Saturday, February 7, 2015

House-sitting 2

After Samantha left the room, I sat down quietly in front of the mirror and gazed at my reflection while I carefully closed the straps of the stiletto-heeled platform shoes around my ankles with trembling fingers. These were the highest heels I had ever worn but I couldn’t dismiss the thought that, with my beautifully styled long brown hair and elaborate makeup, I now looked like a seductive exotic dancer and the shoes somehow suited my glamorous new appearance.

Still struggling to come to terms with the flimsy lace bra that barely contained my massive breasts, I pulled on a pair of tiny black panties. I felt a little insecure in what was little more than a revealing thong but my bikini line was perfect and, surprisingly, they did hold everything in place quite comfortably. With that, I then reached for the little black dress Samantha had selected for me, the dress that would finally complete my transformation...

I wasn’t really sure what I did for the rest of the evening. I spent a great deal of time looking at myself in any number of Frank’s mirrors, wondering who I was and what I would become. Whatever Dr Farrell had done to me, she had somehow managed to suppress everything that I had thought as a man and the very core of my personality struggled with the terrible ambiguity of still being male but looking so incredibly beautiful as a woman. I knew that it was wrong, some part of me still fought this unwelcome conditioning but the temptations of my new body were too strong, the hypnotic suggestions too powerful to resist. Slowly, the beautiful woman in the mirror seduced me, gently suppressing my doubts and fears until there was nothing left but acceptance and, though it was difficult to admit, desire.

When I could barely keep my heavily made-up eyes open any longer, I took a diaphanous white negligee from the closet, tucked what was left of my manhood neatly inside a matching lace thong and went to bed. I didn’t know it then but this would be the last time I would wear what I had now come to accept as ‘ordinary’ feminine clothing and indulge my recently acquired passion for female attire so innocently. Doctor Farrell had other ideas and changing me into an unselfconscious beautiful transvestite was only the beginning of her ambitious plan.

I was yet to discover that there was a darker and in some ways even more compelling side to my transformation, a transformation that would soon encompass more than just my appearance. I was unaware of the dark seed the doctor had implanted deep in my subconscious but it was already germinating in my fertile imagination, changing me more permanently than I could have believed possible. My personality was being carefully prepared for these changes so that I would eventually welcome the unwholesome desires she had implanted during hypnosis. Even my body would betray me, the creeping emasculation of my manly form already assured by the high doses of feminising hormones I was taking every time I swallowed one of Frank’s ‘vitamin’ tablets.

My corruption, had I known it, was already assured, my conversion into their dark congregation virtually guaranteed by the manipulation of my mind and the chemical feminisation of my body.

But I knew nothing of this then and I spent the night dreaming of beautiful clothes and extravagant high heels. For the time being at least, Tom was no longer part of my life, his masculine presence now little more than a fading memory as my personality adapted to its new sexuality.


I noticed the new addition to my room as soon as I woke up. A long blond wig had been placed on an ornate mannequin at the foot of the bed and, as I eased
myself out of bed and into the familiar elevation of my heels, I giggled softly to myself at this unexpected gift. I wasn’t sure what came over me but I knew that I had to try it on. I spent a few minutes tidying up my makeup before seating myself in front of the mirror and then, a moment later, I took the beautiful hairpiece in trembling hands to carefully pull it over my head.

I was now a ravishing platinum blond and the effect was startling. I must have stared at my new reflection for 15 minutes before I managed to tear myself away from the mirror to take the tablets my mystery benefactor had left by the bed.

There were more surprises in store for me it seemed. I threw open the closet door to reveal an array of new clothes that had somehow been placed in the cupboard of my room. However, they weren’t the flattering feminine styles I had grown accustomed to. Instead, my head reeled with the leather and...I could hardly believe it...rubber outfits that gleamed at me from the darkness. I wondered, after all that had been done to me, whether or not I would dare to even think of trying something on but my imagination was already running wild. I struggled with the forbidden promise of those dark clothes for over an hour before the phone rang and Dr Farrell’s soothing tones greeted me warmly.

"Tom, how are you getting on?" she said eagerly. "I assume you’ve found our little gifts. Have you tried anything on yet"

I began a reply but the doctor interrupted me with a single word.

"Sleep." She commanded.

I cradled the receiver gently and moved slowly back up to my room, all my doubts and fears extinguished by whatever instructions she had given me during the call. A few moments later, I felt the cold caress of stiff leather around my waist as I slowly tightened the straps of my first corset. Unbelievably, it felt wonderful to be so firmly constrained and the effect on my figure was amazing. After I had tightened every last buckle, I turned to the mirror and gasped as I finally saw what this latest garment had done to my waist. I had been steadily losing weight since the day I arrived but, with the corset secured, the change to my body was frightening. I now looked every inch the glamorous model and the glistening black leather sent shudders of pleasure through me with every breath.

