* * *

Astrid drank heavily on the flight to Miami, and was almost asleep for the whole car ride to the hotel. Once they arrived, the unpacked, and she was shocked at how many women's clothes she had now.

"Remember my love, you will wear them whenever we are in public. And for now, around the house too, until you come to accept yourself as a woman. Also, I bought you these" said Hans, handing over three bottles of pills, and a disk full of little pink and brown ones.

"Those are birth control pills. Take one every day. These are estrogen supplements. Take two of each, also every day. You need to do this in front of me, so I can make sure you're not faking it."

"Why?" said Astrid meekly.

"They will help turn your body into the one I want you to have. You see, I am really turned on by women who look and act feminine, but aren't real women between their legs. You looked so good in your wedding dress! I knew you would be perfect for me. These pills will slowly change you. In time, you'll have real breasts of your own, although I might have you go get implants, so I don't have to wait as long."

Astrid was stunned. Real breasts? Become just like a girl? This was too much.

"But..." she started, but Hans slapped her.

"Never disagree with me. Understand?" he said. He raised his hand as if he was going to do it again.

"Yes! I understand! Please don't!" begged Astrid, smarting from the first hit.

"Good. Remember, you swore to love, honor and obey me."

That night, Hans told Astrid to wear the yellow sundress. After dinner and a walk along the beach, they made out, then went back to the room where Hans did his thing to her again. It wasn't as painful physically, but it was mentally and emotionally. Astrid cried herself to sleep that night.

For the two weeks, it went on like this. Pain, anguish, fear. It was clear that alcohol wasn't enough to drown her sorrows, so she started to develop another coping mechanism. She pretended that it was happening to someone else.

"Astrid is being kissed" thought Bill, in his innermost soul. "Astrid is hurting from being hit."

It was all happening to this person 'Astrid', not to him.

* * *

When Astrid returned home, she was miserable. She had thought of ditching Hans, but he never let her out of his sight. When they landed, he took her passport from her. He was a control freak, and *she* was the one being controlled. He watched with glee every day as she took her female hormones. She was so worried about what they would do to her, and how they would effect her body. She didn't want to be altered, but it was going to happen if she kept taking them.

She found that the first few weeks at home were just as miserable as the honeymoon.

"Can't I dress up as Bill when I go to school, or to work?" asked Astrid.

"No wife of mine is going to work! Or go to school for that matter. No! You will stay home, and work around the house. If I find out that you go out for anything other than shopping, you will be in big trouble. Understand?"

Astrid lowered her head, and nodded.

Things were sad for her. She had no joy in life. Hans did not allow her to talk to her family. She had no friends. And every night, he forced her to do things in the bedroom that she dared not even think about.

It was their fourth week back from the honeymoon when Astrid finally found a spark. Hans took her out to dinner, with his brother and his wife. When the arrived at the restaurant, Astrid almost jumped out of her dress when she discovered who Hans' brother was. Amalie!

She waited until the right moment, then announced she had to go to the rest room. Amalie got up to accompany her, since women never to alone.

"You're Hans' brother's wife?" said Astrid.

"Yes. That is how they arranged to have me help you prepare for your wedding. How is married life?"

"Miserable. I hate him. He uses me for sex, but has no love for me. He is a control freak. He wants to control every aspect of my life! He makes me take female hormones. He won't allow me to see my friends and my family. I am alone and I hate everything."

"Poor Astrid. Listen. I will help you. I feel guilty for my part in their plan. When we get back to the table, just play along."

"All right" said Astrid, still unsure about what Amalie could possibly do to help.

"Hans, I'm going shopping for a new dress tomorrow" said Amalie after dessert was served. "I think it would be wonderful if Astrid could accompany me, and get one for herself. A girl can't go without new clothes every so often. I'll take care of her, you needn't worry."

"Well, all right. As long as it is for clothes shopping, you can go" he said to Astrid. For the first time in over a month, she would have some degree of freedom! She felt a surge of excitement.

* * *

"Why Amalie, why did you help them do this to me?" asked Astrid, when they were finally alone in Amalie's car, driving to the mall.

"Do you think I really had a choice? If you think Hans is rough, you've never met his brother. If I didn't do exactly what they wanted...."

Her voice was trembling as it cut off.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way" said Astrid, now feeling bad that she had tried to pin the blame on Amalie. "I'm just on edge, because I hate everything so much. I hate my life, I hate what he has done to me, and what he's doing to me."

