A message from behind the scenes

Hello everyone, this is Nakintr. In case you guys don't know me yet, I’m the site manager as well as proofreading, formatting, and many things behind the scenes. It all began when I was so enthralled by Laristopa’s stories several years ago, and I want to give them a proper place on the internet. Hence... now we are working together, and the site is up!

For this chapter, I must say it became one of my favorite chapters since the first time Laristopa showed it to me. Big changes are coming! Hope you guys also enjoy it :)

The next few days of week five fell into a normal pattern.

In the morning, Chris would wake up (on time) using his pink phone. He’d pull out his mouth guard and gently remove his nose strip. Both items initially caused soreness in his jaw and nose, but the pain lessened by the end of the week. The soreness was still there, but it was easily manageable. He would ignore the coating of the air freshener in his throat before taking a long drink of pink water to combat his morning vertigo. His vertigo now mimicked the swirling pattern from Doctor Sapphire’s goggles. He’d exit his bed and get ready for the day, which included checking his nail polish to ensure it was up to Miss Valentine’s satisfaction and reapplying it as needed. Chris was still using purple and noticed his nails were getting longer. He considered trimming them down but stopped short. He didn’t know why, but he felt that his hands were fine the way they were. He felt confident in his nail polish and knew it would feel strange to go without. His hands were soft, supple, and free of calluses.

He only needed to shave the tiniest bit of stubble one time near the end of the week. He otherwise didn’t bother going through the motions of shaving his face. It felt like a waste of time. He thoroughly cleaned his face and applied his daily moisturizer, noticing how healthy and soft his skin had become. Not only did his skin look better, but his nose was subtly compacting, his lips were ever-so-slightly plumping, and his jaw was thinning. It was incremental, but by the end of the week Chris had definitely noticed his face looked different. He appeared to be in his twenties again!

After the bathroom activities were done, Chris would spend a few minutes picking up his bedroom before getting dressed in whatever workout clothing Miss Valentine gave him. He was less than thrilled with the selection, seeing as they were always clearly female attire, but each day he reluctantly wore whatever clothing she brought. It was better than going naked! Besides, the only people there to judge him were Miss Valentine and Brad. He noticed his shoes were really starting to become too big and wondered how something like that was even possible. Could weight loss really cause body parts to shrink?

He would then head downstairs to eat his heavy breakfast and pills and then begin his exercises, which consisted of lazy upper body workouts. Chris was initially excited to be working his arms and chest, but it became clear midway through the week that Brad had no idea what he was doing and his exercise routine comprised mostly of Instagram scrolling and maintaining a pump. Chris couldn’t figure out how Brad maintained such a hulking physique. As they didn't spend much time doing actual workouts, Chris and Brad spent a lot of their time talking and getting to know one another.

After the workout, Chris would drink his slimy, salty shake and a spoonful of extra-thick peanut butter. He really started to enjoy the taste of the shake and looked forward to gulping it down. For whatever reason it made his stomach flutter with warmth, and he could feel himself craving it by the end of the workouts. With the shake consumed, he’d take a shower using Miss Valentine’s products, apply some makeup, and change his earrings. He was thoroughly convinced that he had to maintain his acquired makeup skills by practicing every day. Chris would then wear one of Miss Valentine’s outfits. Again, they were women’s clothes, but it was better than going naked.

Heading back downstairs, Chris would watch ‘Project Runway’ while wearing his flowery headphones, falling asleep after an episode or two. Each day he woke up coughing from the air freshener in a puddle of sweat with weird, swirling dreams flashing through his head. The dreams stuck around in his mind longer than usual, and he found himself struggling to forget them. The woman’s voice in the back of his brain was stronger than ever, and Chris could often hear her influence. He became a secret super-fan of ‘Project Runway,’ just like he had with ‘The Bachelor,’ ‘The Bachelorette,’ ‘Sex and the City,’ and ‘Desperate Housewives.’ Brad and Miss Valentine tried to pretend like they weren’t having sex whenever he was passed out, but it was clearly happening. Chris never saw them in the act, but the living room reeked of sex, and they were out of breath and disheveled whenever he woke.

