Zara

(Ein)

Isn't it strange how the simplest things can give you that weird sense of nostalgia? I kinda get that when I look out my bedroom window. It reminds me of my live with my folks. To see cars zipping by every three seconds and even further across the road being the apartments that were neighbouring my own. I say my own but this place isn't really mine at all. Not really.

I always used to wonder why I'm even here. Why Matt even took a chance on me, I thought I`d never know. What I didn't know was that I was going to find this out soon. Sooner than I would have ever believed.

My name is Zack Moore.

Not a popular name by any length, but `Zack' in truth isn't my birth name. My given birth name was David. But after realizing how boring the name was, I had convinced everyone to regard me by my nickname, which was Zack. It took me a while to realize that my name wasn't the problem, but hey, by then, people had become accustomed to calling me Zack. So it just sort of set in.

I scrambled away from my window and looked over at the coffee table by my bed. Suddenly I felt like getting something to eat. I hadn't eaten since one thirty and by now it was almost six, so it was perhaps a good idea to grab a bite. And even though I'm hungry I suddenly remember that Matt will be back at any moment. From that I'm jarring myself into staying put. It was a quirky little fear but I always worried that he would run away or something. But I guess it was from my own insecurity. And I suppose I still felt shocked by the way Matt had accepted me. Lucky breaks are like lightning. They don't hit twice.

Matt Stillman, 19 years of age, three years older than me, had helped me out of a really tight spot by allowing me to stay here. It all came back to my years at home with my real family. I lived quite a ways from this town, at least 80 miles, or so I'm told. I used to live with my mother and father, both unsuited to be parents or even regard themselves as such. Mom was a drunkard, her only friend was the bottle and her rancid breath was proof of their love for each other. Where Mom was just a waster, Dad was an unashamed bastard who thought with his fists rather than his brain. He regularly cheated on my Mom, but she was so consumed with her age old boyfriend, Las Vodka, that most of his cheating ways escaped her notice. Eventually I got tired of living with them after one of my father's custom battering sessions, and I decided to hit the road with as little as I could spare. Which wasn't much. In the end all I left with was 50 bucks in my wallet, the clothes on my back, and a heart full of hopes for a better future.

Of course running away always seems like a good idea at the time.

It was a foolish mistake to make, and I saw that, but I couldn't live in that house with those people any longer. The first three days after leaving home were the toughest. Thankfully I had enough cash to keep myself sparingly fed, but didn't have nearly enough to put a roof over my head. I was forced to sleep rough, one of the scarier and more alarming moments of my life. It was summer by this time so it wasn't very cold, but it still was an experience I long to forget. Park benches were the best thing I found to sleep on, but parks weren't the safest place for a sixteen year old boy to sleep, in more ways than one.

I don't believe in god but someone had to be watching out for me those two nights. Because somehow I came out in one piece and with my virginity in tact. By my third day I was down to $38 and was growing restless with bench sleeping. I didn't have much of a choice though, which was the real heavy hitter in all that. But a shining ray of hope came to me in the form of Matt. I was getting breakfast at a diner nearby the park that I had been sleeping at, and we ran into each other. I had just gone there to grab a coffee and think about my next move, but suddenly I met with some stranger and we got to talking. In the end, we talked for about three hours and had a real laugh. I learned a lot about him too. Matt was a post graduate student, studying mechanics at a local community college. He lived on his own in an apartment that was paid for by his Saturday job at his father's garage. Matt had told me that he wanted to `follow in father's footsteps' by becoming a mechanic, but I could see beyond that. I knew that he wanted a lot more from his life. It turned out that we had a lot in common too. In the things we liked, the food we liked, it even seemed like we had the same taste in women. And through talking to him I finally felt like I was forgetting my troubles. At least till he asked me,

`Where do you live?'

