The mule 14

"Wow, it's so beautiful here!" Emiliana exclaimed with delight, her gaze sweeping over to a seemingly cheerful Ethan. "Remember how we used to dream about skiing together, Penny?"

Ethan's smile, however, was merely a facade concealing the truth that Penny was a forced alter ego. Left with no alternative, Ethan endured his humiliating punishment. "Uh-huh," he responded, grinding his teeth while maintaining the charade of a smile, his eyes roaming across the breathtaking winter landscape that enveloped them.

The idea of taking Emiliana to a ski resort, a place his parents often took him during his childhood, had been a topic of conversation years ago. At that time, he had envisioned dazzling the sexy Mexican girl with his prowess as they glided down the slopes together. Now, clad in a vivid pink snowsuit and waddling along like a bimbofied ski bunny, he realized the only individuals he'd be impressing were the numerous men who couldn't seem to tear their eyes away from his surgically altered hourglass figure.

"Well, I've been practising," Emiliana shared enthusiastically. "I recall you boasting about your skills, and I didn't want to embarrass myself." Unsure of where Emiliana was headed with her tale, Ethan chose to remain silent.

"I’m most likely still not as good as you, given your years of experience," she continued as a playful grin crossed her face. "But just for fun, I thought we could have a little competition. The last one to reach the bottom of the slope must face a little penalty - winner's choice."

Ethan instinctively brought his long-nailed to cover his mouth, nearly voicing his protest before biting his tongue just in time. "That sounds like an awesome idea, Emi," he declared, inwardly wincing as he fed her the response she sought.

(See image 28)

Ethan knew he was destined for defeat, but he suspected that was the entire point. With his long nails hindering his grip on the ski poles and his wobbly backside coupled with an extraordinarily heavy chest, maintaining balance on skis would be a formidable challenge. Moreover, his snow boots featured a 4-inch hidden wedge, a feature he suspected was far from standard for skiing.

"Great! I knew you’d love the idea, considering how competitive you've always been," Emiliana said, her grin broadening. A brief silence ensued as Ethan worried his strained, smiling expression might become permanently frozen in place.

"Well, what are you waiting for, girlfriend?" Emiliana called out, grabbing her skis before trudging off through the snow. "Grab your skis and let's go!"

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Ten days later, Ethan teetered on towering heels while music resonated through his ears, which felt heavier than before. Following his anticipated loss in the ski race, his penalty involved getting his ears pierced - not the worst thing ever, given the other changes his body had already been subjected to. Nonetheless, with three piercings in each ear, the lowest pair adorned with massive hoops, another fragment of his masculinity had been chipped away.

With a forced smile on his glossy red lips, Ethan swivelled his head to survey the room as the aforementioned earrings jangled noisily. Having somehow withstood the torment of the past few weeks, he was now merely a day away from the surgery he hoped would mark the beginning of the journey to reclaim his life. After all, Emiliana, as unhinged as she was, had surely had her fill of amusement.

The mere recollection of his recent actions made him shudder. He had paraded around like a living Barbie doll in the most revealing of outfits and the highest of heels, adopting a bubbly voice and embracing the imposed persona. He had visited countless bars and clubs where he was compelled to flirt and dance with other men, even sharing a kiss on the dance floor on more than one occasion at Emiliana's insistence.

Reaching down, Ethan pulled at the minuscule hem of his glittering black dress, his acrylic-coated nails gliding across his silky, pantyhose-clad thigh - a sensation that, while once utterly foreign, had become an alarmingly familiar sensation! Suddenly, in the corner of the room, he caught sight of Emiliana through his weighted lashes. Locking eyes with her, he stared, imploring her to come over with a pleading gaze and pouting lips.

(See image 29)

As Emiliana's eyes met his, the corner of her mouth lifted into a smile - a smile that filled Ethan with the hope that after everything she had subjected him to, she was about to finally deliver the news he yearned for most. As she took a step forward in her heels, Ethan held his breath. Almost as if in slow motion, she glided toward him, past the huge "Happy Birthday Penny" sign hung on the main wall of the room that evening. Ethan continued to watch her approach, trying not to dwell on the sheer mortification he had experienced all evening, being the centre of attention while all dolled up as strangers greeted him with birthday wishes, kisses, and hugs.

Pausing in front of Ethan, Emiliana's smile widened. "Hi Penny," she chimed. "Are you enjoying your party?"

"Of course, it's like super fun," Ethan responded, forcing the words through his grinning lips. "Thanks for, like, organizing all this for me, Emi."

"You're welcome, gorgeous," Emiliana replied, apparently satisfied with Ethan's answer. "But if you're having fun, why aren't you dancing? You love dancing."

Struggling to conceal the hatred he felt toward her at that moment, Ethan clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. He had been dancing for half the night in his excruciatingly painful shoes as random men pawed at his slender waist and fondled his ample backside. With his feet now numb from the pain, he could barely stand, let alone dance another song. "I'm just taking a breather," he announced in his unnaturally high forced voice. "I don't want to fall over and cause a scene."

"Oh, don't be silly, girl," Emiliana responded, laughing. "You're a pro on those stilettos, and there's a line of men waiting to dance with you. I know that hunk in the blue shirt over there has quite the crush on you. I'm sure if you play your cards right, he'll give you a birthday smooch."

Swallowing hard, Ethan felt repulsed as he glanced over to see a dark-haired man with a perfectly groomed beard wink at him. "Or I could go home and rest up for my operation tomorrow?" Ethan suggested with hope in his voice. "Surely, I shouldn't be out too late with such an early start."

"Nonsense," Emiliana countered, "It's still early. You go and have some fun with that man. You'll still get plenty of beauty sleep before your op."

"You mean it's really going ahead?" Ethan exclaimed, genuine happiness in his voice. "I'm finally going to be rid of these," he added, lifting his long-nailed hands to cradle his large breasts in a very unladylike manner.

"Why wouldn't the operation go ahead, Penny?" Emiliana asked, feigning confusion. "It's been booked for weeks. Oh, and don't look now, but you've got Mr Blue Shirt all worked up. Seems like he's got a bit of a monster down there."

Glancing at the man and noticing a bulge at the top of his pant leg, Ethan let out a small squeal before looking down at his hands cradling his breasts and releasing a louder one. In a panic, he quickly dropped his hands and lowered his head, feeling his cheeks heat up beneath the layers of makeup.

"Well, after that show, I guess you like him too," Emiliana declared gleefully. "You go and enjoy yourself, birthday girl. After all, if this is going to be your last night as Penny, you might as well go out with a bang." Laughing, Emiliana turned and walked away, leaving Ethan at the mercy of the grinning man striding over with a look of lust in his dark eyes.