By FoxFaceStories
A Commission for Slayerangel
Andre, Miguel, and Nicholas are three friends with a choice: either go to prison for their numerous street crimes, or undertake a form of community service at St. Elizabeth’s School for Girls. The young men take the offer, thinking it will just be a brief embarrassment. But soon they discover that they are being transformed into beautiful women with personalities more befitting a productive society!
Part 6: Out of the Memory Hole
“Hey, calm down!” Aura said. “We’ve all been through it, honey!”
But Andre couldn’t calm down. The brainwashing from his time in the VR session had broken down, and his brain could no longer work around the obvious; his body hadn’t just changed in miniscule ways, he was turning into a fucking woman! He had bigger tits than pretty much any chick he’d ever dated. He cupped them, moaning a little at their sensitivity.
“What the fuck, man!? These things are huge! Why are they so fucking huge!?”
“They’re not that big,” Aura said, rolling her eyes. “You’re probably a D cup. Maybe a Double-D.”
“I got big-ass titties here!”
“No, that’s a big ass,” she said, gesturing to his rear.
Instantly, Andre stood and looked around to his backside, only to immediately make an embarrassing, high-pitched squeak. “What the hell? I’m dragging a fucking wagon back here!”
“Damn right you are,” Aura said. “I bet that thing’ll be bigger than my own butt soon. Of course, I don’t want mine any bigger. I miss my flat man ass.”
Andre paused, even as he felt his body over, even as he touched his dick and felt how damn small it was.
“Y-your man ass? What the fuck are you talking about? Tell me, or I’ll - I’ll - UGHH!”
His violent streak returned as he grabbed Aura’s bedside and moved to throw it right at her. Only . . . something held him back. He simply couldn’t. It didn’t feel right. Violence didn’t feel right, and come to think of it, neither did scamming people either. It was like there were still blocks in his brain, ones that had gone far deeper than he’d realised.
“Why can’t I throw this?” he asked, voice cracking again. It now had a sexy, husky quality to it. A lovely drawl that he associated with hot black girls like Aura, only now he was sounding like her too.
“We can’t use violence,” Aura said. “It’s part of the mental programming, babe. Trust me, I was literally getting into fights with the police before my parents sent my ass here.”
But Andre was barely listening. Everything was jiggling, and his boobs were sore on his chest, unsupported and bouncing everywhere as he began to panic.
“No! No, this can’t be happening! This can’t be fucking happening! Why the hell am I a bitch? Why the fuck am I turning into a chick!? I even fucking sound like one!”
Aura gestured for him to calm down, not that it achieved much. “It’ll all make sense soon, Amira.”
“My name’s not Amira! I’m goddamn Andre! Holy shit, I’m only like 5’9 now! Why am I so short!?”
“You’re actually quite tall for a woman, but then you probably have to be, in order to be a superstar. For both of us to be superstars.”
“A what!?”
Aura gave an embarrassed smile. “I’m not meant to give it all away, I’m sorry. I was just told to shadow you. Some of us that accept our fates or don’t want to end up with worse ones get told to follow the ‘bad case boys’ and make sure everything goes well for them. I nearly gave it away, but that was weeks ago, when I was angrier about being like this. Now, well, I’m finished. I got my pussy three weeks ago, babe. Can’t go back from that, but I can be a goddamn superstar singer and songwriter, instead of some street prostitute or callgirl.”
Andre was stepping away, his heart beating rapidly. It was all wrong. It was all so goddamn wrong. He needed to get out of here, fast. But where could he go that could even undo this? He had big boobs and a big butt and a set of hips that would make a man weep to see how beautiful they were. He had a gorgeous loose afro and a perfect nubian face. He was so close to being fully a woman that he’d be kidding himself to think he could ever pass as a man again.
“I - how can they change me back!? I’ll do anything!”
Aura sighed as footsteps approached the door. She began to cover herself up, putting her clothes back on again. “That’s between you and them. Sorry, Amira. I tried to warn you once. I’m sure we’re gonna be great friends going forward.”
The door opened, and several staff faculty entered, including two members of campus security.
“Andre Cripps?” one of them said. “Sorry, I should say Amira Cripps. Come with us, and you’ll get all the answers you need.”
Andre clenched his fists, but no violent impulse came. He held no cards, and he needed answers.
“Okay,” he said weakly, his new voice reminding him of just how female he was.