Once it was dark, Chris would groggily enter the kitchen behind Miss Valentine while sucking down a bottle of sweet water. He would eat a substantial dinner and take nighttime pills, then head upstairs to get ready for bed. This included his nightly skin care routine, makeup removal, and mouth guard + nose strip application. Chris then spent time lying in bed and playing games on his cell phone, particularly ‘Hunk Dating Sim.’ There was something about it that felt almost hypnotic, and he found himself losing chunks of time while staring at the masculine bodies of the hunks. Chris would then pass out.

Chris got along well with Brad all week. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy that wanted to hit the weights and get frisky with Miss Valentine. If anything, he was a better conversationalist than Miss Valentine, who spent the majority of her week amusing herself with Chris’ attempts to move weight. She stayed out of the boys’ way when they were exercising, but Chris noticed her smirking and giggling at him whenever he struggled. Despite working out his arms, Chris didn’t see any improvement in his ability to lift. His scrawny upper body stayed scrawny. He figured the gains were coming soon, and he just needed to stick with it. He also figured Brad’s sporadic, light workouts were contributing to the problem. For his part, Brad was encouraging and kind. He gave Chris all the time he needed and congratulated him whenever he got even the mildest of improvements. His words seemed genuine, and Chris felt his relationship with Brad growing stronger by the day.

Heavy, high-calorie meals filled Chris’ plate at every meal. He initially struggled to put down all his food, but he got used to it by the end of the week. Also, by the end of the week, he felt his body gaining some extra layers of fat. He hoped it was muscle, but a slight jiggle in his butt, hips, thighs, and chest proved otherwise. He was gaining fat in places he never traditionally carried weight before. It culminated on Saturday night when he felt his puffy chest shifting while rolling into bed. He even felt his nipples hardening while playing ‘Hunk Dating Sim.’ His penis had not gotten hard in several days, but his nipples were another story. He would never admit it, but by the end of the week, Miss Valentine’s clothing was starting to fit his body. It worried him somewhat, but Chris expected his body to go through a few more changes with the uptick in calories. He figured it would settle down relatively soon.

Chris’ voice was still high-pitched and void of bass, while his Adam’s apple was completely eliminated. He was becoming used to his new voice and hardly noticed it any longer. His silky brunette hair was down to his shoulders, and his green eyes were looking more and more normal whenever he checked a mirror. Overall, Chris was aware of his changes, but they didn’t bother him much. He rationalized everything. He could always cut his hair, his voice was on the cusp of getting fixed, and his green eyes probably looked better. The woman's voice in his head urged him to accept what was happening, and it was getting difficult to resist. Neither Brad nor Miss Valentine acknowledged any of his changes at any point.

Chris awoke on Sunday morning of week five at 7:30. He was determined to get some clothing that fit before Sylvie arrived. He spat out his mouth guard and gulped down a bottle of pink water to help his head recover from its spiral. He sighed and stared down at the pink mouth guard while testing his sore jaw and lips. It didn’t seem like Doctor Sapphire’s theory about his breathing was accurate. He was still experiencing daily bouts of vertigo, and the mouth guard felt like it didn’t fit right! He peeled the strip from his nose and scrunched his face, trying to help stretch out his nose. Every morning it felt like his nose had been compacted by the strip instead of opened for better breathing. He trusted Doctor Sapphire after Sal’s ringing endorsement, but her methods were dubious, and he was beginning to lose faith.

He slipped out of bed and made his way, naked, across the floor. His body felt so different. He was gaining weight back, but it was going to places he never expected. The way he walked had even been affected, and his expanded lower body had the tiniest sway. It felt natural, and his default walking pattern had shifted, just like the crossing of his legs while sitting. He was just doing what felt right without thinking about it. A slight jiggle in his chest prompted him to scratch at his puffy man boobs. The voice in his head was working overtime to keep him from freaking out, but even with that happening, he knew something was wrong. He had to get with Doctor Sapphire and talk about his body. Surely, there was a hormonal issue. He figured losing all the weight and eating almost nothing for a month screwed something up. It wasn’t lost on Chris that his body was taking on more feminine proportions, but it was slight, and he knew he could still get his body back to its normal shape once filming was complete—and he had his Oscar in hand, of course!

He entered the bathroom, pulled out his hoops, and conducted his daily moisturizing routine. Once complete, he brushed his teeth and combed his shoulder-length, silky brunette hair. He twisted it into a messy bun atop his head and examined his face. His big green eyes stared back. His lips looked puffy, his nose looked tiny, and his skin looked immaculate. He knew he didn’t even have the face of Chris Evans in his late twenties. He looked like a completely different person.

