The Bad Girl Pose

by: | Complete Story | Last updated Jul 31, 2008


It's just an average workday for Myra and Amanda as they transform unwilling men into women and little girls.


Chapter 1
The Bad Girl Pose


Chapter Description: It's just an average workday for Myra and Amanda as they transform unwilling men into women and little girls.


The Bad Girl Pose

by Filthy Mind

Myra grinned to herself as she pulled on her rubber glove and snapped it against her wrist. She savored the smell of talc in the air.

"Almost 9:05. They’re late with the first one, today."

Amanda looked up from the tray of instruments she was setting up.

"They’ve got plenty for us today." She sighed. "We’ll be busy."

Myra gave her a worried look.

"You don’t sound too happy about it."

"I think I need a little vacation or something. Lately I’ve just been kind of bored."

Myra laughed.

"BORED? How could you possibly get bored, doing this?"

Amanda shrugged.

"I guess a person can get bored doing anything, if she does it enough."

Myra shook her head and flipped a few switches. Various machines hummed to life, fluids coursing through pulsing tubes.

"You just need to get a little crazier. Have fun with it. You’re too easy on them."

"I can’t help it. I feel a little sorry for them, sometimes."

Myra twisted a knob on the largest machine in the room. It began to emit a low-pitched sound that made all the instruments vibrate slightly in their trays.

"They’re here for a reason, sweetie," Myra said. "They deserve everything that’s happening to them. And more."

Amanda pulled on her own gloves.

"I know. Maybe I’ll trying being a little more hardcore, today. I guess it’s worth a shot."

They heard the squeaky wheels of a gurney coming up the hall, outside. Myra grinned at Amanda.

"Oo! First one of the day. Come on, let’s do the bad girl pose."

Amanda chuckled wryly and shook her head. They folded their arms and stood back to back with sneering expressions on their faces, looking as cruel and sexy as they could manage.

The "bad girl pose" had been Amanda’s idea, way back when. They did it for every guy who was brought in, and while it was kind of silly and over the top, it sure seemed to make an impression on the guys.

"Wait," Myra said. "Boobs."

They both laughed and adjusted their cleavage in their push-up bras, fluffing up their breasts to look bigger. Then they resumed the bad girl pose.

The door opened, and Anna wheeled in the first guy of the day. Like all the others, he was naked and held down on the gurney with strong restraints.

He was big. Hairy, muscular, a bit chubby. Amanda thought he was kind of cute. His cock was limp, but it was still impressive.

"Hi, Anna," Myra said. "It looks like you’ve brought us a very manly fellow, this morning."

"Yeah," Anna said. "This bad boy put up a real fight. Have fun."

Anna turned and left. The man looked back and forth between Amanda and Myra desperately.

"Who are you people? What the hell am I doing here?"

Amanda glanced at the clipboard attached to the side of the gurney, then she smirked down at him.

"Sorry, George. No time to answer questions. We have quotas to maintain, you know."

"Quotas? What kind of quotas? What are you talking about?"

Amanda moistened a little pad and scrubbed his arm. He looked at her with wild eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"This will hurt."

She picked up a hypodermic from the tray and jabbed it into his arm. He jolted on the gurney, straining against his restraints.

"What WAS that? What the hell WAS that?"

"Oh, that was nothing. Wait’ll you see what’s coming."

Myra walked over and placed her gloved hand on his penis. She lifted it up, examining his balls.

"Mm. Very fine cock on this one. A shame, really."

"Yeah." Amanada chuckled. "Too bad he can’t donate it to somebody more deserving."

In a panic, George struggled against his restraints, the muscles of his arms and legs bulging. Myra smiled at him as she began to tug at his cock. That shut him up.

"Does that feel good, George? You like that?"

He squirmed as she kept tugging. She had done her little jerk off routine to countless men by now, and she knew just what it took. He was rapidly getting hard in her hands. She licked her lips and locked eyes with him.

"I’ve seen a lot of these things, but this one is a real beauty. You have to be well over seven inches. You’re more like eight, or eight and a half, maybe. Have you measured it?"

"What is this sick shit? Who are you bitches?"

Myra tugged harder and faster. He was trying not to give away how good it felt, but as Myra kept tugging his cock it was becoming more stiff and purple every moment.

"Please. Stop. Why are you doing this?"

"Would you say this is about as big as you can get, George?"

He swallowed hard, confused. She kept tugging him.

"What?"

"Your cock, silly. Is this about the biggest you can get?"

"I don’t know. I guess."

"Very good."

Myra ran her gloved fingers slowly up his shaft and began to teasingly circle the head of his cock. He looked down at it and shivered, painfully aroused despite himself.