***
Andre was taken back to the labs, this time to the very end of the hall. Memories were stirring again, slowly uncovering his VR experience and what the Headmistress had told him through the recordings. Something about becoming a woman, about being ‘reformed and remade.’ He could hear music, see flickers of a gorgeous woman in a vibrant pink-and-blue outfit, stylish and sexy and out there, singing to an entire crowd. He tried to fight that vision, but something in his psychology was giving way to it, surrendering to the brainwashing.
“Right through here,” the security officer said after entering a code for the door.
Andre nervously entered, and the door shut and locked behind him. He was in a circular room that reminded him of a surgical suite, complete with window panes above for trainees and family members to look down upon. A single light dominated above, lighting the centre of the room and leaving much of the rest in shadow.
And there was the Headmistress, standing right beneath the light. She smiled, her looks as beautiful as he remembered, her voice magnetic when she spoke, retaining traces of the brainwashing.
“Amira, please step forward.”
“I’m n-not Amira.”
“You will be, soon. Please, come forward.”
He tried to fight it, but the command in her voice was clear. Some psychological suggestion urged him forward, and so he walked.
“Please, walk naturally. Like a woman. A woman who wants to be watched.”
Suddenly, he began to sway his hips more provocatively. His breasts jostled in his shirt, badly needing support. Without thinking, he even adjusted his loose afro in a rather showy and feminine manner.
“Much better,” Headmistress Lillian said. “You are gorgeous. It’s a wonderful feeling, isn’t it? To be genetically enhanced, I mean. I was an aging woman in my sixties when I perfected this treatment. Naturally, I applied it to myself. They say black don’t crack, but I assure you, the wrinkles were mounting. Of course, becoming younger and more beautiful had its downsides; namely, the horrid men in my life who suddenly treated me as a piece of meat again. That’s where I got the idea for this school. I could use my technology to give back to the world.”
“How is this goddamn giving back!?” Andre exclaimed.
The Headmistress gave an amused smirk. “Amira, let’s not be stupid, because as much as you have a temper, I know you’re not stupid. You were a scam artist and a violent thug of a man. You hurt others, through physical action and even more through your greedy scams. You destroyed lives, and encouraged your friends to do the same. Now you can be a more productive member of society. So . . . put on your new clothes, Amira.”
She gestured to some material on the floor that Andre only just then realised was carefully folded clothing. Again, that mental conditioning kicked in, and he found he couldn’t stop himself. He moved in his sensual manner towards the pile and picked up the first article. It was a leather leotard with a silver zipper at the front. Beneath it were arm-length gloves - one pink, the other electric blue, and then thigh-high boots in the same colours. It was the exact outfit Aura had described, and that she had seen in the VR session.
“Oh fuck,” he said. “I can’t - I can’t -”
But he was already stripping off his ill-fitting male clothing and unzipping the black leotard. It fit him almost perfectly, hugging his perfect ass and pulling tight against his hips, but it was just slightly loose in the chest and uncomfortable against his crotch; the indentation of his small penis was obvious. Still, he put on the gloves and boots, trembling all the while as Dr Phelps rolled a tall mirror out for him to see himself. He looked like a goddamn sexy hip hop rap artist with an EDM edge. The only thing missing was the dye in his loose afro; pink on one side, blue on the other to match his outfit.
“No! This isn’t fucking fair!”
“Neither was scamming people, Andre,” Headmistress Lillian continued. “But don’t worry, your change is about to be complete.”
“My folks will s-stop this!”
“Your folks paid for this. They’re watching right now. Say hello to Mom and Pop, Amira.”
The lights in the viewing window above suddenly turned on, and Andre was horrified by the sight of his parents above. They were looking down at him with a set of eerie smiles. His father hit the intercom button.
“Hello, my boy.”
Andre nearly fainted. “D-Dad? What’s h-happening?”
“We’re finally correcting you, Andre. All these scams, all the violence, all the criminality . . . we had ambitions for you. We thought you were going to be a great businessman or an entertainer with your charisma, but you disappointed us all. Not anymore. Now, you’re going to be the child we should have had.”
“What!?”
His mother spoke. “I always wanted a girl, Andre. A beautiful little girl named Amira. This is my chance to have that girl, instead of the criminal my son became. Trust us, this is for the best. You’re going to be a superstar, Amira. I just know it! You can finally use your charisma and talent for good, and with some extra musical ability, you’ll reach the heights you’ve always aspired to. Everyone wins!”
Andre was unable to even speak, he was so shocked. He’d always treated his parents as a get-out-of-jail-free card, just like his friends, but now . . . now they were going to turn him into a goddamn female singer!? One with sex appeal?
