FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

FEM THEM

THE FIRST ROUND

By Hardcover

---

How I ended up on such a strange game show as the one I did is something of convoluted story, but I'll try to pare it down for you. Suffice to say, I had no idea what I was getting myself into at the time, nor what my final fate would be. It would be a complete understatement to suggest that it changed my life forever. Even now, I wonder how it all happened, how everything got so screwed up so fast. The answer of course, is simple: Money. Or rather a lack there of. I needed money, and so I didn't question it when my wife Carrie signed us up to be contestants on a strange foreign game show that I had never heard of. Of course, as it turned out, everyone was lying to me and keeping me in the dark. All I know is that as soon as I agreed to appear, my fate was sealed. Even the name of the show that I was told was a lie, but I'm getting head of myself.

I'm a journalist, and I work for Moore and Brackett Publishing, writing articles for various magazines and newspapers that they publish. I considered myself a no nonsense factual reporter, one who kept tabs on the moral fortitude of the world around me. That was my job, to scare people into seeing the world for the corrupt, dangerous place it was. If it made my readers too scared to leave their house, so be it. At least they were thinking.

But it is doubtful that you ever read or paid attention to much with byline of Peter Popovich. It's also highly doubtful that you would have paid much attention to the forty eight year old man that the name was attached to. You might have remembered my admittedly odd habit of putting lots of pepper on all my food (I love the extra kick pepper gives just about anything), but that was about it. I was tall, to be sure, an even six feet, but had a receding hairline and a rather bland face. I was in decent shape but lately had been sporting a paunch that I couldn't get rid of. I counted myself lucky that I was married to a gorgeous, slender large breasted red head named Carrie, whom I thought I could trust with my life.

Boy, was I wrong about that.

I had often wondered what I had ever done to deserve a woman like Carrie. While I wasn't much to look at, I was rather well endowed in the crotch department. I good solid eight inches or so. Weirdly, this often left me with feelings of inadequacy: I had the nagging feeling that Carrie had married my penis, and not me.

It was the money problems, and subsequent marital problems that led to my current . . . condition. I was fortunate enough to work for a boss who saw talent in my writing. Unfortunately, I had the humiliating situation of having to work for a guy who was much younger than me by a decade: My editor Taylor Aaronson, who was barely into his thirties. While Taylor saw talent in me, he was constantly pushing me to write the juicer stories that were the publisher's main bread and butter: Celebrity gossip and scandal, and exploitive topics like that. I had stubbornly refused, insisting on clinging to outdated notions of journalistic integrity, and as result, a lot of what I wrote was no longer being published. Which meant less paychecks.

Another problem was the fact that my wife came from money, and was used to certain standard of living. As the money stopped coming in she was mortified that we had to move into a much smaller house. And you can imagine how she reacted when I told her that we just might have to move to an apartment if things kept going the way they were. She was livid and enraged, and flew into a tizzy, insulting my manhood and calling me a weak loser. I knew she didn't really mean it, but it hurt hard just the same, and I began to fret that I was losing her.

Now, don't get me wrong, I know for a fact that Carrie loved me. She was really mad at the situation, and it caused her to say some really mean and cruel things. I became depressed and despondent, and horrified that Carrie would leave me.

It was that fear, along with the financial uncertainty, that led me to not question it when Carrie announced that we had been selected to be contestants in on a game show on which we could win one hundred million dollars.

I was told the show was called "The Feminine Ideal" and that it was a Japanese game show. Despite its origin in Japan, it apparently was rarely shot there and instead was shot all over the world in different countries featuring contestants of different nationalities. It wasn't shown on regular TV, but rather was broadcast to a select group of subscribers via a private network. Maybe all of that should have made me suspicious, but Carrie was so excited about the opportunity and really wanted to make her happy. It never entered my mind that Carrie might be lying to me about what I was signing on for.

And so, we met with their representatives, and blindly signed pages and pages of contracts without even really reading them. I protested this a little bit, but Carrie was very insistent that I sign them, and I felt I should trust her. In retrospect that was probably a dire mistake: As soon as I signed those papers, my fate was sealed. And there would be no turning back.

And so, we entered the small rented studio on the appointed day and were ushered into a small lounge like waiting room in the back, complete with full bar and pool table. There were a lot of girls walking around of different nationalities, mostly dressed very skimpily, and we were soon introduced to Mr. Akira Hiroshi, the host, his co-host, a lovely Japanese girl named Megumi, and a whole slew of producers. Everyone seemed to be on an informal, first name basis as they greeted us warmly and introduced us to the four other couples who would be competing on the show.

Weirdly, Akira, who spoke perfect English, seemed to talk like a game show host even when he was just chatting back stage, and I found myself wondering if he actually talked like that twenty four seven. He explained the show to us in very broad non-specific terms: There would be four other couples competing, there would be one first place winner who would receive one hundred million dollars, one second place winner who would receive fifty million dollars and a third place winner that would get twenty five million dollars. The remaining contestants would get fifteen million each, just for being on the show. My mind reeled at the amounts, how could they afford such extravagant prizes? The show would be taped in front of a live studio audience, and most peculiar of all, there would be no rehearsal. Weirdly enough, he didn't tell us what we were actually going to be doing on the show, which made me a little uneasy. For Carrie's sake, I tried to dismiss it and decided it would probably be something like the newlywed game.

