Archive-name: Changes/bob2.txt
Archive-author: Ruth White
Archive-title: Bob Gets His - Part 2


                             CHAPTER
                                6

     Summoned to Dr. van Damme's office, Joe curtseyed, then stood
at attention while she finished reading a letter. Working as a maid
had made Joe meek and docile, and the subliminal tapes played to
him at night reinforced his newfound submissiveness. 

     "Joe, it seems that I have to go away for a spell on business.
I was going to leave you here, but your ex-wife Gloria has asked
that you serve her while I am busy. I think this would be good
training for you, and an excellent introduction back into the real
world. You will find clothing laid out for you in my room. Take
this suitcase and this." She handed Joe a passport.

     Like the good maid that he had become, Joe curtseyed. "At once
Madame."

     Joe picked up the suitcase and left, filled with mixed
emotions; excited to be going home, relieved that he wouldn't be
forced into prostitution, yet depressed at the thought of serving
Gloria as her maid. 

     Joe looked at the passport he'd been given . It was French.
Opening it, he saw a photograph of a blonde woman in it. Then it
dawned on him; that was his picture in it, as he looked now.  He
glanced at the name; Yvonne LaEsclave. Joe's French lessons hadn't
gone far enough to allow him to understand his new title.

     In Dr. van Damme's room, Joe found a pile of clothing with a
note on it which directed him to strip and get dressed in them.
Before he did, Joe looked in the suitcase he'd been given. It was
filled with women's clothing. Joe stripped. He put on the apparel
selected for him; a matching white panty and underwire bra set of
nylon, white panty-hose, a white nylon half-slip,, white pumps, a
short sleeved white silk blouse, and a wool suit in navy. Joe
zipped up the straight skirt. 

     "This outfit is pretty nice." Thought Joe, brushing out his
bangs, the rest of his long hair fell gracefully down his back. The
suit didn't hide his well-endowed figure, but neither did it expose
his body to the world, as so many of his outfits did. Joe looked at
his pretty face in the mirror, realizing how much time and effort
he had been saved by never having to apply cosmetics, thanks to the
tattoos on his face.  

     Carrying the suitcase and the jacket that matched his skirt,
Joe went back to the Doctor's office.

     Joe and Dr. van Damme were in a golf cart being taken to the
airstrip on the island. When they arrived, Joe saw a private jet,
engines running, waiting to take off. Once he had fastened his seat
belt, Joe was given some pills to take. Allegedly to prevent
airsickness, they instead knocked Joe out for the duration. He'd
never be able to describe the island where he'd been held or it's
location.


                             CHAPTER
                                7

     Joe awakened. He had no idea how long he had been out. Dr. van
Damme was speaking to him. "Remember, you are Yvonne. Speak only
French. You will wind up in serious trouble otherwise."

     Joe knew better than to disobey her, He deplaned with the
Doctor and approached customs. It became obvious to Joe that the
customs inspector had eyes only for his beauty when his passport
was perfunctorily stamped without so much as a glance. Joe kept his
conversation limited to "oui", "non", and "merci monsieur", and
before he knew it he was in a limousine headed for Manhattan.

     Joe winced inwardly as the limo pulled up in front of his old
house. He'd loved the old brownstone and, while he hadn't planned
on returning to it, he never once figured that he'd come back to
work in it as a maid. The surprises just kept coming as Monica
opened the door to greet them. "Hello Doctor. Joe."

     They exchanged greetings and Joe wandered into his old digs,
finding that they had been totally redecorated. In much the same
manner that Joe had been changed, the old masculine decor was gone,
replaced by an ethereal feminine interior. Before he could go any
further, Monica intercepted him and took him to his room, which had
been the servants quarters. It was very femininely decorated. Joe
looked in the closet. It was full of maid's uniforms.

     "Now Joe." Said Monica. "Let me tell you the ground rules. You
must at all times act like a perfect servant. You must pretend
never to notice what goes on around here, and above all never say
a word without being spoken to first."

     "Why are they doing this to me?" Joe asked Monica. 

     "I think you know the answer to that Joe. Just be careful or
you'll be beaten severely." 

