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ISLE OF STRICT WOMEN -- Chapter 17 by Throne
Charlie walked into the big dayroom, being careful to take small steps.
His girl's shoes, bright green and shiny, with matching plastic bows and
two inch stacked heels, glinted in the light from the chandelier. He had
on a party dress that would have looked sweet on a pre-teen. It was in
two shades of yellow, and his tights mixed both green and yellow, to
bring the whole outfit together. He blushed as the women sitting on the
couch, sipping tea, watched him approach.
"Hello, Cherry," said the older one, known as Aunt Agatha.
"You look darling," complimented the other, who was called Cousin Ruth.
The embarrassed man reached down, pinched the hem of his dress between
thumbs and forefingers, and executed a well-practiced curtsey. In a soft
high voice he said, "Thank you, Aunt Agatha. Thank you, Cousin Ruth. I
was told you have something to ask me."
"We certainly do," said the senior Instructor. "Your wife has decided to
get you some facial alterations. Isn't that nice of her?"
"Y... yes, Auntie."
"And that handsome man she's been seeing, Mr. Bullock, is paying for
them. He must be awfully considerate."
Charlie shivered as he recalled the fabulously wealthy interloper who had
seduced his wife Lynne and induced her to send him to this awful island,
with its feminizing women and their unrelenting training programs. He
pictured the tall confident man and the way he would take Lynne in his
arms and kiss her deeply. She was a stunning beauty with the look of a
supermodel. Charlie bit his lips, which were covered with bright red
lipstick. He blinked his eyes, making their long false lashes flutter.
"Yes," he told Agatha. "He has grown very close to my wife and takes
good care of her."
She chuckled and said, "So I've heard. But now why don't you pull up
that hassock so we can show you the options for your new look? Your
sweet wife wants to let you be the one to choose. Just put your seat at
the end of the coffee table and I'll turn this laptop so you can see the
screen, along with both of us."
He did as he was told, making sure to adjust the skirt of his dress and
to sit in a ladylike manner. He hadn't heard any changes to his face
mentioned before this. He swallowed nervously and pressed his thighs
together, aware of how smooth they were, just like the rest of his body
since all the hair had been removed from it -- permanently. He took a
deep steadying breath, inhaling the flowerly perfume that he had dabbed
on his wrists and in the hollow of his neck, the latter location just
below where his Adam's apple had been before it was shaved down to
nothing.
Agatha turned on the computer and the screen came to life with a photo of
his face. It was a few months old. He could tell because there was no
hint of a beard and the skin tone was evened out by foundation make-up,
but he wasn't in full make-up yet. In the picture he was wearing a blond
wig with bangs in the front and the hair on the sides at collar length,
turned under at the ends. As he sat there he self-consciously touched
his own hair, which had grown in and been dyed and styled in the same
fashion.
"You'll love this," Ruth assured him. "It's a computer program that
let's us morph your image, so you can see how attractive each of the
adjustments we can have done will look. For instance..." She reached
down and touched the side of the screen.
Charlie watched in horror as his likeness altered, the lips growing until
they had doubled in size. Agatha extended her hand and pressed a
fingertip against the other edge of the screen. Those swollen lips were
suddenly colored magenta. A final command made them glisten. The idea
of being made to look like that chilled the captive man to the center of
his rapidly beating heart.
The women contined their wicked work and he had to watch his eyebrows
vanish and be replaced by high arched ones, which they cheerfully told
him would be permanent. Then his nose was made smaller and given and
upward tilt. His cheekbones were enhanced until they were overly large
and dramatic. His hair extended over his shoulders and became bright red
with blond highlights.
"So," Ruth wanted to know. "What do you think?"
It took him several seconds to find his voice, even enough to whisper,
"It's... frightening."
"Maybe that look is too mature for you, Cherry. After all, most of your
training has been to make you look and act like a delightful young girl.
