


Then You feel Dana put something on your feet. A click. Then around your neck! Another click! You open your eyes to see she’s gathering up your clothes and slipping out the door!


You sit bolt upright. And realize something in that Bath Water or the Massage Oil has left You totally hairless!


You jump up to give chase – and find high heels on your feet: locked on! And a Collar around your neck! As you lurch about, you get a look at yourself in a wall mirror, still erect from Dana’s ministrations, stepping daintily in heels, all Soft Pink curves, and not a hair on your body, and you blush furiously!


Boiling with rage, you run after the giggling Dana… out the door… across the lawn she sprints, with your clothes flapping in the breeze! Skipping as best you can in the High Heels, you chase after her, feeling your naked ass swish from side to side with every step! Well-dressed men and women point and laugh!


Unencumbered by Heels, the nude slave stays easily ahead of you. And insultingly stops every so often to let you almost catch up! And while smilingly waiting for you, she puts on an item of your clothing at each stop! Your shorts and T-Shirt on this laughing thief, bulging over her ample curves! Your shirt and pants! And shoes and socks!


By the time you’ve raced clear across the vast lawn, it’s Slave Dana who’s fully dressed and dominant, confidently entering the Main Hall, and you suddenly realize, you’re dressed just like a silly little Slave – at a Kink Party! You don’t dare go in there! And people are coming this way! Swiftly, you jump behind a bush.


As you cower there, collared, high-heeled and hairless, the enormity of the situation dawns on you: These Weirdos will


think you’re a Submissive! And treat you like one! And without the key that was in your pants, you can’t even get into your room and change! What if Cynthia Marmarosch sees you this way? What to do?


You know Paul’s in there somewhere. Yeah, you’ve teased some, but he’s your only hope now!


But how to get to him without being appropriated by some Dominant? And what if Cynthia’s in there?


Then you spot Two tall, mannish-looking females in Scarlet O’Hara Gowns laughingly approaching the door. Didn’t Paul say something about a couple friends of his, Evelyn and Leslie, planning to go as Southern Belles?


“Pssst!” you whisper, “Ladies! Over here! ”


Their painted eyebrows raise in interest at the sight of you, naked, hairless and high-heeled. But when you mention Paul, they agree to help you get in.


“Get in between us!” They spread their huge, billowing hooped skirts, “Like a Sandwich! No one will see you if we stay close together!”


And so, one in front, one in back, and you in the middle, almost hidden by their rustling taffeta skirts and ruffled bodices, You mince across the room, feeling the silky fabric slide and wriggle all over you, the warm bodies beneath pressed up against your nakedness. Despite yourself, it’s exciting, and Evelyn, in front, giggles as you grow erect again!


“Honestly!” She scolds in mock severity, “If you can’t be a Gentleman about this then…”


And she suddenly breaks away! Blushing, you turn and cower against Leslie, your smooth pink bottom to the crowd as you press desperately up to her satin front! She obligingly puts her strong arms about you, as if you’re dancing, and spins you into a corner, out of sight.


Then she lifts her skirt, grunting with the strain: “Hide in here!”


Underneath, you see the Metal Frame that holds out the Hoop Skirt and Petticoats: it’s like a bird cage. On wheels to support its weight! You slip inside and cling to the bars, and Leslie’s silken legs stroke across you, her ruffle-pantied ass in your face as she walks across the room. Through the layers of rustling taffeta you hear as she addresses Paul, giggling, “There’s someone here who wants to see you!”


Her skirts raise a bit, and there’s Paul’s smiling face peeking at you as you crouch in your petticoat-covered cage!


“Well!” He titters, “What have we here? Why it’s Charlie Humboldt! Have you gone skin-head or something?”


“Paul!” You blush and moan, wishing you could take your hands off the bars and cover yourself. But you need them to balance with! The wheels on this skirt-hoop look none too sturdy, and you don’t want to risk spilling Leslie! “Paul, help me!”


“But how did. you ever get into such a fix?” He teases, ‘”Not that you don’t look just divine in those pretty high heels…”


But as you start to explain how you got here like this, there’s a metallic SPINGGG! and the wheels give way! Leslie “Oooo|s” as the cage drops about a half-inch to the floor and your face lurches into her bottom!


