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REMODELLED By Geneva Ephraim, a wealthy businessman, takes his revenge on an old enemy, James, using an old magic book to make him into Natasha, his female slave. Natasha resists unsuccessfully, but escapes to a new life. This uses the theme of my earlier story, "Plaything," but is written from the point of view of James/Natasha. START The mail has just dropped off two packages. I am curious when I see they have Dutch stamps. When I open them I stare at the contents and I have to sit down. I am trembling, as they remind me of a part of my life that I wanted to put behind me. I remember the events and how they started, only too clearly. .............. I didn't know what had happened. It was as if one minute I was having a drink with an old acquaintance, then the next I woke up in total darkness. My head felt heavy and I could not focus my thoughts. Then, as my head cleared, I found I was lying on some thin mattress. I was totally naked, but what was worse, there was something round my neck. Feeling at it, it appeared to be a collar of some type, made of smooth metal, and with a flexible braided metal cable attached. I tugged at the collar, but it remained fixed round my neck. Feeling at it carefully, I couldn't even make out any join in it. Running my hands along it, I decided it was about six feet long before it connected with a steel plate mounted on a concrete or smooth stone wall. I shouted out repeatedly but there was no response. The only sound was a faint humming noise that could have been anything. I cried out again, every ten seconds or so for some minutes but there was nothing. I was starting to panic with claustrophobia and I forced myself to breathe slowly. When I got my mind under control I decided to investigate by touch. I pulled as much against the cable as I could without choking and stretched out my arms. My fingertips only just reached another surface. It was smooth but warmer to the touch than the concrete or stone, and I assumed it was painted smooth wood. I felt around the mattress. In fact it was quite narrow, only three feet or so wide, and was up against another concrete wall. Holding my arms in front of me, I felt around in the darkness. At one end of the bed I found a cool metal surface, shaped like a basin, and on its far edge a faucet. As I moved to its side I cursed when I hit my shins on a hard edge. This was a deeper bowl, also in cold metal. There was water in it and behind it I felt a cold cistern. It was obviously a toilet and it appeared that I was in some kind of cell. I did not understand why I was there or how I got there. In my desperation and confusion I shouted and screamed again but there was no effect. A stomach churning terror took me again. Was I to be left there to starve and die? Eventually I must have fallen asleep, even in my terror. I was awakened by a faint sound and I saw a faint light coming through what I now made out as a barred opening in the cell door. The angle was not quite right to see it fully but I gasped as a shape appeared at the bars. It was a hooded figure in a dark cloak. I shuddered at its sinister appearance. "What is happening? " I cried. "Where am I? Why am I here?" But the figure made no sound. As it disappeared below the barred window, a flap opened in the base of the door and a tray slid to the floor. A dim light went on in my cell. I smelled its contents of the tray, immediately realizing how hungry I was. The tray had three dishes, one with some kind of chicken stew, another with rice and vegetables, and a third with two pieces of fruit and a large plastic tumbler filled with water. There was soap and a cloth on the tray too. I was almost grateful. They would not give me food or soap if I were to be killed. "What is this? Why am I being held here?" I cried out but there was no reply. The figure turned and I heard a door being opened and shut, leaving me alone in the dim light. I pulled against the cable again and screamed but it had no effect. Almost crying with frustration I sat on the bed and looked at the food. I was hungry but I used the soap first, aware that my hands were filthy, the same with the rest of me, I supposed. I turned the faucet at the sink. It had controls for hot or cold water and I washed my hands and face. I dried myself on a roll of absorbent paper by the sink. The smell of the food brought me back to the tray and I ate. I was hungry and I wanted to gulp it down but I forced myself to eat slowly, finishing it completely and emptying the tumbler. Then I saw a note on the tray. The lighting was dim but it was in large print and I was able to make out the words. It said that I would be fed three times per day, but that I must return the tray to the flap when I was finished. I placed the tray at the flap and sat alone in the semidarkness. I had the idea of grabbing the hand that pushed it in, but the next time the shrouded figure opened the flap, a hooked stick or something was used to pull the tray out, and replace it with a full tray. As before, the food was tasty and well cooked but the figure paid no attention to my entreaties and, in tears again, I was left alone. There was a slight change the next time. The tray had more, soap, a soft cloth and towel, and another note. It instructed me to wash completely. There was even some hair shampoo and gratefully I washed my hair in the sink. I felt much better but I noticed that the soap and shampoo were scented like a woman's perfume. The next time, the light went on fully, dazzling me and eventually I made out that it was not the hooded figure at the cell door this time, but a slim, pretty woman. Her heels clicked as she moved around. Through the small window I saw she was dressed in a dark gray skirted suit. When she came up to the barred window I saw a crisp white blouse under it, and a row of pearls at her throat and small pearl earrings in her earlobes. Her dark hair was taken up in a French braid, and her lips and eyes were expertly made up. I got a whiff of a delicate scent. "Good morning, " she said. "I am called Edith. I will be looking after you from now on." Her voice was matter-of -fact, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for her to see an imprisoned naked man in front of her. I cried out again, "Why am I here? Where am I? Let me out of here! What have I done?" She just shook her head. "You will find out soon enough. Now, you have washed yourself?" she asked, as if I was a child. "Yes, but..." "Then do it again tomorrow morning. Oh yes, it is morning just now, about nine. You've probably lost touch with the time. Would you like something to read? It must be getting boring in there." I lost my temper and I screamed at her but she simply turned away. The clicking of her heels on the cement floor died away and I was alone again. I was terrified that she would not return, confusing and threatening as our meeting had been. Her voice was the first I had heard in my imprisonment. She returned twice that day, each time with trays of food. At the last one she warned me. "Make sure you wash well tomorrow morning. Now, you should get some sleep," and before I could react the light reverted to its usual dimness. I wondered what was going to happen in the morning, if I had to wash especially carefully. I was wakened by the noise of a door opening. It was Edith again and this time my cell door swung fully open. I felt a sudden relief that I might get out from my confining cell, but I was fully exposed to her. She was completely dressed, but this time in a close fitting belted dress, black, with a pattern of orange and gold flowers on it, its hem just an inch or so above the knee, while I was absolutely naked. Today her hair hung loose. She did not appear to be fazed by my nakedness. "You washed yourself?" "No," I mumbled, "but I'll do it right away." I was still naked and, embarrassed, I tried to cover myself as I ran hot water and washed