The Spa Chapter 1 - Not An Ordinary Spa free porn video

Unlike my Sunday Morning story, I feel that this one is a lot more structured and at the same time just as exciting. While this idea of taking an asshole and turning him into someone better is not a revolutionary idea at all, I do believe that Car2nage and I are on track to breathe life in this sort of story. I would love it if you guys could review or send an email to [email protected]. You all have no idea how a couple words can really boost the ego! Anyway, enjoy || The Spa By: Fire Fly and Car2nage Going to a spa was always a wonderful thing. There are very few places in the world where you can just cut loose and relax yourself, letting all of your cares slip away. Springwood Spa was well known for its wonderful service, offering a wide variety of services including massages, a salon, yoga instructor, tanning services, and much, much more. It was a very remarkable place for what it offered. What's more is that it only catered to the elite, so normal people couldn't just simply come in willy-nilly. The waiting list for a person without money was astronomical. However, if you had a well-known name and rolled in select circles, one with money could get in whenever they liked. How fortunate for Caroline Collins that she just seemed to ooze money. At the age of forty-two, Carol could only be recognized as a stunner. The beautiful entrepreneur didn't look a day over thirty, despite how stressful her life was. Owning several fortune five hundred companies wasn't easy work you know. On top of that was her son, Grant. The little monster was always getting in trouble. At twenty, he had accomplished all of nothing in his life. He had grown up spoiled, getting everything he wanted because his father was such a sap - God rest his soul. When he died, Grant didn't seem to care all that much just as long as he was still entitled to that trust fund when he reached twenty-one. This is normally the part where you learn how Caroline was left nothing and how Grant was left everything, but that's not the way this story plays out. She and her husband Richard regarded each other as equals when they came together. Both of them owned their own unit of companies, so neither of them were concerned about gold digging. Richard had left her practically everything while his son had only gotten at most twenty-five-thousand. It was enough for him to go to a mediocre college. Richard always kept the philosophy that there was no such thing as a free lunch. He built his empire from scratch. Grant too would suffer the same fate, clawing his way to the top. Caroline would take over everything, including how to raise their pathetic excuse for a son. It had been two years since Robert died, and his death didn't seem to do anything for Grant. If anything, he became worse. Wild parties, drugs, wanton sex... Despite being a lazy asshole, the boy had inherited one thing from his father, and that was his devilish good looks. He wasn't so much handsome as he was pretty, and for girls today, pretty boys were the new black... The two of them had never gotten along well despite being actually related. One would think that Caroline was his wicked stepmother by the way he treated her, but that was very much not the case. She was his birth mother. He just happened to be a rotten egg... She had tried to straighten him out, but he wouldn't listen to her, continuing down his path of eventual self-destruction. What was a mother with a multi- billion dollar industry to do? What indeed... --- Springwood Spa was one of those places that you passed by from a distance, knowing that you'd never get to go there no matter how hard you worked. It had both spa and ranch qualities, boasting over ten acres of land with beautiful green pastures. From the large, gold gilded gates that wrapped around its perimeter, one would be able to make out the shapes of cows and horses grazing. At least, from this distance. If you managed to get past the heavy security, you'd be able to marvel at the huge, castle-like building. It looked like something out of a fairytale, only it was way too new looking with its marble walls and fountains. To most people, this was home away from home - a relaxing spot that nothing could interrupt. Well, almost... "Why do you always gotta get on my back about this stuff!? It was just a party, wasn't like I was doing anything wrong!" Grant yelled at his mother as they rode in her limo to the spa. This was a typical argument he and his mother had with each other. Carol would come to him holding the receipt for some incredibly expensive purchase Grant had made, some sort of drug paraphernalia, or find Grant sleeping with yet another woman and ask her son to explain himself, only for him to extremely defensive and lash out. This time, the two were fighting over a very expensive and incredibly destructive party that Grant had thrown the previous night. According to Grant, he invited a few friends who told everyone else and things spiraled out from there, but Carol knew the truth. He'd invited hundreds of people over to their house and ordered untold amounts of booze and drugs along with several strippers as the entertainment. He and his guests then proceeded to go about destroying and looting everything inside. Carol knew all of this because she'd looked at their bank statements and found that Grant had managed to squander the last of his inheritance on the liquor, then stole another $50,000 from Carol's own accounts to pay for the drugs and strippers. "'Just a party!?' Grant, you and your 'friends' burned down half the house! You destroyed my art collection, crashed your father's incredibly rare 1969 Camaro into the pool, and to top it all off you did it with my money! You're lucky I didn't press charges, the drugs alone would've gotten you a life sentence." She fired back, letting out a loud sigh when she finished. "Your father would be horrified to see what you've done with your inheritance. He wanted you to use that money for your future, so that you could build something for yourself and become your own man. But I guess you never wanted any of that. You just want to drink and party and throw your life away..." Grant couldn't disagree with her there. He never had any plans to do anything his father had planned for him. Really, he was the son of an entrepreneur. Did his mother really expect him to work? As far as he was concerned, he was going to keep living the life that he was living. After all, he knew that Caroline wasn't so callous as to kick the fruit of her loins out of the house. One thing that she always stressed in her board meetings was family values. How would it look if she suddenly kicked her one and only child out on the street? Why, no one would take her seriously after that, now would they? Caroline sighed, not getting a response from Grant at all. His arms were crossed and his eyes were closed tight as if he was blocking her out. "We only wanted the best for you, but we spared you the rod one too many times when you were a child," she finally said after calming herself. "Anyway, while we are at Springwood, I want you to be on your best behavior. You will not buy alcohol and you will not sleep with any of the women or employees while we are here. If you so much as break either of these rules, I will make