Carla had worked tirelessly to integrate the newcomers into the daily life of the town. The younger boys had all been successfully enrolled in the elementary school, where the former boys all got instruction in sewing and cooking, as well as their more academic studies, while the real girls concentrated on sports. The teenagers were at Stepton High School, cheering on the girls' sports teams, studying secretarial skills, and learning how to happily follow the lead of any real woman. The men were employed as maids, secretaries, housekeepers, and shop clerks. Two had married dommes who met them in Stepton and one--Elizabeth Bryant--had married the nanny who had lured him and his son to the town.
But there were still many in Stepton who had not met these new beauties and a number who were suspicious of anyone who had not been specifically brought to town and transformed by a resident. It's time, Carla thought, to show them exactly what I've accomplished.
The posters went up around town right after the New Year, inviting one and all to the First Annual Stepton Fashion Show and Beauty Pageant. Carla arranged for all 25 of the "volunteers" to appear as contestants.
*****
Antonia stared into the mirror in the backstage dressing room. Am I really pretty enough to be in a fashion show, let alone a beauty contest? she thought. At least those were her surface thoughts. Far below, where Anthony's psyche still resided, other questions begged for answers: How did I let myself get into this? Yes, I love to dress, I love to be Antonia--but how did I wind up as the feminized toy of a whole town full of dominant lesbians?
"You seem pensive, Antonia," Carla Weathers noted, walking up behind the transformed stock broker. Since her arrival and change, Antonia had been Carla's personal financial advisor, carefully watching over the town leader's investments, increasing her fortune until the Weathers interests virtually controlled everything of value in Stepton.
"I'm just worried that I won't please you by doing well in the pageant, Mistress Carla," Antonia replied.
"Nonsense--just your being in the show pleases me," Carla said. "Lend me your ears!" Instantly, Antonia returned to that receptive state where Carla's merest statement or suggestion became an unalterable command. "Anthony, I need to talk to you."
"I'm here, Carla." It was the first time anyone in Stepton had heard Anthony's male tones in months. "Haven't you done enough to me?"
"Not nearly enough," she laughed. "All I've done so far, really, is give you precisely what you wanted when you came to Stepton--the chance to live as a woman, to be accepted as a woman. Now, I'll give you something far more.
"When you walk out on that runway in a few moments, you will behave as the most outrageous of sexy models. You know the drill--strut, flirt, lead with the hips! At some point--and I have no intention of telling you when--you will get a signal from me as I tug on my ear. When I do that, you--Anthony--will once again be the controlling part of your mind...but you will find it impossible to move in anyway that doesn't scream 'Antonia' and you will be unable to respond except as Antonia. But all your sexual and emotional needs will be Anthony's."
Carla crossed her arms and grinned as she watched the look of consternation on her submissive's face. "Bury Caesar!" Instantly, Antonia's "normal" demeanor returned.
"Antonia, you're next," a voice called from the wings.
"Break a leg, darling," Carla said, smiling.
Antonia sashayed off, dressed in her first outfit, a white business suit with a plunging neckline that she wore without benefit of blouse or even camisole.
*****
Meanwhile, in another dressing room, Corinne, the former nanny, watched carefully as her two charges prepared for their own appearance in the show and pageant.
Both had come a long way since their introduction to Stepton society and the dominant plans of their employee. Elizabeth now wore her hair in a flattering platinum pageboy, her eyes done up dark and shadowy to contrast the brilliant silver of her hair. Ginny's hair had also been lightened to an ash blonde, cut in a trendy shag.
"On the carpet,," Corinne said, and a new light dawned in both Elizabeth and Ginny's eyes. The phrase returned their male psyches to control. "I wanted you to have one last opportunity to be yourselves," she told them, "and I wanted you to experience the final changes I have planned for you."
"Final changes?" Elliott exclaimed. He stared at himself--at his massive tits and narrow waist--in the mirror. "What more can you possibly have in mind?"
"You'll see, my darling. But let's take care of Ginny first, shall we?"
She turned to the teenaged girl who had once been Elliot Bryant's son Jimmy. "Ding-dong!" It was the trigger phrase that activated Ginny's feminizing implant. "Stand here for me, love," Corinne directed. "I think it's time to make you look a bit more like your 'dad'.
"Tits--35C. Don't want them too big, yet...you still have some growing to do." Ginny's breasts swelled, creating an impressive cleavage in the v-necked mini-dress she wore. "Lips--sexy pout." The girl's lips swelled as well, with the lower lip growing full and fat.
Corinne stepped back to observe her work. "Excellent!" She turned back to Elliott. "Now you, dear. Who's the boss?"
"You are," the transformed father replied. The trigger phrase had activated his implant. His male mind was still aware of everything around him, but his body was under Corinne's control.
"Stride--mince, mince," the former nanny announced. "Now, take a nice long step for me, Elliot." He tried, but discovered his legs would only move about six inches. "Yes, you'll mince about like a precious little pansy from now on, Elizabeth," Corinne explained. "Voice--Marilyn Monroe."
Elliot started to protest, loudly, but all that came out was a breathy whisper, filled with promises of sex and little girlish wonder: "Corinne, you're going too far--"
"Nonsense, Lizzie love," she interrupted. "I have every intention of having you win this little show. Break time." And Elliot's male psyche retreated, leaving only the breathy, mincing sex kitten Elizabeth behind.
The "father-son" team walked together to the wings, where they awaited their chance to show off.
*****
The pageant finalists stood on the stage, stripped to their bras and chemises, their identical black pencil skirts hindering their strides. Antonia, Elizabeth and Ginny were all among the five contestants left.
The mistress of ceremonies stepped to the mike and explained the final contest. "The winner will be chosen by the finalist who gives the best answer to the question: 'How can I best serve my mistress?'"
The first to answer was a tall, leggy blonde who had come to Stepton as a former basketball player and who now worked as a cocktail waitress. She gave a long rambling answer about becoming the best girl she could possibly be. When she finished, there was a smattering of applause.
Next was Ginny. "As a teenager, I can best serve my mistress by learning all I can about running a home, so that I can take over my parent's duties and leave her with more time to spend pleasuring my mistress." There was louder applause and a few offers from the audience to teach Ginny about pleasuring a mistress as well.
The third to answer was a petite redhead, who had a very hard time not giggling through her answer, clearly embarrassed at even the prospect of describing how she served her mistress. Laughter started to build almost as soon as she began, with some catcalls about putting making her other cheeks match the ones that blushed right now.
Fourth was Elizabeth. "I serve my mistress best by becoming whatever she wants me to be. I have become this simpering, mincing kitten because she wishes it, and I willingly accept any other changes she might request."
Very loud applause followed. Clearly, this was the most popular answer yet.
The final response came from Antonia...but Carla (who had, after all, prepared the question) had a trick up her sleeve. "How can you best serve your mistress?" the emcee asked…and Antonia heard clearly the trigger phrase Carla had implanted earlier that day.
Instantly, Antonia sank to her knees and put her head under the emcee's skirt. She buried her face in the astonished emcee's privates, tearing away her panties and bringing extreme pleasure to her clit and pussy. In moments, the startled announcer was gasping in the throes of her orgasm, "Ladies, we have a winner! I present to you the first 'Miss Stepton Volunteer!'"
THE END
1 comment:
Anyone else think that the contest could have uses a Swimsuit section?
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