TRANSFORMATION by Terry P
I awoke, as the thunder clattered and the storm's fury pounded the windows. The room was dark, its size hid in the shadows. The icy air gripped at my body. I shivered, groped for some source of warmth, some shelter from the chill. It was a large bedroom, it ceilings high, its walls covered with classic paintings. Above me spread the canopy of the antique bed, and nearby on a graceful cane chair was a robe. I grabbed for the robe, covered my nakedness, and sat up on the edge of the bed. The bare wood floor was cold, and as I stepped towards the door, I stumbled over a pair of slippers, and quickly thrust my feet into them, grateful for the shield against the arctic boards. Carefully, and awkwardly because of the dark, and the slippers, I moved towards the sliver of light marking the outline of the door. I found the handle, turned it slowly, and the door swung smoothly inwards, light spilling over the threshold into the room. I crept cautiously down the long brightly lit hall. The house was quiet, still, broken only by the click of the slippers. The doors lining both sides of the hall were locked, their interiors hidden and mute. At the end of the hall, the walls bent to support a graceful arch of circular stairs. Slowly I descended into the darkness. My hands, pressed against the support of the curved wall, struck a switch, and I flicked the bottom of the stairs into light. The lower floor was one large room, its walls panelled, its floors covered with thick oriental rugs. I spotted the double doors crouching in the shadows at the end of the room. I made my way slowly to the door, and as I extended my hand towards the brass handles, a voice from the shadows cracked through the silence, its velvet tone a command. "What do you think you are doing?" "Nothing, Nothing" I stammered as I strained to find words to explain. "I woke up here, I don't know where I am." "I know that. I brought you here." "But why?" "Silence" she said in a tone full of silken menace. "I have plans for you. A design to follow. You are the clay I plan to mold." "I don't understand. What do you mean?" "Look at yourself in that mirror." she whispered, her voice husky and low, as she flipped the switch illuminating the mirrored wall. Slowly I turned my head to the mirror, and gasped. I was wearing a woman's night robe, silken and lacy. The slippers were frilly and heeled. "I don't understand, these aren't mine, I just found them in the room upstairs." "That is your room. Those are your pretty things. Now do you understand?" "I still don't know what is going on."
"I see. Well, my pretty, this should help you to understand." she purred in throaty whisper. She pulled at a velvet cord, and faintly a bell clapped in the background. A second later three women, their strong bodies wrapped in dark leather, appeared and without hesitating grabbed me, immobilized me, and dragged me up the stairs. The woman below stepped from the shadows, tall and stately, her long hair flowing to her leathered shoulders, long legs wrapped in heeled leather boots. "You'll soon see. You'll soon see." The silken threats followed me up the stairs.
The women led me to a large bathroom, and after stripping me, strapped me to a barber's chair. The women then set to work. First, as I screamed silently into the gag, they ran an electric razor over my legs, leaving them smooth and hairless. Then, they did the same on my arms and chest.
After that was done, they spread hot sticky wax over the shaven areas, and when cooled, peeled of the remaing hair and roots in long strips. After they rubbed cooling lotion over my now smooth body they stepped back, cluckimg in admiration. Next, they moved their attention to my face, shaving it closely twice, then waxing it three times, until it too was smooth and silky. Next they pulled a magnifying mirror over, and began plucking carefully at my eyebrows. Reflected in the lens, I saw my brows plucked into thin, fine, arched lines. They then spread a mask of mud on my face, cooling the sting from the wax. While the mask stiffened, they set to work on my nails. They carefully shaped and filed them, after gluing the false nails to my own. They covered the long graceful nails with a coat of glossy red polish, doing the same to my toenails. Next they scraped the mud from my face, and washed it with a cleansing lotion. They then turned their attention to my hair, carefully measuring it, looking at its part, the way it waved. After conferring briefly, one of the women set to work on my hair. She started out by washing and conditioning my hair. All the while, her manner was smooth and expert. After a while she stopped, ran a comb through it, and then leaned me back towards the sink again. She washed my hair again, coating it with a strange smelling lotion, then rinsing it carefully. Without stopping she then coated my hair with a foul smelling creme, and began to roll the hair up in curlers. I began to tremble in the chair, but was helpless to stop the process. After she finished with the rollers,she pulled up a dryer, and placed it over my head.
