It all started when old Gerry Hartigan disappeared. He was a long standing resident of Lakewood, perhaps the longest standing resident, nobody was sure. All they knew was that one-day he vanished. It appeared that he had left for his morning walk and never returned. The chief of police said that they had found a cup of tea on the sideboard, and a half-finished, cooked breakfast. A week later his final rent had been paid in full by a cheque mailed from Barbados, and a letter detailing his wish to spend the remainder of his days there. Something didn’t add up, but as he was paid up, the landlord happily put the house old Gerry had lived in for almost fifty years back on the market.

It wasn’t on the market for long. A week later, the women arrived.

Mike Wilkinson, who owned the garage in town was among the first to see them. Three beautiful women, they could have been models he thought to himself, driving through town in cherry red convertible. It seemed they had snapped the old Hartigan place up for a high price. Rumours spread like wildfire in the sleepy town of Lakewood. Some said they were millionaires wishing to retire out of the limelight. Others said they were scam artists, they’d made millions from marrying old codgers somewhere and were moving to little town to keep their heads down. There were more outlandish theories than that. Marty Jones, the newsagent, said they were businesswomen who had found oil beneath the town.  Others said they were lesbian lovers – something the young men of Lakewood were keen to believe. One thing for sure was that they kept themselves to themselves. They kept female staff in the large house who were often seen in town getting supplies. Beautiful women who were as stunning as their employers. The townsfolk of Lakewood revelled in the scandal, and the rumours continued for months – long after Mike Wilkinson disappeared.

Mike was underneath a car, fixing a fuel line when he heard the unmistakable sound of high-heeled footsteps crossing his garage floor. He turned his head and saw a pair of expensive red shoes and delicate female ankles.
“Hang on a sec, be with you in a tic”, he grunted, tightening the metallic joint he was working on.
“No problem, I’ll wait” came the reply. A well-spoken accent, educated with a hint of Eastern European. A sharpness to her consonants.

He hauled himself from underneath the car and saw the woman. She was as stunning as she had been the first time he saw here. Tall, dark hair, long lashes, a face flawless as a porcelain doll.
“You’re Mike Wilkinson, right?”
“Yes Miss. You live up on the hill don’t you? The old Hartigan place.”
A flicker of an inscrutable emotion flashed across her face, so fast Mike wondered if he had imagined it.
“That’s right Mr Wilkinson. It was a bargain. Perfect for our needs.”
“Oh, yes?” he wiped his hands on a rag. “That makes us neighbours. As close as you can get to neighbours in a town like this.”
She smiled, her teeth flawless white.
“That’s partly why I’ve come to see you. We’re having a little party this Saturday, and would like to invite you. Neighbour.”
“Sounds great, there’s not much to do here on a Saturday.” He smiled warmly, flushing a little with pride.
“Apart from go to the gym by the looks of you, “ she smirked and touched his muscular arm lightly
“Exactly.” He held her gaze, unaware he was blushing more.
“It important to me you’re there, Michael. I’ll be testing something and it would really help me if you were there. All part of the fun.”

It was only after she left, he realised he’d never asked her name.

The next week was slow. Mike’s friends were all envious that he should get an invite – an apparent date – to the house, when none of them did. Mike loved it of course. He worked out harder at the gym, all the time wondering why they had invited him – and also curious. He might find out who they were.

He took a long time to get dressed, his best jeans, his cleanest boots, even his shirt was ironed and aftershave applied. If he had known what awaited him, he would have revelled in dressing as a man for that last time. This poor village boy had no idea of what awaited him within that house. He couldn’t even comprehend the kind of people he was going to meet inside.

The sun was setting as he approached their house. Red rays warm on his back as his feet crunched up the gravel driveway. He approached the door and could hear sounds of laughter coming from within, and taking a breath, rang the doorbell.

Nothing. The music continued. Nobody had heard him. He rang again. There was a pause and the music stopped. He heard footsteps coming towards him from the other side of the door and the latch slide out of place.