myself completely. For some reason I wanted to please her. She just idly watched me as I ran water and soaped myself all over. "Good! Make sure you are clean." "Please, can you remove this collar?" "No, it will stay on you for some time more." "Why not?" I almost screamed the words. But I hoped what she had said meant that I would be alive some time longer. Ignoring my question and my distress, she threw a towel to me and watched as I dried myself. She looked at me critically, as if examining me. "I think you are ready now." "What for?" "The next phase!" She turned and went out of the room. Inadvertently I was drawn to her legs and rear as she left. Her legs, ending in moderately high heels, were nicely shaped. Her butt pushed out her skirt nicely. Her walk was graceful. She was an attractive woman and I wondered how she became involved in my imprisonment. The cell door was open and I frantically tugged again at my collar but it did not give a fraction of an inch. Edith returned again in a minute, this time with a small object in her hands, a book with a yellow cover. "You know what this is?" "Of course I don't! It's a dirty-looking little book. So what?" "This book is going to change your life. You see, it has a magic spell in it that is going to make you into a woman." I think I heard her wrong and it must have been my expression that made her repeat it, but I was still totally bewildered. "What? Magic? Make me into a woman? Don't be ridiculous!" "Yes, I admit it is hard to believe. I didn't either, but it works very well. It did on me. I was once a man. Now I'm remodeled, you might say. I'm very happy with the results." I peered at her. I wondered if I had been imprisoned by a female lunatic. My disbelief must have shown in my face. "I see you don't believe me. Then let me show you that I am a woman." "I've no doubt that you are a woman! But why you want me to think you were once a man is beyond me!" I was astonished when she began to undress. She kicked off her shoes, undid her belt and reached to behind her neck. I heard the faint hiss of a zipper. She reached behind her back and again there was the sound of a zipper. She eased her dress off her shoulders, let it fall in front of her and stepped out of it, laying it carefully on a chair. She was wearing a white slip with lace at its hem and over her bust. Under it the outlines of her underwear were visible. She pulled her slip over her head and she was left with a white bra, white garter belt, white panties and tan stockings. She was a very attractive woman and despite my predicament I was stimulated by her near nakedness. I tried to hide my erection but she just laughed at me. Her long female fingers, each tipped with red nails, flashed as she slowly undid her garters. Her manner was teasing, alternating between suggestive glances below exaggeratedly lowered eyebrows, with undulations of her hips. She sat down on the chair and smoothly and expertly slid one stocking off her leg, then the other. Reaching behind her, she unhooked her bra, provocatively letting the ends swing for a few seconds before the straps trickled down her arms. Finally she rose and slipped down her white panties and unhooked her garter belt, letting it fall and leaving herself completely naked, beautifully so. At her groin there was a small patch of dark blonde hair. Her breasts were full, high and firm. "So you see, James, I am a woman completely. But I was once a man. Shall I open my legs to convince you?" I was in the control of a mad exhibitionist and I did not want to allow her the satisfaction of teasing me. "This is ridiculous. Yes, I see you are a woman, but you can't have been a man. Are you out of your mind?" "I assure you that I was a man. So the spell is very effective, as you are going to see." She pointed to my erection. "And that is the last erection you will ever have." Her words made me uneasy and I felt myself soften. "Now, you can wait 'til I dress," and she began to reverse her procedure. When she was finished she flipped her long hair behind her. Her mannerisms were entirely female but she was showing off too. She was a temptress and knew it. I shook my head in disbelief. "Who are you really?" I sighed. "I was called Edward. Now I am called Edith. I was given a chance to change, which makes me eternally grateful. All right, I think it is time to begin." "But why are you doing this charade?" "Because, James, James Kaiser is your name, isn't it? You see, you have made an enemy of a powerful man. He means to take revenge on you for years of slights and insults. Not only that, your behavior has been a disgrace. You have taken advantage of many women, so you are to be made into a woman yourself. From now on you will lead an entirely female life, as this man's plaything. Your future life will be limited by what he orders for you." "This is ridiculous," I tried again. "I was having a drink with an old acquaintance. "Then... " I tried to remember. "Then I woke up in that cell. He will be wondering what has... happened.... to ....me." I stopped with a sudden realization. "Ephraim Vandervelt?" I screamed. "Is he the one who has planned this?" Vandervelt and I had been friends as boys. His parents were servants of my parents. Our ways had parted but occasionally he had visited me back in the family home. I knew he had become a billionaire financier and industrialist. "He is the one behind this? You will let me go! I will contact the police about this madness." I tried to lunge at her but the cable jerked my neck and I choked. "Yes, it is Ephraim. He has been my benefactor and I am pleased to help him. "Now, James, we have delayed long enough. Time I read the spell. Are you ready to be remodeled too?" she giggled. She opened the book at a bookmark and began to read in a clear, woman's voice. The words made no sense. The sounds were like none I have ever heard. It only took a minute. She closed the book and slipped it into a pocket in her jacket. I stared at her and looked down at my body. Nothing had changed. "Your so-called magic has not worked," I sneered. "Now stop this nonsense and release me!" She shook her head slowly. "It will start in a short time." She left me alone, but returned in less than a minute in the company of a shrouded figure. As I gaped, the figure slipped the hood and let the rest of the robes fall to the floor. It was Ephraim Vandervelt! "Ephraim!" I cried out. "What is this madness? I demand that you release me. The sooner you do it the better or ....." He cut me off. His tone was contemptuous. "Or what? You are my prisoner. If I wanted I could wall you up alive in that cell. But my taste is to revenge, not murder. You call it madness? No, it is a long anticipated revenge. You insulted and demeaned me since we were boys." He snorted. "You probably did not even recognize your own arrogance. But now I intend to destroy who you were. A new life waits for you, but as a woman, and my plaything. Your life from now on will be guided as I see fit." "And how? Your stupid spell does not work!" "Impatient as well as arrogant! Give it a minute. I assure you it does. Edith has told you it does. It worked well for her. Isn't she a beautiful woman? " I glanced at Edith. Her beautiful face was flawed by a smug expression. I felt a sudden shiver and Vanderveld nodded knowingly. "You see? You shivered. That is the spell starting. First, you'll get very severe shivers, like the worst fever you ever experienced. You'll fall asleep, then in about a day and a half you'll wake up, but as a woman, a beautiful one, I might add. By that time I will have transported you to my island off the west coast. There, with Edith, and my sister Louise helping her, I'm going to set you into the life of a woman, and you'll be my plaything." Plaything? Like Edith, he was totally serious. I was uneasy with the mention of Louise. I remembered that I had seduced her once. She must have been sixteen at the time. Then she had