The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

What secret did Stella tell for Will to seek his revenge by putting her frozen-in-place semi-naked body on display at the mall? Perhaps it had something to do with the following.

PART 1 — ARRIVING AT THE CLUB

The Monte Carlo pulled up at the Valet Parking stand just up the street from the Club. The neighborhood is mostly newer industrial, lots of warehouses with loading docks for 18 wheeler trailers, and close to deserted this time of night. Though there was a lot of street parking, the club had its own fenced lot and didn’t encourage its patrons running back and forth to their vehicles any more than needed.

A discrete neon sign glowed in the front window, The Babey Steps. A smaller sign, just painted glass with incandescent bulbs behind it declared, Members only. It would be hard to find this place without looking. Some found it difficult to find even when they were looking.

All four car doors opened, and with a swish of skirt and clack of heeled shoes they headed towards the box office. The driver hands the car keys and a five dollar bill to the regular car hop who is talking to the large man sitting on a stool besides the closed booth—it’s only used in bad weather and this is a fine summer night, warm with the sun still setting at this late hour. The seated man stands as they approach, his strong features show that he’s a Native-American, and he looks very handsome in the setting sun, if it wasn’t for the scars. Everything about him screams “Bouncer” from the muscle shirt and tattoos on his beefy arms, though he smiles when he recognizes the older pair. “My you are looking fine tonight. I love the dress. Is that a new necklace?” he asks the driver. “You look divine dear. And you’ve brought some new guests. A couple of young beauties. Charmed.”

He takes each of the youngsters’ hands in his in turn and kisses them. One smiles sweetly, the other turns a bright crimson, but both say, “Thank you Mr. Proudhen.” They’d been coached as to what to expect and what to say.

“You polite young ladies are of legal drinking age?” he asks. They nod.

“You’ve come on a good night. Besides the usual floorshow and Filthy Freda’s stale jokes we’ve got something new. A magician or hypnotist of something. She’s supposed to be good; her regular gig in Haverville is closed for a private function tonight, so we booked her.”

“You’ll still need to see her nibs and show your ID, I take it that you are sponsoring them tonight, Carla,” he asks the driver. “My gosh the way you look is super, Sheila.”

Carl says yes with his lipsticked lips. The big man is in full drag, and while no one would mistake him for Miss America, it’s amazing what a few hours of primping and a pair of skillful make-up artists and a custom fit wardrobe can do.

“And what are your names?”

Confidently, “Stella.” She’s beaming, here at last, Tonight was all her idea, and she’d put a lot of effort into talking Carl and Sheila to take her. Not to mention...

“Willma,” shyly names herself.

They enter the club and go to get the newbies ID’d and given guest passes.

PART 2 — THE EGG’S ARRIVAL + 1 MONTH — THE NAMING

One afternoon about three weeks after the night when I asked Gail to host that special dinner party, she returned home from the store, pulled into the garage and carried a couple of bags of groceries into the kitchen. She has dressed to stay cool in the heat, rocking canary yellow runner’s shorts and a matching top that could be mistaken for the upper piece of an almost modest bikini. The teen-age bag boys had an amusing silent conflict as to who carried her bags to the car that they couldn’t quite hide from her.

Cool air chills the beads of sweat from the air-conditioned breeze flowing from the heating vents, perking her nipples as she gives her shoulders an involuntary shake, which causes her breasts to swing back and forth. “Central air—worth every penny,” she thinks as she runs cold water over her hands and splashes a whole double palm-full on her face and neck. Drops of water bead as they fall from her nose and chin fall between her breasts and, and what doesn’t get trapped in her top dribbles into her exposed belly button and wets the top hem of her skirt. It’s a scorcher out there.

Loud music comes from Stella’s room.

This would be par for the course on a summer day, Stella was left to do whatever she wanted most days, and it occurred to Gail that she may be entertaining one of her friends for a bit of sky rockets in flight. If it wasn’t for the big red circle around today in the kitchen calendar, that is.

“STELLA!” she yells.

“I’M IN MY ROOM,” Stella calls back.

Gail replies, “DON’T YOU HAVE TO REGISTER TODAY?”

“SHIT!” Stella flies down the stairs, dressed in a light summer skirt and halter top, running shoes and a large ‘kitchen sink’ purse.

“I forgot Mum. Can I borrow your car? I need to get there like now.”

“Slow down. Yes, you can borrow my car. You still have three hours until they close. Don’t speed. If you get pulled over you’ll be late for sure.”

Stella thanks her mum with a kiss on the cheek and runs out the door. Gail calls, “Slow down!” after her.

“How the hell could she forget?” Gail wonders. It’s the only thing Stella had to do all month. Because of a bout of mono the past fall, she was incomplete in two courses’ required assignments. The school had let her graduate with her class, but withheld her transcripts until the last two major papers were complete.

She smiled proudly remembering Stella coming in with her final marks last week, an ‘A’ and an ‘A+’. But this meant that if she wanted to go to school at the community college with Rose and Will, she had to register by the end of today. Or else she had to wait until September and take whatever classes had slots still available, usually the least convenient times with the worst teachers. And Stella said she wanted to take the same introduction to English Literature class as Rose so they could study together.

The music is still blasting out of Stella’s stereo—David Bowie’s latest Scary Monsters and Super Creeps. When Gail enters her room, there’s Will, frozen in the center of the room. Gail blinks as it takes her a few seconds to recognize him and figure out what’s going on. Stella’d obviously done the “Big Doll” command on him; he’d unfreeze in less than fifteen minutes and Stella would have to pay the penalty—tough, that’d teach her, so Gail’s first thought was to close the door and walk away. Except that Will is dressed in a red nightie she’s never seen before, high heels—where did they find ones that fit, silk stockings and one of Gail’s best wigs, shoulder-length, for when she wants to go blonde. His face is perfectly made-up, foundation, blush, lipstick, his eyes have eyeliner and eye shadow, his lashes curled and eyebrows plucked. Nail polish on his fingers and toes shines cherry red. And something was causing his chest to fill out giving him a figure. Falsies with fake nipples? Gail certainly didn’t own any, Stella might.