Let's go back to the beginning and try another program. I thought this
one up myself and spoke to the helpful people in our medical department
to make sure it would be possible. They assured me they could do it and,
confidentially, I am quite excited. Just let me add that I would be
thrilled if you picked this one."
Again he watched in disbelief as his image was slowly transformed. This
time his lips were drawn together into an exaggerated Cupid's bow and
were tinted a vivid pink. His cheeks slowly inflated until they were as
round as a cherub's. His nose was again diminished, but this time became
a pudgy button. His chin grew plump -- with a suggestion of a double
chin -- and his eyebrows didn't alter but were recolored yellow. His
hair retracted and curled until it was a golden casque. That left his
ears visible and they changed their angle so that they protruded
slightly. His green eyes switched to bright blue and his chubby cheeks
were suffused with a blush.
He imagined himself stuck with those features and how awful that would
be. Could there be anything worse than those two choices? Of course
there could. Agatha said she also had something that was an original
concept of hers, which she was sure he was be enthused about. While he
waited nervously the two females sipped their tea and chatted for a few
moments about how nice the weather had been lately. It was torture for
him to have to sit primly while dreading what else they had to show him.
They savored his visible discomfort a bit longer before the last offering
was revealed.
What Agatha had come up with involved making his eyes almond-shaped,
giving him a thin upper lip but a full lower one, tattooing the front of
his nose black and -- oh no! -- giving him the face of a cat girl,
complete with whiskers. He sat there feeling dizzy while his image on
the screen morphed further, giving him very short hair with tiger stripes
running through it.
"I'm sure you're in a hurry to make a decision," Ruth said cheerily, "but
before you do we want you to also see the three body choices we have to
offer. That way you can select a face and body that either compliment
each other or else make an interesting contrast. Now, this first body is
quite voluptuous and..."
He gaped at the screen as the feline face was replaced by his current
body, which immediatly began to change.
(For Charlie/Cherry's early training, see Chapter 3. For more on facial
changes check Chapters 5 and 11.)
*********
Bennett tried desperatly to hold onto memories of himself as a strong
man, as a self-assured CEO, but it wasn't easy as he crawled across the
room in a baby dress, bonnet, booties and, worst of all, a big diaper
with plastic pants over it. He wanted to say something to the woman who
stood over him, looking down with undisguised amusement, but the fat
pacifier in his mouth had been expanded to make it unremovable, though it
was hollow in the center so he could breath through it. He gazed at her
with sad eyes, but also with feelings of lust. She was a stunning beauty
with full curves and lucious lips. She leaned down and put her hands on
her knees, which were left bare by her short dress, that also had a low
neckline that made it look like her generous bust might pop free any
second.
He had always been a breast man, and proud of it. Most of the
secretaries he had coerced into sex had been busty girls. That had gone
well until his wife discovered his sex games, organized a campaign
against him that led to court, and got him to sign away all of his rights
to her in exchange for staying out of jail. The end result was that she
had gotten him here on this bizarre island where he was being turned into
an adult baby. The woman who was doing most of his training, Zelda,
reached down and put her soft warm hand under his chin.
"What's the matter, Baby Beany? Doesn't my little sweetie like crawling?
I'd let you stand up but you might fall and hurt your widdle self." She
puckered those desirable lips and made a loud kissing sound. He moaned
around the binky filling his mouth. She went on, "And Mommy Zelda
doesn't want you to have any inappropriate reactions around her. That
would be a no-no. Which is why she has you in a snug little chastity
tube. Wouldn't it be silly for a baby like you to get a stiffy between
her smooth pudgy legs?"
He groaned miserably. The chastity tube made sure his penis couldn't get
hard. The depilatories and laser treatments had left his entire body
free of hair. And the diet he was on, combined with lack of real
exercise, was making his once athletic physique soft and weak. He felt
like crying, which was probably the result of female hormones, which he
strongly suspected were in the oversized bottles of milk they were
constantly feeding him.