sure to it personally that you won't be able to touch any of the family funds for the rest of your life. Do I make myself clear?" "Yeah, whatever..." Bitch... As if he could help it if girls tended to throw themselves at his feet! So what if he got a little plastered?" Everyone needed to unwind sometime. Sex, money, and drugs - that was how all rich boys partied these days. Why should he be any different? He had told his mother all of this and more, but it never seemed to sink in. He blamed it on her being a prude. "No idea why dad married her. I bet she stopped putting out the day she had me..." The rest of the drive to the main gate was eerily quiet. The two of them were evidently fuming.... A few minutes later, the limo pulled up to the resort and parked near the large fountain by the entrance. A baggage attendant came to the limo and opened the door for Caroline and Grant, and the two emerged from the car. Caroline kept an eye of Grant, watching him as he ogled several women emerging from their own limos and cabs for a relaxing vacation. She didn't expect her son to actually be able to keep his promise, but she also didn't think he'd be tempted this quickly. "Grant, I'm not kidding. If you so much as lay a finger on any of them-" "Okay, okay, jeez!" Grant yelled back as his focus was snapped back to his mother. Her constant badgering got on his nerves so much. He wasn't even doing anything, just taking a few mental snapshots for later. After all, if he wasn't allowed to have sex with anyone here, he'd just have to let his hand compensate... "Why are we here, anyway? I figured you'd punish me for the party, not take me out to some resort." Caroline had been telling the bellhop where to take their luggage when she heard Grant chime in. "This isn't a reward. I figured after how much alcohol and cocaine you did last night, we'd need to do something to get you fully detoxified. And it's certainly less high profile than a rehab clinic. Though, if you want me to punish you, I could certainly contact my lawyer and having him file a suit against you for all the damage you caused..." The implied threat shut him up immediately and he went inside. Caroline couldn't help but smirk a little. 'He doesn't suspect a thing. Good.' She pulled out her phone and made a quick phone call to the receptionist. "Cheryl, it's Caroline. Make sure Maria is ready for her appointment with Grant. I want her prepped to deal with him should he break the rules..." --- Grant let out a satisfied sigh as he finished up his little date with his right hand. He couldn't help it, the female baggage attendant they had gotten to lead him up to the suite had such a nice ass and he couldn't stop thinking about it the entire time after she left. His mother wasn't around to keep an eye on him, having left a little bit after their arrival on "business matters," meaning that he was flagrantly breaking the promise he'd made to her during the car ride over. He'd already gotten through half the mini-bar. After all, what she didn't know couldn't hurt her... He'd just finished cleaning up from his jerk-off session when he heard a little knock on the door. He assumed that it was probably his mother. Dumb bitch probably forgot her key or something. He hopped on the couch that was located in the living area of the suite and pretended to sleep. If she wanted to get in, she could go downstairs and get another one. What did he care? Grant would soon find himself mistaken as someone swiped their keycard and entered the room. She looked young, couldn't be much older than twenty-five. Long golden hair, and the face of an innocent princess had Grant bolting up out of his seat. The long China dress she wore didn't help either, slit up the sides, giving everyone a peek at her creamy flesh. Grant had to pinch himself to make sure that this wasn't some kind of drunk dream. Sure he was buzzed, but he never hallucinated when he was buzzed! "Well hello there~" he said smoothly, getting up to his feet. He suddenly cursed himself, realizing that he wasn't wearing anything good and that he looked a mess. His hair wasn't combed, and his plain white t-shirt had a red stain on it from one of the drinks he had. He tried to play it off though, stumbling a little but then finding that old charm of his in no time. "I don't remember ordering room service, but don't feel like you have to go. I could use some company..." The woman just smiled sheepishly and bowed at the waist, apologizing for her sudden entrance. "I should have waited for someone to open the door first, but Mrs. Collins gave me explicit orders to come in even if you did not answer. You see, you have a massage scheduled for today, and I will be giving it to you." The whole time she spoke she kept her head downcast and towards the ground, yet her voice carried itself wonderfully like the nightingale she was supposed to be. Grant could hardly believe what he was hearing. Yeah, no way.... There had to have been some hidden camera around here somewhere. As if his mother was this cool, sending him this hot piece of ass... But she did seem to be serious. She wasn't skipping a beat, having already gone to a locked closet that patrons could not open without a special keycard. She pulled out a massaging table and set it up right there in the living room for him. All he had to do was get undressed. He didn't have to be told twice. He ducked into the master bedroom and tossed his clothing off to the side, becoming completely naked. He had to wear a towel however around his waist so that none of his unmentionables were showing for the time being. "Thank you, Mr. Collins," she said in her small voice, about to bow once more. Only this time she was stopped by the buzzed "gentleman" who was unceremoniously placing his index finger against her lips as if he were some kind of suave prince. "There is no need to call me Mr. Collins my dear. Please, call me Grant. Or better yet, call me Lucky, because I think I just hit the jackpot." The cheesiness of his failed pickup line didn't even seem to register in his mind, but it did cause the masseuse to blush visibly. From rage or embarrassment was not evident. What was though was her eagerness to get started, patting the table probably just so she could do her job and be done with this asshole. Grant stumbled over to the massage table and sat down on it. His lack of self- control was clearly evident to the masseuse when she saw his towel slowly rising up over his groin. Grant blushed a bit, but in his inebriated state he didn't seem to mind too much. "Oh, sorry, I couldn't help it. If it stays like this, I might need a happy ending, if you know what I mean..." The masseuse's mask of demure subservience cracked a bit when her face twitched for a split second to an expression of disgust. "It's my job to leave you satisfied Mr. Collins, though I'm afraid I can't give you that kind of satisfaction. Now please, lie down." Grant laughed at that. 