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Tricia's Summer Project

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Tricia had a gift. She referred to it as "the Touch" and wasn't entirely sure when she realized she had it, and what it was, but gradually over the years she'd learned how to use it. The way it worked was simple. With any person she met for the first time there was—if there was any sort of connection—a moment when the person let his, or her (though it was usually a man), guard down for the first time, when the first feelings of trust entered the interaction. She could feel this moment, see it in his eyes, often even cause it to happen by catching him look at her chest and give him a smile to let him know it was okay, even welcome, and in that moment of acceptance he'd relax and open himself to her, and that's when, if she desired, Tricia touched him. The longer the touch, the more she could learn, however, so she'd begun offering to read the lines in people's hands. Truth was, she couldn't see anything in a person's hands, but in touching them she saw everything. And so it was with Alex.

In his early twenties, the airplane window on one side, Tricia on the other, the aisle seat empty, he'd wondered why she'd chosen to sit next to him instead of leaving the seat empty between him. It couldn't have anything to do with him, could it? This was the question Tricia felt him asking himself. As soon as she'd touched him, she'd felt no resistance as her mind entered his—unusual—and she'd tested this by asking a question designed to cause resistance. To her surprise, he'd offered none, his eyes losing focus and falling, as she desired, to her chest. Repeated the question.

"You've never been with a woman?"

"Never."

"Are you embarrassed to admit that?

"A bit, maybe."

What was interesting to Tricia was she could feel him trying to be embarrassed, a desire she easily eliminated. Alex responded by leaning toward her, tucking his head against the seat back. His eyes went glassy. The plane hit a patch of turbulence, but he seemed to not notice the bump. Tricia pressed her index finger deep into his palm, and that's when she found what she'd been seeking.

In the years since she'd perfected her gift, she had, of course, come in contact with her share of gender "flexible" individuals, as she put it. She loved her femme-boys, her sissies, and truly thought of them as hers. Though she never saw them again, she held a special place for them in her heart. And this had become a problem. She wanted one for her own. And finally, she'd found a candidate. Alex's nature came to her in a flash: a perfect little pinup doll, obsessed with makeup and one woman, Tricia. Big hair, huge boobs and a tiny, soft clitty between her legs as a reminder of who he'd been and the gift she'd bestowed upon him. All of it wrapped up in a desire to please her, all of it contingent on her wanting him that way.

Whether this qualified as "seeing his soul" was a question she couldn't answer. Sometimes what she saw was encouraging, that of a person totally at peace and happy with who he was, but more often than not she found a person needing a little help, sometimes (like Alex) needing a lot of help. If she desired, she could provide that help by erasing the blocks to him being who he truly was. Usually the changes were simply mental, but the mind-body connection was intense and when the mind changed, the body often followed—especially when the changes desired were physical. Sometimes, in the mild cases, the help she provided was easy enough, not that different from wiping clean a chalkboard, but in other cases it took longer.

Tricia knew she had a great deal of power in these moments, and she'd always exercised it with caution, not imposing her own desires on the person, even as she wished she could. For this was Tricia's own desire, to remake a man, to find one who would truly allow her to enter his psyche and reshape him mentally, and physically, into her perfect submissive partner. Someone like Alex.

"Hey, listen to me, seriously," Tricia's index finger moved to his wrist and he looked her in the eyes. True, her objective beauty was part of why he'd consented to letting her read his palm, plus it was a way of killing some time on the flight to Minneapolis where both of them lived, but the other part of it was a general trustworthiness — it seemed to start with her smile which had a kindness he couldn't quite put his finger on. "It's really okay, honestly I think it's kind of sweet."

"Yeah, that's what I always here, but at my age, to have not done it yet? My friends tell me I need to stop telling women beforehand..." Alex stopped himself, realizing what he'd just said. Foot in mouth.

"So," she asked, "you were thinking about me as a potential...first?"