Zelda put her hands under his armpits and raised the front of his body,
easing him back so that he ended up sitting on his thick diaper. She
squatted down in front of him, intimately close, and reached out to lift
the front of his infantile dress. Her experienced fingers found his
nipples and began to tease them. He mewled piteously -- at least as much
as he could with his tongue pressed against the floor of his mouth -- and
blinked to fight back tears. His cock and balls hurt from the way her
fingers were stimulating him, as well as from the accumulated unfulfilled
needs of days -- and weeks -- past.
"Poor Baby Beany," she cooed, sounding less motherly than seductive.
"What does him need to make him happy? Hmmm? Does my widdle girl want
to nurse?"
She lowered a zipper between her breasts. The front of the dress was
designed for easy access and she wore no bra. Bennett was suddenly
confronted with a pair of magnificent boobs, large and round and crowned
with perfect nipples. Zelda deftly manipulated the pacifier to make it
smaller. She popped it out of him mouth and let it drop, to be supported
by the pink ribbon that ran through its ring. She took Bennett's head
gently in her hands and drew his face forward, toward her desirable
knockers. His male lust asserted itself and he parted his lips,
fastening them onto the nearest rosy circle.
"That's Mommy's girl," Zelda whispered as he vigorously sucked the end of
her breast. "Have a good long feeding."
Of course he wasn't getting any milk. Instead he was further enflaming
his thwarted lust, causing himself more pain, and deepening his
dependence on her for sexual and emotional focus. He knew he was falling
further under her spell but couldn't help himself. She lightly stoked
the sides of his beardless face, reminding him how soft and feminine his
skin now was. She fussed with his dress, adjusting it unessessarily,
again making him more aware of his girly state. Zelda allowed him to
nurse until he was weeping softly at his lack of self-control. She
laughed musically as she switched him to her other nipple, as if he
really was a nursing infant girl.
After a while longer she gently disengaged his mouth from her teat and
zipped herself up, making sure he got a compelling last look at her
fantastic mammaries. Then she poked the pacifier back between his
quivering lips and once more made it swell up. Zelda kissed him gingerly
on the top of the head, being sure to rub her now covered bosom against
his face. Then she rose and resumed walking. Bennett knew that trying
to stand would earn him severe punishment, so he again crawled. As
heated up as his libido was, he couldn't take his eyes off her rolling
backside, which was well shown off by the snugly fitting dress.
She led him into his nursery, where extra-large baby furniture awaited
him. Also there was a tall sexy Black woman dressed to suggest that she
was a nanny, with a high lace collar on her black, long-sleeved blouse,
and a fitted leather skirt that reached almost to her ankles. Below the
skirt were square-toes shoes with block heels. She gave him a wide smile
and reached out for him. Zelda also reached toward the helpless male and
together the two women easily lifted him and deposited him atop a
changing table.
Zelda told the other female, "Baby Beany has been very well behaved,
Mommy Denise."
"Isn't that nice?" said the grinning nanny. She patted Bennett's cheek
with one hand while the other stole to the front of his diaper. Even
through the thick cloth he could feel her rhythmically patting his
crotch. She said, "It's time for this baby to have her sponge bath and
then get oiled up all over her pretty self."
He shuddered with anticipation. Denise said something about not wanting
to get her outfit wet or oily and then began a slow strip-tease. What
she wore underneath was quite un-nannyish. Bennett ogled her and his
trapped member tried again to become erect. He breathed hard through the
hollow middle of his pacifier. She began to strip him while Zelda lined
up the liquid soap, baby oil, and powder. She offered to help and said
that they might later brush out Beany's golden hair while she had a
bottle. Bennett was once more reminded of his fear that there were
female hormones in the formula he was being given. He sniffled but then
was distracted by the two voluptuous forms hovering over him.
(For more baby games be sure to go back to Chapter 8 and 10-11.)
