Chris arched her back and looked into the camera. The zebra print fur beneath her naked ass and shoulders was soft and warm.

The camera whirred and she moved slightly, posing herself with the ease of a practised professional. The hot spotlights lit her chest.

Chris saw her pregnant wife enviously eye her firm 38D tits. She was proud of her gorgeous feminine body and worked hard to maintain it. She had to. As a professional porn star her livelihood depended on it.

ONE YEAR EARLIER ...

"This is a disaster," Chris said over and over as his wife Barbie drove home from the read ing of his grandmother's will. He could tell Barbie was sick of hearing him whine but couldn't help it. This really was a disaster!

Chris' grandmother had invested a half million dollars in steamyfantasy.com, a porn website started by Chris and his twin sister Christie. The only hitch was that the old bag took 80% of the ownership of the business in return for her investment. Christie and Chris each had a 10% stake in the company.

The site had an excellent reputation for presenting pictures of only beautiful and "unusual" women. As a result, it was wildly profitable.

How did a dweebish guy like Chris get into the adult website business? He was brought into it by his twin sister. Although twins, Chris and Christie were certainly not identical. Christie has huge boobs, pouty lips and a great butt. Chris is a short, scrawny girly little man. Christie also got all the personality. If they didn't look quite a bit alike (except for her full set of curves) Chris w ould think he was adopted. Christie posed nude for a men's magazine when she was 18, and she decided to start the website the next year. Christie liked having her brother around so she let him be her partner. He kept the books and did the paper work.

Chris met Barbie a year earlier, when she was a secretary for the company. When he told her how much money the business made she decided she would be his wife. Which was okay with Chris, since Barbie is gorgeous and he never had luck with women.

Barbie is a short, cute blonde with a very fine rack for a girl her size. Christie constantly tried to convince Barbie to pose for the website, but she refused. She wanted to marry rich, not become an "adult" model. So she pinned her future on Chris and hoped for the best.

Barbie was getting mad. Her plans were ruined. All because Chris' grandmother hated him. She'd often called him a scared mouse and treated him with disdain. She'd left all her stock in the company to Christie. And if Christie couldn't inherit, for whatever reason, the stock went to their cousin John!

Christie wasn't around to inherit. She ran away with a motorcycle gang almost 9 months earlier and nobody had heard from her since. If she didn't appear in the next 30 days, the inheritance would go to John.

Chris was left with a measly 10% of the company, and John would probably fire him as soon as he took over! John shared Chris' grandmother's low opinion of Chris.

Barbie turned in her seat and punched Chris in the arm. "Hey! What was that for?" he shouted.

"Why couldn't you be your grandmother's favorite?" she asked furiously. "Look what it's cost you!" Chris didn't say anything. In fact he started to cry.

Barbie and Chris arrived at the townhouse they shared with Christie. Chris got some ice tea and brought her a glass. She was staring at him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked.

"I have an idea," she calmly stated.

Chris didn't like the look in her eyes. "You're Christie's twin, right?"

"Of course."

"You can become Christie and take control of the company!"

"Barbie," Chris gasped, "are you nuts? I'm not Christie's identical twin!"

She glared at him. "The only noticeable differences between you and Christie are her big boobs, fat lips and that great ass of hers. All those things can be easily fixed."

"No way!" Chris said as he tried to step past her. She pushed him up against the wall.

"Are you ready to walk away from millions of dollars? I'm not!" She leaned forward and rubbed her nipples against his lips. "Besides," she whispered in his ear, "you'd make a very sexy Christie."

Barbie reached over to feel of Chris' damp hair. "Sit down on that chair by the table and I'll get my hair care tray." Chris wanted to take his wife to bed, but Barbie insisted that he let try her idea.

"No way this will work," Chris complained.

"Just shut up, honey. If it doesn't work it 's no big deal. But if it does, we're rich!" Barbie returned with a large tray and a basket full of bottles, pink curlers, pins, hair clips, combs and brushes.

Barbie sat on the side of the bed and began rolling Chris' hair up onto the large pink rollers. At first, he protested, but was quiet after Barbie got mad at him again. Barbie rolled each strand of Chris' hair onto a roller, wound tightly and pinned in place. When Barbie picked up a spray bottle and began to saturate Chris' rolled hair with a strange smelling chemical, she told him that it was just conditioner. Chris sat quietly.

