Marguerite, as she asked me to call her the day after we met-(I'd asked her to call me Martin as soon as we shook hands) -was an unmarried (at least, unringed) lady of perhaps thirty-five. She was beautiful - auburn hair; deep blue commanding eyes; a fantastic figure, as trim as her somewhat tall build (she was 5' 9 ) would allow. The curve of her breasts and hips was most attractive, and she made certain (I was sure) that I appreciated her figure and her stockbroking abilities, which were as wonderful as her personality. That made it hard for me to understand why Marguerite was practically shunned by her associates. There was no rumored reason, although one v.p. commented, "She's weird. Single, with her looks? You can figure that she's probably one of those..."
Marguerite was very outgoing...perhaps that was what attracted and kept the clients, for she and I made a great team, bringing in commissions like grocery coupons. I soon became as attractive to clients as was Marguerite, although her clients were mostly men, while mine were mostly women. I must say that Marguerite's private (very private) remarks about our clients were occasionally caustic and very much apropos.
"Well, Marty, my boy," said she about one large, very large, client, "was that trip just around the moon, or did you land?" "the moon" was our office code for an unpleasant time.
"Not quite, Marguerite. She wanted to be put into some penny stocks that I know are worthless, and I flat-out refused.
"'Sides," I chuckled, "she wouldn't have fit. But I tried to interest her in Vanneman's new issue, the one you pointed out to me, and she waffled-so altogether, maybe it wasn't completely worthless, but I didn't close her."
That was a sad admission, but I'd closed six in the first two days of that week already, and we had been generally in a fairly happy mood.
"You should have spread some honey on her waffle, then, Mart'," was her rejoinder. I started to chuckle, then thought better of it.
"Never mind, Mart'." she went on, "Oh, hell, do you mind my calling you Mart'?" Her mild profanity took me slightly aback.
"No, not at all. But I don't think you'd like anyone to shorten your name," I grinned.
"True, I'd hate it. I had too many unpleasant nicknames as a youngster. Other than calling each other names, I think we get along well for two unattached orphans, don't you?"
"Uhm... Marguerite, how did you know . . . ?"
"That you were an orphan with no close relatives? Perhaps we orphans with no siblings can 'feel' each other, after we work together for a time. Our secretary, Sally, is an orphan, too. What I started to ask . . . ."
"Yes?" I was fascinated by what I thought I saw in her eyes-an interest in me as a person, not as a brokerage partner. I got the impression that Marguerite was very attracted to me. I know that during the six weeks we'd worked together I had found her more and more attractive, and I was only awaiting the proper time and place to come on to her-if I dared. Then I realised that I'd fallen for her Her next statement surprised me.
"I wanted to ask you if you'd like to come to dinner at my place, and see...well, I am always a little diffident about my hobby, and I hope you won't laugh at me...."
"I promise I won't, I've had some funny...some odd hobbies...myself." Yup, occasionally masturbating when I thought of Marguerite. Yet lately I'd noticed that erections were difficult to summon, and would not stay hard, although I could fondle myself and make myself feel aroused, but somehow that did not worry me...although I always felt randy as hell when I thought of Marguerite.
"Yes, well, I take my...this particular hobby...quite seriously. I collect...dolls, you might say. You'll very likely be quite...taken, I'm certain. I haven't known any other man...most would laugh at me...who I'd ask to be introduced to my...babies ."
"Marguerite, I'm flattered and honored indeed. I would very much like to be acquainted with your dolls, and I must tell you I think I can feel the beginning of more than just work-partners' interest, if you follow me."
"Why, yes, I believe I do." There was a grin on her lips, a spark of mischief in her eye. "Do you accept my invitation?"
Well, she'd already had my answer, but I replied,
"Surely...I accept, with pleasure. When?"
"How about this coming week-end? We have four days off. It will give you a chance to...get really acquainted with my...dolls."
Well, that was agreed, and I felt a certain sense of accomplishment. The invitation and the tone in which it was delivered were sincere if I had ever heard sincerity. I had wanted to be with Marguerite more and more urgently as the days passed. As I thought of the coming four-day week-end, I felt my groin indicate considerable agreement, although not quite as I expected. I certainly felt great desire yet I had no erection. I found that my underwear was damp with a slightly sticky residue whenever I was around Marguerite the rest of those two days. I could have sworn that she smelled different, too.
