"Thank you for coming," she said, smiling at the pretense that he had any choice. She gestured to the clothing laid out on the bed. "Why don't you change?" she asked.
Clark stripped out of his male clothes and picked up the lacy white panties. As he pulled them up around his loins, he wiggled his ass in a sexy, feminine manner. Then came the matching garter belt. He hooked it around his waist, and slid his hands down his sides, feeling the slimness of his body. Next were stockings, also white, with delicate clocking at the ankles. Again his hands reveled in the sleekness of his feminized legs. They were followed by white patent pumps with six-inch heels, thrusting his hips forward and turning his stride into a mincing walk. He picked up the bra that matched the panties and garter belt, padded to a 36C cup, and hooked it around his chest. He cupped his "breasts" from underneath and played with the artificial nipples as if they were real.
Now Miranda handed him a white cocktail dress, with a daring hemline that merely grazed his stocking tops. He slipped it on. She guided him to the dressing table, where under her advisings, he painted his face carefully, bringing out the most feminine of his features. With the bright red lipstick in place, Miranda looked him in the eye and said, "Are you almost ready?"
His voice was again breathy, feminine and sexual. "Yes, Mistress Miranda. I am ready."
"Then stand." He stood, not wobbling at all in the skyscraper heels. Again, as at the show the day before, Miranda moved her hand before his face, from chin to forehead, and his glazed eyes brightened. "How do you feel, Clare?"
"I feel wonderful, Mistress," the transformed man responded. "Thank you for giving me this."
"I love doing it," she said. "The moment I first hypnotized you before the show last night, I knew you were one of that small group of men who would love becoming a woman in appearance. I was right, wasn't I?"
"Yes, Mistress," Clare answered.
"Excellent," Miranda exclaimed. She lounged on the couch and raised her skirt, revealing her naked pussy. "Now come here, I have much to teach you."
*****
Some hours later, Miranda explained more of her life to Clare. "I not only perform at the club," she said, "but I also assist men and women with transformations like yours. However, not all of my subjects are as happy with their changes as you are. One of those is coming this afternoon--I want you to watch."
She led the cross-dressed man to a small room next to her office. A large window seemed to look in on the office. "This is a one-way mirror--from the other side, it merely reflects. You'll be able to see and hear everything we do there. I'm sure you'll find it somewhat arousing."
She walked out of the secret room and Clare saw her enter the office, accompanied by an attractive woman and a somewhat cowed man. "Now--you're sure this is what you want, Laura?" Miranda asked.
"Absolutely!" the woman affirmed. "The judge said I could get any treatment for Patrick that I wanted...and when I saw your show a few weeks ago, I knew what his punishment had to be!"
"Very well." Miranda moved to her desk and lifted a jeweled pendant from a display case. She dangled it from the chain and approached Patrick. "Isn't this a lovely thing, Patrick?" she asked. She started it spinning and moved it like a pendulum before his eyes. "See how it glitters in the light? You can hardly take your eyes off it, can you?"
Patrick, already half-captured by Miranda's spell, silently shook his head, his eyes never leaving the pendant. In moments, he was completely entranced.
"Laura, the clothing you requested is in the closet beside the mirror," Miranda advised. Laura moved to the left, out of Clare's vision, and came back with a mass of pink and white satin in her arms. In the meantime, Miranda had stripped Patrick completely out of his male clothes. Without wasting any time, the two women soon had the hapless husband in a well-padded pink bra, a matching garter belt and panties. Long black seamed stockings were drawn up his hairless legs. A froth of several white petticoats came rustling down over it all, followed by the incredibly short pink satin dress of a maid, completely with apron and cap. Black patent pumps with six-inch heels were placed on his feet.As he sat unseeing, they made up his face, bringing out his eyes with shadow, eyeliner and mascara; highlighting his cheeks with blush, making his lips look soft and kissable with coral lipstick. Upon his head was settled a blonde pageboy wig.
Miranda ordered the transformed man to stand. "Now, listen carefully: There is no Patrick. There is only Trish, the devoted maid. Trish will do anything Laura asks of her--chores domestic and erotic. Only one thing will return Patrick to reality--when Laura says, Are you happy, Patrick? every memory of your life as Trish will be yours and you will report how you feel in your new role."
She turned to Laura. "Is this what you wanted?"
"Oh, yes, Miranda, she's beautiful!" Laura gushed.
"Very well." Miranda turned again to the newly created Trish. "Trish, walk to Laura. I want you to kiss her deeply and passionately...and when the kiss breaks, you will awaken as the submissive maid, until Laura or I break the spell."
Behind the secret window, Clare could barely contain herself. As the lovely maid minced to her new mistress, she found her hands straying to her own crotch and nipples. As Laura and Trish mashed their reddened lips together, she shuddered, remembering her own lovemaking with Miranda.
Laura pulled away from Trish, almost reluctantly. Instantly, Trish performed a neat curtsey and asked, "How else may I serve, Miss Laura?"
"We'll let that wait until we get home, I think, Trish dearest." She turned to Miranda and pressed a check into her hands. "Thank you so much."
"Enjoy her, Laura--she is precious." With that, Miranda escorted the couple out, then returned to Clare in the secret room, unsurprised to find her own special subject in such an aroused state.
"I thought you'd enjoy that," she smiled. "Tomorrow, we'll meet one of my more voluntary clients."
More to come
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