The Mule 09

Throughout the following week, Ethan experienced an ongoing series of frustrations and humiliations. Each day, his physique grew leaner and shapelier due to the rigorous exercise regimen and low-calorie diet. He was now up to ten kilometres per day on the treadmill, a modest accomplishment for some gym enthusiasts. However, knowing that Ethan was jogging on an incline while wearing six-inch heels makes the achievement all the more impressive.

His skin was now exquisitely smooth and entirely hairless. However, as he had discovered a few days ago, this was not merely the result of the daily creams and moisturizers he was told to apply. He had undergone a series of full-body laser treatments, unbeknown to him, the first few of which had occurred while he was unconscious following his surgery. However, during the most recent session, he had been fully lucid. For what felt like hours, he had endured the agony of tiny, continuous pricks moving slowly over his body, with the acrid scent of singed hair filling his nostrils.

With plenty of time to practice, the imprisoned man had also grown reasonably proficient at using his hands these days, despite the long, talon-like nails sprouting out from the end of each finger. He could even apply makeup to Karla's high standards, a feat that had taken him quite some time to master. But with his progress tied to the amount of food he was given, it had served as a powerful motivator. Over time, he had honed his skills, learning to line his eyes and lips with precision, and blend his eyeshadow like a seasoned pro.

On a typical morning at the complex, Having just completed another arduous gym session, Ethan settled into a pink armchair in the corner of his room after showering, dressing, and applying his makeup. His long, lean legs were crossed in a feminine fashion, and his hands were neatly placed in his lap, just as he had been taught. He waited patiently for Karla to arrive, looking down at his outfit and shaking his head from side to side as he felt his stiff braids brush against the back of his neck.

Each day, Ethan's outfits were entirely dependent on what was left for him while he worked out at the gym. They were typically tight and revealing, but today's choice was particularly egregious. His pink and white top was cropped at the waist, with a cutout design above his breasts that emphasized his toned abs and cleavage. Worst of all, the words "drama queen" were emblazoned across his chest, making him cringe with embarrassment.

Moulded around his gigantic backside was a pair of Spandex, pink shorts, which, despite being uncomfortably tight, were still preferable to a skirt. An indignity that Karla had thankfully not yet thrust upon him.

To complete the outfit, he had fastened his tired feet into a ridiculously tall pair of strappy sandals. The blocky heel must have been seven inches tall, but with a two-inch platform at the front, they were at least more manageable than they appeared, particularly given all the training he had undergone.

(See image 18)

As Ethan heard the familiar jangle of keys, he looked up to see the door swing open and Karla enter his room.

Finding Ethan sitting there like a little pink doll, a grin spread across her painted lips. "You look perfect as always," she said, complimenting Ethan on his put-together appearance.

"Thanks," Ethan replied glumly, rolling his eyes.

"Oh! Don't look so miserable, Chica," Karla shot back as she strode across the room. "I've got some exciting news for you."

The announcement piqued Ethan's interest. A part of him didn't want to hear it, as news always meant change, which would only make his life more difficult. But then again, he knew that change was necessary if he ever wanted to get out of his current predicament.

Seeing that she had Ethan's full attention, Karla stopped in front of the feminized man, looming over him. "Today will be our last day together," she announced, feigning sadness.

"You mean... I'm free?" Ethan stammered, sitting up straighter in his chair. "What about Ava?"

"Well, not quite," Karla quickly replied with a chuckle. "Tomorrow, you have a special appointment before a very important date. What happens next is up to you and how you behave. But you won't be coming back here; my job is done."

Ethan’s eyes widened in disbelief. "A date!" he exclaimed, a sense of horror creeping up on him. "With Hector?" Karla, with a smile confirming Ethan’s suspicions, simply nodded in affirmation. "You have been an absolute pleasure to train, Ethan. Your transformation has been one of my greatest ever pieces of work," she declared, beaming with pride.

"Take the rest of the day for yourself, do whatever it is that relaxes you. Tonight, we will have one final dinner to celebrate all that we have accomplished here together." Karla's words of praise left Ethan feeling somewhat uneasy. He gulped, at a loss for words, as he watched her turn and exit the room.

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Trembling with apprehension, Ethan sat in what appeared to be a hotel suite while observing a young woman unpacking a suitcase filled with supplies. The entire experience was unsettling, exacerbated by the woman's initial reluctance to engage in conversation as she shushed him several times when he attempted to ask questions.