Luckily, a good sales day Wednesday, a night, and it was Thursday-the firm was closed every week-end anyway-Friday and Monday of this week-end and the next were extra "up-date" days necessitated by some new computer programs.
Thursday, after lunch, I thought I saw some indication that Marguerite was perhaps "suffering" from anticipation like mine, for I noticed on several occasions her nipples standing taut against her tight sweater when I was near. (For some reason mine were rubbing against my t-shirt.) Once I noticed that her chair seat looked to my astonished eyes slightly damp, and on that occasion she had walked quite quickly to the door, moving slightly sideways, saying over her shoulder,
"Ladies room, back at once."
I had a client on the phone at the moment, so I could make no remark, just waved, but I acted distracted with the client, sufficiently that the client asked me if I were all right. I snapped back to reality and was closing the deal when Marguerite came back. She had on another skirt. As I put the phone down, she gave me a great wide smile which lit up those penetrating blue eyes and she chuckled,
"Sorry, Mart'. I know that was distracting, but I was thinking the same thoughts you were I can hardly wait for tonight. You'll certainly come over, won't you?"
"Good Lord, yes But I thought tomor . . . Fri . . . I hadn't planned . . . ." I felt an odd sensation under my arms and on my chest-there was swelling and my nipples were poking against my shirt
"Makes no never mind, you haven't anything else on ...? If you really want to come...? Yes? Then you come over tonight. You have the address, right?"
I took the sweaty, much-creased piece of paper from my wallet...extracting the wallet from my hip pocket was getting more difficult - I'd probably looked at it fifty times-and blushed in embarrassment.
"Uhm, Marguerite, I had it written down, but this piece of paper won't do me any good. I've looked at your address so much that I've sweated and erased it out of existence "
"O K, we'll do this the easy way. Look at me, Mart Now - Marguerite Seldon, 12234 Drosten Way, North Harbor. You've got it now, don't you?"
Well, I certainly did. I had never before had something impressed on me like that. I then and there began to think of Marguerite in a new light, as a forceful and perhaps more dominating woman than I had earlier realised. A feeling of general well-being came over me and I just accepted that my groin was twitching when I was near her. I was by now used to the lack of an erection and the stains in my underpants when I thought lasciviously of Marguerite, but I was seriously considering getting nylon panties soon.
Where I got that idea I don't know, but it grew in me all the few remaining hours at work Thursday. I left the office shortly after Marguerite, as early as possible, with instructions to Sally the secretary (Marguerite's and mine) that I was not to be disturbed all week-end.
Sally smiled sweetly and nodded as though she thoroughly understood. I gathered with nothing said that Marguerite had given her the exact same instructions, and I assumed that Sally could put two and two together as well as any high school graduate. As things turned out, she certainly could.
"Going to join uhz...uhm...see the dolls, Martin? I know you'll love it. See you later," said Sally, looking a bit wistful. She moved suggestively in her office chair, and I caught a whiff of an odd, pleasant scent, new perfume, I supposed.
What she'd said was odd, but I thought no more about it. She was a good-looking girl in a slightly stereotyped way and I had once considered her as a prospect for some interesting fun every time I'd seen her before I met Marguerite. Still, I wondered for a moment how Sally seemed to know so much about Marguerite's dolls. No matter, Sally didn't have to assume that she'd see me before Tuesday.
I got to Marguerite's-she'd asked me not to drive, but to use public transportation-on a handy bus which stopped at the nearest corner at quarter to seven. I had showered and dressed as though for a night out, yet I had a strange feeling that we would not leave the apartment all week-end. For some reason my coat and slacks were somewhat tight and oddly uncomfortable as though they did not fit me...or I'd gotten chubby in odd places. My nipples were hard as I rang her doorbell.
Marguerite's "place" was not after all an apartment, as I had assumed. She owned the entire building, and occupied the three bottom floors and the basement
She opened the recessed private entrance to her home "dressed" only in a loosely held shawl which she dropped as she closed the door to reveal her entire gorgeous body. The look with which she regarded me made my mind quiver, and I thought to myself, This is my mistress, her look should frighten me,'cause I don't know what she is going to do - which was, I thought, irrational.
