The harsh sound of the alarm jolted Alexandra awake 90 minutes earlier than usual. She groaned, realizing what lay ahead. Slowly, she rose from bed, the silky nightgown slipping from her shoulders. With a sigh, she unhooked her bra, removed the breast forms, and tossed the her panties aside. Standing naked before the mirror, the weight of her transformation settled heavily on her chest.
There was no hiding from herself now. She turned on the shower and stepped inside, letting the hot water cascade down her skin. Grabbing the Nair, Alexandra began the painstaking process of hair removal, making sure no stubble remained. She checked every inch of her body repeatedly, ensuring it was smooth, soft, and utterly hairless.
Once satisfied, she reached for the rich, rose-scented shower cream, squeezing out a generous amount and lathering it over her body. She scrubbed until her skin tingled, the sweet floral fragrance filling the steamy bathroom. She rinsed and repeated, ensuring the scent clung to every inch of her body. As the scent of roses enveloped her, she rinsed off and reached for a towel. After drying herself thoroughly, she applied a thick layer of the rose-scented body lotion, massaging it into her skin, leaving it glowing and fragrant.
Alexandra was barely done moisturizing when the bracelet lit up, displaying its inevitable command: "Time to go full circle. Wear the red blouse, red high heels, and leather-look leggings today."
She sighed. There was no escape. She opened her wardrobe and selected a matching red bra and panties set—practical, almost robotic in her actions now. Before putting on the panties, she glanced down once more at the buttplug, her stomach twisting. Sliding on the panties, she grimaced at how they clung tightly around her form, accentuating every curve. Next came the bra, and with practiced precision, she stuffed it with her breast forms until they sat naturally against her chest. The weight of them, so familiar by now, barely registered.
She slipped on black nylon socks, the smooth fabric gliding easily over her freshly shaved legs. Then came the black leather-look leggings. As always, they clung tightly, outlining her hips and thighs in ways that were both familiar and alien to her. She buttoned up the silky red blouse, the material soft against her skin. Lastly, she slipped into the same red high heels that had started this journey.
She took a breath before moving on to the most daunting part of her morning: makeup.
This was where it always became a struggle. Alexandra had never been skilled at applying makeup, but now, there was no room for error. The bracelet's instructions were clear—professional. She sat down at her vanity, surrounded by all the products she had picked up from the beauty store. A primer first, as the tutorials suggested. It smoothed out her skin, preparing it for the layers to come.
Foundation followed, but her first attempt left her skin blotchy, uneven. Frustrated, she wiped it off and started again. This time, she worked more carefully, blending the foundation until it was even and flawless. The orange corrector came next to hide the faint shadow of her beard. It took two tries to apply it properly, but eventually, it blended seamlessly into her skin, erasing any hint of masculinity around her jawline.
Next, she focused on her eyes—eyeshadow in soft shades of brown and red, applied slowly and blended until the colors looked smooth. The eyeliner was trickier; her first attempt ended up as a smudged mess. She wiped it off and tried again, this time managing a clean, sharp line that accentuated her green eyes. The waterproof mascara lengthened her lashes, giving them a dramatic, doll-like appearance.
For her lips, she carefully applied the deep, dark red lipstick. She had to redo this several times too, each mistake feeling more frustrating than the last. But finally, the bold color sat perfectly on her lips, rich and striking. She added just a hint of blush to her cheeks, completing the look with a final touch of setting powder.
After what felt like hours, Alexandra finally stepped back from the mirror to assess the result.
Her reflection was both shocking and surreal. The woman staring back at her was nothing like the man she had once been. The silky red blouse hugged her figure in all the right places, while the leather-look leggings made her legs appear long and shapely. Her red high heels clicked softly against the floor as she shifted, their height now familiar but still slightly uncomfortable.
But it was her face that truly astonished her. The makeup had worked wonders, transforming her features into something undeniably feminine. Her skin was flawless, her eyes dark and sultry, framed by thick lashes and perfectly shaped eyebrows. The bold red lipstick made her lips look fuller, sensual even. Her hair, now styled into a sleek, dark red bob, framed her face, giving her an air of sophistication and mystery.
The transformation was so thorough, so complete, that Alexandra could barely recognize herself. The man she once was seemed to have faded entirely. Now, the woman in the mirror—beautiful, bold, and utterly feminine—was the only thing that remained.
A chill ran down her spine as she realized just how far this had gone. With each step, each day, she was losing more and more of herself, becoming something else, something crafted by Mistress Evangeline's will.
With one last glance at the woman in the mirror, Alexandra grabbed her bag and headed for the door.
It was time to go to work.
YOU ARE READING
Freedom's Illusion: A Dance of Dominance
RandomAlex is bored out of his skull. He decides to do what every single guy does when he is bored, browsing the internet for porn. There he stumbles on a website that promises him some excitement. But is he ready for the "excitement" he is about to get?
