When he replied to my ad online, Steven said he was an attractive, 30-something, successful white man who was willing to explore the wild side. When we met in person, I was more than a little bit disappointed. Attractive was a stretch of the imagination and I told him so right off the bat. He acted as if I'd said something to offend him and responded by saying, "Well, no one's ever told me that I was unattractive." When I suggested that was because no one had had the occasion to be brutally honest with him, he got visibly pissed off and blurted out, "Well, my mom thinks..." and caught himself before he said something that made him look like a total, pathetic loser.

Truth be told, Steven wasn't gruesome; he was merely average. Average for a white boy unfortunately is just shy of ugly. Thin lips, pasty skin, thinning hair, non-descript features, he was nothing to write home about. I had plans to change that. The ad to which he replied was a proposition to completely transform a white boy into a sexy, desirable, cross-dressing, sissy, and insatiable, cum-crazed whore for black cock. I didn't pull any punches and he knew what he was in for so there was no reason to play games. I didn't have much to work with from the beginning but at least he wasn't fat and out of shape. I'd had less to work with in the past so he wasn't my greatest challenge.

I took him back to my loft and told him to strip. He'd lied in his response by saying that his cock was just a little over 6 inches. I made him stand in the center of the room, completely naked, and I sensually stroked his cock for less than a minute until he was whimpering and biting his lip, trying to keep from cumming. I took out my ruler and placed it at the base of his cock and told him to tell me EXACTLY how much his worthless, pathetic cock actually measured. He mumbled something incoherent.

"Listen you little worm. I said TELL ME HOW MUCH YOUR LITTLE CLITTY REALLY MEASURES." His face became reddened and he looked angry and broken at the same time. I continued to stroke his cock and I could tell that he was on the verge of shooting his load. Tears were forming in his eyes.

"Five," he whispered, almost inaudibly, choking back the tears.

It wasn't even a full five inches but I'd accomplished my mission. He was humiliated. "You can't expect to please a woman with that. That's pathetic. You have no choice, you have to be transformed into a cross-dressing, sissy whore so you'll never have to annoy women with your worthless attempt at fucking again. I'm going to make sure your pussy is your only source of sexual satisfaction. I'm going to turn you into a woman, the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you move, the very way you think is going to be that of a woman. You will be a lady in the streets and a filthy, nasty, cum dump in the sheets. Your pussy will throb and get so horny you will actually think it's getting wet and you will be desperate to get fucked by the biggest, blackest, hardest pricks you can find. He moaned out loud as his cum dribbled from his cock, barely enough to be considered a spurt, let alone a blast.

Over the next three months, I trained him. I caged his cock in a chastity device and he was denied the right to cum. I had his body waxed and he was as smooth as silk. Lessons consisted of teaching him how to walk like a woman, how to hold his hands, and how to cross his legs and be sophisticated in public. I also trained him in ways to drive a man crazy by spreading his legs wide and begging for hard dick in his slutty cunt in private.

He was a very good student. I could see the changes taking place before my very eyes. When he did well, I would reward him by strapping on a 10 inch black dildo and fucking him while he looked at pictures of gorgeous Black men with enormous cocks and he told me out loud how much he lived to worship them. For punishment, when he would do something wrong, or simply for my amusement, I would wrap my hands around his neck and choke him, telling him that I was going to make him suck off a white man if he didn't learn to behave. Cutting off his air supply, I would tell him that white men were arrogant, repulsive, ignorant assholes and that if he didn't do as I told him, I was going to make him put their nasty, pitiful small cocks in his mouth until they came and that he would never earn the right to suck off a Black man's gorgeous, manly cock. Just as he was about to pass out, I would release my grip and he would cry like a baby hysterically on the floor, begging me never to make him do something so disgusting, confessing that he hated white men and never wanted to touch them or be touched by them.

At four months, he was passable enough that we could go out shopping together as girls, and he was already turning heads of men and didn't even realize it. Even in his regular clothes, he was becoming feminine; he spoke with a gentle demeanor, and showed none of the signs of arrogance of when we first met. He was an expert at applying his makeup and the expensive wigs we purchased for him looked 100% real. He learned quickly to point out cheap and trashy cross dressers and their lame attempts to get off by shocking unsuspecting sales clerks in lingerie stores. We shopped in expensive boutiques and he had quite a collection of heels, stockings, lingerie, and dresses.