I felt a sudden dizziness, my mind whirled and what I said next I could no more have failed to say than breathe. In one gasp of fevered adoration, I said,
"Marguerite, I'd like to live with you forever . . . if you'd have me. You must be the most beautiful woman I've ever known "
I hardly noticed my fevered fingers as I unbuttoned and slid zippers in my haste to be naked like her.
She smiled and kissed my cheek. I felt lavishly rewarded, and somehow as though I had been promised the world. Turning away finally from a long, meaningful, heated interplay of glances, we toured, nude, around her place, she acting like any house-proud woman, mentioning in passing,
"I would be very happy if you meant that, Marty. Can I count on it? As you see, I've always wanted real privacy and now I can afford it I have it as I wish. You'll enjoy it."
"Yes, I knew I would. I like your place very much, Marguerite, but you did mention a...your...'babies' when you invited me."
I thought it quite natural that she had not shown me her bedroom - yet. I wondered briefly what the rest of the space was used for.
"Ah. Well, you'll have to wait until after dinner, dear Marty." She cupped my head in her strong hands and kissed me soundly. Her tongue had an odd taste. My head swirled, my knees weakened and I would have fallen, I do believe, if she had not supported me to a deep chair and plopped me in. She was easily able to handle my surprisingly light body.
"I think you need a drink. I have some wine I'd like your opinion on, a new pressing from a friend's vineyard, but I think it's got a nice bouquet, and it's not too sweet."
"Oh. Sure." I had no idea what she had just said, nor to what I was agreeing, my mind was so muzzy. I toyed with my long black hair as I waited for her return.
She brought in two huge goblets of a deep red wine. I could smell its tartness, tinged with a smell of some herb. I had seldom drunk wine, but in that instance I tasted, then sipped and quickly drank about half the goblet. It was excellent, full-bodied and not as tart as I had thought. I was soon hungry for whatever she had prepared for dinner and I was becoming more and more curious about the dolls...and I was very hungry for Marguerite.
Dinner was as good as I had expected, although I later remembered not one dish we ate, although all had a herbal taste. I thought I ate a lot, even if I did notice that odd taste in several dishes. I felt as though my stomach was shrinking, not expanding as I would have expected. As I looked at Marguerite and drank in her beauty, a vague thought that I should be feeling sexually aroused crossed my mind, but I felt no normal male reaction. There was, however, a definite tickling sensation in my crotch, and I tried to rub my bottom on the fabric of the chair surreptitiously to relieve the itch. Marguerite noticed my movements and commented, with a smile,
"You'll soon be accustomed to certain things, Marty. I'll take good care of you " and kissed me deeply again as she helped me to rise, holding me close with her strong arms. My belly twitched and I wanted to wrap my legs around hers and rub my mound against her as she held me against her perfectly rounded and scented body.
I knew that we'd been nude, but that seemed not to faze me, for I certainly had hardly noticed that I was not reacting as a man normally would, nor had I felt anything amiss save that odd contraction in my belly. I made another impassioned statement, embarrassed, yet determined.
"Oh, Marguerite, I love you, I want to be with you . . . forever "
In those few moments I felt a change in my body, but I paid little attention to myself, for I found my gaze concentrated on Marguerite's lovely breasts and belly, so rounded, so firm, so enticing My tongue wanted to taste her.
"Now, Martine, if you mean that truly, I'll introduce you to my babies. You'll be quite taken by them, I'm certain. I know that you'll appreciate it more when you realise how pleasant it is to...belong. You 'll abide with me, just as others have. Come, Martine."
A little frisson of terror crossed my mind as she said that name, so similar to mine, but I walked calmly and happily beside her, her hand on my arm. There was certainly something different about that arm. What...? Oh, it felt softer, the skin smoother, as Marguerite stroked it softly and pleasantly. I could feel her warmth and slowly I began to feel warm, too, My face felt flushed, but as we passed a large mirror with very old glass I caught a hazy glimpse of myself...I seemed to be as wavy as the mirror...my face, although distorted by the wavy glass, was different, yet not flushed.. I turned my head to look at Marguerite, her lovely breasts entranced me and all I could think of was how her breasts and the burgeoning nipples would feel as I stroked them, and how she smelled and would taste.