The sound of the dryer's motor nestled in my ears, as my heart pounded, and my thoughts jumbled in my head. Time blurred and several hours later, the dryer stopped, and the woman began removing the rollers from my hair. She then began to comb and tease my hair, and then sprayed it into position. Then with a touch of fanfare she wheeled the chair around and showed me the results in the mirror. I gasped, as I saw my hair now silky and blonde, lightly curled and shaped smoothly to my face. In the pit of my stomach, I began to understand just what the woman in black had in store for me. But I didn't know why, or just how wrong I really was. The women unstrapped me from the chair, and quickly clamped my arms over my head, leaving me standing, naked and defenseless. One of the women went over to a large oak dresser, opened and looked through one of the large heavy drawers. She grabbed something, brought it back over and wrapped it around my naked waist. It was a corset, white and lacy. Strong hands laced me into it and drew it tighter and tighter, the breath forced from my body. I watched in horror as my waist was shrunk down, impossibly narrow. Next, one of the women grabbed hard at my penis, and pulled it back against my body, tucked cowering between my legs. She then slipped on a tight pair of panties of some sort, that forced my penis backwards concealing it completely. After another trip to the dresser, the women slipped a well padded bra onto my smooth chest, unlocking, then relocking an arm at a time. Th falsies pressed out from my chest, firm and shapely. The women then slipped my hairless smooth legs into sheer stockings, and attached them to the garters dangling, like earrings, from the corset. The silky fabric felt like a caress.
Next, after a trip to a large walk-in closet, the women pointed my feet into a thigh-heeled, open toed, delicate leather pump. I tottered helplessly on the heels, noting but not believing how the heels molded the calves, how the arch of of the foot was somehow graceful and elegant. Next the women, their breathing slow and labored as if working hard, directed my nylon clad legs into a satiny skirt. The skirt, short and tight, displayed the full length of my legs, its fabric light, shifting, as wheat in the wind, with my every move. Next they slid my arms, one at a time into a tight silk blouse, its arms puffed and lacy. As I stared at the ground, I noticed the fabric rise and fall on the falsies with my every breath. A narrow belt of gold lame was then circled around my narrow waist, emphasizing, and exaggerating, the fullness of my hips. After slipping a few delicate rings, past the red of my nails, on to my fingers, and placing a bracelet, narrow and fragile like a spider's web in full sunlight, on my wrist, they sat me down, clamped my arms to the chair's. Then they quickly pierced my ears, the needle sharp and hot. I felt the earrings, golden, like drops of honey, hanging from my ears, brushing against the smoothness of my neck. While I was still seated the women pulled my hair into a tight nylon cap, and covered with a sheet the blouse and skirt.
One of the women, removed the gag from my mouth. Her stony look told me to stay quiet. She then began to brush at my face, with careful, obviously practiced skill. Some time later she moved from my face to my eyes, brushing something outlining the eyelashes, curling them, spreading mascara on them until they were so long I could almost focus on them. Satisfied, she then took a brush to my lips, its tip covered with paint like the tip of a red hot poker. Next she went back to the face itself brushing carefully with different brushes. After a short while, she took the stocking cap off, and combed my hair with her fingers, stepped back to admire her handiwork, and then spun the chair towards the mirror. I stared, closed my eyes tight to clear my vision, to shake the image from my head, and then opened them again, slowly. I was completely speechless. My mind just refused to function. A face, familar somehow, but unknown to me stared out from the mirror. The woman was a master of cosmetics. The makeup had been applied so carefully that it was hard to tell any had been used. My eyes stared out big and beautiful below the long, graceful lashes, their ovals somehow captured by the touch of violet on their lids. The skin of the face was smooth and creamy, flawless and elegant, showing the graceful curve of the throat, the petiteness of the nose, the delicate curves of the high cheekbones. The mouth was full, and lovely, the teeth somehow whiter, pressed like pearls on a bed of red velvet. I realized I was holding my breath, and pushed the air from my lungs. The breast rose and fell beneath the silky blouse. I shook my head, disbelievingly, and the hair, golden and full, shifted erotically to frame the face, the earrings swinging like precious bells. Stunned, incapable of resisting, the women stood me up. The silky skirt fell to caress my legs. They led me through the door, I struggled to walk on the heels, heard them click on the parquet floor. They led me down the stairs to where the woman in black stood waiting.
"You may go." she directed, and the women disappeared as quickly as they had appeared. "Now do you understand?" she asked her voice low and quiet. "Yes. You want to humiliate me, to take away my manhood." "Quiet!" she said her voice still quiet, her eyes gleaming. "I have not taken anything away. I instead have given you a great gift. Your so called manhood is nothing compared to what I want to do for you!" "What is this all about? Why me? What do you want from me?" I felt what little control I had spiralling away. "You know what this is all about. You have always known. Its what you have dreamed about for so many years. Why you, because you are right for my plans. All I want from you is for you to accept what has become inevitable. You couldn't keep this hidden forever. I have taken it upon myself to do what you were to afraid to ever do." "How did you find out. I stopped wearing this type of clothes, doing this sort of thing months ago. I swore never to do it again." "But you did, didn't you?" "How did you find out about that? "I began to get scared, this woman knew things no one could possibly know." "I found out, thats all that matters." she said, her tone indicating that further questions would not be welcome. "Now let's talk about what I have in store for you." She outlined what she had done in the last few days. She had sent a letter of resignation to my boss, sent letters to my friends saying I was off to Europe for six months. She had paid all my bills, had arranged to have all mail forwarded, had taken care of my apartment, making a six month rent payment, making it ready to be empty for the whole period. She had even set up an answering machine on my phone so that calls could be screened.