I froze. How could I tell Matt the truth? That my current residence was a park bench? I don't know what came over me, but I informed him of my whole story. My abusive parents and my running away from home. I thought that the moment he discovered this truth that he would want nothing to do with me, but he did the opposite. He offered me a room at his place. It was a great gesture and I thought that he meant it as a temporary offer but he let me stay at his apartment indefinitely. And so, three months later, this was were I was, living with Matt. I had to admit that it was the happiest I had been for so long. Suddenly I was snatched from my darkest hours and thrown into my brightest ones. All the rules I had been following with my mother and father were a thing of the past. I could come and go as I pleased, I could eat whatever I liked, do whatever I chose. I had all the freedoms that I believed I could gain by escaping my old home. There were some drawbacks. Although I didn't have to go to school or anything, I did have to chip in with the rent, so I started working a full-time job at a fast food place downtown. Matt was a nice enough guy too, but he did play a lot of loud music, which I didn't need at three in the morning (when you start working full-time you find yourself less tolerant with loudness). The only other negative aspect was Matt's friends. Most of them I really liked and became friends with myself, but there was a `circle' of Matt's best buddies that I had never taken a shine to.

Outside of those few issues, it was all good. And I had been thinking as much up until yesterday evening. It started out like any other weekend. Matt and I went up to a party at that one of our friends were holding. It was a much bigger party than I had thought, and as soon as I got to the house Matt and I were absorbed into the madness. I'm not a drinker but I did down a few drinks while I was there. It went on for hours and hours, and just as I thought about leaving, a girl pulled up to me and cast me 'those' eyes. You didn't have to be Einstein to see that she was interested in me. In fact, for the fifty minutes that we spent talking, she did nothing but flirt. I liked her, and she was what most men would find attractive, but I cave in. I had never been too confident with girls. I really didn't know why, but women were never my strong point. I wasn't exactly a buff stallion either. My looks were far more pretty-boy in nature, most of Matt's jock friends regarded my appearance as fruity (though they never meant this as an insult). But the girl was relentless, and she dragged me out into the dance floor that had been made out of the living room. I enjoyed dancing with her, but the moment I got into it, I felt a strong hand grab me by the arm and yank me out of the crowd. I couldn't see who it was until we got into the hallway. In the end it turned out to be Matt.

And for some reason he was pissed with me.

Matt wasn't always a violent person, but he knew how to handle himself. And I had never seen him express anger at any of his friends, let alone me. But whatever I had done he wasn't happy about it, because he declared instantly that we were leaving. The ride home was equally awkward. Matt didn't utter a word to me, he just continued to seethe and stew over my unknown error. I began to wonder if the girl I danced with was his ex girlfriend or something. It explained why he was so angry with me. But when I asked him this, he told me no, in short tones. Leaving me confused as ever. When we got home things were just the same, and by now, things hadn't gotten better. Matt was still icing me, and I hoped that I wasn't losing my best friend. If I did, I'd lose my home as well.

I looked out the window again to see if his car was pulling up. It wasn't, but thirty minutes later his car came around the block and parked up nearby. I watched him come out of his car, a large paper back came with him, and he walked over to our apartment building. I was dismayed to see Jason with him.

Jason was one of the three buddies of Matt's that I didn't like. He was a jerk and a complete womanizer. He stood at about 6 ft 1 with shady black hair falling in bangs over his sneaky grey eyes. I made it a habit to avoid Jason as much as I possibly could, but being that he was one of Matt's best friends it didn't work out as I would have hoped. The two made there way inside and I suddenly felt strange as a knock came at my bedroom door. I actually felt nervous. When I didn't answer the first knock, the door blew open with a jerk from Jason's grip. He had a devious smile on his face while Matt's was neutral. It looked like he was struggling with something, but I couldn't place just what was bothering him. And I was more concerned with the cocky smiles that Jason was giving me.

I moved away from the window and spoke. "Something wrong, guys?"

"Something like that," Jason quipped. "But then I guess you would know, since your ass has been sniffing around Stacy a lot lately."

