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.