Monday, April 28, 2014

Magic Transformation


As we strode out of the beauty salon (well, Mistress Samantha strode, I rather minced), I sensed male heads turning all around us. I couldn't be sure if they were looking at me, Mistress Samantha or both of us. The mistress merely smiled at the attention and whispered to me, "Smile, Carol dear, act as if you appreciate the lustful looks you're getting--now!"

Once again, my body betrayed my psyche, as Mistress Samantha's magic spell forced me to smile in recognition of the male attention we received. Even more, I found myself wiggling my ass as well. If Mistress Samantha wanted to turn me into a cock-tease in my feminine form, she was succeeding.

She took me by the arm and led me into one of the restaurants in the mall. The hostess, though she greeted us warmly, was obviously envious of our sexy appearance. She primly led us to a table in the back. A short time later, our waiter, a cute college-aged kid, took our drink orders. He smiled broadly at both of us, but seemed to pay special attention to me. Still under the influence of Mistress Samantha's last command, I hiked up my already short denim skirt, revealing the white skin and garters above my stocking tops and swung sideways in my seat, so that my long legs were completely visible to him, my feet tucked demurely under my chair.

When he returned with our drinks--scotch and soda for the mistress, Perrier for me--his eyes nearly popped out of his head. Our little flirtation continued all the way through lunch. I was deeply afraid that Mistress Samantha would order me to take the relationship a few steps further but, fortunately, she merely paid the check when the waiter brought it and we sashayed out of the restaurant.

Mistress Samantha steered me into the biggest department store in the mall and headed straight for the juniors department. I stood there, surrounded by the kickiest, hippest clothing in the place--flirty miniskirts, off-the-shoulder blouses, party dresses in taffeta with flounces, short skirts and strapless bodices. The closeness of so much feminine apparel--the center of so many of my fantasies--put my cock on the rise again.

The mistress pulled three items off the rack: a bright red business suit in silk, with a boxy jacket and short skirt; a spandex exercise outfit intended to cling to my every spell-created curve; and a black-and-white party dress, with a ruffled miniskirt over petticoats and a strapless bodice. We took all three into a dressing room.

Mistress Samantha instructed me to strip down to my lingerie while she went to gather up the proper accessories. She returned a few moments later, arms laden with lingerie, jewelry, shoes and the like.

"Let's try the exercise outfit, first, Carol," she said. I took off all my lingerie except the panties as she ordered. Mistress Samantha handed me an exercise bra which I fumblingly got on. Then came the exercise outfit itself: a leotard with deep cleavage and high-cut leg openings, spandex tights, and aerobics shoes--all in bright pink. The mistress then helped me get into the matching leg warmers and sweat band. I turned to the mirror.

Once again, the tall coltish girl I had become stared back at me--now ready for a session at the health club. Mistress Samantha poked me in the side. "Still a little chubby, there, Carol. Looks like we'll make good use of this outfit," she chuckled.

As I stripped off the spandex, Mistress Samantha sorted through the accessories to find the proper lingerie for my next try-on, the business suit. Once again, I left the panties on and started to rehook my original bra, but she stopped me. "No, Carol, I have a different set of lingerie for this outfit. Take off those panties and bra."

I hesitated. We were in the dressing room of the women's department in a major department store. Despite my outward appearance I was still a man, with a man's "equipment" at my crotch. What if someone should walk in unexpectedly? The excitement and humiliation (and I wasn't sure which had the greater effect) had caused my cock to become engorged again.

"Carol," Mistress Samantha demanded, "What are you waiting for? Get those panties off--now!"

The spell had the effect I had come to know so well in such a few short hours. Almost of their own volition, my hands fairly ripped the white satin tap panties off my hips. To replace them, Mistress Samantha handed me a similar pair in black, topped by a matching black camisole trimmed with lace at the bodice. Once they were in place, the mistress handed me the skirt and jacket of the bright red silk suit.

I was startled again, but knew enough not to hesitate this time. Still, I had to ask. "Mistress, shouldn't I be wearing a blouse and slip with this?"

"A business woman might," she replied. "But you're just pretending, aren't you? You're just a coltish young girl who likes to dress up in fine things and show off. Well, you're going to show off your boobs and your panties if I want you to--and I do!"

