20. Week 7 Part 3

Week 7
Written By Laristopa .

Miss Valentine had her hands on her hips and a genial smile on her face.

It caught Chrissy off guard, but her normally icy tone was soft and friendly. “Hey, kiddo. I heard what happened. Are you okay?”

She reached forward and pulled Chrissy into a tight hug. Chrissy’s face twisted with confusion. She wasn’t...mad? Did she just call him ‘kiddo’? What was going on?

Miss Valentine gently stroked Chrissy's hair and shushed softly. In the stillness of his own home, in the arms of somebody that cared, and knowing he was completely safe from harm, the confusion Chrissy was feeling quickly shifted. Strong, powerful emotions bubbled in his chest, and he began to quiver within Miss Valentine’s grasp.

She shushed again and pulled Chrissy even tighter while whispering, “It’s okay, honey, you can let it out.”

The bubbling emotions boiled over, and Chrissy started sobbing into Miss Valentine’s shoulder. Every bad experience, every anxiety-inducing moment from the last few months, flashed through his brain like a movie.

He’d almost been raped! Those two pieces of—those fucking—ugh! He wished Brad had killed them! They would have deserved it! They made Chrissy feel weak, vulnerable, and defenseless! His sobbing turned to weeping. His house had been robbed, and his sense of security and safety in his OWN HOME had been ripped to shreds! All his belongings had been taken! How could he even feel safe anymore!? He was so small and weak; literally any intruder would have the upper hand on him! He didn’t look anything like himself; he didn’t feel anything like himself! He was wearing a dress, he had boobs, he had a fake vagina between his legs, and it—it bled!? What the fuck was going on!? He was doing this all for a fucking role!? He could have just stayed as ‘Captain America,’ and none of this would have happened! His thoughts, his dreams, his desires—they were so strange—so strange and foreign and—

Chrissy’s body was wracked with deep, ugly crying. His cries echoed in the foyer and filled the house.

And Brad! Brad had protected him—gotten vengeance for him—and for that he’d been taken to jail—all for keeping his girlfriend safe!? It wasn’t fair! None of this was fair!

Miss Valentine pulled away from Chrissy and lifted his chin with her hand. Her calculating, brown eyes locked with Chrissy’s bloodshot, green eyes. Chrissy sniffled while tears and makeup streaked down his cheeks. His eye level was slightly above Miss Valentine's, though he was wearing four-inch heels while she was in tennis shoes.

Miss Valentine wiped a tear from Chrissy’s cheek and spoke warmly, “It’s all going to be okay, sweetie. Brad’s a tough guy. I’ll get him out tomorrow morning. You’ll see. Everything will work out, and you’ll be safe the whole time, I promise.”

Chrissy nodded, and his brain tingled beneath Miss Valentine’s protective gaze. She was always there to take care of him! He quickly stepped forward and rested his head against Miss Valentine’s chest while his arms wrapped around her torso. She accepted Chrissy’s hug, and they shared another long embrace, during which Chrissy’s wild crying slowed and calmed to a soft sob.

Chrissy didn’t feel one iota of sexual attraction towards Miss Valentine while his face was rubbing against her breasts. In fact, the thought didn’t even cross Chrissy’s mind that the interaction was or could be sexual in any capacity.

When the moment was over, Miss Valentine gently lifted Chrissy from her chest and patted his shoulders lightly while suggesting, “Hey, why don’t we get you on the couch, and you can watch some TV for a while, maybe catch a little catnap? I’m sure you’d feel better after zoning out for a bit.”

Chrissy sniffled and nodded. He was worrying for nothing; Miss Valentine would get Brad back safe and sound! She was always there to help Chrissy when he needed her because she obviously cared about him deeply. It made him feel loved!

Chrissy’s feet vibrated for a second before his tendons tightened a little and he became more dependent on heels. He flipped his matted hair behind his shoulders and clicked his way across the foyer through a cloud of air freshener.

Chrissy’s tingling brain churned. He was anxious, and that was totally normal and totally okay. He was so lucky to have people in his corner that were willing to go to jail for him! He wiped his bleary eyes and stood in front of the couch. He folded his dress beneath his legs demurely as he sat and crossed his legs once he was situated. He donned the flowery headphones and ensured his tangled hair and diamond piercings were out of the way. Miss Valentine booted up her laptop, and Chris’ eyes immediately glazed over. His attention was fixated on the screen.

Chrissy barely made it through the first episode before his eyelids closed and he fell into a deep sleep.

He dreamt of the overbearing female voice. It now filled him completely. The voice was in absolute control, and Chris’ masculinity had no latitude to fight back or resist. He awoke with a start in a puddle of sweat, actively panting. The dreaded suspicion that his mind was no longer his own hung in his psyche like a spike. Could he even trust his thoughts anymore?

