by Jackie

HI, my name is Jasmine, or at least it is now. It used to be George a couple of
years ago, but things have changed a lot over those years. I used to be an
executive at a software company. I had a nice home, devoted wife, good friends,
etc. All in all, we had a pretty happy life, except for one thing. I was a
cross dresser and my wife didn’t know. I lived with the secret for a number of
years, afraid she would leave me if I told her. Finally, I couldn’t take the
stress of hiding it from her any longer, so I sat her down and explained my
secret to her.

At first, Jackie was quite upset. Surprisingly, at least to me, it wasn’t with
the cross dressing per say, it was keeping secrets from her. One of her first
questions was “What other secrets are you keeping from me?” I assured her that
there were no more, but I don’t think she believed me.

I had broken her trust and it was going to take a lot to get it back. It seemed
that my fears were going to come true, she was going to leave me.

She told me she needed to be alone for a while. So she packed a bag and went
away for a week. She wouldn’t tell me where she was going, or what she was
going to do. I missed her terribly, but was afraid of her coming back and
telling me it was over.So, by the end of the week, I was a nervous wreck!

Suddenly, I heard the door open. I rushed to the hall to see her standing there
with a whole bunch of shopping bags. I thought she had assuaged her anger by
shopping, but I was wrong. The clothes were all for me. She had decided that
if I wanted to dress like a woman, she was going to make sure I looked good. I
felt the weight of the world lift off my shoulders.This was beyond my wildest
dreams. Ok… I had dreamed about her helping me, but never thought it would
actually happen.

She told me to sit down as there were some rules she wanted understood and
agreed to or she would call the whole thing off and she would leave me. I had
little choice but to agree, though most of the rules were easy for me to accept.

They were:

I must wear women’s undergarments at all times.
All my body hair must go.
Unless we were having guests, I must be dressed as a woman at all times, when in the
Since I didn’t want to wear the pants in the family, she would. That
meant that all decisions would be made by her.
I had to obey her without question.
All money would be handled by her. This meant all our joint accounts
were to be closed and she would open accounts in her name only.
I was to have no credit cards. If I needed to buy something, she would give me the money for
it, assuming she agreed to the purchase.
I had to quit my job and become a “housewife” (she had inherited a considerable amount of money when her parents
died, so we didn’t need my salary).
I was responsible for keeping the house clean, doing dishes, laundry, dusting, vacuuming, etc. and have her dinner ready
when she came home from work each day.

The money part worried me, as it meant that I couldn’t leave her without being
destitute, but, in the end, I agreed to everything. She told me to go upstairs
to the bedroom, get undressed, remove my body hair with some cream she had
purchased, shower and wait for her, naked. I did as she asked and waited about
an hour before I heard her ascending the stairs.

When she came into the room, she handed me a garbage bag and told me to fill it
with all my “male” underwear, socks, t-shirts, jeans, sweats, etc. I was
allowed to keep two shirts (both fairly androgynous), one pair of slacks (also
unisex) and one pair of penny loafers. Everything else was going to a local

Once that was done, she brought all the bags she came home with into the room.
She wouldn’t let me touch them, though. First she brought out a pair of frilly
panties and told me to put them on. I had been walking around naked for the
past hour, so I was pretty cold. I would have worn just about anything! Not
that I minded wearing the panties. Next came a corselet, it was very tight, but
helped shape my body into a more feminine silhouette. There were stockings that
attached to the garters on the corselet and then a satin, half slip that was
very full and felt wonderful on my legs. She produced a pair of sling backs
with 4 inch heels from a box. They were patent leather in a soft pink shade. I
put them on while she rummaged in another of her bags. This time she produced a
sweater, skirt ensemble that matched the shoes in color. They were both made
from angora and were incredibly fluffy. The skirt fell to just below my knees
where it ended in a ruffle border. The sweater had a large cowl neck that was
big enough to cover my whole head, if unfolded. I was in seventh heaven. I
couldn’t have chosen an outfit that suited my desires any better, if I tried.

Once everything was on, she stood back and looked me over. “Not bad” she said,
“With a little work, you might even pass. First, though, we have to do
something about your face.” She took my hand and led me downstairs. I was
confused. The make-up was all upstairs, so where were we going?

She handed me a long fox fur coat, gloves and a matching hat. With a sinking
feeling, I realized she was taking me out looking like a man, but dressed like a
woman. She left me no time to argue, though, because as soon as the coat, etc.
were on, she grabbed my hand again and dragged me outside. We walked to the
car, where she informed me that I would not be doing any of the driving anymore,
so I got in the passenger seat. She wouldn’t tell me where we were going, so I
just had to sit back and “enjoy the ride”. Like that was possible.

We drove for about 20 minutes, to an area of the city I didn’t know. It was a
fairly upscale shopping district, with lots of boutiques and salons. At least I
wouldn’t know anyone here, I thought. We pulled up in front of a salon called
“Changes”. That seemed appropriate. It seemed to be closed. There were no
lights on and no one around, but my wife dragged me to the door anyway. She
knocked and, in a minute, a woman came to the door and let us in. She greeted
my wife by name and directed us to a cupboard for our coats. She then directed
me to sit down at one of the make-up stations and said that Gaston would be with
us in a minute.

When Gaston came in, he went over and greeted my wife with a kiss on the cheek
and exclaimed “So, this is what you want me to work my magic on? This is going
to be quite the challenge!” My wife said she had some shopping to do, so she
would leave me in Gaston’s capable hands, and then she left.

Gaston looked me over, hemming and hawing over how to start. Finally, with an
“Alor”, he brandished a set of tweezers and started on my eye brows. As the
first one was plucked, I yelped, to which Gaston told me to “stop being a baby,
women had this done all the time”.