Chris shifted his face back and forth, marveling as the young person in the mirror followed his movements. He ran through an old acting exercise, rapidly cycling through six different emotions. His altered face went through the exercise flawlessly, though he didn’t see a single inkling of his old self projecting through. It was unsettling to say the least, and his gaze shifted to his itchy, jiggly torso. He was still skinny, and his bone structure was visibly narrower. However, the weight that had been gained focused almost entirely on his man boobs. He flicked his puffy chest and winced as a tingling sensitivity shot up his spine.

He ignored the tingling and attached his diamond studs to his earlobes.

He checked his silky hands and examined his longer, painted nails.

He then shifted his hands downward and felt his fat-enhanced hips and butt. His sad, floppy penis and shriveled balls dangled uselessly between his subtly thickened thighs.

With his bathroom routine complete, Chris walked back to his bedroom and took a minute to tidy it up while tugging at his messy bun and letting his hair flow freely again. He pulled on Miss Valentine’s latest outfit and shook his head. He was SO ready to get his own clothes. The plunging V-neck, short-sleeve white t-shirt bared the sides of his man boobs, while a pair of baggy, light pink shorts flared widely around his hips. It gave the illusion that his hips were bigger than they were. He considered wearing the frilly boy shorts she provided but decided against it. He preferred to go commando as opposed to sliding women’s underwear up his legs! With his shoulder-length hair falling to his shoulders, his earrings, his outfit, and his newly changed body proportions, Chris knew he must have looked quite feminine.

He sighed and slipped his gigantic shoes onto his painted feet. They looked ridiculous on his body, but he didn’t have any other options. He was excited to get out of the house and finally fix his clothing issue. Looking down at his feet, Chris decided new shoes were a priority as well.

He grabbed his pink cell phone and made his way down the stairs, careful not to trip on his ill-fitting shoes. Making his way into the kitchen, Chris retrieved his breakfast and pulled off the aluminum foil cover. It was another hearty meal!

He slowly devoured the plate's contents, careful not to embarrass himself. There was nobody to see him, but Chris took small bites and chewed with his mouth closed as if there was somebody judging him nearby. He struggled but eventually finished every last bite. He took a deep breath and rubbed his full, flat stomach. Next were his pills. He glanced down into the cup at the collection of unmarked supplements. Did he trust Miss Valentine? The production? Were these supplements the cause of his hormonal problems? He made a mental reminder to ask Doctor Sapphire before dumping the pills into his mouth and washing them down with pink water. If he couldn’t trust Miss Valentine and Doctor Sapphire, who could he trust? Even Sal had vouched for them! The sweetness of the water didn’t even register to Chris anymore.

He retrieved his wallet from the cabinet and slipped it into his pocket. The wallet bulged in the shorts and looked silly. The shorts were clearly not meant to hold a man’s wallet. Chris solved his problem and procured his license and his trusty Amex Platinum credit card. He left the cumbersome wallet in the cabinet.

He looked down at his license.

California DRIVER LICENSE
DL E25477853
LN EVANS
FN CHRISTOPHER ROBERT
AGE 44
SEX M
HGT 6'3
WGT 230 lb
EYES BLU
HAIR BRN

He saw his smiling, masculine face in the picture. He’d have to be careful displaying this until production was over because he looked a little...different.

He placed both cards into his pocket and noticed they didn’t leave a bulge. Satisfied, he made his way to the front door. He pulled it open and was met by wonderful sunshine and cool air. He had to make the walk to the clothing store and back before Sylvie arrived at 10:00. Hopefully he could get the clothing delivered, but at worst he could fill a bag or two and carry them home. Either way, he had a little less than an hour and a half to make the 2.5-mile trek each way. A brief consideration to wear Miss Valentine’s mask crossed Chris’ mind, but he brushed it away. Walking five miles in the mask didn’t sound enjoyable, and he knew he didn’t exactly need to worry about people recognizing him any longer. He elected to keep his door unlocked because he didn’t want to bring his keys. He figured it wouldn’t be a problem; what were the odds of somebody coming over?