'Couldn't give him that kind of satisfaction?' "Suuuure," he answered. She had everything he needed to stay satisfied, nice lips, a cute ass, a decent sized pair of perky breasts... He just had to convince her to say yes. Even in his drunken state he could see she was getting a little annoyed, so he did as she asked and laid on his stomach, resting his face in the little niche cut out for it. "Would giving a little extra for your tip change your mind?" The masseuse blushed furiously once more as she quickly started kneading his back and shoulders. "I was told very specifically not to not to give you sexual favors..." Grant heard her say. A wide grin spread across his face. So not only did she provide sex, but his mother had also told them not to give him any. Well, he'd already gone through the minibar and put it all on his mother's card; it wasn't like she could stop him from having a little fun with the cute masseuse... As the masseuse pressed and rolled her hands against him, Grant snaked his hand around her hip and gave her butt a nice squeeze. It was wonderfully soft. The action elicited a loud gasp from the masseuse. "Oh so you do give your clients sex? I guess Mom would've told you not to, but it's not like she or anyone else has to find out..." His hand slowly trailed around her hip to her groin, his fingertips gliding over the slit in her dress and allowing him to feel her soft, smooth skin. He could feel her hands leave his back and her body tensing a bit as he neared his target. "Don't worry, it'll be fun. I know how to please a girl like-" His hand was cupping the masseuse's groin, but what he felt there was nothing like what a normal girl's pussy felt like. It felt like there were several moveable fleshy bumps there, almost like she had a penis... He lifted his head and gave her a confounded look. "What the he-" Grant was suddenly cut off as the masseuse's hand collided powerfully against his head, immediately knocking him unconscious. He didn't even have time to wonder what hit him as everything went dark for him. The masseuse winced and shook her hand out a bit. She knew the stupid playboy had a thick skull, but she didn't realize how thick... Once the pain subsided, she went back to the locked closet and pulled out a small case label "FOR SPECIAL GUESTS ~" and opened it. Inside was a Taser, several single-dose syringes filled with a tranquilizer, and a pair of handcuffs. She'd hit him pretty hard, but she didn't want to take chances. After all, subduing him again would've forced her injure him more, something that she would be severely punished for. She went back over to Grant and injected one of the syringes into his neck, then she locked his wrists together with the cuffs. Once she was sure he wouldn't cause any more trouble, she went to the phone and dialed a special number, one that couldn't be found in the directory. "Hello? It's Maria-047." -How was he? The masseuse couldn't hold back the revulsion in her voice. "Oh, he was much worse than you told me, mistress. He kept making bad pickup lines, and he smelled like alcohol. He even tried to feel me up!" - Figures. Has he been dealt with? "Yes, mistress, he's unconscious and ready for transport to the facility." -Good girl. Now run along to your other appointments. A team will be up there in a few minutes to bring him down. "Yes mistress." There was a small click as her mistress hung up. She put the phone on the receiver and cast one more look at the unconscious man, shaking her head in disdain. She closed the case and put it back in the closet, then left the room and closed the door behind her, leaving Grant alone on the table. --- There was nothing like waking up after sleeping in a horrible position for hours on end. Stiff and sore all over, Grant woke up with a groan. What the hack happened? His memory was foggy, and on top of that his head felt like it had been on the wrong of a baseball bat. Not to mention that the bright light in his face wasn't helping anything. He tried to lift his hand to his eyes, but he found them to be less than cooperative... Wait, it wasn't because he was too sore, it was because- "What the fuck!?" Grant opened his eyes to see that he was strapped to a medical bed. His arms and legs were securely sequestered to the bed by black bindings. They were strong and no matter what he did there was no getting out of them. It was then that he noticed that something was... off with his body. His skin looked a lot smoother, and the harsh angles produced by his muscles had now become rounded and curvy. His hips also seemed wider, like a woman's. "What the... What's happened to me!?" If Grant could've moved, he would've quickly slapped his hands over his mouth. His voice didn't sound anything like his voice at all. It had a much higher pitch and now sounded sweet and velvety, like the voice of a girl... "There's never a dull moment with you, is there?" a familiar voice asked. The click clacking of heels on hard tile could be heard echoing in the darkness, heading straight for him. With every step, the room started to illuminate, revealing that he definitely wasn't in his hotel room anymore. It looked more like he was in one of those operating rooms that he saw on a few hospital dramas where there was a balcony that others could watch from. That wasn't important to him right now though. What was important was WHY he was here and who better to know why than his Mother? Caroline stood at the foot of his bed with her normal disappointed look on her face. She had a newspaper tucked underneath one arm and a small mirror in the opposite hand. Their eyes locked and she couldn't help but sigh. "To think that it actually came to this... Not even a day at the spa... I want to say that I expected better from you, but I'd be lying." The woman shook her head, wiping a tear away that was starting to roll down her cheek. Grant was unfazed, thinking of only what the heck she was doing with him. He shouted obscenities of course, but Caroline ignored them all until he had tired himself out. The tranquilizers he had been given left him winded. "Grant... You left me no other choice," she said simply, walking to the head of his bed. "You are way too out of control, and as such, I can no longer accept you as my son. You ruin the lives of others at the drop of a hat for your own selfish gain. It's not what your father wanted of you. He wanted you to continue the family line and follow in his footsteps, but here you are at my mercy. Your deeds have led you to this point, and there is no going back this time. I can no longer stand back and watch you harm yourself and those around you. You lack proper discipline. How dare you harass Maria after I explicitly told you not to? And don't think that I don't know that you've been drinking. All of this was a test to see if you could behave yourself for one weekend, but you couldn't even last five hours..." Grant looked at her, totally confused by what she was saying. "What the...? What are you talking about? And where the hell are we!? Let me out of here! I wanna go home!" He struggled fruitlessly against his bonds once again. Caroline sighed and shook her head and unfurled the newspaper, holding it up so that Grant could read it. Judging by the date, it looked like the newspaper had come out several weeks ago. Grant noticed one of the articles had his picture right above it: WEALTHY HEIR DIES IN CAR CRASH Grant Collins, 20, was found dead today after a car accident near the intersection of Springwood Avenue and Rosebud Street. Police say that Collins, son of business mogul Caroline Collins and her late husband Richard Collins, had a blood alcohol content of 2.4 at the time of the crash. Eyewitnesses