We met the other couples who were competing and as we sat around talking I found that two of the other couples were in dire financial straits, and the other two were just starting out married life and really could use the money. While we talked, the girls moved around back and forth behind us, getting things ready. I became aware that they would frequently glance at us and giggle to each other, eyeing us excitedly. I began to feel that they knew something we didn't, which only added to my unease.

Of course, if I'd really been paying attention, I'd have noticed the knowing looks that kept passing between our wives.

People moved back and forth, coming around and sprucing up our clothes and hair and stuff. Strangely, all the crew for this show seemed to be women. We were all given bottled water and told to drink up, as it was important to keep our throats moist for the broadcast. This was followed by another round of that knowing giggling that made me worry even more. Especially the way the girls who were far away from us would periodically whisper to each other and look at us, dissolving into more giggles. It definitely felt like there was something they weren't telling us.

I turned to my wife, "Carrie, doesn't this seem a little weird to you."

Carrie smiled sympathetically, but it seemed a little forced, "No, it's exciting. Don't you think it's exciting, honey?"

"Well, yeah," I admitted, "But there's some things about this place that just don't seem . . . normal."

"Oh, it seems perfectly normal to me." She said, still giving me that fake smile.

"Really? Who ever heard of a show that has an all-female crew? Seriously, aside from the host and those producers, all the backstage workers are women."

"They're just being progressive, honey. Hiring more women in the workplace, that sort of thing."

"But haven't you seen how they're looking at us? It's like they know something we don't., like there's some kind of surprise waiting for us that they're not telling us about."

Carrie's smile dropped and she started to get angry, "You're just being paranoid. You said you'd do this for me. This could be our chance to solve all our problems, since you won't man up and take the jobs Aaronson offers you."

I sighed, "It's not real journalism, and it's just tabloid crap."

"Your ego is going to get us thrown out on the street!" She snapped, "If you love me like you say you do, you'll shut up and do this for me."

"I will, I will." I held my hands up, "But you have to admit this is all a little strange. I mean, who ever heard of a show that doesn't have a rehearsal?"

"We prefer a lot of spontaneity on the show." Akira said, appearing almost out of nowhere and scaring the beejeezus out of me, "Don't worry about messing up, it just ads to the realism and makes you seem more human to our viewers."

"So you see? Stop whining like a little girl." Carrie rasped sarcastically at me.

She then leaned in and whispered, "Besides, I might have let it slip to some of the girls how big your dick is. That's probably why they keep looking at you."

I shrugged, patted her on the knee, and continued drinking the water they had given me. We were given plates of small chicken strips, which were soft and juicy and looked really good. The girls then came around and assigned each of us contestant numbers. Myself and Carrie were contestants number three.

There were also condiments available and I was happy to see a large pepper shaker, which I took and sprinkled over my chicken strip.

Carrie made a face, "Jesus, Peter, do you have to pour so much pepper on everything?"

I shrugged, "I like it with a little spice."

Once the show started we could hear some of the music and applause back where we were, and little bit of the dialogue, but it was unintelligible. It was strange, I thought, that they didn't give us monitors to watch the show with. As it was, we all had no idea what we were getting into nor what was going to be expected of us. As the show progressed, the girls escorted the first couple out to the stage.

We waited and waited, but it seemed to take a long time, and again I was getting apprehensive. The first couple never came back to the waiting room, and after what seemed like a long time, the girls escorted couple number two out of the room and off to the show. Again, we waited back there a long time, but the neither set of couples returned to the waiting room. I assumed that they must still be on stage. I started to mention it to Carrie, but she shot me down with a glare. I was getting very uncomfortable and I continued sucking at the water bottle nervously.

Eventually, two of the girls came up to us and informed us we were next. Small wireless microphones were pinned to our clothes. It would be a fair understatement to say that I had butterflies in my stomach at that point. But I let them lead us out of the room and down a short hallway to a door with a pink curtain hanging in front of it. From the other side, I could hear Akira's standardized game show host voice. He seemed to be telling some kind of joke and I could hear the audience roaring with laughter.

Then I heard him say, "Alright, ladies and gentlemen, let's meet our next contestants!"

The girls pushed us forward, and we walked through the curtain and onto the game show set, Carrie first, followed by me. Stage fright gnawed at my belly as we walked out onto the platform. Megumi was standing by the entryway, presenting us the way Vanna White might have presented a new car or jet ski. She was dressed, oddly enough, as a sexy nurse. I shrugged, remembering how big the Japanese are on cosplay. As I stepped out, I got my first look at the stage area for the show. It looked more or less the way most modern games shows appeared, like Who Wants To Be A Millionaire, it was done up in way with slate grey and neon tubing everywhere that looked like the set of a sci fi show. The neon all seemed to be different shades of pink. The door we had entered in was on stage right. The stage was the usual curved deal, extra-long to make room for the camera. And it needed the space because there were a whopping six cameras filming the show, all operated by women again. Towards the back of the stage, a small series of steps let up to a platform on which five large metal arches could be seen. Each of the arches had three lights on the top of it, and led into a recessed alcove behind it. A door could be seen at the back of each alcove that was open and visible. Each arch seemed to have a large lever built into the stage right side. The first two of the arches, immediately next to us on our right, were closed by a large metal door obscuring the view inside.