     Monica went on to explain to Joe what was what, and how he was
expected to behave. When she was done, Joe undressed, washed, and
went to bed where he spent a fitful night.

     The next morning Joe showered, then got dressed in one of the
uniforms from the closet. He discovered that all of the lingerie
provided for him was the same; black satin bikini panties with
matching garter belts and push-up bras. Joe hooked up the black
stockings that he'd found in a drawer, put on one of the many pairs
of the black patent high-heeled pumps that were in the closet, and
knowing what was expected of him, stepped a petticoat and pulled it
up to his waist. The black satin maid's uniform followed. Joe
figured that he'd be wearing one all time now since that was all
there was in the way of clothing in the closet. Joe zipped up the
dress. His cleavage was exposed and outlined in white lace. The
short skirt was flounced out by the petticoats and with every move
revealed his stocking tops. None of this was new to Joe, as he tied
on the white satin apron with a big bow in back and then rolled his
hair up in a bun and put on the white cap, but so far he'd only had
to dress like this occasionally. It would be a new experience to
dress like regularly. Naturally, the transvestite responses
programmed into Joe's mind were tickled pink as he minced out to
the kitchen.        

     Bob woke up. As he did every morning, he stripped off his
negligee and went to the mirror. "No changes yet." He thought,
disappointed as he examined himself.

     Bob had started on hormones and couldn't wait to see signs of
the development to come. He looked at his hair. Long for a man, the
brown locks were still to short to be styled and permed. Bob was
eagerly looking forward to his first trip to a beauty salon.
Meanwhile, Monica and Gloria were giving him a crash course in
being a woman. As her price for letting him do this, Gloria had
made Bob sign some papers in front of her lawyers, but he didn't
care; he was on his way. Bob looked down at his shriveled penis. He
had no use for it anymore and, some days, it was all he could do to
keep from grabbing a knife and cutting it off.

     Bob dressed, putting on the corset and padding which would
give him a feminine figure until the hormones did. The thought,
that some day the pads in his bra would be replaced by his own
breasts pleased Bob no end. Over his lingerie, he pulled up panty
hose, dropped a slip over his head, and stepped into a peach linen
dress that buttoned up the front. He buttoned the dress up, put on
the matching belt, and then stepped into a pair of white sling-back
pumps. Bob applied some make-up and checked his fingernails, long
and painted red, they were good for now. He put earrings in his
recently pierced ears, selected a matching necklace and bracelet,
brushed mousse into his hair, and looked at himself. Yes, he could
pass for a fashionable young woman, he did everyday.

     Bob was excited. Today he was to meet Leslie's sister,
Justine, who, he'd been told, had been able to arrange surgery for
him overseas somewhere. Bob sprayed on some perfume and went down
to breakfast.

     "It's a good thing I learned to cook at Dr. van Damme's." Joe
thought as he scrambled eggs, fried bacon, and made toast. Gloria
didn't have a cook and he had been told that he would have to not
only serve, but also cook breakfast, lunch, and sometimes the rare
dinner that she ate at home.

     As instructed, Joe had set the table for four and one by one
they came in and sat down; Gloria, Monica, the Doctor, and the girl
whose name, he had been told, was Roberta.

     Bob looked at the new maid. She was all tits and ass in her
revealing little uniform. He thought to himself "she looks like a
little tramp, but if that's what Gloria wants ...?" 

     Bob introduced himself to her,"Good morning, I am Roberta, you
must be Yvonne?"

     Bob was surprised to see the maid curtsey to him and say "oui
Mademoiselle. Bon jour. Would you like some cafe?"

     "Well at least she's well trained." He thought.

     The four of them left immediately after breakfast and Joe went
about his chores. He made up all the beds and while vacuuming the
living room, stopped to stare at his picture on the mantle; a
picture of him as a man that is. It was a copy of the same picture
that Joe carried in his little gold locket which he usually wore
when not in uniform. A tear came to his eye, but he just brushed it
aside and, like a good little maid, went on with his work.        
   
     The next day, Joe was told to pack up the Doctor's clothing,
then help Roberta pack for a trip the two of them would be taking.
As he folded Roberta's lingerie, Joe tried to put his finger on
what was so peculiar about her. In the drawer, under her panties,
Joe discovered just what it was that was different about her; he
looked at a birth certificate in the name of Robert Watson, with
him, Joseph Watson, listed as the father. 