Chris started down the driveway, unconsciously swaying his hips but struggling mightily with his shoes. Had they somehow gotten bigger? He was practically slipping out of them and tripping every couple of steps. His ill-fitting shoes significantly hampered his ability to walk quickly, and Chris found himself checking his phone nervously. He remembered how angry Miss Valentine got anytime he didn’t follow the rules. Considering Miss Valentine’s anger when he didn’t wear Sylvie’s apron, Chris was positive being late would be a million times worse.

When he made it from his residential street onto the sidewalk, Chris decided to remove his shoes and walk barefoot. He had to go faster if he was going to make it back on time! His smooth, painted toenails gleamed in the sun. His feet looked smaller than he remembered.

Unfortunately, his silky, callus-free feet did not like the rough sidewalk. Chris howled in pain and nearly toppled over from stepping on a rock. He let out a high-pitched, frustrated grunt as he dropped his expensive workout shoes to the sidewalk. Barefoot was not the play!

“Do you need some new shoes, miss?” A kind, male voice sounded from the nearby sidewalk vendor.

Chris turned his attention from his own shoes and saw a wall of flip-flops.

Chris zeroed in on the smiling vendor, and his eyes narrowed. He growled back in his feminine voice, “I’m not a girl, okay? I’m a fucking Hollywood actor.”

The man’s shoulders snapped back, and he stuttered awkwardly, “M-my apologies, sir. It’s just your clothes and your body are... I’m—I’m sorry I misgendered you, sir!”

Chris flipped his silky, shoulder-length hair behind his ears, exposing his diamond studs while unconsciously putting his painted hands on his unmanly hips and jutting them to the side. His girly tone sounded whiny and juvenile. “Yeah, you should be, asshole. How much for a pair, anyway?”

The man scrambled and grabbed a pair from the nearby bin. “These are free for you. They match your shorts, and I can’t get ‘em to sell anyway.”

Chris walked over to the man and collected the shoes. He couldn’t help but notice the man was staring at his partially exposed man boobs like a creep. Chris stared at the shoes and scoffed.

There was no way he was going to wear these! They may have matched his shorts, but he wasn’t going to stoop this low! As he opened his mouth to complain, Chris heard a commotion behind him. He turned to see a man wearing all black sprinting down the sidewalk. Chris didn’t react at first, not recognizing what he was witnessing until he saw his shoes were gone. That man stole his tennis shoes!

Chris yelled “Hey!” and started to run after the thief only to stop as his creamy feet were exposed to the dilapidated sidewalk and his puffy chest was swaying uncomfortably in his top. He slipped the pink ‘Wifey’ flip-flops onto his feet and continued the pursuit. Unfortunately, Chris was nowhere near fast enough in flip-flops, and the man turned a corner and disappeared. Chris cursed into the sky. He examined his smaller feet with the purple painted nails sticking out of the pink flip-flops. They fit into the women’s flip-flops perfectly! Either these were big women’s flip-flops or his feet had gotten smaller. He checked his pink cell phone and yelped. He was cutting it really close!

Stomping past the flip-flop stand, Chris continued towards his ultimate goal. The man yelled an apology for Chris’ stolen shoes and commented that he was glad his flip-flops fit. Chris ignored the man and swayed forward. This was the same path he had taken just a few short months ago to meet Sal at the coffee shop. This time, however, there were no women staring at him lustfully. Instead, he felt the eyes of men checking him out. He knew he should have been upset by that, but...he found himself checking the men out in return. Every hairy muscle, beard, or manly bulge drew his eyes. Chris knew he’d been caught several times by passing dudes, but they didn’t seem upset or put off by his attention. Chris’ cheeks flushed, and he felt his nipples hardening on top. He looked down and saw his nipples visibly poking out of the top and jiggling subtly with his movements.

When he made it to the clothing store, Chris pushed inside and was greeted by a smiling saleswoman.

Her voice was perky and welcoming: “Welcome, ma’am, let me know if you need anything.”

Chris glared at the woman and walked quickly to the ‘Men’s’ section. He knew he didn’t have much time, so he estimated his size by placing items against his body. He had to get the smallest sizes he could find, and even those were baggy! He was tall enough, but he had no girth to back it up, and he knew he would be swimming in whatever he picked out. Still, it was better than being naked and better than wearing Miss Valentine’s clothes! He carried a pile of men’s XXS clothing to the front counter and dropped them in front of the saleswoman.