I blinked. "Stacy?"

"The girl you were dancing with last night, Zack." Matt said stoically.

I knew that was the root of all this. "Why is that important?"

Jason glared at me. "It's important when you start making eyes at my woman, kid."

I felt my stomach turn. I had no idea that the girl flirting with me was involved with Jason. I didn't even know her name. If I knew, I would have stayed well clear of her. Not because it was the right thing to do, but because Jason was part animal. Despite his unusually sophisticated looks, Jason was a bruiser, I had seen it myself. The amount of flesh that he had chosen to rend by those knuckles was a frightening number. And I immediately began to worry that I was actually next in line.

"I didn't know she was yours." I said in my defence. "She was the one flirting with me. All I even did was dance with her."

Jason didn't seem to be swallowing this. I wasn't lying, in fact I wasn't even interested in Stacy that much. But it didn't seem like he was listening to me. I rolled my eyes over to Matt and I saw that he had a frustrated frown on his face. Jason definitely intended to do something to me, I could see it in Matt's expression. And it was probably of the reason he was so annoyed with me after the party.

I was now ready to do anything to keep from being battered into a bloody pulp. "I'm sorry."

Jason smiled at me, another of the condescending smiles that made my flesh crawl. He obviously took pleasure in the fact that I was afraid of him. My voice had actually risen in pitch from my fright. Jason moved over to me slowly, then reached out and grabbed me by the chin with one of his large, elegant hands. His grip enfolded my jaw like iron, but what scared me most was that nasty little glare of intent in his eyes.

"Little pussy." He barked quietly. "Begging for me not to beat the living hell out of you. I could snap you in two."

And he could. He really could. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Take it lightly, pussy." Jason uttered. "I'm not gonna kick your ass. At least not if you don't screw me around now. So just calm down and do what we say."

It's easy to understand that that did not reassure me one little bit. But I was too scared at that point to even scowl at Jason. My fear for my personal safety was on my main agenda. And from that look of dejection on Matt's face, I knew I wasn't going to be getting any help from him, either. With a slow nod, Jason's hand still over my mouth, I submitted myself to his mercy. Jason smiled with his new claim over me, then shoved me hard across the room.

"Ahh!"

I stumbled back and eventually fell over the bed, my limbs sprawled out over the spreading. Jason instantly mounted me, placing his hand over my mouth and pinning me with his weight. I gasped under his fingers. What was he planning to do with me? I tried to thrash my legs about to somehow move him off me but it was no use. No matter how I struggled, I couldn't get Jason off me. He was far too strong for my feeble body. When Jason seemed to realize that he had me immobile, he looked over to Matt.

"Come on, man!" He yelled. "Gimme a sock or something!"

Matt dropped the bag he was holding and walked over to the chest of drawers near the door. He went into one of the top drawers and pulled out a sock, a white one with a blue stripe. I would have been more embarrassed about him going through my socks and underwear if I wasn't pinned down beneath Jason. Matt handed Jason the sock, and my captor went to work. He freed my mouth, and I gasped with relief, a gasp which melted into a moan when Jason shoved the sock past my lips. It completely blocked up my mouth and I could hardly breathe, so I was forced to do so through my nose. I was also aware that I couldn't scream for help either.

Now that his hand was free, Jason grabbed both of my thin wrists with his large hands, completely making me unable to get myself free. I was expecting a kicking even if Jason said he wouldn't hurt me, but now it looked like they wanted to torture me. My mind started to judder with the thoughts of what they might do. Like slit my arm with a knife and pour salt on it. All those horror films I'd seen suddenly seemed less funny.

Jason smiled at me again. "So, pussy. You like playing around with other guy's women? Well consider yourself lucky. You're gonna be what we like."