“Will Bullman, you look adorable.”

He says nothing back. His eyes though seem to be flitting back and forth in panic. His penis pokes up through the top of pink panties—stretched tight. “That looks uncomfortable,” she says as she lowers them, and it bobs down, half-erect.

“Stella had to run out for a bit, dear. I don’t think I should leave you like this. What if there’s a fire?” she teases reaching out and gently stroking his dick. It stiffens a bit. “I wonder if you are as yummy as I remember.” Taking the head in her mouth, she circles it with her tongue. “Mmmmm. No I can’t leave you like this at all.” He’s become fully erect and has closed his eyes tight. How long has Stella been gone? Maybe ten minutes. Better hurry before he unfreezes on his own.

Usually Gail likes to give long, teasing head, just enough to get a man stiff, and then finish elsewhere, but there’s not time for that today. She challenged herself to beat the clock. She attacked the scrumptious job of getting Will off with gusto, circling the tip of his dick with her lips to suck and lick, and using one hand to stroke up and down the shaft and the other to fondle his balls. In what seems like no time Will cums into her mouth and slumps from the artificially strict posture Stella had placed him in.

“Delicious, Thank you,” she says, swallowing with a smile. “Now what is going on young man?”

Will is trapped; he doesn’t have the nerve to tell her it’s none of her business and order her out, but feels embarrassed by being discovered this way.

“I promise not to tell.” She runs her tongue around the inside of her mouth to get any of the last drops of Will-sauce that may be found there.

Will explains that since the night at Carl and Sheila’s, Stella has sometimes asked him to come over so she could dress him up. “It got her really hot that night.” Gail gave him a doubtful look. “OK, it got us both hot that night.” He then asked when Stella was coming back.

“Oh, not for a couple of hours. At least. The line’ll be that long, that’s why she should have gone to register earlier.” Gail sits on the bed and motions Will to sit beside her. There’s a big cardboard box full of clothes on it, and running her had through it, she can’t find anything she recognizes.

“That’s all Rose’s. Things she can’t wear anymore since the Egg grew her bust. Sheila gave them to Stella. I’m pretty close in size.”

“Except for these,” Gail says as she pulls down the front of Will’s nightie, expecting to see some kind of padding. Instead she reveals a nice little set of A cup breasts. “What? Will, are you taking hormone shots? That’s unhealthy.”

“It’s the magic cream. You know if two ladies spread the cream on their boobs and rub them together that they both plump up, and the smaller ones grow to be halfway in size between how big they are and the size of the larger chest?” She nods, sort of remembering this being talked about—she didn’t pay much attention as she has no need for a bigger bust. “Well it works with guys too. Stella puts cream on us both, and I grow half as big as she is. It goes away again. How long it stays depends on how long we rub together.”

“OK, and you let her do all this because...”

Will goes scarlet, “Because we bump uglies while we wait until I’m back to normal. Rose is my girl, but Stella has a sweet sweet ass. If I do this she’ll let me tap it as many times as I can. Er, we do other stuff too.” Gail nods.

“And how long is this changed?” she asks while pointing to Will’s chest.

“About two hours for every five minutes of rubbing. We haven’t done much longer than 15 minutes, but it seems to keep to that ratio.”

Gail reaches over and strokes his tit. “Do you like dressing up? Do you like having boobies?” She tweaks one of his nipples.

“It’s like when we were little kids, playing dress-up. I hope this is OK, but sometimes she puts me in the clothes your ex left behind. So it’s not always about turning me into a big Barbie, sometimes I’m executive Ken. Or country club Ken. I think the girl just likes dolls and I’m life-size.” Will glances at the dolls and plush toys on her bedroom shelves; Gail follows his eyes and nods. “Kinky right? But harmless. The doll part can be boring, but the fucking afterward is pretty spectacular. The doll part is what gets Stella so hot, she just loves making out with her dolls. Which at that point is me.”

Gail nods. “It’s fine. I just never got around to packing those suits up to ship or take to goodwill, and he’s never going to come for them. Do they fit? They can be altered There’s a few pretty expensive suits in there still if you want them. I know he doesn’t care, he likes new clothes better.”

“Thanks. I’m good for clothes. If you want to give them away, why not to Marc? I don’t think he has ever had anything that really good quality in his life.”

She nods thoughtfully. Yes, a dress-up day with Marc might be fun. Like daughter, like mother.

“At first I was really embarrassed. It’s not like I want to be a girl. Like I said it’s dress-up. I don’t think Stella wants me to be a girl either, not really despite these,” he says placing his hands lightly over Gail’s where she is cupping his boobs. “And she likes to have my dick out and hard while she works, she’ll lick it or suck the head every time it seems to relax even a bit. When I finally go off it’s like Hiroshima.”

Gail pictures a mushroom cloud of his tasty sperm blasting into the sky exploding from Will’s circumcised helmet, white rain coming down all over town, young school girls in knee socks to old women using walkers with their heads back and mouths open to catch falling drops on their tongues, and feels amused and then disturbed by the image.

“At their dinner Carl and Sheila described a special bar—a club they sometimes go to where guys dress up like ladies. Sheila said that they don’t usually want to really be women, but get off on acting-out the part for a while. Makes sense to me. What we are playing with feels more like David Bowie than that tennis player who changed her sex. I don’t suddenly lust after Troy like all you girls do. I love my dick and it loves me. Stella loves it. Rose loves it. Sheila loves it. Vicky loves it. I think you love it too, the way you rub it like that. Keep going. That feels so good... it loves you all back! Whenever it can! And acting like Bowie’s cool with me. I’m usually such a square, and this isn’t. Having tits? Well that’s just part of the dress-up, like putting on lipstick or a skirt. But more fun.”

“But I still don’t want anyone to know. Well, not my family. Everyone who was at Carl and Sheila’s does and they all promised not to tell unless I said OK. Sheila is the one who first dressed me up. There’s Vicky too. And now you know. Please don’t tell anyone else. Now I kind of look forward to it. It feels good. We always have great intense sex. But it’s weird.”