Barbie rolled the last of her husband's hair onto the rollers. He stood up and walked, unsteadily, to the bathroom to relieve his bladder. He closed the door and caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror. His long hair was rolled on the large pink rollers. He had been called a pretty boy when he was in high school. Now, he realized just how feminine his face appeared to be. His flat chest was the main reminder that he was not a woman.

Barbie had Chris sit down again as she blow-dried his hair. She smiled mischievously as she worked on her husband's hair. Barbie began unrolling the coiled locks, leaving them in large curls of brunette tresses. She picked up a brush and, after only a couple of minutes of stroking his hair, stepped back and smiled.

Barbie was amazed at the change that permanent wave solution, rollers, a blow dryer and a little effort had made in her husband's appearance. She had been attracted to him because he was so very cute, but she had never imagined that he could be so attractively feminine. She knew that with a little make up, he would be very pretty. She was almost jealous of her husband's natural beauty.

Barbie led Chris to the master bathroom where he was given a bubble bath with scented bath oils. Then, he was completely shaven, except for the hair on his head, his eye brows and a neatly trimmed triangula r patch of pubic hair. Afterwards, a perfumed lotion was rubbed into his skin to soften it even more. His penis was embarrassingly erect.

Barbie had him sit in a chair while she plucked his eyebrows. He jumped the first few times she pulled out a hair, but managed to sit still for the rest after Barbie made fun of the way he acted like a baby. When Barbie was through shaping her husband's eyebrows, she began applying fake fingernails. Chris' fingernails extended over half of an inch past the ends of his fingers when she finished glueing the acrylic nails in place. She painted the long fingernails a bright red then shaped his toenails and painted them the same color. Barbie made the statement that women loved to have long nails to scratch a man's back while he made love to her. Chris blushed as he looked at the long red nails.

Barbie opened her case of cosmetics and began working on her now cooperative husband. She explained how to apply the cosmetics as she put on a foundation cream, brushed on a corn silk powder, blush, eye shadow, eye liner, used an eye brow pencil, mascara and bright red lipstick. Barbie sat in awe as she saw Chris transformed into Christie.

Chris looked at his young wife. She held some of Christie's lingerie out for him. Surely, she did not want her husband to wear panties and other women's clothes. She answered his question when she said, "Chris, give it a try for a day or two. I think it would be fun." Chris blushed. "Please do it for me." Chris lowered his eyes as he nodded his head.

Chris was given a pair of pink silk bikini panties to wear. He had to push his erection to the side in order to fit it in his panties. Barbie selected a pink silk brassiere that matched his panties. She hooked the clasp in back. Chris looked down to see the empty cups hanging loosely. Barbie went to a dresser drawer and returned with two boxes. She opened one and pulled out a silicon-filled breast form. She slipped it into one cup, opened the remaining box, retrieved another form and filled the other bra c up as well. "Where did those come from?" Chris asked.

"One of the models bought them before she got a boob job. She wanted to try the look for a few days first," Barbie answered. Chris sensed the shoulder straps of the brassiere tugging downward as the weight of the artificial breasts were felt on his chest.

Barbie gave Chris a pair of cinnamon colored thigh high stockings and instructed him on the proper way to put them on. He gathered them on his fingers and pulled them over his relatively small feet and up his nicely shaped legs. They ended most of the way up his thigh, leaving a few inches of smooth bare white flesh exposed between the elastic tops of his cinnamon colored stockings and his pink silk bikini panties. He noticed that his red toenails were visible through the nylon.

Three-inch heels were strapped to his ankles. Barbie had to stand at his side as he stood up on high heels for the first time to provide additional support. Together, they walke d around the bedroom for a few minutes as Chris learned to balance himself. He found that if he pretended that he was walking on his tip-toes, he could balance. Barbie sat down as she had Chris walk back and forth a few times.

Barbie was amazed that the plan was progressing so well. Walking on high heels forced Chris to stick out his cute silk covered butt and wiggle it seductively. She wanted to push her pretty husband onto the bed and screw his brains out. Just as she was about to tackle him, Chris picked up a pink silk blouse and put it on.

Chris found it strange to button the blouse because the buttons were on the wrong side. Next, an above the knee length red skirt was slid up over Chris' nylon covered legs and zippered in back. A few more minutes were spent in teaching Chris how to walk, sit, stand, get up and sit down in a ladylike manner.

Barbie told Chris how pretty he looked. He stood in front of the full length mirror for over five minutes as he turned from side to side, looking over his shoulder, smiling, frowning, winking, and making every facial expression that he had ever seen a woman make. He was startled at the image in the mirror and how much he now looked like his sister.

