Becoming Joanne 1: Becoming Joanne, #1

By Lady Alexa

Joseph was not a good husband. He did not respect women, had a poor employment history and was constantly unfaithful to his long-suffering wife. When he came from work early drunk, sacked for punching his female boss and for having sex with a young employee, his wife Julie decided she'd finally had enough.

Julie enlisted the help of her best friend, Melissa, to help her transform Joseph. Melissa is a high-powered lawyer but also a professional Mistress. She decides the only way to teach Joseph a permanent lesson was to transform the aggressive Joseph into the submissive Joanne.

This story charts Melissa's transformation of Joseph and how Joseph becomes Joanne. This 34,000-word novel contains scenes of a sexual nature including reluctant male-to-female gender transformation, female domination, humiliation and forced sissyfication. Strictly for adults of age 18 plus or the age of maturity in your region if higher.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lady Alexa
• Release date: Jul 3, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223099901

Lady Alexa

I am an author and blogger on female led relationships, encouraged feminization and femdom and other erotica.

Book preview

Prologue

My name is Joanne and I'm a 45-year-old housewife. I also work part-time as an administrative assistant at a law firm in the city centre. I'm fairly tall but I'm also slim with long legs. My shoulders are a little too broad for my liking. I wasn't always as pretty as I am now.

I'm married to Julie and I have been for ten years. I was a different person when we got married. Thankfully, two women living together as wife and wife is no longer considered unusual. I have changed a lot over the past few months. Some of my own family and friends think I've changed too much. Julie wouldn't agree and says I'm like a beautiful butterfly who emerged into the daylight after years as an ugly caterpillar.

Julie is in charge in our marriage although that wasn’t always the case. You could say she wears the trousers in our relationship. Sometimes in reality and always metaphorically. She doesn't permit me to wear trousers ever in any sense of the meaning. Julie doesn't do housework, laundry or cooking: that is all my responsibility. She chooses my clothing and insists I wear mini skirts and dresses with high heels. She says she loves me to look pretty and feminine. If it’s a little chilly, she lets me wear stockings.

My fingernails are long and coloured with bright pink shellac. I keep them this way thanks to regular attendances at the local nail bar. My make-up is perfect; I've learnt how to apply it myself. My hair is peroxide blond and shoulder-length. It curls up at the ends. Julie accompanies me to the hairdresser every week to make sure it’s always pretty. We do lots of girl things together nowadays; it wasn’t always like that.  My fringe curls under and touches my top eyelashes which makes me blink at times. Julie says my blinking makes me look cute and innocent, which I'm not. Not innocent that is but definitely cute.

I wear a C-cup bra but, as I'm flat-chested, I have to wear breast forms. Julie says she is going to pay for an operation to have breast implants inserted so that I can have real breasts. She's considering a D-cup: I'm not keen. Julie says it doesn't matter what I think as this is what's going to happen. She says it's not my fault that nature neglected to give me large tits so she's going to rectify the situation.

I have something extra in my panties that most girls don't have. Julie calls it a clitty and insists I shave it clean of any hair except a neat triangle of pubic hair above it. It also has a Prince Albert piercing with a cat's bell attached. She likes to play with my clitty sometimes, making the bell tinkle. Mostly it's locked away in a small cage and she keeps the key around her neck. My days of using it are far behind me. I used it far too much which was one of the problems.

My name is Joanne and I used to be called Joseph. My wife Julie became unhappy with my behaviour so she arranged for her best friend Melissa to fix me.

This is part one of my story. There’s a lot to tell.

1 The Mistress Party

The slim man wore a short white French maid’s dress and served food to the ladies from a white porcelain plate. He curtsied, exposing a small pink chastity cage below the hem of his short dress hem. A glimpse of a trimmed black triangle of pubic hair flashed before he stood again.

A second sissy maid held out a white napkin, his long nails stood out like stark beacons of pink. He shook long waving blond hair from his eyes and his earrings jangled. Melissa took the napkin and spread it over her sheer black stockings. The maid waited, he swayed, balanced on the balls of his feet in stilt-like black-patent stilettos.

Melissa dismissed him with a cursory wave of her hand. He curtsied and lost his balance. He fell onto one knee and toppled onto his back, his bright red dress flew up around his waist. His legs fell apart and smooth shaved balls protruded from behind a pink plastic chastity cage. They hung loose over a luminous green silicone butt plug.

Melissa screwed her face up in a tight grimace. Careless girl, I don't want to see your silly little pussy balls while I’m eating.

The five other male maids froze in worry. They wore identical frilly French-maid dresses. Each in different colours: pink, white, light blue, yellow and purple.