"Take a good look at it, George," Myra said. "Memorize every little detail. Every tiny mole. Every vein."

She let go of his cock, letting it flop down against his thigh.

"Years from now, you’ll wonder if you really used to have one. Was it really this long? Was it really this thick?"

George shook his head, returned to his senses and began to frantically struggle against his restraints again.

"Listen, there are people who know I’m missing! They’ll be looking for me, right now!"

"They won’t find you," Myra said simply. "And when we’re done with you, they won’t recognize you."

George pulled against his restraints hard enough to shake the whole gurney. He was a strong one.

"You crazy bitches! I swear, when I get loose, I’m gonna kick both of your little bitch asses!"

Amanda laughed. Myra glanced over at her and grinned, pleased to see that Amanda seemed to be shaking off her funk and genuinely getting into this. The really big, butch boys were always the most fun, they brought out the best in a girl.

"We’re little bitches, Myra. That’s what George said."

"Yeah. George is angry at us. I’m afraid of the big, strong, angry man. Aren’t you afraid, Amanda?"

Amanda hugged herself, pretending to shiver.

"Oh, I’m ever so afraid, yes. However shall we protect ourselves from this big, strong, angry man?"

Myra bit her lip, looking thoughtful.

"Hmm."

Then she held up a finger, as if she’d had a brainstorm.

"Hey, I know!"

She leaned forward and put her hands on George’s thighs, sneering down at him. His cock was still swollen and dark. She batted it playfully around, like a cat with a toy.

"I know just what to do with George, Amanda. Let’s turn HIM into a little bitch, too."

George’s eyes went wide.

"What?"

"Yeah," Amanda said. "That’s an excellent idea."

Amanda bent down, reached into the cabinet beneath one of the machines and slid out a drawer full of dozens of little vials, all different colors. There were blood reds, sea greens, sky blues and many more.

"Hmm. What do you think, Myra? Blonde? Or redhead?"

"I don’t know. We do so many white girls. Why don’t we make him Asian or something, just to mix things up?"

George was looking back and forth between them, obviously struggling to believe what he was hearing.

"You’re crazy. You cunts are both crazy."

"Yeah, yeah."

Myra held up his erection so he could see it.

"Say goodbye to your precious penis, honey. Believe me, you’ll miss it, when it’s gone."

Amanda held up a green vial.

"I have a beautiful Chinese girl, here. Wanna make him Chinese?"

Myra considered. She looked at his chart.

"Well, he is a racist, it says here. Chinese could be fun. But I don’t know... I know the blonde thing is cliche, but I just kind of wanna make George a blonde. Wouldn’t he make a good blonde?"

Amanda folded her arms and looked down at him.

"I suppose. We got another guy in here at 9:30, so we better just pick something. Let’s go with blonde."

She reached into the drawer and pulled out a silver-blue vial.

"Here goes."

She popped it into a slot on one of the machines. In a moment, silver-blue fluid was coursing through the machine’s pulsing tubes.

"Please," George said. "I don’t know what you women think you’re doing..."

"We don’t THINK we’re doing anything," Myra said. "We ARE doing it. You’re going to be a beautiful blonde, George. Doesn’t that sound fun?"

Myra rolled the machine over so it was pointed at his head. She could point it anywhere at his body, but the head was obviously the scariest place. She flipped a few switches and the machine began to make a high-pitched, throbbing noise, and then it projected a beam of blue light that travelled up and down George’s body. George looked at it with horror.

"What is that thing? What does it do?"

Myra rolled her eyes.

"Jeez, we just told you about nine times, George. You’re a slow learner, huh? Your chart says you have an average IQ, but frankly I have my doubts."

George was squirming in his restraints.

"Oh, God. I’m itching all over. What the fuck is happening to me?"

Myra and Amanda exchanged a look. Amanda sighed.

"See why I get bored?"

"Just give it a second. This next part will make it all worthwhile."

Suddenly George screamed and began to convulse.

"There we go," Myra said.

George was going into spasms. As he continued to scream and twitch his flesh began to warp, pinching in and bulging out in random places, like he was a raw clay figure and invisible hands were twisting him into a new shape.

The loose flesh around his waist was squeezed down and spread around into soft padding across his hips and ass. The muscles of his shoulders lost all definition and withered away in seconds, leaving him with newly wide hips and a narrow upper body. His jawline rounded out as his stubble seemed to shave itself off. Suddenly, he looked like he was wearing makeup. Each time he blinked, his eyelashes were longer and fuller.