reported that his car, an Audi R8, was swerving dangerously on the road before it slammed into a tree a top speed. Friend and family remember Grant as fun loving with a zest for life... The article continued on from there, listing details of his life along with details for funeral arrangements. It did nothing to answer any of Grants questions and only made him more confused. "What the hell... Mom, just tell me what's going on, please, this is scaring me." Caroline lowered the newspaper with a sad and disappointed look on her face. "Grant, your father and I... we've tried everything to help you grow into a productive individual, to help you become your own man and leave your mark on the world. But every time, you've squandered those opportunities. And with the kind of life you're leading, I don't see any way you could possibly become a productive member of society. So, I'm hoping that with your 'death,' you can be reborn as someone better, who has discipline and respect for others." Grant was still confused. He didn't have any idea what all of that had to do with him being in some kind of underground laboratory or with why his voice sounded so different. In his girly voice, he shouted, "Mom, you're not making any sense! What the fuck is going on!? Why do I sound so different?" Caroline answered only with a sigh and held up the mirror for Grant to look. He was shocked by what he saw reflected. The girl in the mirror was extremely cute. In any other circumstance, Grant might've tried to woo her and get her in bed with him. Her skin was absolutely smooth and pale, adorning a beautiful heart shaped face. Her lips were pink and plump, hanging open in surprise underneath a cute button nose as her large pink eyes scanned her features in the mirror. Above them, long pink bangs hung from her head which was covered with long wavy pink hair. It was a few minutes before Grant stopped staring at his reflection and looked back at his mother. "Is... Is that... me?" Caroline lowered the mirror. "Finally you're beginning to understand," she said bluntly, disappointment seeping through her words. "For a while, I'd been thinking: what could I possibly do to help you get on the right track? What could possibly help you to become a decent man? I thought of everything, rehab, psychotherapy, military school, even religion. But after your little party and your attempt to molest Maria a month ago-" "Wait, I've been here for a month!?" Grant shouted in disbelief. The last thing he remembered was feeling up Maria before she knocked him unconscious. How was it possible that he'd been stuck in lab for so long? Caroline gave him a stern glare. "I'm getting to that, "son," now please just listen. After all of your foolish antics, I realized I would have to take drastic measures. Since you didn't want to step up and be a man, I figured it would be best if I made you into something more fitting. You see, a few years ago, the military asked me and the companies I own to develop methods to train and condition soldiers in military tactics and make them hardened to the effects of combat, as well as ways to make those soldiers tougher and stronger so that they wouldn't have to spend months in boot camp before they could ship them off. Caroline set down the newspaper and mirror on the medical tray by Grant's bed and pulled over a stool to sit on. "The mental conditioning project went perfectly, almost too perfectly. The subjects who were given it all retained the skills that were given, but they turned out perfectly docile; they would follow just about any order given to them. As for the physical modifications, there were a few... side effects with it. We used several forms of enhanced testosterone and human growth hormone to stimulate the changes we wanted, but the drug cocktail severely imbalanced their hormones. The test subjects had much more strength and endurance than any normal person, but then they started developing female secondary sexual characteristics due to their bodies producing a similarly enhanced form of estrogen. In the end, the military was so embarrassed by their army of fully obedient shemale soldiers that they covered it all up and used it only for certain black ops units- you know, unlawful combatants, MK-ULTRA victims, Delta Force, that sort of thing. "It was almost a financial disaster for me. We'd spent a lot of money on those projects, and the military refused to use them to the extent I had hoped. But then, I got an idea. Why not market it to the private sector? I was sure there would be plenty of people who would want to alter themselves, either physically or mentally. So I opened Springwood Spa, had this facility built underneath it, and advertised my services to those who could afford it. As it turned out, a lot of my clients happened to be women who wanted to give both treatments to their sons and husbands. Sons and husbands who were every bit as lazy, rude, and destructive as you are." Caroline got up from her seat and started pacing, never taking her eyes off Grant. Her son watched and listened in fear and confusion. "So, what does this all have to do with you? Well, I put two and two together and realized that this would be the best option for you. I brought you to Springwood and gave you one last chance to see if you could be saved, and you blew it. So, I had my surgeons and doctors give you all those feminizing wonder-drugs to help give you a more fitting appearance. It takes a while for the affects you see to happen, so you were put suspended animation for a month so that your body could properly adjust." Grant looked at his mother in total shock. "But... I don't...what... Why? How could you do this to me!? Change me back now!" He started struggling against his restraints, but to no avail. This was insane, everything about secret government projects aside, what could've possibly given his mother the idea to do this to him? The look on Caroline's face softened a bit as she heard his plea. "I'm sorry Grant, there's no going back. Believe me, I didn't want to do this to you. I hoped that you would eventually come to your senses and take charge of your life." She let out a heavy sigh before speaking again. "But you don't want to take charge of your life and be a man, so you won't be a man and others will take charge of your life for you." Grant's fear started giving way to anger as he realized that his mother wasn't going to do anything about his new situation. "What!? You can't be serious! Let me out of here right now, I'm calling the cops! You've ruined my life!" Caroline couldn't help but giggle a bit at his outburst. "There's no point in that, the whole town knows about my little business and have been paid a decent sum to keep them quiet and cooperative. Besides, you're deep underground at a place where everyone works for me, everyone else thinks you're dead, and even if you somehow escaped, people would just think you're one of the sissy sluts from the spa and bring you back for the reward." She finally stopped pacing and stepped closer to Grant, looking him square in the eye. "As for 'ruining your life,' you've done enough of that yourself. You've sowed, and now you must reap." Grant's mother then turned and began walking away. "This is all for your own good. You'll thank me later for this, trust me." Thank her later? How could he