Misti Love-Fitzpatrick

Rekka watched the crowd stream into the auditorium. It wouldn’t be long until all of the 1,000 seats were filled, she estimated. She was with her parents to celebrate her brother’s graduation from law school. Haruto had worked hard and it was time to honor his accomplishment. The students walked in groups of about 20 from the front rows to the stage. Rekka and her parents cheered as Haruto shook hands with the law school dean and received his diploma. There were about 200 more students to go, however. Rekka took a deep breath and reminded herself to be patient, but soon gave up. ...

I didn’t know what to say to Phillip. His right hand moved to the top of my dress. It zippered from top to bottom. He fingered the gold zipper. “I’m just curious, Terri. How did you choose this dress for the occasion?” he asked. I smiled. I was standing with my back to him, studying the lavish drapery of the large room. The dress was made of shiny black spandex – skintight and with a micro-miniskirt hem. I never had worn a dress this revealing. A pair of black silk pantyhose and pumps of the same color with a five-inch stiletto heel completed my outfit. ...

I was burned out. For the CEO of a mid-size corporation, that’s a problem. I knew it. My chief of staff, Malcolm, knew it. The other C-suite executives knew it. Even the Generation Z girl who brought me my espresso macchiato in the morning knew it. I struggled to make decisions, often was irritable and on occasion was downright rude. “How long has it been since you took a vacation, Lauren?” Malcolm asked me. ...

Chapter Two “What will our second night together bring, Carrie?” Ken asked. “Well, Ken. The world is our oyster – and you’re the pearl,” I replied, as I undid the wire cage holding the Champagne cork. Ken and I were lounging in the living room of my hotel suite. He fetched two flutes from the kitchen. I popped the cork. “To us – and the momentous decision we need to make about tonight,” I said. ...

My husband kissed me lightly on the lips. “Heading out to the airport, baby,” Kevin whispered. “I’m running late.” I checked the clock — 5 a.m. Ugh. “Make a lot of money, honey,” I replied, struggling to say something coherent. My husband was en route to Dublin for a long business trip. He pulled back the bedsheet to reveal my lingerie; a lace baby doll chemise in deep grey. It was what I had put on several hours earlier, hoping we would have steamy sex. But Kevin had to work late and he said he was too tired to fuck by the time he returned home. He was very apologetic. ...

2.3: Sissification Chapter Four As Natalie had anticipated, her final days in the Bartley household felt bittersweet. Bitter because Natalie began to have some regrets about her affair with Dick. In the final month of her sissy training, Dick instructed his wife, Eve, to sleep on a cot in a corner of the master bedroom while Natalie shared his bed. In addition to watching them have passionate sex, which often stretched late into the night, Eve had listened as Natalie told Dick about how special it made her feel to be his lover. ...

Chapter Three As Dr. Bill Yallow merged onto the Los Angeles freeway, Tomi Lungren saw the massive billboard. It was an eye-catching image, a hammer covered in black velvet against a white backdrop with the message “Piper 2068.” “What does that mean?” Tomi asked. “Pam Piper is the U.S.A. President. She’s running for re-election next year. That’s the logo of her Fascist Party,” Dr. Yallow said. “The velvet reminds me of a song I did a few weeks ago at the Whiskey a Go Go,” Tomi said, reciting the refrain. ...

Chapter Two Tomi Lungren wondered why she did not feel self-conscious in her revealing lingerie as she chatted with Dr. Bill Yallow. The white lace corset beautifully accentuated the cleavage of her 34C breasts. Her matching panties were skimpy enough to confirm Dr. Yallow’s supposition that her natural blonde pubic hair was trimmed, not shaved. Her white silk stockings glistened in the bright sunlight. Like everything else, Tomi had no memory of the man in front of her. Struggling to summon even a fragment of her life before today, she came up empty. The date was June 1, 2067. What happened on May 31? Tomi had no idea, having been in a coma. ...