Over the course of the next couple of hours, my face was transformed, my finger
and toe nails were painted and my ears were pierced. The final touch was the
wig. It was honey brown with loose curls cascading down past my shoulders. When
Gaston turned my chair so I could look in the mirror, I was astounded. The
curls softly framed my face, or should I say his work of art. My own mother
would be hard pressed to recognize me or think I was anything but a girl!
Moments later, Jackie walked in. As she picked her jaw up off the floor she
said “Gaston, you have outdone yourself. She looks fantastic!” Gaston accepted
the praise graciously, but it was easy to tell that he was quite proud of his
accomplishment. After paying the bill, we walked back to the car.

Jackie suggested we go to a restaurant for supper. I was, shall we say, less
then enthusiastic about the idea as it would mean being out in public for an
extended period of time. Despite what I had seen in the mirror, I was sure
everyone would be able to tell. But… Jackie was insistent, so I had no choice.

We went to a small restaurant close by. All the tables were secluded with
intimate dining for couples the obvious intent. This suited me just fine. When
it came time to order, Jackie selected chateaubriand for two, so I didn’t have
to try and pass my voice off as a woman’s. The food was excellent, the wine
delicious and the conversation better than Jackie and I had had in a long time.
I started to relax and let my feminine side take over. When we finally got
home, we made love like we never had before!

A couple of months passed with me spending virtually all my time as a woman. I
spent hours working on my voice to give it a more feminine lilt, with a bit of
success. I had learned how to walk in high heels and sit like a lady. I had
learned how to do my own make-up and nails. I was still wearing a wig since my
own hair didn’t grow very fast. I had taken my feminization as far as I could
on my own. So, one day Jackie suggested we see a doctor about hormone therapy.
Thinking this was a great idea, I readily agreed. So Jackie did some research
and made an appointment with a clinic about 4 hours away. She showed me a
brochure she had received. On the cover was a picture of the grounds. It
showed a Victorian era mansion surrounded by manicured lawns, stately trees and
colorful flower beds. Inside were pictures of what looked like well appointed
hotel. There was a small blurb on the history of the clinic and its staff, but
very little about what the clinic did. What Jackie didn’t show me was the other
brochures on the actual programs.

On the appointed day we drove up to the clinic. The grounds were as beautiful
as pictured with an air of old world gentility. We met with the head of the
clinic, Dr. James, and explained our situation. Then I was ushered into an
examining room where a doctor did a full physical exam.  

While I was occupied, Jackie stayed with the Dr. James. Dr. James already knew
all about me as Jackie had talked to her, at length, a couple of weeks before.
As I am sure you have figured out, Jackie didn’t tell me anything about what her
real plans for me were. I was under the impression that the result of our visit
would be a prescription for hormones, nothing else. I was wrong. At some point
in the exam, I was offered some juice and since I hadn’t had anything to drink
since before we left home, I accepted it without question. Shortly there after,
I was told that the exam required me to lie down on the examining table while
the Doctor did an ECG. “This will take a while” the nurse said “and it was
important that I lie very still”. The drugs in the juice soon had there desired
effect, I was out cold!

When I woke up, I was in one of the “hotel” like rooms, except the bed wasn’t
the same. It was a standard hospital bed. I soon discovered that I was unable
to move. My ankles and wrists were restrained and there were more restraints
around my waist and neck.

I started yelling, which brought instant results, not the kind I was hoping for
though. A nurse walked in and forced a ball gag into my mouth and buckled it
behind my head. She told me that yelling was not acceptable; in fact, I was not
to talk at all, unless asked a question. For my infraction I would be gagged
for 4 hours, as this was my first offense. Subsequent incidences would be
treated much more harshly. Then she turned around and left the room.

After what seemed like an hour, Jackie walked in. She smiled down at me and
said “You didn’t really think that I was just going to accept your cross-
dressing, did you? Let me tell you what is really going on”. With that she
pulled up a chair, sat down and started in. “I have signed a contract with this
“clinic”, well it isn’t really a clinic, that’s just a front. Actually, it is a
business that fulfills requests from very rich customers for “women” like you.
You will be transformed into what will appear to be a woman, on the outside, but
very much a man on the inside. I am getting well paid for providing you to them
as well as removing the complication of having to divorce you, since you won’t
be around. Unfortunately, you were killed in a car accident and have been
buried. I have a death certificate signed by a doctor here as well as proof of
cremation and burial in the cemetery across the road. So, no one will wonder
where you are.” Jackie got up, came over and kissed my forehead and with a
“Goodbye, have fun.” she walked out of my life, forever.

As promised, after 4 hours, the nurse came back in and removed the gag. She sat
down and consulted the clipboard she had brought with her. “You have a busy
schedule for the next couple of days, Jasmine. I will give you a brief overview
of what you can expect. We are going to begin with basic hormone injections and
work on you vocal chords (to make your voice more feminine). Next we will
remove your testicles, to eliminate the production of male hormones. Then some
work on feminizing your face and shortening your Achilles tendons. Then there
will be a period of recuperation and training. You will be evaluated regularly
and any problem areas will be dealt with. That is all you need to know for

With that, she left the room. I was in shock! On the one hand, I was furious
at what they (and Jackie) were doing to me, but on the other hand, excited by
the prospect of becoming a woman. I was confused, as well. What was the
shortening of the Achilles tendons for? I would have to wait a couple of weeks
to discover the reason for this.

Another nurse came in and gave me an injection. I was out cold within minutes.
When I woke up, my throat was killing me. When the nurse came in she told me it
was best if I kept quiet, to let my throat heal properly. For 2 days, I was fed
intravenously and didn’t make a peep. My throat felt better each day.

On the third day, I was allowed to have my first sip of water. It was followed,
very quickly with another injection that knocked me out. This time, when I woke
up, my crotch hurt. Remembering what the nurse had told me, I assumed that my
balls were history. I couldn’t check, since I was still restrained at all
times. At least I could talk now. But my voice sounded strange. It was a bit
higher than normal and softer, definitely more feminine! It was a little
disconcerting at first. When I spoke, someone else’s voice came out.

