Chapter 10
Lying would do me no good at this point, I thought to myself.
I had gotten up knowing it was Thursday, starting my day as always with my Lotus Awakening – this morning my nipples felt particularly plump as I massaged my chest, the skin of my smooth taint making my clitty quiver but not harden entirely.
I am opening… I am softening… I am blooming.
Truthfully I didn’t even want to touch my cock, but it told me to and I obeyed, the spectral fingers of the scented oil flitting around the inside of my head in the same way they had since day one.
I noticed the lessened size of my manhood through glassy eyes, looking at it with the same curiosity you might give to an animal or foodstuff you’d never seen before, but not really paying that much attention.
Through the throbbing in my temple that barely ever went away, except when I was fully immersed in the programme as I was now, I saw the shadow of what it had once been, when I had been sat in the study and Cathy had caught me cumming on myself, and I felt happy.
I mustn’t cum, no cumming for me.
I am opening… I am softening… I am blooming.
By this point the thought of a nice hot shower, the water pattering off my smooth, ultra-soft skin, and dripping down my blooming chest and rounding hips making me tremble and bite my lip, gripped me so tightly that I finished my morning ritual and headed to the bathroom with pre leaving a small trail across the floor.
But wait, said something inside, why not leave the door open? If Aminata were to arrive while you were showering and see you…
‘T-then I’d be embarrassed, and things like that only happen in porn anyway.’
Maybe, retorted my own brain, but you want to all the same.
So I made my way downstairs, making sure to leave the door unlocked and even slightly open, the thought of just anybody walking in disturbing but thrilling me in spite of the obvious risks.
On my way back up I ignored the mess I’d made, humming happily to myself, nearly bouncing up the steps and into the bathroom.
Anticipation grew like a furnace inside, working myself up into an ever-increasing state of excitement, telling myself ‘my body knows what it wants,’ in a voice that I inherently knew needed to be higher, ‘I must let my masculine edges melt away.’
It surprised even me that I no longer looked into the mirror and inwardly contorted with shock or disgust, the conversation with Mats seeming to have lifted a weight from my emotions and my mind that had been pressing down on me since my journey began.
I can’t say with certainty that some shrivelled, malnourished husk of myself did not remain inside me spitting curses at every opportunity, but it was ignored and banished to the recesses of the new me.
Yes, I admitted as I took one of my swelling breasts into a palm, unable to hold back from sighing with delight, there was still a way to go.
I had not yet bloomed fully, would not until I had completed the tasks given to me by the Centre, months ahead of me yet, but all the same I was softening.
I was opening. I was becoming the person my fiancée wished me to be. It was for my own good.
Time passed so quickly that when I stepped from the shower, wrapping the towel around my torso in a way I had seen Cathy do so many times, thick locks of hair spilling over my shoulders like seaweed, I saw the flashing numbers on the clock.
I’d been in there for an hour, flushed from my self-love, feeling happier than I had… well… ever.
Trying my best to move daintily over the landing – and failing quite badly – I stomped into my bedroom and froze in the doorway.
Aminata raised her head and looked at me from where she lay, her eyes so dark in the curtain-shadowed room that they seemed almost bottomless, their depth drawing me in like gravity.
She rested patiently on one elbow, her other hand brushing back and forth along the edge of the mattress.
The masseuse lay before me with curves in all the right places, the pert shapes of full breasts inviting a touch, but also toned muscle honed through years spent kneading tension from the bodies of others and disciplined sessions in the gym.
My eyes trailed down from her oval masterpiece of a face, framed by hair that moved like liquid silk, then along the line of her craned neck, to a simple white camisole stretched at the front by her braless bust, her bare, muscular shoulders glistening with oil in the faint daylight.
I could feel her gaze on me, intense and focused, reading my body language and facial expressions as my eyes dropped to the loose linen trousers and froze as still as the rest of my body.
