Synopsis: Brad feels trapped in his life as a corporate lawyer and yearns for something better out of life, like the handsome doctor next door. When his wife is called in to work overtime, he becomes his alter ego, Nurse Brandy, and is always ready for the doctor to make a house call.

From Abigail: There was another author who used to post their stories on here when they were selling them on Amazon but I can't remember which. If that was you, thank you. I know I don't have a lot out there and that people don't know me enough to take a chance, but I really put a lot of effort into this and am selling it on Amazon for only 99 cents. My plan is to post it on Big Closet to and hope that some people write reviews or give me pointers. This is a hot little tale, I hope you enjoy it.

Brad Stockton wasn’t your normal, everyday rough and tumble kind of guy. He was never built that way. Even as a teen he was always long and slender and not really cut out for any of the sports teams, especially in Texas where football reigned supreme. While his peers were out trying to make the cut, increase their reps or weight on the bench press, or cut down on their forty times, Brad was in the library studying. He wasn’t meant to do construction or menial labor, and he knew that if he didn’t excel in a field that paid him to keep both his hands and his nose clean, he would be destitute. That’s why he decided on going into corporate law. Since he never earned a sport scholarship and his parents’ weren’t broke enough for him to qualify for financial aid, he racked up a lot of debt.

The law career started to pay off. Even with the huge student loan hanging over his head, he could afford a nice house in an affluent neighborhood. His neighbor on one side was a doctor and the neighbor on the other was a computer programmer. He had a nice car, a silver Lexus with leather interior only two years old. And he had a wife who within the past year insisted that she also work so they could pay down debt and be able to travel more. Since they didn’t have any children, he didn’t see the harm.

“Besides,” Brad thought as he sat down in his easy chair and waited for his wife to return from her shift at the hospital, “When the cat’s away, the mice will play.”

He opened the newspaper and quickly discarded the sports and comics section, they held no interest for him. All he wanted to do was check his mutual funds and see if he was one day closer to retirement.

It was a Friday night. He always knew when it was Friday, the rest of the days of work all seemed to merge into one long nightmare that he couldn’t find his way out of. His job was immensely rewarding when it came to income, but was equally boring as he dug into patent cases and looked for tax loopholes that corporations could use to pad their bottom lines.

“I’d like another bottom to be padded,” he thought to himself as he shifted in his seat. He could feel the soft cool material of his wife’s satin panties caress his ass as he fought the urge to grow aroused.

Brad had grown bolder in what had been his private little hobby that up until a year ago only he knew about. Of course, his wife had no idea, nor would she ever. Nothing could ruin his financial security faster than a messy divorce where she got half his assets. But lately he had been more adventurous with his secret life, sometimes sneaking into his wife’s panties right after work and not returning them to the hamper until that night when he took his shower. She hadn’t caught on and he didn’t see any reason why she should. He worked hard; he put in long hours and provided for both of them. Wasn’t he allowed to enjoy a little finery as long as he wasn’t hurting anyone?

Thinking about his wife finding out kept Brad from stretching out his wife’s panties in a way that he would be hard pressed to explain.

“Hard pressed,” Brad chuckled to himself. “Get it.” For all his education, status, and wealth, Brad also had his dorky side that he couldn’t quite lose and no one that ran in his circle found amusing.

Brad settled in, enjoyed the comfort that only a satin pair of lacy underwear could bring. His mutual fund was still growing and he found it hard, um, difficult not to giggle like a schoolgirl whenever certain words popped, um, materialized in his head.

Fun time was over, at least for the moment as his wife made her way through the door carrying the day’s mail and a few bags from a shopping excursion at the mall on her way home. Brad noticed the bags, his wife had impeccable taste, and by proxy, so did he. He wondered what treasures his wife brought home as he craned his neck. She would have to wear the outfit first before he had a shot at it; it was only right and was one of the rules he put in place as he explored the softer side of life.

“Soft,” he giggled to himself and wished his feminine side would grow up. “Grow,” he was going to lose it if he didn’t quit playing games with himself.
“Playing with myself,” he thought as he cracked a smile at his wife. She never knew what was on his mind, how could she? How could anyone? He did an excellent job of keeping things concealed and was thankful that he could at least do that.

“What’s that silly grin about,” Helen asked as she put down the bags.

“Can’t a man be happy to see his wife,” Brad answered as he eyed the bags and tried to see which stores his wife went to. He was always disappointed when it wasn’t Victoria’s Secret or Fredericks of Hollywood. “Wood,” he blurted out before he could catch himself. “Would you care for a drink,” he recovered as he stood up and tried not to get aroused as the panties wedged their way between his butt cheeks.

“I’m good. Just looking over these bills on the way into the house.”

Brad tried to read the back of the envelopes to see where they came from, but the return address was strategically hidden behind his wife’s knuckles. Though he made a habit of wearing his wife’s clothing, he also made several purchases of his own and kept them hidden in a shed out back that only he had a key for. “Any of them mine?” He said, not knowing exactly which bills his wife held and knew that there were other purchases that could account for bills. If he just blurted out that the bills weren’t his, it could tip his hand and his wife might expect something.

“I’m afraid not. Unless you’ve been shopping for dresses and blouses behind my back.”

“Probably not,” Brad said stoically. It was just as he thought his wife didn’t suspect a thing. “How bad is the damage?”

“Nothing that I can’t handle,” Helen said as she folded the bills and put them in her purse.

Brad could feel the guilt swell inside of him, he knew it was severe because the word swell held no amusement for him. “You know, we have enough money in the bank to pay for these kinds of things.”

“I know,” Helen said as she put the bags in the downstairs closet to decide whether or not she would keep her treasures later. “But we need to get out of debt, not add to it. It’ll work out though, I got scheduled for overtime tomorrow and that will cover the bill. I swear, I’ve got to get a hold of my spending. I don’t even remember making half the purchases that they claim, but it’s got to be me. I’m the only one with the cards.”