I'll deal with it, Mel. Aretta stood and pulled the maid to his feet by an ear. Her fingers grasped it through his luxuriant blond hair. He wobbled on his heels once more, fear written in his wide eyes. This was the first time he’d worn six-inch heels. He should have practised.

Aretta stood proud for a moment. She was clad in an all-in-one black leather jumpsuit that clung to her body. Her black straight hair fell to broad muscular shoulders and bare arms that had seen years of heavy bicep curls. For a moment her deep blue eyes sparkled from a wide chiselled dark-skinned face.

Aretta pushed his head down, her hand hard against his neck. His uncovered bottom was exposed beneath his tutu-like maid's dress. A butt plug showed firm against his anus. A blur of dark skin and red fingernails slapped onto his bottom cheeks. They streaked like the trails of fireworks in the air.

You are a stupid girl, Aretta called out as her slaps rained onto his bottom. Melissa shook her head in disappointment at the maid as she took a sip of white wine from her glass. She expected better from them but sissies always failed her expectations.

Aretta pulled the maid up again from the back of his blond hair and tugged his head. She pointed at the corner of the large dining area. A long red-taloned finger. He knew what to do. He tottered to the corner like a tightrope walker. He faced the wall, head down. He put his hands on his head and his tight maid's dress rose to his stomach. The flange of his butt plug was a soothing shade of luminous green against his red swollen bottom cheeks.

Aretta stood next to her friend at the table and surveyed her assembled guests. Melissa, her new firm friend, looked serene. Amanda, Melissa's daughter, bounced on her seat with excitement at what she had witnessed. Amanda was the product of a relationship with an older man over eighteen years ago.

Julie was Melissa’s best friend and her mouth opened in shock. She put up a delicate hand to her face. Next to Julie was Nina, Melissa's partner at her law firm, impassive and aloof. To Aretta's right sat Susan, Melissa's younger sister. Next to Susan, sat Imogen, a tall athletic ex-army officer. A glint of hard steel reflected in her eyes. Opposite her, Mandy, a blond lady dressed in pink with bright red  lipstick and a high voice that pierced through the general conversation.

Aretta coughed to attract their attention then tapped her empty wine glass with a teaspoon. Ladies. Thank you for coming to Melissa's thirty-eighth birthday celebration. Please raise your glasses. Happy birthday, Melissa; may you have many more years of wealth, happiness and male subjugation.

The guests tittered as Aretta bent down and kissed Melissa full on her mouth. She lingered longer than was necessary for the short peck of a platonic friend. Everyone called out, Happy birthday, out of sequence. They began to eat. Chatter, laughter and the sounds of cutlery on china rose as the maids topped up wine and water glasses and fussed around the table.

Melissa Stone pulled on the hem of her short tight red dress. It wouldn’t do for the sissies to see her panties. At the office, she was the consummate professional, knee-length business skirts and jackets. When out socially, she preferred something far more sexy and alluring. Her dress clung to her muscular body like a second skin, rolling over strong 40C breasts. Her low-cut front exposed a deep cleavage. Two thin black suspender straps showed below the dress hem and were attached to patterned black stockings. She still had it at thirty-eight and she knew it.

Melissa was pensive that night, in a good way. She reflected that she had become a successful millionaire businesswoman and lawyer. No one who didn't know her well would have guessed at her humble beginnings. She came from a poor district and lived with an abusive, alcoholic father and a drug-dependent mother.

She changed her name from Mary Cullen to the more impressive middle-class-sounding Melissa Stone some twenty years ago. She had won a scholarship from a bad school to a top university and gained a first-class honours degree in law. There was nothing working class about her now. She sat at the head of her enormous dining room table in her six-bedroom home in the most exclusive part of the city. She had arrived and it was no thanks to any men.

Aretta had organised the birthday meal for her and arranged for the sissy maids to attend. Melissa discovered femdom and forced feminisation many years ago. It was her revenge on all those males who had tried to stand in her way. Feminisation was the cure for the malady that was masculinity in her mind. As the ladies chatted and the maids fussed, Melissa wondered what entertainment Aretta had lined up for her. Aretta had promised a fun interactive show for her. She guessed it would be something femdom, hence the number of feminised maids in attendance.

The meal finished and the maids cleared up. Aretta barked her orders at them, hurrying them up. Their next role was the evening entertainment, as Melissa had expected and hoped for. Melissa watched Aretta with amusement. Aretta was a natural leader and dominant woman. An alpha-plus woman. Julie interrupted her thoughts with a tap on the arm.

Can I have a quick word please, Mel?