The summer passed very quickly as Robert transformed completely into Elemé. Lydia would arrive at his apartment in her workout clothes or a pair of tight jeans and a halter top, a towering figure of seductive strength and power: her muscles were taut, her breasts were large and firm and she stood in his presence like a goddess descended to earth. By now Robert's old identity had been washed away and he thought of himself as Elemé, her submissive child, dependent and pet. When she arrived he was usually in his school girl outfit with his short skirt and white open chested top. He looked up at her like a child. By now his breasts had started to develop and he wore a push-up pink bra to make his small tits stand up. He presented himself to her in the hopes that she would take him.
She took her place in his chair and said, "come girl" or sometimes didn't speak at all but merely called him with a look. He approached her with reverence before lying in her lap, lying across her muscular thighs. She stared down at him with knowing confidence and power before lowering one of her large breasts to his head and slowly poured the fairy juice down her breast to her nipple. He drank desperately, licking her and drinking it up like milk straight from her. As he drank he could feel his own nipples tingle and his penis stiffen in his silk panties. Any trace of his previous, failed, masculine self was completely erased and, in its place, was a doting, submissive female identity.
In this position she would fondle his budding breasts through the pink bra and massage his penis as it came to life. By now, Elemé had been instructed to make himself as girlish as possible and Lydia had told him to use his imagination. He didn't disappoint. His ears were pierced and he was wearing jeweled earrings and he had learned to apply blush, lipstick and nail polish to give the look of a fantasy of a submissive schoolgirl. He was still learning how to present his most feminine self, but he was slowly getting better.
He routinely wore a white or pink lace choker as a symbol of his submissiveness to her and used a lip moisturizer to give his lips a full look. He had restyled his hair completely from a rangy brown mess to a short blonde bob that made him look particularly feminine. Now when Elemé left the house, she no longer presented as masculine but had embraced her new feminine identity. Looking down at this creature lying prone in front of her, Lydia felt a sexual charge as she thought of how she had remolded this failure of a man into her own personal creation.
She looked at his eyes, half-closed with bliss and arousal, and she felt his nipples harden between her fingers as she manipulated them. She continued to pour the fairy juice and watched as he nursed from her breast like a dependent child.
"Elemé, it turns me on so much to see you like this. Like my weak child, being reborn. No longer that failure, Robert, but the new young: my small vassal, Elemé."
"Mmmm. Yes, Ms. Lydia."
"You do like being my child don't you?"
"Yes, Mama."
She felt a thrill of sexual heat move through her body as he called her Mama. The power was intoxicating: she had transformed this adult man into her feminine child. Her nipples hardened even more in response to his suckling and her feeling of intense power. She could feel the blood running through her body as she got turned on by Elemé's submission.
Her breast was thick and round and Elemé was sucking and licking so much that Lydia could feel her sexual need building. She needed release.
"Good girl." She said with a whisper.
She stroked his head lovingly and said, "Robert was such a failure, such a nothing of a man. Wasn't he?"
"Yes, Mama" he said while licking up the thick liquid.
"Elemé is far better, isn't she? Isn't she the real you?"
"Yes, Ms. Lydia."
"You want me to own you, to raise you, to control you, don't you my sweet girl?"
"Yes, Mama."
"Good girl."
As the last of the fairy juice poured down her breast, she pulled Elemé from her nipple, holding him in her powerful arms. He could feel the muscles in her forearms against his weak back. He looked up at her as he was cradled in the air, feeling both in awe of her power and a desire to submit even more.
She bent down slightly and brought him to the ground where he looked up at her powerful, naked thighs, the muscle evident even in her seated position, and her tight, shaven pussy. He was surrounded by her strength and he felt like a small supplicant seated at the altar of her sex.
"Worship me, girl."
He placed one hand on either powerful thigh, feeling the tight muscles under the hot flesh and buried his face into her glorious pussy. He licked eagerly and reverently, taking her clit in his mouth and worshipping her. It didn't take long before she was grinding her pussy against his face. Elemé's cock was hard and, as her thrusts became faster and eventually more forceful, she shouted "Fuck your hand."