*********
"Time for your deportment class," Big Sister Terri said sweetly.
"B... but, I don't want to go to class today," Francine said with a
quiver in his voice, which he was cautious not to let sound at all
masculine, the way it had when he was still Frank. "Every time I attend
class I... get into trouble and... get punished."
"Well then," Terri responded reasonably, "you'll just have to try harder.
Won't you?"
"Y... yes, Big Sister."
"Good girl. Now let's have a look at you. If you don't want to get into
trouble... and get another punishment... you have to look your best."
It was ironic that he was being ruled over by on of the Big Sister women,
because it was his real-life sister who had sent him here. They had
inherited thier Uncle Elbert's vast estate and suddenly his sibling was
having him declared 'unstable' and having him sent here for 'evaluation'
and 'therapy'. He was drifting deeper into his private thoughts when
Terri made a loud throat-clearing sound to get back his attention. He
put his hands in front of him at waist level and laced together his
fingers, then cocked his hips and tilted his head slightly.
She gave him an evaluationg look and liked what she saw. Frank tried not
to fidget as she examined him from head to toe. Even though she was
talking to him like he was a proper young lady being trained in the
social graces, his appearance was quite unlike that. His head had been
shaved except for a topknot that was several inches of auburn hair held
up by a studded leather band. They had used cosmetics to give him the
face of a slutty teen, with way too much eye shadow (silver, no less),
thick black liner, and heavily mascara-laden lashes. There was shading
to give the illusion of high cheekbones and heavily-applied white
lipstick covered with too much gloss.
He wore a skimpy rainbow-striped top that left his belly bare. The thin
material clung to the cupcake-sized breasts that he had been given and
his nipples poked out boldly. He had on tiny shorts of some soft red
material that was pulled up in back between his bottom cheeks, which had
somehow been made to grow full and shapely. On his legs, which were as
devoid of hair as the rest of his body, he had elastic-topped stockings,
white with black and red skulls all over them. On his feet were black
shoes with a flat finish, supported by soles and boxy heels that added
three inches to his height. She decided to add dangling earrings, ones
with crimson devil heads hanging on slender golden chains. His ears were
already pierced, with maintainence studs in them, so she just had to
remove those and put in the new choices, which he could feel swinging as
he moved his head.
"Perfect. Let's go, Francine," Terri said and gave Frank a swat on the
rump that made him yelp.
He stumbled forward on those awkward shoes, into the classroom, toward
Lady Grey, an older woman in a tailored skirt-suit and sensible shoes.
The teacher gave Frank a critical look as he regained his balance. He
blanched as he saw the narrow leather paddle in Lady Grey's slender hand.
She slapped it meaningfully against her opposite palm and scowled at him.
He was in trouble already, even before the lesson had begun. If only he
could talk to his sister, reason with her, make some kind of a deal
concerning the estate. But that wasn't to be.
"Now," Lady Grey said in a dry and reserved voice. "Let me see you move,
girl. Walk around the room like a proper young lady. And I don't know
WHY you insist on wearing those terrible outfits that always upset me."
Frank wanted to point out that it was Terri who had told him what to
wear, except that he knew she would deny it and even accuse him to being
difficult and demanding to dress how he pleased. The situation was sheer
madness but he was trapped on this insane island, forced into the role of
a rebellious young girl, and then disciplined for it. He tried to walk
demurely, at the same time not letting his maleness show, but it was
hopeless. Already Lady Grey was sneering at his ineptitude. He got
nervous and forgot himself for a moment. His hand went to his crotch,
where his genitals were glued down and covered by an ingenious false
pussy that had been attached with some fiendish adhesive that made it
impossible to remove without a special solvent, which seemed to be in
short supply. His poor penis and balls had been trapped under that
lifelike merkin since his arrival four weeks ago.