“You broke it!” She pouts, “Fiddle-dee-dee and damnit anyhow!”


You’re close to tears of frustration, but Paul comforts you:


“Don’t worry,” His tone is warm and reassuring, “I’ll get you out of this!”


“Fine for you two,” Leslie sulks, “But what about me? I can|t even move now!”


“Frankly my dear,” Paul cracks, “I don’t give a damn. I’m still trying to figure out what to do with Charlie here!”


“Well I don’t have to stay here and wait for you two,” Leslie snaps back, “as God is my witness I don’t! Watch this:”


With a deft maneuver, she pulls her dress free of the cage and climbs out! High heels wave in your face as she wriggles upwards, her long satin dress now loose about her, trailing across the floor as she walks away…


…leaving you crouched in the Hoop-Cage in the middle of the room, in front of everyone!


“You know,” Paul can’t help giggling at the sight of you this way, “That looks like kind of a Kick! How about if we Trade Places!”


That’s when you notice how he’s dressed: A Satin Corset, tu-tu, ruffled collar, high-heeled satin slippers and a tall, ornately-styled wig That’s all! On his muscular, hairy body, it looks totally incongruous. But on hairless You….


Well, it’s better than being dressed as a Slave – and treated like one! Minutes later, you’re in his silly outfit and he’s a caged and collared Slave!


So you mince about the room, looking for that thief Dana. But it’s so awful in this outfit! That rustling tu-tu doesn’t cover a thing! If you push it down to hide your manhood, it flips up in back! And that Satin corset is so tight! You can’t even bend over in it! As you strut about, feeling the gaudy wig slipping and sliding over your head, trying to cover yourself front and back, you wonder how you’ll ever get out of this!


But at last you spot Slave Dana, still swaggering about in your clothes, surrounded by a group of tipsy, well-dressed party-goers. Angrily you sashay over and demand your stuff back!


“Well!” Dana runs her mischievous eyes up and down your ridiculously-clad, hairless


body, “I see you found yourself something to wear! What a cute outfit! Did you design it yourself, Honey? Ooo! Look at this!”


She darts her hand under your skirt and you squeal a£ the well-dressed group of men and women laugh at your appearance!


“We’re going out bar-hopping for a bit,” She smiles, “And I need these rags of yours to meet the Legal Minimum. But Honey, you look just Precious! Care to join us?”


“Dressed like this?!” Almost in tears, you stamp your pretty feet and again demand your duds.


That’s when Paul shows up, out of the cage, being led on a leash by some self-appointed Dominant. He backs up your story, then looks hopefully at the bearded, leather -clad man holding his leash:


“Can’t you do something for my friend here, Eric?”


Eric can’t get Dana to return your clothes, but he insists on the return of your


Room Key: That way, they can go out and you can go to your room and change. Dana rifles through her (actually your) pockets, then turns them out – empty!


“It must have dropped on the Lawn in the Chase!” She smiles wickedly, “While we were out gallivanting around! Shall I go help you look for it, Sweetie? Would you like that?”


Something about her tone is just a little too eager. Angrily, you refuse, and watch Dana and her crowd depart as you stand there, fuming.


Well, You figure, it should be easy to find. You start back outside to look for it. But there, outside the door, is Cynthia Marmarosch! Quickly, you duck back inside! Can’t let her see you like this; It’ll spoil your whole Dominant Pose! All your plans….


So how to get outside and hunt your key?


Paul suggests that, you try to trade costumes with someone who might be more manfully-attired, or else masked.


Minutes later, you’ve made a trade. Well, it covers your face, all right, even if it doesn’t cover anything else!


Starting at the toes, you’re wearing high-heeled white latex sandals that twine up your legs, leaving your toes bare. They’re painfully tight and terribly awkward. Next, a white latex corset, cinching your waist in to breathtaking slimness. Nothing in between: your smooth legs, hairless crotch and round pink bottom completely exposed!