She saw the astonished expression as clear as day, angling her hips so that I could get a better view of what I knew for certain was there, Aminata lifting a long finger and tracing it over the bulge of something I could see pulsing to the steady beat of her heart.
‘The surgeon did a good job, no?’ she said with a perfect smile, slowly massaging her groin, knowing I wouldn’t look away. ‘You would never know.’
‘Never know?’
Aminata gave a small laugh, sliding herself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, while the shape of her engorging cock ran down an inner thigh. It hypnotised me, even though I knew what her next statement would be.
‘Yes, that I was a man.’
And there it was. She was correct though, without a doubt, because I don’t think anyone would have suspected such a thing. I knew, standing there aching for something I wanted but had never had any interest in before, that I would nod and agree to anything she said.
Maybe it was time to admit it, I decided. That ever since Thailand I had been different, trying to live a normal life, a lie. What better time would there be? What better place?
‘From that look you’re giving me, I’ll assume you don’t mind too much about that.’
Her voice made me refocus on the outside of myself – the whole situation unravelling in front of me – watching with bated breath as she held out a hand and gestured at the space in front of her.
‘Drop the towel. Come over here. Kneel.’
As I fidgeted on the spot, trying my best to stall for more time, her arms nestled beneath her chest and lifted her beautiful pair of almost gravity-defying breasts.
For several heartbeats my body resisted, but audio mantras driven into my mind over multiple weeks, day in and day out, using the altered voice of my fiancée moved like invisible strings to puppet my limbs.
My fingers curled around the hem of the towel, pulling it away in a stilted movement, before letting it drop to the floor at my feet.
Aminata let out an appreciative sigh, taking me in with a professional, practised eye.
‘You’re even starting to walk correctly, not that you noticed.’ She chuckled, and the joyousness looked right on her face.
My bare feet moved warily but with implacable pace over the bedroom floor, and before long I found myself standing an arm’s length away from someone I considered a goddess.
Aminata spread her legs to either side, giving me a tantalising and full view of the bulging shape that made my heart flutter.
I knelt down between those legs, gazing up at her with unexpected tears forming in my eyes, holding my breath without realising.
Her arms seemed to flex and move in slow motion when she stuck her thumbs into the waistband of her trousers and tugged them down, already painfully slow, over her broad hips and tight but rounded backside, down…
down… and down some more until her cock sprung free.
I had never seen one up close, not since my own clitty – which by now I had learned to disregard as a true cock, being far too masculine a word for what I had – and, even if I’d not felt warmth racing to the tip of my clitty and an involuntary tightening of my back passage, I was fascinated by the thick, sturdy cock pulsating before me, one shaky hand reaching out to touch it.
I paused a moment, looking to Aminata for permission, that she gave with an incline of her head.
My fingers nervously pulled back the foreskin, only slightly, so that I could marvel at the deep purple head, large and bulbous and already glistening with pre, veins running over the surface visibly throbbing as her cock grew ever harder.
I traced the length, the whole smooth shaft, silky but firm under my touch, making me shiver, moving them all the way down to the wider base and then back up to the impressive curve.
It reminded me not a little of the wand I had been using on myself, and I let out a small moan, the warmth of it radiating through my hand.
A thousand thoughts made my heart thump against my chest, wondering what it would be like to finally open up… to soften…
‘You look eager enough,’ she purred, leaning forward to grip the back of my head, mostly hair but my scalp pulled tight as well. ‘Now listen. I’m not supposed to do this, you’ve only barely completed the beginner rituals. But I’ll tell you a secret.’
Gazing up at her with wide eyes, her own narrowed and her smile almost feral, she took a long inhale and then let it out again, her cock shaking between her.
‘I like to break in starters like you, to help you progress on your way and prepare you for our more advanced steps in your flourishing.’ It sounded professional enough, but even I could tell it was a smoke screen – she simply enjoyed doing it, and the idea thrilled me.
‘Open up. We’ll put that mouth to good use,’ she said. ‘Make sure to keep your teeth out of the way, and breathe through your nose.’