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From David To Davina (Chris James)


From David To Davina by Chris James

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18 year old David finds a packet of dusty letters in the loft from a grandmother in the USA he didn't know he had. His father refuses to talk about her so, secretly, David writes and wangles an invitation to go and stay, completely dismissing the line in her letter indicating that she would wish to treat him as the grand-daughter she never had!

From the moment he arrives, David realises he has walked into a female world. There are no gents' toilets, no male clothing and, all too soon, no male appendages as artificial parts affixed so that he thinks he has had the sex change operation. David is very quickly becoming Davina, whether he likes or not!

A stern tutor is brought in to teach him the feminine ways of doing things and later, the full operation is carried out. Unfortunately for David/Davina, there is a problem in the household: Debra, formerly his grandmother's favourite, seeks revenge for being displaced.

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 3 / 2012

No. words: 35000

Style: Fem Dom - F/M

Available Formats: Palm  MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  Sony Reader (LRF)  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle


Excerpt

Chapter 1

I sat in the garden, keeping Grandmother Jackson company, much as I had done in the past few years. She was over seventy years of age and becoming tired and frail.
Would she have still behaved the same way if I had arrived to visit her now, instead of ten years ago? It is doubtful whether the determination and strength of personality still exists.
I dozed and my mind travelled back to the fateful day in England when, as a seventeen year old boy, I had gone into our loft to search for something and found the old dusty pile of letters.
Three of these had been sent to my father from grandmother here in America, the last saying that the whole family was no longer welcome and would be cut out of her will. The millions of dollars she had were going to support and help destitute young ladies.
Repeated efforts to get information about her from father or mother were futile and eventually I sat down and wrote to her myself. I had told her how tremendously interested I was in the deep west of the States and what was it really like and asked why had there been an argument in the family.
Finally I had asked her to reply using my best friend's home address, as I guessed Father would probably stop me from seeing any letter from her.
Three months later, after further exchange of letters and bitterly against my parentsí wishes, I had flown from Heathrow to Denver, all expenses paid, along with a visa issued by the U.S. embassy confirming that the visit was to stay with family.
In her lettersGgrandmother had seemed rather peculiar, emphasising that she had a dislike for men, having had a bully as husband and borne him five children, all boys. Now all grandchildren were also male, due to some unusual gene carried by the men in the family.
It had seemed all the more strange when she had agreed to my visit and paid for me to travel. In her last letter when confirming my trip, reference had been made to hoping that I would not mind if she at least treated me as a honorary granddaughter some of the time.
I had never had doubts about my masculinity and had not ever dressed in anything remotely feminine, so the reference and implications had been totally ignored in the rush to visit the land of my dreams.
Little did I realise the punishments and treatment she was to put me through to ensure my co-operation with dressing and eventually becoming her granddaughter!