He howled as his penis jumped up inside of him like a frightened rabbit fleeing into its hole, and then there was a wet, ripping sound as a little split formed between George’s balls. Myra bit her lip. She never got tired of hearing a man grow a vagina.

"Oh, my God," George said, his voice high but not yet female. "My dick... It’s..."

"Gone, yeah." Myra said. "All gone."

She watched as each of George’s testicles instantly deflated and they spread apart and flattened themselves against his crotch, forming the lips of his new, pink pussy.

George had become a large, homely, flat-chested woman. But his changes weren’t complete. He looked down at his chest and gasped.

"No! Not that! No!"

All the hair on his chest was being sucked back inside of his skin strand by strand, like a time-lapse film of chest hair growth run backwards. Then his strong pectoral muscles abruptly deflated, giving him the small, saggy, pointy breasts of an old man. An instant later they began to puff up and grow round and bouncy, as though somebody had hooked up his nipples to bicycle pumps.

Within ten seconds, his breasts were bigger than Myra’s... and Myra was a girl who never paid for drinks. As George struggled against his restraints his new boobs jiggled and sloshed against his ribs, his pink nipples stiff and pointy in the cold air of the room.

He shook all over and screamed louder than ever. He was suddenly much smaller, and his restraints were hardly holding him down anymore. Long, blond curls spilled from his scalp as his lips plumped up and his nose flattened out into a cute little button. He was shaking so much now that it was hard to see what was happening to him anymore.

He screamed one more time, a woman’s scream.

He fell back on the gurney, panting. His change was complete. He sat up slightly and looked at himself, his mouth hanging open. He was blond and baby faced, with enormous breasts, ample hips and soft and slender limbs. He had tiny hands with inch-long nails already growing from his fingertips, and his pubic hair was already shaped into a perfect heart shape.

Myra and Amanda’s boys were always pretty, but George had turned out exceptionally well.

"How..?"

George’s voice came out as a cute little squeak.

"My voice!"

"Yep." Myra began to undo his restraints. "Your voice."

"Wait."

Amanda was looking at George appraisingly.

"We haven’t done a baby job for a while. You wanna?"

Myra looked at Amanda uncertainly.

"A baby job? Really? That’s..."

"Pretty hardcore?"

Myra laughed.

"I was going to say complicated. But yeah, that’s serious stuff. Usually we save that one for the REAL assholes."

Amanda thought it over.

"OK. Not the full baby. Let’s just make him seven. Or eight."

Myra grinned.

"Six. I like six."

Amanda grinned back at her.

"Six it is."

Myra pushed away the machine that had made George a blonde, while Amanda wheeled over the largest machine in the room. It had a squeaky wheel they’d been meaning to fix forever. She adjusted a few dials.

"There. All set for six. Stand back."

Myra stepped out of the machine’s range. George looked at them both pleadingly with his new, sparkling blue eyes.

"No! Please!"

Amanda hesitated. George was crying now, tears trickling down his pretty face.

"Please, I’ll do anything! Please, don’t do this to me."

Amanda and Myra exchanged a look. Amanda smiled down at George.

"Shh. Big girls don’t cry, Georgie. You can cry in a minute, when you’re little."

Amanda fired up the machine. A blinding yellow-green light enveloped George. His huge breasts retreated into his chest, his face became even softer and more delicate. As he spoke, the pitch of his voice rose with each syllable.

"No! Make it stop! Make it stop!"

There was one last, bliding flash, and then the yellow-green beam died out and the machine went quiet. George’s was now a tiny blonde girl, and his restraints were loose enough that he could easily get up off of the table. He looked down over the side, afraid of the large drop to the floor.

He sobbed, putting one hand over his crotch and another over his chest.

"You bitches!" He looked and sounded even younger than he was. "I’ll kill you, I swear I will!"

Amanda made a face of exaggerated shock.

"Watch your language, Missy! Little ladies aren’t supposed to talk like that!"

Myra laughed. George was an adorable child, he had turned out so well.

Amanda went over and unfastened his now useless restraints. He looked up at her fearfully. She picked him up and set him gently down on the floor. He struggled to cover his naked body as he looked all around him, terrified by his new, larger world.

"Let’s get you dressed up pretty, Georgie," Amanda said. "We have a little outfit all ready for you."

Myra frowned.

"You sure we got something for a six-year-old, Amanda? We haven’t made anybody six for a while."

"I’m sure. I checked. We still got plenty of pretty outfits for girls like Georgie."

She went over to the locker in the corner, opened it up and began to look through the clothes hanging there.

"Let’s see. Hooker dresses, no. Lingerie, no. Oh, here we go."