Next she explained what steps she had taken to insure that my stay stayed just. The house was securely locked. One of the women would always be around. What she outlined next completely shocked me, even more than what had already happened. She had made arrangements with the local judge, and had a warrant for my arrest as a sex pervert. She showed me the evidence, the witnesses' statements, and psychiatric testimony that would be more than enough to convict me and to keep me committed to an asylum for a very long time. As I struggled to keep from fainting, she then said "Here are the rewards of good behavior." The document she showed me was a trust fund, in my name, maturing in six months. The amount was staggering. "This is all yours, every penny, if you do as you are told, and as you really truly want to do. I know this, but the money should help convince you. Its just a pittance to me." "What choice do I have?" I mumbled weakly. "I'm yours." "Then you do understand. Good. Now be a good girl and go up to your bed. You must get your beauty sleep, as tomorrow will be a busy day." She showed me the schedule, which would be exhausting. Up at six, 2 hours of dance and exercise. "You need to lose a little weight dear. There are scads of tights and leotards in your dresser." Next a light breakfast followed by more exercise, thirty minutes with a masseur, and a sauna. "Next you'll have to get all prettied up. One of the girls will show you how to use your makeup, and you'll find your wardrobe is quite complete." After lunch were lessons in diction, in acting, in etiquette. "You need to act as pretty and as dear as you look." The rest of the afternoon was free, time to rest and relax. "Then at night, well, if you are a good girl we'll go out to those special parties or to shows, oh we'll have just a fantastic time you, the girls and me."
"Now get up to bed, and pleasant dreams." she said wistfully, as if deep in thought. I began to relax thinking to myself, "This is great! Six months of dressing up, and I can go out a rich man." "Oh precious, one more thing before bedtime. Have one of the girls give you your vitamins." She drew out the "vitamins" slowly as if relishing the sound of the word. "Goodnight" I stepped up the stairs, found one of the girls waiting outside the door. "I guess we will be living together for a while." She nodded, smiled agreeably. "The woman downstairs wants you to give me my vitamins." She nodded again, her smile wider." Have you been with her long?" I asked. "Not long. Not much more than six months or so." She replied giving me still a wider grin. She was a pretty girl, full figured, with a dramatic face and short, lustrous blonde hair. "I plan to be here for six months." She nodded, smiling widely, her teeth white against her full red lips. "I thought so." She said mysteriously. "You'll enjoy your stay. I have, immensely." She smiled again, and her breath began to get ragged and uneven. Her eyes were bright and shiny. "Well, vitamins, and then sleep. This has been an unusual day, to say the very least." She nodded again, ran her tongue across her lips, and laughed lightly. She stared at me, trying to communicate something, some hidden secret to me. Her eyes then half closed, and she began to stroke lightly at her breasts, exposed from the tight garment. "Right, vitamins." she said caressing the word on her tongue "good old vitamins. I remember my first dose of vitamins. It was just more than 6 months ago." She took off her dress, her breasts full, her nipples erect.
"I just love vitamins. They are sooo good for you." She smiled again, remembering. "Well time for your first dose of vitamins." She told me to pull up my sleeve, and she went over to a cupboard, came back with a syringe. "Don't you worry a bit. I have a lot of practice with vitamin shots. You will too, soon." Then she slipped the needle, painlessly beneath the skin of my arm, and pushed the plunger down. I watched its contents disappear into my arm. "There that wasn't too bad. These are powerful vitamins. They work fast, and oh so well, don't you think?" she said cupping her breasts in her hands, laughing lightly.
"What sort of vitamins are they?" I asked, distracted by her erotic little dance. She was beathing fast now, beads of sweat glistening on her shapely chest. Her voice was low and sweet when she replied. "The very best kind there is. Premarin is one name for them. Estrogen is another. Have you heard of them before?" She looked at me long and hard, her eyes boring into mine. "No, can't say that I have." I replied starting to get excited now, as she sat close to me, her eyes half dilated. "Well, take my word for it, its the best there is. You'll love it, just you wait." I was confused; what was I waiting for. "You still don't understand, do you?" she said before kissing me slowly and passionately. I shook my head no. "Here let me help you understand." she took my hand in hers, placed it on one of her silky thighs, pulled it higher, and higher, until I felt a curious hard lump in her crotch. When I touched it, she shuddered, a moan low in her throat. She looked at me, kissed me slowly, like candy, pressed her firm naked breasts against my chest, entwined her shapely legs around mine, and moved her slender hand towards the now hardening lump in my own crotch. Suddenly I understood.