I knew then that I was completely lost, my soul corrupted by the gloss black allure of these new clothes. Brushing the hair of my long blond wig from its ponytail, I took a gloss PVC skirt and top from the wardrobe and eagerly slipped them on. I was now ready to face the day.

It was actually Samantha who first introduced me to the pleasures of wearing rubber. I almost fell over in surprise when she arrived at the door wearing a fetishistic long latex dress, high heeled patent leather ankle boots and with her hair tied up in a strict bun. She quickly explained that Frank liked his guests to wear rubber in the privacy of the house and asked casually if I had ever considered trying it myself. My heart leaped beneath the rigid stays of my corset as I explained that I could never consider wearing anything so provocative myself.

"Don’t be silly Tom." She scolded me gently. "You’d look beautiful in something a little more daring and you’ve already tried on the corset. We’ve got loads of time this morning. Why don’t we play at dressing up?"

She smiled at me cheekily and I nodded.

"Good. It’s settled then." She said immediately, taking me by the hand to lead me back to the dressing room. "I’ve got just the thing for a beginner like you."

As she prepared me for my first experience of fetish clothing, I quickly grew accustomed to seeing her in her own latex outfit and, after a few minutes of perfectly ordinary conversation, the fact that I was actually talking to a woman dressed completely in highly polished rubber no longer seemed so strange. By the time she had applied talc to my arms and legs, I was already eager to try on my outfit.

Samantha helped me to dress, first in clinging rubber stockings and the now obligatory high stiletto heels and then matching shoulder-length gloves. The gloss black material felt incredible against my tingling skin and, with my strangely muted sense of touch, I couldn’t help but run my fingers along the smooth sheen of my rubberised legs. I shuddered once again at the amazing sensations I was experiencing in this tactile material.

"Happy?" Samantha asked.

"Delirious." I replied dreamily, already lifting my blackened arms to help her ease the skimpy latex of the fetishistic maid’s outfit over my head. "I never realised that it would feel this good. Are there more clothes like this in the house?"

"Of course. Frank insisted on it." Samantha said laughing. "You’ll have plenty of time before the others arrive this afternoon to try everything on. You might even want to select something special to wear when you meet everybody later on."

I hesitated, even as the cool latex of the maid’s uniform settled around my waist.

"There are people coming to see me later?" I asked quietly.

"Not just to see you, Tom, though they’re all keen to meet you of course. Frank has arranged a photo-shoot later on today and some of his models are posing. There will be a photographer too I assume and I’m doing the makeup and everything."

Samantha paused for a moment.

"I think that Frank was hoping you might take part actually." She said softly. "You’re definitely pretty enough and, as it’s a rubberwear shoot, you certainly look the part now."

She turned me around to face the mirror as she spoke and, despite my trepidation about actually having to meet other people in my current state, I felt another frisson of pleasure tingle through my flesh as I gazed at my reflection.

"Frank knows about all this?" I eventually summoned up the courage to ask as I pirouetted on my heels to get a better view of my encased body.

"He’s looking forward to seeing how you’re getting on for himself in a week or so." Samantha replied matter-of-factly. "He’s always keen on the new ‘girls’ and, as you were already pretty good friends, I’m sure he’ll pay you particular attention."

I shuddered in disgust and embarrassment as I realised that Frank had planned my transformation all along. How could I have been so naive, so stupid as to let all this happen to me? I was suddenly overcome with self-loathing and I felt my eyes welling up with tears.

"Oh, don’t cry Tom. It’s not so bad. You’re bound to be a little confused. After all, it’s only been a few days since we started all this and you’ve done incredibly well. You’re more beautiful than any of the other models he employs and, if you decide to have some photographs taken, the pay is excellent. I'm sure you'll be allowed to stay on here if you like, especially if your relationship with Frank takes off..."

"I’m not a homosexual Samantha." I blurted out, immediately regretting my anger. "I don’t even understand why I enjoy looking like a woman so much."

I began to sob loudly.

"The hormones are making you emotional." Samantha explained. "After a while, they’ll start to change your sexual orientation as well but you mustn’t worry about that yet. In a week or so, you’ll understand everything more clearly and Frank’s an eligible young bachelor. Regardless of how your own sexuality develops, he’s bound to find you attractive now so you’d best be prepared to let him down gently if you’re not sure."

"Hormones?" I asked as I dried my tears and unconsciously smoothed an errant crease from the front of my latex dress. "What hormones?"

"Didn’t Dr Farrell tell you." Samantha asked with unfeigned surprise. "You’ve been taking feminising drugs since the day you arrived. You must have noticed that you haven’t had to shave in the morning and your skin should feel smoother by now too."

I groaned, now understanding why my body had been changing so quickly. I felt like I had been physically punched with the news.

