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Whispers For Whitney | A Toy’s Wish
Even as she slept, Whitney felt Miss Simone’s presence. The tendrils of magic tickled Whtiney’s mind, corrupting her thoughts with more feminine dreams.
“This is where you belong, little one,” the ethereal voice of her Mistress whispered within Whitney’s dreams. “You are my treasured toy and I will care for you.” Her words stirred Whitney’s yearning for Simone’s influence and praise, strengthening her hold over the little woman.
Whitney knew what she was and who she had been. Dusty, lingering memories of a former life were hidden behind the cloud of bliss Simone kept her in. They were faint, but still there. She remembered checking into Simone’s bed and breakfast and falling into a deep sleep on the silk sheets. Whitney remembered the enchanted tights rolling up her legs, siphoning off all the masculine energy within. The delicious changes Simone’s spells wove as they transformed her, taking masculine flesh and remaking it into something pretty. The magic overwhelmed the boy’s mind, flooding it with pheromones and estrogen. . . pumping vivid desires into him to override his will.
His legs encased in pristine white nylon, the enchanted garments softening the boy who would eventually become Whitney. The haze of sinful delight dulled his resolve. He should have wanted to run but the sensations were so intoxicating. Why leave something that felt so wonderful?
As his body changed, the cocoon of magic kept him unaware of his change in stature. He noticed the nubile breasts protruding from his chest yet he did not notice his room had changed. Instead, he sat in an exact replica, a miniature silk bed less than one tenth the size. Instead, he was enraptured by the powerful magic reshaping his neither regions. New warmth tingled within the abdomen as a pathway formed. . . his manhood deflated and shriveled away, creating an entrance to a new womb. It was still pulsing with sensitivity when Whitney discovered her new name, the magic erasing the male name from existence.
It took little Whitney some time to realize she was being watched. She blushed as she saw her Mistress from afar, watching her new toy as the little one discovered her new body. The doll girl was so vulnerable now! And yet. . . she did not feel fear. There was only embarrassment from loving her new form. Those nagging boy thoughts told her it was wrong to be this way, clashing with Whitney’s new womanly stirrings. Instinctively she knew her fate was in Simone’s hands, but she wanted to be the best toy she could be.
That day seemed so long ago to little Whitney. She now spent her days preening and posing, making herself pretty with the miniature cosmetics and dresses Simone bought her. Whitney’s Mistress would clap and compliment her beautiful toy as she put on a show for her. Whitney lived for the attention - she was trapped within an invisible cage of femininity but she never wanted to leave. All Whitney wanted was to be a toy her Mistress wanted to play with.