“Yes, you are a kinky boy, a very kinky boy,” Gail is really getting off on fondling Will’s tits, she’d had it done to herself more times than she can remember and done it with female lovers, and yet never totally got the attraction, but is beginning to see the light. He hasn’t stopped her yet or drawn away, so she keeps stroking and tweaking while her other hand carefully squeezes his shaft. “There is just something so darn cute when Will is dressed and made-up like this,” she thinks. “It’s the pecker, it’s so out of place but perfect, if Will was a girl, she’d be pretty, though nothing super-special, but with that perfect pink porker poking proudly out, it was... positively magnificent. Will’s wonderful willing willy.”

She stops for a second. Dare she? Yes! Her reluctance to ask for what she wants has really faded since her night as the mistress to Andy, Annette, Marc and Troy. “I have a proposal for you. I want to try that magic cream thing.”

“Do you mean on top of what I’ve already got?”

“Yes. Five more minutes worth—two hours. Stella won’t be back until at least then. And we can ‘bump uglies’ until you are back to all-manly Will again.”

“Can I take off this? And the makeup?”

She stands up and so does he. She gives him a long, hard look from shoulder-length wig to glossy toenails.

“No.”

His favorite part of the next couple of hours is the shower they share together in her big walk-in fixture. They soap each other to slippery excitement, with Gail paying special attention to his now big tits. He wasn’t just half her bust size, he was half the size difference between Stella’s tit size, who had enlarged him in the first place and Gail’s substantial hooters. He’d rubbed his nipples when jerking off before, but having tits was different. More sensitive. More fun, no wonder they were called fun bags. When Gail leaned in to suck on them he thought he’d die. He didn’t mind when she redid his make-up afterwards before they started rolling around on her huge king size bed. He didn’t even mind it when she lubed up her butt plug and popped it up his ass. In fact he loved it, especially when he was fucking her and it danced around his ass ring.

Before the shower she took him to her full length mirror to look at himself, with her standing behind one arm draped over his shoulder, her boobs pressed flat—or at least flatter—against his back. Stella had been all about how he looked to her, Gail knew that Will had to get more comfortable with how he appeared when dressed and made-up like this if he was going to let her do this again, and an encore was certainly in the cards. She told him how pretty he was, and how sexy he looked while stroking his manhood, nuzzling his ear, and fingering one of his nipples as they watched themselves in the reflection. Will reached one hand backwards to cup her pussy, slipping the middle finger into her wet well, which made her gasp. She then used her Egg-given gifts to suck on his finger and wrap her nether lips around his hand, swallowing it up and making it gooey.

He couldn’t stop himself from spinning her around and while both watched themselves in the mirror bend her over and thrust himself deeply inside her. Gail realized that this was the first act of the day where she hadn’t been the instigator. This was nice too, just letting go an having Will take charge. So she concentrated on using her extra special cunt muscles to show him what a bit of experience could bring against all the young pussy he was now getting. She also wondered if he was going next door to boff Sheila as well as Rose—sure, but how often. Knowing Sheila it had to be a lot. Gail pictured Will with a kind of “Deer in the Headlights” look as Sheila stared predatorially at him, cougar-like you could say. Gail couldn’t stop an unexpected snort of laughter at the image in her head as he pounded away.

The guffaw triggered her orgasm while he pushed all the way into her and held still as she stretched and squeezed around his root making him moan too.

“On your hands and knees,” he said. Then catching himself added, “Please.”

Third stroke in Will threw his head back and shouted, “I LOVE IT!” and started to guffaw-prod and snicker-poke.

Facing the mirror head on Will and Gail watched themselves laughing as he did her pussy then slipping up her ass, her jugs hanging down and jiggling with every thrust and giggle. Him kneeling behind her bolt upright, maybe even leaning back a little so his jugs wiggled side to side as well as up and down until he put his finger in her cunt and gave the cilantro command.

Later, she helped Will use make-up and nail polish remover to clean his face and digits and put away the clothes properly, anything soiled went in her hamper. Watching him pull on his jeans she looks up at the shelf where a stuffed Flintstones plush car sits among a dozen of Stella’s favorite dolls. “Let’s call you Willma.”

Gail didn’t try to keep secret from Stella that she knew what was up with Will and that she’d released him. “After all dear,” she smirked, “you need to learn to put away your toys.”

PART 3 — THE CLUB

The foursome entered a small office off the entrance. Stella and Willma take the seats in front of the desk, Carla and Sheila stand by the door. Through a second door behind the desk a tiny jovial older woman comes in and smiles at them all.

“Carla, Sheila, it’s been too long.”

Carla beams back, “it sure has, Dolores. We’ve been busy. This is Stella and Willma. Friends of my daughter. We’re bringing them here as a special treat.”

“Wonderful. I hope you both have a great time,” she turns serious. “I don’t know what you’ve been told about this place, but I need tell you what you can expect and what the rules are. If you don’t want to go any further, fair enough. It won’t change anything with Carla and Sheila. In fact if you want at any time we’ll call you a cab and you can go home without them.” She looks expectantly and they nod.

“Super! OK, this is a girls only club. No men. But we define girls pretty loosely, and looking at you, you pass. It’s about attitude and fashion, not plumbing. We are called Babey Steps because we are very strict about what we allow in order to provide a high level of safety to our delicate flowers. This is an excellent place for girls new to the scene. Some find us tame, but that’s ok, if you are looking for a wilder experience, we can give you some names of other places to go and will welcome you back the next time we see you.”

The club tended to have three types of patrons in about equal measure, guys dressed as girls were the most flamboyant, they were there to show off and to be seen and admired, straight women who came with their husband or boyfriend who was into the scene or women who were into the campiness or were turned on by the man-girls, and lesbians looking for a night out who for one reason or another didn’t like or were bored with the Daughters of Sister Sappho, the only bar especially catering to gay females in the area. Full transgender patrons were rare, though welcome. So actually over half the patrons really were women 24 hours a day.