Needing to distract himself and lighten his mood, Chrissy’s thoughts turned to ‘Friends.’ He was liking it so far! It had a comfy, retro, 90s feel to it. He was excited to see more. The woman inside seemed to endorse his thought process and quieted down.

“Let’s eat so we can get you to bed. You look so tired.” Miss Valentine softly stated while stowing her laptop.

Chrissy agreed and felt intense fatigue from a long, difficult day. His feet were heavy like cinder blocks, and his head was swimming. His body was sore and tired; he needed sleep! Additionally, the sooner he slept, the sooner he could see Brad!

He lumbered behind Miss Valentine into the kitchen and saw there were three bowls on the counter. Two of them were mac and cheese.

The third bowl was filled with white-colored ice cream.

Miss Valentine sat on a stool and stirred the mac and cheese in front of her. She craned her neck to look at Chrissy before patting the other stool and inviting him to eat with her. Chrissy agreed and did so happily while dropping his purse on the counter. He smoothed out his dress as best he could and crossed his legs before digging in.

Miss Valentine swallowed a mouthful of noodles before turning to Chrissy and explaining, “I thought you could use an eating partner tonight. I normally don’t partake in this kind of food, but...it isn’t half bad.”

Chrissy smiled and tapped his spoon against the ice cream bowl. He asked plainly, “Is this, um, regular ice cream, or is it ‘special’ like my shakes, if you, like, don’t mind me asking?’

Miss Valentine lowered her fork and laughed, “I see you and Brad discussed more than just the arousal of your respective genitals. For your information, yes, this is ice cream with ‘special’ properties donated, lovingly, by your boyfriend, Brad, as a matter of fact.” Her voice turned coy as she added, “I’m sure you’ll recognize the taste.”

Chrissy’s cheeks burned, and he stared down into his food.

Miss Valentine continued, “Yes, the trooper told me what happened. Though, honestly, I would have probably known from the stains on your face and dress alone.” She shook her head disapprovingly. “Providing oral sex on the first date can garner you the reputation of a slut if you aren’t careful, honey.”

Chrissy nodded solemnly, still staring at his bowl. He wasn’t a slut! What was he supposed to do? Brad was his boyfriend; he was hot as hell, and he had saved him from rapists! If there was ever a proper time to give head, it was then!

When his macaroni was gone, Chrissy turned his attention to the ice cream. The voice in his head perked up and ordered him to eat. His chest fluttered as he imagined the taste of Brad’s sticky essence filling his mouth. He didn’t need a voice in his head telling him to eat it! Besides, Miss Valentine was the only one there to judge him.

He scooped a spoonful of creamy ice cream into his mouth and tasted a sweet and salty combination. An immediate heat rushed between his legs, and the fluttering in his chest turned to a full-on thumping. He shoveled the rest of the cold treat between his thickened lips and fantasized about Brad masturbating over his bowl. The dessert was quickly gone, and Chrissy scraped the bowl clean. He dropped his spoon and closed his eyes, letting out a contented *hmm* while savoring the familiar flavor.

Miss Valentine chuckled and spoke down to Chrissy while collecting his bowl, “Okay, drama queen, I get it; you like the taste of your boyfriend’s...stuff.”

Chrissy breathed in a heavy mouthful of air freshener while his tendons tightened once again. He ignored his feet and ran his dirty fingers through his knotted hair. He felt disgusting and smelly! He wanted to sleep, but he needed a shower first! He tipped his nighttime pills into his mouth and chased them with a mouthful of pink water.

Miss Valentine shooed Chrissy and ordered, “Go upstairs to your room, missy! Chop, chop! We have a big day tomorrow. I told Doctor Sapphire to come in the morning because you weren’t up for her visit today.”

Chrissy hopped from the stool and thanked Miss Valentine before collecting his purse and departing. He tottered across the foyer to the staircase and ascended it slowly. His legs were sore from being on his heeled feet for multiple hours. He approached his bedroom door and noticed it was closed. He pulled the handle, and it didn’t budge. Confused, Chrissy pulled it again only to get the same result. The door was locked! His brain reeled.

His bedroom door didn’t even have a lock.

Miss Valentine’s voice sounded from behind Chrissy, and he let out a surprised *eep!* before nearly fainting. His heart pounded with surprise and fear as he swiftly turned around.

Miss Valentine’s head was cocked to the side with a puzzled expression. Her voice was confused, “Um, where are you going, sweetheart? That’s my bedroom, remember? Yours is over there.”

She pointed to the guest bedroom down the hallway. Chrissy’s eyebrows raised while her eyes blinked rapidly. Miss Valentine wasn’t the only one that was confused!

Chrissy gulped, “What—um—what do you, like, mean?”