My eyebrows rose when I heard that. I was confused. So confused that I stopped kicking my legs on the bed. I didn't have a clue as to what he had meant. That was until I took a look at the bag that Matt was previously holding. Inside it were the items and gear you would expect to find in the bag of a theme prostitute. I felt sick. My mind had caught on to what they planned to do. And now I realized what Jason had said did make sense after all. I started bucking harder against Jason, kicking my legs and swinging my head from side to side, but it was no use. Jason was so much stronger than I was. I could remember someone telling me, probably Matt, that Jason used to play as quarterback in his high school football team. Probably where all that strength came from. And now that strength was working towards my agony and humiliation.

Matt grabbed the bag that he had brought in with him, and move it closer to me and Jason on the bed. I tried to look away as his hand reached inside it, but I found myself frightfully curious as to what would come next. He pulled out a small jar of lavender nail polish. I was incredulous. All my fears and worries had been confirmed. They wanted to turn me into a girl! It was impossible! In my head it sounded like some ridiculous plotline for a cheap humour story, but from that devilish smile on Jason's toned visage, this was very much a reality for me. I looked up into Jason's eyes, as fragile as I could possibly seem, hoping he would take pity on me and end this. It was in vain, because I could see that Jason had no intention of letting me go. There wasn't a way to get out of this.

For a third time I tried to struggle free from his iron grasp, to maybe wriggle out of his hold and run for my life, but again I found myself trapped and isolated. This time Jason leaned down and whispered into my ear.

My blood ran cold as he spoke. "Remember. If you keep on struggling, I'll rip off both of your kneecaps."

I fell silent after a whimper of disapproval. No matter what, I was too afraid of being hurt to argue with him. It might have sounded cowardly, but I was such a feeble person in strength that I had no choice. All I could do was go along with his plans and hope that would keep him from bringing harm to me. I nodded my head once again as complete assurance. He and I both knew that this time, my claim to stay still was for real. Matt placed the jar of lavender nail polish at the bed, then walked over to the door. I was suddenly aware that he was about to leave, and I mumbled behind the sock for him to stay. Either he didn't hear me or he didn't want to hear me, because he left without even looking back. As the door clicked shut I realized that I was on my own with this maniac.

By now Jason seemed to feel secure enough with my submission to release my wrists. He did it slowly at first, but I didn't move an inch. I was too afraid of him to resist what he wanted anymore. He finally pulled himself off me then tugged off the socks I was currently wearing. I didn't wear shoes in my own place, so it was an easy thing for him to do. Next he moved up to the zipper of my denim jeans. He slowly unzipped then, and I felt my face flush with embarrassment. No one, no girl, no man, no one, had ever gotten inside my crotch. No one had ever seen me naked, not since my childhood as a toddler. I couldn't believe that the first person who would ever see me naked since then would be this bastard. With one good yank, Jason pulled down my jeans. They slipped free from my thin smooth legs and off my feet, coming to rest next to my two discarded socks. Now that my pants were gone all that was left to conceal my lower body was my underwear, which I was ashamed to say had little teddy bears on them. I was still sixteen after all.

I heard Jason chuckle at me as he saw my underwear. I realized that I would probably never forget this moment for the rest of my life. I had never been so embarrassed in all my young years.

"Ain't that cute." After chuckling at me briefly, he slipped his fingers around my thin waist. I felt weird about how long his hands lingered there, but seconds later they came down and stripped my of my underwear. My small penis bounced up and down with freedom as the underwear slipped off my ankles and feet. And my small ding humoured him even further.

"Heh, heh, heh." He chortled. "Even cuter."

I hoped that he didn't notice my blush. Even if he had to laugh at my genitals, I didn't want him to take pleasure in the fact that he was humiliating me. Jason then pulled off the tee shirt that I had been wearing, an anime motif, that was loose and free around my chest. It came off my head, shoulders and arms very quickly, and I was left as a naked mass upon my own bed. Jason threw the shirt onto the pile of the rest of my gear, and he looked down at me. I shut my eyes as hard as I possibly can. I didn't even want to look at him. I didn't want to see him looking at me. For a few moments didn't hear or see anything, then I noticed the brief unscrewing of something. My curiosity opened my eyes for me, and I looked over at the foot of my bed to see Jason, with the jar of nail polish.