“Rule 1—Doing anything illegal, particularly drug use on the premises is automatic banishment. If you are caught selling we will tell the authorities. When we first opened we were raided about once a week. There are politicians that don’t like us. Fancy that, what did we ever do to them? That means no doing lines in the bathroom and no tokes in the parking lot. That’s why we have valet parking, no running out to the car for a toot or a hoot. And that extends to all our neighbors doorways and the alleys around here. We are determined not to be a local nuisance and take it seriously. Now we are friendly with the cops, well some of them. The biker bars across town give them far more trouble and we even have a couple of undercovers who hang around here off hours.”

“Rule 2—Sex. Not on premises either, sorry. We have a liquor permit to protect. Kissing is allowed, and you can’t dance without touching each other, but if you want to take it further, go home. Or there is a pretty clean no-tell motel a mile or so away off 18th. We’re not affiliated, but I can say I’ve never heard any complaints. Don’t forget to visit our gift shop first to make it a truly memorable evening.”

“Rule 2a—We want you to meet new friends, but we take your comfort seriously. Don’t kiss or touch someone intimately without permission. If someone tells you to slow down, then slow down. If someone tells you to go away, do so. No really means no, every time. Don’t say it as a tease, find some way else to say the same thing. My advice is to be polite about it. If someone isn’t leaving you alone or being too aggressive, tell a waitress or the bartender.”

“Rule 3—Any violence will get you tossed out. We may take you back or not some other night, there are two sides to every story, after all. Yes, emotions run high, but there is no excuse for even a slap. If someone is verbally abusing you, walk away and if it is serious tell a waitress or bartender. We keep Joe Proudhen on for good reason, and I have the police on speed dial. Since we’ve been open it’s never needed to be used. As I said, if you want a rougher time, go elsewhere. ”

“Carla and Sheila are your sponsor’s tonight. When you leave if you’ve been good, and I know you will, you sweeties, you’ll be offered membership. That means you can come here without them. You can’t bring guests yourself until your fifth visit, which will be marked on your membership card.”

“Here are your guest passes. The first two drinks are full price, ten whole dollars each, isn’t that scandalous? But get this card clipped for each, and once you have enjoyed the first two, you can order more at a price closer to what you’d pay at any bar without entertainment, and we don’t collect a cover charge. But the first two drinks are paid for in advance.”

Carla opens her purse and brings out a wallet and pays for the four.

“One last thing, this is the only time you will be asked unless there is trouble, but I need to see some IDs. Of who you are in daylight hours. It won’t go past me, but you babes look so sweet and fresh that I want our waitresses to serve you without getting in trouble.”

Willma and Stella did look fantastic. As always, anything that Stella wore flattered her already fantastic hind quarters, and the blue fringed skirt and sparkly rhinestone studded blouse had been purchased for tonight. Her open-toed platform heels weren’t the best idea for running the 100 yard dash, in fact she had to be careful when walking, but they added three inches to her short body.

Willma’s clothes were also purchased for the occasion. Sheila hadn’t been able to talk Will into going to the dress store and trying them on, so she got out the tape measure and her and Stella went shopping the next day. What they came back with was a lot more daring than what Will would have selected, but as he left it to them; they let their imaginations run wild. The skirt was quite modest in length, ending just above the knees, slit at the front so Willma’s legs would show when walking or dancing. Large-size tan sheer silk stockings fit snugly right up to the top of his legs, which felt fantastic. Stella had found some pointy-toed silver boots with mid-height heels for him to wear; they were covered with sparkly half beads and laced up mid-calf. Where light hit them they shone in all directions like a disco ball. They’d dolled him up when dressing for tonight, “to make it easier without all that squirming around,” Sheila said. They hadn’t shown him any of the clothes before this, so that he couldn’t object or otherwise freak out. They had set up their dressing room in Sheila’s bedroom, and Stella and her started a full three hours on changing Will to Willma before heading to the club.

“We’ll need to shave his legs,” Sheila observed. “Not much chest hair but we should do that too.”

“How about the balls?” Stella asks, hopefully.

“I don’t think we need to.” Sheila sees Stella pout a bit at that. “But if you want to, why not? Ass as well.” Stella skips out of the room to get grooming scissors, shaving foam and a fresh Lady Schick from the bathroom. “At least he’ll hold still,” Sheila thinks.

Stella returns singing that novelty hit from a few years back, “Shaving cream, shave nice and clean...”

Will would have stopped them if he could. He was proud of his pubic hair; he’d seen its arrival, quite late for his age if judged by the post Varsity baseball game communal gym showers, as a sign of maturity and entrance to adulthood. He was sentimental about them. At one point he even named the first one “Harry”. But he knew they’d grow back.

There had been some debate about Willma’s bust-line. In order to get the new clothes to fit snugly, they needed the exact size. While Stella had gone shopping with Sheila, on measuring day Gail had been invited over instead. Will agreed to it on the promise of a three-way with the ladies once done. First Sheila had expanded his chest with the cream and rubbing technique, then Gail. This gave Willma a substantial 36 inch bust, the biggest he’s ever experienced. It would have been larger if it had been first Gail then Rose, but the women respected Will’s request about telling and all Rose knew is that her folks were taking Stella and Will out to do something weird.

After the measuring Will got his promised sex, Sheila was completely turned on by having his fresh hangers dangle against her chin while he stroked inside her VJ. Like the rest of his skin, the new flesh tasted fantastic as the ladies took a teat each into their mouths while he recovered for another round. Sheila appreciated having Betty next door, she had stocked up on the revival tonic, and a jug of it sat in her fridge next to the OJ ensuring several more trips ’round the bed. The ladies even motor-boated between his boobs, they’d both experienced it from the other end, and it send them into peals of laughter. Later he’d cum all over Gail’s boobs and Sheila licked it all off and into Gail’s pussy to be sucked out by Sheila.

Sheila had a wicked thought that she filed away for later. If Rose did the transformation, would there be a “Milky Will” command? “Milky Willma?” Would that break the “no incest” rule if Sheila was to use it on him? Rose was sure to learn of this and try it out sooner or later. How would Will feel about having his boobs squirt? What would it taste like? Inquiring minds want to know.

Gail agreed to come back on the evening of the outing to reset Will to the same big size. They timed it to have him revert, like Cinderella’s dress and coach, but not at midnight, at 3am a couple of hours after closing time. It was an unspoken agreement, but all fully expected Will and Stella would join Carl and Sheila in their bedroom after leaving the club for an unwinding after-party.

