The Spy Who Dragged Me, Chapter Two

Over the next month, Belinda grew more accustomed to her new self...but still worried over what plans Professor Fabricantfille and her mysterious organization had for her. Whatever they were, if they included using any of her male self's skills and abilities, she would find them unaltered.

She remained a master linguist, fluent in nearly all the languages of Europe, as well as several Asian tongues. Her fighting abilities, though reduced somewhat by the weight-loss program she'd been made to undergo, were still phenomenal. And she was still a crack shot, with handgun, rifle, crossbow or any other form of firearm.

In fact, other than her physical appearance, the only change seemed to be in her favored style of dress, as well as her attitude toward women. Bellows had been considered something of a "cocksman," dominating the women he deigned to spend time with, dumping them quickly if they became too attached. But Belinda was completely submissive to nearly any woman she met and had developed a hopeless crush on the professor...a crush the professor used to control her, granting her access only when some new concession was needed.

And her clothes! Belinda felt absolutely awful in anything except the shortest of skirts, the highest of heels! She quickly learned how to handle herself in both social and professional circumstances in the tight-fitting outfits the professor gave her to wear. More over, the professor seemed to delight in amorous public displays, displays that invariably resulted in Belinda's pussy-cock (the term she had been taught to use) becoming inescapably noticeable. Even worse, the very humiliation of these displays only aroused Belinda more. She began to seek them out, which only heightened her attachment to her transformer!

Belinda had begun to think she had merely been created to be Professor Fabricant's own little plaything. Then, one evening, she was summoned to the professor's laboratory. It was empty, but the professor's voice seemed to radiate from the very walls.

"Bon soir, ma petite! The time has come for your first mission. Direct your attention to the screen on your right." Belinda turned as a large flat-screen TV came to life, showing a picture of a handsome middle-aged man. "This is Alexei Menerov, the prime minister of Alkzakhstan, one of the tiny central Asian republics created when the Soviet Union collapsed. Garcons comme Filles has been hired to make him more, shall we say, amenable to certain entreaties being made to his government.

"Our job--your job--will be to capture and remake Mr. Menerov as you have been remade...but with somewhat more subtlety. He will be feminized, but only in private; he will be submissive to our control, but only when we trigger his submission."

Despite the overwhelming desire she had to please the woman she had come to know as her mistress, Belinda turned away from the screen. "I could never do that!" she cried.

The screen and the room went dark. Belinda heard a door open and then a spotlight flashed on, a spotlight that focused her attention on the professor. Professor Fabricant wore a black latex gown, cut to reveal her glamorous legs on their six-inch heels, with a keyhole cut out over her massive breasts...where the all-important violet stone rested once more.

Belinda could no longer turn away. "Ma petite jeunne fille," said the professor, and Belinda fell once more into trance. "It is time for new instructions. Being feminine yourself is no longer sufficient for your sexual happiness. You now wish to transform others like you, ma petite. Seeing another male made into a feminized plaything of women arouses you as nothing else could. You will eagerly accept any assignment that permits you to feminize a male under my direction." She covered the jewel...and Belinda awoke from her trance.

"Oh, professor," the once-male spy sighed. "Mr. Menerov will make a beautiful sissy for us to play with!"

More to come