thank her for anything she was doing to him? If anything, once he got out of this, he'd strangle her! Of course, that meant that he had to get out of his bindings. He wasn't left alone for long though, as two females entered the room. If he weren't in his current situation, he definitely would have made some hard passes on them, being two buxom bombshells, but at the moment he was less horny and more frantic, trying to fight them as they removed his binds. He thought that he could easily get the drop on them. Just because they had changed him a little bit didn't mean that he wasn't stronger than the two of them. Too bad he was quickly proven wrong as he was put in a tight choke hold by one of them, easily incapacitating him without incident. She held him just loose enough that he wouldn't pass out. They needed him awake... With him now acting a bit more cooperative, they led him out of his temporary room. One thing Grant noticed that his legs felt numb and that he couldn't walk on his own. A month being in bed along with whatever treatment they had started him on had left his muscles strangely weak. One of the women helping him move around told him that their head doctor would explain all of his changes and then some. To be honest, Grant didn't want to know, but given his particular situation, there wasn't much that he could do but be dragged around by these two beauties. Fortunately, they were already in the medical wing of the spa. The head doctor's office was only a hop, skip, and a step down the hall. The trio stopped short at the sterile looking white door. A plaque with the name Dr. Gwen Baker shined brightly. Two knocks and a "Come in!" later, Grant was standing in front of one of the prettiest women he had ever seen. Sure she had red hair and glasses, but that only accentuated her slender face and her bright lavender eyes. Not to mention she had a huge rack that Grant's eyes immediately honed in on... The doctor looked up from reading various reports on her desk. "Ah, Mr. Collins, or should I say Miss Collins?" the woman said with little smile. "Your appearance has certainly changed quite a bit since I last saw you, though it's obvious your behavior hasn't. My face is up here, by the way." The moment she said that, Grant's eyes flicked up to the doctor's face. His cheeks turned a pink from being caught. "Well, now that you're not distracted, I guess I should properly introduce myself. As you could see from the sign outside, my name's Dr. Baker, though some of the other staff will occasionally refer to me as Gwen. You'll be seeing me a lot over the next several months, I'm in charge of making sure you and your fellow students get their proper doses of hormones and mental restructuring therapy. Please, take a seat." The two women escorting Grant pulled up the chair opposite from Dr. Baker and forced him down into it. "And now to business," Dr. Baker said, adjusting her glasses as she read from his file. "You've already completely Phase I of the transformation process, meant to provide you with sufficient quantities of enhanced male sex hormones to induce physical changes- changes that you've likely already noticed." The red-haired doctor gave him a wink, which Grant answered with a small groan. "As we all can clearly see, your body now has the shape and appearance of a girl, but the changes don't stop there. Those hormones we gave you also increase skeletal muscle density and cardiac endurance, things that you'll definitely need for your... future endeavors." Grant interrupted the doctor before she could keep going on. "Wait, that stuff actually made me stronger? Then why do I need them to carry me around?" he asked, pointing to the women behind him. Gwen looked at him, then glanced at the two women with a look that said 'You know what to do.' One of the women gave him a quick slap to the back of the head, causing Grant to flinch. "Do not speak unless given permission. You'll find that that little piece of wisdom will get you far," the doctor said sternly. "I was just getting to that. As I was saying, your muscle density has increased, but as you would imagine, spending a month in a coma will have detrimental effects on muscle mass. Since we want to get you started quickly, you'll be put on a physical training regimen to help strengthen those muscles so that you can move independently. After that, you'll be given more modifications and drug treatments to further enhance femininity and sensitivity. Then, we'll perform some mental conditioning to program all the information you'll need to get started into your empty little head. And that should bring you up to speed with all of your classmates." Grant opened his mouth again, but stopped himself before he could speak out. "Uh, permission to speak, doctor?" He braced himself for another blow from one of his chaperones. Gwen gave sigh. "Well, at least you were polite enough to ask for permission this time. Go ahead." She gave a little wave of her hand. "Uh, what do you mean by classmates and other students? Am I, like, going back to school or something?" Gwen gave a little smile. "In a way, yes. In the rehabilitation wing of the spa, we take bratty little 'girls' like you and remake them into sweet, polite, obedient angels who will do whatever they're told," she said, clearly entertained by whatever details she was withholding from Grant. "Think of it like a highly specialized and intensive etiquette school." Her answer didn't really do much to address Grant's confusion. Rather it only raised more questions and fears about what lied down the road ahead. He opened his mouth to speak once again. "And no, the changes can't be reversed. You're in this for the long haul, whether you like it or not. I suggest you accept that. And in any case, your mother is paying me extra to make sure you come out right, and I'm not going to go against my employer when she offers me such nice incentives. 'Wow,' Grant thought. 'She's good.' He didn't exactly thing that trying to bribe her would work- he didn't have any money and he doubted she would throw herself at him for sex when in this state- but he'd figured it was worth a try. "Anyways, you have your physical training session in a few minutes. If there are no more questions, Eva and Lyn can take you there," Dr. Baker said finally, nodding at the two women who had brought Grant in. Grant still had one final question though, feeling a little panicy after having been told that he was going to be turned into a girl. "Wait, but what's physical therapy like?" The Doctor's lips curled upwards, and she gave him a toothy grin. "It will be nothing that you have experienced before I assure you..." The Doctor's words left a horrible knot in Grant's stomach. He wasn't looking forward to this... --- The walk to the fitness area was very uneventful. His two companions, while beyond sexy, gave him the cold shoulder. Neither of them seemed interested in what he had to say, and when he spoke too much, they quickly reminded him of his situation with a hard strike to the back of his head. He'd have a knot by this time. Each hit to the back of his head was extremely powerful, nearly enough to knock him out. How odd. Neither looked like they worked out a day in their lives with their perfect, fragile figures, yet here they were slapping him with the force of a heavy