Brad nodded. “I wish you didn’t have to work,” he said diplomatically, “but I understand. We made a commitment to get out of debt so I guess we have to do what we have to do. I wish I could put in extra hours at work.”

“For what? You already give them a good sixty hours a week between what you do at the office and the time you put in at home. Besides, you’re salary so no matter how many hours you work, it’s always the same check every month.”

“That’s true.”

“I know you won’t be too horribly upset that you miss the matinee at the ballet tomorrow,” Helen said.

“That’s not true,” Brad said and was actually telling the truth. Though initially the ballet bored him to tears, the more he got in tune with his feminine side the more he looked forward to experiencing these things with his wife.

“I’m sure it is,” Helen said with a grin. “Perhaps you can do something with Dr. Stanley next door; I heard he has the weekend off. Perhaps a round of golf or something to keep you busy because I’ll be gone all morning and I think Elaine is still doing that charity walk so she’ll be gone all day too.”

“If you think that’s a good idea,” Brad tried his hardest to sound disappointed.

“That’s what I love about you, you at least pretend, even though you’re no good at it.”

“Yes, dear.” Brad smiled as he thought of all that he was good at pretending.

---

More from Abigail: I want to thank Naughty Words Publications for taking a chance with me. I'm sure you will hear from them soon, so they tell me. Anyway, I hope you like the setup. Like I said, the story is available at Amazon for less than a price of coffee. Take a look, maybe you can leave a review when this is all done. Some people seem to have so many, I haven't a one. But I'm new, so let's get to know each other.

Link: On Call (Transgender Erotica)

When you live in an affluent neighborhood, visiting the neighbors isn’t as easy as just popping your head out the front door and seeing if they’re standing in their driveway. There was an actual debate going on in Brad’s mind if he should drive over there or simply walk. Since he was already wearing a pair of panties and they gave him such a thrill as they went swish-swish between his legs, he decided the exercise could do him good. Besides, over the past year he and Dr. Stanley had grown increasingly close and he wanted to impress the good doctor with his healthy habits.

So Brad walked down the long walk of his front lawn and out the gate and made it to his neighbors. It was a good ten minutes of exercise, but each second was exquisite. There was something about walking around in satin women’s underwear that made him happy to be alive, but there were other things that made the experience that much better.

Brad rang the doorbell and waited.

“Hi Brad,” Dr. Stanley said as he finally opened the door. “What brings you here?”

“Well, Helen has to work tomorrow and she was under the impression that Elaine was off doing another charity event.”

“Yes. I think this week is a 10k for kids with cancer.”

“Helen thought that it might be a good idea for us to get together and do something instead of being left to our own devices.”

“Hmm,” the doctor said as he looked over his guest. “I don’t know. How are things developing?”

Brad looked around to make sure there was no one around, which there usually weren’t. “Still a b-cup, but much more firm and sensitive.”

Dr. Stanley smiled. “And what does Helen have to say about that?”

“What can she say? She knows it’s a side effect of the heart medicine you gave me, and it’s just something we’re going to learn to live with. Though I think I could use another lesson.”

“So this wouldn’t be a Stan and Brad outing?”

Brad shook his head no.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing Nurse Brandy once again. She was a real treat.”

“That could be arranged.”

“Give me a buzz when you’re ready. I would take you right now, but Elaine is home and we do have to keep up appearances.”

“I understand. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
 

The night-time ritual was always a treat. It had been quite some time since he and his wife had been intimate, usually scheduling out the activity instead of relying on spontaneity. At first, the fact that their love life had grown stagnant and predictable was a concern for Brad, but ever since he found other outlets, he figured that it was part of being in a ten-year marriage. His wife had to work; he wouldn’t even be expected to make an overture at love-making. Besides, even if he did he would only be rebuffed and told that she had to get up early for another shift at the hospital.

There were other delights in store for him, though, and as the hour grew late and it was time for them to turn in anyway, Brad figured he would excuse himself.

“I better take a shower and change for bed,” Brad said as he rose from his chair, making sure nothing else rose as well as the silk panties were a constant reminder of how wonderful life could be.

“You going to be long?”

Brad shrugged. “No longer than usual.”

“Don’t get lost in the mirror. Staring at them isn’t going to make them go away any sooner and Dr. Stanley said that’s a common side effect, and your body will adjust soon enough.

“I appreciate you being so understanding,” Brad said as he walked over and kissed his wife on top of the forehead. “They can make a guy quite self-conscious.”

“Better you wearing them than wearing a coffin, right?”

Brad nodded. His wife didn’t suspect a thing. She had no clue that he didn’t have a heart condition or blood pressure issues in his early thirties, but, in fact, was growing breasts for his own enjoyment. Well, maybe not just his. His wife had assured him that the mysterious condition that just happened to crop up was due to stress at work and as long as she kept on believing that, he was more than willing to reap the reward. “I shouldn’t be too long, promise. I’ll meet you in bed.”

Helen smiled. “I’ll see you there.”

Brad walked up the stairs and into the master bathroom. He made sure the door was closed tight behind him and that he locked the door. He knew why he locked the door, but didn’t understand why his wife never questioned him on such an odd behavior. For the longest time, there was an open door policy on the bathroom, but even then it was rare for either of them to use the facilities at the same time, even when they were getting ready for work in the mornings together.

But the door was closed and locked, and he was safe. Left to his own devices, he didn’t have to worry about getting caught or having a lot of explaining to do.

“Finally,” Brad said in a much-practiced, sultry high voice that. He enjoyed hearing the voice in his own ears; it was like someone else was in the bathroom with him. Someone young, beautiful and voluptuous that only craved her sexual desires fulfilled.

“Filled,” Brad said with a giggle, and he slowly unbuttoned his slacks and slid the zipper down. He allowed the pants to fall to the floor and stepped out of them. A certain freedom came from being relieved of the item of oppression. He stared at the offending trousers in disdain as he picked them up and threw them in the hamper. They often felt like shackles as he went through his days, dreaming that he could show the world who he really was and wear something more appropriate. His socks went in right after them. They were also part of a problem that seemed without a cure.

