He sensed my need to submit. He made me into her.
I took the job as his assistant to get close to him. To feel a bit of his power reflected onto me. To tend to his every need and to make sure that he was satisfied.
With one look at me, he knew me better than I knew myself. He knew what it was that I really needed. He knew that I needed to be her.
Working for him was always going to change me, but I never imagined the changes would go this far. He put me in the body of a woman, with all of the delicate curves and graceful beauty that comes with that. He made me her and then he made me beg.
Beg for him to satisfy me. Beg for him to show me what my body can take. Promise him that all he has to do is ask and I’ll do anything, just so long as he makes me what I’ve always needed to be.
Just so long as he makes me his woman.
Excerpt
I didn’t need to think about it, “Sir, I’ll be anything you want me to be.”
His hand withdrew from his pocket and he held it up in front of him, between the two of us. Perched between thumb and forefinger was a small pink pill and he held it out like a sacrament, like a blessing for me.
My lips parted, my tongue out and I let him place it on the wide flat as I drew it in. Swallowing it dry was the easiest thing I’d ever done in my life, my eagerness to satisfy him overcoming any concern about my inadequacies. I was done being inadequate. I was done with not being enough for him.
That was my last thought, just before the bubbling heat started. Just before the warmth in my belly turned into a bursting gush of hot heat that roared through me so quick it overwhelmed me and but for him stepping in to grab my body I would have slumped hard to the ground.
My eyes fluttered and he was the last thing I saw as the darkness closed in.
I couldn’t have been out longer than a minute, though for it to have done all it did within that short a span of time was unbelievable to me. All I know for certain is that when I closed my eyes I was in ill-fitting clothes and a body that I’d never been comfortable in, and that when I opened them back up again none of that was the case.
I could sense it, even without looking in a mirror and even without knowing it, I could sense the changes. As my boss tilted me back up onto my feet and made sure that I was steady, as his hand settled into the small of my back instead of gripping my upper arm to lead me out of the room, as the heels that fit my feet so well made a rhythmic ticking with each of my footsteps I knew that I’d been changed. And I knew what I would find in the reflection in the mirror.
Down by the elevator one wall was made up to be a full-length mirror and as we came down the stairs I descended into view. Bit by bit, shoes and then legs and then skirt and then waist and then shirt and then face. I was her. I was everything I’d wanted to be.
Seeing her, it was nearly painful to see her because she was so beautiful, she was so perfect. I’d had this idea of her in my mind’s eye but I’d lived a life where you could only ever get so close to realizing that, where the expectation would always fall short of reality but really and truly that wasn’t the case here. She was everything I wanted her to be and more because she was who he wanted her to be. She was enough to satisfy him.
I stopped in front of the mirror and took in every last inch of her, turning slowly as a delighted smile played across my lips. I memorized the curve of her calves and the swell of her breasts. The way her pale blue eyes seemed to shimmer and stand out against her snow-white skin and her raven black hair. The swell of those kissably pink lips of hers, so full and enticing. There was no way to express how happy I was to see this reflection, how happy I was to be her.
But when I turned to the man who had made me into this, I found him standing beside an open elevator and gesturing me inside.
Confused and teetering on my new feet I sort of fell into place, stepping over and stepping into the empty elevator as my mouth worked to form words but no sounds came out. I was in the elevator and I was turning around and I was looking at him, my perfect brow furrowing in confusion.
“A car is waiting for you on the street downstairs and I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” he said, “Bright and early. First thing.”
I’ll never forget the look on his face, the way it was so impassive and so ordinary. Mr. Villarreal had gone through all of this effort and the purpose of it, well I’d thought I’d known it but his reaction didn’t make a bit of sense to me.
I pondered it as I stepped through the lobby of his building, as I rode in the car he’d called for me all the way home and as I walked up the four flights of steps all the way to my apartment and when I was in and back in the safety of my home I found myself walking over to my bedroom, snapping on the light, and staring at myself in the mirror on the back of my closet door.
I was beautiful. I was perfect. So why didn’t he want to fuck me?