"I know. That's why I came here, to help you. I realize that I helped put you into a bad situation. So now I want to fix it for you."

"How can you possibly do that?" asked Astrid.

"Lets look at this logically" said Amalie. "First, Hans is a total control freak. Right?"

"Oh yeah. Big time."

"And he gets off on forcing you to look and act like a woman. He's making you take female hormones too, isn't he?"

"Four a day. I think I can see effects starting already."

"Now he gets off on that, right? Then the way to get him back is to make it so that he's not controlling you anymore."

"How can I possibly do that? He controls every aspect of my life!" said Astrid.

"Yes he does. But use that against him."

"How?"

"Instead of fighting him as he tries to feminize you, *embrace* it. He gets excited because he's *forcing* you to become a woman. But what if you took off, and really wanted to become one? What if you became ultra-feminine, and relished everything about being a woman?"

"He'd feel like I was out of his control."

"And he would hate that, but wouldn't be able to do anything about it."

"That's wonderful!" beamed Astrid.

"But there's more. I've known him for many years. He likes men who look like women, but still act like men. So what you need to do is to start *acting* like a girl. Think like a girl, talk like a girl, walk like a girl, and act like a girl. The more you are a woman, the more he will be repulsed. Then at worst he'll leave you alone. At best, he'll start having affairs, and then you have him."

"How?"

"Divorce is not tolerated in this country, unless the husband cheats on the wife. In that case, she is entitled to most of his estate, and he is the one who lives in shame. So you'll get the house, the money, the car, and he'll get squat."

"Wow, you're a genius! How can I ever repay you?"

"By taking Hans down. Then you can help me with his brother."

"I promise" said Astrid, feeling ready to cry tears of joy.

* * *

After purchasing a few outfits and three pairs of shoes, Astrid rode back home with Amalie.

"How can I start to talk like a woman more, so I can drive him crazy?"

"Start with a few simple things. First of all, think of how women love to amass clothes. Keep asking him 'Can I get this pair of shoes?' or 'I need another purse. Do you want to come shopping with me?'. Stuff like that."

"OK" said Astrid, keeping mental notes.

"Next, women like to decorate the house. Ask him if he thinks new curtains would make the room look better, and keep asking little questions about it. When he gets tired of it and allows you to buy something, bring it home, but make *him* put it up. Keep giving him a list of chores to do around the house. Start to complain that he's not giving you enough attention, and that its unfair how much of the housework you do, while he does nothing."

"Won't he be upset?"

"Yes, but that's the point. You might even get slapped some of the times, but keep it up. Keep pestering him. Watch TV, and listen to how women talk to their men. Do that to him. And I'll keeping giving you tips."

"Anything else?"

"Sure. One more thing. Start talking to him in great detail about your day. Go deep into what he things are frivolous, feminine details, like what Susan said about Janice's Aunt. Give him so much he zones out, then complain he doesn't listen to you. Tell him 'but I told you about that yesterday, you never listen to me!'. That will drive him up a wall."

"Do women really do all that?"

"To some degree. But exaggerate it. Play it up. Giggle. Act like a silly girl sometimes. The more you do it, the quicker he will get fed up, and pull away from you."

As the arrived at Astrid's home, they went over the details again. Astrid walked into her door, swinging her hips in her best feminine walk, determined to become ultra-feminine.

* * *

Just as Amalie had feared, Astrid was slapped around a few times when she began to pester Hans. But it was a small price to pay for the quick results she achieved.

"But Hans, you promised me that I could get implants so I'd get real breasts sooner. I wish I had real ones like Amalie has. Oh please, let me go see the doctor!"

"I told you that *I* might decide to give them to you!" he thundered.

"Yes, and now its time. I want them so much! Think of how much nicer I'll look in a dress. Oh, and that reminds me. There is a sale this weekend, and I saw just the cutest dress in a catalog. Can I get it? Oh, and I'll need new shoes to match."

"You just got new shoes. How many pairs do you need?"

"Oh, but these are so cute! Why don't you come with me, so we can shop together? Won't that be fun? And you can help me pick out the new colors for the sun room."

"Dammit Astrid, you're pestering me just like a woman!"

"But I am a woman dear. You made me become one. But as I was saying, those colors in the sun room are so old and faded, we really need to do something about it...."

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