Message-ID: <12809eli$9807071540@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "redheaded composer" Subject: New Story: Attacked by Silk Gloves - 2/5 (tg, magic, nc, creative) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Content-Type: text/plain Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <19980706143321.25223.qmail@hotmail.com> New Story: Attacked by Silk Gloves - 2/5 (tg, magic, nc, creative) My second story, I hope you like it. Normal Disclaimer Information: Do not read any further if: 1. You are under the age of 18, or 2. You are offended by explicit sexual and/or erotic writing, or 3. You are offended by humiliating sexual situations This story describes creative situations where a man is magically transformed into a woman, against his will. If this sort of story is likely to offend you, then do not continue. If you have any comments on this story, good or bad, then please tell me so via E-mail! It will encourage me to write more. Thank you, RHMusic - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Paul did not sleep soundly. His dreams were invaded by images of disembodied, self-animated gloves caressing his body, of Rosemary humiliating him as he tried to explain why the gloves were stained with cum, of him naked in front of her, as she verbally abused his massively rock-hard cock. Then, his dreams turned weird. He dreamt he had become a glove, able to move like an inchworm, able to grasp onto an unsuspecting hand and swallow it down his throat. The scene changed and he was a pair of panties, being put on by the daughter and somehow his arms and legs made loops for the leg holes and his face was the strip of fabric at the crotch. She started walking across the room and the panties rode up her ass crack, his face was rubbed across her anus. Then the daughter changed into a man and his face mashed into musky male pubic hairs. Then the man changed into Rosemary and her shriveled buttocks. "Unh!" Paul moaned and shook the images from his mind. That last, intimate picture of Rosemary nearly turned his stomach. It was one of those images that your mind can not resist, precisely because it is so disgusting and weird, while the rest of your body revolts. Paul shook the image from his head, turned over and put his feet on the floor, and reached over to turn on the lamp on the nightstand. The gloves! He had forgotten about the gloves, or had thought they might have drifted away like the other images from his dream, but he felt them as he turned the light on, and there they were: white silk gloves covering his hands up past the elbows. He sighed and held them before his eyes, wondering what to do. Would Rosemary go ballistic when she saw them on him? He expected that Rosemary was responsible for them in the first place, and he knew that he would be wearing them forever unless he got her help to take them off. Perhaps it was her plan to get him to ask for her help, or to make him feel more humble, or something. He took a closer look at the hem of the glove. It was not so restrictive that it cut off his blood, just a nice firm fit. However, the hem had absolutely no give at all. He could not force more than the tip of a finger underneath it. It was like a steel band around his upper arm, allowing no hope for escape. Further, he couldn't slip the glove down his hand. First, his elbow prevented it from going very far, and second any amount he pushed was lost as the glove wriggled back up his arm. Of course, he could always just cut the gloves from his hand. But he was sure that the glove would defend itself (and god only knows what that would mean!) and besides, the gloves were beautiful, and he didn't want to destroy something magical, which was, for the moment, totally mysterious and unfathomable. This was exactly what he had been so desperately searching for these past 6 years. Paul looked at his watch. It was 1:30 AM. He let out another sigh, there were still another 6 hours left before morning. He looked around the room. "That's strange," he said, out loud. Paul spied a bra lying on the bed, off to the side. "Was that there before?" He reached over and picked it up. The bra was perfectly ordinary. It was white, with springy elastic straps that crossed in front. The cups were simple nylon fabric with a stiff underwire. He tossed the bra back where he had picked it up. "Now hold on." This time, there was a body cincher on the bed, next to where he tossed the bra. "I swear, that wasn't there before." He wondered if it had been obscured by shadows, or by the folds in the fabric of the bed. Paul picked up the cincher and looked at it. It was simply a wide strip of fabric, about a foot wide and two feet long, which went about the waist and cinched the waist in a few inches. There were eight hooks on one end, and three rows of eight eyes on the other, for three possible tightness