Brad looked at himself in the mirror as he unbuttoned the top three buttons of his dress shirt and unbuttoned the cuffs. It was like someone released him from handcuffs, and he was about to taste freedom once again. He didn’t mind the dress shirt as he wore it now. It reminded him of how his wife looked when they were first married, and she would sleep in one; there was a certain sex appeal about a woman in a dress shirt and a pair of panties.

“There is a certain appeal indeed,” Brad said as he caught a glimpse of himself in the full length mirror. He wasn’t that tall, but he had more leg than he did torso and the look made the dress shirt work as it barely did the job of covering the pair of his wife’s panties that he wore.

He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs as he enjoyed the view. His legs were free of hair, as was everywhere else on his body. His wife never questioned his need to keep his body hairless, thinking it was just one of those odd quirks that a person had. It was a quirk; he understood that, but it was one that transformed the image in the mirror to that of a woman and not some bloke pretending to be something he wasn’t.

“So smooth, so silky,” Brad said as hand caressed his leg, going between his knees and then traveling up his inner thigh. He could feel the electricity of the touch and closed his eyes so he could imagine it was him.

‘Him’ didn’t have a name, wasn’t a real person, at least not in his fantasies. ‘Him’ was just a guy who wanted to make love to Brad as he became his feminine alter ego.

Brad closed his eyes and could feel himself grow aroused at the touch as the back of his hand flirted with the bottom of his delectable and delicate panties.

“Mmm,” Brad moaned, only wishing he had someone to fill him right then and there.

The panties were magical. Not in the sense that they transformed his body into something more in line with his psyche, but they adjusted his thinking and changed his reality into something more tolerable. He ran his hand across the silk now bunched to the side to allow other horizons to extend.

“Not too quick,” Brad scolded himself as his two fingers traveled up the base of his member, across the shaft and around the head. “This is not a race; it is a leisurely Saturday drive to be enjoyed. Let that man part of you go and embrace the joy of being a woman. It is time to be Brandy and live to the fullest.”

Brandy wasn’t the most unique name he could come up with, but he was a simple woman who enjoyed things that came easy to him. He allowed his hand to travel further up his groin and tickled his stomach as he made his way past his navel.

He knew the journey well, but the destination was worth the travel. It had been a year since Dr. Stanley gave him those little magical pills, and it had taken months before he saw any development. At first he thought they simply weren’t working, but as his fingers reached the firm mounds on his chest he was glad he was wrong. His fingers found the nipple of his right breast and he could feel it grow taut in approval.

“Oh Brandy,” he said as he pinched the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Waves of electricity washes over his body as his knees grew weak. Having the two beauties was worth deceiving his wife; they brought him nothing but joy.

“It’s time for the twins to come out to play,” Brad said as he unbuttoned the shirt the rest of the way.

He stared as his own breasts in amazement. They were a marvel and though he would never admit this to Helen, he was quite proud of them and thought they were much better than his wife’s. He stared at the firm b-cup breasts with nipples standing proudly at attention. His wife’s boobs sagged too much, but his breasts would rival any cheerleader’s.

Brad licked his fingers and circled one nipple, bringing him additional pleasure. He was glad they weren’t much bigger, or he didn’t think he would ever leave the house for suckling himself. Perhaps in the future, but for now he enjoyed massaging his breast while his member stuck out from the satin panties and throbbed.

Brad moaned. It felt so good. He could no longer contain himself and he grabbed hold of the one thing that prevented him from being the woman he so longed to be. It was an odd piece of equipment that denied him the ultimate happiness, but made up for that in other ways. He allowed the satin from the panties to ride up and down his shaft, all the while picturing him, picturing the man that loved nothing more than to make Brandy feel like the woman that she ought to be. The idea of having the correct anatomy and of being rhythmically entered by something very much similar to what was in his hand, albeit bigger, was too much for Brad and he climaxed right there, feeling his lust dribble down his hand.

It was a good thing he was in the bathroom where there were towels and a shower at hand. He quickly cleaned up, threw all the clothes in the hamper and decided to hurry along before his wife got suspicious.

But he had to linger in the shower for a moment and let the water cascade down his near-feminine form. The part of him he wished to exchange hung against his thigh, limp, and he was able to be in his right mind. He felt no guilt for what he had done, only regret that it was done alone. He soaped up and lathered between his legs, wishing that by some stroke of magic, he could erase that part of his anatomy and replace it with something more appropriate for Brandy. Perhaps one day medical science would catch up and Dr. Stanley could prescribe something else to fix his dilemma.

His soapy hand poked and prodded between his legs. He only wished he had an opening for them to enter. Though his anatomy didn’t respond, he could feel himself growing aroused again, but thought it best to save it for his guest tomorrow. It was always more fun to be on call and Nurse Brandy had a way with the doctors.

---

I'd ask for comments but the only one I had on the last post was one rubbing in that i didn't have any comments.

From Abigail:This story is available on Amazon here
for only 99 cents

It was Saturday, glorious Saturday, a day when Brad didn’t have to get up and put on a monkey suit and battle traffic to go to a job he no longer enjoyed. Maybe that was where he made his mistake, getting in the rat race to begin with. Perhaps when he was younger and not in debt he could have found someone like Dr. Stanley and just been a side piece. That thought aroused him as it had before.

“I could have always been on call,” Brad mused to himself as he sat in his easy chair pretending to read the paper while his wife got ready for a shift at the hospital. Being someone’s mistress appealed to him; he could be there whenever they needed their sexual desires fulfilled and he wouldn’t have to put up with the day-to-day maintenance that came with having a wife. Or being a wife, he thought.