After a couple of days to recover from the last surgery, I was given another
injection. This time my face hurt and was completely covered in bandages. As
well, my ankles were killing me. So… They had done some work on my face and the
mysterious work on my Achilles tendons. Once again, I was being fed through a
feeding tube since the bandages made it impossible for me to open my mouth.
Also, I was breathing through tubes stuck up my nose.

After a week of darkness, the nurse finally removed the gauze. I wasn’t given a
mirror, so I couldn’t see what they had done, but if the pain was any
indication, my cheeks, nose, eyes and lips had all had something done to them.
Now that the bandages were off, I was able to speak and eat again.

All the surgery and tube feeding had taken their toil. I was very weak, but
also, about 25 pounds lighter. After a final week of recovery, the restraints
were finally removed. I was so weak after about a month of immobility, that I
needed help just to sit up. I was only able to stay sitting up for about 15

Over the next couple of days, I was able to stay sitting up for longer and
longer periods of time. Finally, after 5 days, I attempted standing. My legs
were like jelly! With help from 2 nurses, I was able to make it to a chair.   I
noticed that when I put my foot down flat, I felt a sharp pull in the muscles in
the back of my legs. When I asked about it, the nurse smiled and said “That’s
to be expected. I will get you some slippers.” I didn’t know what slippers had
to do with it, until she brought them in. They were mules with a 3” heel.
Suddenly I clued in. They had shortened my Achilles tendons so I would have to
wear heels.   When I got up, it felt like my feet were flat on the ground, even
though I was wearing heels.

Over the next month, the surgeries became a distant memory. I spent more and
more time up and about as well as in “training”. The training consisted of
learning to walk, sit, dance, talk and gesture like a woman. My wardrobe
changed as well. At first I had been in a hospital gown. Then I was given a
peignoir to wear over a nighty. Then I was introduced to the kinds of clothes I
would be wearing once I left the hospital. This included a corset, but not a
very severe one, at least at first.   This was another part of the “training”.  

Over the rest of my stay, the only time I was not wearing a corset was when I
was bathing. As I said, the first corset wasn’t very severe. It brought my
waist down to 32 inches. This was reduced by  ½ inch every week. As this
reduction in my waist size was going on, my breasts were getting larger and
larger. By the time my waist was down to 29 inches, my breasts were up to a
34B.   When I asked how much longer I was going to have to stay in the hospital,
I was told that my waist had to measure 24 inches before they would even think
about releasing me. At  ½ inch per week, that was going to take 10 more weeks!  
If I wanted to go home earlier, I had to reduce faster.

From that point forward, I asked the nurse to tighten the corset as much as she
could, I would put up with the pain. I was able to manage  ¾ of an inch over the
next 4 weeks, so I was down to 26 inches.   Only 2 more to go! What I didn’t
know was that the size of my waist was not the only factor they were using to
determine my release date. They were also looking at my breast size, and how
feminine I looked and acted. By the time my waist was down to 24 inches, my
breasts were a 34C. That wasn’t good enough. They were looking for a 36C, so
they decided to put some implants in.   This meant more surgery and a delay in my
departure. As well, the nurse continued to tighten the corset tighter each
week. So by the time I had recovered from the surgery and my breasts had
reached 36C, my waist was down to 21  ½ inches.

I had now been in the hospital for 6 months. The hormones had other effects
than just growing my breasts. My whole body had taken on a more feminine look,
my muscles had shrunk, my skin had become smoother and, with the aid of
electrolysis, was now hairless, except for on top of my head. There, my hair
had grown down to my mid back. I was taught how to style it in different ways
and had become quite accomplished at it.

By the way, the changes they had made to my face; they included implants under
my eyes which produced a high cheek bone effect, a tightening of my eyelids to
remove the crow’s feet, my nose had been reduced in size and my lips had been
shortened and injected with collagen. Overall, the effect was astounding. With
my new figure, hair, some make-up and some proper clothes, no one would mistake
me for a man.

Over this same period, my nails had grown quite a bit. I was given a manicure
and pedicure once a week and was taught how to apply nail polish and how to care
for my nails. As my waist reduced in size and my breasts increased, my wardrobe
changed as well. A dress that fit me perfectly one week, was to loose or tight
the next. This meant that I rarely wore the same outfit twice.

All of my clothes were very feminine. I had no pants, sweats, socks, or
anything that could be remotely considered male. Most of the time, I wore
dresses, though occasionally I wore a blouse and a skirt.   When I was learning
to dance, I always wore a ball gown. These weren’t your average “slip this over
your head and zip up the back” kind of dresses.   It usually took about an hour
just to get ready for the lesson. Each gown had multiple petticoats, an under
skirt and an over skirt, a tight fitting bodice with tons of buttons, tight
fitting mutton sleeves with large puffs at the shoulder, tight fitting gloves
that required a button hook to close and extremely high heels. I had to redo my
make-up and hair so it was appropriate for a ball. In essence, I was supposed
to look exactly the way I would look if I was going to a real ball.

The dance lessons occurred every other day, so I got pretty good at preparing
myself. All the outfits I was provided were from the era when corsets were in
style. I don’t mean as outerwear as you see them on the catwalks today. They
were more of the “Victorian” era type. Usually, this meant tight fitting
bodices with balloon sleeves, floor length skirts with petticoats, high collars,
lace gloves and ornate hats. I figured that, since this was a hospital, the
clothes were either donated or from a collection they had had for years.
Though, they were all in excellent shape, looking like they had never been worn.
The sheer number of different outfits I wore during my stay boggles the mind.