Miss Valentine shook her head. “Your day must have been more mentally draining than I thought. Why don’t you go take a nice shower and get some sleep? It’ll all make sense in the morning.”

Chrissy felt an out-of-body experience as he stepped down the hallway and opened the door to the guest room. He flicked on the light, and his eyes darted around the room. His guest room had completely changed! Everything was pink, including the walls, the bedspread, the lamps, and the pictures. There was even a mirrored vanity overflowing with makeup and nail polish. It looked like the bedroom of a teenage girl!

The guest room was noticeably smaller than the master bedroom, and Chrissy felt cramped in the tinier space. He tossed his purse onto the bed and carefully made his way across the floor. It felt like he was in a completely different home! How had Miss Valentine possibly done all this in one morning? He opened the smaller closet and saw all the high heels gifted by Sylvie had been neatly arranged in rows.

His purses had their own row near the top. They were all accounted for, but with the much smaller space, the purses and shoes looked cramped. He returned back to the bedroom and saw his fake name in chrome letters attached to the wall.

Moving to the attached bathroom, Chrissy saw that even the guest bathroom was quite a bit smaller than his own. It was also soft pink, just like the bedroom.

He tentatively pulled open the drawers and saw a hair dryer, all his skincare products, his toothbrush, his mouth guard, his nose strips, all manner of feminine hygiene products, and many other mundane bathroom essentials.

It was a lot to digest, and Chrissy wasn’t going to take it lying down, but he HAD to take a shower immediately to feel like himself again. And, if Miss Valentine was going to give him a hard time about using his own bathroom, then he figured he’d at least take a shower before making his next move. He was so petrified to see himself in his filthy state that Chrissy avoided looking into the mirror completely.

He lowered the zipper of his dress and let it drop to the tiled floor. He then removed his lace bra, letting his teardrop titties flop free, and peeled his damp panties away from his prosthetic snatch. He clicked closer to the shower, noticing the girly sway of his walk had become more overt. A pair of tall, plastic, clear heels was waiting on the side of the tub. Were the heels for the shower? Chrissy looked down at his pink and white training shoes. They definitely didn’t look waterproof. He sat naked on the side of the tub and switched the heels out. His red-painted nails poked through the new heels, and he found they were a tiny bit tight but generally well fitting.

While swapping, Chrissy glanced between his legs and saw the little white string still splitting his prosthetic labia. He parted his thighs and traced his hand down, past the seam, and timidly tugged at the tampon. He felt its bloated mass dislodge and start sliding out, brushing against his penis. He was in disbelief that this was necessary to begin with and couldn’t imagine a more feminine sight than the one unfolding between his thighs. While it certainly looked and felt real, Chrissy was relieved to see the seam and know that it wasn’t.

He tossed the used tampon into the nearby trash can, where it landed with a wet *splat*. He collected some toilet paper and gingerly dabbed some residual “blood” from his prosthetic vulva. He would never get used to this!

With his “period” properly dealt with, Chrissy shifted the shower curtain to the side and saw all of Miss Valentine’s unlabeled products were accounted for. He activated the water and stepped in once the temperature was ideal. The warm water felt amazing, and the dirt, grime, and negativity of the day seemed to slide off. He looked down at his heels and ensured they were holding up. They seemed to be doing their job perfectly!

While Chrissy washed, he couldn’t help but think about Brad. Was he showering too? Was he safe? He let out a sad sigh while Miss Valentine’s lavender and sour milk scented shampoo soaked into Chrissy’s hair and gently irritated his scalp. The odor and the irritated feeling were normal to Chrissy by now, and he hardly even noticed them.

He spent a little extra time double-washing everything, especially his intimate parts. He gently probed his fake vagina, hardly registering the feeling of his finger sliding against his pathetic cock. Chrissy also grimaced at the hickey on his breast, hoping it was gone by the morning. When he was finished, Chrissy stepped out and began his nighttime routine while wearing only his plastic heels.

He removed the remnants of his makeup, applied his usual skincare products, blow-dried and combed his long, brunette hair, brushed his teeth, and applied his nose strips. He felt the strips immediately begin to alter and shape his face. It didn’t bother Chrissy any longer, as he’d accepted the strips as a part of his routine. He smiled at himself in the mirror. It felt so nice to be squeaky clean once again!

He looked at the heap of clothing on the floor. His crusty, wrinkled dress, his pussy-scented, damp panties, and his stretched, fraying bra. He didn’t want to put any of them back on his pristine body! However, the thought of confronting Miss Valentine naked and/or going to bed naked wasn’t ideal either.