She asked sweetly, “Find everything okay? Are these for your boyfriend?”

Chris squinted angrily and pursed his puffy lips. The woman frowned but took the hint and began ringing his items up.

Chris tapped his foot anxiously and whipped out his pink phone to check the time. He could still make it!

When she was finished, the saleswoman’s voice was sour and muted: “Your total comes to $224.89. Will that be cash or card?”

Chris retrieved the credit card from his shorts and handed it over. The saleswoman read the card and frowned.

“Do you have some ID by any chance?” She asked.

Chris rolled his eyes and handed over his ID while complaining in his high-pitched voice, “Can you hurry up? I have to be somewhere.”

The saleswoman examined the license and looked up at Chris. She scoffed, “This clearly isn’t you, miss.”

Chris’ brow furrowed, and he chirped, “Excuse me? I’m Chris fucking Evans. ‘Captain America’? Ever heard of it?”

The woman snatched Chris’s credit card and folded her arms. “Yeah, I’ve seen every Marvel movie. Chris Evans is a handsome, muscular DILF in his forties, and you’re a girl in her twenties with her tits hanging out. I’m keeping Mr. Evans’ cards so you can’t keep stealing from him. Get out of the store, bitch! You’re lucky I don’t call the police!

Taken aback, Chris snapped his painted nails towards his cards, but the saleswoman took a step back and pointed to the door.

“Get the fuck out, skank! Go steal somewhere else!”

Chris peered around and saw several people staring at him. His mind raced. What did they see? His cheeks blazed with embarrassment as he headed towards the door, his pink flip-flops smacked the floor, his hair swayed in and out of his vision, and his tits and ass bounced.

Over the loudspeaker, Chris heard the saleswoman's voice, “Please turn your attention to the girl in the pink shorts and white top running from the store with her titties hanging out. She’s a thieving bitch!”

He made it past the ‘men’s’ section, noticing dozens of eyes judging him. Who wouldn’t want to catch a glimpse? He held his top closed to avoid his man boobs flopping out while his cheeks continued to blaze red hot. He wasn’t a bitch, or a thief, or a skank! He burst from the store and onto the sidewalk. Catching his breath, Chris considered storming back inside and demanding his license and credit card. He hesitated with his hand on the door handle. He couldn’t afford to have the woman call the police! How could he convince them he was really Christopher Robert Evans? He checked his phone. It was already 9:35! He had 25 minutes to make it 2.5 miles in flip-flops! He would have to find a way to get his license and credit card back later. He couldn’t be late!

Chris ran down the sidewalk. He was even more aware of his altered body when he moved quickly. He held his top closed, remembering the saleswoman’s words, and ignored the leering men along his path. Thankfully, his training with Miss Valentine seemed to pay off, as even in the flip-flops he made it home with a few minutes to spare. He was hardly even out of breath! He made it to the front door and stopped.

It was ajar.

Chris felt a spike of fear strike his heart. Did he leave the front door open by accident? Had Sylvie come early? Had his house been burglarized? His worst fears were confirmed when he carefully snuck inside and saw a muddy boot print in his foyer. He froze and listened. Silence. Tiptoeing to the kitchen, Chris saw his cabinet was open. He searched it. His wallet and keys were gone! All his other credit cards, his debit card, and his social security card—all gone! He whipped out his cell phone and prepared to dial 911. He stared at the screen with ‘Emergency,’ ready to hit ‘send.’ His mind raced. Would the police believe he was Chris Evans? He didn’t even have his own license! He also didn’t look anything like himself. He recalled the saleswoman embarrassing him just a half hour prior. No, he couldn’t risk it. He’d have to just cancel his cards and request new ones. Wanting a sense of comfort and familiarity, Chris sent a quick text to Sal, who responded immediately.

someone broke into my house CHRIS
SAL What? Are you okay, kid? I’m coming over.
im ok going to check the house now CHRIS

He locked his phone and walked to the foot of the stairs. He stopped and listened. Silence. He gently ascended the staircase with his pink flip-flops, listening all the way. When he reached his bedroom, Chris felt tears welling in his eyes. His drawers were pulled open. He glanced inside. All his clothing was gone! Shirts, pants, socks—even his underwear drawer was empty! Sure, he couldn’t fit in any of them right now, but he planned to get back into normal shape when filming was over! It was one thing to CHOOSE not to wear his old clothes...but another thing entirely to not have the option at all. He was stuck wearing Miss Valentine’s girly outfit! Even if he wanted to put on one of his old T-shirts, baggy as it may have been, he couldn’t!