I gulped. I still couldn't speak, and it was getting monotonous to keep breathing from my nose, but I had no choice in the matter. I only lied back and watched as Jason took the little brushing wand and began applying it to my toenails. I struggled to keep tears from dampening my eyes. Strangely I found this more disturbing than Jason smirking at my nakedness. I tried over and over to deny this in my mind, to block it all out and say, hey, this isn't happening to you, it's just a dream'. But as I felt the cold and smooth wetness of the polish moving over the first toe of my right foot, I knew what the truth was. I didn't move a muscle to stop him. And eventually he finished painting the first foot. I looked down as he moved over to the other one. I wiggled my toes a bit and looked at them. My masculinity had been bruised greatly by this, but I strangely found myself occupied' with my painted toenails. It was odd, but Jason had also done a decent job. I expected a clumsy situation, but he did this so swiftly. It was almost like he had done this before. I shook off my literal trance as I felt Jason finish off the second foot.

"Perfect." He said, observing my long toes. "Now for the hands, pussy."

I leaned upwards, and presented my hands evenly for him. It shocked us both to see how submissive I was becoming. Even after the threat of violence, I think Jason expected me to still make some form of resistance against him. But the fear of my impending femininity was far weaker than my fear of physical abuse. Jason clasped my fingers lightly, and set about working each of them into a lavender colour. The process took a little longer than it did with my toes, but one my one, the lacklustre colour that previously garnished my nails fell to the smooth brightness of lavender. Though this all horrified me, I had to admit that the colour of pale purple suited me. Jason pulled back and admired his work once more, and I guessed that he would be doing something else to me now.

"Those need to dry." Jason pointed at my fingers and toes. "I'm gonna get some stuff ready. If I come back and see even one smudge I'll take all of it off and start again. You hear me?"

I nodded. Jason left the room slowly, keeping one eye trained on me. I didn't have much time to enjoy my much loved privacy, because a short while later he came back with a similarly amused smile on his face. By now my nails had dried enough, much to Jason's pleasure. It was about this time that I started thinking that maybe he got off on this. Forcing me into this situation. And I scared myself when I realized that this wasn't bothering me. At least not as much as it would have thirty minutes ago.

"Stand up." Jason commanded.

I did as I was told, standing up and moving away from the bed that I had been lying on. It may have sounded peculiar but I felt more aware of my own nakedness as I moved about. And as I inched towards Jason on my bare feet, I felt like the proverbial lamb being led to the proverbial slaughter. Jason went into the bag again, and withdrew a pair of lilac panties and a lilac bra. I blinked at them. He didn't honestly expect me to wear those, did he?

His eyes showed that he was deathly serious. "Lift up one of your legs."

I obeyed, raising my right leg. He slipped the panties up over my feet and leg, and I filled in the blanks by stepping into the other leg hole. I felt so silly as Jason helped me slip the panties up over my smooth thighs. But I felt even sillier when I started to admire the soft clinging tightness of them. I didn't want to think that way, but the panties did feel nice around my crotch.

"Lift up your arms." Jason stepped closer to me and pulled the bra straps outward. I rose my arms into the air and let him pull those straps around my chest. I felt him fumble to hook them together around my back, but eventually he did it to his own satisfaction. The bra was far more uncomfortable than the panties. The panties seemed to fit around my crotch, but the bra felt really out of place. When I looked down, I noticed that this bra was padded. In fact, it looked specially designed for flat-chested girls because there was very little room provided for large breasts. Suddenly I caught on to the fact that this whole situation had been planned. When I thought about it, it was obvious that Jason had planned to do this to me even before he found out that I had danced with Stacy. But I didn't really see it like that. I guess I just convinced myself that this was a spur of the moment thing. But if Jason had to go to this much effort, I doubted that he would do it just to pay me back. There had to be something more he wanted, and I knew, quite accurately in fact, that it wasn't going to please anyone but him.

