The mule 13

Ethan gaped at his former fiancée, shock coursing through his veins as his weary legs quivered, struggling to make sense of the bewildering scene before him. "Emiliana! What is all this?" he managed to choke out, his breaths becoming shallow and rapid.

Emiliana's eyes sparkled with mischief, a sinister grin spreading across her crimson-stained lips. "What's what, Penny?" she taunted, her voice dripping with malice. "Why don't you take a seat and tell me about your trip? I heard you went on a date with Hector. How did that go? As much as it pains me to say it, given he's my brother, I've heard he's quite the charmer."

To check that he wasn’t hallucinating, Ethan's gaze dropped to his undeniably feminine form, wrapped in its minuscule outfit. He blinked a few in disbelief as the flutter of his voluminous eyelashes sent a waft of air across his makeup-caked face. Lifting his eyes back up to meet Emiliana's, he shook his head in fury. "Have you lost your damn mind, Emiliana?" he snarled, his anger and frustration boiling over. "What have you done to me? Look at me!"

Emiliana scoffed, her head swaying in mockery. "Oh, I'm looking, darling," she retorted, her voice dripping with venom. "And I have to say, you look better than I thought you would."

Ethan's chest tightened, his breaths coming in shallow gasps as the weight of her words crashed into him like a freight train. "But why all this?" he panted, gesturing to his altered body with a hand adorned by long, flashy nails. "This is too much!"

A sly smile crept across Emiliana's lips. "Oh no, this is perfect," she countered. "Remember when you said you loved me, Ethan? Remember when you said you'd do anything for me? Then, on the first opportunity you had to prove it, you failed. Well, now you get a second chance to fulfil that promise."

"I did love you," Ethan protested, his voice wavering. "But your father wanted me to become an international drug trafficker. I had no choice but to run. I messaged you, but you never replied."

Emiliana's expression darkened. "I didn't reply because I was wandering the streets, lost and alone. When my father discovered you'd taken his money and disappeared, he turned on me. After I vouched for you and brought a thief into the family, he cast me aside like yesterday’s newspaper. I warned you about the kind of man he was, but you still chose to be with me. You promised me a new life, but instead, I lost everything."

Ethan stuttered, grasping for words. "I... I... didn't want the money! It wasn't about that!"

"Enough with the whining!" Emiliana snapped, her voice steely. "A real man would have faced his problems head-on, whatever they were. But you ran away like a frightened little girl. So, until you can prove to me that you're a man, I'll treat you exactly as you appear to be—a whimpering, privileged brat."

Ethan's eyes brimmed with fear as he watched Emiliana's lips twist into a sinister smile. "But it's not all doom and gloom. In two weeks, Penny is scheduled for a little surgery," she added, her grin widening across her stunning face.

"You mean, to get rid of these?" Ethan inquired, tentatively cupping his ample bosom, his voice lifting with a glimmer of hope.

"That’s one possibility," Emiliana responded, toying with him like a predator with its prey. "As I said, Penny is scheduled for surgery, not Ethan. From this moment on, you must convince me at all times that you are her - my ditzy roommate, utterly consumed by fashion and men. Succeed, and those watermelons on your chest will be removed. Fail, and... well, let's just say you won't like the consequences."

Ethan's mind raced, grappling with the horrifying reality of being ensnared in Emiliana's twisted game. She had the upper hand, leaving him with no other option but to comply. "What happens now?" he murmured, his head drooping in resignation.

"Tomorrow, we'll do a bit of shopping, maybe visit a cocktail bar or two," Emiliana suggested, her tone suddenly more amicable. "But first, you seem to need some rest after your journey. Your voice is entirely off, Penny. It's nowhere near as bubbly and girlish as it typically is!"

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The crunch of snow compacting beneath his high-heeled boots served as a stark reminder of Ethan's altered reality. However, as he tottered along, he tried to push aside his fears, concentrating on the one glimmer of hope he had: that if he complied with Emiliana's demands, he would soon be freed from his feminine nightmare.

(See image 26)

With his heavily made-up eyes fixed straight ahead, he avoided making eye contact with the numerous onlookers who frequently stole glances in his direction. Determined, Ethan strode toward his evening destination - a bar nestled in the heart of the bustling ski resort town.

With each careful step on the slick surface, Ethan felt his calf muscles stretch as his pantyhosed legs slid within the confines of the thigh-high boots encasing them. As much as he despised the towering footwear, they offered more warmth than the sandals he had worn upon his arrival in Aspen. The same could be said for the rest of his ensemble, purchased earlier during a shopping trip with Emiliana. Every garment seemed deliberately chosen to maximize his humiliation. The miniskirt that fluttered around his thighs barely concealed his plump, panty-clad rear, while the mesh-like top, wrapped around his enhanced chest, clearly revealed his bra beneath. The soft fur jacket draped over his shoulders couldn't even close!

But despite the litany of tribulations plaguing his existence, Ethan understood that, for the time being, the part of his mind that wanted to scream, shout, and surrender needed to be suppressed. He had already messed up once that day when he inadvertently mentioned something about Emiliana and his shared past while shopping.

"That's strike one, Penny!" she had retorted, a malevolent grin playing on her lips. "Two more, and you're out."

Standing outside the changing room of a chic downtown boutique, clad in an extravagantly feminine dress and teetering atop a pair of sparkling pink platform pumps, Ethan's heart had skipped a beat. He had grumbled about the dress, questioning where she expected him to wear such attire in snowy Aspen, and drawing a comparison to a photo he'd once seen of her at her quinceañera celebration.

(See image 27)

"Oh, like, sorry, Emi," Ethan hastily responded in his most exaggerated feminine voice, cringing inwardly. "I don't know what I was thinking. I love the dress and meant to say it would be perfect for a quinceañera party."

Seeing a smile spread across Emiliana's lips, Ethan fought the overwhelming urge to sprint across the store and punch his former fiancée right in her smug-looking face. However, with Ava still held captive god knows where and the possibility of him regaining some semblance of normalcy if he could just get through a few weeks of his ex's twisted game, Ethan mustered a smile on his glossy pink lips.

"You're a bit old for that, Penny," Emiliana remarked, maintaining her grin, clearly revelling in the feminized man's suffering. "But you're right, that dress is perfect for a party. We'll take it."