The door opened slowly and a small, busty woman with bleach blonde hair looked out at him. For a second his eyes flicked over her body which was excentuated in a tight fitting cocktail dress. The girl looked at him coldly.
“Hello. I’m Mike Wilkinson, I was er.. invited.”

He expected her to greet him, but instead her demeanour cracked and burst into a giggle, her hand over her mouth. Mike was unsure how to react. Just then a voice from behind her said “Who is it Mary?”
“Some guy.” She yelled back, never breaking eye contact with Mike.
“Well get him in here!” came another voice and a sound of several female voices laughing.

Suddenly Mike felt a hand at his back – he jumped and span round – finding himself staring into the dark eyes of the tall woman with dark hair from the garage. He didn’t have time to wonder how she got there before he was escorted inside. He immediately realised it was a posh party. Jeans and a shirt wouldn’t cut it, both these women wore elegant cocktail dresses and he felt ashamed and out of place.
“Sorry, I think I under-dressed.” He muttered.

The tall woman just laughed, a cold laugh, lined with cruelty. Mike heard the door shut behind him. The decoration was rich, the corridor in which he stood was lined with thick, old books. He was shocked by the strength of the woman as he guided him towards the room at the end of the hall. A room with red walls.

And suddenly he was looking at a room of nine women, lounging on sofas, holding drinks and regarding him with amusement

Despite this, Mike decided to assert himself. “Evening ladies.”
The blonde girl squeaked “Evening gentleman.” Which prompted a wave of chuckles from the company.

He didn’t like this. There were no other men there. Nobody he knew. He had the unsettling feeling he had been set up as some sort of entertainment and didn’t like it.
“Look ladies.” He cleared his throat “I made a mistake coming here. I’d rather leave you to it…”

 But the tall woman kicked the door shut with her heel. “We wouldn’t dream of letting you leave, we insist you join the party.” She smiled again, and Mike studied her. She looked like she was in her late twenties, she had a pointed chin and high cheekbones. Dark eyes seemed to bore into him. Something cold was pushed into his hand and he looked to see a cold, clear drink, chiming with ice. The blonde girl from the door smiled as she handed it to him. The other women looked at him expectantly.

“Drink. Please.” Smiled a red haired woman lounging on a sofa. It suddenly occurred to him, that all these women were gorgeous. There was an unsaid sexuality about their body language, and Mike’s heart beat a little faster. Were they seducing him?

He took a little sip – the drink tasted cold and fruity with a sharpness to it. Delicious. He took another sip, which turned into a gulp… which led to him downing the entire drink. It was like nectar.

He felt a little more relaxed. “I’m not…I’m not dressed for a party” he said stupidly. The women all laughed, and he laughed too… but their laughter had the quality of an in joke – they were laughing at something he was unaware of.

“As you can see, he is perfect for a demonstration. A test. We thank the mother Goddess for bringing him to us tonight” whispered the tall woman. The others closed their eyes, whispering thanks.
“I hope so Agneetha.” Piped up an older woman, because if this doesn’t work, your place as our leader will be deeply in question.”
“Trust me.” Smiled the tall woman.
“What do you mean, perfect?” interrupted Mike, a little lightheaded from the drink.
“A young man, in his prime, you look after yourself I see, and it is exactly this sort of man, that we wish to use. Plus, after the test, we get to keep your house.”
“You can’t have my house!” laughed Mike, assuming it was a joke. But the tall woman was deadly serious. Fuck this, he thought.

Mike put his drink down, he decided he wanted to go. But just as he did he started to feel dizzy.

“Ahhh, the potion is working, let us enjoy seeing him – change.” The tall woman stepped back a couple of feet. “You see, boy, you’re about to learn all about womanhood.”
“W – womanhood?” he asked, puzzled and confused.
“Oh yes. Womanhood.” She touched her crotch briefly as she said it. “We know all about you, Michael. I need to show my sisters here that the plan will work – that we will rid the earth of stupid, stupid males.
His jaw hung a little slack and his scalp tingled unpleasantly. He was surrounded by deranged women. They were leering at him now and one suddenly yelled out “Look at his hair! It’s-“
“Growing yes. Growing long and beautiful.” Finished the tall woman.