On top of his empty dresser was an empty jewelry box.

All his watches, cufflinks, tie clips, rings, necklaces, bracelets—every piece of masculine jewelry that he’d acquired over his life had been cleaned out. There were tens of thousands of dollars worth of stuff in there! A lot of it was irreplaceable! His tears welled heavier, and he sniffled when he stepped into his closet.

His suits, his ties, his dressy attire—all gone! His shoe rack had been cleaned out too. Dress shoes, tennis shoes, boat shoes, sandals, and boots—all gone!

The only item that remained was an old pair of thick, white flip-flops left by his ex-girlfriend. Chris sank to his knees and wrapped his arms around himself. The emotion of the day hit him like a truck, and he started to sob.

He heard a sudden noise coming from the hallway. Chris sniffed heavily, faced the door, and curled up into a ball. He couldn’t stop his tears. Stepping through the threshold was Sylvie wearing a...maid dress?

She tottered over to Chris and kneeled next to him.

Her worried eyes shifted across his face as she asked him softly, “What happened, Chris? Are you okay?”

Chris proceeded to openly weep as he described his day to Sylvie. He told her about his stolen shoes, the flip-flop vendor, the saleswoman, the clothing store, and coming home to the break-in.

Sylvie wrapped her arm around Chris and rubbed his back while shushing him, “It’s okay, sweetie. You’re okay. I’m here for you.”

Chris rested his head on Sylvie’s shoulder and sniffled. He felt warmth and strength emanating from Sylvie. She was such an amazing friend! After everything that happened to him today, Sylvie was the only thing that made him feel good.

“Get away from him.” Sal coldly ordered from the threshold.

He stared Sylvie down like he would a dangerous animal.

Chris felt Sylvie’s body tense up as she retorted, “I will do no such thing. Chris needs a friend right now more than ever.” Her voice lowered, “I suggest you don’t say something out of line, Mr. Fletcher.” Her voice then lightened again, “You wouldn’t want to upset poor Chris at a time like this, would you?”

Sal’s hands were balled into fists. He was breathing heavily, and his gaze shifted to Chris, who was still sobbing into Sylvie’s shoulder. He contemplated something for several long seconds. Sylvie’s eyes were fixed on Sal. They were hateful and wild. Sal’s confidence quickly waned when he met her gaze.

His shoulders drooped, and he sighed, “I’m sorry. I was—uh—I was just trying to… to make sure my client was uninjured.” His gaze shot to the floor. “Just wanted to confirm my asset was still viable.”

Sylvie’s body relaxed as she gently rubbed Chris’ back. Her smile was wide and her voice was sickly sweet. “You see, Chris, Mr. Fletcher just sees you as a client now. It’s okay, I’ll be your friend if he doesn’t want to.”

Chris raised his bleary gaze and glanced over to a dejected Sal. He nestled closer to Sylvie and shook his head. Sal hadn’t called or texted him once! He only visited him once, too! He knows how hard Chris is struggling with all these lifestyle changes! What kind of friend would abandon him like that? Sylvie was all the comfort and friendship he needed right now.

Chris sniffled before chirping, “Get out of here, Sal—”

Sylvie interrupted, “Mr. Fletcher.”

Chris nodded and tried again, ‘Get out of here, Mr. Fletcher. If I need my agent, I’ll reach out.”

Sylvie grinned and shooed Mr. Fletcher with a flick of her wrist. Mr. Fletcher wiped a tear from his wrinkled eye before turning and heading down the staircase, defeated.

Sylvie got to her feet and gently tugged Chris, who followed suit.

She spoke up to him with sparkling eyes, “Don’t worry, Chris. I’ll be your friend, unlike that mean old Mr. Fletcher. I’ll always be here to help you.”

Chris smiled warmly. He drew a heavy breath of air freshener and thanked Sylvie in a high pitch. She was such an amazing person! It's too bad, Sal, Mr. Fletcher only cared about Chris as a client.

Sylvie clapped her hands together and motioned to her outfit. “Since we are so behind on our cleaning, I thought I’d wear something task-appropriate. We're going to catch up and clean today!”

