After School Special/Part Four

by Marlissa

Days later.

The woman and man were standing over him, arguing.

"It's my turn!" the woman was angrily disputing. "You made your picks the last time! Besides," she cooed evilly, "I think you'll like my choice."

Was that Brenda standing behind them, wearing the candy striper uniform? Where was he anyway? A hospital of some kind? What were they doing to him? What had they already done to him? The cast was still on his body leaving only his arms bare. He felt weak and sensed that he had lost a great deal of weight. Strange things were being done to him, things that scared him.

"Well, if you have something interesting in mind, Lesley. What do look do you want for our new pet?"

"The Kelly look of course-- to go with our little Brenda! Wouldn't it be wonderful to have them both? I want to take advantage of that fine blonde hair of his. A wonderful natural feature." She pulled out a scalpel and was using it as a pointer, swinging it through the air as she described how she wished to alter the subject in question. "Small breasts but bigger than Brenda's." She put her arm around little Brenda and clutched a small breast through the striped blouse. She found the nipple through the bra underneath and twisted. Brenda cringed and kept her lips clamped, but the pain in her eyes called out to Glen.

"Yes, maybe a bit bigger. Maybe a pair of nice ripe 32Bs-- cute, feminine, but not centerfold. Big sensitive nipples to play with. A smaller upturned nose. The chin has to go-- even if it gets a little weak, it'll still work. I want to really thin out the eyebrows, but I want to lengthen and thicken the lashes."

Mr. Mason was nodding, in increasing agreement with his wife. "And the lips-- you'll do the lips, correct?"

She nodded. "Yes, but not as much as Brenda. Some moderate collagen should plump up the lips, but let's no go Julia Roberts, alright? There's a pretty bow-shape there that might get ruined. Now, the waist needs to go down of course, and the hips go up- - how about tagging it at a 32-24-29? A nice, huggable petite figure that's almost doll-like. You like?"

Mr. Mason smiled. "I like. Sounds like you're going to give this bitch a nice, tight butt. think she'll be grateful?

Glen froze as he heard the woman's icy, shrill cackle. "After what we do with it, I doubt it honey!"

"And you'll let the hair and nails grow out naturally or will you use an accelerator?"

The doctor looked down at Glen. "An accelerator. Don't you want everything done as quickly as possible?"

The man nodded. "Absolutely."

Pain. The syringe was sinking into his arm again.

**************

Glen winced as Dr. Mason slipped the chastity belt over his male member. The metal was cold and he shivered. The doctor squeezed the microscopic snap with a pair of tweezers and it clicked with finality.

Dr. Mason stroked his cheek, running her hand through his long, lustrous blonde mane of hair. "Cold, pretty baby? Don't worry- - it'll get so hot down there you'll never believe it was so cold! The two openings in the belt between your legs will allow you to relieve yourself-- sitting down of course! Now, stand up."

He obeyed promptly, popping off the hospital bed in the Examination Room. Glen had learned it was actually underneath the Mason's mansion-- a private medical wing devoted entirely to the private experiments and whimsies of Dr. Mason. It was where she had turned him into a girl. There was another room too, but one he had never been in. From the windowless, white hospital-style bedroom where he was locked every night, he could hear things though. Brenda's cries, whippings, Mr. Mason's yells, Dr. Mason's screeching laugh. They called it the "Play Room."

As Glen stood in front of the mirror, he looked at the image that stared back. Was that really him? It was still difficult to believe the changes were permanent even after a whole month's time. The most obvious change was the pair of moderate sized perky high-nippled breasts that hung from his chest. He could feel the jiggle of the orange-sized spheres as he moved quickly, the way the cold air massaged his long nipples into small, hard rubies. They weren't huge, but he could surely feel their weight as he walked.

And he walked differently now too. His legs were longer, his calves shapelier. His instep had been raised, giving him a highstepping toe-first way of walking. His hips were wider as well, his butt fuller. The whole affect was to give him the light airy prance of a ballerina-- or a showgirl.

His hands were soft and callus free as if the heaviest object he had ever lifted was a hairbrush. Even the scar he had gotten from fishing when he was twelve was gone. All that was there now was milky skin as soft as velvet. And having nails now was strange. He had to be careful how he used his hands, how he picked things up, how he held things, otherwise he might break the nails. And that was unthinkable. His arms seemed more relaxed as he walked if he held them up in the air, elbows bent, with hand bent, palms down. It also seemed natural for him to rest his hands high on his hips, practically on his wispy waist. With thumb and index finger resting palm down on them, he felt more relaxed than if he just kept them by his side. Glen couldn't tell, but he guessed some muscles in his body had been lengthened and shorted to produced these desired affectations.