Gail had thought to join them when she heard of the outing, but that was the night of a ballroom dance event, she’s found it in one of the community newspapers and spoken with an organizer, and it was being put on by one of the clubs she and her husband had belonged to in the past. So she worked up the nerve and called Aram and asked him to join her. He said yes right away, and started asking questions about what he should wear, and if there were any dances he should practice up on. She suggested that he come over and they’d go through it together. He was at her door in half an hour, and after a couple of sweaty hours of practice she was in the shower, riding his cock. They agreed to another practice session before the dance.

So when they came to dress Willma, Stella and Sheila selected an outfit that highlighted the breasts, showing a lot of skin. Angular peaks speared upwards to cover the nipples, with straps attached to the top that looped around the neck. This left not only the tops of the boobs exposed, but also a fair amount from the sides as well.

From his Adam’s apple and thick wrists, Dolores knew she was playing dress-up. But Dolores was confused; they certainly didn’t look like falsies. She seemed too young to be able to get any legit sex-change surgery or growth drugs. Well, she’s seen odder, and the girl looks healthy and happy.

Sheila was her usual athletic self, though she seemed to be much younger looking than Dolores remembered. Carla seems to have dropped more than a few pounds too.

While no one could mistake Carla as anything but a dressed up bear of a man, he was always welcome here, he had a natural fun-loving easy-going way that made the newbies comfortable as he joked and flirted. Dolores knew they were swingers who often picked up both stray “bi-curious” lesbians and adventurous straight couples who liked cross-dressing. Good. Meeting new people in a safe environment was one of her goals for the place, and she’s never heard anything bad about Carla and Sheila from anyone. So here they show up with a couple of kids, both stunners, she wasn’t too worried, but was determined to keep track of them tonight and make sure they had a good time.

On Dolores’ request more purses are opened and Dolores looks at the IDs closely and hands them back. “Super. I’ve given you table 6 so you’ll have great seats when the show starts.” With that she leads them out to the main room and summons a waitress to show them to their table and take their orders.

PART 4 — THE FLOORSHOW

“What a gilt-edged shithole,” Harryette the Hypnotist thought, sitting in the club’s small but clean dressing room. It had to be shared with the other featured performer, a so-called comedienne with whom an argument on the use of the make-up table started the evening.

Harryette had nothing but contempt for the Babey Steps Club. Her regular gig had been canceled that weekend due to a need to send the exterminators into the Lola Gets bar where she’d played every Friday and Saturday for the last two years, though the official tale was “rented for a private event”. But she’s hoovered the rent money up her nose and needed to work, and the offer for a trial gig at this kindergarten for suburban wannabies was needed. Harryette thought of herself as hardcore, she’d paid her dues and been part of the scene for over ten years. Lola Gets may have smelled like a toilet with holes in the dressing room walls and out in the open drug dealing at a table by the fire exit, it was the real thing, not this puffed up Disneyland for Dykes shit. Harryette was straight ahead transvestite and proud of it, contemptuous of the lesbians who formed a good part of the regular crowd here, and had no love for the tourists in dresses from the straight world either. Humiliating them on stage would be one of the evening’s real pleasures.

Still, she’d give a good show, she’d spotted a couple of her regular fans in the crowd, and had done a pass through the room chatting up the lovelies and doing some subtle tests to find the few who were most suggestible for the more outrageous routines and those who will be most interesting to look at when completely embarrassed—there were a couple of pretty youngsters who were so very ripe for the pickings, hell they must still be in their teens. “I’ll save them for last,” she thought. “Maybe one will be my after-the-show treat.”

After the second stiff drink, Willma loosened up and was persuaded to go out on the dance floor with Sheila, and then Stella. Carla held court at their table, greeting old friends and lovers with a warm hug and a big smile. Willma grew tired of being the “and by the way this is,” followed by appraising looks, so dancing to Earth, Wind and Fire with the girls seemed like more fun. Willma even was hit upon a few times, and wasn’t sure how to take it. Watching how Stella handled it and modeling the reaction based it that, a smile and a whispered “you’re terrible” or “you’re so sweet, you’re lovely too” seemed to work. And there were some really beautiful women coming up to talk with Willma, a new and very pleasurable experience, and after a while the matter of plumbing didn’t come into Willma’s mind an iota—after all being pledged to the Egg and his gang meant flirting was it with anyone other than Sheila or Stella tonight. “The Egg”, that’s I your humble narrator and ringmaster of this circus, in case you didn’t know—and one who has a small part to play later in this tale. Willma even accepted a couple of fairly chaste dances from new friends. Unused to the big breasts and with, there were a few near wardrobe failures, causing blushes and quick rearrangement of the frontal floppies.

The lights flash and the music stops. The small dance floor clears and a small low three piece stage is rolled out and bolted together while the waitresses circulate to take another round of orders before the entertainment begins.

First on is announced as the world’s finest ecdysiast. While the unenlightened are scratching their heads over this, an old fashioned fan-dancing stripper struts out with two large six foot feather fans held in either one or two hands, or held on a stand with special clips for them sitting just off the center of the stage which she then uses as a curtain, she starts taking it all off in front of a spotlight operated by Joe Proudhen. The music is corny, but she’s a good dancer and a natural tease and by the point that she’s down to her pasties and panties the crowd is hooting and hollerings and having a great time. Carla brays the loudest of all. Then hiding behind the fans the pasties come off and the panties thrown into the wings. The dancer does some flips from front to back with a fan in each hand, flashing her nakedness briefly but only teasing. Then... disaster. She steps on one of the large feathered fans, sending it crashing to the floor. She then seems to drop the other accidentally. She’s standing there totally nude, first she tries to cover her breasts with her hands, and then the large erect penis sticking out down below. She turns around and wiggles her bum. Both Willma and Stella gasp at the reveal, as do many of the other newbies in the crowd. Carla, who has seen the act many times shouts, “Take it ALL off.” The dancer glares at him over her shoulder, turns back around, then smiles and shrugs, pulling the dick off and tossing it into the wings as well. There is a round of applause as the dancer curtsies, gathers her things and heads back to the performer’s rooms.