"Oh, my God," Chris whispered, "this may actually work."

Barbie hugged her femininely attired husband and told him how much she loved him. She kissed his cheek as their breasts were pressed together. Chris was wearing high heel shoes and she wasn't, therefore, she had to stretch to kiss his ruby red painted lips. Chris asked her not to smear his lipstick.

They stared into the mirror for a few minutes as Chris turned this way and that, admiring himself.

"It's not good enough," Barbie stated in a flat, sad voice.

"What? Why not?" Chris demanded.

"Chris," Barbie explained, "you're cute, but Christie is a knockout. Your lips are too small, your skin is too rough, I can see a little of your beard, your b utt is too flat, those breast forms don't quite move like real boobs and Christie always shows a little cleavage."

Chris got a disappointed look on his face and said, "shit."

Barbie hugged him from behind. "Honey," she breathed in his ear, "if you're willing, I know someone who can help."

"I don't want to see any doctor."

Chris was balking at the office's front door. Barbie sensed he was ready to bolt so she soothed him. "Chris, please be practical. I'm sensitive to your concerns. No real man wants to impersonate a woman. Certainly not as realistically as you'll have to, but this is an emergency."

"Barbie, can't we do something less extreme?"

"There are no magic spells or potions. There's just hormones, electrolysis, and plastic surgery, and they don't work overnight."

Chris sighed. "I hope we have enough time."

Chris was laying on a table. A bright spotlight focused on his chest. Barbie and the doctor were talking but his head was spinning. What were they saying?

Chris was given an injection to sedate him. He was laid out on the operating table and strapped down. Eight hypodermic syringes with rather large needles were laid in a row on the sterile tray. A large jar of thick white viscous fluid was retrieved from the locked storeroom refrigerator. A tray of antiseptic gauss was set on the roll around cart. An IV was inserted in his vein.

The doctor washed up as a nurse coated Chris' body parts with disinfectant. The procedure was really very simple. Since so many women wanted lipo-suction to remove unwanted fat, the doctor had discovered that the fat cells could be dehydrated, then injected into another part of the body where they could be rehydrated with a special solution in the IV bottle. The cells would be accepted by the body where they were injected.

The doc started with Chris' chest. Two pounds of dehydrated fat cells were injected in a pattern of concentric circles around each nipple. After they were rehydrated, Chri s would have about ten pounds of breasts. An ounce and a half injected in his lips to make them fuller and softer to kiss. The IV was started using a few special chemical additives in a glucose solution. The fat cells would be rehydrated before the sedative wore off. Chris would wake up with a meaty pair of tits.

Chris was rolled over and a couple of pounds of dehydrated fat injected in a pattern designed to make his bottom as shapely as any woman's. He was rolled back over and two small incisions were made at each side of his already narrow waist. A lipo-suction needle stroked in and out many times to remove fat cells residing there. The small incisions were taped so that the scars would be unnoticeable. A quick procedure was performed to raise the pitch of Chris' voice to a more feminine level and to scrape down his adam's apple.

Barbie was pleased to see that Chris' breasts were already a B cup and growing. A special breast-shaping bra was strapped around his ch est until the fat cells permanently linked up. A pair of tight shorts with loose bottom and side pockets to make sure that the fat cells collected and formed in the correct anatomical locations were slid up Chris' unconscious body. A mixture of female hormones and testosterone suppressant was injected directly into the IV that was supplying the fluids for the dehydrated fat cells.

By the next day, after the fat cells had set up, the surgical training brassiere and shaping pants could be removed.

Chris woke up in his own bed. Sunlight streamed through the open window. He felt happy and peaceful. His mind was drifting on clouds of bliss. Objectively, he knew he was drugged, but he didn't care. Chris smiled and made a contented murmuring sound.

He slowly sat upright and that's when he felt a big weight shift on his chest. He glanced down and saw two huge tits.

"Good morning, Christie," Barbie said.

Staring back at him from the mirror was his sister Christie, an absolute knockout brunette. He knew, objectively, that it was himself staring back from the mirror, but the illusion was so perfect -- the Christie in the mirror was so real! Chris was feeling a sense of . . . disconnection . . . looking at this reflected vision. He raised his right arm . . . she raised her's. He dropped his arm . . . she dropped her's and her breasts jiggled in the most erotic fashion.