Since I was, for all intents and purposes, a woman now (except for one minor
detail — I still had a penis), I reveled in my new role.   I had always enjoyed
cross dressing, and now I could do so with impunity. Since the deed was done, I
decided to enjoy the change rather than fight it. This made life a lot easier
for me, as fighting it would have only left me frustrated, since I really had no
control over any of my life. One day, the nurse came in to my room, with an
outfit over her arm, and told me I was being discharged.   She placed the outfit
on my bed and told me to get dressed quickly as I would be leaving in 15
minutes. With so little time to change, I had no time to think about what
“discharged” meant or even what it was I was putting on.

It was a fairly typical outfit compared with what I had been wearing, so it
never crossed my mind that it was totally unsuitable for the modern day woman.
It consisted of a pink satin under skirt with 4 petticoats under it, an
embroidered brocade bodice, also pink and a gown that had flounce topped mutton
chop sleeves with a bolero type vest all in pink velvet, with a silk overskirt
with bows gathering it in 4 locations, showing the underskirt and a cummerbund
tied into a large bow in the back.

It was very heavy and warm, but was absolutely gorgeous! Once I was dressed, I
was escorted to a room on the first floor (I hadn’t been on the first floor
since I arrived) by 2 very big security guards. They ushered me in and then
closed the door behind me. I was alone in this room that was extremely plain.  
All the walls, the floor and the ceiling were painted the same shade of white.
There was indirect lighting that washed the room in such a way that it was
difficult to see where the walls met the floor, ceiling and each other. It was
somewhat disorienting.

The only break from the stark whiteness was a mirror that was about 4 feet high
by 6 feet long on one wall. Though I had no way of knowing it, this was
actually a two way mirror. I was being observed by the person interested in
purchasing me. It seemed like I was in there forever, though I am sure it was
no longer than an hour.

Finally, a portion of the wall opened and 2 more guards entered. They grabbed
my wrists and pulled me through the door rather roughly.   I yelped and they told
me to keep quiet.   The room I was in now was very different. It looked like
some sort of loading dock. There was a garage door at one end with a forklift
in front of it. At the other end, where we had entered the room, was a large
wooden crate about six feet high, three feet wide and three feet deep.   It was
lined with what looked like styrofoam insulation.

Before I had a chance to see more I was pulled over to a table and forced to lie
down on it. The men rolled me on to one side and held me there while another
person poured something warm into my ear. I immediately lost all hearing in that
ear. I was then rolled to the other side and the process was repeated. Then I
was rolled onto my back and my mouth was forced open. A tube was fed down my
throat. The tube ended in an inflatable gag that was placed in my mouth. The
outside of the gag contained two tubes that went up my nose a short distance and
finished with a tight sealing cover that encompassed my mouth and nose

A thick strap was cinched tight behind my head, below my ears. Another strap,
attached to the top end of the gag contained pads that were placed over my eyes,
blinding me completely. This strap was also fastened behind my head. Now I
couldn’t talk, hear or see! Once this was accomplished, my skirts were pulled
up and a catheter was inserted. As well, a butt plug was slipped in until it
seated itself firmly inside me. After completing this procedure, I was guided
off the table. Strong arms grabbed my arms and lifted me off the ground. I was
moved over to the crate and placed inside, facing out (not that I could see
anything, anyways).

Apparently, the inside of the crate was fitted with special padded blocks at
various strategic spots. There was one at my neck, each upper arm, each wrist,
my waist, and my ankles.   They were all half circles contoured to fit my body
exactly. Each block had a mate that was screwed in place, making it impossible
for me to move.   The tubes protruding from my mouth and nose were hooked up to
canisters attached to the side of the crate. A layer of tissue paper was placed
over the dress, to prevent damage and then the front of the crate was screwed in
place.   A chute above the crate was opened and packing material rained down on
me, and filling the box. Then the top was screwed in place. Nothing happened
for quite awhile. The tubes running to my nose delivered oxygen as well as a
small dose of sedative. I was soon fast asleep.

I woke up with a start when the crate was lifted and placed on a truck. But
once the truck got moving, I went back to sleep very quickly. This happened a
couple of times.   I am not sure how many or over what period of time. The tube
down my throat delivered food, so the trip had to have taken long enough that
they were worried about me starving.

The sedative was designed to last until shortly before I arrived at my
destination. The last time I was moved on to a truck, I woke up and didn’t go
back to sleep. The ride was quite bumpy, but all the padding in the crate
softened it considerably.   It seemed to take about an hour, though it is very
hard to tell time when you can’t see, hear or move! Finally, the truck came to
a stop and backed up to another loading dock. Once again, a forklift was
employed to remove the box from the truck.   The crate was placed on its back and
the front was unscrewed. Some kind of vacuum system was used to remove the
packing material. Then the crate was maneuvered to an upright position. The
restraining blocks were unscrewed and I was lifted from the crate. The
confinement had left me very weak, so I had to be helped over to a wheelchair.  
The gag, blindfold and earplugs were not removed before I was wheeled off the
loading dock. The ride lasted for a few minutes, negotiating a number of turns
that left me completely disoriented.

When we reached what was to be my room, I was left sitting in the wheelchair. A
short while later two women came in and proceeded to remove the tubes, blind
fold, and gag. The next step was to get me undressed, which they did without
saying a word. Not that I could have heard them, since my ears were still
blocked. Once I was completely undressed, they led me into a bathroom where
they guided me into a tub filled with bubbles. The water was wonderfully warm
and soothing and I let them wash me completely as I relaxed and let the warmth
penetrate my aching muscles. Apparently, the trip had taken its toll. Before
getting me out of the bath, my helpers gently pushed my head under water,
leaving my mouth and nose above, but my ears below. After a couple of minutes
they each grasped small strings anchored in the earplugs and gently wiggled them
free. I could hear again!