I thought I could faintly make out moaning coming from inside them, but I could have been wrong.

To the left and right of the arches were two large rectangular metal frames with hot pink curtains draped all around them, hiding whatever was inside them from view. I assumed it be extra prizes like cars or boats or something that would be revealed later.

Immediately in front of us, at a slight angle, was a simple leather couch. Across from that on stage left, was a railed off area with five seats in it, looking something like a jury box. It too was facing the audience at a slight angle. I could see the first two wives that had been brought out sitting in the seats, whispering and giggling to each other.

There was no sign of the husbands.

The audience for this was a smaller crowd then for most game shows, but it was a packed house. I was surprised to notice several of my coworkers out in the front row, including my boss Taylor and his assistant Mike. They all cheered loudly when I came out on stage, and I waved to them sheepishly. It was weird, I didn't tell any of them that I was going to be on this show. Oh, well, Carrie must have told them.

Megumi spoke into her microphone, "Akira, contestants number three are Carrie and Peter Popovich. Carrie is a retired legal secretary and currently a housewife, and Peter is a journalist for Moore and Brackett Publishing."

"Everyone, let's have a round of applause for our new contestants." Akira said in fine Bob Barker tones.

As seemed to be part of the theme of the show, Akira was still wearing his suit, but had a doctor's coat over it and a stethoscope.

The audience applauded us enthusiastically, but there was also a strange amount of giggling in the crowd. It reminded me creepily of the sort of giggling the girls back stage had done, and again I was plagued by the gnawing sensation that everyone knew something about what was going to happen that I didn't. Megumi led us to the couch and we sat down. I took Carrie's hand in mine and tried to mentally steel myself for whatever was going to be happening.

At first, all that happened was a rather standard round of Q&A, with Akira asking us such usual questions as when we met, how long did we date, when we tied the knot, and how long we had been married. During the questioning, I began to notice something wrong: I was starting to get a little light headed. As the questions went on, I began to feel dizzy and slightly out of it, like I hadn't gotten enough sleep the night before. Then the questions began to steer into some odd territory.

Akira asked my wife, "Now, Carrie, would you say that your husband is very manly?"

She looked at me, grinning. There was something slightly eerie in that smile.

She replied, "Why, yes. He's very manly. He's certainly got that manly stubbornness."

She shot me a hard glance, and elbowed me in the ribs. I knew she was refereeing to my refusal to take Taylor's jobs. I sincerely hope we weren't going to get into this discussion on the show. It was Megumi who interrupted the potential game show spat. But it was with a question that made me even more uncomfortable.

"So, I hear your husband really measures up?" She asked Carrie.

As I flushed red, Carrie giggled and answered, "Oh yeah, it's more than eight inches easily."

As I felt my embarrassment rise, the audience laughed and hooted and some of the female members cheered. I looked down at the floor, not believing that Carrie was discussing the size of my dick on TV, with a total stranger. It was humiliating and I knew my face was turning a bright shade of pink.

"Oooo, this is gonna be fun!" Megumi clapped her hands together and the audience roared with laughter.

I felt like I wanted to crawl into a hole, and couldn't believe Carrie would do this to me. But then again, I didn't really know what she was capable of. Not yet, at any rate.

"So, let's begin their part of the competition, shall we?" Akira called enthusiastically, while the audience cheered.

"What are we going to be doing?" I asked nervously, drawing a glare from Carrie.

"You'll find out soon enough." Akira told me, and the audience roared with laughter, obviously knowing something I didn't.

Megumi led me towards the back of the set, up the steps and over to the third arch from stage right, where I saw two other girls dressed like sexy candy stripers, posing almost erotically on either side of the arch. They were showing a lot of leg and cleavage, and smiled at me knowingly as I approached. I was maneuvered under the arch and turned to face the audience. Megumi took up a position over on my right and Akira and Carrie were off to my left, next to an exaggeratingly large switch.

I assumed I was going to be answering questions, so I tried to clear my thoughts and focus my mind. But it wasn't working, the strange disconnectedness I had been feeling before had turning into a funny euphoria running through my brain and over my body.

"All right, now, Carrie?" Akira asked my wife, "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

She nodded enthusiastically, "I'm sure."

"Then let's get this show on the road!" He said, speaking to the audience that roared with applause.

I started to ask 'through with what?" but I was interrupted by the sounds of four small panels opening in the archway, two on either side of me. There was a loud hiss and a clang and something metallic shot form all four doors at once. I felt pressure on my wrists and ankles and realized that thick metallic manacles had locked themselves around my arms and legs. They were attached to heavy looking cables and before I could react the cables retracted, pulling my arms up over my head and my legs apart with loud whirring sound. I was held in place in an 'x' shape and struggled against the strong steel bonds, panic rising up in me. The insides of the manacles had some kind of rubber or latex padding that prevented me from cutting myself on it as I fought, but I was unimpressed by the consideration at the moment.

What the hell kind of game show was this?

Everyone looked at me, smiling with a sadistic glee. Even Carrie was grinning from ear to ear, eyeing me with a smug, self-satisfied look of arrogance.

