Summary:

Derek is a bully. The son of a wealthy and neglectful family who takes out his issues on others. This time, he might have picked the wrong target. This time, he might have taken things too far. This time, he's getting the tables turned on him. He might just be getting what he always really wanted with a little help from a magical shop of clothing.

Excerpt:

My eyes alit themselves on a combination of objects that I certainly never believed I would find myself wearing. It was a latex top and an under bust corset that were clearly designed for an extremely feminine figure. A figure that I clearly didn't have. A wave of disappointment rushed through me that I couldn't wear those items properly. On the heels of that wave, however, came a realization and a violent spark of disgust and rebellion.

I didn't want to be a girl.

The idea was ridiculous.

But, it seemed as though these objects had their own plans for me.

As the gloves started to pull the top and corset towards me, I resisted. I fought as the collar tightened down on my throat. I thrashed against my restraints as the gloves slapped and spanked me. I shook in fear and anger as my cock only grew harder from the abuse I was receiving.

The collar tightened, and the spanking became more vicious. My will crumbled under the assault. My resolve was broken and washed away with the tide of pain, fear, and arousal. The collar finally loosened as the gloves once again lifted my arms into the air. Without pomp or circumstance the latex top was thrust down upon my torso. The corset was merely a few seconds behind, cinching tightly around my waist.

I could see on a nearby mirror that the outfit was already giving me a feminine appearance, one not gained through any transformation or change of the flesh. A womanly appearance gained only through the shape of my outfit and the clear resignation and submission in my posture.

I'm not sure how long I stayed there, watching the latex gloves dance across my reflection, smoothing the outfit onto my body. After the top and the corset were in place along with a pair each of elbow-length gloves and thigh high stockings, I was laid flat on my stomach, and my hands were tied behind my back.

The gloved hands grabbed the back of my corset, and the choker and collar pulled taut once more. The corset was pulled ever tighter, painfully squeezing my stomach down in size. With each tug of the laces, an erotic jolt of pain surged through my waist. Shortly after each tug, the pain disappeared. It was as if the corset was training my waist in mere moments rather than the weeks of wear it would normally take.

Each squeeze was painful, but I found the pain gave way quickly to pleasure, which in turn gave way to the sensation of becoming light headed.

The choker and collar loosened, the latex gloves released the corset. I gasped and tried to fill my lungs with air. However, the corset prevented too much expansion of my lungs, and the tight, restrictive feeling of my chest made it difficult to breathe deeply.

The gloves then went on to forcefully massage the various parts of my body already covered in latex. The gloves dug their digits into my flesh, forcefully remolding it like a sculptor working on clay. My limbs slimmed and lengthened, my fingers and hands shrank into dainty little wisps, my shoulders practically collapsed in on themselves. Every instant of it was wonderful agony.