adjustments, each adjustment about an inch tighter. It was lightly boned with plastic stays. There were tabs hanging down from the bottom, obviously intended for holding up stockings. Paul had never seen a cincher before, and he was intensely curious about this new feminine undergarment. He sucked in his belly and held up the cincher, wondering how it would work. The fabric was pretty stiff. The tabs dangled down his legs. Over the next few minutes, Paul would realize how stupid he had been, not recognizing the danger he had encouraged, and he would kick himself for having stayed in the bedroom at all. He honestly thought that the glove trick was all that there was, and didn't realize, until too late, that other pieces of clothing might be similarly inclined. He discovered how just wrong he was in the next instant, when the ends of the cincher whipped out of his hands (easily done because the silk gloves had no grip), and whipped around his body with a *snap* as the first hook caught the first eye. "HUP!" he gasped, as his breath was caught short by the sneak attack. Paul frantically reached behind his back with both hands, trying to grip the ends of the cincher to undo the hooks. *snap*, *snap*, *snap*! Three more hooks coupled with three more eyes. Damn! *snap*, *snap*, His gloved fingers just couldn't get a grip! *snap*! Nor did it seem like he could budge the cincher at all. *snap*! He pushed and twisted, but even just the first hook resolutely refused to be disengaged from the eye. Paul let go and tried to twist around to see if he could see what was going on. *Snap*! The first hook had moved to the next tighter row of eyes. He felt his waist further pulled in and confined. *Snap*, *snap*! Two more cinched in. "Aaahhck!" Paul felt his breath grow short, frantic now that he was being cut in half. He looked down at his waist and saw that it had visibly shrunk, much more than he had thought possible. *Snap*, *snap*, *snap*! Three more hooks cinched in another inch. Paul then felt something brush over his hand. As he looked down, he realized that the bra had also come to life, and that his right hand had been encircled with a bra strap. "Oh no you don't!" he nearly shouted, and pulled at the bra with his left hand, pulling it completely off. But this time, the left hand became encircled with the left strap of the bra. "Damn!" He waved his hands frantically through the air, the bra wildly whipping around him. *Snap*! The final hook on the cincher had made it to the second row of eyes. Paul soon was hopelessly tangled up in the brassier, both hands encircled and tangled with bra straps. *Snap*! The first hook now moved to the next row of eyes, cinching his waist in yet another inch. His waist compressed further, now becoming amazingly small. He suddenly thought that this was more than just mere physics, his waist seemed to be shrinking! *Snap*, *snap*! Two more hooks each tightened up by an inch to the next row of eyes. The constriction was horrible, as his breath came out only in short gasps. He went back to the brassier, and what he saw made his heart sink. The gloves were against him! While his attention had been diverted to the cincher, the gloves had untangled the bra straps, and the bra had actually slipped up his left arm, past the elbow! "Nooooo!" He reached with his right hand, trying to pull the straps back down his arm. As he did, the right bra strap slipped up his right arm, up to the elbow. *Snap*! Another hook pulled the cincher still tighter around his waist. Each snap was taking longer now, as the cincher struggled to pull each one in to the last and tightest position. The pressure was nearly unbearable. And his gloved hands refused to obey his mental instructions! He reached for the bra straps, trying to grasp them and pull them back down his arms, but the fingers refused to grasp! All he could do was paw at the straps, and they easily worked their way up his arms, until the straps were nearly over his shoulders. *Snap*! Another hook tightened. His waist was being inevitably shrunk to a diameter of about 26 inches, where his normal girth was about 32 inches. *Snap*! Only two more to go. The gloves and the bra completely thwarted his attempts to undo the bra, and the straps now slipped up over his shoulders. The ends of the bra slithered around his back, snugly embracing his torso, and the first hook and eye engaged with a *snap*. *Snap*, the cincher pulled in further. *Snap* the second hook on the bra pulled the bra firmly into place, solidly encasing his chest in it's silky grip. Paul could just barely breathe, and couldn't bend over at all. *Snap*, the last hook on the cincher was firmly set in its final position. *Snap*, *Snap*, the hooks on the bra snapped in another position, tightening the bra. And then finally, *Snap, *SNAP*! The bra pulled tighter into its final position, sealing his