I need to confess something to you. I hated you. You were my college roommate at the time, and I was jealous of you, and angry at you. You were smarter than me, I admit that. You were stronger, and better looking. You were suave with women, bedding a different beautiful woman every weekend, while I never got laid except by ugly girls who were very drunk.
You’d come from a wealthy family. You were popular with almost everybody, having an easy friendliness with people. And of course you had a footlong cock that I saw when you came from the shower that time. I was none of these things. Hell, you weren’t even been bad to me, I just felt like you had been because I despised you so. Your every action was blown up into an unconscionable offense in my mind.
But I did have one thing you didn’t. I grew up in a family of thaumatologists. We study magic using the scientific method, attempting to understand magic, not merely blunder into a formula like the wizards and witches of old. And I’m something of a prodigy at it. So I know some things.
For example, one of the things I know is why casting spells on other people is so hard. You see your body, your clothes, your possessions are all protected by an implicit contract of ownership. As long as you own yourself, it’s hard for magic from someone else to affect you, requiring complex sigils and lots of energy to do even small things. But of course it’s also difficult to affect yourself because magical energies want to flow out, not in.
But you can surrender your own contract if you willingly speak the right words. Of course, who would do that? Well, it turns out willingly here is kind of a loose term.
You see, more than a month earlier, while you were out, I flipped over your mattress and painted an ancient sigil of power with my blood. You were effectively sleeping on it every night. Every night, I had been subjecting you to a dream designed to trick you into saying exactly the words that would release ownership to me.
That night, as I had every night before, I stood outside your room with the door ajar, looking in at your naked body, because I had to look at you to cast the spell. I whispered strongly but quietly “Quo somnium de mundo tui est dominii ipsum anima mea dedere.” I said it over and over, pumping power through the sigil just on the other side of your mattress.
Finally, after a month of this, you said the words aloud in your sleep. “Ecce trado dominio animam meam.” You didn’t even know what they meant. In your dream, you didn’t know either. That’s the beauty of this trick. But the instant you spoke them, your aura changed. Everything about you became mine.
I walked over to you as you slept. You were unaware of how you were now my plaything. Magically altering you was now so easy. I left-swiped the air above your giant cock, and watched as it shrank away into a beautiful shaved pussy, complete with the internal organs to make it fully functional. I made an erasure motion over you and all your masculine hair vanished.
The boxers around your ankles which you had pulled down because it was a warm night, I gestured at and they became black panties, twirled around your ankles. I put my hands wide so that, from my perspective they were at your head and feet, and I pushed them slowly closer together. You shrank from your impressive 6’5″ to a diminutive 5’2″.
I made pinching motions at each limb and muscle group and they shrank to feminine proportions. I motioned away your adam’s apple, and then tightened your vocal chords. I gestured a pinch at your hair and pulled down. In moments your hair would be waist length…if you were standing. I made a brushing motion and you became blonde.
I placed my hands over your pecs, squeezed as if grabbing, and made a pulling motion. The first time, a pair of A cups appeared on you. A second and they were B’s. A third, D’s. One more good hard one and you had a very plump bair of GG’s.
I reshaped your face to be more feminine, I applied the changes to your DNA, and chemistry. I did a dozen little things from long fingernails to ear piercings, a belly button piercing, tan lines, and more. I changed your legal identity and all of your possessions from clothing to razors to all of the little junk we accumulate in your life. Yours now reflected the typical tastes of a woman, not a man.
Finally, I was done. “Wake.” I said softly. You didn’t wake because of the sound. You woke because you responded to my will. You were, after all, little more than an extension of me now.
You were confused. It didn’t have to be that way. I could have changed your mind quite easily. I could do anything to you. But I liked your confusion. I liked your attempt to cling to the notion that this might somehow be a dream, or some story you are reading on a website.
Yes, I could feel thoughts like that from you. I liked your attempts at denial. They made your eventual submission all the more alluring to me.
I begin rubbing your pussy. I didn’t give you any foreplay. I didn’t need any. I wanted you wet, and instantly, your body produced vaginal lubrication as fast as it could. I wanted your nipples hard, and they hardened. I wanted blood pumping to your pussy and breasts, and it did, swelling both, increasing their sensitivity.
It’s really that easy. Whatever I wanted you to do, you did. Whatever I wanted you to be, you would be. Whatever I wanted you to feel, you would feel. Whatever I wanted you to think, you would think. Right then, I wanted you to beg me to fuck you.