disappeared. I was taken with another shiver, barely over before I shivered again. I felt terror as the shaking became so continuous that I staggered and sank to the floor. My vision went dark and I was aware of nothing more. I woke up only gradually, aware that time had passed. I had vivid tumbling dreams, slowly changing into consciousness but with confused and incoherent thoughts. I could not remember how or where I was. The feel of the bed was unfamiliar. I just felt utterly lost. I had a bone- deep lassitude, and I ached all over. My throat and mouth were parched and my tongue was numb. I was on my stomach, but somehow it felt different. My arms were splayed out over the bed. My fingers rubbed the fabric of the sheets, aware that it was smooth and slippery. I made an attempt to rise but my body did not want to respond. Even turning over was an effort. Sometime later I was lying on my back, my legs slightly open. My hand found its way to my crotch and it began to penetrate into my mind that something was not right. For some reason the familiar bulges of my penis and scrotum were gone. Half conscious, I fumbled between my legs but I found nothing. It did not make sense. Exploring, I discovered a prominent vertical groove and, further down, soft folds, and strangely, a moist opening edged with a rim of soft flesh. The discovery jolted me wide awake. I recognized what I was touching, but it made no sense for my own body to feel the probing fingers. I jerked upright up and looked down, but my eyes were immediately taken with the sight of two female breasts pushing out from my chest. Each was tipped with a prominent pink nipple, surrounded with a large areola. They were real-looking female breasts, but each was nestled in curly male chest hair, my hair. Screaming, I felt at the breasts, recognizing by their texture that they were real. I gave another scream of terror, my own, realizing that my voice had changed too, strangely high pitched. I pulled at the breasts, trying to remove them, but the pain finally made me stop. I pushed open my legs and stared below my belly, with another scream, changing from anguish to terror. My penis and scrotum were totally missing! Then I remembered the so-called spell that had been recited to me. I was broken. They had threatened magic and it had worked! I was immersed in a female body. By some terrible process I had been changed into a woman! I looked at my hands. They were small women's hands with long tapered fingers. My feet were small too, and delicate looking. I tried to get up, falling back several times until I got used to my changed strength and mobility. At least I was now free of the collar. I felt at my neck but only found a slight roughness. I remembered that Edith, then Ephraim, had said they were going to make me into a woman. Unless I was seriously hallucinating they had been successful! I heard the door of the room opening. I was naked but I did not have the presence of mind to cover myself. Ephraim Vandervelt, the woman Edith and, Louise, Vanderveld's sister-I recognized her-entered the room. I made an attempt to rush past them but I was far too weak and awkward. Vanderveld grabbed my hands easily then, holding them in his left hand, he slapped me on the face, twice, jolting my head back with each blow. He pointed to the chair. "You will sit there!" I was overwhelmed and, in tears, my face stinging, I crept to the chair, and sat hunched on it like a delinquent child. Vanderweld glared at me. "It's time you were awake! I wondered if you might die from the spell. You will weak for a day or so. We have a lot of instruction and training for you, but that can wait for a couple of days." He gestured to the woman by him. "This is Louise. No doubt you remember her? So she and I, with Edith's help, will supervise you. "Maybe you are curious about the book. I found it hidden away in an old library in Germany," said Ephraim, "but how it got there I don't know. Most of the explanations are in old German, but the actual spells are in some unknown language. "So, as you have discovered, you are now in a woman's body, and it is a woman's life ahead for you. I'll give you a mirror soon, and you will see that you are actually a very attractive female. What are you now, about thirty four? Yes, I am a little older than you and I am thirty five. Yes, you will be a very attractive woman. You're not a girl any more, but you'll keep your beauty for many decades. Your body is slim too. You'll keep your good figure if you give a little attention to diet and exercise. "You will do nothing to destroy your beauty, " he said forcefully. "You will enhance and protect it as much as possible with your clothing and grooming. You'll have noticed that you still have a lot of male pattern hair. That will fall out very soon, and you'll be left with the body hair a woman of your age would have. Oh yes, the hair on your head. You will not be allowed to cut it for some time. You will let it grow until it is waist length, or at least to mid back. However, you will remove all body hair, whether by waxing or shaving I've not decided yet. "For the first days Edith and Louise will supervise you. Another woman is here too to help them in case you resist. I should let you know that I will have no hesitation in having you whipped or beaten with a whip or riding crop for any resistance or rebellion. You understand?" " Please, change me back." I pleaded. "Whatever I have done to injure you I do not deserve this." Louise spat at my feet. "You miserable creature! You seduced me and left me. You have insulted my brother for years. You have seduced other women too. Now you will pay. Your old life is destroyed. Being a woman is a privilege, but it can be a penalty, and you will feel that over the coming years." Edith lifted my face in her hand to face her. Her bright red lips were in my face. "I've found being a woman a privilege. No, more like a dream come true. But I'm free to come and go from here. You are not. You will be a prisoner here. "Now then, we'd better get you prepared. It's a day or two too early yet for you to start your training, but not for your grooming. Come with me." I noticed that Vanderveld had left. She took my arm and guided me into another room. "You will use this room." There was a bed with two chairs, a mirrored dressing table with another chair in front of it, and a chest of drawers. The room was fairly large. It was carpeted in a rose pink, with pictures on the walls. There was what looked like a bathroom and a closet off the room. The bed had a floral printed duvet and lacy pillows. There was even a vase with flowers. It was a woman's room. A large woman had followed us in. She looked very imposing and strong, and as if she was waiting for me. I had shrunk, maybe by six inches and she could easily keep me under control. "James?" said Edith, shaking her head, " I think we should get a nice female name for you, but anyway, this is Mary. She will help you adjust. Yes, she is strong. She used to work at a woman's prison. I will leave you now." "Good morning, miss," said Mary. Her manner was polite, but it did not hide her air of authority. "First, you should get washed. I'll help you, miss." She took my arm. Her grip showed me how strong she was and I did resist as she led me to a shower in the bathroom. She turned it on, tested the temperature and pushed me into it, completely naked. "Wash yourself," she commanded, handing me shampoo and soap. It was a feminine scented shampoo but actually it was a relief to be able to wash. Since I woke up I had felt grubby and I must have wet myself too. The disgust added to my feeling of helplessness. I got some measure of comfort under the warm shower but, when I saw Mary frowning at me and pointing to her watch, I finished and stepped out. She handed me a soft pink towel, and I rubbed myself. I gasped when I saw blonde hair on the towel. It had stripped from my arms, legs and chest. I was