Orgasm denial was taking a toll on him because it was month five when he began to beg for release, to practice his newly learned deep-throating skills on a real cock. He endured the discomfort of saline injections to increase his bust size and he marveled at the way his new, full tits looked in his lacy bras, bustiers, and corsets. He especially loved when I would apply nipple clamps and twist and pull his nipples while calling him a filthy white whore. Previously a work-a-holic, wearing men's clothing felt unnatural to him and now he would find excuses to work from home or leave work early so he could get home and put on his satin and silk and feel like his true self. He would beg me to let him eat my pussy, but I told him he wasn't allowed because he could only have superior black cocks in his mouth. Steven the male was no longer; he was a distant memory. Stacy was born anew, a woman in every sense of the word.

I planned Stacy's coming out party for exactly six months from the day we met. I had to admit, she was gorgeous. Even I didn't think she was capable of such an extreme makeover. That average looking white boy I met so long ago was now a stunning, beautiful white woman whose smoky seductive eyes could captivate, whose collagen-enriched, full lips were inviting to the hardest of cocks, and whose hips swayed sensually when she gracefully walked in her expensive stilettos. There wasn't a detail I left to chance. Her hands were perfectly manicured, not with garish fake claws but with an elegant clear polish. She wore a simple diamond band on the ring finger of her left hand, not as a symbol of our marriage, but as a symbol of her devotion to me for allowing her to become the cum hungry whore who dwelt inside her.

I'd invited four of the most hung Black men I knew to her party. They'd been to a couple of my events before and they knew the deal. They were to treat the slut as harsh and as rough as they could as long as she didn't utter her safe word. I'd kept the party attendees a secret, Stacy didn't know how many or who, she just knew that her asspussy was going to be truly satisfied for the first time in her life.

Stacy sat at her dressing table, applying the last little bit of her makeup, her hands shaking. She looked at me through the mirror and said softly, "Thank you. I feel like I've been freed from a prison of lies and masquerading. It makes me sick to think of what I used to be. I know that I'm supposed to be a white bitch for black cocks now, I know that I was born to be a sissy slut."

Tears were forming in her eyes and I stopped her. "Stop with the waterworks sweetie, you'll ruin your makeup. Just go out there and make me proud." She stood up and I made her turn around for me. She was breathtaking. I applied pressure to her shoulder and she bent forward for me without me having to ask. I pulled up the hem of her skirt and bared her pussy. I'd inserted a large, black butt plug in her earlier in the day and I pulled it out as it made a lewd and nasty plopping sound as Stacy moaned and wiggled her ass at the empty feeling. Her cunt was tight and ready. I wiped the excess lube away and finally handed her the key to the chastity device.

"Here, you do it for me, please. I can't ... I'm ... You were right all along. My clitty is worthless and I should be ashamed I ever tried to use it..." I freed her from her restraints, stroked it softly, and her clit engorged to its full length immediately, harder, thicker, and longer than it'd ever been. I turned her towards the full-length mirror and pulled her skirt up in front of her. We both giggled at the obscene image of this strikingly beautiful woman with an oversized clit staring back at us. She pulled on a pair of sexy French-cut, lace panties and tucked her clit away as she took a deep breath and emerged for her debut as a dirty, white, pain-pig, tramp.

The reactions of everyone were just as I'd hoped. The fellas almost couldn't believe that Stacy wasn't a real woman. They kept looking at her and whispering to each other. Dante pulled me to the side and asked me if I wasn't trying to play some sort of game on them because there was no way that could really be a dude. Stacy was disappointed and deservingly so. She wanted more than four men to use and abuse her body. She'd learned to take two oversized dildos in her asscunt at the same time. She could swallow 12 inches of dildo without gagging and I'd teased her for months about the prospect of having no less than 10 men fuck her to unconsciousness. She was the most gracious hostess however, refilling drink glasses, making sure everyone had something to eat, laughing and mingling and making everyone feel comfortable like only a real woman could do.