Brad looked upstairs. “Speaking of wives, what’s taking Helen so long?” He looked at his watch, she wasn’t technically running behind, but his usually ultra-punctual spouse was lingering longer than he would have preferred. He ached for her to be out of the house, to be in her car and puttering down the road. He longed to be free of his male boxers and his conservative flannel pajamas. He desired to be in something soft and delicate that showed off his long legs and clung to his pert firm breasts.

“Would you look at the time,” Helen said as she rushed down the stairs. “Thank goodness there will be hardly any traffic.”

Brad breathed a silent sigh of relief. “Finally,” he thought.

“You got plenty of time,” Brad called out loud, not wanting to tip his hand and appear too eager for her to leave.

“I know. I just hate keeping doctors waiting. You have no idea how temperamental they can be. The littlest things can set them off.”

Brad had to suppress a chuckle. Here it was his wife trying not to set doctors off, and he was eager to leave for the expressed purpose of setting one off in another way. “You do such a great job I’m sure they don’t mind waiting an extra minute or two before they start their rounds. Besides, without you they probably wouldn’t know which patient they were looking after or why.”

Helen smiled. “You’re so supportive.”

“Don’t forget your purse,” Brad reminded. The last thing he needed was for his wife to make an unannounced reappearance and catch him in the middle of transforming into a pretense of her profession. A sexy pretense, but a mockery none the less.

“Thank you. I swear; I would lose my head if it weren't attached sometimes.”

That was a thought, but it was a trick that Brad was unable to master. Losing his head might make life so much better, he pondered as he glanced at his crotch. A little snip, a little tuck, or perhaps a little magic and life could be so much more fun. He wondered what it felt like to have one of those between his legs instead of what nature gave him as some sort of cosmic joke.

“Have a good day, dear,” Brad called out as his wife made her way to the front door.

“You too,” Helen answered and then was gone.

“I was talking to Brandy,” Brad said in a whisper after a long enough pause.

Brad remained in his chair. It was one of those things he did to not draw suspicion. He would pretend to look at the paper long enough and listen for the sound of his wife’s car to back out of the driveway. He always waited ten minutes after he heard the car move off down the road. He didn’t know why ten minutes; it was one of those things he happened to come up with. If a person forgot something, wouldn’t she always be back within ten minutes of when she left? It was silly, but he let the time play out.

Brad squirmed in his easy chair as he watched the seconds count down the last of his ten minute penalty time. A smile came to his face soon as he knew it was safe for him to lose the shackles of his male persona and embrace a side he was continually forced to keep hidden.

Though he was eager for his wife to finally be out of the house, he was in no rush once he knew she would not be back. The best things in life were done slowly; every moment to be savored. Part of the fun of being Nurse Brandy was the enjoyment that came from the transformation. Besides, there was still some time before Dr. Stanley’s wife Elaine would leave for her event. Brad intended to enjoy himself; he always did. Becoming Brandy was one of the good things in life, and there was no need to rush through all the fun.

Brad wasn’t the only thing that arose as he stood from the chair. Just the idea of becoming the person he always thought he should be got his juices flowing. Even though he was closer to being that person thanks to Dr. Stanley’s magic little pills, he often wished that he could make it completely over to the other side.

Brad sighed; there were some things that would probably never be. Though he could explain away his small but firm breasts, having a complete overhaul of the undercarriage was beyond reason. Pills could add to his top, but it would take a scalpel to subtract from between his legs. Life would be so much easier if there was an anatomy exchange program. Two testicles for a pair of breasts seemed reasonable to him.

“Oh well,” Brad thought as he ascended the stairs. “I might as well enjoy what I have and make do.”

The bedroom was already clean, something that he and his wife were real sticklers about. The bed was made and everything put away. The good thing about keeping the room tidy and organized was that it made it easy to keep things hidden because he knew the places his wife would venture. Hidden in the closet, among one of the storage bags that held several large comforters, was his outfit of the day. He carefully unfolded the thick quilted blanket and removed Nurse Brandy’s outfit.

“Soon,” Brad said as he ran a finger over the soft, cool material; his suddenly sultry voice almost cooing.

Though he felt sure that some would rush into getting changed and donning the costume, that was not his style. Becoming Brandy was a process, a metamorphosis. It was something to do painstakingly slow. Besides, becoming Brandy wasn’t him assuming a character. Brad was the façade, the front that Brandy showed the world in order to survive, and now it was time to remove that Brad costume and assume her real identity. She no longer had to be Bruce Wayne or even Batman; she could be herself, but it took effort to make sure the shift took hold.

Brad took his outfit into the bathroom with him. He was on his way to becoming Brandy, but wasn’t there quite yet, and he wouldn’t refer to himself by his true name until the transformation was complete.

The first order of business was to remove Brad from the equation. It started with the pajama bottoms, always. They were a good quality flannel pajama, not too coarse, but when it was time to become Brandy they always started to itch. He lowered the pajama pants and stepped out of them. It was just as if the prison guard had put the key in the lock. His knees quivered in anticipation

Brad folded the pajama bottoms and put them on top of the hamper. There was no reason to be a pig just because he was eager.

Next came the boxers. He shimmied them down, allowing his arousal out in the open. He wouldn’t deal with his five inches of lust just then; it was too soon, and though he was becoming his feminine self, his misplaced rod of flesh didn’t quite bother him as much as he thought it should.

Brad unbuttoned the top two buttons of his pajama top. The girls needed some room to breathe and as he was about to get ready, he tried to embrace everything he could to be as feminine as possible. His breasts were a wonderful gift, one that brought him nothing but pleasure and he liked pleasuring them in return.

“Not yet,” Brad scolded himself. “You aren’t you just yet.”

Brad looked in the mirror. He was closer to being his true self but had a long way yet to go. In just the pajama tops, below his neckline took a more feminine look, and with the pajama top covering his arousal and his long legs sticking out of the bottom, he knew he was blessed more than some other girls.

