Androgenous Necessitous
 mf m-dom sm violence tg

[I wrote this several months ago but I was uncomfortable with the extreme
misogynism of the narrator. Rereading it now I feel I can post it with the
comment that this does not reflect my views. I wanted to write a character
that would force a f to m trans- genderization upon his own child. Hence
this narrator. Also observe that the word "androgenous" is different than
"androgynous".]

Androgenous Necessitous by Eli the Bearded

Ah, Fisuh. I see you have arrived. Please let Muriel take your son. I have
some background to fill you in on before I can give you to my son.

I was delighted when I learned that my favorite slave was to bear me a
child. In any of them but Muriel I doubt I would have kept it, although I
still don't know if I would let another slave carry it to term for adoption
or if I would abort the thing. But since it was Muriel, she would produce my
fruit. Monica was happy to be informed on my decision on the matter in that
simple way that slaves can experience emotions.

As a reward, I relieved her of most of her duties and relaxed the
punishments for her transgressions so that she may better incubate my child.
It gave me pleasure to observe the swelling of her womb with my son. I even
felt a sexual excitement noticing her breasts were preparing themselves to
give to him. I remember listening and feeling to him kick the walls of his
enclosure. I had begun to speak to him then, to tell him much as he may
dislike that dark it was necessary for his health.

It was at six months that I choose to name him Torquil. It is a good strong
name. Coming from the Gaelic, it means Thor-cauldron. It would be the name
of a child with power and presence.

When the birthing was finally at hand, I was amused to see torment Muriel
felt. Months of immunity from torture had greatly reduced her pain
threshold. It was a good foretaste of what was to come. She had made a
mistake, you see, she had born me a child without manhood. I could have
given the child away at that point, but I had become attached to the idea of
having a son.

My first reaction was to have her flogged. I had another slave do it with a
good suede strap. She would know the insult of such an impersonal whipping.
While the leather was being worked, I considered my options. I made some
enquires with some associates and established that although Torquil was
deficient, this could be corrected -- to an extent -- by the careful
application of hormones. I saw this as my only option and seized upon it.

Checking upon Muriel, I saw that her back and thighs were now quite raw. I
had the slave stop for I now had a better way to punish her. She had borne
me the wrong child, so I would not let her forget the pregnancy. I had her
secured to a bench with her legs spread. Then I wiped away her tears so she
could better watch. I got a large latex balloon. Holding on to the mouth of
it with one hand and the top with my other, I shoved my fist between her
legs. With the latex reaching deep inside her, I proceeded to fill the
balloon from a hose. I watched as the empty incubator was restored to its
full size. She sobbed and called upon me to stop but I was not going to have
mercy. I let the pressure build some more so as to be sure this repregnancy
would be less comfortable that the real one.

Satisfied she was pained, I stopped the hose and sealed the balloon. I had
sex with her then. I wanted to pound away at her womb to her keep her
suffering and doing so as sex would remind her about planted seeds and
tending gardens. Never have I known a slave to scream at copulation like she
did then.

When I had sown my seed, I told her about my plans for the child. I had
Torquil brought to feed from her. I desired that she contemplate what I was
to do, so I had him naked. The horror she felt gave me confidence in my
choice, but it also necessitated that I gag her so as not to disturb his
suckling. She tried to turn her head away from the smooth sex of the child
she knew would not last long, but I did not let her. She had lapsed and the
consequences of this must be made clear to her.

Then I noted that she was trying to birth the balloon I had put inside her.
That would have gone against her punishment, so I gave her a punch to stop
the contractions. She strained at the gag in her torment. To keep her from
trying it again, I pierced her labia with a series of interlocking rings.
The steel gate across her channel warmed my heart.

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day was the beginning of the hormone treatments for my son. I had
already instructed the slaves and staff to ignore the misbegotten genitalia
and treat him as he should be treated. I had caught one of the staff
conversing with a slave using the word "she" to refer to Torquil that
morning. He was dismissed immediately and the slave had a chain attached to
her tongue so that she could not talk. Of course she got a good whipping
with a brine-soaked strap as well. With such a firm example made, the others
would be sure to keep to their places.

I had even gotten an associate of mine to fill out the birth certificate to
show my child as a boy. Oh how proud I was of him! For the first few months
he was getting megadoses of testosterone three times a day. I was pleased to
watch his penis forming and his and labia swell. But the progress was just
not fast enough. I began to use other techniques to enhance him. I had a
surgeon move his urethra closer to where it belonged. I had the inner and
outer labia sewn together. Left and right sides were still separate but I
planned to fix that later. I got special growth hormones to apply
hypodermically to the undersized organs.

When his teeth were first coming in I had the urethra moved again to its
final position. This had had to be done in two steps to allow the body to
adjust, the surgeon had assured me. For the price he asked, I assume he was
correct on this matter. Oh the joy Torquil brought me to him grow and crawl
and play and lose his foul biology!

At eighteen months the ovaries were removed and silicone testes were
implanted. It was then that his vagina had been sealed forever. The
prosthetics I had implanted were specially made for him. They were filled
with hormones to be released slowly into his body. I found a slight irony in
knowing the technology for this had been developed as a birth control
device.

I got him toy weapons and taught him to wrestle and fight and masturbate.
When he turned four I began to teach him the proper ways to treat the
slaves. I remember fondly him burning Muriel's nipples with the candles from
his birthday cake. Later that month he so badly beat her that the
repregnancy was aborted. The joy Torquil brought me was so much, however, I
couldn't find the strength to replace the balloon.

