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.