He has fun being the mall santa
I didn't miss them at all, and my smaller, smoother clitty became so easy to tuck away inconspicuously. From that point on, my hormone regimen operated uncontested throughout my body. There seemed to be no end to my feminine development.
Mistress took a fancy to showing off her "pet" to her friends in The Scene. We would each be bizarrely made up and dressed, Mistress as Supreme Leather Bitch and myself as a latex or PVC slut. My scenewear was specially-constructed to proudly reveal my magnificent mammaries and plump, rounded tush to our many admirers. My wrists would be bound in padded cuffs and clipped securely to D-rings at my corseted hips. I glided effortlessly on six-inch stiletto-heeled shoes or boots. Mistress would lead me by a leash clipped to a wide collar fastened around my throat. Mistress loved to 'play', spanking or whipping me in front of an always-aroused audience. I often orgasmed spontaneously, lost in a dream world of pleasure-pain. Afterward, Mistress encouraged her friends to fondle my ripe body and frequently loaned me out to another Mistress or Master, that I may pleasure them in the ways I had learned so well.
Everyone in the office was excited about the coming of another Halloween. The company party this year was to be more elaborate; an evening affair with buffet dinner, open bar, music, and games. This was, in part, the company's way of saying "thanks" for a just-ended fiscal year, which saw sales and profits at an all-time high. There would be the obligatory costume contest, of course, but this year there was a new twist. We weren't to wear our costumes to work that day. Instead, we would go home after work, change, then come back for the party.
We each published anonymous clues in the company newsletter, distributed the afternoon of the party, hinting at who we were and what we would be dressed as. The contest involved matching the clues to the employee and correctly identifying the costume before the event. There would be prizes for best costume (of course), accurately guessing the most employee/costume combinations, and for any employee who could stump everyone.
I had bittersweet emotions about the whole affair. We received word that Debbie would return from her maternity leave on the First of November. I suddenly saw my "perfect life" coming to a rapid end. I knew that my position was only intended to be temporary, but I loved it so. I wanted it to go on forever! I didn't know WHAT I would do now. I couldn't go back to being "Matt"; physically, temperamentally, and emotionally, he just wasn't part of me anymore. I didn't really need a job - Melissa could provide for us comfortably - but I couldn't see leaving Barnes and Bidwell and all my friends. I wanted to go all out for what I perceived to be my 'last hurrah'. Melissa offered a suggestion; simple, elegant - and completely "over the top". I loved it! After hours of careful deliberation, I submitted the following poem for publication in the newsletter's contest:
"I'm not what you think, nor would ever conceive to appear before you on this All Hollow's Eve.
A name from the past will return once again Tho you'd never connect thoughts of me now and then.
A choice has been made and the die has been cast, now I'll never return to that life in the past.
A face you know well, with a form you know better, appears to you now bound within Passion's fetter.
Yet all things must pass and our lives must move on, remember me kindly when all's said and done.
The speculation over this poem began the moment the newsletter was distributed.