The penultimate chapter, folks!
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 8: The Last of the Three
Nick was getting paranoid as hell. He’d waited as long as he could at Miguel’s dorm, but there were more and more female students outside, and they were murmuring amongst themselves, as if waiting for something. The increasingly ditzy bimbo was struggling, trying to figure out just what the hell was happening.
“Like, I don’t get it! We made a plan! Oh God, did we, like, change the plan and I wasn’t paying attention? I need to message Bree and-”
She was almost halfway through the message before she realised what she was doing. How could she trust Bree? Bree was the one who had encouraged so many changes. No, she needed to find Miguel. Only Miguel would know what to do! How to change them back into being totes hot and manly guys and stuff again!
He exited the dorm room. The women were looking his way.
“It’s too late,” one whispered. “You can’t escape this place.”
“Like, shut up!” he yelled, moving to a run, pushing past the girls. His large breasts bounced, his big pink nipples pressing against the material of his shirt and rubbing against it. Had they grown again? God, they were so sensitive!
“Woah, hey there, hot stuff!” one of the new bad boys said, seeing her. “What’s got you in a huff? I can take you inside my room, if you want. Not enough girls here seem interested in-” “Like, stop tempting me!” she shrieked. “I’m not gay! I’m a dude! I’m a tough, controlling dude and I know how to put the pain on you!”
This got a surprised look from the man, but Nick continued on, running down the stairs and then down the next hall and out of the dorm wing entirely. The fresh air was a welcome comfort, but he realised that he’d left his stuff in Miguel’s room.
“Can’t go back!” he stammered to himself. “Like, just need to find Miguel! Need to escape!”
He moved across the campus, trying to find where Miguel was, screeching out his friend’s name repeatedly. But apart from the new men and some of the unknowing androgynous ones, everyone ignored him, and those mentioned treated him like he was crazy.
“Where are you, Miguel!?” he cried, running across the campus green. “Like, we need to get out of here! This place is turning us into fucking pussies! It’s making me, like, some kinda blonde bimbo bitch! Someone! Anyone! I need to find Miguel!”
“I know where he is,” came a familiar voice.
Nick turned instantly, and nearly shrieked at the sight of Bree, who had an amused expression on her face.
“B-Bree!?” Nick managed. “No! Get away from me! You’re the bitch who’s been, like, making me such a stupid big-titted blonde! You can fuck off! Fuck off or I’ll hurt you like I hurt that girl at the Stratt Club that one night! Like I hurt that deer I found in the woods! I swear I will!”
Bree narrowed her eyes, then pointed. “Miguel is just there, across the quad. Best of luck, Nikki. Your time is very near.”
Nick fled, his heart pounding. All his body was wrong. Everything was wrong. The mental constraints were snapping away. He knew who he was supposed to be. He was supposed to be cruel. He was supposed to be in charge. He was supposed to be handsome and pull the girls in and do things to them that even his friends didn’t know and-
And there they were! His friends!
He ran to them, mind nearly snapping into insanity when he realised what was wrong. Amira was still Amira. But Miguel was now Marcela. She wore a beautiful yellow summer dress, her long hair falling to the small of her back, thick and dark and beautiful. Her proportions were even more voluptuous than they had been, and something about her was so deeply traditional. This was a woman who was already, at her young age, looking for a husband to settle down and make kids with.
“No,” Nick said. “No! NO!”
The two women smiled, Amira’s more forced, but Marcela’s entirely genuine.
“It’s okay, Nikki,” Marcela said, her Hispanic features beautiful. “It’s worth it. It really is. I know you think I’m crazy, but I want this. And maybe in time Amira will too.”
“I will!” Amira said, though her inner self tried to rage against it. “I’m going to be a superstar, Nikki. A true hip hop singer! And Marcela here is going to find a nice, wealthy man to get her pregnant with so many babies. And you-”
“I won’t, like, become any of it!” Nick cried, backing up. “I’m not becoming some weak bitch! I own weak bitches! I don’t, like, become them!”
More and more women across the campus were stopping what they were doing, ending their conversations, and looking his way now. A silent army of cultish spectators, with only the few men present, recently transferred, looking on with confusion.
