The Mule 08

"Close your eyes," Karla announced as she extended a small bottle clasped in the palm of her hand. "This is setting spray. Trust me, you don’t want to get this in your pretty eyes!"

"What?" Ethan exclaimed. Fortunately closing his darkly lined eyes just in time as a mist enveloped his heavily made-up face.

"Excellent, we're all set," Karla exclaimed with pride, observing in amusement as Ethan coughed a few times, having inadvertently ingested some of the spray. "That wasn't too bad, was it?"

After catching his breath, Ethan peered down at his reflection in the small, round mirror, exhaling heavily as he contorted his makeup-laden face in disgust. The realization that he had voluntarily subjected himself to the indignity of a makeover filled him with anger. Ever since he'd woken up in the recovery room to find his once-masculine physique drastically altered, he had attempted to remain optimistic, hoping to escape. Even during the rigorous training sessions, during which his feminized body was further sculpted, he had observed and taken note of any and all details he deemed important. However, gazing now upon his current image, complete with brightly painted lips, vividly coloured eyes, and fluttering lashes, Ethan's resolve began to falter. He resembled a woman, and an ominous thought struck him - Karla may not have finished with him yet!

Ethan raised his head slowly, gazing at Karla, whose expertly applied makeup mirrored his own, only more flawlessly executed. "Karla," he inquired, his voice trembling. "Am I ever getting out of here?"

(See image 16)

Karla paused, appearing to contemplate his question as she narrowed her eyes. After a moment of silence, she curled her lips into a sinister smirk. "If you continue to do what you're doing," she declared in a frigid tone. "Then yes, you’ll be leaving soon. Our time together is almost over."

Ethan's alluring eyes widened, uncertain how to interpret Karla's statement. "But I'll be leaving like this?" he stammered, gesturing to his feminized physique with his long-nailed hand. "Looking like a... a..."

"A woman," Karla interjected, completing Ethan's unspoken question. "Yes, that is the goal we have been striving towards."

"But what happens after I leave? What then?" Ethan asked, his voice growing shrill as he wiped his sweaty palms on his tiny shorts, feeling his throat constrict with dryness.

Karla smirked in response. "Well, that’s up to my employer," she replied cryptically. "He didn’t say, and to be honest, It’s none of my business."

Ethan's agitation grew as he shook his head, muttering Hector's name. "Why is he doing this to me? I know I messed up, but this is insane!"

"Ok," Karla declared in a commanding tone, her voice echoing through the room. "That's enough questions. Now, since you’re all made up and looking lovely, it's time you learned how to interact with others. Return to your room and get dressed. Afterwards, you're free to wander the premises as you see fit. If a door is open, you may enter."

"You're letting me go?" Ethan replied, sounding bewildered. "But why?"

"No, you're still a prisoner here, albeit with more liberties. When you leave here, you must be comfortable with your appearance. That means you'll have to get used to people staring at you, even lusting for you," she added, causing a shiver to run down Ethan's spine. "The guards have been instructed to interact with you. So, if you really want to get out of here as you say, chat and be friendly!”

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Ethan strolled through the lush gardens of the complex, his cork sandals securely strapped to his ankles. His foot placement had become so natural that he didn't even have to think about it these days. Walking on towering platforms had once seemed like a daunting task, but now, with his head held high and his large backside swaying, he strutted with ease.

The mid-afternoon sun hung high in the sky as Ethan surveyed the diverse range of tropical flora on display in the well-tended gardens. The cacophony of exotic birds chirping added to the peaceful ambience. For the past few days, he had been exploring every nook and cranny of the house and grounds, hoping against hope that Ava was also being held captive there. In his mind, finding her might be their ticket to freedom. However, the doors that were open to him were familiar ones, and the outside windows were tinted to prevent prying eyes, leaving him feeling just as lost as ever.

As Ethan turned the corner, he caught sight of Miguel, one of the more talkative guards patrolling the property. The tall, stocky man was dressed in full camouflage uniform and held an assault rifle by his side, creating an intimidating presence. Even if Ethan wasn't wearing a crop top and a pair of micro mini shorts, with his hair in braids and his face covered in cosmetics, Miguel's presence would still have been imposing. His presence was a stark reminder of just how much Ethan had changed. While he may not have been as muscular or fit as Miguel before all this, he was still a far cry from the jiggly mass of tits and ass he had been transformed into - a walking embodiment of sex appeal.

(See image 17)

As Ethan approached Miguel, he did his best to keep his composure and appear friendly - not easy, given the circumstances. Miguel looked at him curiously for a moment, then gave him a broad smile. "Hey there, Chica," Miguel said, his Spanish accent thick. "How you doing?"

"I'm doing okay," Ethan replied, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "Just enjoying the gardens."

"Yeah, they're pretty nice, aren't they?" Miguel said, nodding towards the trees and bushes. "I like the sound of the birds. So peaceful."

Ethan nodded, trying to look relaxed as Miguel looked him up and down like a ravenous dog eying a juicy steak.

"You know, you look really pretty today," Miguel said, his eyes staring at Ethan's large chest. "That top is really working for you."

Ethan tried to smile, even though he felt his stomach churning with revulsion. The thought of Miguel or any of the other guards looking at him that way made him feel sick. "Thanks," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Miguel leaned in a little closer, his breath hot on Ethan's face. "You know, I was thinking," he said, his eyes glittering. "Maybe we could have a little fun together sometime. You and me, alone in one of the empty rooms..."

Ethan's heart raced as Miguel's proposal sank in. He placed a long-nailed finger to his lips, pretending to consider the offer for a moment. "Hmm...perhaps," he said, gulping at the sight of the lustful guard licking his lips. "But are you sure we won't get caught? I mean, all those rooms can't be empty, can they? There must be other prisoners here. I can't be the only one, right?" 

"Don't worry, Chica. You're the only guest here right now. No one will catch us. I know where to go," the guard assured, reaching over to run his hand along the side of Ethan's head. 

Ethan couldn't help but feel a shiver of revulsion as the man's large sausage fingers traced along one of his tightly bound braids. But somehow maintaining his composure, he coyly pulled away, his soft voice adopting a flirtatious tone. "Let me think about it, okay?" he said, giving the man a playful wink. "See you around, Miguel."

As he strutted away, Ethan's heart pounded, feeling the man's eyes drilling into his back. He felt disgusted by the way he had just acted, but it had been a means to an end. And he now knew something he didn't earlier: Ava, unfortunately, wasn't here!