Once the skirt was on, Mistress Samantha aided me in putting on the black sheer stockings she had chosen to go with the suit, as well as the red patent-leather pumps with the six-inch heels. Onto my ears she clipped bold button earrings in gold, followed by a matching choker-style necklace and a heavy gold bracelet. She knelt for a moment at my feet and hooked a another heavy gold chain around my ankle. Standing, she posed me before the mirror.

"Wonderful," she exclaimed. "Later, we'll have to get your ears pierced, Carol. But the choker is great--it looks almost like a collar, doesn't it? And the bracelets on your arm and ankle--they could be slave bracelets, couldn't they, Carol dear?" As she made these comments, Mistress Samantha brushed her hand over the front of my skirt, feeling my cock rise.

Yes! I wanted the jewelry to be just what she described--emblems of my transformed enslavement to Mistress Samantha. How well she knew me!

The girl in the mirror now looked more sophisticated, yet just as sexy as she did in the exercise outfit. The deep cut opening of the red jacket showed the rounded tops of my boobs above a hint of the black lace on my chemise. The higher heels and the sleek black stockings made my legs look longer and more enticing.

"Lean over and touch your knees, Carol," Mistress Samantha suggested. I did so--and my breasts nearly popped out of the jacket. "Stay there," she commanded, "I want you to see just how sexy you look like this." She reached under my skirt from behind me, and massaged my ass. Spreading my cheeks, she inserted something (I couldn't tell what) into my asshole.

A moment later, I knew exactly what the mistress had thrust into my rear, as the vibrating of the dildo sent shivers through my whole body. Now Mistress Samantha stood up and reached into the front of my jacket, taking my boobs into her hands, playing with the nipples, arousing me even further. As I felt certain I would come, right there in the dressing room--and even wished for it, desperately--she stopped her foreplay and turned off the dildo's motor with her remote control.

"I just wanted you to realize how much control I have over you, dear," she whispered, smiling. "We'll leave my little toy inside you for now, while you try on the last of your new clothes."

Moments later, I was wearing that kicky little party dress. Beneath it, Mistress Samantha had laced me into a crushingly tight corset that took five inches off my waistline--giving me about a 36-19-36 figure. The petticoats off the dress teased my thighs, while my legs, still in the sheer black stockings but now perched on six-inch-heeled black pumps were revealed almost to my garters. My boobs again threatened to spill out of the strapless top. A large black velvet bow was pinned to my hair, sparkling rhinestones hung from my ears, with a matching choker necklace around my neck. The gold "slave" bracelets remained on my wrist and ankle.

"That dress was made for dancing, Carol," Mistress Samantha observed. "Dance for me--now!" At once, my body, forced to obey a will other than my own by the mistress's magic, began to move sensuously to a beat it alone heard. As my movements became more erotic, Mistress Samantha turned on the dildo again, so that the vibrating pleasure in my ass added to my excitement. The more I moved, the more excited I became!

I turned toward her, my need for release clear in my begging eyes. "Very well, Carol, you may come," she said, pausing for effect, "now!"

We returned to Mistress Samantha's apartment and put all my new clothes into the closet she kept there for me. The rest of the weekend was spent in exploring new ways for me to experience my transformed body.

Monday morning came all too soon. "Well, Carol, it's time to return to being Carl," Mistress Samantha told me. She instructed me to stand once again in the center of the pentagram. She donned her black robe and read again from the book.

Once again I could feel the tingling all over my body, once again a glow formed around me, this time taking the shape of my masculine self. Moments later, I looked down at myself and I could see I was Carl again.

But Carl with a difference--my nails were still shaped and painted red in a feminine style. I turned to the mirror--my hair was still frosted gold and my eyebrows were still trimmed into a feminine arch!

"Mistress," I cried, "I can't go back to work looking like this."

"I'm afraid you've no choice, Carl," she replied. "Didn't I tell you? The spell reversal doesn't affect anything done to you physically while you were transformed. You're stuck with the frosted hair and arched eyebrows until they grow out--if I ever let you do that.

"Oh, and a few other things the spell reversal didn't do. The submissive command spell is still active, and I can recreate Carol anytime I want with a simple two-word incantation," she gloated. I looked at her in disbelief. "Yes, Carl," she nodded, "I can make you do anything I want--and become Carol anytime I want her.

"So, before you leave for work, on your knees and satisfy me--now!"

To be continued

[Don't forget to pick the man you'd love to see feminized (details here)!]

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