When he was six, his implants were replaced with larger ones match his
growing body. It was about that time that he first asked about his sex. I
told him the truth, that he had born as a slave but that I, in my generous
love, has saved him from that unfortunate fate. It was moving to watch
Muriel cry as he told her his luck. Then I remember he whipped her. That
night for the first time in years I had sex with her, the scene had been so
powerful.

I got a tutor for him about then. I remember the difficulty I had finding
someone suitable. Oh there were plenty who asked no questions and were
willing to take the job, but I wanted someone not so passive. I wanted
someone who knew to drill into Torquil his superiority.

Time passed and Torquil grew larger and stronger. He showed a definite mean
streak even though I tried to teach him to keep himself in check. That it is
breakfast time is not sufficient reason to draw blood from a slave, but he
liked it on his toast so he would do so.

At twelve I again had his testes replaced. He was old enough to put up a
fuss about this, but I subdued him. Then I told him when the stitches came
out he could learn how to have sex. That helped pacify him. I was glad to
see he was beginning to learn restraint.

Muriel had come along well, she no longer made any attempt to resist plans
made for her, so I decided that she should be Torquil's first. She took the
news with no emotion which I took to be a good sign. To make Torquil feel
more comfortable I instructed her to actively help him. She nodded quietly.
The sight made me remember why she had been my favorite slave: the way she
needed so little coercion to do things. I thought that perhaps I would be
able to forget those years of defiance and return her to that special
status.

When the time came, I watched proudly as she sucked my son to erection and
then guided him to her box. I observed his incoming pubic hair and his
slowly developing body as he smashed his hips into hers. His penis and come
along nicely from its poor starting condition. The shape of the glans was
still odd and his foreskin was non-existent, but he had a good wand
nonetheless.

He continued the sex for about five minutes until he was too soft. It
saddened me that he had no way to ejaculate, but overall I was proud of his
performance. He watched with interest as I let Muriel fellate me. She was
good and knew to keep Torquil from seeing the semen lest he become curious.
He asked while watching if he would someday be as large as me, I reassured
him that he was still growing.

When he turned fourteen, I got him his own slave. I picked one with very
little experience so that she would not know anything was amiss. It was good
training for him to keep her locked up and away from everyone else so that
she would not have an opportunity to learn that the quirks of my son's
anatomy were unusual.

He beat her and had sex with her, but I don't know if he felt real orgasms
or if it was boredom controlling the length of his encounters. Although he
had his own girl, he continued to go with Muriel. She was so loving towards
him, it amazed me. She would often offer her nipple to him in the morning so
that he could bleed it for his toast. I know his slave was jealous of her,
but I don't think that Muriel held any ill will for the slave. I know I felt
pride to watch my son do it with his slave, but I felt a longing for such
closeness when he did it with Muriel.

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------

I was very surprised when Muriel killed one of the staff. Even in the depths
of her depraved disobedience she had never acted with much aggression. My
first action was to put a leather hood over her face and let the dogs play
with her a while. I didn't want to kill her so I watched to make sure the
hounds didn't get too rough. Then I secured her with heavy manacles and left
her in a cell for a day.

When I finally did ask her why she killed the poor bastard, she gave me a
reason that did justify his death, her not her part in it. Apparently he had
been fucking Torquil's slave. I sentenced Muriel to another week of in the
cell. Then I spoke to Torquil about his lax security.

He was appalled at the news. He began to beat the slave screaming about how
worthless she was. She wailed in pain but made no coherent response. After
she lost consciousness I stopped Torquil and told him to calm down. It was
then that I began to suspect that the shame of his own ambiguous history was
taking its toll on his mind.

It was about three months later when I became sure. Muriel was of course out
of the cell by then. She still had the leg irons though as punishment.
Torquil's slave had a definite hatred for Muriel at that point. It was only
the fear of the whip that could keep the slave in the same room as her.
Somehow though, Muriel learned that the slave was pregnant. This time she
did the right thing and told me about the situation.

I made some enquires with Torquil and he told me that yes, he had noticed
the slave had not bled in some months but that he didn't know this was
significant. I told him the significance of it and he flew into such a fury.

I decided it was best not to stop his battery of the slave even after I
could plainly see that she was dead. I thought it best for him to get the
anger out. When he was done with her she resembled a small rodent that had
wandered onto a big highway. There was blood everywhere. Bone fragments
littered the room like confetti from a pinata. The scene left an
uncomfortable feel in my stomach.

The next day he tried to hang himself.

I was able to stop him, but the experience shook me. I tried to reassure him
that his masculinity was as good as if it were born with him, but somehow he
had found out about semen so my argument was a lost cause. I did manage to
work his self-esteem up a fair amount though.

I got him another slave. Inside of a year she was dead too. I didn't ask
why. Now this is where you, Fisuh, come in. You will be his next woman. But
I don't want you to die and, I hope, you do not want your son to die. I have
seen the love a mother can have for a child and I will count on you to be
the paragon of that love.

I will keep your son, and raise him like my own flesh. For as long you keep
Torquil from killing you, you can be sure that your child is being raised
well. In the event of your death, I will let Torquil decide the child's
fate. I doubt he will want your offspring to live on as a reminder of you if
he has killed you. I am counting on your motherly love to enable you to find
the right way to serve Torquil. You will never let him doubt that he is a
man and you will never make him feel a need to prove himself.

I expect him to be able to tell me in a year or two that you have restored
his will to live, his confidence, his self worth. In my gratitude for you
doing this you can be assured that your son will receive the careful and
conscientious upbringing that you would have never been able to provide for
him.

I trust that makes everything clear. If you have no questions, one of the
slaves will show you to your domicile and Torquil will be informed of your
existence.