Finally, she felt some resistance. Weak, but there, which was good, she liked a challenge. The ding and light to fasten seatbelts gave Alex a temporary reprieve from this question. He had to hand it to her, she was very direct. The significance of her curves being the real reason he so rarely looked in her direction, afraid he'd be unable to not gawk—he wished she hadn't requested a blanket as it was now covering more of her than he liked, although that was probably for the best; he'd watched her walk onto the plane and nearly died with each step, figuring the chances of being assigned a seat next to her were somewhere next to zero, yet here they were. Was that a sign? Was the universe cutting him some slack? The heck with it.

"How could I not?"

For the first time since they'd started talking her smile broke into genuine surprise. She felt his sincerity, the statement totally unfiltered from his true desires.

"That was a sweet thing to say."

It was? Alex thought it incredibly forward which was not his way of approaching women, or life for that matter. He blushed. Again.

"Listen, your friends as silly. Men pick up bad habits because they only think with one "thing" that have to be unlearned. You are in the fortunate position of being a potential excellent student."

Those bad habits, she explained, were primarily an inability to see beyond her boobs and to focus on their own pleasure. Alex plainly had trouble not staring at her boobs but that could have its benefit, and it's not like she hadn't noticed his nicely lean frame—his waist would conform nicely to a corset. She liked his eyes, too, with the right makeup they'd be lovely. The rest of him needed some work, there was a reason why he'd failed to find any serious relationships. The ten-dollar haircut and glasses that hadn't been popular since the 1980s would have to go. The blushing when confronted with an attractive woman, that he likely couldn't help—but she found it rather endearing. A few other comments led her to believe he didn't have much family around; basically he'd thrown himself into college and work for a consulting business that was entirely online and left the rest unexplored. And then there were the dreams he had most nights, often in the haze of waking, where he was a gorgeous, ripe, big-boobed slut getting ravished over and over by—Tricia felt herself get a little warm, almost intimidated by the potential.

Well. Everyone needs a summer project, she decided, and Alex would be hers.

For the next several minutes, she emphasized—okay maybe exaggerating a little so he would realize pleasing her was no easy task—her frustration with some of her past partners. And as she spoke, as she laid out what she deemed "a little proposal," she offered some of her blanket so within a minute they were safely covered. No one sat across the aisle and the seat belt sign assured them no one should come wandering by so she let her hand rest on the inside of his thigh. He was struggling, she could see it on his face, but also too polite and nervous to do what so many men would do—grab her hand and push it onto his cock—and for this she rewarded him by doing so. She couldn't be sure, but as expected he felt small, definitely below average, and this pleased her for it would make her task easier. Touching him here, allowed her the most direct access to his psyche and she used it to eliminate the final layers of resistance. She tried to resist the urge to offer any suggestions, she wanted to see what he would do on his own, but inserted one idea—that as much as he'd desire release, he'd not be able to achieve it until seeing her again.

And then she made the pitch. Her proposal, she explained, was this: she'd help him to understand women and if he did as she asked he'd never again be nervous around them, "And if you do that, I guarantee you'll have all the pussy you want."

His eyes widened at the word, not just the promise, but the way she'd put it. Had he ever heard a woman use the word "pussy" before? He didn't think so. For a brief second it occurred to Alex he was way, way over his head but she kept smiling, and her palm kept rubbing him and he simply didn't care. He also felt the need to admit not only was he a virgin but aside from similar bits of fun to what was presently taking place he'd never gone much further, never seen a woman naked (okay, one not on the Internet or in a movie) and was perpetually stuck in The Friend Zone, as his male friends put it.

Alex was getting close to a climax and unsure what to do about this given the situation, but also not wanting her to stop, when the captain's voice broke through announcing their imminent landing. Flight attendants scurried past and she withdrew her hand, apologizing, saying she hoped he wasn't going to be uncomfortable, knowing he would be, he lied and said he would be fine, phone numbers were exchanged, the landing gear dropped and they quickly became part of the flurry of passengers elbowing their way up the aisle and pawing through the overhead bins.

Outside the gate, they found each other again, Tricia stifling a smile at the damp penny-sized circle to the left of his zipper; it tempted her to invite him to come home with her but she wanted to do this right. Off the plane, the possibility of what lay ahead became more real, this and admitting that she found herself not just curious but genuinely liking him only made what came next a little hard for her if necessary, she had some planning ahead of her.