     Roberta was a man! 

     She was his son!

     It became clear to Joe what was going on; Gloria was pulling
some kind of stunt to try and get her hands on Bob's inheritance.
Just then Bob walked in.
     
     Bob looked at Yvonne. Good, she was almost done packing his
things. He was shocked to hear her say; "you're Robert aren't you?"

     "Yes, what of it?" He said, irritated at being read by a
servant.  

     Bob was surprised as the girl came to him, with a look of
horror on her pretty face. "You must leave now. Get out of Gloria's
clutches. Go now before ... "

     "What is going on here!"

     Monica and Gloria were standing in the door to Bob's room.  

     "Give me that." Said Gloria, grabbing Bob's birth certificate
from Joe's hands. She returned it to Bob.

     "You had better be more careful where you put things like
this. And as for you, you insolent wench," she addressed Joe,
"Monica will demonstrate what happens to an upstart maid who sticks
her nose in where it does not belong."

     Joe was terrified and there was no fight in him. Monica
grabbed his arm, pulled him over to the bed, and sat down. "I'm
sorry Yvonne, but I warned you."

     The sex changed girl demonstrated her remaining strength as
she held Joe still with one hand. "Pull up your skirts." She
commanded.

     Fully submissive now, Joe did as ordered; holding his skirt
and petticoats up around his waist. Monica reached out, pulled his
panties down to his ankles, and threw him over her lap face down.
"Roberta, give me your hairbrush."

     Joe was humiliated. To be thrown over Monica's knees like a
little girl, with his plump womanly ass revealed for all to see.
Terror replaced his humiliation as soon as the first blow fell. You
see, Joe had resolved to take his spanking like a man, but he was
no longer a man and was shortly bawling his eyes out.

          Bob watched as Yvonne was beaten soundly for her
indiscretion; she was wailing in a high voice, and her legs were
kicking wildly, hampered by the panties around her ankles. Finally,
with her ass glowing cherry red, she was released.

     "Now pull up your panties and get back to work." Said Monica.

     Bob watched as Yvonne put her panties back on, smoothed out
her dress, and turned to leave.

     "Aren't you forgetting something."

     The maid turned, curtseyed to Monica, and said "merci
Maitresse," then fled the room crying.

     "That was pretty severe," thought Bob, "I hope she learned a
lesson from it."

     Joe watched from an upstairs window, with tears in his eyes,
as Bob and Dr. van Damme got in the limousine and left for the
airport.         

                             CHAPTER
                                8
 
     At the airport, while they waited to board the private jet,
Dr. van Damme introduced Bob to their traveling companions; a good
looking woman who was introduced as Virginia Mason and two teenaged
girls; Melissa Walters and Stephanie Grenwald. Bob felt comfortable
with the sophisticated and educated Virginia, but those two girls!
They were so trampy with their bleached blonde hair, short skirts,
and tight blouses. All they seemed interested in was flirting with
every man who crossed their path. Virginia explained to Bob that
the two girls had just turned eighteen and had never been away from
home before. She also told him that she was a doctor and that they
were patients of hers. Virginia had taken them on this trip because
she felt sorry for them. 

     "They are both high school dropouts and the future doesn't
hold much for them except as a waitress, wife, or dancer. Anyway
they go they're trapped and I wanted them to have a little
excitement before that happens."

     Bob considered how thoughtful that was of her.

     Once they were back on the island, Dr. van Damme conferred
with Dr. Mason and Bob Weinstein. "I must tell you two that these
results far exceed any expectations I had. I have examined Melissa
and Stephanie and cannot find any evidence that they were once
males."

     "That's the beauty of it, there isn't any." Exclaimed Dr.
Mason. "I have conducted extensive tests on them and they appear to
be female down to the cellular level."

     "My next question is, What's to stop somebody else from
hypnotizing them and changing them again."