fate. Paul beat the bed in frustration, gasping, and now in tears. He had been fully defeated by simple articles of woman's underwear, which had magically and easily circumvented all of his defenses and had trapped his body in a virtual silk prison! As the tears streamed down his face wetting the bra, he looked down and saw something he absolutely couldn't believe: his breasts were growing. It was unmistakable, his breasts were expanding to fill the bra. What had been empty, loose fabric cups, were now slowly filling out. He reached up with his hands, in a ridiculous attempt to push the growing bosoms back. His new tits grew steadily within his hands, causing his fingers to part, and his hands to be pushed out. Pretty soon they were at about an A cup, then B, then C, and then they stopped somewhere between C and D. Complete and full breasts, which the bra was just barely able to contain, bosoms which spilled out over the top of their silk confinement. Paul looked at horror at his body as the final goal of these events came to him: he was being transformed. As each piece of clothing attached itself to him, that part of his body had been transformed into something smaller, more delicate, more feminine. He didn't notice it with his hands and waist, because they could have been simply due to the compression of the tight fabrics. But his breasts provided conclusive evidence. "I'm outa here!" Paul announced, realizing now that there was not a moment to loose if he was to keep what was left of his body intact. He hopped to the floor, grabbed his watch, and headed for the door... ... but stumbled and fell down hard on his face and arms. "Shit, shit, shit!" Something had tripped him! He pistoned his legs trying to get them back under him. He looked down at his legs and saw what had gone wrong: a stocking had wound itself around his ankles, and a second was now clasped onto his right foot, working its way over his ankle. "Oh fuck...Ohhhh fuck" Paul could see now where this was headed. He reached down and tried to untangle the stocking. He got a foot free, got to his knees, and lurched for the door.... And fell down hard, again. Now both feet were covered with stockings, one had just wriggled over his knee, and the other was just over his ankle. The struggle didn't last much longer. Paul tried to take off the stockings, but the arms and ands of his gloves wouldn't obey his commands. Every time he tried to get up to leave, stockings or no stockings, his own two feet would trip him up, as if his feet were being pulled out from underneath him. After just a minute or so, the battle was lost. Even the stocking tabs on the cincher had strained down and attached themselves firmly to the stocking tops. Paul lay on his stomach, face to the floor, fingers clawing the carpet, sobbing. He looked down at his legs and a fresh torrent of tears flowed through a gasping "Why me?" His legs had been transformed too. They were now thinner and more beautiful, with much smaller feet and pointed toes. And there was not even a run in the stockings. He made one last attempt for the door, crawling on hands and knees, but the gloves and stockings worked together to thwart any further progress, he struggled against them, but the magic was too strong, he could only just hold still for a few minutes, before his hands and arms pushed him back. He sat back against the bed, shaking from the effort, breathing in gasps, feeling resigned and depressed. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - After his breathing had settled down, Paul took stock of the situation. First, his hands and arms were covered in shiny smooth silk gloves, over the elbow. The gloves would give him control of his fingers and hands only when he relaxed and didn't fight the magic. His hands were smaller than normal, with proportionally longer fingers. Paul rubbed the fingers together, feeling the silk, and, almost against his will, the fingers rose to stroke his cheek as they had already done many times that night. Second, a size C bra covered his chest, made of shiny white nylon. It cupped and hugged his new breasts, which were just a bit too large for the bra. He saw his new nipples for the first time, they had grown significantly, and were about the same size around as his little finger. A silk finger traced down a breast and experimentally brushed his nipple. "Oh!" he sucked in his breath sharply. He had not been prepared for the intensity of the electric thrill that caused his nipples to tingle. Paul swallowed hard as both hands tweaked both nipples and then the fingers traced light circles around the ample curves of his bosom. He then cupped both tits with his hands, and hefted them. At any other time, Paul would have said that they were perfect. With an effort, he continued his exploration with the third item, his waist, which was now enclosed in the grip of the