2.2: Sissification Chapter Three It did not take long for Eve Bartley to make up her mind. An hour or so after Natalie performed fellatio on her husband by the swimming pool, Eve met with Dick to inform him. “Natalie has to go,” Mrs. Bartley said as they sat in Dick’s office, the door locked. “I can’t tolerate this. It wasn’t just that she violated one of my biggest rules. She seemed to relish the drama surrounding it, the blowjob right in front of my face, and fighting with me.” ...

2.1: Sissification Chapter Two On the morning after Eve Bartley informed Nathan he would undergo sissy training, she let him sleep late. Beauty rest needed for the first day of training. It was a pleasant spring day in the middle-class suburb where Eve lived with her husband, Dick. In the bedroom where Nathan slept peacefully, Mrs. Bartley had arranged a vase of lilacs and laid out a pretty outfit for him. ...

Chapter One A loud, piercing tone woke up Warden Tommy Tuber. It was a few minutes after 3 a.m. He glanced at his girlfriend. Sleeping on her stomach, she was still in the hot pink corset she wore when he had made love to her a few hours earlier. He pulled the white satin sheet over her sexy derriere seconds before the large computer screen captured their images in bed. ...

2.0: Sissification Chapter One Captain Tim Tillis’ job was to fly sissies to a resplendent mansion owned by a secretive man known as Xavier. The sissy sashaying toward the Learjet Global – at a private runway about 100 miles west of Kansas City – was different from the others. Captain Tillis was puzzled. She wasn’t pretty in pink. She was pretty in black. Not just pretty. Absolutely fucking stunning in a shiny black sissy maid dress. ...

Heading into the darkness as midnight approached, Alice Tunrida slipped a photograph, a piece of paper and a handwritten map of a cemetery into her white rabbit purse. It was Halloween, the night every year that Rolf Pfluger’s death metal band played in her hometown of Detroit. The taxi driver resembled a cartoon character, his head swiveling wildly, as he spotted Alice waiting on the sidewalk outside her apartment. Alice rarely wore a costume on All Hallow’s Eve and never had worn a sexy one until now. ...

Continues from chapter four Chapter Five Countess Alexandra Gladstone saw the shadow seconds before the white, bony hand gripped her face. The handkerchief was soaked with chloroform. Her next memory was of a tall, thin man with an abundant nose, locking her into a cage atop a wagon. Her kidnapper drove a Landau carriage; the wagon had metal bars to prevent escape. Alexandra’s screams for help were rendered silent by a steel spider gag, the ring inside her mouth attached to a wide black leather strap around her head. ...

1: Sheplacement Professor L.W. Johnson smiled as Paula Pokovsky opened the door of her apartment and greeted him with his favorite cocktail, a 7 and 7. He kissed her on the cheek. “I love your new dress; beautiful, just like you,” he told her. He sipped his drink and she loosened his tie. As she took his suit jacket and hung it in the closet, he watched her long legs, encased in shiny, tan pantyhose. ...

Continues from chapter three_ ### Chapter Four The soothing rays of the sun awoke Countess Alexandra Gladstone. The gold light streaming into the bed-chamber enhanced her afterglow from The Bootmaker’s machine. As she predicted upon her arrival the day before at Brunel Hall, spring had returned to the Lancashire coast. Walking from the ornate bed, with its canopy in scarlet red with silver leaf, to the French doors, she slipped off the black silk robe as well as her corset, made of the finest leather in olive green. She made sure no one could see her from below and stepped onto the balcony. ...

Continues from chapter two_ ### Chapter Three The letter from The Bootmaker arrived six months to the day after Countess Alexandra Gladstone’s visit to his mansion. Breaking the envelope’s seal of black wax featuring its distinctive letter B, she read its contents with great haste. _> Countess Gladstone, I pray that you are well. I have finished your pair of boots. Please forgive me for my immodesty, but I am particularly proud of the result. The leather is of the highest quality I’ve ever secured and in an amount I had not anticipated. As a result, I have a surprise for you. It is the product of a new venture for me and you are the inspiration. I remain humble, for you will be the judge of my efforts. ...