After taking a few moments to get used to the feel of the material around my chest, I waited for what Jason wanted next. He grabbed my by the arms, and slowly guided me back down to the bed. I took note of the fact that he was being a lot more gentle with me, though at the time I didn't understand why we would do this. I sat back down on my panty-covered buns, while Jason kneeled just enough to face me at eye-level. His hand took something else out of the bag, an eyebrow pencil. I didn't quite understand his need for it, but I kept still, and tried hard to avoid squirming. Jason focused his eyes on his task and slowly drew over my thin brows in an arc motion. I already had very thin eyebrows, one of the reasons people said that I looked so fruity. I used to resent this aspect of myself, but right now I was thankful for it. Already feminine eyebrows meant that I wouldn't have to suffer the stinging pain of having them plucked. Jason used great precision to carry this out, each stroke was firm but smooth. Again this made me think that Jason had done this before. Soon he had done what he wanted, and although I couldn't see myself, I knew I was looking more and more feminine by the second.

I expected Jason to go into his bag again, but instead he took something from his pocket, a lavender lipstick set to match the nail polish. I didn't know how to apply that so I was glad that Jason did it for me. I kept still as he ran the short staff over my pouting pinkish lips. In no time at all my lips were covered in the painted cream of lilac, and I struggled to picture what it might look like on me.

While I pre-occupied myself with this idea, Jason went inside that bag of his and withdrew even more articles that I hadn't seen. One was the small (which also meant tight) pure white blouse. He also took out a denim mini-skirt of light blue, and a pair of tall black high heels. I trembled when it came to mind that I would love that set up on anyone else. Anyone else but me. I didn't even wait for Jason to order me to get dressed in them. I knew better than to argue at this point. I had already gone so far that stressing a plea would never do me any good. I first took the blouse, and pulled the light white clothing over my head. I slipped each of my arms through each respective armhole, then pulled down the blouse as far as it could possibly go. It didn't reach so far as two inches above my midriff. But I found that I almost liked the feel of a woman's clothing against my skin. It was virtually the same as any top that a guy would wear, but the fact that it was meant for a woman was somehow different. Yet not different in a bad way. I took the mini skirt, and brought my long legs as close together as I possibly could. My bare feet darted through the leg holes, and I pulled the waist up my legs to my waist and bottom. Once it had reached in place, I wiggled my butt cheeks and my thighs to get used to it. To wearing a skirt. It felt odd at first, but again I experienced this strange tingling. I felt somehow, more comfortable in these clothes than I did in my normal ones. But it just wasn't possible. I didn't really like wearing a girl's clothes, did I?

Last but not least were the black heels. They actually looked quite expensive, they possessed sheen and the heels were at least 3 or so inches. They were also open-toed, which meant they would reveal my painted toenails. But then I doubted that Jason would make me go out in public like this, so I recalled thinking how much I loved watching actresses wearing shoes like these. I took them both from Jason and began putting them on. Without even being asked. I undid the dainty little buckle at the side and then slipped my foot inside the first shoe, the straps binding it. I redid the buckle, and repeated the same process with the other shoe. Once I had finished the task, I suddenly contemplated the struggle that some women must have had with these. They bent my feet upwards from the second joints of the toes and were surprisingly awkward. I never would have guessed this, because I always thought that open-toed high heels looked so sexy.

It was pretty easy to stand in them, but harder to walk in them, and I tried to get used to this newfound query. Jason watched quietly as I tried to walk in heels, back and forth in slow, short strides. I soon got the hang of it, but there was still a little oddness in my walk. Ten minutes later, Jason had gone into the bag again. He pulled out jewellery, two rings, a pair of bangle earrings and silver necklace. It was at this time that I remembered that I had both of my ears pierced. It was two years ago that ear studs were the new `cool thing' in my area, back when I was living with my Mom and Dad. I decided to follow the flock and get one too, but unfortunately I got the wrong ear done. In the end I got the second one done, before I was made subject to more teasing, but with both ears pierced I really felt like a fool. I was surprised that Jason even noticed that I had both ears pierced.