Brad looked at his face. In his life, he always had trouble growing a mustache and a beard. As a teenager that was a cause for consternation, but in his newly idealized reality he was thankful that his face was smooth and baby soft. It was even more so now that he was taking the “heart medicine.” It did his heart good seeing such a pretty face staring back at him. The only thing that ruined the image that there was a woman in the mirror was the hair. It was always the hair. He worked in corporate law, not the kind of place that embraced men with long hair, even if it were worn in a masculine way.

That would soon be remedied. He went into the linen closet, hidden behind a false back he kept his wig. It was a good quality wig, brunette with highlights. He gave it a quick comb through, making sure the style sat right before placing it on his head.

Putting on the wig was a process in and of itself. First he had to put on the wig cap because there was nothing more embarrassing then having your hair fly off in the throws of passion. Once that was done, then came the nice head of hair. With the aid of a few bobby pins and some time, Brad had the wig in place and was rewarded when he looked in the mirror.

The idea was always to look real, not like a caricature, and when Brad smiled at the mirror, he knew the reflection was that of a real person and not the joke who wore a business suit Monday through Friday while hating everything about that life. The hair was perfect; it came down just over his shoulder, tickling his back whenever he moved his head from side to side. It took some getting used to; it always did, but it was a getting-used-to that he could live with.

Brad made his way to his wife’s makeup table and again was glad that they had almost eerily similar skin tones. A little foundation, a little powder, some eyeliner, some blush, and a shade of lipstick that he called “fuck-me red”, made his drab, dull, male look vanish completely.

Brandy looked into the mirror. She really wasn’t a slutty kind of girl, but on occasion she didn’t mind getting a little wild, especially for a certain doctor. She felt her groin pulsate as she slowly ran her tongue across her shiny ruby red lips.

“I’ve missed you,” Brandy said as she regained her voice. It was a little too high and squeaky for her liking. She tried the line again. “I missed you,” she said a little bit more husky and sultry. Her penis gave a nod of approval as it ached for attention.

Brandy’s whole body ached for attention, and it was coming.

“Coming,” Brandy said and gave a soft feminine chuckle. She might be able to transform her body, but her pubescent dorky humor was there to stay.

Brandy lingeringly unbuttoned the rest of the pajama top and just as slowly slid it off her torso. Her breasts were nice and round and firm. She lifted her hands to remind herself that they were real. She squealed in delight as she gave a loving squeeze, not bothering to be quiet. The sound almost startled her but her own touch reminded her that it wasn’t only what was between her legs that demanded attention. For a moment Brandy sucked on her index finger, making sure it was nice and moist. She knew that in a little while her mouth would be getting even more of a workout, but this time was all about her.

Though Brandy ached to have her man with her just then, there was pleasure to be had alone as well. She took her moistened finger and slowly circled her right nipple with it. Her knees buckled at the sensation and immediately her nipple was as taut as her penis.

Brandy moaned and gave her left nipple similar treatment producing even more moans and strangled squeaks. She wanted to giggle with the pleasure of it and why not?

“Being a girl is so rewarding,” Brandy said as she gave her nipples a little tweak and felt the pleasure surge through her entire body. As the wave came crashing down somewhere in the pit of her belly, she had to hold onto the countertop so she didn’t crumple to the floor in a heap of ecstasy.

“We better keep you two holstered before you do some real damage,” she told her breasts.

From another hiding place, Brandy grabbed a red lace bra with a pattern ithat made the cups look like hearts. It was the perfect fit, even though she was mildly embarrassed when she first went to the bra shop to get fitted for it. Of course, she didn’t buy the red lace bra there, instead, opting for something bland to throw the sales woman off the track. Looking back, she should have done the shopping as Brandy, but she didn’t feel she was at the point of making public appearances. Once she knew the correct size though, she went straight to Victoria’s Secret to buy something delectable.

“I wonder if Victoria’s secret is the same as mine,” Brandy said as she looked down at her arousal. “If so, a lot of guys are going to be surprised.”

Brandy giggled again. She loved her giggle; it was so soft, so feminine, so natural, that it just made her skin tingle and break out in goose bumps.

Brandy was getting to be an expert at putting on the bra, practicing whenever she dared. At first she used to fumble with the clasp and thought she needed to be a contortionist to get it on. Now it was almost second nature. She let her breast sit in the cups, gave them a little lift, and then hooked the bra up behind her as if she’d been doing it since she was a teenager.

Next she grabbed the white garter belt. She knew it didn’t go with the bra, but there were only so many items she afforded herself in her wardrobe, not wanting to draw Brad’s wife’s suspicion. “She’d probably think Brad was cheating on her with another woman, not knowing that he is the other woman,” Brandy told herself as she moved the garter belt into place.

Part of the true joy of being Brandy was the white stockings. They were always a treat, and Brandy thought they really did her legs justice. This was another area that had a bit of a learning curve for her. The first time she put on stockings she thought it was the same as putting on a pair of pants, and she tried to push her entire leg down into them. Now she knew better. She sat on the edge of the bathtub and started at the toe, slowly rolling the material up her legs and finally making it to her thigh. She did this twice, and her body found that agreeable. It was something with the way the material felt and the soft swish-swish sound the stockings made whenever she rubbed her thighs together.

Though the tops of the stockings were elastic and didn’t need it, Brandy still attached the clips of the garter belt. It made her feel oh-so-sexy and feminine that she never dared to do without.

She always followed the same routine. First it the garter and stockings, then the panties. Probably because she knew what her lover wanted and knew that losing the panties was not optional, it was going to happen.

The panties matched the bra. A red lace thong that she slid up her long white stocking clad leg and let the straps go over her hips as the cool material rode between her firm butt cheeks. She was too aroused to place the front in the proper place and knew she would have to deal with that.

“You’ve been a good little clitty,” Brandy spoke to her penis as she grabbed a satin handkerchief. “He-he, hand,” she said as she wrapped her member in the cool, slick material.

She closed her eyes. She knew if she didn’t take care of this part now that she would last barely a minute with her lover and ruin the whole experience. She worked herself back and forth, imagining that her anatomy matched her soul. Her hand glided down towards her groin, and she imagined it was her lover entering her and that she held him in her hand.