White latex arm-sheaths next: They pin your hands up to your shoulders, so all you


can do is wave your elbows and flutter your fingers laughably. Well, at least I’ll still be able to pick up the key and get it in my lock, you think. There are metal rings at your elbows that tinkle as you move.


And finally the Mask that was your whole reason for getting into this outfit: It’s white latex, covering your whole head, with openings for eyes, ears, mouth & nose. But it’s so tight! And the attached collar keeps your neck stiff, head tilted up. Worse, you discover there’s some kind of bizarre gag fixed inside it: A white rubber ring held in your mouth by latex straps, forcing you to keep your mouth open… with an attached rubber stopper for when silence is desired!


Well, at least this way you won’t be recognized, and you’ll only have to wear it until you find your key. So, blushing ten shades of red, you sashay through the French Doors, past Cynthia (whose eyes widen at the sight!) and out onto the lawn like this!


How long do you spend wandering around out there? Since you can’t bend your neck, you have to bend way over to see the ground, sticking your swaying naked bottom up behind you as you walk around, to the vast amusement of the Guests on the Lawn. Once, you think you spot your key, and drop to your knees to pick it up. But it’s just a shiny condom wrapper! And your antics as you struggle to your high-heeled feet provoke fresh gales of laughter! And it’s getting dark.


Someone comments that you look like a Cow, grazing in the grass. The idea is picked up by a group of merry-makers: “Let’s make him more cow-like!”


Helpless to resist, you endure it as they put a bell around your neck and give you a spanking! SMACK! SMACK!! SLAPP!!! Tears well up in your eyes, and you start to cry out – – only to have someone put the rubber stopper in your mouth!


“You’d better just hope that’s all that gets put in your mouth!” A woman caresses you to embarrassed arousal, stroking your defenseless privates and smooth, hairless chest, tweaking the nipples to quivering stiffness. Then she ties the elbow-rings on your arm-sheaths together behind your back, so that your elbows nearly touch!


Someone pulls out the mouth-plug and pops a pill in, then seals it up again, holding your nose until you swallow. You feel yourself growing dizzy…..


When you awaken, it’s daylight. How long was I asleep? you wonder. You’re in the Stables. Still in your white latex outfit, mouth-stopper firmly in place. The rings on your arm-sheaths are still bound behind your back, forcing your elbows together behind you… flaunting your Breasts!




What was in that Pill??? You have Breasts!!! Big, swaying ones – With nipple clamps! You stare down at them in bewilderment, and suddenly you realize there’s a ring in your nose!


As you struggle to your feet, a tall shapely black woman enters. She speaks no English. With gestures, she has you relieve yourself into a bucket, then cleans you with a high-pressure hose, followed by a lotion that leaves you soft-skinned, sweet-smelling and shiny… and aroused!


As you follow helplessly, she leads you by the nose to a shiny steel apparatus with rubber tubes and a solid-looking glass jar… and proceeds to milk your breasts!


You stare in wide-eyed shock as she loosens each nipple clamp in turn and squeezes each breast to arousal before putting a gentle suction hose on the nipple… the effect is like gentle, teasing kisses, that leave you achingly erect, despite your complete shock at what’s happening!


So this is Dr. Marmarosch’s Formula, You realize in horror, LactoCapholate! Someone slipped it to me!


Finished at last, she replaces the nipple clamps and, with a playful slap! on your big pink bottom, pushes you back out on the lawn… to graze for the day!


OH! you think, This is awful! All those people seeing me naked with these huge breasts… and erect! Wandering around in Broad Daylight like this!!!


Now You search desperately all over the grass for that key! And it does look like you’re Grazing! A Big-titted, big-butt, bare-ass Cow, in white latex with a nose-ring and a clanking Cow Bell to call attention to yourself, mincing and swishing slowly across the lawn, bent over, with your rolling bottom sticking up high and your swaying breasts bouncing and jiggling with every tip-toe step — and your humiliating Erection thrusting incongruously out in front!


Sexy women, elegantly clad, cover their mouths and giggle at the sight. Well-dressed, Male Escorts grin broadly and step over to have a bit of fun with the ridiculous creature: YOU!