"Put these on." He said slowly.

For second I noticed his lack of malice towards me. I ignored it for now, and took all of the pieces of jewellery from his hand. This was probably the easiest part of my femme-transformation, as both the rings and the necklace came on easily. The large hoop earrings were a little more troublesome, but the piercing of my ears hadn't closed up yet, on either side. They hung loosely from my ears, and to my horror, I actually liked the way they felt in combination with my necklace and the rest of my clothes.

I was sort of scaring myself. Was I actually starting to like being dressed as a girl? Was I really liking this? I tried to ask myself this, but for another time Jason went inside that bag of feminine goodies and withdrew something else. A wig.

The hair was a long red, a very alluring strawberry blonde. I was already a redhead, but my hair just about touched the edges of my ears. Jason fixed this on my head himself, and I made a note of the slow care he took while doing so. Just as he wanted, the long mop of satin-like shimming and straight hair came to rest over my natural hair and splashed over my shoulders. And with that final touch, I realized that I must have undergone a complete change of appearance. I was too afraid to look in my mirror before, but I looked over at it on my chest of drawers and gasped.

I didn't see myself anymore. All I saw was the reflection of this beautiful girl. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Was that really me? Was that gorgeous girl I was looking at, really me? I didn't have the power to even understand what was happening to me. And what confused me even more were those looks I was receiving from the man who had created that beautiful girl. I could see Jason's reflection inch up to my own, and I felt my breath quicken as his voice rang in my ears.

"Do you see how sexy you look?" He said smoothly. "I knew you would. Ever since that day I first saw you."

I juddered again. Had Jason been looking at me like that? Even when I was a boy? I felt my heart do jumps. I was even thinking of myself as a girl. Could this really be happening?

Had I now become a woman?

"What name would you like, babes?"

I was virtually dumbstruck. No matter how had I tried to get my head around it, could not understand how that beautiful girl could possibly be me. Jason was right. I did look convincing. More convincing than I would have ever thought possible. I was too entranced by my own beauty to notice Jason's hands slowly run themselves around my body. Up and down, over my `breasts' and around my waist. I couldn't see the attraction in his eyes. If I had, I probably would have realized why he was starting to be gentle with me. It was like he had changed me into my true, real form, and therefore I now belonged to him.

"Okay then. I'll pick your name. Zara. How's that sound?"

Even my voice was feminine in this form. "I like it, Jason."

I didn't quite understand it, but I suddenly felt different about things. It was the kind of change you see some person make on TV and think `that was ridiculously fast'. I couldn't explain it away any better now, but my whole perspective started to alter. I didn't see myself as a boy dressed up as a girl, or a person forced into being a girl. As I looked into that mirror, I felt like something had been pulled out of me, like a spirit or something. And that spirit had now possessed my body with an entirely new view about femininity and what that term in itself meant to me. I was Zara.

Before I even knew what was happening, my thin shoulders were yanked around slowly by Jason. I finally snapped out of my trance-like reverie and I looked up at the taller man questioning. The response I got was a confident smile along with confident eyes. But not only did those eyes hold confidence, they held lust. Suddenly I started remembering what men thought of pretty girls like me. But I had never ... Thought of men like that or in that fashion ever before. That wasn't going to change because of my newfound gender. But it seemed that Jason had other ideas. I was just about to say something that might quell his desire that was so clearly burning in him, but all that escaped my lips was a quiet yelp. I was pulled closer to him with powerful arms, his hands reaching around to my shoulder blades and the small of my back. Both of my palms pressed against his chest, my head of red hair just coming to rest under his chin. Nobody had ever held me in this way. I suppose that was the only reason I didn't push him away. For the first time in my life I felt protected. It was a ridiculous notion, considering that Jason had threatened to kick the crap out of me, but I knew that was what I felt.

