A Couple Transformed, Part Two

Robert’s First Week

Robert eased himself into a comfortable upright position on the bed. He was now getting used to his routine and the regular visits of the beautician, though unwelcome, were a brief respite from his loneliness. She had promised him a treat that afternoon and he was looking forward to taking his first steps away from the isolation of his room, the room that had been his prison for the preceding seven days. He unconsciously tidied his hair, now a smart blond bob somehow bleached and styled during his first few hours at the clinic. His hair had been one of many changes that had been accomplished during the early part of his stay. His lips were fuller than he remembered, too; probably the result of collagen injections rather than the drugs they gave him through the intravenous line that fed into his strangely emaciated arms. After the shock of seeing himself in Julia’s mirror that first day when he woke, he had slowly adjusted to the rigors of his unwilling transformation. He had little choice. The doctors had made it very clear what would happen to Julia if he dared to resist, so he had slowly grown accustomed to the gradual metamorphosis of his body.

His waist was definitely much smaller than it had been before and, judging by the fullness of the flowing silk gown he now wore for much of the day, his chest was developing too. Robert tried not to worry too much about it, but concentrated instead on preparing himself for his ‘surprise’. He no longer needed to shave prior to the beautician’s visit; whatever drugs were being administered to him seemed to have made the skin of his arms, legs and chest completely smooth. His face was changing too, the rugged shape of his masculine physiology slowly giving way to the softer and more rounded curves of a pretty young woman. He actually smiled as he ran a well-manicured nail along the frosted highlights of his cheeks, now more prominent and far more attractive than they had ever been before.

There was a gentle knock on the door, the sound of a key being turned and then the slight frame of his beautician came into view.

"How are you today, Roberta?" she said kindly.

"I’m fine," he responded, unselfconsciously responding to the name they had given him shortly after Julia’s first visit. "I’m looking forward to my surprise."

The woman did not answer but began laying out her cosmetics with her customary efficiency. After an hour or so, Robert’s makeup was complete and he turned to admire himself in his dressing table mirror. He had quickly learned that vanity was something expected of him in the clinic.

"I’ve plucked your eyebrows rather more severely that you’ve been used to," the beautician explained, "and put on a little more makeup than we’ve done before. I hope you like it. It’s especially important that you look your best as it’s been decided that you’re going to dress for the first time today and, seeing as you’re going to be wearing such beautiful clothes, it seemed only right and proper that we make you as pretty as we can."

Robert stiffened imperceptibly in his chair. He had not been expecting such startling news.

"I’m not sure…" he began hesitantly. "I mean… It’s not like I’m a real transsexual or anything. What if I don’t want to?"

The woman laughed gently. "They said you might be difficult about this," she said softly. "But I’m sure you’d like to see how Julia’s getting on and this is the only way you’ll be allowed out to see her."

Robert could barely contain his excitement at the prospect of seeing his fiancée again and, by the time his beautician had thrown some clothes and boxes on the bed, he was already feeling much more accommodating. The assistant busied herself opening some of the packages she had just laid out.

"Your breasts are growing quite nicely," she complimented him with genuine warmth as he slipped out of his robe. "But, if you’re going to look properly feminine, you’ll need a little help in that department for a little while longer."

Robert stared at the flesh-colored orbs she placed in his outstretched hands.

"Silicone," she explained. "Very expensive and fortunately very realistic. I just need to put some surgical glue on your chest, apply some foundation and powder and no one would ever know they’re not the real thing."

Half an hour later, Robert could only stare in amazement at the incredibly lifelike cleavage that bobbed enticingly beneath the flickering nervousness of his long false lashes. He moved slowly, testing their weight, enjoying the way his new breasts rose and fell in a pert harmony with every breath. He was so overcome with surprise, he barely registered the red silk of his first corset being sealed around his waist and the slow containment of elaborate lacing being used to reduce his waist to suitably feminine proportions. In the mirror, the silicone hemispheres of his bust moved increasingly upwards as his waist virtually disappeared beneath a tight sheath of sheer red fabric. He was so excited, both by the radical feminization of his body and the prospect of seeing Julia again, he barely registered the five-inch stiletto heels of the sandals he was now expected to wear. As he rose unsteadily in the unfamiliar footwear, he could not help but admire the soft black netting of his first dress as it clung to his smooth white skin.

