Anal Queen

"You like?" Amanda asked.

I turned to face her.

"Honey," I said, "I'm feeling all woman."

Amanda laughed.

"Good for you, baby," she said. "Let's do your lipstick."

I parted my lips as Amanda laid on the red lipstick thicker than a Vegas showgirl's. Then she sprayed my tits with perfume.

"OK," Amanda said, "Stand up and let's have a look at you."

I gazed at myself in the mirror. Amanda had done an amazing job. While I'd never pass for a woman, I felt sexy as hell. My fears of turning fag had melted away. Maybe I was homo. But I didn't care anymore.

Amanda pressed her tits against my back and put her hands on my hips. She slowly slid her hands up my sides to my tits. Goosebumps popped on my forearms as her fingers pinched my nipples. My cock swelled. My legs wobbled.

"That's my girl," Amanda whispered. "Now, I want you to free your mind."

Her breath tickled my neck. I closed my eyes.

"Your name isn't Steve anymore, is it?" Amanda said.

I shook my head.

"Good," she said. "You're a woman now. You need a new name. Look within and tell me who you really are."

Her fingers worked my nipples as I searched my mind. The name came out of nowhere almost instantly. I could barely stand or speak, so the word passed my lips in a barely audible whisper.

"Janet," I said.

"That's a very sexy name for a very sexy woman," Amanda said. "I'm glad to have you as my girlfriend. Now come with me into the bedroom. I want you to put on a fashion show."

She took me by the hand and led me down the hall to the bedroom. About two dozen candles bathed the room in a warm glow. Amanda opened the top drawer of her nightstand and pulled out a digital camera. She aimed the lens at me.

"Do what comes naturally, honey," she said.

I put my hands on my waist and cocked my hips to one side. The camera flashed.