Hard hands crack across your butt, and tears spring to your eyes again. You moan softly into the gag, and all that comes out is a gentle “Moo-ooo!” provoking even more laughter!


Someone tugs UP! on your Nose Ring, and you straighten quickly, your big, heavy breasts bouncing comically as you look up into a pair of laughing eyes… Dana’s! The one who got you into all this.1– still dressed in your stylish macho leather outfit! And next to her Slave, hobbling daintily in a tight Satin Sheath, is Cynthia Marmarosch, looking Totally Captivated!


“MY!” Her eyes widen in fascination at the sight of you this way, “This one certainly loves it, doesn’t she!”


“Sure does!” The leering thief grins straight at you while talking to Cynthia, her laughing green eyes never wavering from your abundantly-displayed charms, “Say, Cindy: Would you like an outfit like that? Maybe we could fix you up just like her… to sort of celebrate your signing up with us at Mammoth!”


“Oh no,” She smiles ruefully, “I like a little B&D from time to time, but I’m not as far gone as This!” She tries to repress a giggle. As they walk off, You hear Dana say, “If you think that’s bad, wait’ll you see the volunteers we have lined up to test….”




There’s a resounding C-R-A-C-K-! across your bottom and you spin around, mooing piteously into your gag. Behind you, a gaggle of teenage girls, decked out like Heavy Metal Rock Stars, stare imperiously at your blushing form.


“Watch where you’re standing, Elsie,” A pink-haired punkette snaps, “We wanna walk there!”


Quickly, you mince out of the way. But not quickly enough! One of them takes a satin flail from her belt and inserts the handle between your cheeks!! You squirm and moan as she ties a strand of the lash around your waist; then another strand, between your legs and tightly around your balls, but she doesn’t stop until she’s satisfied that handle’s in to stay!


“There now!” She smirks as they saunter off, “You’ve got a Pretty Tail to wave for everyone!”


And it’s true! Now as you walk, you feel the satin ends of the flail waving behind you, switching from side to side and stroking across your bottom-cheeks just like a Cow’s Tail!


You try again to search for that all-important key, bending low, scanning the green grass desperately, trying not to faint from Shame at the Picture you make! But someone else has heard about “Elsie”: A group of Beauticians gathers around you, mincing, lisping, fussing over you. As they work, their hands keep stroking your erect manhood, caressing your pink bottom, shaking your pretty Tail to make you Moo-oo! and flicking your stiff nipples until your breasts jiggle shamelessly!


They turn your head this way and that, using that awful nose-ring to hold you still. And when they’re through, you have mascaraed eyelids; big, l-o-n-g dark Artificial Lashes, rouged cheeks (top and bottom!) a pretty red-lipped mouth painted on your gag… to match your red-painted nails… and a long Blue Pony-Tail, glued to your Latex Cap, trailing softly over your bare shoulders and down your naked back!


“There now!” One of the Beauticians titters, “You have two tails to wave!”


“I think that calls for a Thank-You kiss!” Another one smiles, pulling the plug from your mouth-stopper.


You’re about to cry out. To protest. To beg them to let you free! But before you can speak, there are lips pressed to your forced-open mouth; a tongue invading you!


A swift tug on your nose-ring, and all at once you’re down on your knees in front of them. Their pants are down, asses facing you. And you realize you’d better kiss them quick, before they find some other use for your mouth!


So you slavishly kiss the pink butts as best you can, with your mouth held open by the latex gag. You have to use your tongue,


and they wiggle in your face till you’re dizzy, but at last the awful “thank you” is done, and they’re strolling off, leaving you to get back on your high-heeled feet and keep looking for that key as best you can!


Further along, a tall Eurasian woman in a jade-green slit dress, accompanied by two well-dressed Frat types notices your rampant erection.


“Watch this!” She at her two laughing boyfriends and slips out of her tiny black-silk panties, then proceeds to rub them across your neck… your breasts… over your ass… until you positively ache with Need! Then she dangles the flimsy garment temptingly in front of you and makes you wiggle your stiffness across it while everyone guffaws at the way this makes your tits and tails wave about! You don’t care: You’re so aroused you’ve got to Come! You feel little drops appear on the panties….