She pulled out a very pink, very ruffled dress. It had poofy shoulders and a full skirt with crinolines. It looked like something a little girl would wear to a wedding in 1950.

"No," George said miserably. "Please, you have to be kidding."

Amanda smiled down at him.

"You wanna be even younger, Georgie? Wanna be a baby?"

He whimpered and wiped away a tear.

"No! Please, change me back into a man!"

Myra held the dress out to him.

"Unless you wanna start your whole life over as an itsy, bitsy baby girl, you’ll put on your little pink dress, right now. Understand?"

George sobbed and took the dress from her. He held it over his naked little body to cover himself, his head hung low.

Amanda bent down to talk to him and clasped her hands between her knees, like a teacher speaking to a slow child.

"Come on, Georgie. We have quotas, remember? You need to go soon, so it’s time to get dressed up pretty."

He looked down wretchedly at the dress in his hands and then held it out so he could step into it.

"Other way, Georgie. Over your little head. Don’t mess up your pretty hairdo."

He did as she said. He pulled the dress down over his shoulders and it hung loosely on his tiny frame. Amanda got down on one knee and yanked up the zipper on the back of his dress, making him jump.

"There. All zipped up."

She steered him over to a mirror.

"See what a pretty girl you are, Georgie?"

He looked at his reflection, horrorstruck. He looked away, but then he couldn’t help himself and he looked again.

"This can’t be happening. I’m not... it can’t be real."

He touched his cheeks, pulling at them like he could pull his face off like a Halloween mask. He worked his mouth and blinked his eyes at the mirror, trying to believe the cute little girl in the mirror was him.

Amanda went back over to the locker and came back with tiny pink shoes, ruffled socks and a pair of doll-sized panties. She held the panties out.

"OK, pick up your little foot so Mama can help you put on your panties."

He looked up at her incredulously.

"I can dress myself!"

"Maybe you can, now. But you won’t be able to, if we make you a baby."

His eyes went wide with fright and he stepped into the panties Amanda was holding. She slipped them up his legs and snapped them into place beneath his flouncy skirt.

"Feet up, Georgie. Time for your pretty little socks."

He looked at her hatefully as she slid the ruffled socks onto his tiny feet. Myra tried not to laugh. He really was the cutest little girl they’d ever made.

"And her shoes," Myra said. "Don’t forget her little shoes."

"Of course not. Can’t forget her little shoes."

Amanda lifted George’s feet and slid on his shoes. Then she stood up and took a few steps back to look at him. Her cheeks were pink and her neck and cleavage were shiny with perspiration.

"Curtsy for us, Georgie."

Myra looked over at Amanda, impressed. Curtsying was new, they never made a guy do that before. George looked up at her, not understanding.

"Curtsy? I don’t know..."

"Lower your head."

He did so, shivering slightly.

"Now hold the ends of your skirt in your hands, and put one foot behind the other."

His shoulders slumped. He’d obviously seen little girls do this in old movies or something, and now he was recognizing it.

"Now bend at the knees," Amanda said. "Bow for us. Like a good little girl."

"No," Myra said hastily. "Bend all the way down, onto one knee. Do a full curtsy."

George did as he was told, bending down so his skirts were spread out around his little legs. Then he rose to his feet and glared at both of them with eyes full of pure hate. The expression was hilarious on his angelic face.

"There, Georgie," Amanda said. "Now you’re a perfect little lady."

He choked back tears, looking down at his tiny, chubby hands.

"What happens to me now?"

Amanda went over and picked him up, resting him against her hip. He squirmed, obviously frightened by being so close to a suddenly gigantic woman.

"We put you right back where we found you," Amanda said. "Right back into your old life. Like this."

She played with the poofs of fabric on his shoulders. He leaned back, trying to get as far away from her as he could.

"Come on," he said. "You can’t leave me like this! It’s crazy!"

Amanda stroked his cheek, running her fingertips down his delicate neck.

"You were married, weren’t you, Georgie?"

He looked up at her desperately.

"Yes! I have a wife! And two teenage daughters!"

"Well, I guess your wife has a new little girl to raise. And your kids have a brand new little sister. Maybe you can go to school with them."

He wriggled in her arms, trying to break free.

"I won’t go to school! I’m a grown man!"

Amanda smirked and took his hand in hers. She held it up so he could see how soft and childish it was.

"You sure don’t look like a grown man, Georgie. And you don’t think like one, either. We’ve completely remade you, physically and mentally, as a six-year-old girl. You’ve forgotten all kinds of grown-up stuff you knew ten minutes ago."

He sneered at her, obviously thinking that she was lying.

"Don’t be stupid."

"Really? Who was the first president of the United States?"

