Wednesday, October 28, 2015

The Marriage of Belle Bottom

CHAPTER TWO:

Vera Demanden knew she couldn't use a hypnotherapist to transform her newly arrived nephew...a second one disappearing or dying would surely arouse suspicion. But she found a computer virus that would do the job. She secretly installed it on all Bill's devices--his desktop computer, his laptop, his tablet, even his smartphone...so that anytime he used them his mind would be subjected to its feminizing influence.

It was not as quick as the hypnotic control she had exerted on her immediate family, but over time she noticed subtle changes in Bill's behavior. He began to sit with his knees tightly together, ankles crossed. His walk changed from a confident stride to a mince. Then came the fateful day, three weeks after his arrival: Bill came to her with a magazine in his hand. "Please, Auntie, can I get a makeover to look like this?"

It was the cover of Seventeen...and it pictured a lovely young girl with curls and delicate makeup. "You really want this, Billy?" she asked.

"Oh, yes, Auntie Vera," he simpered. "I'd fit in so much better around here that way...."

"Very well, Billy," she said, smiling. "I know a place where we can get it done."

Two towns over, Vera had discovered Angela's salon...and Angela, who delighted in making boys look like girls. She had often had her maid-husband and sissy sons there for new looks. She immediately called for an appoinment.

"You're sure he's ready?" Angela asked when Vera requested a date.

"He came to me with a magazine cover he wants to look like," Vera replied.

"Oh, then he'll be putty in my hands...do you want the subliminals used?"

"Why not? Might as well push things along a little."

Two days later, Vera escorted Bill into the salon and introduced him. "Angela, this is Bill, who wants to look like a girl."

"Oh, he's so pretty already, he's going to make a beautiful girl," Angela cooed, as she turned his head this way and that. "In fact, why don't we make that his new name? Belle--it means beautiful in French!"

She led the boy deeper into the salon and sat him in one of the styling chairs. "You just sit here, Belle, and we'll make you so cute you won't be able to stand it!" She paused and covered the mirror. "But I want your new look to be a total surprise for you...so let's make sure you can't see any of it until we're done!"

Angela turned to Vera and whispered. "Blonde, right? And a permanent? Eyebrows trimmed? A full makeup job?" Vera nodded her assent to it all. "And, of course, the subliminals fed into her while she sits under the dryer..."

"I'm going to go and find some suitable clothes for our Belle," Vera said aloud. "I'll be back to see her in about an hour."

With that, the transformation began. After washing Bill's mousy hair, Angela lightened it two shades to a honey blonde. Then she rolled it onto curlers and doused it with permanent solution. "Whew! That really smells," Bill exclaimed.

"One of the prices of beauty," Angela explained, "but you're going to love the result." She rolled over one of the helmet-like dryers and settled it over his head. "You'll hear some music as the dryer works," she continued. "Don't be surprised if it makes you sleepy."

Indeed, in a short time, Bill was dozing under the dryer as the subliminal messages in the music penetrated his mind:

You are pretty...you are a pretty girl...you were never a boy...

Those and similar ideas floated through his head for 30 minutes. As they faded, he awoke and Angela removed the dryer. "OK, Belle, we'll let the curlers sit for a bit while I do your face. Must feel funny for a boy to get all made-up, huh?"

"What do you mean, Miss Angela?" Bill protested. "I'm not a boy, I'm a girl!"

"But didn't you used to be a boy?" Angela pressed.

"Never!" he insisted.

When Vera returned, she found the newly created Belle with a head full of golden curls, arched eyebrows, and a sweetly smiling pair of ruby lips. "Oh, she's gorgeous, Angela!" Vera cried. "And I have the perfect outfit for her trip home."

The outfit, once Belle was in it, was perhaps more suited to a girl of 12 than a young women of 17...but Belle was enraptured by its petticoats, lace and frills. She minced nicely on the patent leather mary-janes with three-inch heels.

"We'll get you into more grown-up clothes eventually, Belle dearest," her aunt explained on the way home. Once we have the rest of your life planned out, she thought.

TO BE CONTINUED


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