“You’ve got to h-help me!” he cried, moving to the men on the far side of the quad, but a wall of women formed, hushing and shushing her. “F-fuck you! Like, get away! I’m not gonna be some fucking sexy model or cheerleader or whatever! I’m gonna be myself again!”
“Wait, Nikki!” Marcela yelled.
“I’m not Nikki!” he screamed, fleeing from his friends. “Go f-fuck yourselves!”
He turned, and Paige was there, her expression also confused, as if the only one not in on the joke. “Hey?” she said. “Are you okay?”
Nick looked at her. The woman now appeared completely healed. Her hand was back to normal. She didn’t even have a limp as she stepped forward.
“Get back in your chair, you goddamn cripple! I hit you! I did that! You can’t take that away from ME!”
She ran, her mind reeling and overwhelmed. She ran past the edge of the school and out into the forest. She ran until her lungs felt as if they would burst. Until she finally cleared through the trees and reached the wall that circled the complex as if it were a true prison, which she now knew it really was.
“No!” she cried. “There must, like, be a way! I’m getting out of here! I’m gonna, like, fuck all the bitches I can when I change back! I’m gonna get my knives back! I’m gonna hunt deer like I used to! My Mom and Dad will clear everything away! I don’t deserve to get, like, charged! That happens to other people, not me!”
She managed to get a grip on the wall. She hadn’t even realised she was thinking of herself through the female lens already. There was a slight crack, enough to leverage herself up. She raised her body, gliding her feet above her, moving with the strength and grace of a cheerleader. She was so close. So fucking close.
“You are so beautiful,” came a voice.
It was enough to startle her completely, and make her fall. She landed on her breasts, causing her to whine in a high, sweet voice.
“No! Stay back, Headmistress! I’ve, like, got a knife!”
She held up the kitchen knife she’d stolen from the cafeteria, but the Headmistress simply shook her head slowly. “You can’t. Your VR experience was stronger than most, and focused on your violent tendencies, Nicholas. More than your friends, we needed you to be harmless. Your parents wanted you harmless. That’s why you’re becoming the beautiful, yet mentally vacant, woman that you are.”
Nick looked around to see more figures stepping out from the woods. Bree was there. As were Amira and Marcela, who had followed her. And the last were her parents, who stood tall and serious, judgement in their eyes as they regarded the buxom ginger.
“Mom? Dad?”
Both had the severe look of businesspeople, not parents. His mother, the one from whom he got his red hair, was practically scowling, while his father’s eyes showed little more than abject disappointment.
“Son,” his father said. “I’ve been waiting a long, long time for this. You have no idea how long we’ve wanted a better child.”
“What!? What the f-frick? Amira! Marcela! Help me!”
But her two friends just gave sheepish smiles.
“Sorry, this is part of it,” Marcela said. “Don’t worry, it’ll all make sense soon.”
“So much sense,” Amira replied. “And then it’ll be too late.”
Nick backed up against the wall. She still had the knife in her hand, but her ability to use it was compromised. Just the idea of visiting violence was almost like a stab itself, right through her own heart.
“Mom! Fucking help me if Dad won’t, you dumb bitch!”
His mother just sighed. “Once, I would have cried to hear that, my Nicholas. I’ve spent so many years afraid of you. We tried everything; counselling, educational programs, bribery, all of it! Anything to try and stop your violent, cruel impulses.”
“We found your handiwork once,” her father continued. “How could you do that to our family cat? You really thought we wouldn’t look under the property?”
Nick swallowed. “Look, this isn’t, like, fair!”
“You’re right. We have been too unfair to you. Too lenient. I tried to get you out of trouble, when I should have doled out consequences. Now, it’s too late. We simply have to try again with a daughter.”
“But - but you’re making me, like, a total bimbo!”
“Because it serves you right!” her mother said. “After what you did to the girls who turned you down! We found out about that too, Nick. Well, finally you get your just desserts. I can have a daughter I won’t be afraid of, and I’ll always know the monster my son became will be punished.”
“I can change!” she cried, tears pouring down her cheeks.
“You will,” the Headmistress said. She raised her hand, clutching a purple Pop Fizz can. “Right now, in fact. I would have preferred to do this in the lab, Nikki, but this place will work, I suppose. It is time to join your friends. Time to join Nikki.”