After helping me out of the bath and drying me off, they led me to a massage
table, where they spread a body lotion all over my skin and kneaded it in. Next
came some powder that left me skin soft and smooth. While I was still on my
back, they applied my make-up and painted my finger and toe nails. Once they
were satisfied with the effect, I was directed to a dressing room. Actually, it
wasn’t just “a” dressing room; it was the most amazing room I had ever seen. It
was round with the walls consisting of mirrors.   Hanging from the center of the
ceiling was a lacing bar with cuffs at either end. Directly beneath the bar,
anchored to the floor was a t-bar with the horizontal part about 6 inches above
the floor. This also had cuffs at either end. Once we were inside, the door
was closed and I was led to the center of the room.  

The door, which was also covered in mirrors, all but disappeared. One of the
maids pressed a button on a remote control device and a drawer concealed as part
of the mirrors, silently slid open. From it, the other maid extracted a white
satin chemise and dropped it over my head. After some tugging, they were able
to position it properly. It was quite tight down to my waist and then flared
out over my hips and down to my knees. While this was being done, the other
maid had retrieved a pair of silk stockings and proceeded to draw them up my
legs. They were secured by laced covered garters. A pair of high heels was
then forced onto my feet. They had 5 inch heels and were secured with a strap
that went from under the arch, over the foot, around the ankle twice, back over
the foot and buckled on the other side. After buckling each shoe, one of the
cuffs was placed around my ankle and secured.   This left my feet about 3 feet
apart.   By pressing another button on the remote, the lacing bar was lowered
even with my waist. The cuffs were put around my wrists and cinched tight.
With another press of the button, the bar ascended until my feet were almost off
the ground.

Next a severe looking corset was wrapped around my body. It stretched from my
hips to just under my breasts.   Since this corset had no front opening, the
maids had to start the lacing from scratch. They had obviously done this before
as they quickly fed the laces through the eyeholes and started tightening.

My training while in the hospital stood me in good stead. They were able to
reduce my waist to 21 inches with little difficulty. Since this was the desired
size, the whole lacing process only took about an hour.  

On completion, they lowered the lacing bar down and released my wrists. The
cuffs around my ankles were not removed. Instead, one of the maids loosened a
thumb screw and slid the cuffs together and then retightened the screws. Now my
ankles were touching each other.

The next step in getting me dressed involved layering petticoats on. The first
one was very narrow and went down to my ankles. Each subsequent one was wider,
fuller and had several rows of ruffles. By the time the sixth one was put in
place, my skirts measured about 6 feet in diameter.   Then an under dress was
slipped over my head. It was a pale pink with a tight fitting bodice, short
sleeves that ended with tight cuffs around my upper arms, a full skirt with a
duster at the bottom. With much tugging, long kid gloves were stretched to just
below the sleeve. They were fastened with buttons at the back of the wrist and
above the elbow.

It took the two maids together to lift the gown over my head. The bodice was a
heavy brocade with elaborate embroidery. It had a high tight collar with boning
to keep it in place. The sleeves were long, puffed out at the shoulder and
elbow, with a row of buttons from just below the elbow to the wrist. The skirt
was raw silk reaching to the floor except where it was held up by ribbons, on
either side, showing the underskirt below. Finally a hat was attached to my
hair with a couple of hairpins.   It had a large feather died the same shade of
pink as the dress and a small lace veil.

Now that I was dressed, my ankle restraints were removed and I was led out of
the dressing room. A final touch up of my make-up and I was ready to go. Where
I was going to go, I had no idea. The maids had talked very little and when I
asked them questions, I was told to shush.   So when the maids opened the doors,
I was a little hesitant to leave. They became impatient and shooed me out. I
was told to go downstairs to the parlor and was given directions.

My first obstacle was the stairway. Though each step was quite large, my
voluminous skirts made the job quite perilous.   Also, the innermost petticoat
kept me from taking anything more than about three inch steps. It took me half
an hour to get from my room, down the stairs and into the parlor!

The room was quite large and contained a number of seating areas. The walls
were covered with paintings and tapestries. The ceiling was about 20 feet high
and was painted to look like the sky, with wispy clouds dotting the pale blue
background. The floor was wood with areas rugs strategically placed. One side
of the room contained a massive fireplace with an ornately carved mantle and a
limestone hearth. It was surrounded by a matching set of couches and chairs.
Sitting in one of the chairs was a woman dressed in a midnight blue Chanel suit.
Since she was the only other person in the room, I walked over to her.   When she
spotted me, she waved me over saying “Well, my dear, come over here so I can get
a look at you”. I shuffled over to her chair, where she made me turn around
several times. “Wonderful” she exclaimed, “You will be perfect. Now we need to
get you ready. Come with me.” With that she arose and headed for a door at the
other end of the room. I shuffled along as fast as I could, but she had to wait
for me to catch up. Finally, I reached the door and we proceeded into a small
utility room. Taking a wide, satin ribbon from a table, she asked for my left
hand. She tied the ribbon around my wrist and placing my arm behind my back,
she fed the ribbon under my right arm and around the front. She then maneuvered
my right arm into the same position and tied the other end of the ribbon to my
right wrist. This resulted in my arms overlapping from elbow to wrist behind
me, secured so I couldn’t move them. Then, she asked me to open my mouth and
before I could react, she popped a ball gag in my mouth. She secured the gag
behind my head with another piece of ribbon and fastened a bow over top of the
gag, concealing it completely. “There we go” she said.   “You’ll make a perfect
gift for Edward. Now, don’t go anywhere. I will come and get you when its

With that, she left the room, closing the door behind her. I couldn’t open the
door with my hands tied behind me anyway, so I just had to stand there and wait.
After what seemed like about an hour, I heard voices coming into the parlor. It
sounded like a whole group of people who were joking and laughing and telling
stories. Obviously, some sort of party was in progress.

After about half an hour, the conversations died down and I heard the woman say
“I would like to propose a toast to the birthday boy, Edward”. That was
followed by a number of here, heres and congratulations and the clinking of
glasses.   She continued “Now that you are 21, you are finally a man and as such
are ready for an adult toy.” With that, I heard a knock on the door and the
door was opened.