Mike reached up, feeling his head – his hair was longer! Not long, but longer. Like he hadn’t cut it for a couple of months.
Just then, his whole body started to ache. “What the hell is happening to me?” he cried. He was sweating hard and in growing panic ran for the door. It was locked and the sound of female laughter greeted his attempt to escape. He felt sick and his stomach started to gurgle. He clutched it. His hair was now a couple of inches long, and his skin was tingling like it was covered in ants. Mike tried not to scream as his mind struggled to comprehend the situation, but he knew he had to be a man about it…

His attention was drawn to his arm – it was itching, he scratched it as his hair inched longer. He rolled up his sleeve and saw there was some sort of black stuff rubbing off onto his hand. He looked again and saw it was hair. Arm hair. It had just come out! He rolled up his other sleeve as saw the same. Hair coming loose – it was leaving pink, smooth skin behind on his arms. He looked up at the room of women.

“Don’t worry…” said the tall one “Girls don’t tend to be as hairy as boys – that’s all.” The hair that was sticking to his hand started to fade away – disappearing. He gasped.

I’m hallucinating…this is a dream! He thought furiously, hoping, praying it was so.

He scratched his legs too – to which the tall woman smiled. “Let’s get you out of those itchy jeans. You’re not going to fit them much longer anyway…”
She made a small gesture and pointed at him. Immediately it felt as if his clothes were on fire – he had to get them off to stop the burning. Mike physically tore his t-shirt into two pieces displaying a now hairless chest. He tugged his jeans and pants off…kicking his shoe violently off too – and within 15 seconds was naked. The burning had stopped and he was suddenly aware he was nude before all these women.

For the first time since puberty, his body was devoid of hair – save for the ever lengthening crown on his head (now touching the tops of his ears), his pubic hair and his eyebrows.

“”Why are you doing this to me?” he gasped as another fresh wave of pain in his abdomen made him double over. He started to lose height.

Inside his body he was starting to grow a womb, and fallopian tubes were sprouting on either side of it. His testosterone level began to drop as his testicles ceased production of the hormone. His athletic body was starting to lose definition on his chest now. His six pack was fading, his biceps twinging smaller and his shoulders gave a loud crack as they started to narrow. Poor Mike was being assaulted from every angle – thoughts of escape, about running were driven out by the sensation of transforming. He shut his eyes – his face now smooth of the stubble he always wore – as his pelvis started to ache.

“Look sisters… now we see the start of womanhood in earnest!” he heard distantly as his attention travelled to his leg sockets. He heard a deep crack and looking down could see the hips bones were more pronounced. He opened his mouth and silently gasped as they clicked wider. The pain made him fall to his knees.

“Oh GGOD! AGHHHH!” he screamed as his hips got wider again. His upper body was losing any work he had done in the gym now, his arms sinewy rather than muscular. He grabbed his hips – feeling how solidly wide they were and unable to stop them getting wider again. His ass was feeling numb. Swollen. He reached a shaking hand to it (a hairless hand, with growing fingernails) and felt his ass. It felt larger…he dug his nails into the flesh of each cheek, feeling smooth skin, feeling it swell more beneath his fingers. His butt was growing.  His face a picture of shock as he looked up into the eyes of the tall woman. She reached down, her hand going towards his ear and pulled a longer lock of hair gently in front of his eyes.
“That’s it, good boy… you’re becoming a girl aren’t you?”
He heard the words but didn’t comprehend them. A girl? Becoming a girl? He was changing… his heart beat harder… into a girl like them! As he knelt there from behind his ass blossomed into that of a female – pert and lifted. He still held each cheek, shocked into silence. His ass was now smooth and achingly female..