"Here's what I'd like to do. I'm going to call you. Okay? That's how our society teaches us to act. The girl's supposed to wait for the guy to call and since you're learning about what it's like on the other side of things, that's what we'll do, okay?"

"Okay." His eyes said it wasn't.

"What's wrong?"

He hated to ask the question. "You're not messing with me are you?"

Again, she hit him with the same smile that left him blabbering on the plane then reached up, slipped a hand behind his head and kissed him with great purpose, pushing his lips open with hers, penetrating his mouth with her tongue, then pulling away. Before he knew what had happened she was gone.

She waited a week to call, doing so one of the harder things she'd had to do in awhile. As much as she wanted to see him again, she also needed to make sure he could do as instructed; it would also give him plenty of time to think things over. Understandably, he was a little quiet on the phone at first, trying to not act too excited she'd called, trying to convince himself he should be upset about her for waiting. She responded to all of this directly, saying it was so he'd understand what it was like. He understood.

"To show you I'm not messing with you, I'd like you to come over."

"To your house?"

"No, silly, to Adventureland."

"Right."

He was on time to the minute, as she expected he would be. She greeted him at the door in a robe that did a poor job of disguising her curves, not as he expected she would be.

"I have a question." She remained in the doorway letting him look. "On the plane, did you say you'd never seen a woman naked?"

"Yes." Alex wasn't embarrassed anymore. It was true. And the way she said it, he knew she didn't think it was strange. She took his hand, pulled him inside, led him to the bedroom and told him to undress in front of her, also a first while she turned down the lights. When he had done as told, she sat him on the bed, undid her robe and let it fall open, trying not to laugh at the way he looked at her. Hard as it was to comprehend, there was a time when she'd felt shy about her body and every now and then the old insecurities surfaced but the way he looked at her was both hot and, frankly, a little funny, somewhat cartoonish in how his eyes bulged out. Holding him by the shoulders, she pulled him to her, allowing him to kiss and explore; predictably he started with her breasts, but soon she pushed his head between them and down, telling him to kiss her belly and pressing his hands against thighs whose strength was poorly masked by their softness.

"You like that?"

Alex made a cute whimpering moan that sounded like a yes. She pushed his head back, "Tell me."

"I love it."

"You love what?"

"Your softness, your strength...everything." He was bordering on incoherence so she pushed his head back down and watched with a little surprise as his eyes closed and he worked his way across her upper thigh to her hip; it was as if he was drunk off her, and watching the way he reacted as his hands roamed her body, and maybe this was why she forgot this was his first time and forgot her initial promise to herself to go slow with him and why he found himself pinned to the bed, her belly against his cock, his face lost in her cleavage while she slipped a pillow under his head and moved forward to lower her pussy to his waiting lips. She loved holding him between her thighs, the hell with going slow. The whole point was she dictated what happened. She knew what she wanted next and that it would help him be the lover she needed. First, though, she wanted to cum, so she pumped her hips against his tongue until sooner than expected she came with a shout, feeling her wetness dampen her thighs and his face.

Rolling off him, he asked if he'd done okay and she smiled and told him he'd done wonderfully, kissing him deeply, tasting herself as she pressed her tongue deep into his mouth.

He was wondering what might be next as he move to her dresser and open a drawer and tell him to put the pillow under his hips. In doing so the zip of what sounded like vinyl or a strap of some sort being tightened causing him to look up and what he saw surprised him so much he didn't know how to react. Tricia was crawling stepping into two large looping straps that she pulled up over her hips, but what caused his heart to palpitate was from between her legs swung a curved and smooth jet black dildo about six inches long.

And then the soft warmth of her body was upon him, her fingers intertwined with his, her breath against his neck as she told him to relax that it would feel good and he'd promised, after all, to do as ask and that he wanted to learn what it felt like and he couldn't really know until she was inside him. The heat coming from his cock complicated things and she made the quick executive decision to take him inside of her first. She reached between his legs and pushed his erection between her thighs, pulling her own "cock" forward and sitting down upon him, burying the shaft in her down to his balls in one quick motion.