In-and-out in an ever-quickening pace as her body arched in pleasure and begged for him to fill her even more.

Harder.

Deeper.

Faster.

Brandy let out a moan as the last of her masculinity was spent into the handkerchief. She panted hard, and it took a moment for her to regain her composure. She washed her hands to be on the safe side and knew that that, too, was a part of the process.

Brandy’s arousal now in control, she could continue. She tucked her flaccid penis between her legs while forcing her testicles into the cavity between her thighs. At last her anatomy was where it was supposed to be if she had been born in the correct body.

Brandy moved the panties to their proper place and marveled at how full the transformation looked.

“All it needed was a hands-on approach,” Brandy quipped as she modeled her feminine body in the mirror. The smile never faded, but she knew she shouldn’t keep the good doctor waiting.

The nurse’s outfit was a short white smock that came down to just about where the garter belt ended. Though her panties were covered when she stood upright, the same couldn’t be said whenever she bent over.

Brandy returned to the master bedroom and slipped into a pair of four-inch heels. She loved the way the heels lifted her butt and made it look as if she did much more exercise than she did. A small nurse’s cap went on top of her head and she was ready.

Brandy picked up the phone and called the number she knew by heart.

“Yes,” the smiling voice said on the other end.

“This is Nurse Brandy,” she said in her sing-song lilt. “I just wanted you to know I was on call.”

“Confirmed.”

Now it was only a matter of time before all her desires, along with other parts of her, would be filled.

---

From Abigail:This story is available on Amazon here
for only 99 cents

Chapter 5

The goal of the encounter was to find the experience rewarding, not to rush through to the climax and clean up afterwards. If Brandy wanted to be some cheap gutter-whore, she could hang out at the docks and at least make some money for her endeavors. There was a reason why she and Dr. Stanley waited for wives to be gone, this way they could take their time and enjoy the pleasures of life. Brandy’s desire wasn’t to be fucked; any two-bit teenage hussy could be fucked. No, she wanted to be made love to and to provide lasting pleasure in return. Perhaps it was because she was older, or maybe the hormones that gave her such wonderfully sensitive breasts lowered her male libido; whichever the reason, love-making was now a long, leisurely stroll down the road to nirvana.

Brandy made herself busy getting into her role, which didn’t take that much. She fluffed a few pillows, made sure the bed was neat with a spare sheet over the comforter. It would be a lot to explain to his wife why a corporate lawyer would choose his day off to change the linens. He left nothing to chance. Though he longed for the encounters with the good doctor, they were both loyal to their wives otherwise and honored their commitments.

Dr. Stanley walked silently into the bedroom. Brandy could sense that he was there, could smell his Jovan Musk even from across the room. She didn’t acknowledge his presence though, at least not yet. Let him enjoy the view, Brandy thought to herself as she bent over the bed and rearranged the far pillow. Her skirt rose up just a little, giving the doctor a tiny hint of what joys lay a few inches further north.

Dr. Stanley looked at the silhouette and admired his handy work. A little over a year ago when Brad agreed to this transformation, he knew he had a lot to work with, but didn’t imagine how well things would turn out. The long shapely legs that were wrapped in white pantyhose were quite the sight to enjoy, but there was still more to embrace. The firm shapely ass, the long delicate arms and the apple sized breast were all evidence that he was good at what he did.

“Nurse Brandy,” Dr. Stanley said, and he heard his voice crack. Brandy wasn’t the only one who anticipated these encounters.

She snapped to attention. “Oh, Dr. Stanley, I didn’t notice you arrive,” she said with a hint of embarrassment, embracing her role. She gave a small tug to the hem of her skirt, as if by doing so she could stretch the fabric another inch and maintain her modesty.

“I see by the morning logs that our patient has checked out and went home to his family.”

Brandy smiled at the quirk. They role-played this scenario dozens of times and in each instance the patient got better and returned home. No one was ever rushed off to surgery or worse yet, died. Brandy figured that was because Dr. Stanley was not only a pretend doctor but had been in the field for twenty years and detested the idea that anyone might perish under his care. “Happy and healthy and well on his way to a full recovery,” Brandy said, reciting her lines perfectly, hitting that feminine lilt that had taken her months to perfect.

“Excellent. Though an empty clinic isn’t good for the wallet, it does my heart good.”

Brandy took in the sight of Dr. Stanley standing in the doorway. His long white coat did something that no suit or tux on a man could ever do. It made her heart pound and pulse race. Even the Walmart slacks and sensible shoes were interesting touches that showed that even though the doctor was a man of standing, he wasn’t wrapped up in the trivialities of status symbols. But what really made Brandy’s belly turn to Jell-O was the stethoscope. It was the real McCoy,
not some prop, and that was the one thing on the doctor that wasn’t cheap, but it was of the finest quality, showing he was a man who knew where to place his priorities. “Looks like all there is to do is paperwork,” Brandy finally said as they each had enough time to enjoy the view.

“I wouldn’t say that was all there was to do,” Dr. Stanley said as he made his way further into the room.

“Excuse me?” Brandy asked as if she didn’t catch what the doctor said.

“Nothing. Everything looks like it’s in tip-top shape here. Did something drop under the bed?”

“My apologies doctor, let me get that right away.” Brandy bent at the waist to take a look under the bed and give the doctor a thrill at the same time.” As Nurse Brandy bent over, it wasn’t only her skirt that rose. Such warm thick thighs, Dr. Stanley thought. Such a firm supple ass, the view was magnificent.

“I didn’t see anything under there,” Brandy said as she straightened up.

“Must have been a shadow,” Dr. Stanley said as he loosened his tie. “Is it getting warm in here?”

Brandy knew something was rising, and as she looked at the bulge under the doctor’s lab coat, she figured it wasn’t only the temperature. “Maybe just a smidge,” she smiled.