I simply shut my eyes and concentrated on my newborn femininity. While I did that, I felt Jason's hands both slide down the cheeks of my ass and grab them respectively. I heard a moan from myself upon the feeling. The feeling of two large hands swallowing my cheeks with their vastness, it was strangely alluring. I couldn't understand the changes that were taking place inside me though. An hour or so ago, I would have been revolted at the idea of a man groping me up, especially a man who had threatened violence on me. But he I was allow Jason to cop a feel from me. I doubted I would ever understand what happened to me when I looked in that mirror, but it had changed me forever. And these changes were reflected in my reaction to Jason's advances. Rather than being repelled, I was allowing it. And I was shocked to find that on some level, I was enjoying it. Jason's hands continued to squeeze at my soft ass, while I nuzzled my head on his neck and chest. For the first time since this transformation started I felt relaxed. If this was all he wanted, I really didn't see the harm in it. But, of course, that was not all he wanted.

"Zara," He said slowly. "I don't think you realize how beautiful you are. It was tricky to bring you around at first, but I love the results. I can tell you do too. Just remember that it took me to bring it outta you. That means you owe me."

"Huh?"

"You're gonna need to make this up to me." The grip he had on my behind grew tighter. "For the next week, you're gonna do everything I want, Zara. And just remember what I can do to you if you screw around with me."

My answer surprised us both. "...Okay."

I could tell that Jason was astounded by my acceptance of his request. But when he said 'everything I want' I guessed that he meant someone to clean up after him or something. Which didn't sound too bad, especially since it was only for a week. Then I would never have to think about slaving away for him. Jason moved away from me and my palms, then walked over to the bed. He sat down facing me, with another of those sneaky grins on his face.

"Okay then, Zara." He stressed my name. "Blow me."

My eyes widened. It may sound stupid but I did not expect him to say that. In fact, that was one of the furthest ideas from my mind. Now I knew what everything I want' was supposed to mean. But why? Jason was what many girls would define as a stud muffin'. He could have his pick of any of the women around here. Why was he looking in my direction? Besides, he knew what I really was, so why...?

I could barely speak. "I-I can't do that..."

"And why not?"

"Because I... I'm not..."

"Remember Zara," Jason began. "You owe me for this. And if that isn't a big enough incentive then think of what I could do to you if you don't do what I want."

I realized that he was right. He couldn't blackmail me with what I was dressed in, I could just deny that any of this happened to anyone. But that did not change the fact that this guy could crush me like a grape at his whim. I couldn't leave... because I was dressed like this. And I couldn't fight back, because, let's face it. I have a brain. Jason would royally waste me with lefts and rights in a straight-up fight. I was in a bind. All I had to do was blow him, right? I could just block it all out of my mind and forget about when it was over, right? I didn't have any choice in the matter. After a few moments of personal debate, Jason was becoming impatient. I could see that much. And I couldn't get on his bad side. I was in a very vulnerable position as I was. Just one little action and I could just put this all behind me...

I saw Jason smile as I walked between his legs and lowered myself onto two knees. He knew as well as I did that he had me where he wanted me. I took to the zipper that confined his man-meat to his jeans. And when I slowly pulled it down; the weight of what I was about to do started to occur to me. I folded the front of boxers he was wearing as low as I possibly could from that position. And then it was revealed to me. A full and thick eight-inches worth of impaling flesh. Stiffening towards its limits. Strangely enough, it didn't disgust me. Not by itself nor under the circumstances.

Jason spoke again, though this time his voice was huskier. "...Blow me..."

And so I did.

Though I accepted it as one action, it was the beginning of a chain of events that would see my life altered beyond anything I could have possibly comprehended. But was the beginning of my life as a woman. And the beginning of a lust I would be maintaining for the man sitting above me...