weight boxer... The fitness area was only a hop and a skip away down the hall. At first glance, it appeared to be a normal gym. There certainly didn't seem to be anything spectacular about it. It was a large rectangular area enclosed by three white walls and one that was just one big mirror. There were severalmachines scattered about. Some he recognized as elliptical and others as exercise bikes, but there were quite a few that were brand new to him... He wasn't given long to gawk as he was pushed into the locker room. "Strip." The order came from both of his escorts in unison. He looked at both of them and blushed. He had been wearing nothing but a medical gown since after he woke up. While normally he would have been extremely happy to strip in front of two babes. Now though, he wasn't so sure he wanted anyone to see him like this. He didn't even feel like he was in the same body anymore. His moment of apprehension earned him another swift strike to the noggin - reminding him that it wasn't a request... As he removed his gown, one of the women opened up a locker and pulled out what appeared to be a latex Speedo. It had an extremely shiny surface and stretched in the woman's hands. There was no doubt in his mind that those were for him. With his clothing off, he could see the full extent of what had been done to him in the time he had been out. Was no place sacred? He felt violated all over! He knew they radically changed his facial features, but they also changed his build and stature! He could clearly recall being at least a half a foot taller than this, and his limbs... He could distinctly remember them having some muscle tone. This was probably what the Doctor was talking about. They became more dense but lost their overall mass. If he escaped this place, it would take him forever to get his body back to normal, but that was just what he thought anyway. His muscles weren't the only thing that shrank, as he soon found out once he was completely in the buff. There was one thing that he was always overly proud about, and that was his eleven inches of pure man meat. That was one of the things that he inherited from his father, but it seemed like even that had been taken away from him as he stared at his for inch, uncut penis. He hadn't been this size since before puberty, and even then it had more girth than this! Suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious, he snatched the latex garment from one of the women's hands and slipped it on, not noticing the strange grins that the two were exchanging between themselves. "He's just so eager, isn't he, Eva?" "Oh yes, I do believe you are right, Lyn." The two shared a laugh together, but Grant for the life of him couldn't figure out why. Was it because of his state of undress, or maybe... He did not have to wonder long as his pelvis suddenly felt very strange. It was as though something was moving over it. The young man blinked quizzically and looked down, only to see that the latex garment he now wore was squirming as if it were alive! "What the hell!" he screeched in his new, feminine voice. At once he reached down to grab at the seams of the rubbery underwear, but in retaliation it clamped down to his waist, removing all possibility that they were going to go anywhere any time soon. "Polytights," one of his escorts said simply. It was Eva, grinning ear to ear. "It's a very temperamental garment made out of billions and billions of self-replicating nanites. All new students are required to wear black when they first join the rehabilitation program," she stated, tilting her head from side to side. Grant just growled in reply. Nanites? What was this, some sort of science-fiction movie? How the hell did they acquire nanites? He was about to call bullshit, but he felt something against his upper thigh. Looking down, he almost jumped out of his skin from what he saw. The latex underwear, it was longer now! It swallowed the middle of his calves, giving the impression that he was wearing shiny, black bicycle shorts. It was skin tight, curving to the very shape of his body, and it wasn't about to stop with just his calves as it worked its way down his legs, growing before his very eyes. "Make it stop! Make it stop!" he yelled, but neither of the two offered any assistance, simply watching him futilely struggle to remove it. By the time he gave up, slumped against a locker, the nanites were covering his toes, each one individually so that when it stopped, it appeared as if it was seriously a part of his skin. In fact, if he didn't know any better... He just had to pinch his "new skin" to see if it was real, and he was met with the one thing he did not expect - pain! He quickly pulled his fingers away, not noticing the thin trail of nanites that had attached themselves to the tips of his thumb and forefinger. They spread like wildfire, coating his right hand in rubber in mere moments, and it didn't stop there, racing up his forearm and across his chest. It did not stop until everything below the neck was entirely encased in latex material. With the encasement done, that was the cue for Lyn to pull out the remainder of his uniform. The first thing was a collar. It was simply a black latex strap with a large pink heart gem in the middle of it. If Grant had gotten a better look, he would have noticed something written on the gaudy looking stone, but his mind was elsewhere, too freaked out by the what he was wearing. He looked up just in time to see the second item in her hand, thou he soon wished that he hadn't. In Lyn's hands was a large, pink, rubber penis gag. It was four inches long and was big enough to stretch his jaw wide open. He gagged on impulse. Did he have a dick in his mouth? Even though it was rubber, the very notion made him queasy and light headed. "I would say that he's now ready for his training, wouldn't you Eva?" Eva nodded eagerly and helped carry the young man into the gym area. They brought him to a machine that definitely didn't look like any sort of exercise equipment Grant had ever seen. It looked like some sort of alien metal detector, with a treadmill in between two large mechanical posts. On each of the posts hung dozens of different kinds of robotic arms, tubes and wires. On one side, there was a console with a large touchscreen that listed numerous options and settings. All of the parts were covered in sleek white plastic, giving it a very futuristic look. Grant's escorts brought him to the machine and positioned him on the treadmill between the posts. Lyn held him and helped keep him on his feet while Eva went behind the console and started fiddling with the controls. Suddenly, five of the mechanical arms on the posts activated and flew out at Grant, clasping around his ankles, wrists and waist. A sixth arm with a barcode reader came out and scanned the gem on Grant's collar. On Eva's screen, information on Grant's vital signs appeared, along with a list of recommended exercise scenarios. No longer needing to support him, Lyn retired to the console alongside Eva. "So, Lyn, what kind of workout should we give cute little Gabrielle?" Eva asked as she scrolled through the list of different workout settings. Grant couldn't help but groan around his gag at the girly name they'd given him. It was humiliating enough having his masculinity taken away and being