suddenly aware that I had to dry my chest more carefully when the towel caught on my prominent nipples. She passed me a comb and sat me in front of the mirror. I stared at the woman facing me. Her face looked drawn and desperate, like a panicked hunted animal's. Her mouth was hanging open in shock. Yet she was a beauty, with even features, a small nose, delicate eyebrows and high cheeks. Her neck was long and smooth, with no sign of an Adam's apple. Her eyes were blue, the same colour as mine had been. Her hair was blonde too. If I looked carefully at her, I could see some of my own features and coloring, but subtly changed to make a female beauty. Her figure too, was all female, and beautifully shaped. She was slim, but with well formed breasts and a prominent butt and hips below a well- indented waist. Her legs were long, with slim thighs rounded calves and neat ankles. I felt at the back of my head. It was missing the small ridge that men have. "You should comb your hair. Dry it first," she commanded. She passed me a hair dryer and a comb. When my hair was dry I obediently pulled the comb through it. There were only a few tangles. "Now brush it, miss. Twenty times. And as your hair grows you will do it more." She opened a drawer in a chest and pulled out two garments, both in a pale blue. "Put these on!" she commanded and passed them to me. I was shocked. She had given me a pair of panties and a peignoir. "No!" I screamed. "That's women's stuff!" then I looked at her stern face and numbly I stepped into the panties and slipped on the gown. I was blushing. They did not hide much, but they were better than being naked. " Good, miss. Now, I will give you something to eat. It will be only a few minutes." As she went out the door I heard it being locked. The room was warm, but I still felt goose bumps from the touch of the thin sheer fabric on my skin. They did not hide much. Both my nipples and the blonde hair at the base of my belly showed. The hair was much less than I had before as a man, and it was in a woman's pattern. I folded the material over my groin to try to hide it but it did not help much. I looked round the room frantically. There was a large window, with a view over the sea. Thinking of a possible escape I looked out, but immediately out of the window there was a cliff edge with a gray sea churning below it. Away out on the water, a couple or so miles away there were two vessels. One looked like a freighter, the other a ferry. They had people, free people, going about their business and lives while I was a prisoner here, under the control of a maniac and his servants, and dreadfully changed. I shivered. On the wall, in a corner there hung a riding crop, a long bamboo rod and a five-stranded whip. I had no doubt they would be used on me if necessary. I checked the chests of drawers. Most were empty, but one contained more panties, all sheer, in various colours and another had another peignoir, just as sheer as the one I was wearing, but with a lacy trim at its hem and short sleeves. The built-in closet had bare shelves and empty hangers. Two shoe racks, were also empty except for two pairs of fur-trimmed mules, one with high heels. I looked at the pictures and art on the walls. All were feminine scenes, one of them a framed vintage girdle advertisement showing a model being fitted for a girdle, another showing a Victorian lady in her crinoline. Another was a watercolor of a vase of flowers. I shuddered. They were intending to brainwash me with the clothes and furnishings, not to mention my changed body. I turned around as the door opened. It was Edith again, with Mary behind her, carrying a tray with food. I realized I was very hungry. "I imagine you explored the room," said Edith. "And, by the way, for your information, it's thick glass on the window. The cliff is a hundred feet high and the water below is deep. I would not recommend trying to escape. But if you did, what do you think you would accomplish? You are a woman. You have no clothes. You have no identity. Your previous male self has vanished and no one would believe you if you tried to lay claim to your possessions. No, you will have to stay here and accept what we do to you. Pleasant breakfast!" "Why are you doing this to me. I have not harmed you?" "Ephraim has been a good friend. Besides, I am curious to see how successful the treatment is with another person!" She turned and went out the door. She had laid the tray down on a little cart. By this time I was only too glad to eat. The dishes had grilled bacon, an easy-over egg, one slice of toast, a cup of coffee and a glass of peach juice. I had barely eaten some before I recognized that it was my usual breakfast. Someone must have been familiar with it. So I had been under observation even before all of this. Mary was watching me, as if I were a child, and her looming presence made me eat carefully. "Good," she said, "you show good manners. That's a start." "Please, let me out of here," I pleaded, but she was adamant. "Just suppose I did! Edith has told you what could happen." She gave small contemptuous laugh. "You'd probably be locked up as a madwoman! "Now, you are finished? So you better brush your teeth. The rest of the day is yours. It's now around ten so you will get another meal at one and another at six, the same tomorrow. The day after that you'll begin your training." "Training? How do you mean?" "You have a woman's body, but at the moment you still have a man's mind. So, you are to be treated as a woman. As one part of that, you will wear only typical women's clothing day and night from now on. What you have on just now is to give you a taste, but you'll need quite a few visits to stores, boutiques, dressmakers and others for all your clothing and shoes." Her voice was forceful. "I repeat, you are now a woman. You will be taught to groom yourself and make yourself up yourself as a woman. You will be trained in a woman's deportment. You'll have all the experiences of a woman, yes, sexual ones too." He tone suddenly changed. "But, more of that later! If you need help, ring that bell on the dressing table." She picked up the dishes, and left, locking the door behind her. I thought of the implications of what she said. My previous life had disappeared and I was to be forced into a new existence. Mary had said I would have all the sexual experiences and I shuddered when I thought of the implications. But I would resist being made to behave as a woman! I tried the door but it was definitely locked. Holding my flimsy clothing to me as I paced the floor, I tried to think of a way out of this mess. But Edith was right. I couldn't escape, perhaps I did not dare to, as then I would be stuck in this body. My only hope would be if there were some way to reverse the spell and I could find a way of doing it. This Mary might act like a servant, but she was more like a wardress. I switched on a small radio by the bed. Most programs were filled with inane chatter but one had a selection of music and I left it on to help calm me. A bookcase had some books on its shelves but all were titles by female authors. The magazines in a holder were all were women's stuff. It had been a traumatic day since I woke up and I lay down on the bed to think. I must have dozed a bit until I was wakened by Mary, with another meal. I needed to go to the toilet and I excused myself. I was humiliated that I had pull down the panties and sit down. "Make sure you wash your hands," Mary commanded through the door. It made me furious. I stamped out of the bathroom, but one look at her humorless face and I thought better of it, and I sat to have the meal, a salad, with one slice of bread and some fruit. There was a glass of fruit juice to drink. It was a pleasant meal but it was only about half of what I normally ate. "This is all?" I asked. "It will be adequate for you. You will not gain weight. You will get used to this amount, however, you may have a cup of coffee. I see you take it with milk only." Later, alone, I sat nursing my coffee, staring out the large window. A few seabirds hovered in the breeze over the cliffs and I envied them their ability to fly away. I worried about what might happen, but I was bored too. In the evening I got another meal, a little more substantial, a salad, sliced roast beef with potatoes and green beans and even a small dish of ice cream. The next day was the same. I was even more bored, but more apprehensive too. 