"What the hell!" I screamed, "What's going on?"

"It's like this," Akira explained to me, "You're a reasonably manly husband."

He then turned and addressed the audience, "And what do we do to manly husbands on this show?"

The audience cheered in unison, "Fem Them!"

I felt the blood drain out of me face, "W-what the hell . . .?"

Akira spoke, "I'm afraid both ourselves and your wife haven't been totally honest with you. The show you've agreed to appear on is called Fem Them, and on this show, wives forcefully feminize their husbands till there's little left of them that's masculine. Very little, in fact. The one who becomes the cutest, sexiest, prettiest shemale wins the prize."

"What?!?" I cried, "You can't do this! You can't get away with this. I'll have an army attorneys at you for this! Let me go! Let me go, this instant! This is illegal!"

"First off, you can't afford and army of attorneys in your current financial state." Akira chuckled, "And secondly, the papers you signed to appear on this show gave us permission to do whatever we want to you. In theory, we could amputate both your limbs and castrate you and it would still be legal."

Perhaps noticing the ashen look on my face, he added, "Not that we're actually planning anything that unpleasant. In fact, it won't hurt at all. In fact, a lot of it will feel very good. Just ask Megumi, she was one of our first competitors."

"That's right, honey. See?" Megumi chirped cheerfully.

She then lifted up her skirt exposing her panties and the small bulge underneath them. The then gleefully yanked the front of her panties down, letting her small, but very obvious cock pop out in front of everyone. The audience cheered and stared. She had a cock, but just barely, it was only about three inches long, a tiny little baby cock. Her scrotum was all but invisible, her balls shriveled and practically empty, although they must have been giving her something because her small little penis was standing rock hard and at full attention. She was obviously fully functional, but her body and face were distinctly feminine, no trace of masculinity left in her at all.

"Like my cute little she cock?" Megumi winked at me, sexily.

"But, you're so pretty!" I blurted out, my head still swimming in the pleasurable euphoria despite how freaked out I was.

Megumi giggled.

Suddenly, my eyes grew wide, "Is that how small mine is going to be?"

"That's up to your wife." Akira told me.

"Carrie!" I begged her, "Please, you don't have to do this. I-I'll take the job Aaronson is offering. Please, don't do this to me."

"It's too late." She grinned at me maliciously, "We're under contract. Besides, I want to do this. I want that money, so fem up good."

"In fact, all of the crew here on Fem Them were once contestants on the show. And like I said," Akira announced in that goofy game show host voice, "It won't hurt at all."

He gestured his hands at the metal arch around me, "It's all thanks to this, The Femintron 6600. We just call it The Arch. It combines the latest cutting edge technology for feminization, age restoration, body modification, and brain washing into one high tech machine. The process which used to take months or years can now be done in an hour or more."

"Brain washing?!?" I cried in horror.

Megumi leaned in close to me, "Don't worry, you'll be very happy when it's over."

One of the cameras had moved up to get a close up shot of me from head to toe. A monitor was placed on the floor in front of me, letting me see what the camera saw. In other words, letting me see everything that was about to happen to me. I sputtered in horror, yanking at the restraints with all my might. This was impossible! They couldn't do this. No matter what papers I had signed, I was sure none of this could be legal. Except that they'd apparently been doing this for a while now, and they weren't behind bars yet. Also, it was just scientifically impossible. The kind of feminization they were talking about took years. No way could they do this to me in an hour or two. What the hell kind of process were they talking about anyways?

I tried to struggle more, but the strange dizziness and excitement had gotten more pronounced and I moved clumsily in my bonds. With a sinking feeling, I realized that the bottled water I had been given had been drugged with something. I had walked right into this trap. With a numbing horror, I remembered how the first to arches to stage right, which would have been my left, were closed up with metal doors. I felt a sinking feeling when I realized the other two husbands were in each one, and those moaning sounds I'd heard had been them undergoing whatever process I was about to.

I let out a loud scream when I saw the two other girls approaching me with large scissors. For a split second, I thought they really did mean to castrate me. I spasmed in fear, but soon saw what they were really doing: they began to cut away at my jacket and pants, snipping through the material with a practiced degree of efficiency. They pulled off my shoes and socks and then cut off my jacket and pants. One good tug relieved me of my tie and then they skillfully cut away my shirt, stripping me to nothing but my boxer shorts. Despite my rather weak struggles, they didn't cut me once. It was obvious that they had lots of practice at this.

They snipped away and made short work of my boxers, cutting them off and stripping me completely nude, exposing my naked body and genitals to the crowd and the cameras. The audience thundered with applause. I flushed red in humiliation, wishing I would just wake up and it would all be just a bad dream.

No such luck.

"Wow," Purred Megumi, looking over my penis, "It IS big! It's going to be so hot watching it shrink!"

One of the audience members shouted, "He won't have that big dick for long!"

There was much laughter. Carrie giggled gleefully. I closed my eyes and moaned in despair.

"All right!" Akira declared, "Let's get this show on the road with the first part of Pete's transformation: Body hair removal."

"Smooth! Smooth! Smooth!" The audience chanted, sounding more like an episode of Jerry Springer or Wally George then a game show.