I walked out of the room into the middle of a circle of people. The woman led
me over to Edward and said “Happy birthday, dear, I hope you get many good years
of use out of her”. I expected Edward to be quite embarrassed by all this, but
he seemed genuinely pleased. The crowd seemed to think it was normal too, as
they all started clapping. Apparently, these people were quite used to somebody
being given as a gift to someone else!

Edward asked me to turn around so he could get a good look at me. When I
finished, he motioned for me to do it again. With a “very nice”, he finally
motioned for me to stop. He said “Thank you Mother, she’s beautiful” and gave
her a kiss. She said “Come on, let’s open your other gifts” and led him back to
the area in front of the fireplace. The rest of the group followed along,
leaving me standing there, forgotten. Since I couldn’t make any noise, due to
the gag, I couldn’t complain. I started to follow them, but a maid came in and
told me to follow her. I glanced over to Edward, but he was engrossed in
opening another present and obviously wasn’t going to overrule her, so I
followed her.   She led me to the stairs and started up them. I tried to follow,
but my gown got caught on the bottom step. Since I couldn’t use my arms to
raise the skirt, I was stuck! I tried to get her attention, but all that came
out was“oomph”. When she was about half way up, she turned to see how I was
doing. With a perturbed look, she came back down and grabbed the front of my
skirts and told me to hurry up. Even with her help, it took a long time to make
it to the top. I was exhausted! She led me to Edward’s bedroom and told me to
stand beside the bed until he arrived.

It was only 8 o’clock, so I expected it would be quite a while before he made an
appearance. I was right, it was 11:30 before he came in. When he spotted me
beside his bed, still decorated like a present, he smiled and said “Oh yes, I
haven’t really unwrapped you yet, have I?” With that, he came over and removed
the bow from the front of the gag and said “there we go, all unwrapped” and then
chuckled. He turned around and went into the washroom.  

I heard him undressing and then water running as he got ready for bed. Up to
this point, I hadn’t really taken the time to really look at Edward, but when he
emerged, wearing burgundy, silk pajamas, I realized he was very handsome.   He
had dark brown short hair that matched his eyes. He had a chiseled chin and a
wonderful smile. He was a little over 6 feet tall, with a muscular build, but
not like a body builder, more like someone who exercised regularly, to keep in
shape.   Despite the indignity of my position, I started to feel excited about
being with him.

He came over and turned me around. He released my arms and started undoing the
buttons on the back of my dress. After pulling the dress over my head and
tossing it on the floor, he proceeded to remove my petticoats. Since I wasn’t
wearing anything under them, I was left with only my corset and chemise. He
removed the gag, took my hand and led me to the bed. He gently lowered me down
and while kissing me, he gently caressed me with his hands. I found myself
becoming very aroused. Edward was also becoming aroused and flipped me over
onto my front. He lifted my chemise out of the way and slowly guided himself
into me. At first it hurt considerably, but with gentle words and caresses, he
got me to relax enough to allow entry. Once he was inside he increased the
pressure and with slow in and out motions, filled me completely. With his
arousal increasing, he started to pump in and out faster and faster. The motion
touched something inside of me. My arousal increased in lock step with his and
as he finally climaxed, I did as well. He collapsed on top of me.   We were both
panting and exhausted from this first encounter. After a few minutes he slid
out of me and rolled me on to my back. He started kissing me passionately as he
took my head into his hands. When he came up for air, he said “I think I’m
falling in love with you already. Mom sure knows how to buy a birthday

He rolled over and pressed a button on the wall beside the bed. In short order
his man servant entered and asked how he could be of service. Edward told him
to get my maids. With a “very good, sir”, he left the room.

A few minutes later, the two maids who had dressed me, came in. One of them
came over to the bed and held out a chiffon gown for me to slip into. The other
gathered up all my discarded clothes.   They led me back to my own room, where
they prepared me for bed. First they bathed me, then creamed and powdered me.
I was left alone long enough to brush my teeth and relieve myself, and then I
was led back in to my dressing room. They slid a full length satin night gown
over my head. One of the maids opened a cupboard and retrieved the most severe
corset I had ever seen. It went from neck to knees. The top was a neck corset
about 4 inches high, with stiff boning. It had short sleeves ending about half
way between my shoulders and elbows. The sleeves were attached to the body of
the corset, so my arms were held tight against my body.

The girls started lacing at the top and tied it off about 4 inches above my
waist.   Then, with my feet tight together, they laced from my knees up to my
hips. A third set of laces was employed for my waist area. Once they had all
three sets firmly in place, they started over.   The upper laces were pulled
until my head was rigidly held looking up, with my neck stretched quite
painfully.   My shoulders were forced back, causing my breasts to push out in the
front. The lower laces were tightened until my legs were sandwiched together
and my rear jutted out. Then they started on the middle. They spent about 15
minutes just getting the waist to where they wanted it. Once they were done,
they left me standing there while they busied with getting the bed ready. About
10 minutes later, they came back and tightened each set of laces one more time.
I felt like I was going to faint, but the pain in my neck kept me conscious.
Next a pair of gloves was retrieved. They were in some sort of stretcher that
made it easier to get the gloves on. As soon as the stretcher was removed, the
glove was forced up my arm. It came to just under the sleeve of the corset and
attached to it by a couple of ribbons. The fingers of the gloves were sewn
together and had rigid boning between each one. This kept my fingers from being
able to bend.   More boning down the back of the hand and over the wrist, kept
my wrists perfectly straight. A ribbon extended from the tips of my fingers and
was tied off to a ring on the corset.   This kept my hands tight to the sides of
my body. To further enforce this, cuffs attached to the corset were buckled
over my wrists.