The journey was uneventful and the plane touched down on the tarmac of Denver International Airport. The hundred or so passengers disembarked and my passport and visa were briefly checked at immigration.
I passed through into the main lounge and quickly spied a young lady holding a placard saying 'DAVID JACKSON'. Taking my suitcase, I quickly moved in her direction, waving as I did so.
"Hello, my nameís David Jackson, did Grandmother ask you to meet me?"
"That's right, young man." She replied, "It was too far for Mrs Jackson to drive and in any case I normally drive long distance for her. Iím Debra Lake, I work for your grandmother in various capacities, including maintaining and driving the vehicles."
We had by this time exited the building and reached a large sleek automobile, totally strange to those in England.
She opened the front passenger door and beckoned me to enter, tossing the case into the back seat, then continued: "We have about sixty miles to drive, most of it is highway."
I must have slept following the long exciting day that had just passed, because the next thing I remembered was the jerk of the car passing over rough ground. We were in wild country area with streams, woods and mountains in every direction.
Debra noticed I had woken up.
"About another four miles, sorry about the road, but we really are in the back roads from here on."
The scenery was fantastic, just as I had imagined in my dreams of America. A wild cat passed across ahead of us and I gasped with awe.
"A cougar," she said, "Definitely not the sort of country to get lost in, unless youíre suitably dressed and armed."
Moments later the vehicle turned a corner and before me lay a panoramic view of paddocks, farm buildings and a magnificent house.
"Your grandmother's house and land, youíre a very lucky person to be able to come and enjoy its benefits. I just hope you can accept the conditions she will impose for you to share it with her."
"What do you mean?" I asked quickly.
"Thatís for her to explain, itís none of my business. I simply do as she orders me, including any chastisement for disobedience."
I was rather alarmed by this comment, but had to be content with the answer and wait the few more minutes of the journey. The car was driven carefully over, what appeared to be a cattle grid, along the drive and swung to a stop in front of the majestic front entrance doors.
They opened as we stopped and a tall well-built woman of about sixty stepped through and walked towards us.
I quickly studied her, assuming she was my grandmother. Obviously her hair was dyed as it still showed no sign of grey. It was of a mid brown colour and was just to shoulder length. Her face was still good looking, with sufficient make-up to cover any ageing there might have been.
Debra had already alighted and said: "I have your guest, Mrs Jackson. He was very tired after the journey and slept most of the way here, but he was awake to see a cougar on the road some miles back and I warned him of the dangers of wandering off in these areas."
She then opened my door. I briskly got out of the car and, reaching the woman, shook her hand saying.
"Hello, Grandmother, I am so pleased to actually meet you."
"Yes, well we will see, young man." She spoke with a deep penetrating forceful voice that made one, to say the least, a little bit nervous.
"You can manage the luggage, Debra. We can't have Davie exerting himself the minute he arrives. "
She led me into an enormous room which was at least three times the size of our lounge back home, although to be fair Dad's house was only a semi detached, three bedroomed estate home.
"This is the lounge and library," she explained. "We will sit and catch up on the family news." She indicated a deep armchair to one side of a roaring fire, taking the opposite one herself.
I sat almost fearfully and waited for her to continue. The voice was firm and powerful, especially for a woman and I kept quiet.
"Well, Davie, you have arrived. The first immediate member of the family I have seen for over ten years. In fact, few visitors do make the journey, except for very close friends: you will meet them in due course. I don't know what your father said about me, but it is a fact that in general I very much dislike men and I am afraid you will be the only male person here during your visit. However we will try to arrange a trip to the Pacific coast during your stay, I have a holiday villa near Santa Barbara. Here you can ride horses and Debra will accompany you on treks through the woods. Two nearby lakes are good for sailing and Georgina, the gardener, will sail with you. Whatever you do don't leave the boundary of my property alone, cougars are not the only danger out there."
I waited to be sure she had finished before saying: "Grandmother, is there a chance of me visiting the Grand Canyon and the Rocky Mountains?"
"We should be able to manage that some time, anyway you can see part of the Rockies from the top of my upper paddock." A bell rang and she got to her feet. "Come, it is time for evening dinner, you must be hungry after that journey."
We walked from the room and, as we did so I tentatively said: "Grandmother, why do you refer to me as Davie? It sounds sort of childish."
She turned and I was stunned by the fierce look on her face.
"I have paid for your visit, will pay for your keep and any trips we make, so please let me call you by my pet name. I have already told you of my dislike for men and in my letter to you asked that I might treat you as a honorary granddaughter. Davie can be interpreted as David or Davina, that is why."
I felt that she was a bit eccentric, but did not want to offend her, so said no more and followed her into the dining room, taking the seat proffered to me at the table.
I pondered the problem while we ate and decided that perhaps I could accept the name during my stay. After all I could hardly demand to be sent back to England simply because she chose to give me a pet name.
The meal finished, I asked to be excused, as I was tired after the journey and the difference in time zone and anyway had not yet seen my room or unpacked my luggage. She nodded, rang a hand-bell and a young woman opened the door.
"Hilary, show my guest to his room."
I followed the young woman as she mounted the central curving staircase, admiring her nylon clad legs and skimpy skirt as I did so. We went along a corridor and towards the end she opened a door and said: "This way, please, toilet and bathroom door on the left-hand side."
Without another word she turned and left. I entered the room to find yet another example of the very feminine style of the whole place, the bedcovers were of a mainly pink flowery pattern, matching a somewhat similar wallpaper.
Too tired to bother any more, I quickly showered, using the perfume smelling shower gel, as there was no alternative, dried myself on the pink towel and, quickly finding my pyjamas, literally fell into bed and immediate sleep.


Reviews

Right amount of kink. 5 out of 5 (FSG)

Author Information

This author specialises in first class enforced feminisation stories.

 

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