The comic Filthy Freda is just that, disheveled, cigarette dangling in tight stretch pants and troweled on makeup, playing half-sheet to the wind, she proceeds to tell the bluest of blue jokes, one after the other, interspersed with insults to members of the audience worthy of Don Rickles or Phyllis Diller, her heroine. While Carla’s hearty laugh rings out, Willma is concentrating hard, trying to remember as many of them as he can to repeat for the guys tomorrow.

Next up is another dancer, this one “arty”. Some dry ice and a couple of extra lights gelled in primary colors add effects, and there are some really acrobatic moves but the basics are the same, clothes are removed, and though the dancer appears female and does splits and other moves that would indicate that this is so, by the end of the dance a slim naked man bows to polite applause. Stella and Sheila appreciate it more than Carla and Willma, who ultimately were glad that it was over.

Dolores comes out to introduce the final act. “Ladies. We have a special treat tonight. Let’s give a big welcome to the pride of Haverville, Harryette the Hypnotist!” There is mostly some polite applause, though two tables full of her fans give a much more robust cheer.

As Harryette enters she curtsies towards that table. “Sure glad I put those orders to come cheer at my gigs into my special friends minds,” flashes through her head. “Should have started doing it sooner.” She’s a bit disappointed that they seem to be two short of the regulars. In fact those two were among the lost, driving around searching for the Babey Steps sign, which is extinguished once the floor show starts.

Willma and the rest at the table recognize her as the well-dressed woman who came up and talked to them earlier. None can remember just what was said though.

When she circulated earlier Harryette told everyone she talked to that volunteering when asked would be a great idea, and to forget she said it. It usually worked on about a third of her audience, and was a good indication of how suggestible they were, the hypnotist’s meal-ticket.

So when she called for volunteers all four of Eggy’s crew—again that’s me, and I’m going to drop talking about myself in the third person Right Now—hands shot up like rockets. In my tinkering I had made them all much more suggestible. I had meant to have this happen only among each other with regards to sex, but I soon saw my mistake. No wonder Wild Carl’s House of Good Enough Appliances had been giving such great “no haggle” deals recently. Oops!

“Excellent,” Harryette said, and called all four along with a half dozen or so more up on stage.

The act was pretty standard stage hypnotist’s routine, with raunchier twists. She made her volunteers act silly, believe things that weren’t true and similar antics. One of her show pieces was to have three of the prettiest and most petite ladies believe they were a road crew on break, fart, belch and talk about “dames”, and then have the three least-believable-as-women ladies parade past them thinking they were shy pretty young schoolgirls while enduring all the cat-calls and filthy suggestions that the road crew louts could think to throw at them. Some were truly original, and got a big laugh from the crowd. Carla naturally was one of the abused maidens, and turned a bright crimson as she walked the stage.

Sheila got her own star turn. Harryette made her pretend she was on a nude beach, and though still clothed, believe she was naked. He had her apply sun tan lotion, catch a Frisbee, and wave to a beautiful person far across the beach that she wanted to lure closer, using her body language to entice them near. It was probably the high point of the routine, the crowd laughed as Sheila wiggled and pointed at her ass then waved for the imaginary object of her affection. Then Harryette made Sheila believe she was the valedictorian at her high school graduation. To imagine her proud parents in the first row, all her friends and the teachers watching her. Her classmates waiting in caps and gowns for their diplomas, staring. To imagine that she had forgot to get dressed again after leaving the nude beach. Sheila let out a piercing scream and tried to cover herself with her hands and blushed deeply from head to toe. Then she was woken up, and told to relax, and then Harryette said some things to her quietly, as she had with each of the previous volunteers. Sheila smiled and went offstage to sit back down at her table.

As each volunteer was used, they were dismissed in a similar way back to their seats to a round of applause. The only one who was displeased was Dolores. “This isn’t working out,” she thought. It seemed too cruel, not in keeping with the safe environment she was promoting. The show could finish today, but Harryette wasn’t right for Dolores’ nest. There was just a meanness to it all. It was OK when Freda insulted the audience; it never seemed like more than a reflection back on herself. This was different.

Soon the only two left on stage were Stella and Willma. Harryette did his show-stopper, both funny and poignant most of the time. He had them believe that Stella was the father and Willma the mother who had just discovered that their son’s closet was full of dresses and make-up, and set them up to argue what to do about it. This usually was a hit with the tranny crowd, having gone through it themselves on the receiving end, but with these two it fell a bit flat. Stella did a pretty good job of imitating an over-strict Sam, and Will drew on Betty, exaggerating her loving sympathy, but they were both too young and in loving homes that swam with tolerated kinky sex these days, and couldn’t draw on the vitriol needed for a really good show. Still Carla and Sheila laughed at the impersonations of the senior Bullmans.

Still when they were done a good, if not great round of applause ended Harryette’s performance. “Wait here” she told them as she took her bows.

Heading back she first whispered in Stella’s ear, “If you can’t do anything I say next, wake up, smile at me and go back to your seat. Forget I said this. OK?”

She whispers, “OK.”

“I want to give you something special. I recorded tonight’s show. You want a copy. I want you to slip away quietly and come see me out in my van after the show and I’ll give it to you.”

Stella smiles at him and walks off stage.

“Rats. One more chance.” Harryette thinks, she really doesn’t care if it’s a girl-girl or a guy-girl to be his special friend.

She repeats her questions into Willma’s ears. Either she’s more suggestible than Stella is, or really wants the souvenir is up for debate. In any case she’s still standing there. That’s usually a good indication that the next command will work.

The third command comes. “When I give you the tape, you will be so grateful you’ll take down my pants and give me the best blowjob you ever have in your entire life.”

With the word “blowjob” to Willma all the alarms I’d set in the ectoplasmophere went off at once. I was Johnny on the scene before the sentence finished. I woke Willma from the trance, and detecting several others in the vicinity with the same kind of post-hypnotic commands, lifted them as well. The command to forget was forgotten, or more accurately remembered but no longer obeyed.