"Holy...oh my God," said Alex. Not exactly Shakespeare, she liked it anyway.

"Not yet, honey."

"Oh...oh...kay?" Alex didn't know how to describe what he was feeling but he could feel her grinding against his pubic bone the same way she'd pumped herself against his tongue; she was using his body exactly as she wished which, deep down, was something he'd always desired. As he admitted this to himself Tricia began pumping harder, this time emitting a series of quiet pants until stopping and holding herself quite still.

Alex's hand gripped her hips and pushed deeper into her, he'd helped her cum twice in this, his first time, which is pretty good right? Time for his own—

And then Tricia rose up, freeing his slick cock to fall hard and pulsing against his stomach. He was about to ask if he could cum when her lips again found his. The kiss silenced him and she whispered for him to relax.

"Lay back," she ordered.

From the bed stand she retrieved a small jar from which she scooped a dollop of white lotion, straddled him and began stroking his cock with the lotion. It felt cool, and didn't seem to warm to his or her skin.

"It's amazing what you can find online," she said.

Alex's cock stayed erect — or was it? It felt hard, yet felt as if it was shrinking in her hand. He couldn't quite see it, it wasn't long enough to poke out from the top of her fist, but then she began massaging it into his balls and—was it...smaller?

"What's—"

She cut him off. "If we don't want you thinking with it, it's best if we get it out of the way, don't you agree?"

Alex wasn't sure if he did, but her hand felt so good—each stroke milking just a little more resistance from him and his his shrinking cock. Tricia pulled Alex's head up so she could watch.

"Don't feel bad. It's better this way. Relax and let the lotion do its job...there we go...almost there... Perfect."

His balls had shrunk into two soft mounds—Tricia knew in panties they'd look like pussy lips—and his cock was now no longer than her pinky finger, with a soft, diminished head.

"Princess-sized. The perfect sissy clitty," pronounced Tricia.

If the web site was to be believed, he'd still be able to get hard, but to a maximum height of three inches, if that.

"Please—why—I don't understand?!?"

"Are you sure you don't?" Tricia moved so his clit nudged her own, felt it stiffen, and barely slip inside her, then slip out.

"Holy...oh my God," said Alex. Not exactly Shakespeare, she liked it anyway.

"Don't come, honey, okay?"

"Oh...oh...kay? But why?"

"We can't leave you with something you could ever confuse with being appealing to a woman, at least not to one who wanted a good fucking. A woman's g-spot is usually about four inches inside her, so you're well short of ever reaching her there. You'd just frustrate her."

"Oh no..."

"Sssh. It's okay, sweetie. This will be much, much better for you. Won't it?"

"I—"

"Won't it?" Tricia's thighs tightened around him and he got the message.

"Yes. Yes it will be better for me."

Alex didn't know how to describe what he was feeling but she was using his body exactly as she wished which, deep down, was something he'd always desired. As he admitted this to himself Tricia began rubbing harder, rubbing her clit against his erect by diminished cock that wasn't a cock anymore, this time emitting a series of quiet pants until stopping and holding herself quite still.

Alex's hand gripped her hips and tried to push inside her, failing again. With this touch, she revealed to him what she'd seen in him before, in his dreams, in his mind, watched him arch his back and grasp his chest in search of the breasts he desired. Something almost imperceptible changed in his body language, his motions becoming softer, more feminine in their motion and she left him on the bed, and moved to her dresser where she opened a drawer and tossed him a pair of pink panties and pink thigh high stockings. From her closet, she found a pair of pink heels that were a little tight but would fit.

"Put them all on and get on your knees."

He did so without resistance. Hearing the zip of what sounded like vinyl or a strap of some sort being tightened causing him to look up and what he saw surprised him so much he didn't know how to react. Tricia was stepping into two looping straps that she pulled up over her hips, but what caused his heart to palpitate was from between her legs swung a curved and smooth dildo about six inches long and so realistic for a moment he thought it was the real thing. It was so distracting he didn't notice two more had been added to the nightstand, one of about eight inches, another so large he was frightened to guess as its size.

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