I was becoming less and less sure of who or what I was as we walked, but that did not worry me, for it felt so good when she stopped us and reached to rub my breasts and belly. I did not care who I was, or where, I just knew that Marguerite made me feel welcome and desired tht I remain with her.
We sauntered into a large, dimly-lit room, I think on the first floor of her home, and I was amazed to see rows of what at first looked like open and upright coffins of some light colored material, each containing a still, nude, life-sized figure.
"Oh, that one looks like Sally " I exclaimed, starting toward the figure to examine it more closely. My voice was distinctly higher. I felt unaccustomed weight on my chest and more swelling under my arms, but I was so intrigued by this duplicate of our secretary that I paid little attention.
"Yes, Martine, for quite some time Sally's been part of my collection. Remember about orphans? She's asleep, now, Martine, let her rest. She's been busy taking care of things for me." I heard that name "Martine" and wondered again if Marguerite was speaking to me.
She gestured widely about the room.
"These are my 'babies'...they're living puppets, really. I can manipulate minds and bodies and my babies do as I desire, but that doesn't bother you particularly, Martine, does it?"
"No, Marguer...."
"I'm 'Mistress,' Mart' dear. You've become a part of my collection."
"Yes...what did you call me?"
"'Martine.' I call all my dolls by their names, Martine."
I was calm, not afraid, just slightly puzzled. My mind was as muzzy as though I were trying to think with a bad hangover, yet there was no headache. I was not afraid, everything was as it should be...I had not a worry in the world. My mind was whirling so that nothing seemed to concern me. I spoke for the first time since I had learned my...future?
"Dolls? Martine? I was to look at your collection of...dolls, wasn't I?" My voice was a contralto, quite nice.
"Why, yes, Martine. Do you not feel somewhat different, now that you've seen them?"
"Yes, Mistress, I...do. I am... really...a ...doll, I am Mar...tine, Martine, yes, that's my name.
"Mistress, I feel very strange, have I been ill?" She did not answer me, but I felt reassured. Indeed, although I had no memory of when or how I had come to be a part of my Mistress's life, I realised that I had always been Martine. I remembered my...childhood?
Now I was reclining on a bed. Mistress Marguerite looking at me. I somehow felt her desire, and I laid one hand across my belly while my other dropped to my crotch, brushing against my naked pubic mound, making me feel very excited, as though I wanted and needed something. Then I was massaging my labia softly, oh so softly. I felt myself moisten and my finger entered where never a finger had entered before. Mistress tilted a tall mirror at the foot of the bed so that I could see my face and body as I stroked and tickled myself. I was a dark-haired, pretty young woman, with large rounded breasts and an absolutely bare pubic area. My skin, I noticed, was soft yet I could feel muscles sliding underneath as my arms moved. My nipples were pink, very full and upstanding and my breasts felt tingly. My vagina contracted.
Mistress lay down beside me. The odor of her skin was intoxicating, and I felt as though I were in heaven. She spoke softly,
"Kiss me, Marti. Suck gently on my nipples, then move down my body. You'll love that so much."
"Ah, mistress You have the most beautiful body I have ever touched. I adore it."
"Yes, Marti, you will always believe that...and you will have many chances to adore my body...and yours."
My lower belly felt very peculiar and very wet from the penetration of my finger. I wanted to grasp Mistress between my legs and rub myself against her. Her breasts were luscious, full, yet firm and rounded, with lovely areolas and large nipples, now standing upright, awaiting my eager mouth. It would feel good to rub mine against them.
"My dear . . . ," Mistress murmured.
I raised my head and kissed her right breast gently, my tongue seeking her nipple, waiting for my touch. I licked for a moment, and then sucked, at first gently, then harder. The nipple seemed to lengthen, entering between my lips so it lay rigid on my tongue. For a moment it felt like a penis. I tasted something cool and exciting that made me feel, at the same instant, euphoric and slightly dizzy. There was a tickling at my crotch, which felt wonderfully urgent.