….and then she pulls them away from you, pulls out your mouth-stopper and pops them into your mouth!


Dizzy/ with frustration, burning with embarrassment, you’re helpless to move as she calmly re-inserts the stopper and rejoins her boys! They stand arm in arm, enjoying the sight of you, and you see the boys’ hands dart into that slit silk dress and take advantage of the un-pantied treasures inside!


It continues like this most of the day. Out there grazing across the Lawn like that, you’re a teasing, tempting target for any passer-by with a cruel sense of humor. But you have t6 stay out there! You must find that Key!


Then, towards evening, you get a Break; There’s a part of the Lawn roped, off with long satin ribbons, forming a sort of corral, where four or five men and women in Pony-Girl Bondage are standing about. And there’s a glint of shiny metal in the grass!


Quickly, you duck under the Satin Ribbons and into the Corral. Peer low at the grass. Damn! It’s just another Condom Wrapper! You turn to go, but now there are statuesque Amazons around the Corral… and they won’t let you leave! What to do???


You’re still wondering about that an hour later when they start loading you into the Van. You try to struggle, scream, resist somehow! But the only sound that comes through your gag is that silly M-oo-oo!


“Boy these Bottoms really love to ask for it, don’t they?” A muscular young man squeezes your breast, jerks your nose-ring painfully and slaps your naked bottom as he forces you up the ramp and into the Van.


“You think this is bad,” You hear a voice outside… it’s that Dana! The thief who stole your clothes and started all this! “Wait till you see what they signed themselves up for!”


And then, just before the door closes, another voice in the distance: Paul!


“Anyone seen Charlie Humboldt?” He asks, “I found his key…”


And then the doors are closed and you find yourself packed immovably in with the other naked, bound bodies.




The Lab is shiny; bright; antiseptically clean. The tall, perky Blonde in the white Lab Coat walks primly beside her petite brunette guide. Her hair is pulled back in a severe bun, and dark-framed glasses sit demurely on her nose. But there is a hint — just a hint of sexy mischief in her eyes.


“Had to go to an all-female staff,” the Brunette is saying, “Because too many of the Male Attendants were -ahem- taking advantage of our female Research Subjects and the -ah- conditions we keep them in.”


She keys in a special security code and the two women walk into the deepest recesses of the Research Complex. Yet even here the lights are bright, the walls white, the Steel Bars shiny. The Blonde’s eyes widen a bit at the sight in front of her, and she licks her lips: A voluptuous red-head, wearing a satin corset with a ridiculously short skirt attached; thigh-length high-heeled black leather boots; white lace gloves and a strong leather collar! She’s vigorously polishing stainless steel equipment, but she curtseys, eyes lowered, as the two women enter.


“…though in some cases,” the Brunette shoots a significant look at her companion as they admire the abundant charms of the servile red-head, “In some cases, it’s a bit like setting the Fox to guard the Chickens!”


“Is this the one you were telling me about?” The blonde asks.


“Oh no,” The Brunette smiles wickedly, “This lowly creature is actually Dr. Cynthia Marmarosch, the inventor of LactoCapholate – one of our biggest sellers!”


“And she really likes this treatment?”


“Honey, all our Research Subjects volunteered for their positions here by joining a special group at a -uh-gathering a few months ago. And they all of them willingly signed over all their assets to Mammoth Chemical a few weeks later: Including any and all Patents registered to them!”


“All their assets? Willingly?”


“Well, of course, being Masochists, some of them put up a token show of resistance…..to invite more punishment, you understand. But with the help of some new drugs and a bit of persuasion, we got them all to go along with the program.”


The women walk deeper into the lab, past a man running nude on a treadmill with his hands bound behind his back and a small weight hanging from his scrotum.


“So they not only work for free as Research Subjects,” The blonde muses, “But they actually pay for the privilege?”


“That’s right,” The Brunette replies as they round a corner and approach a glass cage about three feet square and eight feet high, “That’s how we came to acquire Humboldt Pharmaceuticals!”