“A smidge,” Dr. Stanley smirked. He loved that it wasn’t only Brad’s appearance that changed, but also his vocabulary, perhaps even his whole being.

“No one is around,” Brandy said. “We can be a little more relaxed with our dress code.” She unbuttoned the top of her nurse outfit, letting the ladies relax a bit more.

“Or a lot,” the doctor said as he stepped towards Brandy and unbuttoned a second button.

“I don’t believe it’s that hot.”

“Then let’s raise the heat.”

“But doctor,” Brandy said as if she had thought of a clever excuse not to continue.

“Doctor’s orders,” Dr. Stanley tilted his head and moved in.

Brandy parted her “fuck-me” red lips and immediately yielded to her lover. She kissed passionately and was kissed back likewise. The doctor’s tongue probed her mouth as his hands examined her hips. He did a lot of things well, but kissing was way up there on the list of things he did best. Brandy never before felt her toes curl until she experienced the ecstasy that came from a mouth that knew what it was doing.

“Much warmer,” Brandy said as they separated.

“You are such a beautiful woman,” Dr. Stanley said as his hands remained on her hips.

“Thanks to you.”

“Speaking of thanks to me.” Dr. Stanley unbuttoned the rest of the nurses outfit. “How are they?”

Brandy smiled. “They’re good.”

“Good isn’t good enough.” Dr. Stanley reached up and massaged the breasts over the satin bra, feeling the firmness and enjoying the perfect symmetry. “Let’s go for out of this world awesome.”

“Yes, doctor.”

Brandy offered no resistance as her bra was removed. She had no qualms about being exposed as Brad did when Helen was around.

Dr. Stanley viewed the breasts as if he were absorbing a work of art. He knew that with the prescription he gave Brad that there would be some development, but this perfection that only a Michelangelo could achieve was beyond his wildest dreams. “Venus De Milo severed her own arms for breasts such as these.”

Brandy melted whenever the doctor compared her to artwork. Art was a passion of his and for him to make such a comparison was high praise. “But the museum won’t let you touch the Venus De Milo.”

“That they won’t,” the doctor said as he took Brandy up on the invitation. He cupped the right breast in his hand and blew a breath of cool air on the nipple, making it react. The nipple grew taut and the good doctor gently stroked from the base to the tip.

Brandy moaned in approval as her loins caught flame. The doctor’s touch always elicited a different reaction in her body. It wasn’t the crude arousal that Brad got whenever Helen wore her good robe, but something that came in waves and layered upon itself as it worked to a climax that he never thought a man could achieve. Brandy smiled. “Good thing I’m no longer a man,” she thought.

Dr. Stanley knew that Brandy could get lost within herself and when he saw the sly smile he knew she was thinking of something other than what he was doing. That was okay; he could bring her back. He was skilled in how the body worked, and he always used that knowledge for good, not evil. Well, maybe a little naughtiness…. He leaned in and flicked his tongue across the taut nipple.

“Ooh,” Brandy said as her knees buckles. Thankfully for both of them, the doctor caught her in his arms. There was something to be said for being grasped by a set of firm hands that made a girl know everything was going to work out great.

Dr. Stanley lowered Brandy to her knees. Though he could hold her up indefinitely, there were rewards for allowing a soft landing. He would continue to work his magic on her body, but first his own desires needed attention.

Brandy looked at the white lab coat tent that was pitched before her. She knew what was expected of her and though the first few encounters it took some convincing to bring her to the activity, now she found it quite enjoyable. “Why, doctor, it does appear that there is a growth,” she said in tones of naïve wonder.

“Perhaps you should investigate.”

“Yes, doctor,” Brandy said as she unbuttoned the lab coat.

The doctor let his trousers and boxers fall to the ground, leaving himself fully exposed.

Brandy marveled at the doctor’s anatomy. Before the transformation she would have turned away in disgust, but now she longed for the seven inches of love. She took it in her hand, slowly working her long slender fingers around the base and giving a few strokes. “It is definitely a growth,” she said with a smile.

“Course of action?”

“Further study before reducing the swelling.”
“Proceed.”

Though Brandy didn’t need the permission, she found it fun to ask. What man would turn down being serviced by a beautiful woman? That was exactly what she was, a beautiful woman, and Dr. Stanley was no slouch himself. From her vantage point, he was definitely better than average. She stroked the doctor’s apprentice a few more times before introducing it first to her mouth and then to her tonsils.

Brandy was a woman who didn’t play games when she went after what she wanted, and what she wanted was to provide pleasure for her man. The taste was something that Brandy never thought she could get used to, but apprentice was soon becoming her favorite flavor. It too had layers. The initial saltiness of the doctors sweat as she washed it off with her tongue gave way to the neutral flavor of flesh before turning to the alkaline flavor that rewarded her diligence as she worked up and down, in and out, swirling her tongue around the head and working down to the base.

Dr. Stanley stood with his hands on his hips, rocking ever so slightly back and forth as he aided the nurse with the procedure. Her hot wet mouth engulfing his tongue depressor would cause a lesser man to end the encounter too soon. The key was self-restraint, and he was in complete control of it.

Brandy knew what the doctor thought as her eyes locked onto his face. She reached up with her long, slender fingers and fondled the doctor’s testicles. She wondered if he appreciated the art of a woman regaining control or the stark contrast of red-painted fingernails around his milky white sac.

The doctor quivered in approval. “You are getting quite adept.”

Brandy knew that when words were reintroduced that her work in that area was done. “I had a good teacher.”

“There are still things you need to learn.”

“Like what?”

“Like how wonderful it is to be a woman.”

It was a lesson the Brandy was eager to learn. She took the doctor’s hand and was helped to her feet, but only for a moment as Dr. Stanley stepped into her and gently but firmly lowered her to the bed.

“Where was I before we got sidetracked?” The doctor asked as he loomed over his subject. “Yes, I think I was about here.”