"Would you mind if I spent some time alone Sam?" I said quietly. "I need to think about all this before everyone arrives this afternoon"

I spent an hour or so alone I my room coming to terms with the fact that I was now more than just a simple transvestite. Unwittingly, I had been fed feminising hormones and my body was already changing more permanently than I had expected. I couldn’t even bring myself to consider the other changes that the drugs might precipitate. What if Samantha was right? What if I did find my old school chum attractive? What would I do?

I eventually cheered myself up by trying on an elaborate outfit from my closet. The sleek black rubber seemed to protect me from my fears and it felt like a kind of armour as I carefully eased it on.

The skin-tight latex skirt and glamorous jacket comforted me somehow and, with a long straight wig, I felt anonymous and safe. My legs were still encased in their gloss black stockings and, with six-inch heels, I no longer felt like Tom at all. I was ‘that woman’ again and she seemed much more relaxed about everything than her male predecessor.

"You should consider giving her a name." Samantha interrupted from the doorway. "I’m sorry about cutting in but I wanted to see if you were feeling any better and… well… most of the ‘girls’ going through here adjust more quickly once they’ve taken a more suitable name. I was thinking that Tina might be nice and, as the initial is the same, you wouldn’t have to change your bank details or anything."

"I don’t think I’ll be doing this permanently." I replied, smiling at my new friend. "But, you’re right about the name. Tina does sound better now that I’m feeling all feminine again. Anyway, nobody with breasts this size should be known as Tom."

We laughed and I hugged Samantha closely as my new name became just another part of my female persona. The alter-ego that I had created, now given a name, seemed stronger than ever before and, as we chatted, my worries and fears receded a little. Tina definitely enjoyed Samantha’s company and I hoped that we would stay friends when this was all over.

After a light lunch, Samantha helped Tina to dress to meet her guests. I elected to wear a revealing high-crotch latex body suit with a net panel at the front to flaunt the large breasts of which I was justifiably proud. Rubber stockings and outrageous platform stilettos completed my outfit and I looked every inch the dedicated fetish queen when I was finished.. Samantha wore a beautiful rubber corset, high heels and a simple net dress and, together, we looked ravishing.

"This is going to drive the men crazy." Samantha purred. "You’ll knock em dead in that outfit."

"Thanks for the compliment." I sighed. "But I’m still not sure I’m ready to deal with men fawning all over me just yet."

Samantha winked.

"You’ll soon get used to it." She said softly. "And, who knows, you might even find you enjoy all the attention after a while."

I drank a little wine as the guests arrived and I was surprised at how normal they all seemed. The woman were all beautiful of course; Frank only selected the most glamorous models and even the men were all polite and nice. No one seemed to bat an eyelid at being welcomed into the house by a pretty transsexual (that was how I saw myself now) and, once everyone had started getting ready for the photo-shoot, my outfit blended in perfectly. It was hard to believe but, for the first time in my life, I felt like I was part of a crowd. I felt completely at ease with these people and the fact that, beneath the layers of makeup and rubber, I was still a man didn’t seem important anymore.

It didn’t take many more glasses of wine before Samantha convinced me to have some photos taken.

"Tina." she called loudly. "We’re ready for you now. I’ll help you get ready."

I kept 2 of the photos, my favourites from the shoot and had them framed. They greeted me every morning when I woke and I saw them last thing at night before I went to sleep. In one, I was a gleaming dominatrix, complete with whip and a thick leather collar. Samantha had sealed me in a wonderful leather corset that really lifted my breasts. The latex stockings and seven-inch stiletto heels showed off my legs to perfection and Samantha had done amazing things with my hair.

The other photograph was more overtly fetishistic. I had been convinced to try on a proper latex catsuit by one of the other models and, before I really knew what was going on, Samantha had fitted me with some sort of elaborate headpiece. I had never worn a catsuit before and certainly not such an exquisite ‘hat’ but, for some reason, I really liked the ensemble and it was an easy choice for the photo frame.

Samantha ribbed me constantly about the rest of the pictures. I had seemingly got rather carried away with some of the other models and, in at least a couple of the scenes, with Samantha too. The one where we were dressed as rubber nurses was particularly memorable but there were others where we both wore complete latex helmets or revealing rubber tops that were equally erotic. I laughed at how excited she had been about me touching her. Luckily Frank didn’t seem to mind at all...


I wore my favourite gold latex dress to greet Frank when he arrived, kissing him warmly as he held me close in a passionate embrace. I no longer needed
to wear the false breasts now that he had paid handsomely for my breast augmentation. Samantha regularly styled my hair and now that I was a ‘natural’ platinum blond, I no longer need to wear a wig.

Even though we were lovers, Frank insisted that I receive a salary for my modelling work and this paid for a nose job and some facial reshaping, necessary for my permanent transformation into a true woman. The hormones I took regularly kept my waist narrow, my skin smooth and had given me the broader hips that men seemed to find so attractive.

In a few month’s time, I would have saved up enough money to pay for the complete gender reassignment that I now craved. We were both looking forward to the day that I would finally become a real woman.

The End

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