To say Willma is hopping mad is to under-exaggerate. “You want me to go out back and suck your cock! And you hypnotized me for this. You bastard!” And with all the young fury in her manly arms, Willma bops Harryette on the beeper, knocking her on her ass. Freed from their compulsions, her “fans” start to shout “Hey, she did that to me last month!”, “The asshole did it to me too!” and ultimately, “Get her!” Some of those she had on stage earlier that evening also began to shout, most memorably one very beautiful red-headed lesbian she had used in the road crew skit whose face is now a mask of rage. They rise from the two tables as one swarm of chiffon, silk and lace clad angry hornets. Others from around the room also rush the stage. Harryette scrambles to her feet and dives out the back door with them all in hot pursuit. Willma hears the squeal of burning rubber and the moans of disappointment as the pretty, primped and very pissed-off posse returns through the stage-side exit.

Dolores comes up to Willma and says, “Remember what I said about violence?”

“Yes Ma’am.” The adrenalin rush is over and Willma feels weak in the knees and a bit ashamed at the loss of temper. Sam taught his kids to box at an early age and there had been a good spurt of blood from the disgraced hypnotist’s nose. Dolores passes Willma a handkerchief to clean a blood-covered hand.

“If you see any, let me know.” She then walks away.

Stunned, Willma walks off stage to the table and sits down on the high stool there.

“My hero,” Stella says and leans over and kisses him on the cheek. Sheila then repeats it and kisses him too. The crowd has been watching him, and one of the girls Willma danced with earlier comes over and says, “Thank you” and kisses his cheek as well. A crowd soon surrounds the table and all the ladies there seem to want to peck his cheek. Many, having had a taste of his yummy skin line up for a second turn. Some are bolder and aim for the lips, one or two even try to use their tongues, though they are quickly thrown off by those waiting behind. There’s no need to blush, Willma is soon beet-red with smeared lipstick.

Dolores sees this happening and lets it go on for as long as Willma seems to be enjoying it, but seeing the same girl who has just kissed Willma line up again at the back for a third go-round, she steps in and escorts the four into her private office. She sends Willma into her personal bathroom to clean up, and when they are all back together again suggests that it may be best if they leave for the night and let it cool down out there. She hands Stella a membership card, and tells her, “I assume you had a memorable evening. Sorry about the creep. She’s got away, but one of her victims was one of those undercover cops I was talking about earlier. I think she’s in for a bad few days.”

To Willma she gives a special Membership card, it says VIP on it. “Thank you. You saved our reputation as a safe haven for the special girls in this town. This means that you are welcome back anytime, can start bringing guests right away, and the extra drinks charge for you and your guests is waved.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry I lost my temper.”

“Yes, no brawling in the future. But that hardly seems enough. I have four backstage passes for the Alice Cooper show next month, Filthy Freda is opening, believe it or not. Well there’s also another band before Miss Cooper. So Freda’s opening for the opening act. I don’t know who this Alice is, but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t like her music. I’m more of a Peggy Lee sort.”

I was still floating nearby, watching invisibly. You may think it was unfair, I had done all the work and Willma had got all the rewards, but I was proud of the boy. Girl. Whatever. And the manna they would generate later far exceeded any I spent removing the post-hypnotic suggestions. And this had pointed out a flaw in my original set of instructions—maybe ‘programming’ would be a better word—I had given them, the high level of suggestibility. I tightened up what that meant to them all then and there.

With that their car is brought around and Mr. Proudhen shakes Willma’s hand with both his big fists wrapped around the newly cleaned paws, and off they go to Carl and Stella’s, Carla doffing her wig first chance he gets, though Willma won’t be back to being Will for a few hours yet.

PART 5 — THE DANGER ON THE ROCKS HAS SURELY PASSED, HOME AT LAST

Rose wasn’t home when they got there, and wouldn’t return until morning, having spent the night, of all places, rolling around with Annette after they took in the new Bette Midler movie, The Rose together, the boys less Aram and Will all opting instead at the same multiplex for a Cheech and Chong flick that they’d already seen a handful of times before—Andy really liked Cheech but thought Chong unrealistic—and the girls left the theater a good hour before the boys were done, so went back to the Bullmans, and one thing led to another, the thing mostly being bored and horny and Annette’s ramped up desire to munch carpet, and eventually they fell asleep in each other’s arms. Anyway, why Rose is there is a different story. Oh, you want to read about it future self? Well if you insist.

To be brief, that weekend was the Bullman’s 25th anniversary and their kids had devised a gift, and I agreed to it. Sam and Betty usually rented a fishing cabin on a small lake in Minnesota and took a romantic getaway that week every year. But now I was having them host get-togethers every weekend. What the kids proposed was a way with some help from their friends to get Sam and Betty a pass on Saturday’s fun. Marc calls these weekly Saturday do’s ‘Sin-agog’ which made Betty laugh the first time she heard it.

Early in the week, Annette and Will took off to visit Sam’s mother and Betty’s cousin Maude in the Chicago suburbs, staying in Maude’s guest room and den overnight. That night Rose, Stella, Troy and Marc came up from Marc’s basement room, approached the senior Bullmans, who with the kids gone were finishing up a romantic candle-lit dinner that Betty had outdone herself on, and Rose handed Betty a Happy Anniversary card. She read it and handed it to Sam. It was the typical gooey sentiment, signed by all four, though below the signatures was written “Sam and Betty Bullman, we’re here to fuck you into next week.”

Sam sputtered, “What does this mean?”

Marc replied, “It’s your kid’s idea. We have an old fashioned orgy tonight and the Egg will not need you on Saturday or all next week so you can go off to your cabin together for your 25th anniversary. Mr. Egg said that this was ‘a satisfactory substitute’ as long as you two have lots of sex when you are up there. I’m sure you can handle that. Your usual cabin is booked and paid for and they are expecting you after 5pm on Friday.” With that Stella throws her arms around him and gives him a big kiss on the lips. Troy then leans down and starts French kissing Betty. Rose then replaces Stella on Sam’s lips, and after a nudge in the ribs Marc takes Troy’s place kissing Betty.

