The mule 12

As a loud ringing sound bore into his blonde head, it took Ethan a moment to work out where he was. He had been lost in a dream, indulging in a decadent feast with an infinite bounty of succulent meats and mouth-watering desserts. The sudden awakening felt like a jarring intrusion.

Cautiously, Ethan extended his arm before gradually slowing his reach, mindful of the lengthy acrylic talons that impeded his hand movement. He had no desire to feel the pain they caused when knocked once again. "Hello," he whispered, lifting the receiver.

"Good morning, Miss Reyes," announced the voice on the other end. "This is your wake-up call as requested. A car will arrive in one hour to escort you to the airport. Is there anything else I can assist you with this morning?"

"No, thank you," Ethan mumbled, hanging up the phone with a heavy sigh. Cradling his head in his hands, he realized that he had once again awoken to a living nightmare.

Aware of the expectations placed upon him, Ethan carefully shifted his cumbersome frame to the edge of the bed as his ample backside and generous breasts wobbled. With a resounding grunt, he hoisted himself onto his feet and lumbered toward the shower. Although the prospect of grooming himself for the undoubtedly distressing day ahead was far from appealing, the threat that Ava would face dire consequences if he didn't comply left him feeling cornered.

Peeling off his sleepwear, Ethan entered the shower and activated the water. The warm jets provided a soothing sensation against his taut skin. Glancing down, a voluptuous feminine figure dominated his field of vision—an eerie and unsettling sight he knew he'd never get used to seeing.

Squeezing a generous dollop of shower gel from the wall-mounted dispenser, Ethan massaged the lather into his chest and emitted a faint moan from his full lips. The recent pain and stretching sensations had given way to heightened sensitivity. Despite wanting to explore these peculiar feelings further, Ethan knew he was up against the clock that morning. There was much to accomplish: washing and styling his hair and applying flawless makeup. One hour was hardly enough time, and he had been sternly warned against being late.

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"Do you have any bags to check?" the cheerful woman behind the check-in desk inquired, as a petrified Ethan stared vacantly at the wall behind her.

"Miss Reyes," the woman repeated, raising her voice slightly.

"Huh!" Ethan responded, jolted out of his stupor. "Sorry, what?"

"Do you have any bags to check?" the woman asked again, her smile vanishing.

"Erm... yes," Ethan replied, glancing down at the suitcase near his elevated feet, which had emerged from the trunk of the car that had brought him to the airport.

"Place it on the scales," the woman ordered, her tone now tinged with annoyance, as she assumed she was dealing with a scatterbrained individual.

Ethan carefully threaded his long nails through the suitcase handle and hoisted it onto the scales. Then, he shuffled back and offered a tense smile driven by sheer terror. He was about to board a flight to the United States on a counterfeit passport, disguised and masquerading as a woman, a thought that made him feel nauseous. He didn't even know his final destination!

Doing his best to avoid eye contact, Ethan squirmed within the tall wedge-heeled sandals fastened around his feet, as the straps dug into his ankles and toes. Dreading what the other passengers might be thinking, he cringed with embarrassment. With his blonde highlighted hair, strikingly made-up eyes, and glossy pink lips, he resembled a living Barbie doll—an attractive one, judging by the numerous smiles and lustful gazes he'd garnered from men during his brief walk through the terminal.

"Okay, you're all set. Have a pleasant flight, Miss Reyes," the check-in attendant said as she returned the passport Hector had given Ethan during their painfully awkward dinner the previous evening.

Clasping the passport between the claws of one hand, Ethan swiftly grasped the enclosed piece of paper and pulled it out. Inhaling deeply, he glanced at the boarding pass. "Denver!" he exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Is there a problem, miss?" the check-in lady inquired.

Realizing he had spoken too loudly and noticing a throng of people staring at him, Ethan panicked. "Erm... no," he hastily replied, bending down to pick up his handbag and feeling the taut denim material of his skirt stretch across his enlarged backside. "No, no problem," he added while straightening back up, casting a quick glance downward through his long eyelashes to ensure his ginormous breasts hadn't accidentally slipped out of his tiny spaghetti-strap top during the motion.