Continues from chapter one_ ### Chapter Two The Bootmaker turned his attention away from the machine that he was building down the hallway. Countess Alexandra Gladstone deserved his total concentration. The first step in his plan was to make a special pair of boots for her. If he failed, there likely would not be a second step. He slowly raised the six layers of Alexandra’s petticoats to reveal her right leg up to her knee. ...

Chapter One Countess Alexandra Gladstone returned to her bedroom after tea. The fog that shrouded London for days showed no sign of relenting. Underneath the Sept. 27, 1870 copy of The Times on her nightstand, she found the letter that arrived nearly a week ago. The heavy parchment and the envelope’s large seal of black wax featuring the letter B offered clues that the author was a man of refinement. His handwriting was impeccable, a trait that Alexandra associated with gentlemen possessing minds of precision. She read the letter for the third time, intent on gleaning whether there were any veiled motives in its unusual offer. She did not find any. ...

Continues from chapter six Chapter 7 It was a beautiful afternoon, the sun still high and the blue sky cloudless as my husband, Yusuf Barzigan, pulled the red Mercedes convertible into the driveway. The white house on Thistledown in the suburb of Smithtown was large, but not a mansion. I liked its appearance – classic, but not ostentatious. “What interested you in this house?” I asked Yusuf. “Oh, so many things. It just caught my eye – like you.” ...

Continues from chapter five Chapter 6 The day before I left for the United Arab Emirates, Phillip Goldstein, my boss at the hedge fund and my Master, said he wanted to bid me farewell. We met in the massive Library in his mansion. A large, old book with a drawing of a large key on the cover rested in front of him. “I’ll be gone for only a month, Master,” I told him. Despite his celibacy - or more likely due to it - I wore a short black leather jacket without a blouse or bra underneath, a skintight royal blue leather miniskirt, and black leather thigh-high boots with a platform heel. ...

Continues from chapter four Chapter 5 Yusuf Barzigan, the businessman who was considering a major investment in the hedge fund where I worked, apologized for phoning so late from Dubai. “No worries, Mr. Barzigan. I just returned from an evening out.” “Please call me Yusuf.” “Yes, Yusuf. I’ve used Mister and your last name as a sign of respect.” I put the Hitachi Magic Wand that I had planned to use back in its red velvet bag. It was a windy spring night. A steady rain fell. ...

Continues from chapter three Chapter 4 After my M2F transformation, Phillip Goldstein, the gentleman who was my boss and Master, gave me a week off from work. He extended it to two weeks and then a month, hiring a male temp to fill in for me at his hedge fund. I relaxed, did some shopping (actually a lot) and adjusted to my body’s changes. However, it was a temporary alteration to my psyche that emerged as my first challenge. ...

Continues from chapter two Chapter 3 As Loc left the nightclub floor, I asked Mr. Goldstein if he would drive me to the place where I would be administered the Elixir, the potion which was my hope for M2F transformation. “That’s not the standard procedure,” he replied. “Loc does the transporting.” “I thought with the intimacy that we shared, that it would be nice to be together longer. I feel close to you now. Please,” I said. ...

Continues from chapter one Chapter 2 After driving Yusuf Barzigan to his hotel, Brian suggested that I sit in the front seat of the four-door black Mercedes for the drive back to the office. I did so, crossing my long legs with Mr. Barzigan’s compliment about my taste in French silk hosiery still at the forefront of my mind. “You’ve had quite an eventful first day at work, Patricia,” said Brian, the ex-military officer who was in charge of security at the hedge fund of my boss, Phillip Goldstein. ...

Chapter 1 “Is it true what they say about CDs?” I turned to see the man who asked the question. He looked 40ish, in a black Judas Priest T shirt and ripped jeans. “I’m not a CD,” I replied curtly. “I’m a transgender female.” “Whatever,” he said. “I don’t know the latest lingo. What I do know is your sexy ass and big tits caught my eye. Can I buy you a drink?” ...