When they come up for air, Sam looks over at Betty, thinks about being alone with his wife, the woods, the solitude, the escape from all this crazy sex, and then the topper, the fishing. The trout were supposed to be particularly plentiful this year, biting on every cast and fat and juicy cooked over an open fire. He despaired at the thought of missing out. He could even give Betty an outdoor cook book this year. And maybe some instructions on how to clean fish... no, she’s sure to take that badly. She wasn’t too impressed to begin with on the French cooking book he had given her, but she’d read it all in three days flat and if it wasn’t for all the sex, he’d be at least ten pounds heavier now. And the The Joy of Sex book she’d bought in response had paid off in spades too. He thought, “Still... fishing! Yes! Fishing! It would happen after all! And our kids set this up! And their friends agreed! Just look at Betty’s shocked smile. ”

Sam is deeply touched, he scans the room and looks at everyone, smiles broadly and says, “I guess we better get started then.” He takes Rose’s left hand in his right one, Stella’s right hand in his other, and leads them upstairs. “Betty dear, you can have our bedroom, I’ll take Will’s room, and we’ll come join you in a bit for a shuffle.”

Troy picks up Betty and she laughs as he carries her up the stairs over his shoulder like a caveman. “Hahahahaha,” all the way.

Marc grabs a jug of Betty’s tonic and some glasses for all from the kitchen and then follows.

So that’s why on the night of the club visit, Rose was invited to use the senior Bullman’s empty bed. Not that she did.

Vicky was still working one night a week as hostess at a restaurant downtown, to be able to contribute her share of the rent and getting out of the madness of the group for a few hours of hectic but normal activity, which she found a rewarding validation of her independence, despite how hard she and Andy seem to have fallen for each other. And she knew that Andy would give her a great foot rub when she got home. Well, he would start at her feet. Let’s just say a very good time was had by all, except perhaps for Marc and Troy, who went through a Friday night without dipping their wicks. Marc arrived home late after spending some post-movie time with Troy, Andy and his bong where they recited all their favorite lines from the movie, and on his door he saw a note from Rose and Annette inviting him to join them upstairs, but when he went to look, he found them asleep, naked and intertwined in each other’s limbs, and after taking a long hard look to commit the image to memory, went back down to his room for a fast shower, stroke, and bed. Well tomorrow was Saturday, time for our weekly gathering of fun and games. I’m sure I can find someone for Troy and Marc to do then.

I showed myself to Will the next morning. He was naked and dripping wet from the shower, a towel over his shoulders.

“Whoa!” he jumped back.

“Hello Will”

“Er, hi Mr. Egg.”

“You had quite a night.”

“I guess I did. That was you, wasn’t it? Breaking that hypnotist’s spell?”

“Yes, but if it had worked on Stella no one would have been the wiser. Because no one can compel you make love to a man it alerted me. You still can, but it has to be of your own free will. I think I have to expand the protection you all have against ‘guys’ like that. And do something better to protect the ladies too.”

“Still, thanks.”

“And thank you too. If I had a mouth I’d be all smiles when I think of you giving that creep five of the best in the beak. So I have a reward for you. Keep it secret for now. Look in your purse.”

“OK” Will opens the purse he was carrying last night, he hadn’t paid for anything, Carl had, so he never opened it except to show his ID. The small handbag was packed full of napkins with names and phone numbers written on them. “Did you put these here?”

“No they were stuffed in there by the girls themselves while you were getting your ass kissed off, pardon the French. My gift is this.” The napkins shrink, fuse together and expand into a mythic little black book. The little black book that tops all other little black books. “I’ve just organized it for you.”

Will opens it and each of the napkins crude notes has become a neat separate page. On top of each page is a photo of each girl, the number they left, anything else they put on the napkin, most often a lipstick kiss, and some more intimate details, such as their sexual preferences, their ‘plumbing’, their domestic situations, and the level of attraction they would feel when contacted by both Will and Willma. There are several blank pages at the end.

“This is going to update once a day and resort itself by the highest attraction. And they’ll always remember you and that night. The taste of your skin lives in their memories. You can add anybody you want, all you need to do is get their phone number and write that with their name on a blank page. And as pages are used new ones will be added. Don’t lose it, and you can’t use it to set up dates until we broaden our little group to outsiders. And for goodness sake keep it out of Troy’s hands.”

Will tests it out by adding Rose’s name and phone number on a blank page. As he finishes writing it flashes and turns itself to the first page, where her entry has filled in with a picture and added details. Will reads them with interest. He hadn’t thought that her bi-sexuality number would have been so high, and normally it wouldn’t have been, except that his sister next door was currently waking Rose up with some special “Good Morning” head. He also noted that the index of attraction for Rose was actually three points higher for Willma than Will.

“Congratulations on the pass to that club. But it strikes me that you have a problem; you’ll want to get all busty to dress up to get in there, which means you need one of the women to give you a chest rub. I think it would be better if you could do that whenever. So your other reward, not just for decking the doofus, but for generating all the heat with Stella, Gail and Sheila and taking being dressed up as a woman like a man, you can use a new special ‘Milky Rose’ command to make special magic cream. The way it works is this, first you have to be enlarged yourself when you squeeze the cream out of her udders. Not just a quick tits rubbing, but at least two and a half minutes, which will last an hour or so. Second, the command is ‘Milky Rose Magic Cream Will’s Big Boobies’. The cream she generates grows you—or anyone else—to half her size plus where you started when you rub it in, and will last about two hours for every finger-full you use. That way you can do it anytime if you have some cream. I promise that if you tell Rose all about last night’s adventures and ask her nice she’ll let you milk her and tell no one. She will want you to do something to return her afterwards, though. You know what that means.”

“Yeah, sex. I think I can handle that.”

“I meant she may want you to take her to that club. All Willma’d up.”

“I think I could do that too. But not right away. I need to be a guy for a while.”

“Fair enough. If you promise to be a man and properly solo fuck Rose, Stella, Gail, Sheila and Vicky next week starting after tomorrow’s get together, I’ll stop them from being able to use the ‘Big Doll’ command for a whole month. If you do it by Tuesday, two months. We’ll just tell them that Willma is on hiatus.”

“Can do!”