forced to wear this "nano-tights" thing or whatever Eva had called it before. Having his identity completely stolen was the last thing he needed. "Hmm, he needs something to toughen up those little legs of his. They look so scrawny and weak. He can't even stand up on his own!" Lyn answered, pointing at Grant's legs and how they shook slightly even with the machine holding him up. "While we're at it, we should probably make his butt firmer. His posture definitely needs work too." "I agree. Perhaps we could try the prancing routine?" Eva said as she selected the option on the touchscreen and waited for the program to load. Grant looked at them in confusion. Prancing routine? What the hell did that mean? Were they going to stick him in a tutu and make him learn ballet? Lyn's eyes got a devious sparkle when Eva mentioned the plan. "Oooh, I love that one!" Once the program was fully loaded, Eva pushed the "Activate" button on the screen causing an alarm to ring out from it. "PRANCING ROUTINE ONE SELECTED. ANY PERSONS NOT USING THE MACHINE SHOULD CLEAR THE EXERCISE AREA AND REMOVE ALL LOOSE OBJECTS," said the machine's computerized voice as the various arms and attachments on it came to life. Grant's breathing quickened as he nervously watched the activity around him. Dozens of the smaller wires snaked out from the posts to different parts of his body, corresponding with muscle groups. He felt little pinpricks as each of them interfaced with the suit and attached to him. Little shocks of electricity flowed through them, reinvigorating Grant's weakened muscles and eliciting a muffled yelp from him. He felt the shocks strongest in his calves, forcing them to contract and making him stand on his toes. The latex on his feet started to shift, and Grant noticed that everything seemed to be getting shorter... Or rather, he was getting taller. The latex had built up into platforms around his toes, turning his feet into hooves. Grant's face burned with embarrassment. They weren't going to make him prance like a ballerina. They were going to make him prance like a show pony! The mechanical arms holding Grant's waist and ankles released him, but it wasn't much of a relief as he heard the whir of another arm rising up behind him. It was very close, he could feel it as it brushed against his backside. Then he felt something poking between his ass cheeks and his entire body stiffened with fear. Eva and Lyn giggled cruelly at his reaction. "Took him long enough to notice the posture hook. From the looks of it, it must be the first time he's had something up his ass!" Eva said. "Oh, they always act like that the first time, but they all learn to love it sooner or later," said Lyn. Grant shook his head frantically and cried out around his gag as the hook rose up, begging the two women to stop the machine. His muffled pleading only made them laugh harder, and the posture adjusting hook continued to rise up with the bottom now threatening to push through his pucker. Grant clenched and tried to resist it, but the nanites coating him reduced the friction enough that even with his struggling, the phallus was able to push into him easily. He clenched his eyes shut and moaned out in pain and humiliation. Even with the nanites easing things along, the sensation of the hook burrowing deep into him and spreading his insides was almost unbearable. Just as he felt like the pain couldn't get any worse, he felt the phallus rub against something inside of him that made him see stars. His legs trembled as perverse pleasure from it filled him. Grant was sure there was no way he could've felt worse about himself. Not only did he have a huge dildo up his ass, but he was enjoying it. For the first time, he didn't feel bad about his transformation- that seemed like nothing compared to this. The hook finally seated itself fully inside of him. The back of it was curved to resemble the contour of a person's spine when they stood up straight. A belt extended from the hook around Grant's waist, forcing him against the hook and straightening his posture. The machine's computerized voice sounded again, giving a countdown to when his "workout" would begin. Already, he could feel the treadmill starting to move slowly. Grant was sure that he was going to fall. The way that his feet were curved and pointed downward thanks to his new hooves was foreign to him. He couldn't stand well on his tippy-toes, let alone walk. He was surprised when an electric pulse ran through his left leg, forcing it to jump upwards of its own volition, knee reaching the height of his belly. As soon as it went down, he felt the same bolt go through his right leg causing the same thing to happen. So this was the machine that was supposed to help him walk again? It was hard to believe, especially whenever it pulled a leg up, it drove the strange hook deeper and deeper into his ass, pushing up against his sensitive prostate. The two supervisors would hear a low moan from him, not because of the shocks but because of the hook. "Ooo... I think he's starting to get into it, Lyn," Eva said mockingly, staring at young Grant's crotch. The "nano-tight" suit he wore wasn't like any other garment. It changed to suit both the needs of the wearer and the controller, and right now it was shifting and stretching around the boy's erection like a sort of sock. All four inches of it was on display, wrapped in a latex sheath. Poor Grant could hear the duo call it cute looking, which only made his cheeks blush red with embarrassment. A half an hour passed and the machine stopped its initial exercise of getting him to learn the proper way to lift his legs. He looked like a mess! The machine hadn't been too vigorous, but he felt like he had run a small marathon. His new muscles, when zapped with electricity, were doing five times the normal amount of work thanks to his hormone treatment. He could feel the lactic acid burn in his legs, but it dissipated with a short five minute break. They stopped hurting just in time for the machine to start up again, much to his horror. "PRANCING ROUTINE ONE STAGE TWO SELECTED. ANY PERSONS NOT USING THE MACHINE SHOULD CLEAR THE EXERCISE AREA AND REMOVE ALL LOOSE OBJECTS," it blared once more. His training was far from over. What he had just gone through was a simple tutorial on how to bend his legs. The real fun started now as more components descended from the machine. One was a short, clear glass tube, while the other was a helmet. Both enveloped another part of his body. The helmet completely covered the upper portion of his head including his eyes. It was like a large, white bowl that clung to him tightly, completely shutting off all sound and sight from the outside world. The glass tube swallowed his jutting rod all the way to its base. Grant had never been afraid of the dark, but he was really starting to worry with his whole world shut off to him. He was starting to panic. What now? What could they possibly do to him now? He didn't have to wait for long as a screen inside the helmet turned on, displaying an old country road. He then groaned when he realized that this was just some cheap virtual reality headset. He had one just like it at home! Well, his mother did anyway. He stole it one day to play Call of Duty with his pals, but the stupid thing just gave him a headache. Now here he