They slipped a pair of marabou mules on my feet and helped me shuffle over to
the bed. They laid me on my back and slid my body to the middle of the bed.
Then they removed the mules and slipped a pair of tight elasticized socks on my
feet.   Then they shoehorned a pair of ballet slippers on my feet. This caused
my feet to point straight down with my heels forcibly bent to conform to the
shape of the shoe. Finally, a mask was placed over my face. It had some kind
of cream on the inside that smelled awful.     When I complained, a gag was
slipped into my mouth and secured to the mask. The mask completely covered my
eyes, so I couldn’t see anything. As well, it covered my ears, so I couldn’t

With everything in place, straps, attached to the bed frame were buckled to the
sides of the corset at various locations. These were cinched tight, so movement
was impossible. Then the covers were drawn up over my body, so that anyone who
looked would just see a woman with a skin cream mask, lying in bed.

The bed had a few more tricks in store. It was a canopy bed with heavy
curtains. Once I was secured the curtains were released from their ties. This
completely eliminated any light getting into the bed.   Then ornate wooden sides
were unfolded and locked in place. The bed was now a prison. Not that I could
have escaped anyway!

I had a lot of trouble falling asleep due to the pain caused by the restraints
and the smell of the mask, but eventually, exhaustion won out. I was awakened
in the morning by the maids, and released from the bed. They lugged my body
upright and helped me to the changing room.   Since I still had the ballet
slippers on, standing on my own was extremely painful. They removed the corset,
mask, shoes, gloves and night gown, before leading me to the bathroom. I was
allowed to relieve myself in private as the bath filled.   Once I was done, the
maids came back in and helped me into the bath.

This was to become one of my favorite parts of the day. The hot water
penetrated my muscles soothing them after a long night of pain. The maids
washed my body completely with soft sponges.

Once I was clean, I was dried and laid on the massage table where soothing oils
were kneaded into my skin. Finally, a dusting of scented powder was applied,
making my skin smooth and soft. The whole process took about half an hour. If
I had a vote, it would have lasted much longer, but of course, I didn’t.

Each day, from then on, once the bathing was done, I was escorted into the
changing room and fitted into an extremely tight corset, ballet shoes,
petticoats and a formal ball gown. I was never to leave my rooms not wearing a
ball gown, other then when returning from Edward’s room at night. The ball
gowns hid the fact that my feet were shod in torturous shoes and that the
petticoats restricted my gait to a couple of inches.

The process of bathing and dressing took about 3 hours. By the time I was
ready, it was almost noon.   The corset made it impossible to eat very much, so
lunch usually consisted of a light salad and a small glass of milk. It didn’t
take very long for my body to show the effects of the reduced eating. I lost
about 5 pounds and a  ¼ inch around my waist each week. It wasn’t very long
before I was down to 19 inches and had to get a whole new wardrobe!

As for the rest of my day, in the afternoons, I spent my time doing needlepoint,
knitting, or sewing.   I was taken for a walk on the grounds once a day, to get
some fresh air. I never got very far due to my restricted gait, so it took a
long time before I had visited every area. It was a huge estate, surrounded by
a high stone wall, so I never saw the outside world.   The grounds were
beautiful, though, so I enjoyed my walks. Before supper, I returned to my suite
to have my make-up touched up and sometimes, if it was a special occasion, where
a more formal gown was required, I would have to spend an hour or so getting re-
dressed. Again, due to my corset, I couldn’t eat anything more than a few bites
of supper, but what I did have was always superb. They had a wonderful chef.

After supper, I was taken up to Edward’s bedroom to wait for him. As with the
first night, he usually didn’t arrive until after 11, so I spent a lot of time
waiting by his bed. Edward was very gentle with me and I soon fell in love with

There were few opportunities to talk with him, outside the bedroom, but when I
did, he was always very courteous and gentlemanly. The only deviation to my
daily routine was when new clothes were required. Every time my waist shrunk, I
needed new corsets and gowns.   As well, my arms hands and feet shrunk, I
required new gloves and shoes. This meant appointments with the corsetiere,
dress makers, milliners and shoe makers. These appointments consumed many of my
afternoons, as new measurements were required and new designs needed to be
discussed, before the garments could be made.

Then, a couple of days later, there would be fittings for everything, followed
by the arrival of all the new clothes. This was the part of the process I liked
the best. Seeing all the new clothes and getting to wear something different
every day, even if they were restrictive, was really exciting.   Next to my time
spent with Edward, this was the part of my new life I enjoyed the most.

Then one day, I heard a commotion downstairs. I couldn’t hear what was being
said, but Edward and his mother were shouting at each other. That evening, I
spent in my rooms instead of waiting for Edward. The next morning, I heard
Edward and his mother and father raising their voices again. Until the day
before, I had never heard a cross word spoken in the house. I wasn’t able to
make out what was said, but when I saw Edward, later that day, he was obviously
very agitated. I asked him what was wrong, but he brushed me off, saying it was
none of my concern. His abruptness was very unusual and hurt. So I went back
to my room and sulked for the rest of the day.

The next afternoon, I was summoned by Edward’s mother. When I got down to the
parlor, Edward, his mother and father were waiting for me.   Edward took my arm
and led me to a settee. He took a large breath and said “I know you are aware
that I have been having a disagreement with my mother and father the last couple
of days. What we have been arguing about is you.”   He quickly added “you
haven’t done anything wrong; in fact it’s just the opposite. I have fallen in
love with you and want to marry you. My mother and father don’t think I should.
There reason is because you are a possession.   They want me to marry a girl from
an influential family as has been traditionally done in our society. I don’t
want to marry any of those girls, and they have finally given in.” With that,
he dropped to one knee in front of me and took my hand. Then he said “Will you
marry me?” I had barely taken in the fact that he loved me when he asked, so I
was really flustered. I just sat there looking at him for such a long time that
Edward became concerned.   He asked if I was alright.   Finally it sunk in and I
started to smile.   The first time I had really smiled in a long time. I looked
him in the eyes and said “Edward, I would love to be your wife.”