There was a chiming sound. I noticed in the monitor that above the switch on the side of the arch, the switch in front of which Akira and Carrie now stood, there was large Plexiglas window. At the sound of the chime, similar to the one you heard on Family Feud after the phrase "Survey said", the word's "Body Hair Removal" appeared in the window.

Akira gestured towards that large lever, "Carrie, would you do the honors?"

"No! Carrie! Please! I love you, don't do this to me!" I cried, tears starting to stream down my cheeks.

"Oh put a sock in it, Pete!" Carrie hissed venomously at me.

Megumi leaned in close to my ear again, "Don't worry, you'll like it when it's all done."

She quickly jumped out of the way, along with the other two girls, giving the arch lots of clearance. Carrie grabbed the lever and pulled it down, creating an exaggerated cranking sound. There was a low humming sound and then blue lights all along the inside of the arch crackled to life with pulse of electric energy. Instantly my body began to tingle all over, the feelings covering all of my skin from head to toe. I could feel all my hair standing on end like in a room full of static, and then all my hair began to fall out en masse. Even the hair on my head and my eyebrows. I struggled weakly, but the tingling and prickling just felt so good on my skin, and the euphoric effects of whatever they put in my water didn't help either. I just twisted and groaned as all my hair floated from my skin down the floor.

It only took a few seconds, but soon all my hair was on the floor. I could see myself in the monitor, I was entirely bald and entirely hairless all over. I was completely smooth. I fought with the sudden feeling that my smoothness seemed to bring: It was somehow turning me on.

When the process was complete and the humming died down, the two candy stripers ran over with vacuum hoses and began to suck up the hairs from the floor. After a quick few minutes, they were done and moved back.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, doesn't he look all nice and smooth?" Akira addressed the crowd, "Well, now that that's done, we know what's next for our soon to be pretty girl: Body fat removal."

"Thin! Thin! Thin!" The audience cried.

With a hiss, several door opened in The Arch and long arms tipped with rectangular objects that resembled heating lamps appeared. All in all there seemed to be ten of them. They came out of The Arch and then stopped with loud clanks. The lamps seemed to be attached to long arms connected with a system of gyros that would allow them to move in any direction. I shuddered, looking at the ominous metal arms.

Akira spoke, "Most guys put on at least some weight as they get older. The devices you see around you will evaporate your body fat, while causing your skin to shrink over the affected areas. In short, thinning out your body as much as safely possible."

"You might feel some discomfort from the sensation of your skin contracting, but the process is completely painless." He slapped his own flat belly, "How do you think I stay so trim? Carrie, if you would."

Carrie pulled down the lever with a joker like grin and the arms sprang to life around me. Lights emitted from them and they moved around my form, cycling through whatever preprogramed sequence that it was running. The effects were immediate as I felt my body contract and pull tight against my small muscles. I let out a moan as I felt the belly fat I'd been trying so hard to loose simply melting away as it pulled into my body, the now hairless skin pulling tight in time with it. It was like Jenny Craig gone mad, my gut and butt slimmed down like a deflating balloon sending strange tingles of pleasure through me that I didn't want to let myself feel. The lights continued their almost hypnotic movement until not an ounce of fat was left on my body.

The lights shut off and disappeared into The Arch. I raised my head and saw myself in the monitor. I was now thin and slender, with a tiny waist and chest and long arms and legs. I looked almost like I was a teenager again. I wasn't waif thin or looking malnourished or anything like that, but I definitely had lost a tone of weight. I not only looked younger, I almost felt younger. I was quickly horrified at the way I had been almost enjoying the changes, the way they'd made me feel pleasure a small part of me was welcoming what was happening. I stared at my wife's grinning, sadistically happy face and felt the world fall out from under me.

I couldn't help it, tears began to drip from my eyes as I started to cry. How could she do this to me? I loved her so much, but here she was stealing my masculinity, hell my whole identity.

"Please, Carrie." I blubbered, "Stop this, you don't have to do this."

"Oh, quit your whining." Carrie grimaced, "There's no turning back now. Shut up and start getting pretty, I want that prize. You better fem up good."

Megumi was a little less caustic, "Don't cry, sweetie. You'll love every inch of the new you, I promise."

Akira interrupted, "Well, that looks much better, but your skin still looks pretty much like a man's. But don't you worry your pretty little head, we can fix that in a jiffy."

More arms appeared out of the arch, this time capped with three nozzles fixed in a straight line at the end of each one. I couldn't quite tell how many there were, but they surrounded me ominously on all sides. My heart hammered in my chest in a panic, looking at the nasty looking devices. More tears poured from my eyes as horror clutched at my stomach, horror at what they were going to do to me next.

Akira explained, "What we're going to do is give you a high tech scouring."

I screamed, I had no idea what he meant, but it sounded horrific.

He waved his hand, "Oh it's not as scary as all that. The first nozzle will spray you with an agent that will numb your skin. The second will burn off the top layer of skin until it reaches new skin, you won't feel a thing. The third will spray you with a healing agent to make your new skin nice and soft, and very feminine"

Megumi brushed her very soft hand on my cheek, "See? It's nothing to worry about. But I'd close my eyes if I were you."