     Bob Weinstein answered. "The changes can only be initiated
while under the influence of the drug. When the drug wears off,
after about a day, the changes continue but can no longer be
affected by further hypnotic suggestion. It also appears that the
human body has an increasing resistance to the drug. In other
words, repeated applications have less and less effect until
finally the body ignores any further suggestions. Take Melissa and
Stephanie for instance, Dr. Mason conducted repeated experiments on
them and after a couple of tries the drug would do nothing."

     "So they are girls permanently?"

     "For the rest of their lives."

     "How long have they been like this, and how long did the
changes take Virginia?"

     "They took about six months to stabilize as females and I have
had them under observation for going on two years. I think that the
six months can be shortened considerably. You see I performed no
surgery on them, especially as regards the male organs, thinking
that they would retract into the body and become ovaries. However
the boys developed ovaries separately and the testicles eventually
atrophied and disappeared. I believe if the testicles were removed
before commencing the procedure, that the changes would occur more
rapidly, without the body still producing male hormones."

     "Next time we'll try that. Bob, when can we start
experimenting with it here?"

     "That's the only problem Doctor. The drug Dr. Mason used was
a very rare one and I didn't expect these effects. I thought only
that we could fool the body into regrowing a lost limb and things
like that. These changes only occur when the drug is administered
in massive doses, and during her trials Dr. Mason used most of it
up."

     "Can't you get some more."

     "I don't know. It's extracted from a rare flower that grows
only in the amazon. With the loss of the rain forests over there,
my sources haven't been able to locate sufficient quantities of
them. We have plantations where we are trying to cultivate the
plant, but until we're successful, which may take over five years,
we are limited to the stock on hand."

     "How much is that?"

     "Based on what Dr. Mason tells me, enough for possibly four
changes."

     "Damn the bad luck." Said Dr. van Damm staring off into space.
She understood the potential of such a drug.

     "What about Stephanie and Melissa?" Asked Dr. Mason. 

     "I have their parents hypnotized also and they believe their
daughters have left home and moved to Los Angeles."

     "Are they of any further use to you?"

     "No, not really."

     Dr. van Damme was in a sour mood over the unobtainable drug
and this may have accounted for her next action. "Hmmm. Do this.
Virginia, remove any psychological blocks that you may have put on
them, I want them to know who they are, what they have become, and
be fully aware of their surroundings. Bob, have Dr. Brenner give
them the permanent hair treatment; long and blonde. I want this
done by Saturday when the fuel tanker arrives. When it leaves, I
want them on it. They will be a little gift from me to our
supplier. Those Arabs do so love blonde girls. Meanwhile, I want to
see this effect of your's firsthand, and I have just the subject
for it"

     Dr. Mason, scrubbed up and dressed in surgical greens, looked
down at the almost comatose youth on the operating table. "Hello
Bob, remember me? I'm Dr. Mason and I'll be performing your surgery
today."

     "Already affected by the anesthesia, Bob could only grunt at
her."

     Bob was put under and castrated. In the recovery room, the
other drugs were administered and Dr. Mason then induced, what was
already being referred to as, the Weinstein Effect on Bob and he
commenced a one-way journey to womanhood.
     
     Bob came out from under the fog of anesthesia and smiled to
himself. "Well that's that," he thought, "it's all over now,"
little realizing that, for him, it was just beginning.

     Bob couldn't feel anything below his waist, but that didn't
bother him. He knew that he was a complete woman now. A lot of what
had happened to him since he arrived here, and he never did learn
where exactly here was, seemed a bit excessive and not exactly what
he had expected. Take, for example, his hair, his entire body had
been depilated, and his head covered with long blonde artificial
stuff that couldn't be cut. Or his fingernails, they also had been
removed and replaced with long red artificial ones which also
couldn't be cut. Or his feet, they had been operated on and made
smaller, but now only felt right in high heels. Not to mention his
face, on which make-up had been tattooed.

     That was all O.K. though. Bob was overjoyed with the other
changes to his body. He spoke in a lovely soprano voice, thanks to
the operation on his larynx; it didn't bother him very much that he
had to learn to speak all over again. Bob sported the lush body of
a young woman; wide hips, tiny waist, full breasts, and at long
last, the genitals to match it. Bob knew that the work here was
top-notch, any physician examining him would conclude with
confidence that he had been born a girl. He laid back, satisfied at
last. Before he returned to unconsciousness, Bob thought he felt
something pulling on his earlobe.

