The party was in full swing. Angela had arranged for the celebration in honor of the signing of Howard Electronics as a client for Venus Force at her own penthouse apartment. And she had invited not only the top ad buyers from all the networks and national magazines, but also her own circle of friends from the city's dominant lesbian community.
She looked across the room. Yes, there were Jennifer and Susan, with their respective hypnotically transformed submissives, Dani and Tammy. And the party was filled with many other dommes, many of whom seemed to have latched on to one of the ad execs. "Good," thought Angela. "The more we control the industry, the easier time we'll all have of it."
Angela herself had dressed in a halter-necked black column gown, with her blonde hair cropped short, and her makeup dramatically intense. She had put Stephanie into her teenage tease mode, in a short flared blue skirt, a black blouse tied off to reveal her midriff, bare legs and white sandals with spike heels. Many of the men in the room seemed drawn to the "girl" in their midst. Angela laughed at them trying to break Stephanie's "lesbian" indoctrination.
At a desk in the center of the room was displayed the Venus Force-designed campaign for Howard Electronics, and the contract. Pens were arranged for both Angela and Carl Howard to sign the documents. But there was a tense whisper that circulated through the room: "Where was Carl Howard?" Had he backed out?
But Angela seemed unconcerned. She stepped up to the temporary stage and spoke to the crowd. "Before we get on with the central ceremony of the evening, we have some entertainment. Many of you know of my interest in hypnosis, so I've invited a friend to give us a demonstration." She extended her hand and Jennifer came to the front of the crowd.
"Thank you, Angela," Jennifer began. She scanned the crowd, then picked out a couple. "Dorothy--I see you've made a new friend this evening," she said to the woman, who was standing with her arm around Irv Marshall, the chief ad buyer for the country's biggest newsmagazine. "Think you could convince your friend to volunteer for this?"
Dorothy whispered in Irv's ear and, blushing, he agreed, striding to the stage with Dorothy at his side. Jennifer took his hands in hers and began speaking softly to him, gradually inducing a hypnotic trance. The audience watched spellbound as his head began to droop onto his chest. Then Jennifer snapped her fingers and his eyes popped open, seemingly alert.
"Oh, he's still under," Jennifer assured them. "It's just easier to do this while they can move somewhat on their own." She turned to Dorothy. "Any ideas?" Dorothy whispered to her. "I thought so."
In short order, Jennifer had the mesmerized man stripped to his
shorts...then gave him cover while he swapped them for a pair of pink satin panties. A matching bra followed. Then she allowed him to redress in his suit. Dorothy assisted in adding a full coating of makeup. "Now, Irv, you will be completely unaware of the changes we have made just now...unless Dorothy or I say lingerie and lipstick to you. Then you will know that you are partially cross-dressed and you will answer only to the name Irene. And you will act accordingly--like a sophisticated flirt."
Moments later, Jennifer awakened Irv and held a mirror to his face. He had no reaction. "Tell me, Irv," Dorothy asked, "do you like lingerie and lipstick?"
Instantly, his whole demeanor changed. His hands fluttered, his lashes batted, and he answered in a breathy contralto, "Of course, I do, Dorothy. Why else would I dress this way? And my name is Irene--you know that!"
The audience laughed as Dorothy led her feminized companion away, all of them still unaware of how many might face the same fate if they continued their relationships with the companions of the evening.
Throughout all this, few had noticed the attractive maid who had served and flirted with them all night. The girl's outfit was a black vinyl dress over short stiff white petticoats, accessorized with a white apron, gloves and a lacy cap set in her long strawberry curls. Her legs were in white knee-high stockings with lacy frills at the top and perched on black patent pumps with ankle straps and six-inch heels.
But now Angela moved to the desk with the contract. "It's time for the final moment of our celebration," she said. "Coral, will you come here, please?"
The maid moved to the desk. "Switch on," Angela said. The maid stumbled for a moment in her heels and then said in the rich tenor all the party-goers recognized as Carl Howard's, "Yes, mistress?"
"It's time to sign the contract, Carl." Angela handed him the pen. He signed, and then Angela did the same. Those among the attendees who were not in on the joke gasped. This was Carl Howard?
"I have one more surprise for you, Carl," Angela announced, gesturing to a doorway that led to the bedrooms of the penthouse. In that doorway stood a tall female figure, clad in shining black leather, her red hair in a chin-length pageboy. She grinned, her dark red lips stretching over her white teeth.
"Kristine?" Carl was aghast--it was his wife! Much changed, but definitely his wife!
"I informed Kristine of your little 'hobby' as soon as I discovered it, Carl darling," Angela informed him. "I've taught her all the little things she'll need to make you happy in your new life together."
Kristine walked up to her feminized husband. "I'll be taking over control of the company as soon as we finalize the papers, dear. Switch off!"
And the maid minced off with her partner, as Angela picked up the signed contract and slid it into her purse.
THE END
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