Seeing his face for the first time was a frightening sensation. He could barely believe that the blue eyes were his. Permanent cosmetic contacts, the Doctor had explained. His eyebrows, once as thick as caterpillars were now razor-thin plucked blonde arcs. In contrast, his eyelashes were long and lusciously full- bodied, and he now no longer closed his eyes and opened them- - he batted his lashes. His mouth was even smaller, his thin lips now poutier. When he smiled, his expression was like the one they made Barbie dolls with-- sexy, surprised and happy all at once. His nose was half it's previous size. He had a deviated septum, the result of a long ago high school tussle, which had given his nose a slight bend to the left. But now it was small, upturned and delicate and perfect as porcelain. And framing his whole face was his light blonde hair, now straight and long enough to reach to the tops of his breasts.

As he silently inspected himself, Mr. Mason walked into the white hospital room. "Well, there's the pretty lady! How are you Kelly?" The older man was leering at his new breasts and he held up his hands to shield them.

"Uh, fine, Daddy," he answered in that new, subdued voice of his. Mr. Mason was Daddy and Dr. Mason was Mother, he had been told. Brenda was his little sister. He was Kelly, a sixteen year old girl. A pretty girl who must behave. Or Daddy and Mother would punish Kelly. Glen had already learned what a hard spanking Daddy could give when his Kelly had sassed back. Damn! That had hurt!

"We're about to go over the new rules, Father. Please sit down- - no, not you Kelly. You just stand there in front of the examination mirror and listen carefully."

Glen saw Daddy's eyes on his bare butt reflected in the mirror. It made him so uncomfortable. He had been kept naked since the operations had ended a week ago and it was driving Kelly to the point of nervous exhaustion. He hated being kept nude. It made him so vulnerable. All he wanted to do was snatch up a sheet and cover himself. But he kept quiet and listened to his new parents instead.

"Your chastity belt is designed to keep that silly little thing of yours under complete control. You can function naturally in every way, though it will prevent you from playing with yourself. It's o.k. to blush Kelly-- that's the sign of healthy shame we want to instill in our girls." She smiled. "You SHOULD be ashamed of that little thing-- which is why the chastity belt will control it and keep it nice and flat. We won't have it ruining your panty lines with big bulges! Got it?"

Glen nodded demurely. For now, he had decided it was easier to accept and obey. Minute to minute, hour to hour, he told himself. Just survive long enough to get out of this nightmare alive.

"As you know, you're a lucky little girl. We've adopted you, just like Brenda. Rick has taken care of all the legal details. As your parents, we have complete responsibility for your upbringing and discipline. As you've already discovered, we're very old fashioned when it comes to correcting improper behavior. Our opinion is that pretty girls should be seen and not heard."

Glen swallowed hard. It was still strange to be think Dr. Mason was talking about him, uh, her.

Mr. Mason-- Daddy-- continued where his wife had left off. "It really is too bad for you that you had to meddle in our business- - and that you happened to be such wonderful material to work with! Small, child-like in appearance, no facial hair-- hardly a male at all! Much better suited to be a teenage girl-- like Brenda. You were right about Brenda. We took her when she was about twelve. You see we've always wanted kids. Though not for the usual reasons, right Dear?"

His wife, her hands resting in her white lab coat, nodded in agreement. She was pleased with her handiwork and like a true craftsman kept inspecting the finished product, looking for a single flaw. But there were none, she knew. Kelly was perfect- - a sexy, sixteen year old girl.

"We are extremely successful and up to three years ago, thoroughly bored. Money after a certain point means nothing," Mr. Mason discoursed. "You grow soft, begin to watch too much television. That was how we got hooked on Beverly Hills 90210. Have you seen it? As we watched it, we grew infatuated with the idea of having those beautiful girls to do with as we wished. There's nothing as appealing as a teenage girl coming to terms with her sexuality. The experiments with ever-so-subtly seductive, pretty clothing, the thrill of the stolen first kiss, the innocence of the embrace, the sweet surrender to the first lover. It has a taste fuller than the finer glass of wine. Lesley agreed. She had steadily more aroused by the sight of the pretty, pampered girls on the show. I think she even brought up the idea. Why not capture a runway who looked like one of them for a pet? I could handle the legal aspects of the capture and Lesley could do the necessary cosmetic surgery to turn our new possession into the toy of our dreams?

You have to understand Kelly that Lesley and I are very sophisticated when it comes to sex. We have certain tastes that aren't exactly mainstream. Because we are both very successful, we have come to look at the world in a different way. There are those who take and those who give. Well, instead of waiting for something to be offered, we take it. This goes for our tastes in lovemaking."

