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Subject: {ASSM} RP: A Goth's Story (3/8)
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Date: Fri, 18 Mar 2005 16:10:06 -0500
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   Chapter 3 The Dressing ================

   Through the doors was a large closet room with hundreds of garments in.
However, to my surprise, the first one I was helped into was a
flesh-coloured item that looked a little like a jockstrap.  As Sepulchre
pulled it up my legs, Aisling reached in front of me.  Seconds later, I was
on my knees in agony.  My balls and penis had been tucked very firmly into
a latex pocket, which was now tightly folded between my legs.  As the pain
subsided, I looked down and all I could see was a featureless smooth bump,
with no visible sign of my manhood.

   Although I had recognised what was happening to me, it had not really
penetrated until now.  I thought of all that had been snatched away from
me, my life, my freedom, my masculine appearance and now, forcefully, my
manhood.  Strength left me, I curled into a ball on the floor, sobbing in
despair.  I felt strong hands gripping me, I resisted, but they were too
powerful.  Aisling and Hawk dragged me to my feet.  Sepulchre stood in
front of me, dark eyes flashing angrily.  "Stop that immediately, child."
She slapped my face; my cheek stung painfully.  "I could cope with it and
so can you.  Grow up!  You'll smear your makeup and make us late if you're
not careful." Chastened, I stopped crying.  The Hairdresser wandered in
front of me and inspected me.  She adjusted something around my eyes with a
small brush.  "Not too bad, dear.  You're lucky.  Now, no more nonsense or
Hawk and Aisling will get to play." I realised that this 'play' would very
probably be painful.  Cowardice has, unfortunately, always been part of my
personality.  I backed down, at the same time resolving to try to escape at
the first opportunity.

   "Good." The Hairdresser said.  "OK, let's put an outfit together for
you." She wandered amongst the racks, Sepulchre close behind her.  "Yes,
this, yes, this, no, no, those ones." Returning, Sepulchre laden with a
large pile of black cloth.  "Now dear, we have a nice corset for you, which
I'm sure Hawk will lace up." She held out a black satin corset, a full one.
I trembled slightly.  I had the suspicion that this was going to hurt. 
Hawk placed the corset around my waist, and started to do it up.  "Hang on
a mo'" The Hairdresser said, "that's a touch low".  She worked it up a bit.
"That's better." Hawk started to tighten the strings.  I was made to hold
on to a bar, leaning slightly forward, as the corset was laced around me.
Tighter and tighter the corset went; looking down, my waist was narrowing.
Hawk put his knee to my back and yanked the last inches together, driving
breath from me.  I was helped back upright.  Carefully, gingerly, I started
to breathe.  I found I could do so, although only with very small breaths.
If I was to do any running on my escape, I would have to dispose of the
corset first.  I looked down, as best I was able.  My waist seemed
inconceivably thin.  The Hairdresser got a tape measure out.  "Twenty-four
inches, Hawk, well done." Twenty-four inches?  My waist was usually thirty!
No wonder it felt tight.  "OK Aisling, you can put it on now." I heard a
click from the small of my back.  "Done." Aisling said.  "Good.  OK dear,
we've put that on you and we don't want you taking it off, just because you
don't like it, so it's been padlocked on.  Sorry and all that." The
Hairdresser said, with fake sincerity.  I was locked into this constricting
prison.  "We'll obviously have to change it as you become accustomed to
it." "And as she loses weight." Aisling commented.  "She's going on quite a
diet." "And she needs it." Agreed the Hairdresser.  Insulted, I looked
away. "Except in certain areas.  Those are not impressive." She was staring
at my chest.  I have never had much flesh there, and it was obvious that
the intent was for the corset to push what there was into two breast-like
mounds.  Looking down, however, it was apparent that this had not been
successful.  There was a hint of shape there, but only a hint.  Perversely,
I felt a little disappointed.  If I was going to be a girl, I wanted to be
an attractive one.

   "Well, we can't do anything about that now.  Brian will decide what, if
anything, is required.  Let's get the other things on her." The Hairdresser
decided.  She handed me a pair of panties, black and lacy, and gestured for
me to put them on.  I attempted to obey, however, I could only bend over
enough to reach my knees.  Attempting to pick my feet up, I fell over.  I
was helped to my feet quickly and Sepulchre, grinning, helped me into the
panties, which fitted across the cachesex exactly.  A garter belt soon
followed, Sepulchre assisting once again, and then the Hairdresser held out
a two black, thin items.  Sepulchre pointed to the cuffs I still wore.  "I
can't get them on past these." She said.  "Oh yes, Aisling, remove them,
they're hardly necessary at the moment." To my relief the wrist and ankle
cuffs which had bound me through my ordeal were removed.  Sepulchre then
bent to helping me again and in seconds I was wearing a pair of fishnet
stockings, neatly clipped to my garter belt.  I stood there, corseted and
dressed in panties, stockings and suspenders and with no trace of my
masculinity showing.  My face felt stiff with the makeup that had been put
on it and my ears still ached where they had been multiply pierced.  My
dyed black hair, tied into a long ponytail, brushed against my back and all
the way down to my buttocks.  For the first time, as well as emasculate, I
felt feminine.