A sly little smile curled her luscious lips. With a toss of her head, she flipped the long hair off her shoulder. Then, making a pouting little moue' with her mouth, she reached up and cradled her left breast in her left hand, the nipple peeking out between her middle fingers, her right hand twined in the hair over her right ear. As she continued to fondle that ripe, exquisite bosom, the moue' shifted into a pleading "take me now" expression. And it was Chris doing it! He consciously executed each of the actions, believing that in doing so, he'd break the illusion. He didn't know how to display a "take me now" expression. Or he thought he didn't. He just did what he thought Christie would do. On this stunning face it was hot beyond belief. He giggled happily.

He had his own personal "live sex show"! Anything he wanted, this beautiful, sexy woman would do . . . no embarrassment . . . no questions asked. For his enjoyment, she shook her shoulders setting her breasts into the most delicious motion. Then, closing her eyes in anticipation, (well, slitting her eyes so he could still enjoy the show), she again caressed her delicious breasts. Approaching a fabricated climax, she opened her eyes and stretched out her left hand to him, her face urgent with counterfeit need. Then he laughed again and Barbie laughed with him.

Barbie turned him to face her and grabbed his cock in her hand. "I'm glad you can enjoy this, Christie. We're going to be rich, lover girl." Her hands moved to his boobs and her th umbs rubbed his nipples. Then her head dipped down and sucked the little tips of his abundant new knockers.

A half hour later Chris was flat on his back in bed. Exhausted. Barbie was on top of him, squeezing the last bit of life from his deflating cock. Her body was still trembling from the after shocks of her last orgasm.

"That was the best orgasm I've ever had," Barbie whispered in his ear. "I think I'm really going to like you Christie."

It was certainly the best orgasm he'd ever had. Barbie took a syringe from the bedside table and gave him a refill of the happy drugs. In moments he was asleep.

"Christie, look at me," Barbie commanded. Chris smiled and gazed into her pretty green eyes. "Soon you're going to inherit the company and we're going to be rich. And you'll have lots of chances to be my little she-male sex slave. Does that make you happy?" Her hand stroked his cock.

Happy? Yes, he was happy. The drug s made his mind a giddy fog, and the sex was so good. "Umm, yes," he purred with his sexy new voice, "I'm very happy, Barbie."

"Barbie, I can't get this thing on right. Can you come in here please?" Chris struggled with his pale satin corset, looking at it like it came form Mars.

"Here, Christie, let me help you." Having Chris stand up straight, Barbie tugged at the outrageous outfit and finished lacing it up in back. Barbie stepped away and let Chris look into the mirror.

His breasts jutted forward like twin melons. "That can't be right. These tits are about to leap right out of here."

Barbie ignored his complaint. "Did you take your pills?"

Chris kept squirming but couldn't get his tits covered. "Yeah, I took them. Do you think it's safe to take so much?" The doctor recommended 500 mg of hormones a day, but Barbie h ad Chris on 5500 mg.

"We need quick results, Honey," Barbie said as she caressed his ass, "so more is better."

Chris stood balancing precariously on five-inch heels. His pencil slim, black leather hobble skirt barely allowed him to take a step.

The corset crushed his waist from twenty-two inches to a numbing eighteen. A wide belt accented his tiny waist and a black angora sweater - a size too small - flaunted the firm mountains of his breasts.

"Walk back over here, Christie."

"I can't. My feet hurt too much!"

Barbie flicked her riding crop over her feminized husband's leather-bound rump and sent him mincing forward. They had been at it for days, working up through increasing heel heights and ever-tighter skirts.

"Barbie, why do I have to keep dressing this way?"

"Chris, let's not argue this again. I told you that a tight skirt will help you get a female sway to your hips when you walk and the corset will give you a nice waist. But you've been a good sport so I'll let you take off the leather skirt and you can wear something in a knit. It'll be a lot more comfortable."

"And the corset and the rest of it?," Chris asked hopefully.

"That'll have to stay for the moment." Crestfallen, Chris began to unzip his skirt.

Chris now measured 36C-22-34, and he was still developing.

They were riding back from the store. Barbie had picked pink leather hot-pants and a pink halter top for herself. Chris had insisted on a quiet, dark brown two-piece suit.

"Do you think that they'll really give us the inheritance? I want to stop being a girl."

"I don't know. I hope so. You've been so good, Honey. The way you sacrificed to do all this, no man would do what you've done."

Chris swelled up under the flattery, not noticing the ironic tone in Barbie's voice.

Barbie looked at him with a hard glint in her eyes. "Christie, you know you can't stop being a girl right after you get the money. Your cousin John will kn ow we tricked him!"

"Yeah. I guess." Chris pouted.

