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Archive-name: Changes/gretchen.02
Archive-author: Amelia Allbyte
Archive-title: On Becoming Gretchen - 2


Chapter Two

"That's your side of it. But I'm not so sure that they'll believe
your story after I tell them my story, especially with this sort
of thing going on."

She dropped a newspaper in front of me. Craning my neck, I
managed to read the headlines and the first few lines of the lead
story.

"RAPIST STRIKES AGAIN," it read. "For the third time this month,
a rapist attacked a woman in an isolated home. The police are
baffled, but believe it to be the work of an itinerant worker who
has holed up somewhere since the rapes were always in conjunction
with a robbery."

It went on in the same general tone. There was even a description
given by one of the victims. Uncomfortably, I noted that it fit
me quite accurately.

"Now," said the woman, "what do you think they'll do when I turn
you in?"

I knew what they'd do and the outcome wasn't very pretty to
contemplate. I may eventually convince them that I wasn't guilty,
maybe even produce an alibi (my old landlord?), but during the
time they spent checking it out, I'd be in for a rough time, and
it would probably be for a long time.

"If I agree to do this, you won't turn me in?"

"That's right. You do as I ask and no cops."

"OK., you got a deal," I gave in.

"I'm glad to see you're reasonable. I can just imagine how the
police would question you," she responded. Then she added, "Now
that we have come to an understanding, the first thing that we're
going to have to do is to get rid of that ugly hair on your body,
arms, and legs. Since it's rather late and you need a bath
anyway, we'll just go ahead and do it tonight. We'll start your
other lessons in the morning."

"Remove my body hair? Other lessons tomorrow? What the hell is
this? I don't need all that junk just to serve a few plates."

"You just agreed to do as I asked and already you're trying to
get out of it. You will either do it my way, or I'll call the
cops. Now which do you want?"

"Alright, you win. I guess I can take anything for a day or so."

Once I agreed, she yanked the skin off me and released the leg
irons. "OK., young man, let's get going." By now I was warm and
dry and despite the humiliating method, well fed.

I struggled to my feet. "I agreed to your terms. You can take
these things off my wrists now."

"You agreed verbally. I don't know what's going on in your mind.
What you are going to be doing can be done just as well with
those things still attached. Now, move on."

I headed back to the bedroom where the bath was located, my
female guardian following, occasionally prodding me. I noticed
that she was no longer carrying the gun.

We reached the bathroom and she began applying a lotion to my
body. Starting at my forehead and working her way down to my
toes, she covered every inch of me.

It was kind of titillating, especially when she got to my groin
where she liberally applied the lotion to my cock and balls. I
began responding to the handling. In other words, I was beginning
to get a hardon.

The woman stopped, reached for long-handled bath brush, and
slapped down my erect member. It hurt! My eyes watered and all
thoughts of arousal were gone. I went completely limp.

She acted as if nothing unusual had happened, as though she
whacked erect cocks every day. She went on with her task. In a
few more minutes I was completely covered with the gooey stuff.

"Just stand there awhile and let that lotion do its work. I'll be
back when it's time to remove it." She went out, closing the door
behind her, leaving me standing there.

With no clothes and my wrists locked behind me, I wasn't going
anywhere. Besides, I heard the lock click after she left.
Apparently the door could be locked from the outside.

With nothing else to do, I stood there - and stood there.
Meanwhile, the lotion was beginning to work and my skin was
beginning to feel itchy. So I stood and waited some more.

Finally, when I felt I couldn't stand any longer and my body felt
like one big rash, the lock clicked and the woman entered. She
looked me over rather critically, ran a fingernail lightly down
my leg, examined it, and nodded in satisfaction to herself. She
started the shower, motioned for me to enter, and I did.

When I got fully wet, she started rubbing me down with the bath
brush. It was scratchy and uncomfortable. What was worse, I could
see all of my hair coming off with the brush. Now, I didn't think
I was exceptionally hairy, but I could see gobs of hair coming
off and going down the drain. Even my pubic hair was going and
the woman seemed to take a perverse delight in giving that area a
good scrubbing.

Satisfied that the hair was all removed, she motioned me out of
the shower and began rubbing me down with a big fluffy towel, and
then began applying a soft soothing lotion to my now hairless
body.

The feeling was amazing. My denuded skin seemed so much more
sensitive and delicate. I was suddenly aware of every waft of
air, of minute changes in temperature as she led me from the bath
into the bedroom.

"You look much more presentable now," she said after examining me
to make sure I was completely hairless.

"Oh, one other thing. I want you to know that the lotion has a
hair growth inhibitor in it. Your face should stay smooth for two
or three days; the rest of your body for at least a week."

"You need a name. You're fairly light complexioned and blonde.
'Gretchen' seems rather appropriate. Hello, Gretchen. You can
call me Miss Irene. Just always remember the respectful Miss."

"My name is --"

She slapped my face, hard. Then she put her hand over my mouth.
"Gretchen, I don't give a damn about what it used to be or even
what you did. As far as you and I are concerned, you have just
been born. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss Irene."

"It's kind of late," she said. I looked at the clock. It was well
after eleven and I realized that I was quite worn out.

"Tomorrow we'll start training you so that you may be a passable
maid. You may as well start getting used to feminine clothing
tonight. I'll get you a pair of panties and a bra. We'll pad it
out, and of course you will need a nightgown."

She came over and removed the handcuffs. "I guess it's all right
to remove these now. Besides, it would be difficult to dress you
while you're wearing them."