“Please. Please fuck me.” you said in your soft, feminine voice. “I want you to fuck me. I NEED you to fuck me. Please, I’m begging you! I’ll do anything! Just fuck me! Please!” you said, your voice growing more desperate by the word.
But no. It was just words. You didn’t mean them. I wanted you to MEAN them. To want…no, to NEED my cock in you, just like you said. And you did, didn’t you? You needed it like a drowning man needs air. You began writhing in bed in anticipation, in DESPERATION for my cock.
“Please!” you said. “Please put your cock in me. Fuck me. I am yours. Fill me up. Make me feel like the woman I now am.” But that time, I hadn’t made you. You said it on your own. They were your words not mine. Granted, I had made you want to say them.
I walked to the foot of the bed. You flipped the panties away with your foot, and spread wide in anticipation. You smiled warmly at me as you saw me getting ready to fuck you. You were rubbing your breasts, pinching your nipples to get ready. You reached down and spread your labia for me, as if highlighting the target.
I pulled your tiny, weak body to the edge of the bed, and plowed my dick in you. I wanted you to spasm with ecstasy at my every thrust, and so you did. No woman ever came so hard or so often. There are advantages to being my toy.
I began hammering you hard and fast. Your breasts jiggled delightfully with every stroke. You made adorable moaning and screaming noises as your brain exploded in bliss. You finally learned to squeeze my cock with your vaginal muscles and I came hard in you.
I wanted you to be pregnant with my child, so you were. What’s more, I wanted you to know it. To sense it somehow, even though you shouldn’t be able to yet. You did, didn’t you? I noticed you put your slender feminine hands on your abdomen and smile knowingly at me.
I flipped over to lay in your bed. You rolled over and kissed me gently on the lips. I was confused. I hadn’t made you do that.
“I love you.” you said softly in my ear. “I don’t know how you did this to me, but I’ve always fantasized about being a woman, and being submissive to my man. You won’t have to make me do anything. I want to do everything for you.” you told me.
I was startled. But you laid your head gently on my chest, running your hand through my chest hair. You fell back asleep on top of me. And soon, I fell asleep as well as we cuddled.
The next morning, you woke up well before me. You went to the kitchen and began preparing me breakfast. I woke to the smell. You were dressed in nothing but a cooking apron the whole time. It was like you were trying to entice me to fuck you again, but I know that I had dropped the compulsion.
I was particularly confused when you cleaned my part of the apartment for me, when you ironed and laundered my clothes. You doted and waited on me all day.
Then, around mid day, you came over to me, stark naked, dropped something on the floor right in front of me. “Oh no!” you said in a voice that made it clear that you were being seductive. “I’ve gone and been a bad girl and made a mess. I need to be punished and taught the rules.”
You then handed me a wooden spanking paddle from your fraternity pledge, turned your ass toward me and bent WAY over to make sure I could see your pussy underneath your ass cheeks. Your mammoth knockers hung from your chest like udders, which I could see because you made sure to twist a bit at the waist so I could.
I played along, giving you some not so serious whacks with the paddle until you said “Your girl toy was bad, you need to discipline her. Show me who’s in charge!” I began whacking you quite hard. You winced in pain. “Yes, but harder!” you asked. I complied. Soon I was whacking you as hard as I could in the ass, and you were loving it.
“I’m sorry, Master. I’ve been a bad girl! It won’t happen again!” you said between yelps in pain, and tears. I felt bad hitting you this hard, but you insisted. Your pussy was dripping wet. Again, not my doing. Well, not magically.
I stood up and disrobed. A look of joy crossed your face. When I tried to stand you up to kiss you, you told me “No, Master. Take me from behind like the low animal I am. I’m not worthy to take you face to face like real woman. I’m just a toy.”
And so I did. My power over you allowed me to pleasure you in ways no normal woman could ever get to, but to this very day, you are my doting sex slave. You are also the loving mother of my three children. You seem so happy, and quite frankly, it confuses me to this very day. But I am also happy, and have learned to love you, not merely use you.
I tell you all of this because I want you to finally understand how I did to you what I did. I am offering you the chance to own yourself again. You can remain a woman, wife, and mother if you like. Or go back to your old life.
“Would you no longer be able to do all those amazing things to me that you do?” you asked me.
That is correct. You would be a NORMAL woman, wife and mother from now on.
“Then I want to remain yours.” you said. I kissed you deeply. I love you so much.