Chris wiped his bleary eyes and inquired softly, “But Sylvie, what am I going to do about all my stolen stuff? I have to cancel all my cards and everything.”

Sylvie agreed, “Yes, let’s do that. Good idea! Why don’t you go to the bathroom and put on some makeup? That will make you feel better, won’t it?”

Chris furrowed his brow and looked down at her quizzically.

She pulled a frilly apron from her dress pocket and handed it to Chris.

When Chris’ quizzical look intensified, Sylvie put her hand up to his shoulder and cooed, “Trust me, Chris, wearing makeup and this apron will help you forget the crappy day you're having.”

She gave Chris a bottle of pink water just as he was beginning to feel swirling vertigo. He swallowed a mouthful and secured the apron around his torso. In his vulnerable state, Chris trusted Sylvie more than anybody. He had to believe she knew what she was talking about. If Sylvie told him wearing makeup and an apron would make him feel better, then he was willing to do it.

He entered the bathroom and felt relief that everything appeared intact. At least the robbers hadn’t messed with his makeup or skincare products! He gave himself a few minutes to calm down before dolling himself up. He went beyond the normal day-to-day makeup. If he was going to go for it with Sylvie, he was going to go for it. He spent almost twenty minutes getting his face covered in makeup with Sylvie’s watchful eye ensuring he was doing it properly.

Before he left, Sylvie approached and twisted his hair into a bun just like hers. Chris looked at himself. His bright green eyes popped, and his heavy makeup enhanced his femininity while suppressing any remaining masculinity. He looked like a woman.

Sylvie and Chris proceeded to clean the bedroom, the living room, the kitchen, and the foyer. They did an intensely thorough job, particularly in the living room, where the couch was covered in disgusting layers of sweat from multiple weeks of intense napping. Chris enjoyed spending time with Sylvie and felt inspired by her hard work, her positive attitude, and her conversational ability. They just had so much in common!

They talked about ‘Sex and the City,’ ‘The Bachelor,’ ‘The Bachelorette,’ ‘Project Runway,’ ‘Desperate Housewives,’ makeup, flowers, romance novels, yoga, and housekeeping. Chris was shocked at his depth of knowledge whenever Sylvie brought up a new subject. It was as if he knew things that he’d never learned. He must have picked it up somewhere in his life. However, whenever Sylvie brought up subjects such as sports, fishing, cars, hunting, and guns, Chris didn’t have much to say. It seemed that his knowledge and interest in these subjects had disappeared. It reminded him of the dead car in the garage and his lack of understanding of how to fix it. Chris shrugged it off; his interests were changing, and that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing!

During their work, Chris stopped to swallow down his shake and a spoonful of heavy peanut butter. He licked the shake clean from the cup, savoring the salty flavor. Strangely, the flavor was extra heavy on salt today, and the shake was mostly white with a tiny blue tinge from a scant blueberry flavor. Whatever the salty flavor was, Chris enjoyed it immensely and felt his nipples hardening beneath his apron.

After the shake, Sylvie turned on her laptop. A movie played on Chris’ television, and he found himself becoming transfixed. He continued his work, but his eyes were glued to the movie.

When ‘Legally Blonde’ finished, Sylvie immediately started another one.

Chris’ brain started changing rapidly. It was as if a dam of some sort broke and weeks of mental conditioning were finally breaking through.

As the day progressed, Chris found himself mirroring Sylvie’s actions. The way she gesticulated with her hands while speaking, the way she bent over to retrieve items off the floor, the way she walked, how she sat, how she laughed, and how her voice sounded and varied in pitch and intonation. Overall, Chris unconsciously adopted parts of Sylvie’s behavior. The longer he was around her and the longer he was hypnotized by the television, the more feminine he acted.

By dinner, Chris’ voice was modifying sentences to end on a higher pitch, or ‘uptalk,’ and stretching vowels in a much more feminine speech pattern. He also added words such as ‘like,’ ‘kinda,’ ‘sorta,’ and ‘you know.’ It made him sound less sure of himself, more juvenile, and more girly. He didn’t even notice it was happening, but anybody hearing his voice would assume he was undoubtedly a young woman.