She started over toward the bureau to get the clothes. I figured
it was now or never. I had been forced to agree to her terms
under duress, which as far as I was concerned carried no
validity. I'd just beat the hell out of her, find some clothes
and get the hell out of there. I had no desire to be her maid,
and as far as I knew, she would still turn me in at the first
opportunity anyway.

Without another moment's hesitation I jumped her with the full
intention of overpowering her and leaving her manacled with her
own handcuffs.

Now, the idea may have been pretty good, but the execution left
something to be desired. As I started to jump she turned and
grabbed me by the writs and using my own momentum, slammed me to
the floor.

I staggered to my feet and before I knew what had happened, she
grabbed me by my other wrist and slammed me against the wall.
Then she lowered my head and butted me right in the gut. I
doubled over and she rabbit-punched me on the back of my neck and
my little revolt was quelled. I was licked.

"I can let you up and we can go at it again just to prove it was
no accident," she said in a conversational tone, stepping back to
give me an opportunity to rise.

I clambered to my feet, still a bit shaky. "Uh, no, thanks." I
didn't need or want any more proof. She was quicker, more agile,
and better trained than I was. At the moment, it would not have
surprised me to discover that she was stronger than I. The one
grab that I did make at her felt like I was grabbing a steel
cable. "So where's the damn clothes," I muttered.

As I was getting up, she was getting the clothes and tossing them
onto the bed. I had no trouble pulling the sleek lace panties up
into place about my waist, at least as far as slipping them on.
But the sensation was quite another matter. That smooth nylon
about my hips and the lace-trimmed elastic around my waist and
legs gave me an exotic high you wouldn't believe. The feeling was
intensified because of the increased skin sensitivity due to the
hair removal. I could feel an erection coming on - fast.

Miss Irene saw the sudden bulging at my crotch and wasn't amused.
"You will get aroused and have an erection only when I permit it.
Cease immediately."

Well, that was like telling the tide to quit coming in. There
wasn't a thing I could do about it.

My captor could do something, and did. She went back into the
bathroom and returned with the long-handled bath brush. She
positioned herself and held the bath brush like a baseball bat,
and - whack! That was all I needed. I subsided immediately.

"You may not believe it now, but that thing will become quite
obedient," she said nonchalantly, returning the brush to its
proper place. I didn't believe her. After all, that thing had a
mind of its own and would occasionally pick some of the most
embarrassing times to decide to get hard. Besides, wasn't she
going to release me in a few days, after I acted as a maid for
her little party? Or was she?

After we went through the little fracas she then brought over the
bra and helped me put it on, and then inserted the pads. Here
again, although the sensation wasn't quite as erotic as my
panties, it sure wasn't unpleasant. The tightness of the elastic
about my chest, the pull of the straps over my shoulders and the
weight of the inserts seemed very pleasant, and in an odd way
rather natural.

"You will look much better with adhered pads, or even better,
implants until you grow your own, but for now these will have to
do," she commented after viewing the completed task.

"That sounds like you want this to be permanent. I thought you
said you would let me go if I acted as your maid."

"I said I would not turn you over to the police," she retorted.
"How long I keep you depends on how you cooperate."

As she was saying this, she was handing me a peach-colored
waltz-length nylon nightgown with a gauzy overlay of lace. It had
short puffy sleeves, ending just below the shoulders. The neck
was modestly scooped and ornamented with frilly lace, the same as
the cuffs and hem.

Once again, the sensation of the dainty nylon and the frilly lace
on my denuded and sensitive body was more to be felt than
described. But this time there was no erection, or at least none
that caused a noticeable bulge in my satiny panties. I was
learning.

"Time for beddie-bye, Gretchen," she said. "Do you need to use
the bathroom before you retire? You know where it is."

I nodded and headed for it. I started to close the door when she
stopped me. "We're two girls together. We don't keep secrets from
each other. And remember, we girls sit down to pee."

I took the hint and sat. Oh, well, I thought philosophically, at
least I don't have to worry about my aim.

"And now to bed. You will soon learn that your sexual activity
will be under my direction. Therefore, to prevent you from
playing with yourself during the night, you must wear these
'chastity irons'. The chastity irons consisted of a collar locked
about the neck, and a pair of manacles attached to it by about 18
inches of chain. This device very effectively prevented my hands
from going any lower than my chest.

She led me into another bedroom. At first I thought the bed
within it was a hospital bed with side rails, but then I realized
it was built more like an oversized crib with high side rails.

I looked about, finding the bedroom unusually furnished. One side
of the room was decorated just like a nursery. There were big
murals of barnyard animals on the wall. There was a cabinet that
was stacked high with diapers and all sorts of baby powders and
lotions. Along the floor there were baby toys and other baby
things.

The other side of the room was a picture of femininity. There was
a dressing table with all sorts of cosmetics and various lotions
and powders. There was a dresser with some sort of jewelry box, a
pair of pink-shaded table lamps, and other dainty feminine
decorations.

I really didn't get a good opportunity to investigate all of the
furnishings. Miss Irene motioned toward the bed and I crawled in.
She raised the side, and then reached over and lifted up a top
cover, which she locked down in place. The crib was nothing but a
cage!

"I feel so much better knowing that you can't walk in your sleep
and possibly injure yourself. Now, go to sleep. We have a big day
tomorrow."

Leaving a little ducky night light burning, she closed the door,
leaving me alone in my cage with a little furry bear I found
laying on the pillow.

--

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