   Sepulchre helped me into the next garment, a black velvet dress with a
highnecked collar.  The front of the dress was open to reveal the top of
what little bust I had and nipped tightly at the waist before flaring into
voluminous black skirts.  The sleeves were long and tight.  "Walk up and
down." The Hairdresser commanded me.  I obeyed, feeling the skirt sway as I
walked.  The corset forced me to walk fairly carefully and more upright
than I would normally.  The Hairdresser appraised me scrupulously. 
"Sepulchre, the 5 inches, I think." Sepulchre came up with a pair of boots
in her hands.  "Now, normally, I wouldn't want to make you taller, but you
aren't so big and you could probably get away with these.  Asides, I want
to watch you walk in them." The Hairdresser commented.  With Sepulchre's
help I got into the PVC boots.  I almost fell over again, but, swaying
alarmingly, I stayed upright.  Gingerly, I took a first step.  Ever so
unsteadily, I walked forwards and backwards, humiliated by the daintiness
that was forced upon me and by the way the boots made me sway my hips from
side to side.  "Hmm," said The Hairdresser, trying unsuccessfully to hide a
smile, "just the final touches and then we'll be done." She went over to a
chest of drawers and pulled some items out.  "Now, we can't really give you
any earrings until your ears have healed a touch, but we'll make up for
it." She stretched my hand out, palm down, fingers extended.  Carefully,
she pushed a ring on to each of my fingers, she then picked the other hand
and placed a ring on each of those.  I examined them, they were ornate
silver filigree work, with vaguely occult and very gothic designs on.  The
effect on me was to make my hands look very feminine indeed, with the long
black nails and the silver rings.

   She then held my right arm straight and forced a spiral of silver up
over past my elbow.  Around my right wrist she placed a large number of
silver bangles, which chimed as I moved my hand.  Around my left wrist she
placed a heavy silver bangle, with intricate designs carved on it.  With
the compression on my biceps from the slave bracelet, the weight of the
bangle around my left wrist and the sound of those around my right, more
than the skirts or the corset, I was forcibly reminded of my feminised
state.

   The Hairdresser undid my hair from the ponytail and brushed it out. 
"OK," she said.  "We won't do anything too fancy with your hair, just
back-comb it a little bit.  There we go, that's lovely.  Now, shall we show
her the end result?" "Might as well," Aisling said, "She needs to know what
state she's in."

   Sepulchre brought up a mirror from a cupboard in one wall.  In true
'makeover' style, they kept it facing away from me.  She leaned over as she
pushed it in front of me and whispered in my ear.  "Don't worry, you look
gorgeous." She murmured.  I wasn't sure whether to be pleased or annoyed.
My male pride would have been hurt, but not much of my male pride remained.
"Oooh!" Interjected the Hairdresser.  "Nearly forget." She bustled up to me
with something in her hands.  "Brian would have been most annoyed.  Sorry
dear, this is another lock-on effort." She said as she fastened a collar
around my neck.  There was an audible click as the lock closed.  "OK, turn
around the mirror." The full-length mirror was turned around.

   Even though I knew what had been put on me, I was shocked by what I saw
in the mirror.  There, instead of the image I knew as 'me' was a drop-dead
beautiful Goth girl.  With silky pitch-black hair and a narrow waist she
was an image from deep within my fantasies.  It took some moments before I
realised that this girl was me.  My face had been beautifully made up,
white powdered with black lipstick and black eye liner and mascara.  At the
corners of my eyes, which looked larger than I could have believed, a tight
black spiral had been painted.  My ears had a neat row of silver studs in
each of them and around my neck was a wide silver collar, similar to that
worn by Sepulchre.  I looked further down my body, past the distressingly
flat chest to the painfully nipped waist.  I noticed that my hair now
dropped past my bum to the tops of my thighs.  I raised my hands,
marvelling at how feminine they looked.  "I think she's impressed." Aisling
commented, laughing.  "And so she should be." Bristled the Hairdresser. 
"That's a lot of work in there that is." I was impressed, and I was
responding to my own appearance, which, as I was fairly firmly tethered
down below, caused some discomfort.  "Right," Aisling said.  "She's ready,
and I suspect The Patrician is waiting.  Sepulchre, go and check."
Sepulchre scurried from the room.  Aisling stood in front of me.  "Listen.
If you misbehave now, Hawk and I will take it out of your ass.  That's on
top of what the Patrician will do to you.  Keep your eyes down, speak as
softly an as femininely as you can and do what you are told."

   Sepulchre re-entered the room.  "He is ready for her now." I was led
through a door into a long corridor, tottering slightly on my unaccustomed
heels.  Inside, I was a knot of nerves, I had been kidnapped, transformed
and prepared for this man, this man that I was about to see for only the
second time in my life, and the first in my new state.  Keeping firm to my
resolve to escape, I was led down the corridor to face The Patrician.



   -- Sable Darkness @@ Sable_d@yahoo.com Even in the darkness there are
flowers

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