     Dr. van Damme considered Robert Watson. His transformation
into a beautiful woman was complete. In many of the procedures,
such as body contouring and hair implantation; the same programs
used on his father, still stored in computer memory, were used on
him with predictable results. Father and son were now, for all
intents and purposes, twins.

     It irked the doctor that Robert should enjoy what had been
done to him. In her opinion, a man who had to be forced into
womanhood shouldn't receive any satisfaction from it. She had
debated removing the psychological programming which had driven Bob
to change his sex and allowing him to awaken to discover that he
had irreversibly turned himself into a blonde bombshell. "I made a
deal though and I can't renege on it," she thought, "but perhaps I
can work out something fitting."  

                             CHAPTER
                                9

     Bob examined himself in the mirror. "You sure are some babe."
He said to himself. It never failed to amaze him what a gorgeous
creature he'd been turned into. He had expected, like most of the
transsexuals he'd met at the Institute, to wind up looking like a
masculine woman, but there was not even so much of a hint of his
old maleness in the sexy girl who looked back at him.

     Dr. van Damme watched Bob admire himself. "He really can't
tell that he's not yet fully changed?"

     Dr. Mason told her; "No. All he sees is the image we have put
in his mind which he will eventually conform to."

     "Amazing!"

     Bob pulled pink satin panties up over his flat crotch. He
liked the way it looked in panties now and had come to really enjoy
wearing the apparel appropriate to his new sex. He settled his
large breasts into the cups of his bra and pulled it up. Bob
thought about his new wardrobe, every item in it made him appear as
if he was going to a cocktail party or a formal dance. Dr. van
Damme had also considered his wardrobe, and the money she saved by
giving him Joe's old one. They were both the same size.

     Bob wondered about something he hadn't considered until now;
he really wasn't attracted to men at all. It surprised him that he
would want so much to be a woman and, now that he was one, lack all
interest in sex. He decided to ask Dr. van Damme about it during
his interview with her scheduled for today.

     Bob buttoned the back of his dress. It was the least exotic
one he could find. It was black with a white floral design on it,
made of very thin faille, with a full flowing skirt. He belted it,
glad that he was able to find something that wasn't tight and
revealing. Bob glanced in the mirror again, his appearance was
flawless; he couldn't get over how cosmetic surgery had made his
lips full and changed the shape of his eyes. He was a living doll. 

     Bob regarded the earrings hanging from his ears; after
surgery, his castrated testicles had been sealed in clear acrylic
with a little golden chain attached. He had eventually found them
permanently attached to, and swinging from, his ears. He was told
that this was something that the Institute requested be done, to
always remind him where he had come from. Bob was told that they
could be removed if, in the future, he determined that he just
couldn't live with them, but for now they stayed. Bob decided that
he liked his new earrings; his balls were finally proving
themselves useful for something.

     Bob thought about how he had to legally change his name when
he got home and what he would change it to. He hadn't decided for
certain; he was partial to both Pamela and Elizabeth.


     Bob sat on the couch in Dr. van Damme's office, not believing
what he was hearing. "So you see Bob, Gloria refuses to pay any
money for charges incurred after the surgery was completed. That
leaves you responsible financially for your room and board since
then, and for your wardrobe as well."   

     "But I don't have any money Doctor, Gloria said she'd pay for
all of this."

     "I am afraid that you are mistaken. Read this agreement she
signed with you and I am sure  you will realize that she has
fulfilled her obligations to you entirely."

     Bob took the offered paper and read it. Gloria had done
exactly what she had said she would. Bob felt his stomach sinking;
he had signed away his entire fortune to her. "What can I do
Doctor?"

     "Well being as you owe me a considerable sum of money, I am
sure we can work something out."

     Bob looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was neither
pleased nor comfortable. His hips and ass were crushed in the tight
girdle which held up his support stockings. Likewise his breasts
were crammed into a minimizer bra, reducing their size to where he
could zip up the black nylon uniform dress he'd been issued. He
pinned on his name tag which read:
                          Robert Watson
                            Waitress
Dr. van Damme had put an end to his plan to change his name. Robert
he was, and Robert he would remain.