'Training', whatever it was, was getting nearer. The morning after that Mary woke me up. She seemed especially concerned to have me wash properly. Her fussing irritated me. All she had to do was smell the female perfumed soap on me. I had no other choice. I had just had breakfast when Edith came in. This time she was wearing a dark red fitted dress with black, heeled pumps. A jeweled pin sat above her left breast. Her dark hair had been put up into a chignon and she was wearing gold earrings. Her face was perfectly made up, even to discreet eye shadow. She looked beautiful, but very efficient. "It's time we got started and I see we have not decided on a name for you. Obviously James is unsuitable, and there are no female names that come easily from 'James'. Ephraim and I have been thinking about it. We think you should have something very feminine, perhaps with a touch of the exotic. We have decided on Natasha. Your features could be Russian." " I am not any fucking Natasha," I shouted. "My name is James and I am a man, not a woman. You will change me back!" I jumped up and the breakfast tray spilled on the floor. She hissed at me. "You obviously have not been listening. You are woman now, and forever! Accept it!" She slapped my face twice, hard, and I cried out in pain, humiliation and helplessness. "We have been too lenient with you. Any more and you will be punished severely!" Mary had left the room but returned with some cleaning materials. "You will apologize to Mary!" At Edith's glare I broke down. "Mary, I am sorry," I sniffled. Edith looked me up and down. "It is now two days since you woke up. I see you have now lost all of your male hair. That is good. I suppose you will be getting tired of these clothes. Hmm? It's time we got you some more, and first on the agenda, I think, is to get you some proper female underwear. First, you will wash your face again and get rid of these tears! This afternoon we are having a corsetiere visit you. She will fit you with some foundation garments. You will need some bras, I think about six to begin with. Then some girdles. Ephraim has said he wants you to wear high-waisted open girdles, so perhaps four of these, maybe one or two corselettes too. She will bring stockings for you too. You are to wear stockings always, skirts or dresses! No pants! Ever!" "You can't make me! These are woman's clothes," I screamed. "And you are a woman. You are to be treated like one, and that means appropriate garments. You are to wear stockings always. Wouldn't you like having your legs in sheer fine hosiery?" She raised here eyebrows and gave a suggestive smile. "But first, let me check your feet and your hands." She frowned. "Yes, you need a manicure and pedicure too. Your feet are too rough and you will rip your nylons. A beautician will be here later to fix that." I tried to pull my hands away but she held onto them. "You will submit to this or you will be beaten. You see on the wall over there? A whip, a stick and a riding crop! Which would you prefer?" I knew by her eyes that she meant it. I could not conceive of being beaten by any of them. I needed to escape this insanity, regardless, but I would have to plan it. In the meantime, I would have to accept what they did to me. Apparently an appointment had been made and in a half hour a small woman was brought into my room. "Natasha, this is Mollie. She is a beautician. She will look after your grooming. She will be a regular visitor." Mollie gave me a shy smile. "Glad to know you, Natasha." She made a few pleasantries that I replied to with as much politeness as I could muster. "We should get started. Would you like to sit down and I'll have a look at your feet? " she asked. She frowned as she looked at my hands and feet. "A lot of work needed here, Natasha, but I 'll start with a manicure. Then you will have neat, pretty nails." She dipped my fingers into a soapy solution. "It's to soften the nails and cuticles, Natasha." She carefully pushed down my cuticles and shaped my nails with an abrasive board. When she was done she opened a bottle of pink nail polish and carefully coated my nails, her tongue at the corner of her mouth in her concentration. The nails looked neat, but I fumed inwardly and fidgeted. This would be inflicted on me regularly unless I was able to escape. "Do you like them?" she asked expectantly, but I just grunted in reply. My feet were next. She filed, scraped and abraded the heels and soles with a pumice stone until my feet were tingling. The heels felt especially tender. She messed around with my toenails too, just like my fingernails and finally applied a matching polish to them. She gathered up her tools. "All right then, we're done. I will see you in a day or two, Natasha, to fix your hair." It gave me a feeling of helplessness. I looked at my fingernails, shaped into feminine ovals and my toenails, all painted. I tested my feet with my hands. They were tender, but soft and smooth. These women were forcing me into a female mold. Louise came in to my room just as Mollie finished. She looked me over, with an expression of malicious satisfaction. "Yes, you are coming along. Did you get the right shade of the polish?" she asked sarcastically, a slight smile on her lips, but not in her eyes. "So, you are now ready for the next stage. You are to be fitted for some undergarments by a corsetiere. She'll be here this afternoon. She already has a good idea of your size as we measured you when you were unconscious. Then tomorrow morning, we will go to a big store over on the mainland. You'll need quite a lot of clothing, a full wardrobe in fact. Ephraim specified that all were to be in soft feminine fabrics but I suppose, as you will be on this island most of the time, we'll have to take into account windy and cold days." I cringed. These people were set on now adding all feminine accessories and clothing, reinforcing my female body. Yet, what did my mind tell me? I was male, I kept reminding myself. They might try to force me into a female mold, but I would resist whenever I could and always be on the lookout for a method to reverse my predicament and better, to escape. That afternoon, while I was still dressed in the stupid flimsy peignoir and panties, a woman was brought to my room lugging several suitcases. Edith introduced her as Helene. "I use Helene for all my own foundation garments." As if I cared! "Well," said Helene, appraising me, "You look very pretty, Natasha, and I hear you want some foundation garments. Your figure looks good, but a little bit of help is always welcome. So, why don't you slip off your peignoir?" Edith eased it off my shoulders before I could stop her. "That's right, and we'll check your measurements." She pulled out a tape measure and a note pad from one case and began to take my measurements round my hips, waist and bust, over and under the breasts, writing them on the notepad. I wanted to get away from the woman but Mary gave me a cold stare. "Yes, a nice slim figure, and nice proportions. It shouldn't be too difficult to get you fitted. So Natasha, what are your preferences? What about bras first? What style would you like?" I had absolutely no idea, nor did I want to, but Edith answered for me. "You can see her bust is quite high and firm. You want something fairly supportive to keep it that way, don't you, Natasha? A pretty feminine style too, maybe a with touch of lace." Helene began rummaging through several boxes