Glen noticed a burning glow in the man's eyes that scared him, scared him more than anything else had so far.

"You wouldn't understand this, but people who have power like to use it. The exercise of power over those who don't have it is an intoxicating experience never lose a taste for. Power to correct, power to train and tame, power to bend another to your will--"

"Yessss!" Dr. Mason's hands were plunged deep in her pockets as her husband continued his dark discourse.

He smiled at his wife. "Well, it is a drug. You get hooked. Unfortunately, my wife is just as strong willed as I am. Stalemate. So we used whores-- a poor substitute at best. You never get the sense of true submission. Thus, Lesley's idea. I loved it. Between the two of us, we had the capability to pull it off. But the more Lesley thought about it, the less enthusiastic she was about her own idea. I asked her why but she refused to say.

Then it hit me. She was worried. You see, Lesley is as jealous as any spouse. As am I. She was concerned about the inevitable course of such a plan. What if I became too involved with the runaway? If I came to actually grow affectionate? So I suggested the perfect compromise-- a boy turned into a girl. We would leave the male genitals, but the rest would be completely transformed into a pretty girl. That way we could have our cake and eat it too, so to speak. We would have our teenage temptress to train and play with, and temptation would be avoided because I'd never, ever leave my Lesley to run off with a boy. Not that I would ever leave my darling wife, but this solution made her feel better and satisfied both our appetites."

He stroked his long, strong chin in smugness for the brilliant solution they had concocted. He looked at Glen with wide, questioning eyes, but Glen remained silent.

" Since you had to be a nosy little fool, you have no one to blame except yourself." She smiled disdainfully, her white teeth bared.

"You were kind enough to bring your file regarding Brenda, which I've destroyed." Mr. Mason pulled a cigarette from a small silver case and lit it with an obsidian lighter. He took a long, slow drag on the black Dunhill and continued. "And you're well aware of your tragic demise. So all the loose ends are tied up, are they not?"

Glen continued to clutch his breasts. "You'll punish me if I tell you what I really think of all this," he answered, his soprano voice wavering with fear.

Mason flicked an ash in an ashtray and shook his head. His deep-set eyes were amused. "Go ahead, Kelly. tell us what you REALLY think." His wife's hard. cold eyes were on him too, interested in what he had to say.

"My name isn't Kelly. It's Glen Simmons."

The wife looked at her husband. The two laughed. "Your name is Kelly Mason," Mr. Mason advised patiently. "Here is your birth certificate." He handed a square piece of paper to Kelly, who took it quickly so as to keep his breasts covered.

He scanned it. It said that he was indeed Kelly Mason, that his parents were listed as unknown, that he had been born sixteen years ago. It was notarized with the appropriate date, the signatures legitimate, the document completely legal.

"And this." Mason passed another piece of paper to him. It was notification that Kelly had been adopted by the Masons two months ago-- about the time of his "accident."

"And this." Another piece of paper. This one a death certificate for Glen Simmons, dated and stamped by the proper authorities. It was signed by Dr. Lesley Mason, the reporting physician.

Glen looked up, tears forming. It couldn't be! It was impossible to make someone go away and to create someone else in their place! It couldn't be done-- could it? "I can find witnesses..."

But Mason cut him off. "You can? We did someone investigating and WE couldn't find family, friends, girlfriend, anyone who might miss you. Are you telling me there's someone we missed? Save your breath-- we didn't miss anything."

"No one will suspect anything out of the ordinary, Blue Eyes." Dr. Mason shook her head emphatically. "No one."

"But I'm a man! I have a cock!" Glen shrieked in frustration.

The soprano betrayed him and the couple chuckled lightly at the incongruity of the statement and the dulcet tone in which it was expressed. "Not really. You'll find your chastity belt quite snug, missy. It isn't coming off any time soon. As for being a man, well--- I JUST DON'T THINK SO!" Mr. Mason boomed in scorn.

Glen looked around craftily and smiled. "Fine. You can't watch me all the time. I'll get out of here and then--"

Dr. Mason nodded in agreement. "Naturally you'll be out of here. I've kept you here for observation, for your own good. But it is time you were allowed to live in the house with the rest of us. You have a wonderful bedroom all set up for you. Any high school girl would love it."

"And I'll get out of the house then--"

Mr. Mason looked at him dumbfounded. "Of course you will, young lady! If you think you're going to laze around the house all day, you're plain wrong! You will be getting out of the house-- and going to high school."

Glen was confused. "Fine, then when I get to the high school, I'll...I'll..." His lips opened and slowly closed. His blue eyes widened.