Minutes later, Chris and Barbie were at work, and were about to change clothes to go see the Judge. "Chris," Barbie said, "I think we need to celebrate. You'll never have to wear that corset or hobble skirt again!" Chris quickly pulled off the restrictive and uncomfortable clothes and stood naked in front of his wife.

"How should we celebrate?" Chris grinned as he reached for Barbie.

"No time for that," Barbie answered as she stepped away from him. She scooped up the clothes he'd just removed and headed out the door. "Put on your new suit while I throw these down the trash chute!"

Chris opened their bag from the store, then quickly rummaged through the contents over and over. With a frightened look appeared on his face Chris yelled, "Barbie! Wait! Don't throw that stuff away!"

Barbie appeared in the doorway, "Too late. All gone. What's wrong?"

"My suit isn't here! Just two pairs of hot pants and tops! You have to get my clothes back out of the trash!"

Instead of a conservative suit, Chris would have to wear pink leather hot-pants and top to the big meeting.

"Do we have time to go back to the store or home?" He knew the answer before he asked. They had to be in the judge's office in a few minutes. It was hopeless. Before Barbie could answer, Chris picked up the tiny garments and held them to his chest in front of the mirror.

"I won't look too bad, will I?"

Barbie was very good - she didn't laugh or anything - as she assured her red-faced, panty-clad husband that he would look just fine.

"Sit still, Christi e," Barbie murmured, worried that her husband was so nervous he would ruin the plan. They were seating in the Judge's office, but she hadn't arrived.

Everyone on the street had stared at the two beautiful women dressed in skimpy leather as they walked to the courthouse. Many men made rude comments and some had laughed. Chris wanted to die of shame but Barbie happily blew kisses and shook her cute butt.

Chris' feet fidgeted in his four-inch, pink heels and his distractingly full and firm breasts threatening to burst the straining halter top. Chris was getting ever more anxious.

"Why isn't the Judge here yet? Do you think she suspects something? She knows! I'm sure of it. I bet they're just keeping us here until the police arrive."

Chris' voice kept rising as his face grew flushed. Barbie had read the pharmaceutical leaflet that had accompanied the hormones -- there was a noticeable occurrence of emotional upset, including paranoia, hysteria, and anxiety. Chris was having his first 'hissie'.

"Christie, the lady said she was running behind. She's just lat e. Now, I want you to have a big smile on that painted face of yours and let those big fat titties of yours fool old Judge Jamison into giving us all our money, okay?"

Shamefaced, Chris nodded. With a little shriek, Chris jumped when the door suddenly opened. A tall, obese woman with short greasy, unkempt hair came in and sat at the end of the table without introducing herself to the two waiting 'women'.

The Judge glared at Chris' huge boobs for a moment, then said, "My name is Meredith Jamison and I'm the Judge in this inheritance case. I have the papers you'll have to sign Ms. Masters."

Stunned at the simplicity of it all, Chris read the papers the Judge handed him.

"Please sign in all four places, Ms. Masters and sign the affidavit as well." Christie signed for and took the check and began to read the formal, legal-looking document.

"Barbie, should I sign this?"

"What does it say?"

"It says that I, Christie Masters, swear under oath that I am a twenty-four year old female citizen of the United States. That I am authorized to sign for the checks from the inheritance and that all of my statements made to receive the money are true."

"Well sure, Christie, you have to sign that. It's all true anyway."

"I'm going to have to insist that you sign it from the point of view of the State, Ms. Masters," Judge Jamison added.

Chris signed the affidavit as well and quietly sat, waiting for the ordeal of the meeting to end.

"That concludes my business with you. Sorry to cut this off so suddenly, but I have four more of these conferences to get to today."

Chris tried to speak but Barbie cut her husband off. On the street, Chris stood by the side of the courthouse and started to cry.

"Now, what's the matter, Christie?" Barbie asked, unable to hide the exasperation in her voice.

"When I stop being a girl they're going to throw me in jail for fraud!"

Chr is was getting worked up again but Barbie let him go. In fact, it was interesting, the way the flush on his face was spreading down to his big jiggling breasts.

"I'll have to keep dressing like a girl for years! I'll just die if I have to do that."

"Christie, honey," Barbie cooed as she hugged her feminine husband, "we're rich! All because of how well you carried out our plan. Let's not mess it up now. Besides, I've been a girl all my life; it's not so bad." She kissed him on the cheek and suggested, "Why don't you go shopping while I check in at work? I'll pick you up later."

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