and at last she pulled out three white bras from packets. "Now, ma'am, why don't you try these?" She was holding out a bra for me. I was in an appalling predicament and I wanted to fling the garment away, but I let her slide the straps over my upper arms and onto my shoulders. I only just suppressed a grimace at the feeling. "Lean forward, Natasha," Helene said, and I did so. Fabric surrounded my alien breasts, then there was a pull and sudden tension as Helene hooked the bra at my back. "Let me adjust the straps, Natasha," and I felt her fingers behind my shoulders, then a little more pressure under the cups and tension on the straps. She looked at the garment critically, even inserting a finger at the side of one of the cups, and the long fingers on her left hand stroked her neck in concentration. "I think that's a good fit. Have a look, ma'am!" Edith held a large mirror up to me. I was afraid to look but I saw a pretty woman in her bra. Her breasts stood out well from her chest. I was devastated that it was me. My face was red with embarrassment. On the other hand, Edith looked pleased, or perhaps smug was a better description. "Yes, I agree. So she should take four of that style. Three in white, and I see you have them in colours. So, one in red, and one in black too. These will be good for everyday wear, but what have you got for evening wear?" Helene pursed her lips. "The makers have a style that's been a good seller. There's maybe just a bit more lace on the top of the cups and it's push up with an underwire. Would you want that, ma'am?" "Excellent! Why don't you try that, Natasha?" said Edith. She really had paid no attention to me. Helene looked out one for me. I let her try it on me and she was satisfied. I blushed at the snug feeling of my breasts being pulled up. They looked as if they were poking out too. "That's pretty," said Edith. "She should take one in white, and one in black." Helene looked at Edith. "You also mentioned girdles for Natasha too." She turned her attention to me. "Any idea of styles you want, ma'am?" So the corsetiere had noticed how Edith had taken charge. I barely kept my temper when Edith replied first. "Well, Natasha has quite a nice slim figure, but she is to have a high waisted, zippered style and preferably with six garters. Something a little controlling." So they were going to make sure I was well aware of the garment. As Helene bent over at her boxes her black skirt stretched smoothly over her rounded rear and the faint ridges of her bra showed under her top. I shivered with the sudden realization that my own body would soon show the same signs of female clothing. She pulled out a white girdle from a packet and handed it to me. My hands trembled slightly at the touch of the heavy shiny female garment. "How does that look?" she asked. "It's a zippered style. It has a firm panel at the front for your tummy and one at the back to keep your seat under control for tight skirts, but it has a bit of pretty embroidery on the front too. Try that on." They were waiting for me to move. I wanted to object but I felt intimidated by them and it was not the time to make a fuss. Helene would think I was spoiled or crazy. I stepped into the garment and pulled it up as she directed. "That's right, just a little further and I'll do up the zipper, ma'am." There was pressure on my hips then, as she did up the zipper, pressure increased on my butt, stomach and waist. I was encased and compressed. Helene nudged me." Try walking in it, ma'am." They had me walk back and forwards in the room. The garment held and controlled me, pressing on me, even affecting how I walked. It was a strange feeling. I was humiliated. Edith was looking at me with a smirk. I think she did that deliberately to break my spirit. Mary was just impassive. "Try sitting down in it, Natasha," said Edith. But Helene looked at me critically. "Try some stockings with it. I have some here." She pulled out a pair of pale tan nylon stockings from a wrapper, stretched one, bunched it up into a ring and held it at my right foot. "Point your foot, ma'am," and she slid the sheer fine nylon onto my legs. I felt her hands at my thigh as she pulled the stocking up. She ran her hands over my leg and even up my thigh to smooth it further. She stretched the stocking top to the front garter, hooked it up efficiently and attended to the side and rear garters. The nylon stocking had a strange, slightly clinging, cool feeling on my leg. The material was delicate, yet strong. "Now the other one." She repeated the procedure with my left leg. "How's that?" she asked. I was very aware of the insistent pull of the garters on the stockings. They were very taut and the girdle felt tighter. I looked at myself in the mirror. The dark stocking tops arced up to the garters and the lower front edge of my girdle was taut over my crotch underneath. I was under compression or tension from my waist to my toes. In the mirror I looked like a women's magazine girdle advertisement. This woman was as attractive as a model, but her face had a stricken look. But I was not finished. "That's a start," says Edith. "She'll have three of these. Two white, one black. The next thing is to get her fitted for a corselette as well." I groaned internally as Helene nodded and pulled out some other boxes. "You can take off your girdle, ma'am," she said. Edith's eyes narrowed. "What are you waiting for, Natasha?" she muttered. "Undress! Start with your garters!" I had unfastened garters before, but on women. I reddened as I now had to undo my own. It took a simple press of some fingers, contrasted with the two handed manipulation needed for fastening. "Now carefully slide your stockings down, "she said, "so you don't ladder them." and I obeyed. "Your bra now." I fumbled at the little hooks behind my back unsuccessfully and with a big sigh Edith unhooked me. The bra almost sprang open and I let it slip back down my arms. She pointed to the girdle and I tugged the zipper down and wriggled out of it. Now I was unconfined, yet I felt loose too. That was the only way to describe it. Helene held out a corselette to me. It was also in a stiff shiny white material. "This should fit well, ma'am. Try it!" When I had it on to their satisfaction the tension ran from the straps on my shoulders right down to my stockinged toes. I was even more encased in smooth strong fabric, covering me from my hips to my shoulders. "Try walking in it," Helene suggested. I do so, feeling my movement restricted and my body held rigidly. "How is it?" she asked. I fumed inwardly. How was it supposed to feel? I felt compressed, and confined, like nothing I had ever worn. Obviously I had no past experience to guide me. "Are you happy with that, ma'am," Helene asked, but Edith answered for me. "She looks very nice. It will shape her nicely. So a black one too, in a strapless style?" I was getting more desperate and frightened too. They were molding me into a female image, and I had no more part in this fitting other than being a body they hung things on. Helene looked out another garment in black, checked it carefully and laid it down beside the other purchases. She checked the list and gave a beaming smile. No wonder she was pleased! It had been a good sale for her. "Then I'll be going. Nice to have met you, ma'am!" "Thank you, Helene," said Edith. "You can bill us, as usual. There will be a boat waiting for you at the jetty. Mary will give you a hand with your stuff." Edith looked at me expectantly and her plucked eyebrows lifted. "Yes, thank you, Helene," I said flatly. "Then, goodbye ladies," Helene said and Mary helped with her cases out of the room. I wanted to get the garments all off and I started to undo my garters, but Edith checked me. "You are to keep these garments on until bedtime, " she ordered. "But you can put your peignoir on top. Put your mules on too." I caught sight of myself in the mirror. The underwear and stockings were