We both started breathing again at the same time.   Then, he took a ring box out
of his pocket and opened it up. It contained the most beautiful diamond ring I
had ever seen, and it was huge! He placed it on my ring finger. We were
officially engaged.

The wedding was set for a Saturday 2 months away. This left us very little time
to prepare, but it was necessary since it was the only date that everyone had
free for the next year. So the whirlwind began. First on my list was a wedding
dress. Edward’s mother had a couple of designers come in to display their
dresses. After looking at about a hundred gowns, we finally decided on one. It
was very full, with a beaded bodice, long sleeves, a high collar, a huge bow at
the back and a long train. The veil was French lace. Naturally, it had a very
small waist that would require a corset that could reduce my waist size to 16
inches. Since I now measured 18 inches, I had some work to do.

The next couple of weeks went by in a blur. Invitations had to be mailed; the
church booked, flowers ordered, caterer hired, etc. Most of the decisions were
out of my hands, but I helped where I could. With 2 weeks to go, the dress
maker arrived for a fitting.   I had reduced my waist by another inch, so I still
had one more inch to go. The dress maker wanted to let out the bodice a bit to
ensure I would be able to get into it for the wedding. Edward’s mother would
have none of it. She insisted that I would be down to 16 inches by the wedding,
so 16 inches it was.

I saw little of Edward the last couple of weeks. He was busy clearing his slate
so we could go on our honeymoon. He wouldn’t tell me where we were going, so I
had to be patient.

Finally, the big day came.   The dress had arrived the day before, with the
corset, petticoats, train, lace gloves and veil. It had taken three people to
bring in all the boxes.   My morning was taken up getting ready.   My hair was
trimmed and curled, my nails professionally manicured and my make-up expertly
applied. By this time, the wedding was only 2 hours away. It was time to get
into the dress.

I was attached to the lacing bar and stretched until my toes barely hit the
floor. The white satin corset was wrapped around my body and the lacing began.
It took almost an hour and a great deal of pain before the maids, urged on by my
future Mother-in-Law, before the 16 inch goal was achieved. I could barely
breathe. In fact, I had fainted twice during the process, but was brought round
with smelling salts. Once the corset was tied off and the excess lace trimmed,
the lacing bar was lowered.   The pain increased as my body tried to settle, but
had nowhere to go. After a short break, my feet were shoehorned into a pair of
satin ballet slippers with heels. This forced me to walk on my toes. I was
pretty used to this, so I didn’t complain. Then the petticoats were applied.
First a very tight one and then 10 or 12 more with increasing fullness until
they stretched to about four feet all around me.

Next a pair of shoulder length lace gloves was drawn up my arms.   They were very
tight and were held up with a wide ribbon that went over my shoulders to my neck
where they were attached to a collar that was tied at the back of my neck. Then
the dress was dropped over my head. My arms were fed into the sleeves and the
bodice was tugged into place. There were about 50 small pearl buttons down the
back that took the maids about fifteen minutes to close. The train was attached
to the dress underneath the bow and the veil was attached to my hair with a
number of pins and combs. Finally, the blusher was dropped over my face and
down to my elbows. Because the veil was lace, it was quite difficult to see.  

I was finally ready. And not a minute too soon, as the limo had just pulled up
outside. We didn’t have time for me to walk down the stairs, so the limo driver
and another male staff member, carried me down and out to the limo. I was
hustled into the car and we sped off to the church. The limo drove into a
courtyard behind the church, where I was helped out.   Even at the church, I
didn’t get a glimpse of the outside world.

I was led into an ante room where final adjustments were made by Edward’s mother
and his two sisters who were my bride’s maids. The rest of the day is just a
blur. The service was thankfully short, and then we were whisked into the limo
for the drive to the reception, which was being held back at the estate.  

There was a reception line, speeches, a meal and finally Edward and I danced.
Then, after I threw the bouquet, we left to get dressed for our honeymoon.
Edward still wouldn’t tell me where we were going.

My maids got me out of the wedding dress and into a gown with a heavily
embroidered, chocolate velvet bodice and a raw silk skirt. Accompanying it was
a matching cape, gloves and shoes. It was beautiful but would have looked more
in place in the 1850’s then today. I had never worried about this before,
because I was always inside the walls of the estate, but the honeymoon would
take me out into the real world, or so I thought. When I mentioned my concern
to Edward, he told me not to worry.

When we were ready, we said our final good-byes and climbed into the limo once
again. We drove for about fifteen minutes before turning into what looked like
a private airport. The limo went right into a hanger where we were dropped off
beside a Lear jet. Edward helped me up the stairs and we settled down into the
most comfortable plane seats I had ever sat in. We taxied to the runway and
took off.

The excitement of the day got the better of me and I fell asleep. I awoke to
Edward’s gentle pat, and he said “We are here.   Time to get up”.

We climbed out of the plane and found ourselves in another hanger. A limo was
waiting there for us. We climbed in and off we went. Edward finally told me
where we were. We were in Switzerland, heading to one of his family's many
private estates.

When we arrived, we went through a gate in a high wall and up the drive to the
portico at the front of the mansion. Once again, I had had no chance to view
the outside world, except through a tinted limo window.

Over the next 2 months, we traveled to five other estates, in five different
parts of the world.   Edward explored each one, but I was confined to the
grounds. Edward explained to me, that in his society, women did not leave the
sanctity of their estates at all. So, he wasn’t trying to be mean, it was just
the way things were done.

When we finally returned, Edward took me to our new home. It was similar to his
parent’s home and only a couple of blocks away. The first couple of weeks were
spent organizing.   It took the maids a considerable amount of time to get my
wardrobe unpacked and then we had to go over everything to make sure it still
fit my 16 inch waist.

That’s how I came to be Jasmine and to being Edward’s wife. I love my life and
wouldn’t go back for anything.

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