Brandy squealed in such a high pitch that she was sure dogs a mile away were howling as the doctor’s mouth engulfed her nipple and he flicked his tongue over her pleasure buttons. “Another 10 ccs of awesome,” he thought as he sucked hungrily at her breast.

Brandy dug her claws into the bed and held on for dear life as her back arched in pleasure.

The doctor let his tongue circle the nipple two more rotations before allowing his tongue to travel down her firm stomach, circled her navel, and headed south to sweeter pastures.

Brandy was doing everything in her power to not have the illusion that she was a girl dispelled, not the easiest thing to do when your lover is nibbling your inner thigh. She looked over her breast and saw that the fertile pastures had yet to yield a crop, spring had not yet sprung, there was nothing shooting from her loins, but knew that nature could only stay in check for so long.

Dr. Stanley knew exactly what he was doing, knew how long he could tease an area before things went awry. He savored the creamy white thighs, thankful that in her other incarnation, Brandy’s groin never saw the light of day. But how he would love to take her to the beach and show her off. These were thighs that deserved to be seen, but she wasn’t at that point yet. Though she was gorgeous, Brandy still needed to be built up.

Speaking of building, the doctor thought as he moved closer to nirvana. His lips moistened every inch of Brandy’s inner thigh and then made the journey to the valley of delight. He moved the thin sliver of material of the panty’s out of the way as his tongue slithered toward the forbidden tree that had yet to sprout.

Brandy almost jumped out of her skin as her knees jerked towards her breast. There wasn’t a feeling like this in the world, a thrill ride that shot her to the moon and made her eyes rotate on their axis.

Dr. Stanley loved the response and positioned himself so Brandy’s knees stayed pinned in the upright and locked position by his shoulders. It was time to fasten the seatbelts because things were about to get bumpy. He suckled the base of the tree, between the two boulders that, if he played his cards right, would be excavated soon.

Brandy bucked and let out a long, high-pitched moan as her body forced itself further into the doctor’s skilled tongue.

“You are so beautiful, Brandy,” Dr. Stanley said as he hooked the sides of the thong and worked them down her long legs that never seemed to end.

Brandy loved hearing her name; it excited her even more than the doctor’s tongue. He was making love to her, not imagining some two-bit whore or street corner hussy. Hearing her name made her stomach do cartwheels and brought forth streams of lust to the tree that sprouted between her legs.

Brandy looked at the tower that stood between her and the doctor and frowned. She so wished she had a waiting pool for the Doctor’s little man to dive into and explore.

Dr. Stanley returned to his previous position. “You are a beautiful girl Brandy, even still,” he murmured knowingly.

Brandy relaxed. It was a tower, but not a stronghold; there was nothing to defend; she was willingly invaded. The doctor’s tongue knocked at the base of the fortress, and she gave way with a moan and a simple “yes.”

The doctor crawled up Brandy’s body, back towards her delectable melons that were ripe for the tasting. He lowered his mouth and playfully nibbled on the right nipple causing Brandy to buck once again and once again bring her knees to her breasts.

“That’s my girl,” the doctor said as he caught the crook of the knee with his arms and positioned his lone soldier at the mouth of the chasm.

Brandy could feel that a breach was eminent, and also desired. The doctor’s soldier poked and prodded its way between her firm buttocks and she positioned herself to aid in his search.

Given the “all clear," the doctor plunged into the not quite unknown in a single thrust.

Brandy let out a brief gasp of air as waves of pleasure washed over her.

“So beautiful Brandy,” the doctor said as his hand caressed her face. “Feeling okay?” he asked as he slowly pumped hoping to strike it rich in white oil.

Brandy nodded as her hips rhythmically worked in unison with the doctor’s making the engine of love strike on all cylinders.

The doctor moved smoothly but quickened his pace. He knew that once he got into this position with a beautiful woman beneath him, he wouldn’t last as long as he liked and knew that Brandi didn’t have the stamina either.

He let out a groan and drove in deep, looking to hit pay dirt.

Brandy howled as she let loose all her inhibitions.

---

There's a little more to cum. I mean come.

From Abigail:This story is available on Amazon here
for only 99 cents

Helen and Elaine watched the computer screen while soaking in the hot tub together.

“And that is what we call the money shot,” Helen said as she watched her husband and the doctor come to an orgasm at the same time.

“Looks like we have another winner on our hands,” Elaine said as she sipped a champagne glass of orange juice. “Are you going to let him know that you know?”

“Maybe one day,” Helen said with a devious smile. “But right now the rewards are too great, and he deserves to be kept in the dark for going behind my back.”

“Selling homemade porn really bought all of this?” Elaine motioned towards the house.

“And then some. We’ve been completely out of debt for three months outside of running up a few credit card bills for clothes and appearances sake.”

“Did he really spend three grand on clothes?”

Helen laughed. “Of course not. He spent about a grand; I spent the rest. He feels guilty because he doesn’t keep track of what he spends; I use it to my advantage.”

“But how did you know he would be such an easy target for my husband and his desires?”

“When you’re with a person so long, you get to know him. I just want to see her happy, and if she keeps putting on performances like this, we’ll have more than enough to complete the process.”

Elaine smiled. “Then you’d be married to a girl.”

“Not that I mind.” Helen leaned over and gave Elaine a lover’s kiss. They still had a few hours before the second show would begin, and she planned on using that time enjoying herself.

 
I want to thank you for reading my initial publication, I have a lot more planned. I enjoy these character’s and may use them again, perhaps going back in time for the initial encounter between Dr. Stanley and Brandy. I hope this was fun and of good quality, if you enjoyed it, would you indulge me by leaving a review on Amazon? It is much appreciated and will help others discover my works.

Keep a look out for future works, I promise not to keep you waiting long. -X0X0- Abigail

Abigail Speaks: Sorry about such a short last chapter. If I had remembered it was so small I would have put it with my other post, but I think it wraps up the story nicely. Now, I know I'm no anghrad or bailey or tanya allan, but if you can leave me a review on amazon herethat would be peachy.