Surveying his surroundings, Ethan noticed that the room was tastefully decorated in a minimalist style. It consisted of three areas: a bedroom, a bathroom, and a spacious living room where he and the enigmatic woman were situated. The woman who stood in the centre of the room was dressed in a smock-like uniform, her raven tresses pinned up in a neat bun atop her head. On the central table, she meticulously arranged various boxes and bags in a specific order while ticking each one off on a list as she went about her work.

Ethan squirmed in his seat, feeling his anticipation mount along with the butterflies in his stomach. For an entire month, he had yearned to escape from the complex where he had been held. However, now that he had been blindfolded and driven to a city many hours away only to be deposited in an unknown location, all he could think about was how much he longed for the comfort of his familiar routine.

"Okay, we're all set," the woman announced, looking over at Ethan, having finally finished setting up her equipment.

"Ready for what?" he responded, his voice betraying his nervousness.

"Ready to make you a new person," the woman replied, moving over to examine Ethan's braids.

Flinching as her outstretched hand touched his head, Ethan gave the woman an unimpressed glare. "Please calm down, miss," the woman retorted, giving Ethan a stern look in return. "We're going to remove these braids, but you need to sit still. I don't want to chat, and I don't want any resistance from you. Do you understand?"

"And what if I refuse to cooperate?" Ethan retorted, his tone laced with anger.

"Then I'll send a message,” the woman replied in a cold, detached voice. “They made it very clear that someone you care about will get hurt!"

"Ava!" Ethan exclaimed. "You monster! Where is she?"

"I don’t know," the woman replied with a shrug. "I'm just here to do a job."

"Please, they're going to hurt her. You have to help me," Ethan pleaded.

"I'm sorry," the woman responded, with a hint of sympathy in her smile. "I'm being paid a lot of money for this, and I have people I care about too. The people who hired me are not people you mess with. Now, please just make this easy. Be quiet and let me work."

Ethan took a deep breath and nodded slowly. "Okay," he replied, resigned to his situation. The woman acknowledged his compliance with a curt nod and pulled out her phone, deftly pressing a few buttons. Soon, loud reggaeton beats filled the room, drowning out any potential conversation.

With the music playing, the woman worked efficiently to remove the braids from Ethan's hair. He sat there looking miserable, occasionally wincing in pain as she tugged at his scalp. But the worst was yet to come! After finally removing the last braid, the woman brushed through Ethan’s hair before opening a case to reveal a terrifying sight. Watching in stunned silence, Ethan’s eyes bulged as the woman removed little plastic packets one after another before laying them out on the table - each one containing what appeared to be a needle!

The woman silenced any potential protest from Ethan with a stern look. He hesitated for a moment, mentally weighing his options, before finally looking down at his heaving bosom. Taking a deep breath, he resigned himself to the situation, knowing that his body had already been mutilated beyond repair, and resistance would only cause Ava more physical harm.

As Ethan sat with his back pressed tightly against his chair, he could only watch in a state of shock and confusion as the woman approached his face with a pencil and began drawing dots across his face and lips. He glared at her, feeling violated and powerless, trying to process what was happening to him, unsure how to react.

As the woman approached his bottom lip with the first needle, Ethan closed his eyes only to quickly open them again as he felt a sharp, piercing pain followed by a strange sensation of pressure. He cried out in anguish as the needle slid in, but the woman shushed him sternly, warning him to stay still and not move. As she continued, he shuddered as he felt his bottom lip being filled up and stretched out, the sensation so intense that tears began to form in the corners of his eyes.

Balling up his hands, Ethan's long nails dug into his palms as he watched on helplessly as the expressionless woman selected a new needle before pressing down the plunger once again, sending another syringe full of filler into his bottom lip. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever experienced, and he could hardly bear it. However, the woman was relentless, meticulously completing the job on his lips before moving on to his cheeks, forehead, and even his nose!

Each injection caused a sharp, electric-shock-like pain and a strange pressure-like sensation as the Botox was deposited beneath his skin. Like a prisoner trapped in his own body, he allowed the woman to work her magic, transforming his face with each passing moment. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she stepped back, surveying her work with a critical eye. Ethan couldn’t see the changes, but he feared the worst – that his bloated feeling face was now unrecognizable!

(See image 19)