"So," Lady Grey snapped accusingly. "You choose to openly defy me, to
intentionally make a mockery of my attempt to teach you how to walk
correctly. It is almost as if you WISH to be thrashed. Well, that wish
shall be granted, Francine. To the bar, Miss. NOW."
Frank glanced at Terri, but instead of sympathy her face expressed wicked
amusement and sadistic glee. He reluctantly went to the bar, a polished
wooden rod set between two uprights which were firmly attached to the
floor. The bar was at waist level so that, when he bent over it and
grabbed a pair of metal rings attached to its verticals, he was in an
ideal position for corporeal punishment. Terri helpfully went behind him
and grabbed his all-too-brief shorts to yank them down to mid-thigh.
They were easy to lower and he wore no panties under them, two things
Terri knew ahead of time would faciliate his spanking. He stood there
bent over uncomfortably, shamefully aware of how he was on display.
Lady Grey took up a spot behind and to one one side, already taking
practice swings through thin air with that nasty instrument. Frank
turned his head far enough to see the not-wide, just-long-enough
punisher, its handle tightly held in the mature woman's capable hand. He
turned away, too scared to watch. Frank had never been confident or
secure, but now he was being made over into a helpless girl. As he hung
over the bar, already panting, his pert breasts rose and fell, his bottom
clenched, and he licked his pale-colored lips. At this rate, when he was
finally returned to his sister, he would be willing to do whatever she
dictated. But then, that was most likely just what she desired.
There was a sudden flash of movement and a hiss of the paddle flying, and
then it struck across both his buttocks with a loud crack. Frank howled,
a high-pitched sound that ended with blubbering series of sobs. His
punisher gave him time to catch his breath, if not to regain his
composure. She was in no hurry to get this over with. The longer it
took, the better. And the more effective. The leather rose and fell
three times in rapid succession, with Frank gripping the rings and
driving his belly involuntarily against the unyielding bar. He wailed
and hot tears ran down his satiny cheeks. At that moment he felt utterly
vulnerable, which robbed him of more of what little remained of his male
ego.
The harsh swatting went on for another twenty strokes, until his backside
was bright red and twitching uncontrollably. He couldn't stem the flow
of tears and his nose was running. At last the unforgiving woman halted,
though Frank was still terrified that she might start up again. She left
him in suspense for several minutes before setting aside the paddle and
pulling him upright by his hair.
"Now," she said coldly, "let me see you walk again."
Feeling even less able than before, he nevertheless took one careful step
after another, somehow managing to keep his legs moving, hips swaying,
arms slightly extended, wrists limp, chin raised. All of the physical
excitement had made his nipples get hard and the material of his top
rubbed against them, adding unwanted stimulation. His shorts were up
again -- he couldn't remember if he had raised them or one of the women
had done it -- and pressed uncomfortably against his tender bottom. His
middle was sore from being over the bar. Still he kept moving, telling
himself he would satisfy the strict woman.
"You've made a good effort," Lady Grey concluded. Frank was elated until
she added, "But not good enough by far. I'm afraid, Francine, that we
shall have to put you into the posture suit."
He had heard about that, with its stiff leather collar and agonizingly
tight corset, as well as the tall stiff boots and long thick leather
gloves. No, no, no. He didn't deserve that. But Francine did, and that
was who he was being reinvented as. Frank whimpered and looked directly
at Lady Grey.
He whispered, "Yes, Ma'am. Thank you, Ma'am. I'm glad you care enough
to do that, Lady Grey."
And he meant it.
(For the appearance of an earlier version of the posture suit see Chapter
3. Lady Grey's lessons in table manners were featured in Chapter 15.)
*********
COMING SOON. Feminized and naked, maids in blindfolds, and the dreaded
'grease games'.
*********
(Editor's note. Unfortunatly, chapters 1 though 16 are missing, along
with 18 to 34. It's almost as if they had never been written and this
installment was just a bit of whimsy from that mischievous Mr. Throne.
Somebody should send HIM to the Island for lots of what he deserves.)
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