He began pulling his rock hard dick as he licked her and as she mashed her engorged clit into his full lips. Her thrusts were strong and powerful and as she bucked her hips he felt his own orgasm come over him. He came in spurts on the floor as she shouted loudly and he tasted the wash of her cum enter his mouth. He swallowed dutifully. In the afterglow of their sex he lay, spent at her feet, while she leaned back in the chair. He looked like a harem slave who was reveling in her subjugation.
The contrast between Lydia and Elemé was more evident than ever. Where Elemé had spent the summer transforming into an even more submissive and feminine version of herself, Lydia had spent it working out in the gym, pushing her strength in new ways and preparing for the year at college. When they had first met at the beginning of the summer, Lydia was a large, muscular teenage girl but she had now transformed into an extraordinarily powerful, muscular woman. The thickness of her torso, the muscles in her arms, and the strength of her legs resembled a Crossfit athlete. Her thighs were thicker than Elemé's torso and her biceps were like two small footballs in her arms. Her back was broad and thick before tapering into a narrow, strong waist. She resembled an amazonian goddess and this image of her was helped along by the 3" that she had grown in the past 4 months.
Lydia now stood 6' tall, 8" taller than Elemé -- his face was even with the top of her breasts. She would regularly put on her leather boots with a 3" heel so that he stood virtually a foot taller than him. They would go to dinner, Lydia in her leather boots and a tight skirt and shirt that outlined all of her strength and sexuality and Elemé in his school girl outfit that highlighted his weakness. Lydia would ensure that they sat at the front of the restaurant, that she was the one who pulled a chair out for him, that she paid for his dinner.
People would stare at the image of the amazonian young woman, bursting with muscle and power, alongside her diminutive feminine companion. When they would get home, Lydia would feed him his fairy juice in her boots so that he had to stand on his toes to reach her nipple and drink from her. The sight of him, feminized, submissive, and straining to reach her nipples and feed from her was intoxicating. She had to remind herself that this feminine plaything that Elemé had become was once a boy six years her senior. He was once a man but she had taken all of that away: Elemé was now her servant, her child. More than once she had scooped Elemé up in her powerful arms and held her there, suckling, like a child.
Every facet of Lydia's identity was honed to be stronger, smarter, more dominant, more powerful. She exuded both a raw physical strength and a sharp intellect and as she grew and became stronger she found that she intimidated the people around her. Grown men would avert their eyes and stutter when they spoke to her, taking in her breasts, her visible muscles, and her feminine beauty. It was clear that she was overwhelming them sexually, physically, and mentally. She noticed the changes in how people behaved all around her and decided to start using it to her advantage.
In the middle of the summer she was at a pharmacy and was being helped by an older woman who looked to be in her early thirties. The woman had a nice figure with a somewhat plump ass and medium sized breasts and shoulder length brown hair. She had her back to Lydia and when she turned and took in her size and strength, her mouth dropped open with surprise. Lydia was wearing black shorts and a tank top that hid none of her muscles or curves.
Lydia watched as the older woman's eyes traced her powerful neck, her significant breasts barely contained by her tank top, and the outlines of muscle in her arms. The woman must have stood 5'6 and just came up to Lydia's jaw: she stared and inadvertently licked her lips.
Then her eyes met Lydia's for a moment before she caught herself: she blushed, her face going red and she stared at the ground before stammering,
"Yes, c-can I help you, Miss?"
Lydia smiled at her embarrassment, "Yes, I'm looking for a muscle relaxant. You see, I'm lifting pretty heavy weights and I need something to help ease my muscle pain. Can you recommend something?"
The woman took a second to register Lydia's words, as she was still taking in the amazonian powerhouse that stood before her.
"Um... yes. Yes, I can help you. Please follow me, Miss."
The woman turned and led her to the aisle and showed her the various cremes that would help.
"Which one do you suggest?"
The woman took one off the shelf and presented it to Lydia.