His face was starting to develop little signs of femininity now. Apart from how smooth it was, one woman pointed to his nose, saying it was smaller… his jaw was aching as it became less pronounced and that hair – his hair was now past his jawline. Dark tresses framing his face. This can’t be happening he reasoned… this can’t be happening…

Unfortunately for Mike, unnoticed by him, his nipples said otherwise. They were darkening dramatically, while milk glands started to bud beneath them. Sweat ran down his smooth, burning skin in little rivulets as he staggered to his feet – for the first time the witches could see his wide hips, his long hair – they could see the woman that was forming right in front of them. One witch burst into applause. “Make his dick shrink! Make it shrink!”

“All in good time” smiled the tall woman. Mike clamped his hands over his genitals in horror – as his body continued to slim down, he had lost almost five inches in height now – the sickness he felt was passing as his womb completed… look close and you could see the small bulge it made – the curve of his belly…

It was at this point, he started to really realise what was happening to him. He had to stop it!

“Please! Please! I don’t want to be a woman!” he gasped through gritted teeth as his shoulders cracked narrower – now thin. Elegant. Not the broad shoulders of a man in his prime. His thighs tingled as they began to swell in much the same way his butt had – and he almost toppled forward as his pelvis, now fully female, started to tilt backwards, pushing his ass out more – giving him the delightful curve of the female back. He had full, dark aureoles now – sticking out like pencil erasers – and he almost fell again as the deep sensation of new muscles forming inside his abdomen shot through him. The beginning of a cervix – pushing down to his undercarriage.

“I’ll do anything! PLEASE! DON’T MAKE ME A GIRL!” he shouted now – anger rising as they continued to watch him with detached amusement.
“Oh no?” smiled the tall woman. “I think you are a girl… shall we prove it you?”
Mike was speechless. His toes curled as his feet shuddered smaller – becoming the dainty, cute feet of a young woman. “If you’re a not a girl – why do you have, boobs?”

Feverishly, he looked down and saw he now had little conical boobs – his face creased in horror, a face that now had a pert nose, a roundness to it – long hair now shoulder length. Lips that had a natural cupid’s bow – a beestung quality to them. He pushed his tits flat… he could feel the nipples, sensitively touching his palms as he pushed as hard as he could.

In doing so however, he had stopped covering his genitals – and on revealing them heard hoots of laughter. Looking down he saw why.
His pubic hair had all but gone – all that was left was a strip – a Brazilian strip leading to his dick… like girls’ have so they can wear a bikini.

Seeing it like that, and the wider hips – and the fact his waist was narrower was the last straw. As his boobs grew a little more he broke into a run for the door. Leaping over a coffee table he felt his dick slapping his legs, his ass wiggle, his chest jiggle… and as he reached it – a horrendous feeling – a feeling he knew must happen from the start.

His dick had started to tingle. His brain screamed the truth, even if he didn’t want to hear it…

Girl…girl…they’re turning me into a girl….

He grasped the handle, and yanked as hard as he could – in his panic came an extraordinary strength, despite the fact his muscles were almost totally feminised. As he pulled the wood of the door split and he pulled the handle right out – falling hard on his back, his long hair caught beneath him.

As he lay there, the wind knocked out of him, looking at the ceiling, trying to focus, the tingling in his dick increased. He raised his head, looking past the breasts which now started to mature into pert things – they looked almost proud, quite the opposite of what he was feeling – and looked at his penis.

He didn’t expect to see he no longer had a urethra, he held his dick - the thing that defined him as a man, holding it, in those dainty hands – and saw his urethra can quite sealed up. His foreskin was now merged into the column of his dick. He had no time to wonder why – as without warning his scrotum started to tighten.

He screamed in agony as within five seconds his balls were squeezed against his body. They held out for another two seconds before one – then the other popped inside him and started to aggressively move upwards into their new positions as ovaries. He kicked a little feebly – his throat felt tight. His face now looking like a very beautiful, but frightened girl.

He was only dimly aware that the women had all gathered around him now.
“See!” crowed the tall woman, “See how his testicles have gone! He has no balls now! And now, we have the Pièce de résistance!”

