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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