easily visible through the fine material of the peignoir. The view would have been erotic if had not been of me. I was imprisoned three fold. My mind was in a woman's body. That body was encased in tight female garments, and I was stuck on an island from which there seemed little chance of escape. At least that was all that they had for me that day. I was sat on a chair and given another meal. The corselette held me upright. I felt totally encased but at least it supported the breasts. The garters made hard ridges on my thighs and there was a taut edge in my lap. When I crossed my legs, I gave a small shiver at the sensation and hiss of one stockinged leg running over the other. After the meal I felt worn out and I lay down on the bed in a feeling close to black despair, but just before bedtime Edith gave me a surprise. "A present for you," she said, and handed me a bag. It was a pink colored nightdress in a shiny smooth fabric, and only just opaque. "Wear this tonight. You can take off your underwear now." I didn't know whether to be thankful or offended. At least it was more opaque than the panties and peignoir I was using, but there was no doubt it was a female garment, with its shiny slippery fabric. I removed my stockings, my hands hesitating at the garters and eased myself out of the corselette. I felt strangely unsupported, but it was a relief. I slid the nightdress over my head and put the peignoir over it. I actually had to be wakened the next morning. It was Louise this time, with my breakfast. "All right, Natasha, the usual procedure. Have breakfast then a shower and you can put on your corselette again." I took my time at breakfast, postponing what I knew was inevitable, and Mary had to hurry me up. I had barely managed to fasten my stockings when Louise came in. She had a dress in one hand and shoes in another. "Here, you'll need some outer clothes. This is an old dress of mine. I think the size is fine, but the style may be a bit dated. Here are some shoes too. They are a bit large but you can stuff paper in the toes. You'll get your own shoes later. "All right, your arms above your head." She slid the dress over my arms and I felt it flutter down my body. I was instructed to do up the front button fastening. It was on the wrong side. Louise looked me over, straightened the dress, and adjusted it at my hips and waist. "The length is not bad. Anyway it'll do. Well, we now have you dressed and manicured and girdled. It's time your hair was seen to." She looked at it closely. "At least your hair is relatively long, but much too short for most women and certainly for what we'll expect for you. It will take you at least two years to get it to the length that Ephraim has specified. In the meantime we'll see what can be done. You're going to a hairdresser first. She looked at her watch. "All right, it's about time to go. The boat's waiting, but one thing first, just a precaution. This over your head." It was a black hood. I shook my head but she was firm. "We don't want you identifying the location." It was completely opaque, but at least I was able to breathe with little difficulty. That was the first time since my arrival, I suppose, that I had been outside the house where I was captive, but the hood took any pleasure away. A light breeze made my dress flutter round my legs. One of the women, Mary I think, took my arm and led me down a gravel path, I suppose, from the crunching noise below my shoes. In a minute I heard waves and my footsteps sounded different, as if I was on wood. I figured I must have been on a jetty. Mary's voice cautioned me, while her strong arm steadied me as I climbed onto the boat. "Into the cabin here. Out of the wind," she ordered. The boat rocked slightly, and the air felt just slightly chill. So I was actually going to be off the island, and I wondered about ways to escape but I knew that the three women would be watching me all the time. Also, escape had its own problems as I had no identification or money and no one would believe my story. At last the hood was removed and I saw we were close to a wharf. We must have been on the boat at least an hour. The others kept closely by me when the boat docked. A taxi was waiting for us and took us to a hair salon in the outskirts of the city. There were about another half dozen customers, all women, of course. It appeared that an appointment had been made for me. Someone, a receptionist I suppose, welcomed us effusively. "Ah, Natasha," she screeched. "So nice to have you, and it will be for a hairstyling, hmm?" She looked at my hair and only just suppressed a frown. "It's rather short, but we can do wonders. Oh, I am Chantelle." I wanted to scream at this stupid woman and her manner but it would have brought attention to me. Another girl came out of the back. I recognized her as Mollie who had done my nails some days before. She had a bright smile on her face but I was not in any sunny mood. "Over here, Natasha. Nice to see you again," she said, and led me to a chair in front of a sink. "So, how are your nails standing up?" She examined my hands. "Yes, they look fine. All right, your hair now. Can you bend over backwards, Natasha," and she gently pushed me back so that I am staring at the ceiling, my head over the sink. She wrapped a cloth on my neck and sprayed warm water on my hair. " I'll try and give you a nice flattering style. A pity your hair is so short, but I think I can do something for you." She started to shampoo and condition my hair. It was strange having my hair washed by another person. Soon she wrapped my head in a towel and I could finally sit upright. She wheeled me in front of a big mirror, but set me so that I was facing away from it. She studied my hair, then pulling out her tools, snipped here and there, working with a comb. She trimmed the ends of my hair over the back of my neck, and around my ears. My jaw almost dropped when she announced she was finished and turned my chair for me to look in the mirror. She had not cut much but it was a definite woman's style. Pixyish, I think the expression is. Louise approved. "Yes, that looks nice and feminine," she says. "All right then, Mollie, next step!" Mollie was behind me. "Ready Natasha? Just lean a bit to the side, miss, to the left." Without thinking I did so and I felt something at my earlobe. There was a sudden sharp pain and I squealed. I realized she had pierced my ear and there was now something in my earlobe. I tried to stand up and there were tears in my eyes, but I was firmly pushed back down. There was pressure at my left ear and again the sharp pain. "Look at the mirror, miss," said Mollie. Through my tears I saw both ears now sporting golden balls. "Once they heal you'll have fun trying different styles!" I looked at the large silver hoops in her own ears. I could not conceive of wearing things like that. "You know how to take care of them, Natasha?" Mollie asked. "I will help her," said Edith. " I hear you're going out shopping for clothes, Natasha. Lucky you! Now next, let me see, I won't do a full make up, but I'll just give you a touch of lipstick and a little eyeliner." She fussed around me, but I sat in misery, my ears stinging. When my tears dried and I saw a pretty woman in the mirror. She had a short gamin -like hairstyle. She was wearing a dress over women's underwear, her nails had pink polish and her lips were reddened. My male identity was being wiped out. "We'll then, that's it done. See you soon, I hope." said Mollie. While Edith paid, Louise took my arm and guided me out. I stumbled slightly as we went out. "Have you no heart?" I cried. "It's payback time," said Louise. "Besides, I'm curious to see how this all goes. Anyway, see you in about an hour. I'll go and get a car." She left in the taxi. "There, that wasn't really so bad was it?" said Edith. "Time now for lunch." She and Mary shepherded me to a small restaurant close to the hair salon and Edith asked for us to