tight waist cincher. He traced his hands around his waist, feeling a light tickle across his sides and stomach. Paul still couldn't believe how narrow his waist had become. Although his breathing was definitely impaired, the cincher was not crushing. The magic had definitely given him a nice hourglass figure. Fourth, the stockings. Again, they were simple nylon stockings, and his legs had become decidedly more slender and curved than before. He ran his fingers up and down their length, feeling how much more sensitive his skin had become. He saw his toes, now seemingly more dainty, as they fanned out the stocking fabric. Paul leaned back against the bed and closed his eyes, trying to put it all together and decide what to do next. One of the gloves, on its own, snaked down to his penis, which was already hard, and started lightly stroking it. A second cupped and played with his bosoms, and lightly stroked and pinched his new nipples. "Oh," Paul moaned. "It's not as if I've been hurt, really. Just transformed. Oh god..." the glove had pinched harder on his nipple, twisting it slightly. "I'm sure the magic can be undone, I am still me, after all. Uhhhh..." the other glove had reached down and was lightly tracing up and down the inside of his sensitive thighs. "And every attempt to fight it has been easily defeated, and I'm exhausted and tired, and trapped. And Jesus! This feels good." A hand went down to rub his balls lightly with silk fingers. Paul relaxed back and closed his eyes as the gloves did their work. He could see no way out of his situation, so he had given up. The sensations were wildly tingling and he felt himself building quickly to his second orgasm that night. It didn't take long, the strange new sensations had shifted his brain into some kind of thrilling new rapture. He was just reaching the peak... But then it stopped. He reached with his hands, but the gloves resisted. Paul jerked up, wondering what had happened, and saw a pair of nylon panties over his ankles, slithering up his legs. "NO!" Paul realized he had not given up after all. He knew what would happen now, and realized that he couldn't let the panties reach their goal. He fumbled down, fighting the gloves, and caught hold of the briefs with a fist. The lady's briefs slipped away and crawled up over his knees. No amount of clenching his thighs, or pawing at them with useless fingers seemed to make any difference. The undergarments settled snugly over his hips, cupping his buttocks, settling around his constricted waist, and clasping around his penis, which, amazingly, was still rock hard. Paul reached down, frantically, covering his penis, trying to protect it, but it was too late... His penis, still hard, began to shrink away underneath his fingers. "Stop! Nooooooo!!!" He pleaded, as he felt it shrink and disappear. The transformation under the panties took just another second, as his buttocks tightened, his hips widened slightly, and the folds at his crotch deepened into the puffy lips of a full-fledged vagina. Paul now had his own pussy, which made him now undeniably female. "But, I'm still me!" he said feebly, wondering if it was really true. He ran his hands over the swell of his hips, over his cute ass, and finally between his legs. His penis was gone. In its place was a vagina, with lips that opened up and thrilled to his touch. It was definitely affected by his recent sexual excitement, for the lips were slightly lubricated and very warm. Paul refused to continue feeling his crotch. "Damn it!" He stated, "I am still a man! This is just magic and I remain who I am!" He rolled on to his knees and stood up - holding on to one of the bed posts for balance. What he saw on the bed caused his heart to sink: a long-sleeved negligee. It was a beautiful garment. Fully silk, long sleeves, slim, an open neck, and with lace and embroidery around the edges. This time he didn't struggle. The gown snaked up his body, covered his head and arms in its silk confinement, and then slipped over his body, like a sheath. The gloves poked through the armholes and each button at the back pushed into its buttonhole, tightening the negligee about his body, smoothing his final bulges into one sleek figure. He was now fully captured in its clasping silk embrace, as it clung closely to his body. He couldn't deny that the feeling of the gown was intensely pleasurable, and wondered if that was part of the magic. Paul took a few steps around the bed and felt the silk slip smoothly around his legs and arms and over his shoulders. Paul stepped on something and looked down. It was a pair of bedroom slippers made of pink taffeta fabric. They had small, flat heels with an open back. His toes curled for a second, and then his feet just automatically stepped into them. "Now what?" he wondered. Paul looked around the room, held his arms out and then looked down at