was, forced to stare at some scenery with it. "WALK." The robotic voice of the computer suddenly made Grant jump inside of his skin, spooked. It wanted him to walk? Well what if he didn't? His legs still felt sore, and he wasn't even sure if he could to be honest. However, not trying brought the machine's wrath down on him in the form of a sharp electrical shock to his rectum through his posture hook. The pain was unbelievable, forcing a muffled shriek out of his lungs. It lasted for barely five seconds, but to him, it may as well have been an eternity. Coming down off of his brief brush with torture, the machine allowed him a short reprieve before once again issuing the simple command. "WALK." Knowing the consequences this time, Grant didn't dare disobey. Doing his best, he lifted his left leg up to take a step forward, but not even that was enough as electrical zaps assaulted his rectum, though a lot less severe than when he disobeyed outright. "HIGHER." Grant's leg wobbled as he pulled his leg upward, doing his best to consciously imitate what the machine had earlier forced him to do - first with his left leg and then with his right. For a moment, nothing happened. He was afraid that it was going to shock him once more, but instead of a shock, he felt something else. The hook in his ass began to vibrate, buzzing against his prostate gently. It was working in tandem with the strange cylinder around his cock, sucking on it gently. Even with its covering, pre was able to leak out of it, immediately going down a tube to who knows where. "OBEDIANCE BRINGS PLEASURE. RESISTANCE BRINGS PAIN. NOW. WALK." The treadmill underneath his feet once again activated, and so he began his prancing exercise in earnest. His good form was awarded just as much as he was punished when he got sloppy. "LEFT. RIGHT. LEFT. RIGHT. LEFT. RIGHT." "Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right." He followed the rhythm of the voice, lifting his legs as high as he could each time. The vibrator was constantly whirring in his tight bum. He didn't know why, but it felt really good. "OBEDIANCE IS PLEASURE." "Resistance is pain," he thought to himself unconsciously. His mind was falling into a rut, with the machine reminding him of what to do and how to stay on task in order to avoid the dreaded shock he had swiftly grown to fear. Even with the machine's droning voice forcing him to focus, the exercise was still difficult. His legs grew more weary with each step, and the vibrator was distracting, to say the least. Although it felt wonderful, the pressure against his G-spot was also proving to be quite a distraction as well, and it made his legs even more wobbly than weariness alone. The machine had already punished him a few times for getting too caught up in the sensation. The difficulty ramped up even more as Grant felt the treadmill start to speed up. "FASTER." Grant tried his best to keep up. By now, he was moving at the pace of a slow jog, and the effects on the quality of his marching were showing as he slouched a bit and didn't raise his legs as high as before. The machine was quick to reprimand him for his sloppiness with a powerful jolt up his rear. "MAINTAIN GRACE AND POISE." "Maintain grace and poise," his thoughts parroted back once he'd recovered from the pain. He didn't need any more encouragement to straighten his posture and lift his knees. Soon enough, he was moving just as well as before, trotting like a good little filly. It was slowly becoming easier to continue with the workout as he tuned out the burning in his legs and only focused on what the machine told him to do. After a while, it didn't even need to tell him what to do- his own mind took over that role. "Lift your knees higher! Back straight! With grace and poise! Obedience is pleasure, resistance is pain!" Grant's brain played those thoughts over and over again as he ran, enabling him to keep going even when the machine sped up again. Meanwhile, Eva and Lyn had been watching his progress. His special collar was reporting all of his real life vital signs including brainwaves. They could tell by looking at his readouts that he had reached "the point." He was no longer thinking for himself on a conscious level. The subliminal conditioning was beginning to sink its hooks into him. "I think this is a record. It usually takes at least another hour for most to get to this point on their first time," Eva stated, leaning on Lyn's shoulder. "I wonder if it's because of the new software or because he really likes it..." Like it or not, Grant was giving the program all that he could muster. He was a show pony after all. Show ponies need to know how to prance! The same mantra repeated in his ears even as the prancing turned into a galloping exercise, and from galloping to plain trotting. "Lift your knees higher! Back straight! With grace and poise! Obedience is pleasure, resistance is pain!" It never stopped, never failed to keep him on task. That is, until suddenly, the treadmill began to slow to a stop, signaling that the lesson was drawing to a close. The two women were smiling. They knew what was about to happen. If the subject did exceptionally well, their reward was sweet ecstasy. They were allowed release and wouldn't have to repeat the lesson again. Those that failed though, they were given a concussive zap and were given a random punishment that no one would enjoy. Grant breathed heavily through his nostrils as he tried to catch his breath. Beneath the helmet, his face was covered with sweat and his bangs matted to his face. The prancing mantra kept repeating in his head, though it was slowly being drowned out by relief that the exercise was now over. On the display in front of him he could see a message saying "PRANCING ROUTINE ONE COMPLETE." "CALCULATING PARTICIPANT PERFORMANCE SCORE. PLEASE WAIT..." Wait, he was being graded on how he did? The revelation completely destroyed any relief Grant felt from finishing the lesson. He tried to think back to when he was doing the exercise, hoping that he didn't make too many glaring mistakes, but he couldn't really remember it. It was almost like it had gone by in a blur to him. "SATISFACTORY PERFORMANCE THRESHOLD FOR EXERCISE: 8.0. PARTICIPANT PERFORMANCE SCORE: 8.8. SCORE SATISFACTORY. LESSON PASSED. STANDBY FOR PARTICIPANT REWARD." Grant was a bit surprised to find that he'd passed. After all that he'd been through, he'd pretty much expected to fail. He wasn't exactly relieved though, as he had no idea what this "reward" was. The question was soon answered when he felt the hook pushing up further into him, pressing far harder on his prostate than it had during the exercise. It then began vibrating with such intensity he could practically feel it rattling his bones. The tube tugged on his cock almost painfully. The stimulation was so intense that he climaxed with 30 seconds of it starting in what was perhaps the most intense orgasm of his life. Neither the helmet nor the gag could contain the loud moan he let out as his cum shot straight through its latex covering and was greedily sucked up by the machine. "Looks like he really did enjoy it," Lyn said with a little chuckle as Grant slumped down in his restraints, unconscious. "Let's get him cleaned up and get him ready for bed. If he thought today was tough, just wait until tomorrow..."