While weighing his options, Chrissy’s eyes trailed up, and he saw a garment hanging on a hook attached to the back of the bathroom door. It was a short, sheer, purple nightie and a matching thong. His cogs turned. The skimpy garment DID solve both his problems, but...it was just so feminine! He eyed the discarded pink, floral sundress, panties, bra, and heels. He hadn’t exactly been dressing like a pillar of masculinity... Who would even be around to care? Besides, the nightie protected his sensitive parts from the bed and partially covered him for his confrontation with Miss Valentine. It was a win-win.

He pulled the slinky nightie from its hook and fluttered it over his head. It rested lightly on his body and caressed his burgeoning breasts. He then slid the purple thong up his silky legs and secured it tightly around his prosthetic pussy. Chrissy turned to examine himself in the mirror.

He was starting to become accustomed to seeing a woman staring back. His feminine appearance had lost its eerie edge, and Chrissy was, instead, noticing flaws and the tiniest of imperfections in his skin. He took note of the trouble spots and planned to address them in the morning.

Chrissy made his way back to the guest room with his sheer, purple nightie swishing around his swaying body. He stared at the chrome ‘Christina’ attached to the wall for a few seconds before yawning. He prepared himself to confront Miss Valentine but felt a strong mental pushback. His brain told him he was far too tired to get involved in a confrontation, especially with somebody as strong and caring as Miss Valentine. It made sense because he didn’t have the proper energy to argue, let alone physically fight if it came to that.

He looked at the comfortable guest bed where his purse was lying. The bed DID look pretty comfortable. One night couldn’t hurt. He would rest up and confront her in the morning. As Chrissy made plans, the realization struck him.

Was Miss Valentine staying the night?

Chrissy had to find out! He tiptoed from the guest bedroom. His tall, plastic heels squished into the soft carpet and kept him relatively quiet. He made it to his bedroom door and put his ear against it to listen for any signs of life.

The door quickly opened, and Miss Valentine appeared in the threshold. She was wearing a black nightie, and her piercing, brown eyes stared at Chrissy with annoyance. Her hand rubbed at her temple, and her face shone with some sort of moisturizing cream.

She asked, clearly irritated, “What is it, Chrissy? We both need to get to bed, honey.”

Chrissy pulled nervously on the hem of his sheer nightie and stared at the floor. His brain was right—he was too tired for this confrontation right now!

Losing his nerve, Chrissy sputtered, “I- I just, um, I just wanted to, like, say thank you for helping me and junk, and- and- tell you goodnight if that’s okay?”

Miss Valentine’s exasperation with Chrissy faded and was replaced by a subdued warmth. She leaned forward and kissed Chrissy on the forehead as she whispered, “Goodnight, Chrissy. You're welcome, sweetie. I love you.”

With that, she closed the door, and Chrissy heard the new lock engage. Chrissy stood on his heels in the silence of the dark hallway. He could still feel slight wetness on his forehead from Miss Valentine’s lips. Several conflicting emotions swirled in his head, but he mostly focused on confusion. She loved him? The woman had clearly lost it!

Chrissy yawned once again and turned back to the guest bedroom. Hopefully he could figure something out tomorrow. For now, he was officially done with the day. He reentered the feminized bedroom and slipped in his mouth guard. It went to work shaping and changing his face. All part of the routine! He removed the decorative pillows on the bedspread and froze when he saw a familiar object lying beneath the final pillow.

He hefted the flesh-colored dildo and felt its weight and size in his hands. It was a tad bit longer than Brad's but not as girthy. It also didn’t have the single long vein running up its length like Brad did. Ultimately, it couldn’t compare to his boyfriend because it wasn’t real! A toy could never compare to a warm, fleshy shaft yearning for release...and the finale of a real man!

All the comparisons between Brad’s dick and the dildo kept sending Chrissy’s thoughts straight back to Brad, alone in his jail cell. Chrissy’s mood soured as he carried the toy into the bed and sank under the covers. His sheer nightie slid against the soft sheets, and he melted into the mattress. He just had to get through the night. Tomorrow he would get his room and his boyfriend back. He shifted his wider hips and larger ass against the sheets and had to admit that the guest bed was pretty damn comfortable!

Chrissy lifted his phone and opened ‘Big Cock Mansion.’ The game flashed to life, and a fat, hairy dick in the tiniest imaginable banana sling swung to and fro across the screen. Chrissy’s eyes glazed over, and his already cock-obsessed brain exploded with even deeper and more plentiful fantasies, desires, preferences, and proclivities. Sometime after the first half hour, a welcome *ZAP* numbed Chrissy’s penis, and the dildo found its way within her tiny thong. She slid the toy in and out with one hand and manipulated the game with the other. Every inch and vein of the long dildo stimulated her inner walls, and she pounded her deepest recesses again and again. After a few hours and multiple toe-curling orgasms, Chrissy drifted to sleep and dreamt of nothing but manly men and their hairy cocks.

Laristopa .
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19. Week 7 Part 2