Now ready for his first hour of freedom and desperately impatient to see his fiancée again, Robert followed the woman who had been the agent of his recent transformation from the room. Apart from a slight hesitancy in his gait, not unexpected given the elevation of his heels, Robert looked every inch a glamorous young woman. He smiled as he took one last lingering look at himself in the mirror and smiled at his incredible transformation. He would accept anything to be allowed to see Julia again, even if it meant every day moving further and further away from his previous masculinity. Anyway, it wasn’t so bad; at least he was beautiful and he certainly felt okay. In fact, he hadn’t felt quite so good in ages.

Julia’s First Week

It came as quite a surprise when Robert did finally get to see Julia. He was ushered into a darkened room and told to be very quiet. A young man, probably a doctor Robert thought to himself, rose immediately to offer him a seat and Robert blushed at this unexpected treat. He could barely believe that other men might actually find him attractive. The thought worried him slightly, but he was certainly getting a great deal of attention since his most recent make-over and it didn’t seem to matter to anyone else in the room that he wasn’t actually a real woman. He smiled and sat down.

As Robert placed himself as gracefully as he could in the comfortable leather chair, the lights went on through what appeared to be a one-way mirror and he gasped as he saw Julia for the first time. She was virtually naked apart from a series of chains and leather cuffs. She was clearly not a willing participant in this bondage session and Robert winced silently as he saw his friend struggle. Julia had seen another woman enter the room and she hissed at this stranger. Despite the other woman’s outlandish clothes, more reminiscent of a professional dominatrix than anything else, Julia clearly knew her very well indeed.

"You won’t win," Robert heard Julia cry through the muffling glass. "You won’t make me enjoy doing this. I hate you and I hate these clothes you make me wear. You can’t change me into one of you…"

Julia’s voice tailed off as the stranger simply smiled, holding up a syringe in front of her victim’s pleading eyes.

"No. Please, no," Julia begged. "You know how much…"

The raven-haired domina laughed gently. "Not only will you dress as I tell you to dress," she said quietly, "after today’s session, you will be happy to do it. You will soon need to wear rubber and high heels as much as you need this drug I’m holding and, once you’ve taken to dressing more appropriately, like the slut that you are, we’re going to expand your sexual horizons a little too, my little virgin princess."

Robert could only watch in horror as it began. First the teasing as the dominatrix caressed his fiancée’s body, learning the idiosyncrasies of her victim’s sensitivities, memorizing the movements and fleeting touches which clearly affected Julia more than she would have wished. After this came Julia’s pain as her beautiful tormentor forced her to respond to the skilful manipulation of her body by alternate periods of discomfort and pleasure. Julia’s resistance crumbled during these fleeting moments of tenderness as she slowly began to anticipate these periods of relief. Robert turned away in disgust, horrified by what he saw but at the same time he was completely transfixed by the subtle changes in Julia’s movements. He glanced up once again, peering at the strange scene through his thick lashes. Finally, the tableaux reached its awful conclusion.

The dominatrix paused for a moment, watching her victim, collared and now obviously defeated, struggling with the last of her doubts. Through tearstained eyes, Robert simply gazed in silence as his beautiful girlfriend panted in exhausted desolation, the chains around her wrists and throat clanking audibly as she breathed in deeply. To Robert, Julia’s breath sounded more like a sigh than anything else and Robert’s worst fears were confirmed as the raven-haired domina cradled Julia’s head in her hands and leaned towards her provocatively. Robert gasped as, to his amazement, Julia looked up through her tears and gently returned the woman’s kiss, her body moving almost imperceptibly as she strained to receive another woman’s tongue between her moist, welcoming lips.

Robert moaned softly to himself, hardly able to believe what he was seeing. His fiancée, a devout Christian and virtuous almost to the extent of prudery, was actually kissing another woman and, even more unsettling, she appeared to be enjoying it. He took one last look at her, someone he loved deeply and someone he thought he knew so well, and rose from his seat, tottering unsteadily for a moment in his heels before running from the room. He swept to his room in a flurry of satin and lace before pulling off his stilettos and collapsing unconsolably into the pink softness of his duvet. Eventually, unable to untie the strict lacing of his corset, Robert managed to control his ragged breathing and set about removing his makeup and what he could of his feminine clothes. Half an hour later, he was sleeping soundly, already dreaming of what he would wear the following day. As Julia had been so easily corrupted, he wondered why he should bother to resist the slow transformation of his own body at all. Julia’s conversion had defeated him and, still remembering the hunger on here face as she welcomed her tormentor’s kiss, he vowed not to complain when the beautician made him dress the following morning. Somewhere deep inside his confused mind, a nagging voice was silenced. Tomorrow would be very different indeed.

TO BE CONTINUED

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