The Blonde gazes dispassionately at the feminine figure in the glass box: Big-breasted, completely nude and totally hairless, her wrists and elbows cuffed behind her. The abject Research Subject springs to her feet and forces a nervous smile at the two women, and the brunette rewards her by pressing a button that dispenses a mouthful of water into a steel cup mounted in the floor of the glass cage. The hairless, big-breasted figure sinks to her knees with a practiced motion and laps it up greedily, then springs back to her feet again.


That’s when the Blonde sees the erect penis quivering between the Research Subject’s legs.


“As a matter of fact,” The dark-haired Doctor smiles slyly up at the shivering, blushing, half-sexed creature in the glass box, “This shy young thing used to be the be the owner of Humboldt Pharmaceuticals recruited him, and now she’s one of our favorite Subjects!”


“Really?” The blonde’s eyes widen. And so does her smile. “You mean this used to be Charles Humboldt?”


“Of course, she doesn’t answer to that name anymore,” The Doctor explains, “Since she was one of the first subjects to test LactoCapholate, her official designation is ‘LC-1’. But around the Lab we’ve shortened it to ‘Elsie’; It seems to fit!”


The Blonde surveys the massive, jiggling breasts on “LC-1” with their shiny tit-clamps, and tries to suppress a laugh. “Elsie” indeed!


“So she’s the one I Milk daily?”


“Three times daily,” The Doctor corrects, “Among other things. As you can see by her big red lips and beautiful eyes, we’re also testing long-lasting makeup on her. And of course, her smooth, pink skin is a testimonial to our Permanent Depilatory. And that purple pole there…” Elsie blushes even redder as the sexy brunette points out her evident Need, “… is part of the test as well. If s a new treatment to delay ejaculation without diminishing the Male Sex Drive. Every day we subject Elsie to prolonged sexual teasing, just to keep her rampant like that. And I must say, the treatment has kept her frustrated and horny for months now!”


“Poor thing!” The blonde cooes. But she can’t resist moistening her lips just a bit, making her voice breathier, and twitching her rounded hips ever so slightly. She feels Elsie’s eyes on her, almost as big and sexy as her naked breasts, and now she just can’t help giggling a little at her plight, “She’s just given up everything for this life, hasn’t she, Doctor?”


“Call me Dana,” The Doctor notices her companion’s almost immediate teasing of the Subject, and smiles approvingly, “This thing used to be a big, masculine, wealthy Male; Now she has traded her money, her firm, all her possessions – including her clothes – even her hair: All for a big set of tits and a position here with us!


“But enough philosophizing. In addition to milking and sexual stimulation, you’ll be responsible for Elsie’s Physical Exercise: an hour of Aerobic Dance, a plunge in the Ice Pool and a quick jog around the Gym. You’ll be given a paddle to urge her on, but if you’re not happy with that, we may get you a whip. Can you handle it?”


Slowly, the perky Blonde unbuttons her severe lab smock, feeling the imploring, needful eyes of the naked, big-tittied, hairless thing in the Glass Case


longing for her…..and reveling in the sensation of Power! In her mind, she can already feel the swish of the paddle in her hand, picture the smack! and bounce! of Elsie’s big pink bottom as she chases her, dripping wet, around the gym….. she imagines that smooth head between her legs, the red-painted lips desperately satisfying her as Elsie herself quivers in fear and frustration….


“I’m going to love it!”

4 thoughts on ““ELSIE” a transvestite fantasy by Clinton Crayle

  1. Excellent. His predicament escalated perfectly, along with his shame. The final fate he suffered was so complete and awful that it’s seared into my memory.

    1. C.C. is brilliant and taking the reader by the hand so we endure fully the sissy’s predicament without feeling any pity for the poor fool.


  2. This is a testiment to your ability to subject a normal heterosexual male into a totally inexcapable predicument. The irony is not lost on the reader. I love it when they end up as ridiculous sissies!!

  3. Quite so Johnny! C.C.’s stories always keep a foot in reality, helping the reader experience the squirmy trauma of the protagonists.

    Debora Ford

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