the dressing gown. His new bedroom slippers poked out from underneath the long nightgown. It was late, and he was tired. He sighed, and realized that there was no more energy left with which he could fight the magic anymore. Paul looked up and spied the dressing table. Without any conscious thought, he found his feet guiding him to the dressing table, where he sat down and turned on the lamp next to the mirror. Paul looked into the mirror. "It is still me," he remarked, out loud. His face had not changed, but his it was on top of a body which was obviously not his. As Paul stared into the mirror at this new bust, shoulders, and waist, he became overwhelmed and tears began to roll down his cheeks, slowly at first, and then more as he sobbed and covered his face with his gloved hands. "Damn!" he pounded the table. He was upset that he had been trapped like this. "Why didn't I leave? What will I do?" He knew that his only chance now was to depend on Rosemary to reverse the magic. He had no other choice. Eventually, the crying subsided, and he looked around for a tissue, but none seemed to be handy. Instead, there was a handkerchief, with some lace around the edges. Paul dried his eyes and blew his nose and generally cleaned up. As he finished wiping his face with the handkerchief, he looked into the mirror and saw someone else's face staring back. The face of a beautiful young woman. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - "Oh Janice!" Rosemary was by the side of the bed, a hand over her mouth. Paul rolled over to face Rosemary. He had spent the few remaining hours of the night asleep in bed, under the covers. Before falling into a deep, weary sleep, he did take the time to explore his body, including the curves of his new breasts, the sensitive nipples which, when lightly tweaked, sent uncontrolled jolts through his body, his smooth arms, the amazingly thin waist, sensitive thighs, and finally (of course) his new vagina. The exploration had ended in a warm orgasm, which coursed through his body, causing it to vibrate with a delighted hum. Somehow, he felt a bit more feminine and the body felt a bit less foreign after the experience. After that, he slept soundly. "Oh Janice!" Rosemary repeated, putting a hand on Paul's shoulder, "is it really you?" Her voice had reached a shrill pitch, she was a bit on edge. "No, I'm Paul. Please... I'm still Paul! Out! ...Clothes, off, I need to take these clothes off! Why? Please! Reversed magic... What am I going to tell my parents?" Paul sputtered, not coherent after just having woken up. He looked up at Rosemary. "Oh!" She burst out, dissolving into tears, "Janice!" Rosemary staggered back to the dressing table chair. She pulled her dress up and used it to wipe away her tears, between gasping sobs she continued. "It's been so long." She looked up at Paul again. Paul waited until she settled down. "Rosemary," Paul continued, more gently this time, "I am still Paul. I must be changed back." "No!" her swift fierceness surprised him. Her cragged features became sharp and penetrating. "I've worked 25 years for this moment, and now it's begun. You are my daughter, Janice, and you're going to stay that way." "No, I'm not! I'm Paul! It's still me inside!" "Hah. Look at you. You are the exact image of my darling, and you already hold her spirit within you. Soon, you will fade, and Janice will take over." "Nooooo..." Paul whimpered, collapsing in shock. How could he fight her? "Yes. The more you become accustomed to your new image, the more you become accustomed to your new body and feelings, the more your mind will weaken to her soul. It's only a matter of time before I have my daughter completely back." Paul looked in shock at Rosemary. He barely recognized the words which came from her mouth. She had shed her image as a worn-out old hag as easily as an actor shedding a cloak. In it's place was someone confident, someone with a purpose, someone intelligent, someone to be feared. Paul looked at her straight back. "I won't do it. I won't submit." "Oh but you will. One or two days at the most, every time you sleep, every time you feel the clothes on your skin, every time you have an orgasm, every time you do something feminine, these are the times when your male ego will slip a little, giving my Janice a foothold." Paul cringed, remembering his climax from the night before, and how he had felt afterwards. It was already happening! "Stop!" he cried, hiding his face in the covers. Rosemary walked over to the bed and spoke louder, through the covers. "Give it up! You can't resist. Let her in!" "No! No! NO!" She smiled. "Well, it's going to happen anyway. I'm going down for breakfast. When the bed is done with you, why don't you join me? The dishes are clean." Rosemary slammed the door as she left. [End of Part 2] -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----