He rolled his eyes.

"Well, of course, it was..."

Suddenly he looked horrified.

"It was... the... tall man! With the beard! Abe... Um... That guy, you know! With the big hat!"

Myra laughed.

"You’re only off by a century, sweetheart. Don’t worry, you’ll learn all that stuff again. You’ll learn history, math. Spelling. Everything a little girl needs to know."

Amanda set him back down on the floor. He stared off into space, too stunned to speak or listen. It was no fun when they went into shock, they’d just clam up. But Myra knew just the thing to shake him out of it.

"You’ll love school. I bet a little cutie like you will have lots of boyfriends."

He blinked and looked up at her.

"Boyfriends? What are you talking about."

Myra put her hand on Amanda’s shoulder, signalling that she could have this one. This had always been Amanda’s favorite part.

"You like boys now," Amanda said with a sweet smile. "You’re a girl, and you like boys."

George’s little face went red. He balled his fists and stamped his feet.

"Shut up! You’re both stupid liars! Even if you made me look like a girl, I’m still a man inside! I’m not a kid, and I’m not a girl, and I don’t like boys! I don’t, I don’t, I don’t! And you can’t make me!"

The door opened and Anna entered while George was still furiously hopping up and down. Anna stood over him, her hands on her hips.

"Well, I see we have a bad little girl throwing a tantrum. Does somebody need a spanking?"

George gasped and looked up at her with wide, terrified eyes.

"Oh, we’ve had enough fun with little Georgie for now," Myra said. "Just finish getting her ready for transport, and then ship her back home to start her new life."

"Will do, chief."

Anna bent down and picked up George. He hung limp in her arms, like a sack of potatoes.

"Goodness. She’s heavier than she looks!"

"Rest her against your hip," Amanda said helpfully. "And put your hand under her bottom to support her weight."

Anna did so, and then she grinned at George and pinched his nose, holding up her closed hand for him to see.

"Who’s got your nose? Auntie Anna has your nose!"

George looked indignant.

"You don’t got my nose!" He didn’t sound entirely convinced. "Stop being stupid! You don’t got it! That’s baby stuff!"

He glanced around, trying to look like he wasn’t worried. Then he touched his nose to make sure it was still there. The girls all laughed, and George slumped in Anna’s arms, scowling.

"I knew you didn’t have it," he whined. "I knew. My nose was just itchy. I wasn’t scared."

Anna reached for his nose again. He swatted her hand away and put his hand over his nose, looking absolutely terrified. Anna giggled and kissed the top of his head.

"Who is the prettiest little princess ever? YOU are! That’s right!"

He flinched, looking away.

"I’ll get you bitches," he said in his little girl squeak. "I’ll call the cops, and they’ll bust in here and arrest all of you! Then you’ll be sorry for doing all this bad stuff, and being so mean to me! You think I’m just a little girl now, but I’m not! I’m a man, and I’ll get you!"

Amanda turned back to her instruments, getting them ready for the next guy.

"Yeah," she said over her shoulder, "good luck with that, small fry."

Myra laughed. Amanda was just on fire this morning, it was great to see.

Anna began to carry George out.

"Let me go, you big, dumb bitch! I can walk by myself!"

Anna chuckled and kept walking.

"Uh-huh. Do you prefer Georgia, or Georgette?"

As soon as the door closed, Myra and Amanda collapsed into long, loud laughter. Finally, Myra put her arm around Amanda.

"There, see? How fun was that?"

Amanda wiped a happy tear from her eye.

"That was pretty awesome, I’ll admit it."

"You actually made him CURTSY! God, you’re a sick bitch."

Amanda shrugged.

"It just came to me. How cute was he, though?"

"Oh, I know! I wanted to dress him up in different outfits, and put him on a shelf. I wish we could’ve kept him."

"Yeah." Amanda sighed. "Maybe we could talk them into letting us keep one, sometime. Like one of the really BAD ones, some guy who was a rapist and stuff. We could all take care of him, he’d be like a pet or a mascot or something around here."

Myra shook her head, laughing.

"OK, now you’re even scaring ME."

"What? That doesn’t sound cute? We could dress him up in little outfits every day."

They heard the squeak of another gurney coming up the hall.

"Oh, shit!"

Amanda folded her arms and turned sideways, gesturing for Myra to stand with her.

"Come on! Bad girl pose!"

Myra smiled. The two women stood back to back, their arms folded, looking as cruel and sexy as they could manage. It was going to be another long but rewarding day.

 


 

End Chapter 1

The Bad Girl Pose

by: Anonymous | Complete Story | Last updated Jul 31, 2008

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