be sat at a booth. I was directed to an inside seat where I would not be able to get out easily. A waitress introduced herself and without asking me, Edith asked for coffee, soup and salad for all. I would have preferred something else but I was not asked. My ears stung and when I tried to rub them Mary held my hand. "Better leave them. But if they feel really sore tell me and I will give you some ointment." Louise was waiting outside the restaurant at the wheel of a car and I was forced in. I recognized the area and saw that were heading to a shopping area with a number of large stores. Edith pointed to one of the stores. "So, first, let's get some skirts and tops. Dresses later, then some coats and jackets." The store was divided into sections by various garment manufacturers' products. I didn't have a clue what was happening, nor did I want to, but I ended up with a dozen skirts. Almost all were light and feminine fabrics. The heaviest was a gray woolen knee length pencil skirt. They sent Mary to the car with the purchases while I was dragged to another section for blouses and tops in different styles and colors. Then it was to lingerie and I was supplied with more panties, all in sheer fabric, slips, and two more nightdresses, again in slippery fabric. I had started off resistant and hostile, but by the end of the day I was exhausted and too numb to feel much at all. "Well, how was that? Tiring?" Edith asked. "Didn't you find that fun? Most women like shopping." "I am not a woman, " I growled. My eyes must have had a dead expression to match my mood. "Aren't you? I am looking at a pretty woman. She has the body of a woman, and we have just been getting her women's clothing. But I think you are done for the day. I know I am! " I was surprised when the car passed by the harbor and delivered us to a hotel, an expensive looking one. A suite had been reserved for us and we were no sooner into it than I was pointed to a shower. "Go and wash, Natasha. It will help you freshen up. But watch you don't mess up your hair!" I was glad for the shower. I stripped off all my clothes and stood under the warm water. The warm water was pleasant, but the feeling was spoiled by having to wash the breasts and between my legs. I was soon ordered out of it and Louise pointed to a new pile of clothing, a bra and a girdle, with one of my new skirts and sweaters. It looked like Mary had brought up all of the recent purchases. "Put these on. We won't need our coats as we can eat at the restaurant here in the hotel. I'll give you a little makeup, but soon you'll be doing your own. Now sit still, or your lipstick will get smudged!" When she was finally satisfied my lips felt slightly sticky. I was allowed to order my own meal from a young waiter. I was even allowed a small glass of wine and a dessert. I felt slightly tongue-tied as I wondered if he would think I was a man in drag. Instead his eyes gave me a bit more than a small once-over as he would to an attractive woman. I tried to spot possible ways of escape, but Mary was watching me, anticipating my every move. At last I needed to go to the rest room. "I will come with you," Edith stated flatly. So even there I would not be out of their supervision. "Remember, use the ladies' one." Edith commanded. I trembled as we entered, but she took my arm. "No urinals here. Now, you are wearing a girdle. Pull your skirt up, then undo your garters and fold the bottom of your girdle up!" She pushed me into a stall. I did as she said, cursing the steps involved. I thought about escaping, but I saw her waiting for me through a crack in the stall door. "Wipe yourself well!" she commanded. "How did that go?" she asked, but I didn't reply and she shrugged. "This is a time for women to check their makeup," she said as I washed my hands. "But your's still looks okay." After the meal I was escorted again to our room and I got ready for bed. I was to share a room with Edith, while Mary and Louise used an adjoining room in the suite. I did not lie long awake, but I heard the other women talking and laughing over a bottle of wine they had brought. After we breakfasted the next morning, Louise checked her watch. "We'd better be getting on. So, Natasha, there's still more shopping for you. We need to get you some dresses and we'll need to go to two or more stores at least. Then we'll get you shoes, accessories and then some cosmetics too." I was wearing the dress that Louise gave me. I could pretend it was temporary as it is her dress, but now I was supposed to get dresses of my own. My own dresses! The idea made me shiver. It took a lot of time, the whole morning in fact. I had absolutely no idea of what styles were appropriate, nor had I any interest in finding out I was pushed into fitting rooms, then pulled out again while the three women continually commented on suitability, fits, colours and styles. I was dizzy, confused and miserable. In the fitting room mirrors I saw a young woman in her underwear. She was pretty, but knowing that it was my own reflection filled me with a mild disgust. The three women made me walk back and forward and turn about and pose with every single dress, continually reminding me to straighten up and take an interest. However, I ended up with four fairly simple dresses, another four, what they called 'smarter' ones and two that Edith said were for special occasions. I dreaded what these so-called 'occasions' might be. It might involve me being paraded in women's attire. The last dress I tried was in a soft light brown wool, knee length. It fit close to my girdled waist. The women had me walk in this. It was strange feeling. I was aware of its openness, and the way my walk was limited by its hem. It was a strange sensation, feeling it slide over my stockings and slip. They suggested that I wear it for the rest of the day. Lunch was another ordeal, with them watching me all the time, and afterwards I was taken to a footwear store where I was fitted with two pairs of flat shoes. They were light compared to my men's shoes. I got three pairs with low heels and several high heeled pairs in black, brown, red, and tan. I left wearing the tan ones. There were some advantages to the heels. I got back some of the height I lost in my transformation, but this was countered by their awkwardness. As a man I had obviously never worn heels before and I had to walk carefully. I did not want them but I did not want an injured ankle either and I cursed as I wobbled, my hips swaying about. I had hoped I might be able to make my escape once I had proper shoes, but running in these heels was impossible. It would have to be in flat shoes. "Finding the heels a problem?" asked Edith. "I did, at first, but it only takes a little practice. One last thing, some high end dresses for you." This took a trip to a specialized boutique. I was told to try on some styles and finally had two to add to my wardrobe. Louise announced that we were to spend yet another night at the hotel. I was tired, but the other women were tired too and had become careless. My shoes had been dumped on the floor in my room. One was a pair of flat shoes and I kicked off the high heels and slipped on the flat shoes. I muttered about going to the bathroom but before they could react I opened the door and ran out into the hall. I hiked up the skirt a little to run better. I didn't know where I was going, just that I just wanted to escape. The elevator was just about to close and I burst in beside an elderly couple who looked at me with surprise. At the ground floor the ground floor I rushed out past the desk and concierge. A taxi was idling outside and I jumped in. " To the police station!" I screamed. "Pardon, ma'am. Can you speak slower, ma'am, please?" asked the driver. He was swarthy and bearded. "To a police station, anyone, the nearest!" I screamed, but he still hesitated. By this time Mary had opened the taxi door and got my arm in a strong grip. "Please excuse h