"You'll what, Kelly? What will you do?" Mason puffed on his cigarette. "You'll do nothing, because if you do, you'll be sent home, diagnosed with mental problems. And if you run away, you'll be brought back here by the police. And even if you do get far enough away, what then? How far do you think a pretty blonde, blue eyed sixteen year old runaway girl would get on the highway or city streets? Hummm?"

Glen clutched his breasts closer.

" So you can put those thoughts out of your pretty empty little head. Thinking too much is bad-- very bad. It's a habit you'll lose soon enough. Your mother knows how to help you forget those pesky thoughts with some special medicine you'll be on for a while. Pretty soon you'll be the pretty vapid teen you know you are-- and you can concentrate on what's really important-- like boys and clothes and boys and makeup and boys--"

"And lingerie and boys and jewelry and boys and so on," Dr. Mason rattled off. Then she leered. "Not that boys are EVERYTHING mind you. There are women too."

Glen's hands had bunched into small, angry fists against his heaving bosom. "How can you make me do that? You can't--- you can't make me into a girl if I was born a male! There's no way! You just want an act and I'm not going to pretend to like any of this so you two can get off!" He was furious and confused, but he knew this was right-- he wasn't gay and he couldn't pretend to get into this kinky stuff no matter how much they hurt him. He went on with more confidence. "Oh, yeah, you can MAKE me do things, you can FORCE me to do things, but you'll know it isn't REAL!!!!"

He had hoped the outburst would shatter the perfect surface of their arrogance, their utter calmness and the everyday-way they were talking about remaking Glen Simmons, High School Guidance Counselor into Kelly Mason, sixteen year old girl. He would have to make them see it just wouldn't work-- but now they were laughing at him, laughing deeply and richly, as if he couldn't be more wrong about anything.

The redheaded bitch caressed his arm. "Poor Kelly! Never heard of mellaril? Why would you?," she reminded herself. It's what's responsible for those plump boobs of yours. But you're right-- that's just a physical change, gives you feminine characteristics externally. The real magic is going on inside your metabolism right now. Another benefit of having you as part of our little family is that I get to make up for an error in judgment."

Her husband tried to dispel criticism, but Lesley overruled him with a wagging finger. "Please Rick, don't. I made a mistake with Brenda. I'll admit that. But with Kelly, I can make up for it." She turned back to Glen.

"For the last two months, every since your untimely "accident," your system has been saturated with estradiol. It's a high performance female sex hormone. Brenda was induced with the same treatment. She was given the exact amount of sex hormones a normal girl her age would have. Because of the wonder of biochemistry, I've implanted you, like I did with Brenda, with a device that will convert your testosterone into estradiol. However, instead of giving you the natural level of hormones as we did with Brenda, you'll produce sex hormones at a rate fifty percent higher than the level found in natural-born teenage females."

Rick Mason hooked his finger in his belt, grinning wolfishly. "You see, even though Brenda's system carries the hormones, since they are only average level, she hasn't been as, shall we say, stimulated as we'd like her to be. When we decided we wanted her to have the characteristics of a young teenage girl, we forgot that along with curiosity about sex, there would also be fear and confusion. Brenda's too prim and proper for our tastes."

"Yes, and once the metabolism has been set, you can't screw around with the biochemical mix," Lesley the doctor elaborated. "Brenda behaves just like a normal fourteen year old girl would- - curious but scared, coy and immature. Not what we want when it comes time for frolics in the Play Room. But with the amount of Estradiol you've been given, we're sure you'll be able to help us train Brenda the way we want her to behave for us."

He didn't like the sound of this. "Estradiol? What will it do to me?" he asked feebly. He dreaded that he might guess the answer if not the specifics.

Mr. Mason put out his cigarette, letting his wife answer. He was so deliberate in all his actions, thought Glen. As if he knew every objection I could raise before I said a thing.

The doctor's tongue slipped in and out of her mouth as she explained, as if savoring word after delicious word. "It will make you terribly insecure, very vain, extremely flighty. Your attention span will be very short and you'll become bored with anything that requires too much thinking. You'll be overly preoccupied with your appearance at all times. You'll be led by your emotions, a spoiled brat one minute, a darling angel the next. You'll find yourself unable to make decisions for yourself and you'll be drawn to strength, since you'll be so naturally dependent and submissive. In other words, you'll exhibit every stereotypical female trait exaggerated by fifty percent. And the estradiol will have one more dramatic affect."

"What? Please tell me!" begged Glen.

She licked her lips before answering. "You'll be a very, very horny young lady. Come on, Rick, let's take Kelly to her new room."