She and the other girls took several steps back and Carrie pulled the lever again. I slammed my eyes shut and screamed in a high false eddo as the nozzles came to life with a loud, ear splitting hiss, like a hundred venous snakes poised to strike. I could feel vapor all around me, filling up The Arch as the sound of the arms moving began to join the hissing noises. And then, I felt nothing all. My entire body numbed as the arch did its work, scouring away my upper skin and gently healing the new skin beneath. I twisted and moaned, feeling lost with no sensation on the outside of my body, like I was alone in some awful abyss.

I seemed to hold that way for a long time, but just as suddenly as it had begun, the hissing stopped and I heard the arms retract into the arch. Little by little, the feeling came back to my flesh, but everything felt stronger, more intense against my new skin. Tentatively, I opened my eyes. Again, I could see myself in the monitor.

I blinked and moaned: It didn't even look like my skin anymore! The flesh covering my body was soft and smooth, and was colored a slightly pinker shade then before. It seemed to have healed instantly, and looked like this had always been the way it looked; soft, girly and very feminine. Even my cock was different, covered in the new flesh. I bit my lip, the bitter feelings still rising in my belly. How could they do this to me? How could my wife do this to me?

"Well, I'd say that's a distinct improvement." Akira said jovially, to laughter and applause from the audience.

I gritted my teeth in utter humiliation. Tears again forming in my eyes.

"And your body is delightfully sensitive now." Megumi teased, running a finger along my arm.

I gasped and twisted as I felt the tickling touch against my now highly sensitive skin, and felt a slight erotic charge at the contact, despite the situation. A small, girlish moan escaped my lips. If my hands had been free, I would have clapped them over my mouth. My body was responding to this, getting a small thrill out of the gradual loss of my manhood. What was wrong with me? How could I be enjoying this on any level?

I was distracted by another mechanical sound to my left, and turned my head to see that a wide tablet like device had come out of the wall under the lever. It was facing Carrie and Akira, tilted slightly upwards, and I couldn't see what was on it. Carrie was looking at it with a wide grin.

"For the next part, what would a girl be without her hair?" Akira announced, "We can't just leave her bald like that. Carrie, use the screen to select what kind and color hair you would like to give her."

Carrie began looking over and pressing spots on the screen in front of her. I shuddered as I realized they were already referring to me as if I was girl. I tried not to let that turn me on, but somehow it did. Carrie was gleefully selecting different parts of the screen and I gritted my teeth in anger. They were treating me like their own life sized Barbie doll. Carrie made her final selections and showed the results to Akira. Megumi had moved around behind them to see what she was doing.

"There." Carrie proclaimed, "That's the kind of hair I want her to have."

"Very nice," Akira nodded, "I think that will do well."

"Ooooo." Megumi clasped her hands together excitedly, looking directly at me, "You're going to have such beautiful hair."

I couldn't see the screen, so I had no idea what they were planning to do to me. For all I knew they could have been giving me a green Mohawk. More mechanical arms appeared, these ones smaller with what looked like a laser pointer affixed to the end of them. The switch was pulled again. The arms rapidly began moving around my head, their tips glowing a bright blue. Two of them ran across my eyebrows. There was a slight humming sound as they moved with smooth precision around me. One my head received the attention, apparently my body was to remain completely hairless and smooth.

It was over in a few seconds, and no sooner was it done then I began to feel the prickling sensation of hair starting to grow on my head again. It would have seemed unbelievable that hair could be regrown that rapidly, if it weren't for what had been already done to me. How much else could they do? Quite a lot judging from the "girls" around me. I quivered, realizing just how much power Akira and his team had over me. From what I'd seen, they could do almost anything to me. I shuddered as the fear clawed at me. Fear, and a nagging twinge of excitement in my penis that scared me more than anything else. It had to be from the drugs in my drink; that had to be why I was getting turned on.

At least, that was what I told myself.

"And now, for the most important part of the first part of your physical transformation." Akira's game show voice snapped me back to them.

"Don't you mean 'emasculation'?" Carried giggled cheerfully.

I looked at her and realized her nipples were hard and poking through her blouse. My god, Carrie was getting turned on by all this. I whimpered, my face growing hot with rage and frustration, but that was getting swallowed up by the strange euphoria, the effect of which seemed to be mounting. My head was swimming with a pleasant disorientation.

Akira waved her off, "Oh, it won't be that bad. She'll still function very well when we're done with her. Probably better than she did when she was a man."

"She was never much of a man." Carrie scoffed.

How did this happen, when did Carrie start to hate me so much. I thought I noticed Megumi roll her eyes at that one, but I couldn't be sure, but just at that time, two large robot arms came out of The Arch on either side of my hips, equipped with long frightening looking needles on the front as well as another spray nozzle just below that. I screamed and twisted in the restraints, trying to get away from them.

"I know," Akira said, "Don't they look awful? Well, don't worry, it's not going to be as painful as it looks. These needles will inject you with a small bio-compound and place them right about where a woman's ovaries would be. Once indie you, they were grow and expand to create a pair of artificial organs that will mesh with your body. These two organs will flood your system with female hormones. They will continue to give you a steady supply for the rest of your life, so no need for frequent hormone injections, and will mostly nullify your testosterone. Your balls will pretty much shrivel up and almost empty. However, the new organs will also be giving you hormones to increase your libido and keep you orgasmic, as well as to make sure that your cock, whatever size it ends up at, remember, that's up to your wife later, remains fully functional. In fact, you will be more functional with it than ever before. Megumi can cum six times or more before losing her erection."