"There, there, Martine, you're doing so nicely. Come now, move your lips down slowly, kiss your way down my belly. You'll like what you find very much. Gently, dear. We have a long time."
After a joyous and sinuous journey with my tongue along her torso and belly, trying all the time to keep as much of my body as possible pressed against Mistress, I found my breasts on her thighs, head between them, kissing her wet labia ecstatically - her thick, soft bush tasted good to me, and I did what my mind told me would please her - my tongue penetrated the soft hairs, licked along her labia, tickled her clitoris, and slid easily and quite deeply into her juicy quim. I had a long and facile tongue, I noticed. Mistress's juices tasted divine. I placed two fingers, crossed, inside her and she squirmed with increased passion as I sucked, while tickling with my fingers. She hummed and murmured above me, and I was by now so infatuated that I failed to notice that my thoughts were very slow and concerned only Mistress's pleasure.
"Now, dear Martine," she cooed, "make me climax - and you'll enjoy your first orgasm, too. Dear love, you make a wonderful, happy puppet." I silently agreed, thinking of nothing else.
My mind was in some faraway place, but I felt her quim pulsate as I licked and sucked fast and hard at her clit. I tasted a flood of her juices on my tongue, and my brain whirled as I felt my body respond by the sudden convulsion in my vagina and the ooze of juices which smeared over Mistress's calves as I hastily squirmed higher on her luscious body. I had to hold tightly to Mistress's squirming hips as she climaxed more than once, my fingers twisting inside her and my lips pressed firmly to her breast. My vagina spasmed again, then I was still for a second, and I felt something move inside me. I spasmed again and ground my mons against Mistress's. My juices flowed freely down my thighs, blending with hers.
She slowly pulled my face up until I lay close against her, my breasts pressing against hers, my straining nipples rubbing on her heavy ones, my inner thighs sopping wet. I moaned and clamped my legs around her thigh for the sheer pleasure it gave me.
Mistress detached me from her legs and stood me upright effortlessly. She spoke softly, "Martine, darling, look in the mirror."
I turned my head, my hips still held by her strong hands and saw reflected that same medium-tall brunette, a nice face with a large bosom, narrow waist, well-shaped hips and bare pubes- wetness streaking my thighs and lips. I remembered that face and figure was me, Martine. I turned to my owner and whispered - my voice at that moment a lovely contralto,
"What happened to . . . to the...was there some place I...worked, Mistress?"
Just for a moment I remembered myself as Martin Jowett, a stockbroker, until I knew without any doubt that I was now a female, one of my Mistress' puppets, part of Her collection. The memory lasted but a second, then faded.
I brushed my hand briefly against my mons and thrilled all over as I accidentally touched my clit.
"Oh, that's not to worry, but...in that cubicle, see?" I saw a nude male body...slightly familiar...had I met...? No, that thought faded, too.
"I never waste, Martine. I shape a mind or take a body, but you have been always with me, haven't you, Martine? You are quite happy, aren't you?"
"Oh, yes, Mistress, I'm very happy. May I be of service to you again?"
"You're greedy, Martine," she said, laughing. "All my babies take their turn, my dear, and I will allow you to watch and make yourself happy as you do. I think you will be one of my favorites, dear Martine. Do you like that idea?"
"Very much, Mistress."
I hoped this meant that Marguerite loved me, although I knew that what I wanted no longer mattered, I was Hers, to do with as She wished. I adored Her, and no thought that She owned me, that I was Her slave forever, crossed my mind again..
Mistress allows me and Sally to make love, which we adore, and She does too, for She plays with Herself and then with each of us as we contort and kiss, rub and suck each other to Her satisfaction and ours. Sally is so nice.
Fairly often at night Sally will get out of her box and come over to mine.
"Marty? Wanta play?" I always say yes, we seem to be insatiable with each other, and although Mistress caught us in a 69 one night she did not punish us as I saw her do with another puppet. I have a feeling that She may like Sally and me better than the others, who are all older...or at least from some earlier time in Mistress' life, not that we care. Mistress is divine to kiss all over, her quim is so nice and tasty, better even than Sally's, and I'm just wild about Sally