Mike rolled onto all fours, trying to get up. He immediately felt the lack of weight between his legs - something he’d had his whole life, never even noticed. But now it was gone… His dick, his weird, now sealed up dick still hung there – it was tingling again, and it started to shrink within seconds.

His scrotal skin was tightening again, but now pushing back out. Swelling from within. Sadly, not the re-emergence of his testicles, rather the steady distension of a Venus mound.

“You bitches!” he cried, now left with nothing to do but yell insults… something which badly backfired as his voice cracked violently up a note as he did so. He shut his eyes and coughed… hearing his voice get higher again as his Adam’s apple cruelly atrophied.

Mike’s dick was now half it’s normal size. His face, his body, everything else was that of a very beautiful, fit young woman… and still his dick lingered, shrinking tortuously closer to the flat crotch that every female possessed.

“Get some clothes for her.” Barked the tall woman. Another women hurried off to get some.

Mike didn’t have a chance to say anything as his new labia split painlessly into two halves. His urethra now nestled in the split – he would have to sit to pee from now on.

His penis was now turning into a mere nub. It was filled with nerve endings as it made it’s way to becoming a clitoris… Mike heard his shouts for help as though it were somebody else, a girl shouting for help, somewhere in another life…

…and then he was aware the tingle had stopped. The ache of bones, and heat of change had left him.

Left her.

For as Mike struggled to her feet – naked as they say she was born, none could be in any doubt. She was a woman. A girl of maybe 20 years old. Brunette – Spanish heritage maybe. The assorted women burst into applause as Mike, knock kneed, gasped as cold air hit her vulva.

A smiling woman brought a pile of clothes.
“Here you are dear. No need to go naked.”

Like a dream Mike remembered dressing. The feel of panties as they slide up smooth legs. The way the material grips the waist. The tightness of them against that flat crotch, the feeling of protection they gave. Tights next… the silky electricity they produced…the bra…the way she felt supported now, and they way they displayed her breasts…. The dress, the way it showed off her assets, the way she checked the size of her ass in the mirror… the heels… unlike anything she had ever worn, the way it made the muscles his her legs go taught, giving them shape. Feminine shape…

She was given a drink of champagne, women toasting her, welcoming her to the world. It was a blur – and she felt a rush go to her head.

“Are you Ok – Michelle?” asked the tall woman.
“I feel… I don’t know where I am.” Mike answered.
“Why, you’re here with your friends. That’s us. Your girlfriends, remember?”
Michelle looked at the clothes on the floor, the jeans, and boots… men’s clothes… something familiar…
The tall woman smiled – “Oh we’ll tidy them away dear. Some boy came round, thought he could get all fruity. Men!”
“Yes, men.” Said Michelle vaguely. She was feeling better now. Memories coming back to her. These women, the girls, her friends…

“Well Michelle, there’s just one more thing to do.” Smiled the tall lady.
“I need to sign the house over to you.” Said Michelle, proudly smiling that she knew the answer.
“Good girl. Sign it to me. And then an early night for you, because you’ve got a big trip tomorrow haven’t you?”
“Yes!” giggles Michelle. “I’m going away!”
“And never coming back?”
“Never! Why would I, when I have a whole life waiting for me in Barbados.”
The tall woman smiled kindly. “That’s right Michelle. Barbados.”

The papers were signed, and the tall woman escorted Michelle to the door. Both women’s heels clicking on the wooden floor. Michelle stopped. She remembered something. Something told her this wasn’t right. She wasn’t meant to be here… why was she wearing a dress? She was a man! Her name was Mike!

“Is something wrong dear?” asked the tall woman.
Michelle felt the words soothe her, quickly extinguishing the fire of uncertainty. Nothing could be wrong.
“No. Just nervous about my trip. I feel a bit confused. Deja vous or something.”
“That’s fine, dear Michelle. We all feel that way sometimes. But it’s nothing sinister.”

The tall woman watched Michelle leave. Dressed in her dress, her tights rubbing together with her slightly ditzy walk. Test successful. She closed the door quietly and smiled in the dark.