“I won’t do it!” he cried, voice cracking.
“You will,” his father said. “Headmistress Lillian explained the process to us. You’ll be compelled to. If you try to fight it, well . . .”
“Amira will take over,” his mother said, in a tone that sounded like this was the preferred option anyway.
“Now you know,” the Headmistress said. She was holding up a Pop Fizz, one that was a purple can rather than a blue one. It advertised itself as ‘Extra Strength.’ Andre didn’t like the sound of that. “It’s time, Amira. Time to become the new, reformed you. Drink this.”
“I - I won’t!”
“Drink it now.”
The brainwashing hit him, forcing him to raise his arm. His arm trembled at his resistance, but it was, as they say, ultimately futile. He cracked open the can and drank it down in one giant series of gulps, moaning the whole time, grunting and trying to prevent his addiction.
“It’s done,” the Headmistress said as she removed the can from his grip and placed it on the floor. “Now, it’s time, Amira. Time for you to become a new woman.”
Andre didn’t even have a spare second to give an angry retort. Instead, his body was instantly hit with a series of pressures that gave way to a flood of final changes. A strong euphoria came over him, and while he tried to avoid doing it, he couldn’t stop himself from moaning in loud ecstasy. It was all the more humiliating with his parents watching, hearing him sound like that.
But he wasn’t a he much longer. His penis withdrew, burrowing back into his body as his vaginal passage finally opened up. A flood of endorphins hit the changing man, causing another eruption of loud cries of ultimate bliss.
“Ohhhhhh, God! Ohhhhhh! It’s happening! Mhmmm! I can’t s-stop it!”
Neurons fired, fizzled, formed, and reconnected. In the span of less than a second, Andre’s entire personal identity switched as if activated by a lever. It was impossible to think of himself as a man, or even as Andre anymore. She was Amira, a gorgeous and incredibly curvaceous black beauty with a big ass, big hips, and really big tits. They surged forward, finally fitting the ample bustline of her top, and she had to unzip the upper section just to give her glorious boobs breathing room. They were each half the size of her own head, massive cantaloupes with a deep line of cleavage now on display. She writhed again, feeling her womb form, her ovaries extending outwards from her passage, connected by their fallopian tubes, and finally the cessation of her testicles, which shrank into nothingness.
“Ughhhh!” she groaned, clutching her fine female body. “This c-can’t be happening!”
But it was, and there was no escape. It took a long time for the pleasure to finally subside, but when it did, Amira stood there, not Andre. She still had all of her memories and her personality, but she was female through and through, and there was something . . . sunken about her. As if parts of herself simply couldn’t be expressed properly, no matter how much she wanted to scream. Instead, she made a sexy pose, one hand on her hip.
“How are you feeling, Amira?” Headmistress Lillian asked.
“A-OK, baby,” she said, grinning. “And ready to sing my lungs out! Where’s my girl Aura? We got some work to be doing!”
“You’re not concerned about being a woman now?”
“What are you talking about? I’ve always been a woman, Headmistress. More woman than most men can handle, I’ll tell you that. Though I still like to let them try!”
The Headmistress smiled and looked up to Amira’s parents in the viewing room.
“As you can see, Amira will act as if she has always been Amira. The effect will wear off a little over time. She’ll still be compelled to act as the woman we’ve made her, but her original self won’t be forced to be a ‘passive viewer’, so to speak. That would only become permanent if we wished her to remain passive, behind ‘the eyes’ of her new self, so to speak. We reserve that punishment for the worst of the worst, of course. This current sunken effect is just to make sure she adjusts and gets with the program and doesn’t warn her friends. Most of our girls go through this stage, and then are able to communicate more freely with one another once they have accepted their new lives, such as her friend Aura has.”
The parents nodded.
“That makes sense to me,” her father said, much to her despair. “Amira, you will get some of your freedom back, it sounds like. But for now, just learn from your new self and follow your compulsions. We expect better things from you from now on. If you can’t do that, we’ll revisit this ‘sunken’ option.”
Amira shivered, but all she could do was give her thumbs up to her father. “All good, Pops! Trust me, this new gal is gonna tear up the music scene and be better behaved from now on! Just you wait!”
It was not what she wanted, but she couldn’t stop her body and mouth from operating independently of her. She was stuck in an overly curvaceous body, fully female, pussy and thighs and hips and breasts and a beautiful face and everything, and there was no way to even protest her fate.
Which also meant that there was no way for her to warn her friends.
To Be Continued . . .