     "How did I ever let her talk me into a lifetime contract?" Bob
wondered, as he went off to his job in the executive dining room.
     
     Like his father before him, Bob worked his way up to the
position of personal maid to Dr. van Damme. Also like his dad,
Bob's mind and body were programmed with the sexual responses of a
promiscuous slut. Unlike his father though, no trace of the old Bob
remained. Oh he remembered who he had been, but not for minute did
he ever regret what had been done to him; rather he revelled in it.

     While Bob's body was rearranging itself, in line with her
long-range plans, Dr. van Damme also had Bob's subconscious mind
manipulated until he was the sweetest little submissive masochist
possible.

     Bob arose from bed and started getting ready for work. He had
been a bit irritable the day before, but hadn't thought much about
it. The feeling of extreme sensitivity persisted though, and his
moodiness had grown more intense overnight. Bob made a mental note
to see Dr Mason that afternoon and mention it to her.

     Bob was clearing away the remains of Dr. van Damme's lunch
when all of a sudden he felt a searing pain tear through his
abdomen. He dropped the tray he was carrying, grabbed his gut, and
gasped.

     "What's wrong Bob?" asked Dr. van Damme.

     "I don't know Doctor .. aaaaagh!" the pain was back and this
time it felt like his innards were being twisted like a rubber
band.

     She helped him along to the clinic.

     Bob lay naked on the examination table with his feet up in
stirrups as Dr. Mason conducted a pelvic exam. He still felt cramps
and discomfort, but not as severe since the shot he had been given
had taken effect. Bob felt whatever it was that the Doctor had
placed up inside him slip out. "What's the matter Doctor? Is it a
problem with my operation?"

     "No not at all Bob. It's just nature's way of telling you that
you're a woman now."

     "Pain?"

     "Yes and you'd better get used to it. Although I don't think
that it will be so severe in the future. it's just that you're new
plumbing is just flushing itself out, so to speak, for the first
time."

     "You mean this pain won't go away?"

     "No, it will go away, but it will be back every month like
clockwork. It's your period."

     "PERIOD! But I'm a transsexual."

     "So what?"

     "I thought that I wouldn't have periods and such things."

     "You wanted Dr. van Damme to make you into a woman didn't
you?"

     "Yes, but ..."

     "Well she did just that. You are now a fully functioning
female, and I emphasize the word fully. Welcome to the sorority. As
long as we are here in the clinic let me teach you some things you
need to know." Dr. Mason reached down and picked up a plastic
container.

     "Now then, this is foam ..."

     Back in his room Bob unpacked the bag of stuff Dr. Mason had
given him. Pills, tampons, panty liners, douche, foam, and two
dozen condoms. Bob was very conscious of the tampon up inside him,
but Dr. Mason had told him that soon he wouldn't even notice it.
Bob had been embarrassed by the condoms especially when Dr. Mason
had made him put one on a life size model of a penis, telling him
"it's a skill every girl needs to know."

     Bob told her, "but Dr. I'm not even interested in men." 

     Dr. Mason didn't say a word, but thought to herself "Just you
wait Robert, just you wait." 

     Dr van Damme read the letter from Monica. She and Gloria
Watson were steady lovers now, and had decided to move from the
city to an estate in the country. Joe was the perfect maid, but the
new mansion would be too much for him alone. Monica had let it slip
that Bob had stayed on the island and was working for the Doctor.
Gloria was tickled pink with the idea of having both of the men who
had been a threat to her, serving her as a matched pair of maids.

     Dr. van Damme summoned Bob to her office. He entered, dressed
in his standard uniform of white satin blouse and black taffeta
skirt. She ignored him for several moments, then told him, "Bob I'm
going away on a business trip. I was going to leave you here, but
have decided that I need you with me. Take that suitcase and this."

     She handed him a passport. " Get dressed in the clothing laid
out in my bedroom and meet me back here."

     Outside the Doctor's office, Bob looked at the passport. It
was French, inside was a picture of him as he looked now, but that
name; Yvonne LaEsclave. It was somehow familiar. Where had he heard
it before? Suspicion grew in the back of his mind, but was quickly
overshadowed by his excitement at going on a trip.

To be continued...
--