“I won’t! Fuck you, whore!”
Lillian sighed. “Drink it now, Nikki,” she said.
This time, the implanted psychological suggestion was too strong to overcome. Nick took the can and began to drink it. Several times, he managed to keep it further from his lips, only to return to imbibing the divine transformative substance. He grunted, trying to overturn it, but the addiction was powerful, and his mental fortitude diminishing rapidly. And then the change came anyway, sweet and wondrous to experience.
“Ohhhhh,” he gasped. “It’s, like, happening! I can f-feel my dick! AIIIEE!!!”
His body erupted into an orgasm as his member withdrew back into his body, followed by his testicles. He writhed, lowering a hand to clutch his genitals, feeling them scoop back up inside of him, reforming into a vaginal passage. It left him moaning, and he dropped the can to the ground, nearly falling over himself. Everyone was watching him expectantly, including his friends. It was the ultimate humiliation, but there was no avoiding it.
“Mhmm! Like, this isn’t fair! I don’t want to be some bimbo b-bitch! Ahhhh!”
His mental identity switched once more, and for the last time at that. It was impossible not to think of herself as a woman, especially now that she had a pussy. Just to emphasise her femininity, her breasts expanded another full cup-size as well, and her waist became yet more petite. Her red hair took on an even brighter sheen, and her lips became pouty and kissable, the kind of lips she and Marcela would once have called a pair of ‘perfect dick-sucking lips.’ Now, she couldn’t stop imagining herself sucking a big, hard dick and tasting its ejaculating cum, and just the shameful thought of it made her orgasm yet again.
“This isn’t, like, fair!” she screeched, panting against the wall. “I don’t, like, deserve this!”
“We all know that’s not true,” the Headmistress said. “Especially after what you did to poor Paige Heathers. Don’t worry though, Nikki. You won’t be in control of your body. Even among the many bad boys we have here, you are truly unique in your cruelty and desire to hurt and blame others. We’ve talked it over with your parents and, well, they’re cutting you loose.”
“What!?”
“It’s true,” her father said, stern and angry. “You’ll behave from now on, Nikki, but don’t expect support from us. You can cheer and model and prove you belong in this family, but if you end up on the streets prostituting yourself, well, that’s your business.”
Nikki’s jaw dropped. Her mother had the same stern look as her father. They were both in on this. All of them were!
“Like, this isn’t right!” she cried. “I’ll get you all back! I’ll fucking punish you and - and - and . . .”
Something was happening. She was falling back inside of herself. Someone else was taking control of her body, her face, her tongue. Suddenly, despite her internal confusion and anger and horror, her body actually made her smile sweetly. She was trapped in a sunken place, unable to affect anything, her form automatically moving for her.
“And I completely understand, Mom and Dad! I’ve been such a bad girl, but I promise to be soooooooo much better from now on. I promise I’ll be a good girl, even if I’m, like, totally hot and have a super strong libido and stuff, hee!”
Nick wanted to scream, even more so when the crowd gave their approval. Even Marcela and Amira looked happy for her, the brainwashed fools! She tried to claw back control, but nothing could stop her from acting like a bubbly-brained and sweet-natured bimbo. The Headmistress moved closer and whispered in her ear.
“Being trapped in here will teach you the empathy you badly need, Nicholas,” she said. “I’ve made sure your brainwashing will cover just that scenario. Now . . . feel guilt.”
The command phrase hit her with the force of an asteroid. While her outer self was all smiles and ditziness, the inner Nikki - the real her - was suddenly struck with a wave of guilt. Images of all her wrongdoings, all her violence and victim-blaming, all her bullying, all the trails of hurt she’d left behind her in her wake - it all crashed over her in a veritable tidal wave of guilt. Every lasting pain, every trauma, every act of torture both physical and emotional, all the scars she’d left visible and invisible upon those around her seared deep into her psyche.
Nicholas would have screamed at this epiphany.
Instead, Nikki grinned all the wider, looking down at herself and putting on a rather feminine pose, one hand on her hip and the other behind her head.
“Like, I’m soooo glad to be this way. Um, can I totes wear something way sexier now?”
To Be Concluded!