Eastern Exchange – Tiggy Mills – Transgender story

Sylvia is a young Philippine girl, what is ed bought for a pittance from her family and taken to America on the promise of marriage but the truth that she is nothing but a sex-slave to her owner and master Philippe.

The man is cold and ruthless and uses the young girl for his perverse and selfish sexual pleasures, and Sylvia becomes nothing but a chattel to him, trapped and powerless without a visa, a green card or any money.

She is totally helpless and her life seems lost and hopeless, but then chance intervenes when she enters a small Chinese antique shop buys a small ornate vase on the flippant promise of a change of life at the full moon.

Then something terrible, wonderful and magical transpires and life for Sylvia and Philippe will never be the same again. His existence becomes hers and her life becomes his – and fate has played its’ hand and given them the life they each deserve. Philippe is forced on a sexual journey in his new female form that is dark, debasing and almost sending him to the brink of madness and Sylvia has her own path of discovery both sexually and emotionally to follow.

This is an absorbing, arousing and amazing tale with so many twists and turns that it will enthral…and the devious, deviant, unbelievable finale that will linger in the memory long after you have put the book down.

This is the original gender swap tale and if you have ever wonder what life would be like from a sexually alternate point of view it is not to be missed.

Word count: 32,243


Word Count:  32,2439972121_l


Sylvia was shopping, she liked shopping it took her mind off her life. The cards she had been dealt were tough and the narrow freedom of the afternoon drew her to new areas of the city of San Francisco.

She glanced at her reflection in the sheen of the shop window, she looked as though she belonged in this busy metropolis but she knew she did not. She was pretty -too pretty- her hair was jet black, her face oriental but with large dark western shaped eyes. Her breasts were full and pronounced; her waist thin and her hips shapely; men liked her; one man in particular liked her, controlled her!

She remembered being that innocent schoolgirl of a few years ago, born into the poverty of a small village in the Philippines, she looked at her reflection again, she looked so western and wondered whether her father was in fact her real father?

That was no disgrace in her country it was just a part of life, a fact! Men came for sex with the women, it was cheap, easy, disposable and Sylvia knew from an early age that her destiny was the brothels of Bangkok. She could have au paired in Hong Kong but she knew that her English was not sufficient to meet the high standard the western women expected for their measly dollars.

That was before her parents introduced her to Philippe; she had only been 18, sweet, young and innocent; she remembered blushing when they were first introduced as though he were her first date. Philippe was American, tall, broad, with mousy blonde hair that fell across his forehead like a wave, he was young, attractive, only 32 and Sylvia’s parents considered him a wonderful catch for their daughter and possibly one less mouth to feed in their burgeoning family. Philippe had been very respectful to her parents, he explained how much he liked her and discussed taking her to America where he would marry her, take care of her, for a girl like Sylvia, he was a prize indeed!

Her parents had instructed her to go out with Philippe; to please him and on their very first outing together he took her back to his hotel and took away her virginity and innocence. Sylvia recalled his roughness, there had been no tenderness, foreplay, care; she was taken like an object, an animal used only for his pleasure and release. She had never experienced sex before but it repulsed her, it had been painful, demeaning utterly without any sense of wonderment or enjoyment and she marveled how men could find it so entertaining.

Philippe was nice enough to her afterwards, he bought her a meal and told her in broken English, “How boeeteefull,” she was,

Sylvia smiled and ate; she didn’t like the tall American with piercing green eyes that made her blood run cold, but liking and choice were not meant to be a part of the young girl’s life. She was told to spend the week with the man and night after night, he would have sex with her, sometimes keeping her away from her family until the morning. Sylvia’s initial discomfort and pain during the intercourse changed to a vague disinterest, she felt and received nothing from the man and lay there as he penetrated her, a spectator in her own misfortune.

The man however was happy, he was in love; that’s what he informed Sylvia’s parents and after some squabbling over dollars Sylvia was embarked on way to a new life in America with only a small doll to remind her of home. Her parents told her Philippe was going to marry her, they were pleased for her and the girl tried to be pleased for them. The money that they received would help her family, the family she knew she would never see again. She looked out the window of the 747; saw the island of her home disappear into the clouds and tried not to cry.

Initially life with Philippe was acceptable, even good, the girl marveled at the wonder of America, it was a revelation and the lifestyle impressed and fascinated her. Philippe organized English lessons for her, bought her beautiful clothes and provided her with the most wonderful home, his home, high in the hills.

She was at his beck and call for sex and she approached her obligation with impassive resolve. She could have accepted her role to him in exchange for the opportunity that being wife to a rich western man had to offer. But the weeks flew to months and then to years and the marriage promised to her parent never transpired. She lived as Philippe’s wife, in the beautiful home in the hills but she knew she was not.

As her English and awareness increased she realized that she was nothing more than an illegal immigrant, now totally under the whim of her partner or ‘master’.

She understood that at any stage Philippe could inform the authorities and she would be deported back to the Philippine where a nightmare life awaited her, it was a frightening thought. Philippe however was becoming equally frightening, his sexual demands were becoming more intense, perverse, and after having her he would threaten her that if she failed to please him he would arrange for her to go directly to a large brothel in her home country.

She knew it was no false promise, Philippe had strange and sinister friends and he made it perfectly clear to her that if anything untoward happened to him; if she did anything he did not approve of, her life in America, and the small pleasures it offered her would end!

The sex was just tolerable, but in recent months her had taken to physically and verbally abusing her, she was always, “A tart, a prostitute!”

He would force her to have oral or anal sex; anything he wanted and appeared to take pleasure in the pain and discomfort he administered. He insisted that she dress in the most provocative and trashy manner possible, to encompass the terrible words he called her and she had all afternoon to find an outfit that would please and arouse him. Sylvia tried not to think about the evening and she threw back her dark, black hair, and concentrated on one of her few joys, the afternoon, the shops and a credit card burning a hole in her purse.

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