Megumi grinned proudly, "That's right sweetie. Ironically, once your balls are almost gone, you'll be hornier and have bigger orgasms than ever before."

I wasn't sure if she was calling me or Akira 'sweetie'.

He continued, "In addition, the first stream of hormones released will also release a compound that will make the rather radical changes to your body from the hormones happen much much faster than if done the conventional way."

I didn't know whether to believe him or not. I wondered if he was just mad.

"And it won't hurt a bit," Akira assured me, "Those nozzles will spray the area with the same numbing agent as before. Mrs. Popovich, if you would?"

I tried to jerk away from the nasty looking arms but they seemed to track and follow the target parts on my body. My mind was swimming in the effects of the drug they'd put in my water, and it was hard to coordinate myself. I screamed in fear, I didn't want this, I didn't want my balls to shrink and my body to be pumped with estrogen. I twisted this way and that, but the long needles followed me. Carrie pulled the switch and with a loud his, the nozzles sprayed the anesthetic on me. I felt the front of my stomach and hips go numb again, and then there was a loud whirring noise and the needles shot forward, puncturing my skin and pushing deep into my body. I screamed and cried out while the needles shuddered, injecting me with what would become my new organs. They were only inside me for a split second before they pulled out and retracted back into the sides of The Arch.

It was done, I was going to be flooded with female hormones and I would no longer be a man. I hung limply in my restraints, tears running down my cheeks. I felt defeated and violated. As the numbness wore off speedily, I began to feel the expanding organs inside my body. I shuddered, and I could swear I felt something slightly warm rushing from the area and spreading out all over my body, but that might have just been my freaked out imagination.

"One other thing I should mention," Akira chuckled, "An additional set of organs, smaller in size will be growing right under the first ones. They will fill you with a revolutionary new serum that will reverse the aging process and slow it down from now on. You'll be quite young again quite soon."

I blinked, that seemed impossible to me. Could they really reduce someone's age? He had to be lying.

"Alright!" Akira turned to the viewers, "That concludes the first part of her physical transformation. She's well on her way to becoming a whole new girl."

The audience cheered as I drooped my head, not wanting to look at anybody. There was nothing I could do, I was trapped and would have to become whatever they wanted me to. My scalp still itched and my hair continued growing. I felt like I had a buzz cut up there right now. I heard something clack over me and felt two of the girls come up behind me on either side. I looked up and saw a thick metal ring being lowered down from The Arch. The outside of the ring had tire like grooves along it. There were four large rectangular blocks attached to it, two in the front hat sat horizontally, and two on the sides that sat vertically. The inside of the ring and the blocks had some kind of soft padding around it. There were two cables running from the back of the ring back up to the top of The Arch.

"And now, let's begin the first part of your mental transformation!" Akira announced to the cheering audience."

"Fem them! Fem them! Fem them!" The enthusiastic spectators chanted.

"Yes, sir, nothing like cutting edge brainwashing and mind altering techniques to get you to let your girl out." Akira laughed.

I cringed in horror through the mounting euphoria, remembering him talking about brainwashing before. With a start, I realized that the ring was just about the right size to fit over my head. The blocks on the front would cover my eyes, while the ones on the side would cover my ears.

"Wait! Stop!" I screamed, "No, you can't do this."

But they could. And they were going to.

The two girls gripped the ring and started sliding it over my head. I could barely fight them as my head swam in the rapture, the effects of their drugs increasing with rapidity.

As they did so, one of them whispered, "Don't bother fighting it. You'll love it in the end anyways, we all do."

The bizarre head set was slid over my head and locked into place. I was plunged completely into darkness and silence. I couldn't see or hear anything out of the head piece, I was completely isolated. I felt a vibration through the floor, and realized that must be the doors in the front of The Arch closing. Just like the two next to mine that now probably also contained contestants one and two in a similar state to mine. The euphoric high continued, getting stronger.

Suddenly, I felt something pressed to my neck and then a sharp pain. They had injected me with something, I realized with a start. I twisted around in the retraints, but felt no other presence around me. What the hell else had they just given me?

And then, suddenly, I could see. Sort of. The blocks in front of my eyes were some kind of monitor, the ones on my ears headphones. Images and sounds began to play in both. At first all I could see were vague blurry shapes and heard soft whispers, but the images quickly began to come into focus. I was like some kind of hyper realistic 3D HD, the images appeared so real they appeared to be right in front of me. No, closer than that, they felt like they were inside my head. I was seeing various images of beautiful women, astonishingly lovely and cute girls of all shapes and sizes.

And they were all shemales. I was bombarded with images of sexy tgirls lifting their skirts to expose their cocks, or of soft silk panties with the telltale bulge of an erect penis inside them. The images surrounded me, penetrated me as if it was flowing through my body. Some were naked, running their hands joyfully over their feminized bodies. All were beautiful, and all seemed so radiantly happy.

The sighs and moans of aroused women flowed from the head set, seeming to fill my mind. A soft, sexy, seductive and very hypnotic female voice began to speak.

