In ten years as a secret crossdresser, Anthony had seen hundreds of ads for services for transvestites, everything from makeovers to full-dress weekends, but nothing had prepared him for the ad he found surfing the net that afternoon. It was a website for a town called Stepton, that promoted itself as "the town that loves women--no matter their gender!" It promised a home for any TV who wished to experience life full-time as a woman, complete with a job.
Anthony had been unhappy and unfulfilled for many years, unable to fully express himself in his position as a stockbroker, masquerading as Antonia only on occasional weekends, fantasizing about living as and relating to other women as a woman himself. On impulse, he followed the links to Stepton's application page and filled out the form.
A week later, he got an e-mail, inviting him--or rather Antonia--to come for a weekend visit to Stepton. He quickly packed his bags, made arrangements, and was on his way to the small suburban town that Friday evening.
He stepped off the train about 9 PM and immediately marveled. There wasn't a male--except for himself--in sight. The station master, the cab drivers, the people waiting to board the train or meet passengers, were all female...or at least appeared to be so, he reminded himself. Many of them were likely to be, like Anthony, male under their feminine guises.
Anthony did notice that there appeared to be two basic types of women in the town. The first were almost preternaturally feminine, almost cliched in their girlishness: They wore the frilliest of dresses or skirts, in lace or flowered prints, flowing and rustling. They had on sexy heels, often sandals, and their makeup made them seem both virginal and appealing. The second type were equally as beautiful, but in a more forceful manner: Most wore leather, and those that didn't still affected a severe business-like look--straight, short skirts and fitted jackets. They, too, wore high heels, but only pumps or boots, and their makeup emphasized a commanding nature.
As he set down his suitcase, one of the more feminine creatures approached him. She minced up to him in her white sandals with five-inch heels, her petticoats rustling under her full skirt. She smiled at him, dazzlingly, and asked, "Anthony?"
He was startled for a moment that she knew who he was...then realized. "Oh, of course, I must stick out like a sore thumb around here. Yes, I'm Anthony...and you are?" he asked, extending his hand.\
She took it gently in her own soft clutch and he noticed--with a kind of longing--the graceful curve of her coral-polished nails. "I'm Marcia. I work as an assistant to Miss Carla Weathers in our recruitment program. She sent me to meet you...though I must say we were all hoping you'd travel as Antonia."
"I'm afraid I simply don't have the courage to do that," Anthony laughed.
"That will change," Marcia noted. She helped him into the rear seat of the limo and, as he climbed in, pressed a small gun-like device to the back of his neck. There was a quiet "whoosh" and as Anthony sank into the seat, his mind went completely blank.
Marcia picked up the car phone and hit a speed-dial number. "Mistress Carla? Yes, I have him and the implant has already been injected. We should be at the salon within five minutes.
*****
"Wake up, Anthony," the calm voice commanded, and the fog lifted from Anthony's brain. As it did, he realized he was bound, his arms and legs tightly strapped to the beauty salon chair he sat in. Before him stood a vision in red leather.
"What's going on here?" he asked.
"We're simply following through on your contract, Antonia darling," the leather-clad woman responded. "But forgive my manners, I'm Carla Weathers--Mistress Carla to you."
"What contract--I didn't sign any contract," Anthony protested, "and certainly not one that would allow you to kidnap me!"
"Oh, but you did," Carla said. She produced a laptop computer and put a form on the screen--the very form Anthony had filled out on line. "This form includes the following words: I give the authorities of the town of Stepton full permission to do whatever is necessary to find me employment and housing in the town.
"What's necessary, my dear, is to make you one of our lovely feminized slaves--as all men who live in Stepton must be," Carla smiled. She turned to the staff, which Anthony realized must all be controlled crossdressers. "Let's get on with it, dearies!"
As the salon employees began their work, Carla explained. "You see, Stepton was founded some twenty years ago by a group of women with a background in lesbian activity and dominant feminism. We began by simply outwardly converting our husbands and boyfriends into simpering sissies by 'conventional' methods. Then I developed the original model of the implant that now resides at the base of your cortex. It provides us with a way to create a completely pliant and feminine personality in any male--and we have since recruited many like-minded women who have brought their husbands, boyfriends, and sons to Stepton to be transformed into our lesbian lovers and servants.