When they finally finished cleaning the rooms, the house looked immaculate. At least, the rooms they had cleaned looked immaculate. Sylvie instructed Chris that he needed to spend time every day ensuring each room remained clean. Chris agreed but knew it would require him to wake up even earlier. He returned the frilly apron and made his way into the kitchen.

Sylvie followed behind Chris and asked nonchalantly as they neared the kitchen, “Pop quiz, Chris. Give me your top three adult drinks. I’m curious to see if we’re on the same wavelength.”

Chris contemplated her question for a few seconds. He hadn’t had much alcohol recently, but he knew a thing or two about drinking and his own personal preferences. It was really something because just a few weeks ago Chris would have easily answered with ‘Jack Daniels, Busch Lite, Rum & Coke,’ but he didn’t feel that way any longer. His tastes had definitely changed, and he wanted to be truthful even if some of his new preferences were a little…girly.

His newly feminized tone, word choice, and inflection chirped out, “Um, I REALLY like the cosmos you made, and maybe, like, a nice frozen margarita? Oh, and sex on the beach! So yummy, you know?”

Sylvie smirked and nodded towards Chris while answering, “I DO know, Chris! You have fantastic taste!” She then inquired again, “But what about a strong old-fashioned or a hardy beer? Do you like those?”

Chris reflexively let out an *ugh* sound and shook his head. “No, whisky is just, like, too strong for me, I think? And beer is SO boring. It’s, like, empty calories and tastes like crap.”

Sylvie’s smirk grew, and she agreed, “Of course, thanks, Chris.”

The conversation continued, and they discussed even more topics. Chris found his knowledge of girly cocktails, baking, and embroidery extensive, while his knowledge of beer, grilling, and MMA was entirely surface level. He barely knew what MMA was anymore. All the while he spoke in his newly modified, feminine voice with young female inflection and vocabulary.

His dinner was enormous!

Sylvie encouraged him to finish everything, and he somehow forced himself to do so. By the end, he was groaning and gently rubbing his taut stomach. Sylvie giggled at his display and provided him with his pills, which he downed with a swig of sweet water. Sylvie then began walking to the front door. She reminded him that Doctor Sapphire would be by on Monday to check out his itchy man boobs and discuss his hormones. Chris didn’t recall telling her about it but figured he must have done so flippantly during one of the movies.

When she was gone, Chris walked slowly up to his bedroom, admiring the clean house as he did. He felt proud to have assisted Sylvie. He felt so close to her emotionally. It was as if she were the only person that understood and cared about him. Strangely, he didn't feel any sexual attraction to Sylvie whatsoever.

Chris removed his makeup, cleaned and moisturized his face, brushed his teeth, combed his long hair, and applied his sleep mask. He then put on his breathing strip and mouth guard. He immediately felt the items altering his face. He would have to remember to ask Doctor Sapphire about these items. He was still having vertigo in the morning and didn’t feel like his sleep was improving at all. He removed his stinky clothing and kicked off his ‘Wifey’ flip-flops. He would have to explain to Miss Valentine what had occurred. Surely she didn’t want him working out in flip-flops!

Chris slid into bed and pulled out his phone. He booted up ‘Hunk Dating Sim’ and saw a new game advertised in the corner. The picture showed a thick, veiny penis and appeared to be called ‘Big Cock Mansion.’ Chris ignored the ad. Why would they shove such a vulgar title in his face? He wasn’t some sort of homosexual! Despite that, Chris couldn’t help but eye the ad curiously throughout his ‘Hunk Dating Sim’ session. Would it really hurt to click on the ad and see what the new game looked like? Not that he was interested in men, but it could be good for a laugh! He clicked on ‘Big Cock Mansion,’ and it began to download immediately. For whatever reason, the game size was huge!

Overwhelming fatigue washed over Chris as he realized he had been playing 'Hunk Dating Sim' for multiple hours AND he hadn't taken a nap at all today. Chris put his phone down and fell asleep immediately.

He didn’t check his text messages, but there was one that he'd missed.

SAL Whatever you do, Kid, don’t let her in. I can't help you if you let her in.

Chris’ hypnotic, spiral dream consisted of leering, beefy men watching him sashay down the sidewalk in his pretty pink flip-flops. He spent the entire night tossing and turning with rock-hard nipples.

15. Week 5 Part 2

LARISTOPA

15. Week 5 Part 2

16. Week 6 Part 1

14. Week 5 Part 1

LARISTOPA