Spotting a sign indicating the security checkpoint, Ethan offered the woman a smile and hurried away as swiftly as his encumbering footwear allowed. He strutted across the hall with the poise of a seasoned runway model before stepping onto an escalator, his thoughts consumed by the journey ahead. "Colorado!" his bewildered mind pondered. "Why Colorado?"

(See image 24)

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After an agonizing journey, one that the feminized young man would never forget, Ethan sat motionless in the back of a car as the engine fell silent. Gazing out the window at the snow-dusted sidewalk, he shuddered at the prospect of quite literally freezing his tits off.

The skimpy outfit he had been given that morning had been nothing but trouble all day. The tiny denim skirt had been a persistent annoyance—restrictive to walk in and uncomfortable to sit in. Not only had it exposed his legs throughout the four-hour flight and the equally lengthy drive afterwards, but it was about to leave them vulnerable to the frigid landscape beyond his cosy ride. His minuscule top had been equally problematic—constantly shifting, making him think he was inadvertently revealing himself while attracting the attention of every man, woman, and child he encountered.

As the door swung open, ushering in a blast of icy wind, Ethan shuddered. He tried to concentrate on the driver's words, but his terrified mind couldn't help but wander. After remaining petrified in the seat for a few moments, the driver extended a hand.

Resigned to his fate, Ethan took a deep breath, placed his manicured fingers between those of the driver's, and allowed himself to be lifted from the car's back seat.

Struggling to find balance as the soles of his wedge heels sunk into the fresh layer of snow, Ethan gazed at the driver with pleading eyes, feeling the frigid white substance rapidly chilling his exposed toes.

"Here, let me help you with your bags, Miss Reyes," the driver declared, extending a set of keys. "These are for you."

"Wait," Ethan gasped. "What happens now?"

"Well, I suggest you get inside your new apartment and out of this cold," the driver replied with a knowing look. "You'll freeze to death out here dressed like that!"

"I... uh..." Ethan attempted to speak as he took the keys but found himself at a loss for words. The driver smiled and walked over to retrieve the mysterious suitcase from the car's trunk. Ethan observed as the man effortlessly hoisted the case, making him feel frail and powerless. Not long ago, he would have insisted on doing it himself, but teetering on six-inch wedge heels with more of his transformed body exposed than covered, the task would have been painfully awkward.

The journey to the apartment was brief, with Ethan following the man while fixating on the words 4B written on a tag attached to the keys. The thought of what he would discover behind that door filled him with apprehension.

Upon reaching the door, the man stepped aside, allowing Ethan the honour of unlocking it. His trembling fingers somehow managed to insert the key, and with a terrifying click that made Ethan gulp, the door unlocked. Taking a deep breath, Ethan opened the door and hesitantly stepped inside, revealing, to his surprise, a rather ordinary-looking hallway.

Encouraged forward by the driver and uncertain of what to expect, Ethan steeled his nerves and took a few cautious steps forward. His eyes darted around, and he breathed heavily as he scanned his new surroundings. Suddenly, his gaze was drawn to something astonishing. Tottering over, what he saw took his breath away. Atop a cabinet lay a selection of pictures—pictures of him as he looked now. Gasping, he picked up one of the frames and scrutinized the image of himself wearing a sexy little dress in an unfamiliar location.

"Amazing what you can do with image editing these days," a woman's voice chimed in, startling Ethan and causing him to drop the picture frame.

As the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, Ethan's dramatically made-up eyes widened. Slowly turning, he discovered an opening to a living room area behind him, and in the centre of the room, with a smug look of satisfaction on her face, stood perhaps the last person in the world he wanted to see.

"Emiliana," Ethan uttered in shock, his words trembling before his mouth hung open.

(See image 25)

"Welcome home, Penny," Emiliana announced with a playful lilt in her voice. "How was your flight, Babe?"