I saw my wife today. Well, my ex-wife. She didn't even notice me which I suppose is a good thing. At least it means that my transformation has worked and I am now a believable woman. Seeing her reminded me of the way things used to be, before He found me and before He showed me my true self. Some days it's harder to remember than others. When I see myself in the mirror and I see my fake, bolt-on boobs and my long platinum blonde hair, my perfectly shaped eyebrows and my thick, juicy lips, even I forget that I'm a man.
I wasn't always like this, I used to be a normal man, happily engaged to a beautiful woman. I was a little pudgy around the middle but I could still rock some muscle on my shoulders and arms, I even had a beard. Then I met Him and everything changed. How we met and how it started is a story for another time, but suffice to say it started as a normal kinky relationship, Him the commanding Dom and me the timid submissive, but it wasn't long before He began to want more from me. I was to become his bimbo.
I had no desire to be a woman and especially a bimbo, but fear is a powerful persuader. It became apparent very quickly that I had no say in the matter. It began with threats of beatings if I did not wear women's underwear when we were out together. The cocktail of fear and excitement was almost more than I could bear. I can't decide which was better, that, or feeling the g-strings working their way into the crack of my ass as I walked. I felt strangely erotic wearing a bra, especially since it was our secret. Such little changes were not enough for Him though. He soon banned me from having my hair cut and if I was found to have not shaved for a day I would catch a beating. Over the course of my hair growing out, I was taken for laser hair removal on my face and was made to sit and watch as He crushed up Oestrogen pills and mixed them into my food. One of my most vivid memories is being cuffed with my hands behind my back and dragged through the house to the bathroom, I was thrown into the bathtub so He could wash bleach through my hair, changing my once dark hair to brilliant silvery blonde.
I spent those months being beaten a lot. He put me on a strict diet to lose weight and if I was caught sneaking any unhealthy food, I would be beaten. The same went for exercise. Not exercising enough? That's a beating. Working any muscle groups other than my stomach or ass? That's a beating. Squats and crunches were mandatory, He demanded a tight, round bubble-butt.
And then the big day came. I don't remember being knocked out, but He obviously drugged me or something. One minute I was standing in the kitchen, washing up the plates from the breakfast I had prepared for Him and then the next thing I knew I was waking up in what looked like a mixture of an operating room and a crack den, with pain in my face and chest. My mouth was dry and as I licked my lips I discovered they were three times the size they had been and so soft. I freaked out, well I thought I freaked out, but that was nothing compared to the reaction I had when I looked down at my body and saw the new 34DD silicon tits I had not known I was to have.
He walked into the room and saw my new body. My bimbofication was complete.