"You are a pretty girl." It said, "You are a sexy girl. You are a slutty girl. You love your feminine body. You love being a tgirl. You love wearing pretty girly clothes, you love wearing pretty panties. You love being naked. You love to show off your body. You are very submissive. You do what you are told to. You are a slut. You are an exhibitionist. You are a shemale."

It all felt hyper real, like a laser beam printing it all directly on my brain.

More words to that effect flowed like a mantra. They seemed to flow through my brain and my body. I became aware that I was becoming very aroused, tingles of excitement running up and down my cock and through my body. Unbidden, my penis began to harden rapidly, and a small moan escaped my lips as the arousal mounted in intensity, mixing with the euphoria from earlier in a dizzying cocktail. In seconds I was fully hard, my cock quivering slightly between my legs.

"You are a pretty girl."

I began to notice more sounds buried under the others, almost subliminally. They were the sounds of girls talking, laughing and giggling. Endless examples of girly speech and sounds that seemed to be squirming around in the center of my brain. I also began aware of images that seemed to be buried in the other ones. Of t-girls explaining how to walk and how to move. And how to dress.

"You are a sexy girl."

I was being educated, I realized, taught by the machine how to look act and sound like a girl. I was being reeducated right into my neural make up. I couldn't fight it, no matter how hard I tried. The images and words surrounded me and entered me, as my body moved and writhed from the mounting pleasure that coursed through me. I could feel my mind being feminized and it only turned me on more. Moans escaped my lips as the lovely ladies danced in front of my eyes.

I gasped when I felt a soft hand touch my cock. Someone, probably one of the tgirls, began to gently and expertly masturbate me as the head set continued its mind fucking alterations of my psyche. I could feel myself start to slip away, to surrender to all this pleasure. The mysterious hand sensually stroked my stiff penis. The shemales I was seeing were all stunning, all completely feminine except for their dicks, as they moved sexily dressed in pretty dresses, lingerie, topless or just naked. Their stiff cocks popped out at every opportunity as the voice traveled through my head.

Would I be as pretty as them, I wondered. I felt a thrill at the thought, but then tried to shake it away. I was a man, I didn't want to be pretty. Did I? But the feeling rose against my will, the giddy feeling of glee that I could look as cute and as beautiful as these girls that were filling my head. Maybe I'd be prettier then Carrie? The thought made me giggle like a school girl.

"You are a slutty girl."

It seemed to take me a longer time than usual to cum, the pleasure and ecstasy flooding my body in greater amounts as the skilled hand worked it magic. When I finally did, it was like no orgasm I had ever experienced before. The pleasure started at my cock, but then radiated out in waves over my naked body. I cried out and convulsed as I ejaculated, the hand pumping every last drop out of me. The orgasm seemed to last a long time as well, finally tapering off long after I'd expelled the last drop of semen from my cock. My chest rose and fell heavily as my body twisted. I had never felt like that before, never had an orgasm that wonderful before. Was that how girls came? I had never seen Carrie react to an orgasm in any way that suggested that she'd had one that big. Was I special in that regard?

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad?

No! I was a man! This was a crime! I didn't want to be turned into a transgendered freak! I would fight this.

"You are an exhibitionist"

I would fight this . . . I would . . . I . . .

I was surprised to notice that after I came, my penis did not go soft. It remained stiff and at attention. The hand that was jerking it cleaned it off a bit, and then went right back to work as shivers and convulsions of ecstasy ran over my body. I was hornier then I had ever been, and I had never felt like this before. The slightest hint of air on my skin or bead of sweat trickling down my flesh seemed to send electric currents of pleasure through my twisting, shuddering body.

I was dizzy and delirious, I lost all track of time. My brain was filled with images and sounds, my mind felt like it was being overwritten with what poured forth from the head set. All the fight seemed to go out of me, the words and pictures seemed to ingrain themselves on me. I don't know how much time passed, but I came three more times, each orgasm just as big as the last one before it was over. I was slightly distressed to notice that on the last one, I didn't seem to spurt the way I had before. I just seemed to dribble out a little. But I was so dizzy and stoned that I didn't care much. I moaned and continued twisting in the restraints while the beautiful tgirls strutted in front of me, and the words penetrated my psyche. The strange hidden images and words from the machine taught me how to talk, how to dress, how to move and sway my hips, how to pose and even how to walk in heels.

"You are very submissive."

Finally, the images and sounds began to slow down, slowly cycling down little by little as I felt whatever they had given me begin the ebb off. My breathing was deep and I hung there, my cock still hard and stiff and showing no signs of softening. The images began to fade slowly, darkening and leaving me once more in an isolated state. Hands began to clean me off, I felt wet towels and soaps wash me thoroughly before other towels were brought to me and I was dried off.

My mind was fuzzy and it was hard to think strait. Everything the headset had shown me seemed to echo in mind, a permanent voice inside of my head. I felt hands grip the sides of the head set and it was lifted off my head. Finally, I could see and hear again. I was looking at the two closed metal doors on the front of the arch. I could hear the slight sound of applause and voices just on the outside, but I couldn't make it out.

One of the girls was standing next to me.

"Don't forget to smile, you're going back on camera, sweetie." She said.

FEM THEM WILL RETURN AFTER THESE WORDS FROM OUR SPONSORS.