"But recently," she continued, "we realized that the growing number of younger women in our town required transformed slaves of their own--a need that simply converting the boys born in Stepton wouldn't fulfill--so we began our advertising campaign.
"And here you are!"
By this time, the "girls" working on Anthony were finished, and they swung his chair around so that he could see himself in the mirror. He was astounded--despite years of dressing, Anthony had no idea that he could ever be so beautiful. He was almost lost in the image and the prospect of living this way full time--until he recalled Carla's description of the feminized men of Stepton--"slaves and servants".
"Do you really think you can get away with this? I have friends in my old home town--they'll wonder what happened to me!" he declared.
"No, they won't," Carla replied. "Once we have you under our control, we'll simply have you arrange to have all your belongings shipped here--where we will destroy them, of course--and then have you contact your friends with your new address. In time, you will tell them of your new identity and desires...by which time you will be so completely the lovely and compliant Antonia, there will be nothing they can do to change things, anyway!"
She looked him right in the eye and said, "Lend me your
ears!"
Instantly, all Anthony's attention was rivetted on Carla. "That is your trigger phrase. Whenever you hear it, you will immediately be placed in this receptive mode, to receive instructions and programming as to your life as Antonia in Stepton." She gestured to the attendants. "Release him--there's nothing he can do to stop us." They unstrapped him from the chair. "Stand." Without his willing it, Anthony rose to his feet.
"We've made some major advances in the implants in recent months, Antonia darling. You will be the first to experience what Stepton Implant V2.0 can accomplish," Carla said.
"Tits--35C," she announced. Anthony felt an odd swelling in his chest and realized that--astonishingly--his chest was expanding into a pair of lovely female breasts. Carla smiled at the shock on his face. "Oh yes, we recently discovered that certain superficial changes can be made to the human body when the proper electrical impulses are sent to certain brain centers.
"Waist--23." Anthony felt a crushing sensation as his waist shrunk to that dimension, pushing certain of his inner organs to new configurations. His eyes widened. "Oh, I know what you're afraid of," Carla said, smiling. "No--we can't completely eliminate any organ, nor would we wish to. Most of us--lesbians though we may be--have grown quite fond of the ability to manipulate a feminized cock!
"Hips--34." And, again, Anthony felt his body alter to match the description Carla supplied. He looked at himself in the mirror. Only his genitals told of his truly male identity...and, shamefully, his cock was at full attention.
"Dress her." With that command, Carla turned and walked from the room, leaving her assistants to the task of placing Anthony into the feminine finery that would eventually seal his fate as Antonia. Bra, panties, garter belt, nylons, a satin blouse and a black miniskirt made him look youthful and sexy. Carla returned just as they were placing the pumps with six-inch heels on his feet.
"Excellent," she proclaimed. "One last physical touch. Legs--heels off the floor." Anthony felt the muscles in his calves tighten and shorten. "Now, you're just like a little Barbie doll, Antonia darling--you can't wear anything except high heels, ever!"
Carla moved to a console by the wall and flipped a switch. "Your implant is now receiving the details of your feminine personality. Within six months, we will be using you, Antonia, as our representative to the world, bringing more unsuspecting TVs like yourself to our community!"
*****
"And now, from Stepton, here is Antonia!"
Sally Jesse stepped aside as the elegantly dressed young woman came out from backstage. Her cocktail dress showed off her figure and her slim shapely legs. She moved with grace.
"Yes, folks, Antonia is really a man...but she has been living full time as a woman in Stepton for the past six months. She's here to explain how the town has accepted her and is ready to accept any crossdresser who is ready to live by its rules of complete femininity!"
In the wings, Carla smiled. Yes, Antonia was the perfect bait...soon, many more like her would volunteer to come to Stepton--and join the town of perfect male lesbian lovers!
More to come
1 comment:
Where do I sign up? {G}
Lovely writing, as always!
SissyNYC
femme@feelings.com
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